On an unusally warm evening for Sonoma, we appropriately did a random tasting of less common whites. An eventful endeavour that saw some Chasselas Dore from Sonoma, Gruner Veltliner from Oregon and Txakolina.

Tastings such as this one can often provide interesting notes. One wine received marks of marajuana bud, hops, and ruby-red grapefruit juice. It wasn’t that bad but the munchie jokes flew instantly. Generally I thought the flight was quite good, though some of the wines seemed a bit overpriced. My clear favorite was the Moschofilero Boutari 2005 Boutari from Greece. This is a wonderful wine for warm summer days. The nose was pretty, smelling of beeswax, honeysuckle, citrus, and a touch of pine. The mouthfeel was wonderfully balanced, crisp, and delicious. Do not be prepared to be wowed by this wine, but expect to thoroughly enjoy it on a hammock on a summer day listening to the Cardinals blow another lead in late innings. I know I will.

My viticulture and enology contemplation has now begun to invade one of my other joys: history. While I love a good novel, particularly “classic” literature, most of my reading leisure is spent in the nonfiction world of history, more specifically the history of conflict. After all, current problems are often rooted deeply in the past. That said, I will read anything that is deftly and well scribed simply to admire the product of someone who excels at their craft. This is why I have now read almost every book written by Barbara Tuchman. A two-time Pulitzer Prize winning author, she is an old-school historian. A historian’s historian. But I digress.

My most recent Tuchman foray was Bible and Sword, her first project published in 1956. The book details how the Bible and Sword, or religion and politics, influenced the consciousness of the British government and citizens to produce the Balfour Declaration. This declaration made in 1917 at the close of World War I essentially committed the British to “establishing a British-sponsored national home for the modern survivors of the people of the Old Testament” (quoted from the succinctly written back cover).

But what does this have to do with wine? Nothing. But Tuchman says something in the closing paragraph of the epilogue that I believe is analogous to my most recent musings of how to blend science and intuition into decision making in the wine industry.

“Does Israel, then, exist today [1956] because of the British or in spite of the British?…The answer to the question must neither be one thing nor the other, but partly both - one of those unsatisfactory truths with which history so often defeats its interpreters.”

It is precisely because I often find myself providing “unsatisfactory truths” as answers to what seem to be straightforward questions that I find the above thought analogous. Does the unique quality of wine A exist today because of that cold soak, or in spite of the cold soak? The answer to the question must neither be one thing nor the other, but partly both (or perhaps neither) - one of those unsatisfactory truths with which initial condition of the juice so often defeats its winemakers. Does the tannin profile or quality of tannin in wine B exist today because of the change in my pump over regime or in spite of the change in my pump over regime? The answer to the question must neither be one thing nor the other, but partly both (or again, perhaps neither) - one of those unsatisfactory truths with which the initial condition of the juice so often defeats its winemakers (or should I say knowledge of winemakers). I believe the crux of the Tuchman’s (and my) point is that reducing something as complex as the recreation of the state of Israel, or what really contributes to the quality/amount of tannin (from climate, to clone, to viticulture practices, to berry physiology, to fermentation temp) to a simply stated question and - by implication - a simply stated answer is dubious. Yet isn’t this often the way we try to understand our craft?

Perhaps I could try it this way: Does the greatness of wine C exist today because of the winemaker or in spite of the winemaker? The answer to the question must neither be one thing nor another, but partly both - one of those unsatisfactory truths with which the creation of wine so often defeats its winemakers. This is neither to advocate complete abandonment in winemaking nor to suggest that there is zero role of the vigneron. It is to suggest that I believe it is disingenuous to give credit where credit is not due and I for one believe that too often we - as winemakers - give credit to practices that we believe work (cold soak, nutrients at 15 Brix, native fermentations, etc.) when indeed they may have a much smaller role than we think (i.e. the result is in spite of us). Consumers often ask me do you do practice x, y, or z; or what do you think of x, y, or z? And so often I couch my answers around what we do and do not know, ultimately providing what I am afraid are quite unsatisfactory truths. I don’t know, maybe I’m reaching here. Nonetheless it at minimum demonstrates that wine topics are indeed invading more of my thoughts than I ever thought it would.

After finally publishing my thoughts on how we gain and use knowledge in the wine industry, I seem to see examples of the tension between sources of knowledge popping up in multiple places. One recent example reared its head at the Appellation America website where an article regarding cork and air passage was published. The author is PhD Dr. Richard Peterson who does a bit of consulting and has his own label (follow the link for his full bio). It is clear to me that Dr. Peterson has a good grasp of oxygen passage through bottle closures and quite an understanding of wine science. What is not clear to me is whether he has a good grasp of how to take some of the true knowledge he has gained through science, integrate it with empirical observations, and explain all of that in a manner to those who he ultimately refers to in this piece as “idiots.” With all due respect, perhaps we can understand why he is no longer an educator.

Remember that in my previous post on epistemology I mentioned that people tend to communicate their beliefs about winemaking rather than true knowledge of winemaking. While the two are not always mutually exclusive, New Zealand wine chemist Dr. Alan Lemmer notes about closures: “much has been written in the popular press on various aspects, such as the ability of wine to age under screw caps, the variability of the performance of corks, and the possibility of reduced characters under the near anoxic screw cap. Much (most?) of what has been written has little origin in science and more reflects popular beliefs….Consequently, popular opinion has often passed as scientific fact.” I think Peterson would likely agree with this statement and my judgment is that it is that popular opinion passed as scientific fact which largely infuriates him.

However unleashing that fury on people who have had oxidized bottles or seen corked bottles with large ullage does nothing to endear people to his position. Peterson is right, “sound corks do not breathe.” However his lack of emphasis on the caveat “sound” led to a debate on the correctness of his article over at the Mark Squires Bulletin Board. These people are largely consumers and have a hard time reconciling what Peterson claims as categorical scientific fact with their own observations of large ullage in old bottles. In Principles and Practices of Winemaking, the UC Davis professorial team notes that a wine bottled with cork “may allow access on the order of 0.1 mL of O2/L/year. Thus it would take about 60 years to be equivalent of one full saturation…[therefore it is] essentially anaerobic.” Peterson’s own data is cited in this chapter, but the authors congenially note that eventually corks fail and “ullage develops and the wine at some point rapidly declines.” Conversely, some recent research has suggested limited oxygen ingress varying greatly based upon the type of closure. Now much of the AWRI studies have not measured oxygen per se, but relied on the development - or lack thereof - of reduced or oxidative aromas or followed SO2 decline and browning. These studies have found that the same wine closed with screw caps and corks generate differences over time that are presumed to be due to O2 exposure. Furthermore, Lopes et. al. utilized a different O2 measurement technique and demonstrated that much of the O2 ingress in corks and screwcaps occurs within the first twelve months. The rate seemed to be similar to that quoted above and leveled off in the second year (from what I could gather from a powerpoint…the graph was not well labeled). This begs the question: is the O2 in the cork? Who knows but I think there is sufficient variability within corks, and examples of different closures showing characters that suggest different amounts of O2 exposure, plus some O2 entry into wine post-bottling that it is not unreasonable for someone to think O2 is passing through the cork…even if it looks like the amount - if any - is negligible and even if this IS NOT THE ROUTE THE O2 takes.

Thus far it must sound as though I have only supported Peterson’s claim. True. But I don’t support his inflammatory nature because I don’t think he is integrating many of the true possibilities that a consumer might face. Yes, sound corks do not breathe. But it is also true that not all corks are sound, and from wine to wine cork quality can be quite variable. Referring to people as “idiots” who have more than once been exposed to wines that seemed to clearly be exposed to oxygen as evidenced by large ullage or oxidative characteristics is unproductive to winning those people not only to your current position, but also to positions one may take in the future. And the fact is that the examples with large ullage suggest the wine was exposed to oxygen and thus it is reasonable for someone without the breadth of understanding of Peterson to conclude that air passed through the closure. We are human. One might provide convincing proof for your case, but communicating it by classifying those who don’t agree with you as unintelligent will do little to convince. It is not conducive to upgrading the collective knowledge of the industry.

Further Reading:
Please Stop telling people that Corks BreatheDr. Richard Peterson, Appellation America
Principles and Practices of Winemaking, Aspen Publishers, Inc., 1998, pgs. 420-422
PDFs at Amorim CorkFacts
The Chemistry of Post Bottling Sulfides in Wine, Dr. Alan Limmer, Chemistry in New Zealand, Sept. 2005

…what starting a blog might do. I am sincere when I say I started the blog to “provide impetus to attempt to synthesize [wine] information and find true [wine] knowledge. I’m looking for winemaking and winegrowing truth.” It led to being found by the blokes over at Wines and Vines. I have this, and one other article coming…we’ll see if they want me for more. I suppose I should thank my mom and many of my English teachers who said - and I paraphrase - you never know where writing might take you. I certainly didn’t expect this. I was just trying to make good wine.

Pax Griffin’s Lair, 2005, Sonoma Coast Syrah

Pax has been on my radar for a year, but I have not tried the few that are in my cellar. The wines are expensive, so for me to place them in this category indicates that I believe the wines meet the quality expectation created by “peers” in a similar price point. The 2005 Griffin’s Lair, Sonoma Coast Syrah was tasted blind amongst such peers and I found the wine to be an excellent example of higher end California cool climate Syrah. The nose was gorgeous. Filled with raspberry, blackberry, smoked/cured ham (if you’ve been to Spain then you know what these shops smell like - for me it’s positive), oregano, and black pepper…amongst other things noted by the group. The black pepper was dominate in the flavors by mouth but the wine wasn’t homogenous and still seemed quite complex. The mid-palate concentration was excellent, the tannins were a little too apparent, but smooth (if I may use that term) and forgivable given the wine’s youth. Another distinguishing mark of this wine was the totality of the wine’s persistence in the mouth after swallowing…it is a long wine. I’m glad I have another one and I plan on holding it for a while. (not rated by the group, but it was wine of the night out of 8 Syrahs).

We recently had an interesting Washington Merlot tasting that featured wines predominately from the Chateau St. Michelle wine group. Two wines stood out to me and both seemed worthy of another look even though more expensive:

Description of Tasting Guidelines.

Northstar, Columiba Valley Merlot, 2004. While the wine is a little toastier than I normally like, it seemed to have some fruit layered beneath that oak. Additionally the nose had hints of chipotle, coffee, and dark chocolate which I found appealing. The mouthfeel was concentrated, balanced, with a moderate finish. I think this wine needs time to allow the oak to integrate, but for the quality of all its characteristics the $41 price tag seemed about right (Avg 6, Range 4-7).

Northstar, Walla Walla Merlot, 2004. Northstar was the winery of the night for me. The aromas were subtle and veiled. I found some coffee, toasty oak, liliac, and blackberries. The mouthfeel was a real winner. Very concentrated, silky, almost a sweet perception but in a positive way. Another wine that needs time to allow more fruit to be apparent through the oak. So with eyes to the future I found this wine to be superb and again would recommend it even at $60 (Avg 5, Range 3-7).

Click here for more on Columbia Valley
Click here for more on Walla Walla

People love the phrase In vino veritas I imagine because it rolls off the tounge so well, but additionally because of its witty reference to that muscle’s loosening when much vino is imbibed. In wine, or with wine, there is truth. But I wonder sometimes whether In vino scientia holds as well. Is there any true knowledge with wine? What follows are some observations I have made after 5 years in the industry spending time as a graduate student at UC Davis in addition to working in Fiddlehead Cellars, Sacred Hill, the vineyards of Germany, and HdV Wines. Most of this comes from a seminar I delivered as part of an interview for an Extension Faculty position that I ultimately turned down. Because extension positions naturally focus on distilling knowledge from both academia and the industry into forms that are usable my focus are some principles of science, enology, and in particular, how I think they may relate to aiding advancement of an industry.

I believe the goal of obtaining more knowledge of - and about - grapegrowing and winemaking is to use all our understanding to optimize our viticulture and enology to ensure we are making the best wine possible each vintage. Some may argue the real goal is to make money (certainly the owner’s goal if they are not also the winemaker). Why should these two goals be incompatible? They are not, but it takes scientific understanding, industry commitment, marketing, and cooperation to make it all happen.

But does anything stand in the way of this goal? As with most subjects, nothing is clear cut and nothing is blameless. I’d like to present the good, the bad, and ugly of Science and the Industry in terms of each’s ability to help us gain knowledge. Let’s start with science. How does science help us gain viticultural and enological knowledge and understanding?

The Good: Extremely valuable and responsible for much beneficial and useful technical knowledge regarding winemaking.
The Bad: Difficult to integrate all true possibilities that affect a certain outcome…often the scientific problem is posed as one specific condition or treatment, but initial conditions of juice, or the condition of finished wine rarely have only one element that may cause a problem…i.e. errors on being too focused or esoteric, requires patience
The ugly: Much more unknown than known. Requiring more research, money, etc.

The point: we can use more understanding and science can help us.

So how does the industry help us gain knowledge and understanding about winemaking?
I must be careful here because, well, I am speaking to the industry. But also because I think it is easy to misunderstand my point. Certainly there are practices we employ that science has not shown an effect for yet, but may indubitably have an effect. The fact is we don’t always know why we do things because they simply haven’t figured everything out, but the bottom line is decisions must be made. So the risk of course is that people tend to begin to think that their practices are impacting the wine and therefore their beliefs about winemaking begin to cloud their knowledge of winemaking and their ability to learn. Let me try again: we begin to think we do always know why we do something, or we think we have real knowledge. Do we? Here’s some good and some not so good with the Industry:

The good: Loads of experience, empirical data and intuition, and the cogs of wine production.
The bad: Explanations of success usually tied more to one’s general practices and their beliefs about winemaking than reproducible information (or scientia, knowledge). For better or for worse…but as far really knowing something this is “for worse.”
The ugly: Distilling what is really true, what really worked, from an anecdote associated with success. “I tried this and it worked!” Did it? “That was true for you, but not in my vineyard or cellar.” Oh.

The point: we can use more understanding and the industry can help us.

The Goal: develop and utilize our understanding of enology (via science and the industry) to make great wine.

So what to do? First let me say that there is a great cooperative spirit in the wine industry and a large degree of learning from one another. But I still observe skepticism due to context and dubious sources of knowledge being used. I beg your patience as I look a little further into how the good, the bad, and the ugly appear to manifest itself in the science/industry interface and their attempt to gain and use knowledge. Simply put, you might be able to say that epsitemologically we have become contextualist, or relativist. I don’t think this is isolated to the wine industry but probably largely cultural. It might seem odd to delve into the history of western thought in the middle of a wine blog post, but I believe it is critical to understand our presuppositions - in particular with knowledge - in order come up with an approach to improving what we know about wine. So, a quick review.

At the scientific revolution around the Renaissance, a reliance on scientific observation as the primary source of all knowledge was born. Richard Tarnas has written a wonderful history of western thought entitled The Passion of the Western Mind. In it he characterizes the optimism of the age following the birth of modern science as “directly tied to confidence in science and in its powers to improve indefinitely the state of human knowledge, health, and general welfare.” This was true up to the early 20th century when the foundations of math and physics were shaken by, amongst other things, the theory of relativity. When this occurred the rebellion that had been brewing in other disciplines (such as philosophy) due to the emphasis on the individual began to sprout as science’s hold on base knowledge loosened. Suddenly it seemed scientific knowledge was confined to “abstractions,” “symbols,” and “shadows” not actual knowledge of the world itself. This ultimately led to our current Post-Modern intellectual situation.

But let’s not throw the baby out with the bath water just yet. While recognizing both “an essential autonomy in the human being and a radical plasticity in the nature of reality” we find ourselves in a “challenging intellectual position that…begins with the assertion that reality itself tends to unfold in response to [a] particular…set of assumptions that are employed by each individual and each society.” Based on these observations of western thought one would predict that a contextual interpretation of data will be seen more and more. Is this not what we do in the winemaking industry? First, there seems to be great skepticism regarding scientific knowledge and recommendations based on such data. Second, one might say, “Well you may have observed that with your site, or your yeast strain, but what I see is…x, y, z…or different.” Third, scientist operating under their set of assumptions tend to discount or even entirely disregard empirical data coming from the industry, doubting it’s validity. Therefore as I said before the risk of course is that people tend to begin to think that their practices (in their context) are impacting the wine and therefore their beliefs about winemaking begin to cloud their knowledge of winemaking and their ability to learn. This can lead us to “a chaos of valuable but seemingly incompatible interpretations…with no resolution in sight.” Yikes!

However it does not mean there is nothing real or true about our surroundings, or in this case about viticulture and enology. Again Tarnas: “since evidence can be adduced and interpreted to corroborate a virtually limitless array of world views, the human challenge is to engage that world view or set of perspectives which brings forth the most valuable, life [or wine]-enhancing consequences.” Because the fact is we do know quite a bit and we know it certainly, not contextually. We know that the berry accumulates sugar after veraison. We know that anthocyanins make grapes purple. We know that yeast (in grape juice) - independent of context (wood vs. steel vessel) - ferment sugar to produce alcohol. I know this seems silly and simple, but reminding ourselves of these basic answers places what we do not know in…well, context. Will certain things remain mysterious? I hope so, the intuition required when dealing with such mystery is one thing that makes winemaking artisanal and great. However I believe we must allow what we observe in our context to loudly communicate with (not against!) more objective forms of gaining knowledge so that together advancement may be made and quality improved across the board. What I’d like to see is “thoughtful individuals engage the task of evolving a flexible [where necessary, e.g. knowledge of terroir] set of premises and perspectives that would not reduce or suppress the complexity and multiplicity of human [or cellar, vineyard] realities, yet could also serve to mediate, integrate, and clarify.” Additionally, I think I simply need to accept the fact that sometimes you just have to do things because you believe it is true, not because you know certainly. It makes for more lively discussion anyway.

30 years ago Amerine and Joslyn wrote “it is clear that we should soon have a complete picture of the chemical components of wines which influence their color, taste, odor, and quality. It is not yet clear how we can correlate this vast amount of information with the actual color, taste, and other characteristics of wines as perceived by the consumer. This is surely one goal of enologists for the last third of the 20th century (M.A. Amerine and M.A. Joslyn, Table Wines).” We do not have a complete picture yet, but it is less murky than it was 30 years ago. However mystery will remain for a long time regarding correlating that “vast amount of information” with ACTUAL components of quality AS PERCEIVED by the consumer. This creates risk for continued conextualization of wine knowledge, but hopefully all can work together to find a framework that continues to improve quality and production of wine.

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Epilogue.
I should note that the consumer (with the exception of the final paragraph) was entirely left out of the discussion. The reason is mainly a space/time question. I think the consumer is largely informed by marketing and by individuals in the industry who -as I already noted - are prone to communicate beliefs about winemaking more than knowledge of winemaking (unintentionally confusing the two). We’ll leave the consumer for another post.

I had this wine in a blind Bordeaux tasting that by far was the best flight of Bordeaux we have ever had in the group. I was surprised to learn how reasonably priced all the wines were. The 2004 Fleur Cardinale from a classified (Grand Cru) growth in Saint-Emillion showed wonderfully in my opinion. The nose was filled with a judicious amount of sweet oak, vanilla, smoke; fruits that included raspberry and cassis; and hints of grapefruit peel (a very positive character for me when subtle as it was here). While some thought the oak was a little heavy, and the tannins a little much, I thought both were not so out of balance that they weren’t forgivable given the wine’s age and it was still clearly the winner of the night. Additionally I found the mouthfeel to be well structured, concentrated, with a very long finish: a wine that should age well. All this from Bordeaux for $28 is remarkable and I immediately tracked it down and bought some. Enjoy.

Domaine de Triennes, Sainte Fleur Viognier, 2006

Apparently my house palate knows no bounds. I was given this wine and after enjoying the floral, peach, and white pepper aromas so much I did a little research and discovered that one of the partners of my current employer is a silent partner in this Domaine. A wine of the Var region in Provence, the mouthfeel was fresh and tasty with a good, moderately long finish. My research indicated that this wine goes for about $18, a great value. I knew nothing of this wine before and take comfort in the fact that I had no inclination to enjoy it but enjoy it I did. Additionally, if this is what Viognier tastes like (that is not like the domestic drivel I have had) then I can see why people use it in Syrah. The spicey white pepper notes reminded me of Syrah and would be a great fit in that red beauty.

While only one wine is sulfured, all the reds are pressed and we are getting a good picture of the 2007 vintage. I noted in the first Vintage Musings that low winter and spring rainfall totals led to early season water stress, something known to positively influence quality. Additionally, the relatively cool year was similar to 2005, and 2006; two years which had significantly more rainfall providing an opportunity to assume that many of the differences this year are due in large part to precipitation differences.

If you look at this simple graph of degree days, you will notice that although the number of degree days are higher in 2006, it is only slightly so, and the pattern of accumulation is virtually parallel. The same can be said for 2005 though the degree days finish almost exactly the same as 2007. Precipitation however is only about 27% of last years total and about 35% of the 12-year average in Carneros. Therefore it seems to me that indeed 2005, 2006, and 2007 are primarily different due to water availability. Of course this is an oversimplification, but I think we can start here (there was a significant heat spike in July 2006 that caused heat damage and impacted veraison but I won’t - as I usually do - blame everything about the ‘06 on that).

So what differences are we seeing with the wines? One thing that has surprised me is the lack of quality gains in the old Chardonnay. Our Chardonnay is typically some of the best fruit out there so perhaps there wasn’t much room for improvement. We’ll dissect that in a minute. Of the 3 Merlot blocks, two definitely have slightly better concentration than the previous two years and good structure to match. The oldest block of Merlot seemed as good as it normally is. The Cabernet also did not seem to make great gains over the previous two vintages. That leaves us with our Syrah, where in my opinion the greatest vintage effect can be observed. We are not a producer that relies on picking extremely late to achieve density, and this year was no different. However all the Syrah blocks this year are producing ridiculously concentrated wines. No doubt they are more powerful and a bit more masculine than what we normally see. So why not the quality gains across the board? I propose the hypothesis that the difference in the amount of quality gain can be explained primarily by the way early season water stress impacted each individual block in question. And that this is still consistent with and indeed suggests that my original suspicions regarding the vintage were not too far off.

Let me try the impossible and be brief. Problem number one: we don’t use a pressure bomb to determine water stress. Of course this means that small differences will be difficult to detect. Solution one: the rate of shoot growth (determined visually with almost weekly vineyard visits and by the number of times hedging was required) can be used as a good proxy for water stress when temperatures are in a ‘normal’ range for growth. Problem number two: I didn’t do any measurements over the last three years, just observations. Again this means small differences will be difficult to detect but since the rainfall amount was so drastically different I think it is safe to assume that differences were such that visual detection was obvious. Solution number two: my objectivity. You’ll just have to trust me here. I can be objective to a fault. Just ask my wife; sometimes in a ‘discussion’ I point out how she can better attack my arguments…though I eventually end up in a disturbing argument with myself. OK, so I don’t go that far.

The previous paragraph alone should hint at my objectivity. I am such a nerd that I want you to be aware that I am aware of the subjective measures by which I am drawing these conclusions and yet I feel they are still solid. Actually they are common sense if you are up with current viticulture literature or understand - as Principles and Practices puts it - “famous, high-quality wines often come from vineyards with relatively low fertility (read vigor).” After working with this vineyard for 4 vintages I have concluded that it is one such vineyard. Quite simply, the greatest quality gains this year were in the blocks that had the potential for the greatest devigoration from early water stress. And as per the previous paragraph this was evidenced by slow shoot growth that required NO hedging in blocks that typically require 1, 2, or 3 hedging passes. The blocks that generally require such tractor passes in order of frequency are the Syrah blocks followed by the young Chardonnay (representing 2 of 4)and then the young Merlot (representing 2 of 3).

After tasting all lots today I continue to be convinced that indeed the blocks just mentioned improved the most this year. So what of the other old vine blocks (Chard, Merlot, and Cab.)? Well, they are tremendous…but that is par for the course. I think it is typical for the exact reason that 1) they already have low vigor and generally require 0 (sometimes 1) hedging pass to address excessive shoot growth in normal years. Of course there are other factors involved here that make the site wonderful, but what I have outlined above consistently produces wines of weight and concentration that is gained from methods other than extended ripening. 2) At least for white wine it is generally accepted that early water stress (or severe water stress in general for that matter) is less important for improving quality that it is in reds. Interestingly, the early stress not only impacted canopy vigor, but also clearly impacted fruit and cluster size. Most obviously in Chardonnay. But as noted, even though cluster size was down 50% in Chardonnay, I would not say quality was up 50% or even close to that. Another indication that yield is not so simply linked with quality…but how you get that yield probably is. And this year lower vigor and lower yield as a result of low water availability early has clearly positively impacted quality in the blocks where vigor is generally the greatest.

OK, so the whole post is a general simplifications but the main point is that quality across the board is up and the vintage devigorated blocks that need devigoration the most and this has resulted in serious quality gains in those blocks. The message is clear: buy your futures now.