Alto Adige: Part II – The Wines

While the inspiring Alto Adige alpine basin landscape is undeniably alluring, confronting a flight of mid-term, bottle-aged white wines from the region’s leading cooperatives is utterly compelling. Single varietal bottlings of Pinot Grigio, Sauvignon Blanc, Chardonnay, and Gewurztraminer along with blended versions involving even more varietals were unanimously distinctive and serious wines. Despite the fact these wines are mostly made in cooperatives offering entry level, mid level, and upper level product, all of the wines were authentic ambassadors for their Alto Adige varietal character and none seemed mass produced.  Each bottle offers unique definition of style that was clearly born in the vineyard and respected by winemakers keen on capturing and protecting terroir.  Alto Adige white wines are serious, offer strong value, and many can be included in any list of the finest white wines in all of Italy.

Our flight of wines paraded recognizable regional commonality.  All of these Alto Adige white wines had consistently rich and lush textures that never resulted in overly fat or flabby palate impressions. Significant concentration and velvet mouthfeels reverberated as a common regional characteristic despite the wines coming from scattered Südtirol vineyards to the north and south, and from varying altitudes. Second, these finely textured wines finished crisp and with good acidity, providing structure and balance to the weighty richness.  And finally, the wines offered distinctly different, but authentically unique, interpretations of the same varietals grown elsewhere in Italy (Pinot Grigio from the Veneto and Friuli region) and around Europe (Gewurztraminer from Alsace or the Rhine), often with more restraint, purity of fruit, balance, minerality, and finesse.  All the wines’ current 2009 releases are priced beween $24 and $55, representing outstanding values in today’s market for the finest white wines with aging potential.

Here is a rundown (and shopping list) of the wines we tasted, grouped by star ratings inclusive of prices for current releases:

****1/2

$40 Alois Lageder Chardonnay Löwengang, 2002- Utterly mind blowing and a completely appropriate value substitute for Grand Cru Burgundy in strong vintages. The winery was founded in 1823 and is currently operated by the family’s fifth generation.  While 2002 was a terrible vintage in Italy overall, it was obviously better in Alto Adige, where the mountains are credited with defying the country’s otherwise terrible weather.  The fruit comes from 45-60 year old vines. Stylistically Burgundian, using natural yeast and aged for eleven months on the lees in half new barriques, it maintains great structure, balance, and a pleasantly creamy mouthfeel.  Combines hints of tropical notes, chalk, nuttiness, and acidity all adding up to a fully integrated wine of noble finesse.  You will be challenged to pay $40 or less for a white wine that can replicate top Burgundy wine the way this one does six years following its release.  A major “buy” recommendation.

****

$36 San Michele Appiano Pinot Grigio St. Valentin, 2006- Some butter and oak mixing with bright grapefruit on the nose.  The wine is fermented in new barriques and then sits a half year on the lees in stainless steel.  It shows the regionally familiar super rich and weighty mouthfeel but does not come off fat.  It has pear and apple notes, fresh and not heavy in the mouth, finishing crisply with appropriate acid zing.

$48 Caldaro Sauvignon Castel Giovanelli, 2007-Initially showing bright Sauvignon varietal notes, then touches of earthiness.  Bright berries, peach, and again, a rich and impressive mouthfeel with an elegant and lengthy finish.

$35 Tramin Gerwurztraminer Nussbaumer, 2004-Flowers on the nose pleasingly make way for minerality to shine through and create balance and integration that seems to define this varietal in Alto Adige.  Obvious lychee sweetness, this wine was most impressive for its richness and weight and was easily the fattest wine of the bunch.  Of the two Gewruztraminers, it is probably closer to the style of Gewurztraminer I am more familiar with from places like Alsace and the Rhine.

***1/2

$55 Terlan Nova Domus Terlaner Riserva, 2005- Light yellow in color, a blend of Pinot Blanc, Chardonnay, and Sauvignon Blanc, it is suggested that this wine is best drunk with 2-3 years of bottle age and that it is “better to drink a bottle than a glass”.  It shows stone fruit notes with significant acidity, complexity, and that ever present richness and long finish.   A lovely wine with good finesse and balance.

***

$40 Franz Haas Cuvée Manna, 2004- Here is a blend made from Chardonnay, Riesling,  Sauvignon, and Gewurztraminer. All of the fruit is sourced within a five square mile area in the Southwest of Alto Adige, but altitudes and soils change from 700-2000 feet.  Consistent terroir?  You call it.  Anyway, it is a fun wine to drink with a very deep yellow color, quince, tropical fruit, herbs, and that characteristic rich mouthfeel.  For all that is going in and has gone into the wine, with some varietals fermented in wood, some only in steel before blending and then beginning a resting period on top of their lees, it continues to cling to a restrained and classy style. Fun, but serious in the same sip.

$29 Peter Zemmer Gewurztraminer Reserve, 2006- The reserve notation in Alto Adige refers to the legal requirement preventing release prior to the 2nd January following production.  It is a highly aromatic wine with sweet bursts or nectar, very ripe peach, nuts, flowers, a touch of citrus and one more time, that purity and richness on the palate.

**1/2

$24 Nals Margreid Pinot Grigio Punggl, 2007- This was the first wine we tasted and it made me sit up straight and pay attention.  Entirely unique with chalk, melon rind, and herbs on the nose it was mildly complex and nicely structured in the finish.  The rich luscious mouthfeel was absolutely the single finest and most interesting highlight about this wine, and the finesse, balance, and integration that was more evident in the other wines did not come through in as pronounced fashion.  Still a very good wine and example of Alto Adige style, but just not the best of the bunch.

There is an absence of cute flashiness in these wines that might distract from their pure fruit representation and varietal identity. As such, they exist as tremendous food wines and a really satisfying fine wine indulgence all at once.  Their ability to age was proven in this tasting.  Go and enjoy the discovery of Alto Adige’s serious winemaking culture, and definitely consider paying a visit to this region straddling Italy, Austria, Switzerland, alpine mountains, and Mediterranean influenced valleys.

P.S. If the wines sound interesting but you missed Alto Adige: Part I, then this pictorial overview and regional summary is worth reading. It will cement your intrigue.

My last bottles of 1990, 1991, 1993, and 1997 Stony Hill Chardonnay comprised a short vertical flight preceding two blind flights of 2007 Cabernets that sixteen members of our Boston tasting group recently slurped, swallowed, and spit their way through.  I purchased the wines on release back in the 90′s and one bottle from each vintage survived years of regular cellar raids. Stony Hill’s unique style and winemaking approach seemed a best bet for testing California Chardonnay’s potential for improvement over time.

Robert Dwyer did an admirable job with his comprehensive wrap up of the Stony Hill Chardonnay/2007 Cabernet tasting at his The Wellesley Wine Press blog; one of my favorite, no-nonsense, practical reads in the wine blogosphere.  To be honest, I have been waiting some fifteen years to line these four vintages of hillside Chardonnay up next to each other and to embrace the risky experiment’s results head on. While the California Cab flights from the strong 2007 vintage were thrilling, my anticipation and curiosity was almost completely fueled by the Chardonnays on the evening of the tasting.  So click on the preceding Wellesley Wine Press links and have a peek at the Cabernet tasting summary; it was laced with its own intrigue and surprise.

Stony Hill started making wine in their own unique style and vision, just a few miles north of St. Helena in the western hills of Napa Valley, in the 50′s.  The wine making approach highlights racking off the lees, protection of the fruit’s original acidity, avoidance of malolactic fermentation, and the utilization of neutral oak cooperage to provide some complexity without subjecting the juice to a cloak of dominant oak.  Their goal is to produce Chardonnay with balanced acidity and authentically high toned fruit flavor.  In their youth, the wines defy any preconception of oaky, buttery California Chardonnay and over the twenty years I have been drinking the wines, Stony Hill has never succumbed to market trends or pressures that could have distracted them from this mission .  As a side note, even the label has barely changed over the years and the comforting nostalgic design always make me smile.

How did the wines perform?  Well, just so-so.  Still, the drinking experience was largely educational and mostly enjoyable.  These wines are so expressively fruit driven, focused, and vibrant when they are young that even with this tasting’s validation of their ability to linger on without completely falling apart, they struggled to justify a long term cellaring strategy. Besides the fact I am on the wrong side of 50-years-old, this tasting’s results guide me to lay away new vintages closer to an eight year term.  Here is a run down of the wines’ performances:

1990 Stony Hill Chardonnay ($25 on release)

Amazingly, as the oldest vintage, this wine was thrilling immediately after opening and lingers in my mind as a wildly successful experiment in extended California Chardonnay cellaring. Slight oxidation was evident, but the wine showed off its pear and bright apple aromatics well, representing itself to be surprisingly alive and vibrant with almost bracing acidity. The wine sits in your mouth with enough weight and viscosity to raise eyebrows and nods of approval, and finishes with impressive length. The 1990 proved to be an enigma on the California Chardonnay landscape, and had me patting myself on the back for my patience and commitment to the experiment. Disappointingly, after 15 minutes of oxygen exposure in the glass the wine lost its vibrancy and started to wilt.  But, the first ten minutes were really fun, educational, and rewarding on both hedonistic and intellectual levels.  The moral: age slowly and drink quickly!

1991 Stony Hill Chardonnay ($45 on release)

As opposed to crispy fresh apple flavor in the first wine, the 1991 had distinct baked or mealy apple aromas. It was more flabby than the 1991 in the mouth, was losing its weight and fruit, had a higher degree of oxidation, and many of of the group’s tasters picked up Sherry-like qualities.  It saddened me to drink this wine now remembering its delicious youth, but comforted myself by chalking the whole project up to education.

1993 Stony Hill Chardonnay ($35 on release)

This vintage reignited my interest.  Again, baked apple dominated the nose but it combined with minerals and wet stone aromatics.  While it was struggling to cling onto a tiny bit of lasting structure, there was a lively saline flavor element that spoke to the minerality that also freshens up the nose.  Still not as good as the first ten minute experience with the 1990, the 1993 was most definitely interesting and complex but lacked in structure and lasting fruit.

1997 Stony Hill Chardonnay ($35 on release)

Regrettably, enough folks identified the bottle as corked.  It also had completely lost its fruit and structure.  It seemed closer to what I figured would happen to Chardonnay from California after sitting in a bottle and dark cellar for more than ten years.  Holding this wine was a failed experiment, but I do wish we could have tasted another bottle.

The notes on these old wines should not stop anyone from buying Stony Hill Chardonnay and drinking the wines inside the decade of their release.  They demand attention and are uniquely compelling.  Nor should these notes discourage your own cellar experiments. The learning is tremendously fun and you will taste California wines at a life stage that very few ever get to experience.  That’s special.

Raging self doubt and curiosity fuels an unremitting panoply of cross examinations intended to dig up the root cause of my shifting preference in wine style.  Have I fallen victim to trend and popular fashion?  Is my palate simply evolving?  Or, have I discovered regions and varietals I once dismissed without fair chance? Did I subconsciously succumb to a new breed of wine opinion leaders?  Or, are global wine economics telling my brain to prefer something different than before?  It’s all bothersome.

I have uncorked enough bottles to occupy  an entire landfill brimming with caramel tinged Chardonnay, fruit driven Zinfandel, ripe Syrah, big California Cabernet, and young voluptuous Bordeaux empties. Now, not so much.  My palate’s eye drifts to Loire, Beaujolais, and elsewhere in search of grace and balance, gripping acidity and rocky, stony, mineral driven wines offering restraint, purity of fruit, and low alcohol levels.  It’s no secret that I am not alone, but I hate to think that I have been swept away by popular wine opinion to abandon the style of wine I preferred to cut my teeth on during the last 25 years.

Last year, Ojai Vineyard’s Adam Tolmach repentantly told the LA Times that “The [new] goal is to produce 14%-alcohol wines with nuance…to avoid overripe prune and jam flavors and preserve acidity to allow the more delicate floral and herbal qualities to emerge. I want to take the Eurocentric sense of balance and apply it in California.”  And last week in the New York Times’ Eric Asimov wrote about the old California “Chardonnay Mafia” and offered some insight into the range of styles, from rich to lean, that either existed or emerged over the years.  Asimov struck a chord with me in his reference to a long time favorite California Chardonnay and Pinot producer, Steve Kistler.  Steve has more at stake than I do working his way through a familiar style preference shift; Kistler is reinventing a successful business model to follow his own palate.  Learning about Kistler’s evolving personal preference provided some relief to my trend-adverse palate paranoia:

Kistler is still popular, but its style is evolving, the wines becoming less oaky, less powerful, more graceful and focused. It’s an extremely rare instance of a winery, at the top of the heap, altering a successful formula, and the subject of my column this week.

What does Kistler’s evolution signify? Well, let’s be clear. Kistler is not pandering to a shift in the marketplace or of public tastes. It’s more about following the arc of Steve Kistler’s own taste, and as he told me, he found himself in the last decade preferring wines that were more lively and structured, with finesse, to wines that were powerful above all.

I had another opportunity last week to put my unfaithfully wavering style allegiance to test, organizing and hosting a tasting for a group of twelve tasters with keen palates but less radical style allegiances.  I poured the following wines in a first flight, moving up the scale of alcohol content and down in acidity, in this order and side by side in three glasses:

1. 2008 Domain du Moulin Cour-Cheverny Les Petits Acacias ($16 **1/2)
2. 2008 Clos Roche Blanche Touraine Sauvignon No. 2 ($18  ****)
3. 2005 Paul Hobbs Chardonnay Russian River ($50  ***)

The wines were all fine, good to excellent in their own right. We were comparing the wines primarily for style preference.  They have very little to do with each other, with a whole lot more to separate them.

The Domain du Moulin features the obscure Romorantin grape only grown in this region.  It was a test in acidic tolerance, with crisp lime, wheat, and a raw almond character that was lean and bracing. The aromatics and flavors were a bit flat, you really needed to search. Nevertheless, it is a bit of a fascination to drink wines from Cour-Cheverny just because there really is nothing made like it anywhere else in the world.  I can see it cutting through even the richest white seafood sauce, or maybe served just as a palate stirring aperitif.  It was the least favorite of the group, but not to be dismissed outright.

The Clos Roche Blanche style was favored by more than half of us.  It is a really special wine, and a bargain at the price. Here is a wine that actually combines a saline, tangerine, citrus peel, herb (fresh parsley in particular), mineral profile with a smooth and rich mouthfeel that carries the sharply defined and somewhat edgy flavor components across the palate in a really elegant style. The wine appeals to clean and lean flavor fans, but also has a richness and semi-unctuous mouthfeel that fans of round and richer wines might prefer. It is a special wine, a ridiculous value, and easily my favorite from a stylistic perspective and as an individual wine.  I will keep the cellar stocked.

After these two wines, the Paul Hobbs tasted like a fitting dessert. Granted, it has been laying around the cellar for a few years, always a chancy proposition with domestic Chardonnay.  One person thought it ought to be served with creme brulee. It tasted just that way.  Fat with notes of caramel and hazelnut, the fruit was unfocused and starting to fall away.  There was limited acidity to hold the wine together much longer, and its flabbiness was noticeable.  Yet, the fat style and loud rich candied flavors were recognizeable old friends, something I yearned for no less than 5 years ago.  I marveled, one more time, at my palate’s “about face”.  At that very moment, I recalled recently opening a bottle of another high profile Chardonnay with Eric Broege after tasting through a group of Lopez de Heredia wines, only for him to recork the wine remarking it needed apple pie or some kind of sweet desert to do it any justice.  It was like drinking liquid cotton candy.

Could twenty years of Chardonnay and “big” wine fascination been a palate stage that had me drinking fat, unfocused, super rich wine that were really desserts in disguise?  What I want to believe is that palate preferences mature.  Don’t get me wrong, I still thoroughly enjoy well balanced and structured mouthfuls of bold Cabernets, Rhones, Bordeaux, Zin and the like that tell a story about the land they come from with distinctive character.  But there is no mistaking my craving for pretty wines with restraint and grace that invigorate my palate with salivating acidity. Validated once again in this evening’s little experiment is that I, and actually the majority of the group, prefer the style of wines from Touraine like Clos Roche Blanche because of their grace, minerality, and balance.  The group tasting result added further punch to Steve Kistler’s soothing effect on my self doubting paranoia.  My fellow tasters on this evening applied open minds and untethered palates to give the nod to the wine with the most restrained grace, solid acidity, fresh citrus flavors, and appropriately rich mouthfeel.

The evidence is mounting in favor of my palate’s redemption. Maybe I can stop beating myself up now.  I think I like this kind of wine at this late stage of my life of wine appreciation just because…well just because….I do.