R.D. : Recently Disgorged

Puro, originally uploaded by weltz8.

For some, the anxiety of opening a sparkling wine in the dining room is unmatched. This is not an irrational fear given the injuries caused by UFCs, or Unidentified Flying Corks. Imagine the old caves of Champagne akin to a mine rigged battle field, were one weak bottle set off an explosive chain reaction from its 8 atmospheres of concealed pressure. It is no mistake that old time remurs wore masks and body protection—even today accidents happen. With many factors to already consider, Ales Kristanic of Slovenia’s Movia Estate decided to pass off a new responsibility to the consumer—keeping the wine clear. His wines Puro and Puro Rosè are shipped un-disgorged. That’s right, wine drinkers seeking a little more excitement with their bubbly have the duty of removing the dead yeast cells. The quirky Mr. Kristancic claims his design is such “…that now a monkey, the stupidest monkey in the world, can open it!” Who is this man from Slovenia anyways?

The Kristancic family has been making wine since the 1820’s, which translates to eight generations of understanding their land. Movia Estate is located in Slovenia, just across the Friuli boarder of Italy. However, its vineyards traverse the political separation and sit on both sides, known as the Collio in Italy and Brdra in Slovenia. Autonomous boundaries aside, it is terroir that drives the wines from Movia. Typicity from the land is governed by strict biodynamic practices. In the winery, the mentality is also adhered to with atypical—albeit tried and tested—methods for handling familiar grapes in the cellar. White wines are matured in 600 liter Slovenian oak casks and some in 225 liter barriques. They age on their lies which can last up to two years. Red wines are treated much the same and see extended aging in small Slovenian barrels. Racking? Not at Movia. Fining and filtering? The barometric pressure and phases of the moon dictate these practices. Sulfur…what do you think?

Out of all the wines Mr. Kristancic elaborates, both Puro’s honor the subtleties of his eclectic personality and devotion to true varietal character. The day before drinking, the bottle should be stored up-side down (it comes with a mini stand), to encourage the yeast towards the cork. Then, it is imperative to bring the sparkler to temperature on ice. The practice is particularly pertinent for the Puro because it not only slows the release of carbon bubbles, but it freezes the collected yeast into a disc. When ready, remove the cage from and hold the bottle’s neck underwater. Twist it much the same as if it were right side up, and monitor the surging pressure. When the force shoots off the cork, quickly turn the bottle right side up while removing it from the water.

The wine chosen for this tasting was the Movia, Puro Rosè, “un-disgorged,” Brdra, Slovenia, 2000, which is made from 100% pinot nero. Even after the aggressive opening method, the perlage was un-yielding with a plentiful array of tight bubbles. Although it is labeled as rosè, the juice was distinctly copper in color. Nothing was aromatically challenged about this cuvee and notes of apple cider and buckwheat honey sang from the glass. On the palate, it tingled with acidity while expressing purer red delicious apple flavors. Given the wines recent dégorgement, there was a clean yeast and sour dough bread component. Instead of a lingering finish, the Puro parked itself on the back of the palate.

I would highly recommend any wines from the Movia Estate, and the Puro is a steal at $50 dollars. It will leave you scratching your head with delight—and that is the idea. Welcome to the world of Ales Kristancic: hold on tight.

The Elements of Terroir

Nicholas Joly and Peter Weltman (Me), originally uploaded by weltz8.

One look at Nicholas Joly’s business card and it is easy to see he is unlike any other vigneron in the world—who else has the job title Natures assistant. Given his devotion to biodynamic viticulture, it is understood why his self-imposed occupation is perfectly fitting. The specific details about biodynamics are found in Mr. Joly’s books, Wine from Sky to Earth, and Biodynamic Wine Demystified, in which he admits that he fell into this style of agriculture by accident. Make no mistake, he is committed to spreading his organic-meets-metaphysical methods by promoting vital life forces—Joly wants a drinker to feel the wine’s energy. The vintners who share his passion put their wines on display at the 5th Annual La renaissance des Appellations (Return to Terroir) tasting in New York City.

Joly’s famed estate is called Le Coulée de Serrant in Savenniéres, Maine-et-Loire, France. It sits on hallowed ground that was first planted by Cistercian Monks over 800 years ago. He was not always growing under the guiding biodynamic principles of the sun and stars but converted his entire estate to biodynamics by 1984. Previously, Joly used herbicides and pesticides to control his vineyards. However, his desire to change started after he noticed that nature began to vanish from his vineyards, leaving the soil dusty, dead, and the man yearning for what he lost.

At the conference, Virginie Joly, Nicholas’ daughter, was at the table pouring the three cuvées that they produce. True to style, the wines were not on ice, as Joly is a believer in serving his wines at around 14-15 degrees Celsius and if possible, decanted and left open for 12 to 24 hours. Let’s be reminded that we are talking about the chenin blanc grape. How could I know what to expect from the wines when Joly himself takes exactly what nature offers? The grapes are picked in a series of vineyard passes, as they only take the ripest bunches. This leads to different amounts of hang time, the potential of botrytis, and some raisining on the vine. Sometimes there is malolactic fermentation, other times not. He crafts wines with vintage character and is working towards creating not only “a good wine but also a true wine.”

The 2006 Coulée de Serrant, Savenniéres AOC, France, “Vieux Clos,” had an intensely spicy nose that followed through on the palate and tasted of mustard. There was also a distinct mineral presence that was carried by the highly acidic juice and rounded with a wild flower honey component. I found this wine to be coarse and obnoxious like an adorable screaming child— a descriptor that Joly himself would quite enjoy. Next was the 2005 Coulée de Serrant, Savienniéres Roche aux Moines AOC, France “Clos de la Bergerie” which traded the earth of the previous wine for riper fruit with a yeasty and sour apple cider flair, followed by an intense nuttiness on the back end of the palate. Joly credits this to harvesting later which causes the grapes’ forces to turn inwards and ultimately express the power of the seeds— welcome to the Joly school of thought. Finally, I sampled the coveted 2006 Savenniéres Coulée de Serrant AOC, Savenniéres, France “Clos de la Coulée de Serrant.” The wine had not been opened long but there were hints of white peach, oregano and heavy doses of crushed slate. The palate was firm and oily but quite clean as the acidic chenin blanc is so capable of. Light and aromatic acacia honey was omnipresent and there was refreshing spearmint as well. I would love to see this wine opened for multiple days and taste it through its extraordinary evolution.

There is so much to learn from Nicholas Joly and his crusade to bring wines back to the earth. I would, however, proceed with caution because biodynamics does not ultimately always taste better. The guiding principles are admirable but I found many wines showcasing an “empty terroir.” However, Joly’s fight is noble and he not only fully expresses his land, but he is able to humble wine to a deeper understanding of man’s place on this earth.

100 Yeras of Tel Aviv Event

Grapes Under Fire

P1010159, originally uploaded by weltz8.

One of the most unstable areas of the world is where the deepest historical roots of the grape vine can be found. The area called Cannan in the Bible covers many modern-day Middle Eastern Countries. Here exists the Bekaa Valley which is located in southern Lebanon just north of Beirut and is where Phoenician people planted vines over 6,000 years ago. Because they valued the wine with such esteem, the neighboring Egyptians wanted to honor this prized viticulture area and constructed the largest temple devoted to Bacchus.

The grand oenephile sanctuary is near the vineyards of Chateau Musar, which, at 3,000 feet above sea level, makes heavenly wine. The fabled elements of this ancient land cannot be ignored, but it is this producer’s place in the recent history that makes an inspirational mark. Gaston Hochar obtained the property in 1930 and started to seriously elaborate wines after the Second World War. Eventually, his Bordeaux-trained son, Serge Hochar, put his enology degree in practice to create “an aroma like the great wines of Lebanese history.” Upon his father’s early death, the winery was his to run at age 35.

A civil war erupted in 1975 and many civilians fled the war-torn area. Committed to producing his masterpiece, Hochar helped his family escape but insisted on staying himself. He braved mine rigged roads, army blockades and gunfire to complete his harvests—sometimes under the brilliant light of bombs in the night sky. Similar conditions persisted in the early 1990’s, but Chateau Musar could not be deterred.

What Serge Hochar’s years of perseverance yielded was a gutsy cuvée of mostly cabernet sauvignon, cinsault and carignan, with mourvèdre and Grenache occasionally thrown in as well. Hochar believes that his wines need time; they go from concrete to vat, then spend a year in French oak, all before going back to vat for several years. I tasted the Chateau Musar, Bekaa Valley, Lebanon, 1998. This vintage had a unique brick-red color with a flirty tinge of pink. The nose, however, was like a day on the farm eating stewed wild strawberries and rhubarb in the horse barn— get the whiff? There was also a distinct oxidasic quality that may scare away as many people as it attract. The palate offered more of the same notes with touches of warm spice. This was definitely a special wine given its terroir and extended ageing, I look for the 1998 to continue improving.

Although the bottles sat patiently underground in wine-cellars-turned-bomb-shelters during the Lebanese wars, they are true fighters and embody the spirit of the Hocar family. I suggest that all wine drinkers look to the chaos of the Middle East to find solace in Chateau Musar.

Bursting the Bubble

P1010122, originally uploaded by weltz8.

The name Champagne is so synonymous with sparkling wines that drinkers often mislabel every other bubbly with this title. Brilliant marketing has brought the region to prominence and it certainly has a noteworthy history. Dom Perignon, the Benedictine Monk and cellar master at Abbey of Hautvillers, has often been credited with creating the fizz, but a look across the English Channel may be in order. Recent findings suggest that in 1662, British Scientist Christopher Merrett invented Methodé Champenoise for his hard ciders - thirty years before Perignon. Equally as crucial, Merrett is credited with strengthening the bottle to withstand the atmospheric pressure created from carbon dioxide.

So what if Champagne borrowed the bottling method from the British? It is still the first sparkling wine in France, right? Not quite. The Languedoc region in southern France boasts an older demarcated area of pétillant wine. In 1531 at Abbey Saint-Hilaire, Benedictine Monks utilized cork stoppers from the nearby Catalan forests to plug their bottles - thus producing bubbles. The trick to achieving a highly acidic base wine was in the Mauzac grape, an old varietal known for its apple peal flavors.

Paying homage to this history, I chose the Domain de Martinolles, Blanquette de Limoux AOC, “Le Berceau,” Methode Traditionnelle, NV. Although there are other AOC sparkling wines in the region, this specific appellation requires 90% Mauzac with the remainder comprising of Chardonnay and Chenin Blanc. Few would confuse its nose with Champagne for it lacks obvious yeast and buttery notes; instead, it gives way to hints of green apples and dandelion flowers. On the palate, Mauzac sings some earthy Cava tunes and, despite its firmness, the high almost-cider-like acidity drives this absolutely dry wine. The mid-palate transition is almost absent and there is a touch of heat at the end.

History does not necessarily breed elegance and so is the case for the rustic Blanquette de Limoux. It does not try to fit into the slim dress and high heels of Champagne but instead can use its coarseness to make an impression at a party. A retail price of $14.99 per bottle is a little high and I would have preferred to pay in the $10-12 range. Although I am not ready to trade in my Champagne, it is worth honoring history and having this great aperitif wine in your tasting arsenal.

Nervous to the Cour

P1010111, originally uploaded by weltz8.

Nervoux: Lively, firm, vigorous and is France’s best kept term for describing striking acidity in wine—literally nervous. Romorantin is an ancient grape varietal that is found in the obscure appellation of Cour-Cheverny in the Loire Valley and deserves such a descriptor. This grape fell into favor during the 16th Century with King Louis I after he brought the vines back from Burgundy. The area was demarcated in 1993 after A.O.C. Cheverny (1991), which was named for the local commune just south of Blois, Loir-et-Cher. Cour-Cheverny wines are from the same area and instead of being a required blend, are made primarily from romorantin.

My tasting consisted of the Francois Cervin, Le Petit Chambord, Cour-Cheverny, Loire Valley, France, 2007, made exclusively from the ancient varietal. Just when the wine slid off my tongue, it remerged with, crude, cheek-quenching sour apples, minerals and a touch of nuttiness. Think of the cold New York winters when the air is stale from sheer chill and an oncoming car passes along. Just after the slight relief, cold air follows the pull of the car and plasters your face. Now that’s the nervoux of romorantin. The 2007 was slightly one dimensional and can be attributed to the tough vintage. I would look for a riper year, like 2002, to find a wine with more character.

Do not be fooled with this one personality because like chenin blanc, romorantin is another chameleon grape of the Loire. On a great year, the grape can produce a demi-sec expression and offer layers of honey and apricot that ride the strong and acidic backbone of the wine. Look for the Francois Cervin, Le Petit Chambord, Cour-Cheverny, Loire Valley, France, “Renaissance Cuvee,” 2002 and remember that second impressions have their benefits.