Alsace in Kiwiland

I recently tasted through an assortment of rich, complex, expressive, mineral-laden, mouthwatering wines which, had I tasted them blind I would have guessed were from Alsace. I would have been wrong. They were from New Zealand, and may have been the first wines from that country I have ever encountered which honestly showed a sense of place.

Of course, other New Zealand wines clearly have the markings of that country, but I contend that has more to do with the winemaker than it does the place. Those markings, after all, are overwhelmingly related to opulence of fruit aromas and flavors. They rarely demonstrate the distinctive character of a specific site. The wines I tasted this day, however, from a small winery called Pyramid Valley, did just that... and more.

Pyramid Valley is one of those wineries that just seems to be out of step with their neighbors. Husband and wife team, Mike and Claudia Weersing (he's from California and she is originally from Germany) searched the world-over for the right spot to settle down and work the soil. Mike spent time working in Europe, the US, and Australia with some of the top biodynamists - and has brought much of their philosophies along as he and Claudia started up shop in North Canterbury, NZ.

I had a conversation with a colleague the other day in which she said that she would sell, but would never drink California wine. With so much great wine from elsewhere, she explained, why bother with anything from California? Well the example of Pyramid Valley goes a long way for me in explaining why I think she is wrong to think the way she does. Mike and Claudia's wines are sophisticated, intellectually intriguing, and downright delicious - not characteristics I would have expected to find all together in most New Zealand wines.

I've said it before, and I will say it again - look beyond label, variety, and place of origin, and, instead focus on style and characteristics which make you happy... I bet you will find amazing wines from some of the least expected places.

What Drives a Wine List?

Since moving to Portland, I've been struck by just how wine-savvy a city this is. There are few producers whose wines I crave that are not available here. And in a town with such a fantastic restaurant scene, I'm often able to find something curiously exciting on wine lists when dining out. There are, of course, those lists which don't dazzle me - and, perhaps, even, don't offer me ANY options for something appealing - at least there's usually some interesting beer to drink then.

Just like any other major metropolitan area, Portland has restaurants with wine "programs" and restaurants which simply sell wine as an obligatory (and profitable) part of the dining experience. The former group is marked by a list (long or short) of eclectic wines from a range of lesser-known regions, grapes, and producers. They often lean toward European and Euro-influenced wines, and have a staff who attempt to engage diners in a conversation about the wines they offer. The latter is often even more clearly marked by an extensive list of chardonnays, pinot noirs (a recent phenomenon), and cabernets to the detriment of other wines. Marquees (or at least very well advertised) names can typically be found throughout these lists. Some do this out of laziness, some out of ignorance, and some because they sincerely believe that's what their customers want and will buy.

Here in the Pacific Northwest, we have one additional component to wine lists which I rarely saw back in New York (even on Long Island) - there is a lot of local wine represented on and sold from wine lists. As one who knows me might expect, I have mixed feelings about this. On one hand, it supports a local industry which has proven in a very short time (since the 1960s) that great wines can be made here. On the other hand, local wines can sometimes have a disproportionate representation on lists where they don't have an abvious place. Now I'm a huge proponent of the "drink what you like - don't worry about finding the perfect pairing" approach to wine and food, but I've seen far some lists at Italian restaurants (for example) here featuring far too much local wine, and far too little Italian wine. In one instance, I read a list at a dive of a pasta place where they offered ten wines total - eight local wines from touted producers alongside a pinot grigio and a montepulciano d'abruzzo with neither a producer or a vintage listed. All I'm saying is that it would be nice to see a beter balance. Otherwise, I'll be drinking a lot more beer (and don't get me started on how hoppy the local beers are).

More than just grape juice

I recently tagged along with some colleagues on some winery visits in Oregon's Willamette Valley. Such visits are a great opportunity for those of us charge with representing producers in the marketplace to get to know the people, stories, and ideology behind the wines a bit. The visits offered a great deal of insight into what each producer was aiming to do - and how well they had done in accomplishing their goals.

We tasted wines from both 2007 (mostly yet-to-be-blended components from barrel) and bottled wines from 2006. The contrast between the vintages were clearly striking - with deep, concentrated, fruit powered (and somewhat tight) wines in '06 and racier, acid driven wines with more elegance in '07. For those producers who are trying to achieve a classical European style, '07 may well be a terrific year.


Along the way our group heard over and over that, while much of the farming behind the wines was pure and often organic - a good amount of the cellar work was enhanced by manipulation. Let me be clear - in contrast to the many, many, many producers who add synthetic color additives and perform alcohol and acid extracting voodoo behind closed doors (and never reveal these activities publicly) - these practices are incredibly tame. More than a couple of times the notion came up of chaptilizing wines (adding sugar to pump up finished alcohol levels) in the low ripening 2007 vintage, as did the idea of using inoculating yeasts in lieu of allowing the grapes to ferment naturally with their own, native yeasts. In the case of one producer, the yeast he uses is cultivated from a wine produced by an icon in Burgundy - and it adds both a flavor and texture to the wine that would not have otherwise been there. And then, of course, there are those barrels, which can easily change a wine's entire character... but that's another story.

In the end, the fact that these producers are both open about what they are doing, and performing these activities in minimal doses, is something I can appreciate. But the next time you open a bottle, think about what is in there aside from naturally fermented grape juice - you might be surprised.