An Evening With Artesa: An Old Brand With a New Style

Last week -- before I came down with a horrific cold that has kept me drugged on Mucinex and away from wine for the last 6 days -- I was invited to a dinner with some fellow Atlanta bloggers, courtesy of Artesa Winery (Full Disclosure: they foot the bill for dinner and the wines. As always, I don't sway my opinions based on that, but you need to know!). Artesa has recently made some significant changes to its winemaking lineup and wanted to re-introduce the blogging world to their wines.

Before I review the wines, I've got to say that I was very impressed by this outreach to bloggers. Artesa and many other wineries seem to be grasping that what bloggers have to say is important to readers, and may actually be (I hope!) more helpful than opinions of wine snobs and jaded reviewers who don't explain terms in an accessible way. I give serious props to Artesa for acknowledging that the wine mags aren't the only source for wine info!

I'd like to also take this opportunity to give a nod to my fellow Atlanta bloggers with whom I've interacted online, but never actually met in person until this dinner. They all have great blogs and I encourage you to check them out as well. So here's a shout out to Atlanta Wine Guy (Kevin), Suburban Wino (Joe), and Wine Tonite (Ed). They are each terrific and unique.

So, with that said, let's get to it.

The dinner was hosted at Bone's, a highly rated steakhouse in the Buckhead area of Atlanta. It was co-hosted by Tim Shippey, the Brand Director for Artesa and all-around great guy, and Mark Beringer, the new winemaker for the brand. I sat with Tim, but was able to ask Mark a bunch of question as well, including the one that you may have on your mind -- "Are you part of the Beringer family? Like, THE Beringer family?" Yup, and he was the winemaker for my favorite California Merlot, Duckhorn, for 15 years until he made this move to Artesa.

I asked him the secret to making such great juice and he told me that he likes to make complex wines by blending simpler lots together. He looks at winemaking like a spice rack, mixing in complementary components to achieve a signature style. Whatever he's doing, it worked at Duckhorn and I'm confident that his work at Artesa will be equally outstanding. These wines we tried didn't have his influence and they were still great. I can't imagine how much better they are going to get once he gets his hands on this fruit!

We tried the wines in pairs, and there were many of them so I will write about the highlights and mention the others briefly.

The Chardonnay
The first course was served with the 2008 Carneros Chardonnay (about $16 retail) and it's slightly higher rent cousin, the 2007 Carneros Reserve Chardonnay (about $26 retail). Although I'm not generally a Cali Chard fan, these wines had great acidity and were not too fruity, buttery, or oaky. Stands to reason. The cool, southerly Carneros region that straddles the Napa and Sonoma Valleys benefits from the fog and cool air updrafts from the San Pablo Bay and Pacific Ocean, so they are prime for Chardonnay and Pinot Noir, which grow best in cooler areas (like Burgundy in France).

The 2008 Carneros Chardonnay was a good wine, but the 2007 Carneros Reserve Chardonnay was far better for me. Given that this is the Reserve, and winemakers tend to throw everything but the kitchen sink at a higher tier wine, I was loving the restraint and balance. The wine had a really creamy, lemon curd flavor to it and the finish was like biting into a vanilla apple cake -- full, round, and oh-so-satisfying. Although I usually prefer a more austere style of wine, this was damn good. I'd say it is well worth the extra $10 to try the Reserve (if you can find it. Only 2,500 cases were produced).

The Pinot Noir
If you follow me, you know I am a real critic of California Pinot Noir, especially because I know from working in the industry that much of it is only 3/4 Pinot and the rest Syrah or Petit Syrah or something else that has nothing to do with Pinot Noir. I can't say this for Artesa -- these 100% Pinots were great.

For $20, the 2007 Carneros Pinot Noir ($20) had good acidity and lots of cherry fruit, although it didn't hold a candle to the delicious 2007 Carneros Reserve Pinot Noir. At $34, this wine has luscious cherry, raspberry, and cranberry fruit, a layer of nutmeg and brown spices, and a nice touch of acid to keep it bright and lively. The perfect combo of juicy and acidic. A great wine and one to try. Probably my favorite of the bunch.

The Cabernet Sauvignon
We initially tasted two -- one from Napa and one from the Alexander Valley in Northern Sonoma. The Alexander Valley Cab was the winner. It was like a bowl of black fruit with vanilla, mocha, chocolate deliciousness sprinkled on top. This is a perfect wine for a cold winter night. At $40, it's not a steal but I think it's a fair price for the wine.

As we were about to leave, Tim pulled out two single vineyard wines from their Ridgeline brand (each about $75). The 2005 Standing Bear Vineyard is 100% Cab and was a big, meaty, juicy fruit bomb with strong vanilla notes. It was big, brawny, and bold. I preferred the 2005 Lone Pine Vineyard, which was 81% Cab and 19% Cabernet Franc and a more complex wine for sure. The Cab Franc added an earthy component to the wines that tamed the big fruit. The Lone Pine had all the juiciness of the Standing Bear, but with layers of spicy, herbal flavors that gave the wine a little more finesse.

All in all, great showing on these wines. I've had Artesa before, but these were better than what I had remembered so I feel like it was a worthwhile venture for me to take a second look at them.

I thank Artesa for including us (me and, by proxy, you guys) in the dinner and I'm really looking forward to seeing what Mark Beringer does with these wines in future years! Readmore »»

There Are Too Many Wine Brands In the World

I want to start off by saying that I am not a communist. I went to business school (Go Tarheels!) and I got some serious lessons in capitalism. I bought in hook line and sinker. But lately I've been thinking a lot about wine and I think I may be turning a bit red in my views. Why? I've come to the conclusion that there is just too much choice in the wine category and that maybe it should be voluntarily restricted by wineries (monkeying with market dynamics? gasp!).

I mean, I'm woman enough to say that even with knowing a thing or two about wine, I still enter wine stores and sometimes feel overwhelmed by the selection. I can't imagine how intimidating it is for someone just getting into the stuff! And it's only getting worse. Over the last decade the number of wines has proliferated and the choices of what to buy have become more and more difficult.

I'm a marketer by training so in my spare time I think about products, consumers, categories and dorky issues like that. In my contemplations, I've come to the conclusion that wine is the only category of stuff we buy (besides apparel) that has so many brand choices. I guess it's ok that I'll never be able to experience it all, but my question is: what is the true advantage of too much choice? I would argue that it only leads to more confusion and intimidation about wine. I'll take it a step further: in my opinion, the wine producers thoughtlessly churn out brands and in doing so, make wine too complicated for the rest of us.

I understand why they do this, as wrong as it is. I worked for a large winery in California for a number of years, so I've got some inside dirt.

The first thing -- in part, it's driven by us, the consumers. We like wine, we buy wine, so wineries create more brands of wine hoping we will buy them -- supply and demand. The wineries look at what we are buying from a data standpoint (yes, they see what scans at the grocery stores...a little Big Brothery, no?) and they try to make more brands similar to those we already like. I think of it like a Moroccan market, where each person is peddling their meat skewer. The more meat skewers we all buy, the more vendors there are the next day peddling their special brand of meat. The problem is, if there are 75 meat vendors, there are probably only 20 or 30 that have appreciable differences in roast, spice, and cooking technique between them. So it is with wine, in my opinion.

Second, from a business perspective, wineries also have to make a buck. So larger wineries create multiple brands as "outlets" for extra wine hoping we'll buy it. That way they can make money from both their good and less good grapes. The end result is a flood of wine that we're uncertain about, but that we buy because it's on display or because it looks like something we know or because some dude gave it a good score.

So what is the solution to this over-abundance in wine? I think in an ideal world, we would have fewer wine brands with better quality in each and real differences between them. Wineries would focus on what they did best, and make differentiated products that normal people would buy because the wines are unique. Instead of hundreds of California Chardonnays, maybe we would have a choice among a more manageable number that we could truly spend time with and evaluate. In this ideal world, as consumers, we could really get to know grapes and wines and regions, and learn what we prefer. There would still be nuance and style, but the dreck may be eliminated and the real differences in styles could shine. Focus, rather than mass numbers of brands, would improve quality, reduce our confusion in the store, and make wine a much more accessible product.

Sadly, I know that my ideal won't happen because the industry is not structured this way, but it's food for thought.

Would love to hear your thoughts. Please comment and let's discuss it!
Readmore »»

My Week of Shiraz...Wine #1: Hewitson Ned & Henry's 2007, Just Ok

Australia is clearly one of the great winegrowing regions and the Aussie wine companies have done a hell of a job marketing themselves as the Shiraz capital of the planet. If we were playing wine dork word association and I said Australia, there's a good chance you would say Shiraz immediately... Now that's great marketing. And it's also often great wine.

I received a shipment of wine from a PR company that was all Syrah/Shiraz from Australia and South Africa and I'll be reviewing them over the next few days and share with you my opinions (as I've said before, I don't alter my take on the wine just because it was sent gratis!). I love Syrah/Shiraz, so this will be a completely hedonistic experience for me, and I'm looking forward to sharing it with you!

Before we get started on the review of the Hewitson Ned & Henry's 2007 Shiraz from Australia, I want to touch briefly on the whole Syrah/Shiraz issue. If you didn't already know this, they are the same exact grape. Yes, I know they taste different but that's only because, generally speaking, the names are used to connote different winemaking styles and different regional origins. Like twins separated at birth, the wines are similar but also really different from one another. If you still don't believe me, think about a Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand versus one from California -- very different wines, but they have the same name. We actually luck out with the Shiraz/Syrah thing because if you prefer one style over the other, you can pay attention to the name and get what you are looking for rather than risking buying something you don't like.

So I'm blabbing on about the name but I still haven't defined the difference from a taste perspective. Here goes:

• I find Syrah, which is usually from France or the US, to be more subtle, with an earthy, barnyard (sounds gross, tastes good), and dried herb smell and flavor. It's pretty powerful stuff -- very tannic (mouth-drying) and complex (you can use lots of words to describe it and still have more to say!).
  
• Shiraz, on the other hand, tends to be from Australia or South Africa and is usually very fruity, soft, and goes down the hatch easily. Not too complicated, it's a good weeknight wine and one that drinkers who are new to the varietal really love. The expensive ones are so fruity that they are often hard to pair with food, but are knockouts on their own.
  

Because someone recently asked me this question, I'll also bring up Petite Sirah. This is a completely different grape, also called Durif. You'll find Petit Sirah to be exclusively from California. It's kind of bitter, plummy, and less complex than Syrah/Shiraz, which is layered and rich in character. (I know I just dissed Petit Sirah, but I don't really dig it in comparison to Syrah. Sorry, gotta be honest).

Ok, so now with all that information, let's get to the wine at hand:


The Wine: Hewitson, Ned & Henry's Shiraz
Where It's From: Barossa Valley, Australia
The Grapes: It's mostly Shiraz, but the wine notes say there's some Mourvedre in it too.
Vintage: 2007
Price: $21.99


Color: What a color! This is just what I expect in Australian Shiraz: Dark ruby with purple undertones. All that sun down under develops lots of pigment and ripeness in grapes, so the wine is almost opaque and really viscous. What does that mean? Color like that usually points to the fact that its going to be a rich one.

Smell: All fruit and flowers, all the time. Again, sort of typical of an Australian Shiraz, this wine smelled like a bowl of purple fruit. Blackberry, black plum, boysenberry -- it was a juicy sort of smell. MC Ice and I both noticed a sort of perfumed, floral note like dried rose petal. Also, and I'm not sure why this is, but there was a chlorine-like note to the wine, kind of like a pool, which was a little unsettling (although we still drank it heartily, of course).

I was surprised at the absence of other stuff I usually like in Shiraz -- black pepper, leathery scents were not in this nose of this wine at all. I stopped being surprised when I looked at the vintage notes: 2007 was ROUGH for Barossa Valley and it explained why this wine was less interesting than I usually find Barossa Shiraz. Drought, frost, and heavy rain really affected the Shiraz and it's obvious in this wine that the vintage suffered from being small and lame (fewer grapes = fewer blending possibilities so you kind of get what you get -- a one note wine).

Taste: My first impression was that the wine was really chocolaty. All the luscious fruit I smelled was hanging around in the scenery, but not on center stage. Happily the stuff missing on the nose appeared on the palate -- light black pepper, leather, and even something like tobacco showed up in the wine. Strangely yet pleasantly, I also tasted some musky cantaloupe-like thing.

I think more than flavor though, texture dominated the wine. It was super soft and delicate. There were good tannins, but the wine lacked some acid so I think it was on the verge of flabby but not quite there (this explains to me why the winemaker added the Mourvedre -- this powerful, flavorful, dark, tannic grape, added the structure to the Syrah, which seems to have needed it!).

Food: This is a "brown food" wine, if you know what I mean. Meats, mushrooms, hearty stews -- that's what this needs. If you do buy it, be careful that the flavors of the food are rich, yet delicate. The wine could easily be overpowered by something with too much punch. I did eat it with sauteed mushrooms and it was fine, but had I put in more garlic or made my food more complex the wine would have really fallen flat.

Drink or Down the Sink?: I can't say down the sink, but I wouldn't buy this wine for this price. I think it's got promise but this vintage just misses the mark for me. Maybe a different year would produce a better result, but I think for the price you could do better. I'm open to trying future vintages of this wine and when I do, I'll let you know what I think!

I'm hoping the other bottles of Shiraz I got in this shipment are slightly more pleasing, to say the least. Tune in again to see if my Shiraz-fest meets my expectations! Readmore »»

The Locavore Movement and Wine (aka Wine & Environmental Stuff)

Recently, on a chat board on LinkedIn, I became involved in an impassioned discussion surrounding the "locavore" movement. Although I generally review wines on the blog, I thought it may be interesting to discuss this hot topic, which is sweeping the food and wine world at the moment and is steeped in controversy. In addition, I have recently received a lot questions on the topic because I am co-organizing a wine event focused on organic and biodynamic wine in Chapel Hill, North Carolina (details to come!). Hopefully this is of interest and is not just pontification (if you think it is, don't worry, I'll post a review by the end of the week. My cold is gone so I can drink away!).

So the first question that you may have, is what the hell is a "locavore?" It sounds like someone who exclusively eats locusts or possibly feasts on crazy women, if you speak Spanish. Good guesses, both, however according to the all-powerful and ever-accurate Wikipedia:

"A locavore is someone who eats food grown or produced locally or within a certain radius such as 50, 100, or 150 miles"

The movement is really kind of neat. Its basic tenet is that if you eat foods that are local, you can reduce environmental impact (less transport), eat healthier (smaller farms usually use fewer pesticides), and provide economic support to your local farmers. It's really a back-to-basics movement -- think "Little House On The Prairie" and Ma selling eggs to the Olsons at the General Store.

In my opinion, eating local food is a great idea for the reasons mentioned above. But taken to the extreme, it's a tough row to hoe. Should I never eat a kiwi? An orange? Must I give up pineapple? And, more importantly, what about wine? Should I only drink wines from Georgia because that's the only option less than 100 miles away for me? Die-hard locavores would probably say yes to all of that.

I resoundingly say, not so much.

For me, the sustainability/environmental movement is about doing a little better than what we all did before -- incorporating changes into our daily lives that collectively make a huge impact. Part of that is driving less, shutting off the water when we brush our teeth, and choosing products whose producers are mitigating their impact on the earth.

The last point is particularly relevant to wine. I personally don't think we need to give up wines from other parts of the world and only drink from our back yard. Maybe instead of buying only local wines, we can try to support companies who are making their wineries greener, and figuring out alternative transportation methods that decrease their carbon footprint and negative impact on the environment. On the East Coast, we may want to drink more European wines, as the transport to get them here has a smaller footprint. On the West Coast perhaps they should consume local wines to do the same. Or we could all help support organic and biodynamic producers worldwide who are trying to preserve the earth in their winemaking, lessening their impact on the planet and doing a lot better than many non-sustainable wineries that destroy the earth, use more than their fair share of resources, and pollute the environment.

Ultimately, what concerns me about going extreme with the locavore movement is that taken literally, it does not recognize that we live in a wonderfully interdependent world and although it's important to constantly and relentlessly mitigate our impact on the planet and help support local businesses where possible, it's also essential that we don't become insular.

The cost of only "drinking local" is that we become limited in our ability to appreciate the history, tradition, and culture of wine regions around the world. Part of the enjoyment of wine, in my estimation, is the cross-cultural learning that comes with tasting things from diverse areas. I personally have learned so much about the traditions, geography, food, and history of other cultures through wine and although I very much support local farming, I think that taking an extreme position on the localvore movement where wine is concerned cuts us off from appreciation of other cultures, which is essential in an interconnected world. Further, if we only care about our own backyard, we may be devastating someone else's local economy by cutting off our support of their wine trade, which can have global financial implications on us all.


So there you have it. Although I will try to always do a little better -- compost, recycle more, buy products from ethical producers, for me, cutting off wines from other regions of the world is not worth the price. Readmore »»