Wine East Features
Sunny Wines, Cloudy Wines
I am a strong advocate of calibrating the palate in order to gain a sense of relative quality and value not only for one’s own wines, but also the progress of our emerging Eastern North American wine regions. In Pennsylvania, with its diversity of climates and, if you wish, terroir, the comparisons can come from around the globe.
In the warmer and wetter southeast quadrant of the state, it is easy to see similarities to Bordeaux and Tuscany. In the Endless Mountains and even the higher elevations in the Lehigh Valley, the aromatic white wines are reminiscent of Burgundy, the Rhine and Danube. The point is, there are benchmarks with which to compare our wines, most often in Europe, where it also rains during the growing season. No matter what kind of wine you make or drink, it’s good to have a sense of what the best practitioners are doing in your field.
In 2010 I attended the Wine Spectator Grand Tour wine tasting event in New York City. Wineries from around the world came to pour their wines, and many notable names were present. It was an ideal opportunity to calibrate my palate to what others consider the benchmarks in our profession. Among the 200 wineries in attendance were four of the five Bordeaux first growths, as well as many great second and third growths. There were Napa Cabernets, greats from Barolo, Tuscany and many other regions.
It was my goal to taste wines that could be compared to what we are growing in Pennsylvania and around the Mid-Atlantic region in order to get a general impression of how our wines compare to theirs.
I was glad to have the opportunity to compare and contrast directly, at a single event, wines from vastly different terroir. The easy and stark comparison is the difference between, for example, the Left Bank first growths and the Napa Cabernet crowd. I can only describe it as the difference between wines that display a lot of sun versus those grown in less sunny conditions. The Napa Cabs were big, fat, sweet, ripe, high in alcohol and overtly fruity. It is very easy to see why Napa wines are so likeable. They are approachable and easy on the palate.
French wines showed considerably more restraint, complexity, balance and, if you will, elegance and refinement. To say that one is better than the other is foolhardy; it all boils down to a personal preference, and the argument about who makes the “better” wine is exasperating and really misses the point. Other “sunny wines” included those from Washington state, Argentina, Australia and Chile, and it is easy to taste the common thread among them. “Cloudy wines” also came from regions like Piedmont and Tuscany.
This issue of sun and clouds is not well understood. I often wonder about the relative value and influence of quantities and quality of sunshine (direct or diffuse light) and temperature (maximum and diurnal) on fruit chemistry, quality and maturity. The clouds also imply more rain, and too much rain or cloudy weather at the wrong time can do irreparable damage to wine quality.
Clearly, sun and clouds yield strikingly different wines, and that is the strongest impression I got based on what I tasted. Of course there are hybrid versions of the sunny and cloudy wines, and areas such as Tuscany seem to linger in the middle. In any given vintage, the sun or clouds can pronounce their presence in the wines.
In the context of terroir, it makes sense to follow the advice of Christian Moueix of Chateau Petrus, who suggests that the cloudy folks try not to box out of their weight class, as the sunny wines will always overwhelm the cloudy wines in a one-on-one punch-fest. Instead, let us incorporate the sophisticated nuances of the best varieties suited to our terroir and make wines that reflect our soil and climate. It’s just not as easy for us in cloudy regions as it is for the sunny guys.
In the past decade, vintage variation has been dramatic in highlighting the challenges in vineyards and cellars in the eastern United States, where warm and dry conditions—as in 2007, 2008 and 2010—result in nice wines, while cool and wet years—2003, 2004 and 2009—yield, well, not such great wines. The secret that the French, Germans and Italians have figured out is how to make very good wines in very mediocre vintages. The complete bust of a vintage doesn’t happen in those countries anymore, because they use knowledge and technology to mitigate any curve balls that Mother Nature throws at them. Yes, the classic years separate themselves from the crowd, but they are still more the exception than the rule.
Given acceptable conditions, the same knowledge and technology is available to the winegrower in Pennsylvania as in the Left Bank, Barolo and the Mosel. The power of viticulture to determine the outcome of wine quality cannot be underestimated. Having a great vineyard site helps, but it is not the only ingredient for great wine. In a recent Wine Spectator article about Domaine de la Romanée-Conti, I was struck by a comment from co-owner Aubert de Villaine, who said that DRC really doesn’t do anything different from other Burgundian estates; its attention to detail sets it apart. Bernard Noblet, cellar master at Romanée-Conti, says he tries to “let nature speak in his wines.” Pinot Noir from great terroir is an unbeatable combination, and they understand how to make it work. There are many lessons here for us. Burgundy, by the way, is a cloudy place.
Twenty-five of the 27 wines I tasted in New York were red wines. In cloudy places, red wines are so fickle and challenging to get right. For us in this cloudy region, consistent quality in red wine production should be the qualitative test.
The two Rieslings I tasted from Austria and Germany showed me that our best cool-climate producers, extending up to the Finger Lakes and the Niagara Peninsula, are also well on their way to success. I would argue that cloudy places that excel in aromatic white wines should not waste their time chasing after red wines.
I urge all serious winegrowers to taste benchmark wines, local, regional, domestic and international. It’s enlightening and fun.
Mark L. Chien is statewide viticulture extension educator for the Penn State Cooperative Extension based in Lancaster, Penn.