As I write this, it’s raining and harvest isn’t quite half done. Short crop, rain damage and rot is starting and it certainly looks bleak. But I read in the paper this morning that despite all of the problems, we’ll still make superior wines this vintage. Give me a break! If we can make superior wine from these conditions, then why sweat anything? Be like the French. Every year is a vintage year and is always better than the year before. Most growers don’t get paid on the basis of quality but strictly tonnage, with deductions for quality problems such as rot, material other than grapes (MOG) and so on. Therefore, the only grower problem is the light crop and the chance that he or she may not be able to harvest everything. With the rush to get fruit in, wineries will ferment with warmer temperatures to speed up tank rotation despite all the rhetoric about cool fermentations and such that’s needed to make quality wine. Most of the winemaker magic books and chemical supplies will be put to good use this year, unless you’re organic. Then I guess prayer is as good as anything.
Enough of that. Let’s jump into the terroir debate that’s resurfacing. I’ve never been a believer in terroir as being the wonderful quality producer that wineries would have you believe. First, a definition (of which there are many): A “terroir” is a group of vineyards (or even vines) from the same region, belonging to a specific appellation and sharing the same soil type, weather conditions, grapes and winemaking savior-faire, which contributes to give a specific personality to the wine.
One of the reasons for all of the ridiculous appellations we have in the North Bay is each one is supposed to have some terroir characteristics—making wines of special character. OK, we have the fixed items listed: soil, climate and topography; variety should probably also be included. Now let’s look at the variables. In the vineyard, we have variety/rootstock interactions, row direction, trellis type, irrigation, fertilization, pest management, cover crops, discing versus non-till, harvest methods (hand versus machine; day versus night) to mention a few of the factors. Once at the winery, we have an entirely different set of variables—some admitted and some not—including yeast, fermentation temperature, SO2 and other additives, methods of cooling (jackets, heat exchangers, pump over), barrel versus tank fermentation, type of oak (where it’s from; new versus used), method of oak (barrels, slats, chips, cubes, extracts), time of masceration and the list goes on. Now you’re going to tell me the terroir is going to come through in the wine? If so, I have some oceanfront property in Arizona for you (thank you, George Strait).
There’s a wine judging each year that’s called the “Grand Harvest Awards,” where the basic theme is to identify terroir rather than judge varieties on their own. Wines are given to the judges based on their appellation with a mix of varieties in a class. The judges are asked to judge the wines themselves first and then attempt to elicit some common characteristics of all of the wines together. Panel coordinators moderate a discussion to attempt to come up with some conclusions for each group. I may honestly report to you that, in the competition’s 21 years, no panel of any judges has ever identified a given terroir (appellation). Once a flight of Napa Cabernets were thought (guessed) to be from Texas. (Footnote: Napa Cabernet is supposed to be great and Texas wines less than stellar, if you didn’t know.) Yes, the Native American varieties (Concord, Catawba and such) were identified as being from the East Coast, thank God.
From a personal standpoint, if you’re tasting wines, there are so many external factors like where you are (quiet tasting room, home, noisy tasting room, with a crowd or alone), the physical setting and location, your emotional temperament and even the time of day can be important. Ever wonder why the wine in the tasting room was so good you bought some and it wasn’t nearly as good at home?
In New Zealand, an experiment was conducted under controlled conditions. In a nutshell, 12 different wineries in six different regions of New Zealand were each given four tons of the same fruit (same vineyard) and each made 250 cases of wine. The results were very interesting. Tasting notes from the panel said it was clear that the wines reflected a wide array of styles, ranging from taut, mineral-driven examples to richly textured, sweet bottlings. The finished wines showed alcohol levels ranging from 9 to 12.8 percent, and residual sweetness varied between bone-dry to medium-plus sweet. The most striking thing was how closely each of the wines resembled the style from the region where they were made—not grown. (From a posting by Chuck Howard, September 28, 2011.)
OK—so terroir is probably a bunch of baloney, but don’t tell the French. They’re having enough of their bubbles burst lately and, besides, they lie anyway. It’s also where we’ve learned that every year is better than last year, come hell or high water—literally.
While reading a few other blogs, I found one from W. Blake Gray that discusses a movie preview of “Wines From Here,” which is about terroir, and he says, “How important is terroir even if the experts who’ve had these same wines can’t recognize them? Terroir isn’t the most important factor in wine quality; the producer is!” I couldn’t have said it better myself.
OK, for homework, here’s a list of wine descriptors that I found interesting, not because they’re good, but because they’re different. See what you can do with them: austere/tight; brawny/muscular; broad/fleshy; brooding; chewy; feminine/pretty; mineral; precise/linear/focused; elegant/polished; and racy/bracy/nervy. I wonder if we all conjure up the same images with each of these words. I still say there are only three kinds of wines: good, bad and free. Somebody added cheap to that, and who can argue with Trader Joe’s?
I think I need to add to your homework while you’re working on the bottle-a-day assignment. I want you to start trying some of the alternative packaged wines—Tetra Paks, Chateau la Boxes, pouches and so on. Have fun and let’s pray harvest is done by the time you read this…and that a lot of growers still own their ranches. Amen.
