Canlis is so much more than a place to eat and drink well in Seattle.  A combination of the scintillating year-old menu rejuvenation driven by ex-Eleven Madison Park Chef Jason Franey and the Canlis family’s sustained approach to warmth and hospitality leaves diners with nothing less than a spa-like afterglow on each visit.  Last year I shared some thoughts on Canlis’ renewal and a few evenings ago, I witnessed the venerable institution hitting its stride and kicking the whole experience up one more notch.

Reserving visits to Canlis solely for special occasions, as so many locals do, is an oversight.  This recent trip gave me a chance to finally share Canlis with my wife on a beautiful Seattle summer evening before our following morning’s journey to the dreamy and isolated town of Torino, BC on Vancouver Island’s west coast.  On a personal note, I pinged Jason Franey in advance to make sure he was in the house to once again offer our deep appreciation to him for helping make our son’s stage at Eleven Madison Park a valuable and bearable introduction to the hard work happening in the best restaurant kitchens around the world.  Jason is a poised young chef who used an inner resourcefulness to repeatedly rise to the occasion as a most competent second in command under Chef Daniel Humm, this year’s James Beard Top New York Chef winner.  While we planned on eating light this evening and drinking only one special bottle of Northwest wine, Jason regaled us with an innumerable flow of dishes, each one more compelling than the next.  Here is an incomplete but impressive pictorial summary of our extended and energetic evening menu:

Tomatoes

Prosciutto and Melon

Pork Belly

Foie Gras

These creations progressively covered our table for two before our chosen duck, truffled fries, and forest mushroom requests showed up.  The last image of the foie gras dish, served with an ethereal brioche, was the show stopper.  On a post dinner walk with Jason Franey through his urban herb and vegetable garden located at the edge of the entry driveway, where valet parkers escort your vehicle away on arrival without providing a claim ticket and then discreetly and diligently scour the dining room keeping tabs on your progress to have car awaiting your exit without further prompting, he explained the foie gras was nostalgically “black and white” cookie inspired.  A mold is deployed to combine a light white cheese concoction (can not recall the type of cheese, so ask when you go) alongside the creamy foie gras preparation.  A mouthful of the two combined, lathered on a hunk of brioche, provides a rush that overshadows any guilt surrounding the artery clogging moment.  Do not go to Canlis without trying this dish.

Reynvaan The Contender 2007

Finally, the wine.  I refused to allow the epicurean food induced trance, non-intrusive and welcomed table visits and chats with Brian Canlis and his genuinely content senior dining room staff, the emergent grace from the nearby table featuring his parents discreetly  hosting six good looking new staff members to a welcome dinner, a glowing Lake Union, distant regal mountain ranges,  and touches of calming Asian decor distract my purposeful hunt for a new and great Washington State Syrah.

This time the really capable cellar team guided me to a Syrah that included touches of Marsanne called 2007 Reynvann Syrah The Contender. They had sold their last bottle of the winery’s In The Rocks which is supposedly more accessible right now, but The Contender showcased more than enough pleasure at this sitting.   The wine was packed with power, yet it never danced on the borderline of being an overblown fruit bomb or too heavily extracted.  The wine had mass and weight, but remained graceful in its power.  And,  all that power released a parade of flavor components that became accessible in their own time during the several hour meal.  The dominant characteristic that lived with the wine from beginning to end was cooked bacon.  The fatty burnt pork aromas were powerful yet harmonious, bringing memories of great Cote Rotie.  Also, the rich and chewy black plum fruit was accompanied by an elegant floral perfume, altogether in pin point balance.  I actually flashed to the analogous vision of a Sumo wrestler performing perfect tip-toed ballet.   This 2007 vintage is Reynvaan’s first, and I have added myself to their mailing list which you can do here as well.  If you visit the site, you will note the following description of their vision, vineyard, and resulting wine:

Reynvaan Family Vineyards is a small family owned winery started by Mike and Gale Reynvaan in May 2004 in Walla Walla, Washington.  We initially purchased a 37 acre parcel of land on Cottonwood Road at the base of the Blue Mountains.  Reynvaan Family Vineyards is dedicated to creating fine wines exclusively from the terroir of Walla Walla Valley.

We have two vineyards planted that represent each end of the terroir spectrum.  Our first vineyard has 16 acres under vine that we call “In the Rocks,” to demonstrate where and how they were planted.  It was first planted in 2005 with the goal to create wines that would clearly express that vineyard’s unique terroir and minerality.  We began planting small 5 acre blocks each year to better understand the terrior and choose the best vines for particular locations.  Our first vintage, 2007, comes from that first 5 acres of vines, creating three wines: a Rhone white varietal blend, “Queens Road White”, a Syrah co-fermented with Viognier called “In the Rocks”; and a second Syrah co-fermented with Marsanne called “The Contender.”  The vineyard now includes two red varietals: Syrah and Cabernet Sauvignon; plus three white varietals: Viognier, Marsanne and Grenache Blanc….The winemaking philosophy is quite simple at Reynvaan Family Vineyards, harvest perfectly ripe clusters that reflect their distinct terroir, guide the wines through a natural upbringing and bottle them only when we feel the true characteristics of the wine have been revealed.

A magical evening awaits anyone at Canlis.  It is a place to celebrate a 25th wedding anniversary, but it is also a place to celebrate life on any given day.  A Zen infused performance in food and hospitality is played out on this cliff six nights a week.  Enjoy, and remember to smile when you are there….everyone else is.

In the late 1980′s before the Walla Walla Valley appellation blossomed into more than 100 wineries farming over 1,800 acres of vineyards in a particularly dry region blessed with extended growing seasons, pioneers Gary Figgins and Rick Small slipped onto my developing list of world class winemakers.  I made sure their releases beat regular paths to my cellar.  Figgins’ Leonetti and Small’s Woodward Canyon Cabernets and Merlots were attention grabbers, showing classic varietal structure while consistently paying homage  to the Valley vineyards’ unique terroirs that produced well structured and luscious, rich, black and red fruited wines tinged with mocha and cocoa aromas that became familiar uniforms for these dignified young wines .   Leonetti produced its first wines in 1978 as Walla Walla’s only winery, and while Figgins’ wines were fit rewards for even the most discriminating hedonist,  there was a total absence of any empirical evidence supporting a bottle aging strategy for enthusiasts lured to this  fringe Northwest AVA.

When Spokane’s Josh Wade (@nectarwine) suggested I give online tasting a fair try by participating in #WAMerlot this past week, I jumped at the chance to organize a short vertical tasting of five Leonetti Merlots including 1992, 93, 97, 98, and 2002 to see how the wines were handling their 8-18 years in my cellar.  I invited Dale, Amanda, and Malcolm (who donated the 1992 vintage to the cause) to help me simultaneously discover the attributes of (1) tweeting and tasting, and (2) Leonetti and cellaring.

The tweeting thing was fine, making new Twitter friends who were long lost or never discovered fringe wino brethren that also succumbed to the unheard of Walla Walla AVA and Leonetti Cellars almost 20 years ago, when twittering was nothing more than the trembling hand shaking motions that occurred disgorging corks from old bottles of classic Bordeaux.   I was glad to have followed Josh’s nudge, but to also have my in-person tasting group at the table to protect the human connection that lives  somewhere near the center of my dedication to wine appreciation.  But, there were lots of #WAMerlot folks that related to the joyous appreciation  of our short vertical Leonetti tasting experience.  Admittedly, it was difficult to keep up with the online tasters’ experiences with Washington Merlot with such a compelling lineup in the glassware stretched out in front of me.

We decanted the wine an hour  before tasting.  The general good news is,  except for the 2002, all the wines were improving in the bottle.  The 1998 is a mind blowing wine and in a separate league from the rest, a very special vintage in Walla Walla, and the year’s Leonetti Merlot has at least another decade or two of befitting bottle age ahead of it.  It is a wine I would seek out at auction.  The 1997 took an additional hour in the glass to really show what it was made of, and it is another classic but totally different wine than the 1998.  The 92 and 93 provided the good rewards of bottle age, and showed attractive advanced flavoring and aromas, with the 1993 considerably better than the still interesting, but somewhat less lively, 1992.  Both corks on these two older wines showed evidence of slight leakage, but neither wine suffered from flaws of oxidation or cork damage.

All of these wines have retained evidence of their signature youthful tell-tale profiles, but have advanced (again, except for the 2002) to places I once reserved in my mind for great old wines of Pomerol and Graves.  We did notice that the wines of the early 90′s had 13% alcohol content and the more recent ones climbed to 13.6%.   Each year the Leonetti Merlot includes some varied blended quantities of Cabernet Sauvignon, Cabernet Franc, and/or Petit Verdot while the younger vintages also include some Sangiovese (which the winery started offering as a bottled varietal sometime in the late 90′s) and Carmanere.  I am curious what is driving the increased alcohol content in the later vintages.

Leonetti Cellars Merlot: My Tasting Notes:

• 1992-Slight cork leakage but firm pull from the bottle with noticeable pop, evidence of brown coloration on the edges, old cedary nose, dusty cocoa-cherry mixing with Schezuan peppercorn spice…a sweet and elegant wine with old Pomerol bones but just slightly beginning to dry out as it has achieved full maturity
• 1993- Cork leakage and less snug than the 92, aromas of dust, mushroom, sweet cherry fruit with a velvet mouthfeel, lovely long finish, advanced aromas and flavors from beginning to end.  More fruit stuffing in evidence than the 1992.  A classically developing old wine with time ahead of it.
• 1997: Deep purple in color, a nose of chocolate covered cherries, rich odors of Hong Kong harbor or an Asian spice market, and tobacco leaf, the wine took time in decanter and glass to open and show this amalgam of glorious perfume elements preceding its rich mouthfeel and extended delicious finish.  It was the most exotic wine of the line up and one to cherish, but only after long periods of aeration.
• 1998- A completely monumental wine and hands down, at the head of this amazingly talented class of wines.  Purple all the  way to the edge without and visual sign of age, raw meat and butcher shop,  spicy Asian notes, and a sweet rich black cherry nose, the wine is magically knitted together in complete balanced harmony and offers a complexity of flavor and sensations that is only found in the finest wines.  If there are better wines in the world made from Merlot, I can only imagine they are sourced from the finest vineyards and producers in Pomerol
• 2002- Vanilla and essence of butter dominate the nose, a one dimensional wine in comparison to the rest of the line up.  Dale thought it reminded him of his Grandmother’s mashed potatoes, and I get that by adding the butter aromas to a spud-like raw aroma quality.    This  wine has not improved in any way that has made the wine more enticing over its 8 years and it does not appear to have the components or balance to impress any time sooner or later.

It was a very special tasting opportunity.  Besides the one wine Malcolm brought, all the wines are part of the Leonetti collection that sits in my cellar but ends in 2002.  Why did I stop buying the wine?  I was on the mailing list, which was really the only way to get the wine on the east coast, and after buying wines for 10 years, every year, Leonetti kicked me off the list somewhere around 2004 because I failed to buy one vintage, and they replaced me with someone on their long waiting list!! On one level I understand this, but on most levels I find it appalling, disgraceful, and insulting to a customer that had bought consistently for so many years.  And who LOVES the wine.  I have no access to these wines anymore and that’s a shame.  The good news, though, is this year when the wine industry is suffering its first soft period after so many years of growth, I cleared the Cayuse and Quilceda Creek waiting lists after enough years of waiting that I forgot I ever applied.  In 15 years from today, I hope to be able to post on the progress of those excellent Washignton State wines.

P.S. Amanda brought a bottle of 2007 Chateau St. Michelle Indian Wells Merlot to taste.  It was  fruit bomb wine that was black purple, a little tobacco and spice on the nose, a rich full mouthfeel, but highly extracted and oaked.  I could have mistaken the wine for an Aussie Shiraz on alocholic steroids.  Some will like it, but it belonged in a different pack of competitors than these elegat and classy Leonettis.

P.S.S The big difference: I can buy the CSM Indian Wells easily for $17 but can’t even use 10 years of customer loyalty and $100 to snag a current release Leonetti no matter how hard I try!

Ever wonder what would happen subjecting simple wines, intended for immediate drinking pleasure, to extended aging terms in unsuitable environments?  It’s a risky wager and not a fully recommended strategy, even with careful wine selection and pristine cellaring conditions.  While vinous curiosity has driven some oddball aging decisions in the hopes of padding my stash with more bottles showing advanced flavor and aroma nuances, (you can read more about when wine is ready to drink in this post at Palate Press), I  would never have purposely put in motion the unplanned experiment I wrapped up visiting my parents in West Palm Beach, FL this past weekend.

My folks live in Florida and I visit them once a year from Boston.  Bring the grandkids down, eat some of Mom’s Jewish soul food, snag a few authentic bagels, hack away at a round of rusty winter golf, hugs, kisses, and home.  When we all lived in Brooklyn together in the 60s and early 70s, we drank Manishewitz at Passover.  Fine wine was not part of the ethnic cultural fabric we were weaving in Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn.  But now, Mom and Dad enjoy when I bring home a decent bottle or two from a trip to the Winn Dixie (slim pickings as you will soon see).  Nothing special, just a drinkable quaff.  Somehow, I always buy one too many bottles forgetting that a glass or two is all Mom and Dad are looking for.

So, I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised when I opened their sideboard cabinet to find four bottles sitting around from earlier visits including 1999 Ravenswood Lodi Zinfandel, 2001 Columbia Crest Semillon/Chardonnay, 2001 Columbia Crest Chardonnay, and 2002 Mouton Cadet White.  Nothing too exciting, but a good 9-10 years of bottle age to check out!  It was time to open these wines to see if we were in for a surprise, or more predictably, be pouring them down the drain.

I remember buying the Ravenswood and the Columbia Crest wines, but not the Mouton Cadet.  This cabinet was not temperature controlled, and who knows what kind of temperature or humidity swings occur in my parent’s Florida home when air conditioning fails, storms roll through, and periods of travel interrupt steady cool air.

Here were the results:

1)1999 Ravenswood Lodi Zinfandel:  This wine received low ninety point scores on release from the Wine Spectator and Wine Enthusiast.  I would have suspected that Ravenswood’s “No Wimpy Wine” approach would create the best shot at survival.  Maybe so, but the cork crumbled when disgorging.  The wine was totally oxidized, brown around the edges, all the fruit was missing, and alcohol and heat dominated.  My Dad actually liked it.   I think it reminded him of the cheap Schnapps that my grandfather would toast with.  Undrinkable.

2) 2002 Mouton Cadet:  Rusty orange in color.  Trouble in evidence before even opening.  The wine, composed of Sauvignon Blanc and Semillon, was also completely oxidized.  But, the cork was in excellent shape and there was no leakage.  There were vegetal, raw mushroom, and medicinal aromas.  The wine smelled a bit like urine.  Undrinkable.

3)2001 Columbia Crest Chardonnay:  The wine was a light, yellow, golden color.  Surprisingly bright and clear and still alive.  There were no advanced aromas in evidence on the nose, but a good waft of pears came through nicely.   The wine had solid structure, did not appear to be in decline AT ALL, and presented itself with a rich and full mouthfeel.  If I was told this wine released last year I would not doubt it.  Surprisingly drinkable and enjoyable, but not sure what was acheived in the aging process.  Not worth the wait, but battle tested.

4) 2001 Columbia Crest Semillion/Chardonnay:  While the wine was certainly in decline, it had a honeyed, roasted chestnut advanced aroma that was quite pleasing and enjoyable.  The wine was starting to get a little flabby around the edges, but still had a very nice round and smooth mouthfeel.  It was fun to drink, offered the most acceptable advanced flavors of the entire bunch, but was flirting with the end of its life.  I was glad to taste it, and would enjoy it with the right kind of food, but it was on the wrong side of it’s life curve.

The experiment produced a 50% drinkability rate.  Of the wines that were still alive, one did not advance and simply clung to its original identity. The other did advance, took on some old wine characteristics, but was flirting with the end of its natural life.  How surprising that the two white wines from Washington State managed to survive and the old world fruit from Bordeaux did not.  The Zinfandel has to be disqualified from the test due to cork damage.

It was unplanned, but an interesting experiment.  In the right cellar conditions, the outcome could have been more interesting and the Zinfandel might have lived and who knows about the Mouton Cadet.  I am going to buy a case of mixed mass-produced wines of decent quality and stick them away in  my cellar for 10 years.  It will make for a fun evening down the line, there is very little to lose, and lots to discover.

There are spaces and experiences I encounter in life where it is possible to feel the bones of venerablity and simultaneously appreciate the harmonic enhancements of current day excellence.  Last night,  in the same spot the family started back in 1950 on a Seattle cliff, Canlis glistened with energetic respect for its history and a nod to its new iteration.

Because my visits to Seattle are sporadic, I am late to the news that Jason Franey from NY eatery Eleven Madison Park (a highly recommended personal top pick ) had taken over the kitchen nearly six months ago.   The seven years he spent working under Daniel Humm was in clear evidence as the menu and service combined the warm elegance of the traditional space and long time Canlis menu favorites (Canlis Prawns) with an upgraded venue and menu that achieved new heights without violation of its history.  Zipping through to the wine, I will leave it to the foodie bloggers to rave about the pork belly starter, the fresh local cherry gazpacho, the foam enveloped halibut, and the ultimate cup of coffee made by a $40,000 coffee machine found in no other restaurant in the entire country (it is Seattle after all).

The fairly priced list was powerful and complete offering Washington State bottles just not seen on East Coast menus, a significant number of verticals from select Oregon and California Pinot producers, an admirable Rhone selection, and enviable California, Burgundy, and Bordeaux sections.  Ignoring anything to do with proximity, I started in Spain with the 2008 Bodegas Laxas, Rias Baixas, comprised of 100% Albarino fruit.  It was a good complement to the Black Cod wrapped in squash blossoms.  The wine’s themes were summer white fruits and tangerine citrus while the nose moved from hints of stick gum to sweet taffy as it lingered in the glass.  There was brightness to the wine with enough acidity to work well with the rich candy on the nose.  The Albarino was serious, lively, and fun all at once.

Assistant Wine Director Phillip Dunn suggested the 1999 Soter Beacon Hill Pinot Noir from Willamette, Oregon was ready to go and drinking famously.  He was right. Still with enough lasting acidic backbone and fruit to support a few more years of cellaring, the initial nose was dominated by earthiness and mushrooms.  Behind that, the wine was silky and balanced on the attack providing richness followed by a notable and lasting finish.  The earthiness blew off after 15-20 minutes when cola, tea, and rosemary/thyme aromas took over.  The wine was sitting in the Canlis cellar for 7 years and just recently made it to the list.  It has developed into a classy wine that is supporting the benefits of age quite handsomely.

As good as these wines were and as much of the dining stage they attempted to steal, each component of the evening at Canlis came together from the moment we walked through the front door until our end of meal kitchen visit to witness a break through brew of the “most perfect” cup of coffee by a new $40,000 George Jetson-like counter-top appliance.  The last time I stepped into hallowed grounds and similarly concluded that an important structure’s historic essence had been seamlessly layered with world class upgrades was in the Bronx last month at the New Yankee stadium. Hold my table on the cliffs of Seattle because as sure as a triumphant October return visit to the new house that Ruth really didn’t build, I will be back soon for more from the next generation Canlis family and the Eleven Madison Park trained Franey.