Category: Experiences

There are many ways to become acquainted with the wines of any particular nation that contains a section of Wine Country.  Some countries are so large that it is meaningless to talk in any specific way about, say, American wine or French wine or Italian wine.  These nations produce so much wine and distribute it so widely that we are more likely to sip specific regions such as Napa or Bordeaux or Tuscany, with many subdivisions within them.

Then there are countries that are so small that almost all their wine production is consumed at home.  For example, Power Tasting recently featured wine tasting in Croatia, a country that clearly fits that model.  It isn’t that they make bad wines; in fact there are many excellent ones.  It’s just that their grapes and their wineries are too poorly known to justify international distribution.

There is a small group of countries in the middle, with a long history of winemaking and the quantity and quality to send their wines overseas.  Some have gained renown in recent years, including Australia, New Zealand and South Africa.  Others have just begun to garner some attention.  Austrian wines are among these. 

There are many Central European countries that make wine.  Sadly, many of these fell under Soviet domination after World War II and found their native vines torn out and their winemaking facilities converted to Russian tastes.   Austria adopted neutrality then and were spared.  Still, Austria is only 32,000 square miles, with much consisting of mountains, and its population is only 9 million.  Still, their wines are catching on in the US.

Photo courtesy of Vivino US.

In our experience, Austrian wines were essentially unknown in the United States until a craze for Grüner Veltliner began around the turn of the millennium.  And why not?  Here was a white wine that wasn’t quite like anything else most people had tasted.  Maybe just as important, it was everything California Chardonnay wasn’t.  It was light, refreshing, unoaked, not very expensive and went well with almost everything except a rare steak.  We Americans couldn’t quite pronounce it, but we liked it.  (It’s more like greener velt-leaner than grooner felt-liner, as many of us said it.)

With that initial experience, many Americans, ourselves included, sought opportunities to try other Austrian wines, particularly the reds.  We are fortunate that there is an excellent Austrian restaurant, Wallse, in our neighborhood, with an extensive wine list.  [There is more in this issue about wine tasting in restaurants.]  Our first try was Zweigelt, which some people describe as a lighter red but we’ve always found quite dense.  The wine is named for a Dr. Felix Zweigelt, who created the grape by cross-breeding two other varietals.

Those two varietals were Blaufränkisch and Sankt Laurent.  The former grape translates to French Blue, but it doesn’t seem to have any French derivation.  It makes rich, tannic wines, often vinified in a style evocative of Northern Rhônes.  It quickly became our favorite Austrian wine, perhaps because it complements wiener schnitzel so well.  We recently got around to trying Sankt Laurent and find it very much like Pinot Noir.  We’ve read that DNA studies confirm that parentage.

It’s fun to discover a whole new world of taste sensations, and having a source of so many fine examples of Austrian wine just up the street makes it even more enjoyable for us.

We are not original in noting that there’s a first time for everything.  In past issues, we’ve recounted our first times wine tasting in Napa Valley and other sectors of Wine Country.  Since those early days in our wine tasting career, we’ve been to many other winemaking regions and there is a commonality among visits to all of them.

Vines in Australia’s Barossa Valley.  Photo courtesy of Cluster Crush.

There is always an emotional thrill knowing that we’re about to embark on an adventure.  We know our way around Long Island’s North Fork, for instance.  We know what the wines are like and where the grapes are grown.  So when we set off for France, Italy, Australia or South Africa – or certain areas in the US as well – we know that we’re going to be seeing sights we haven’t seen and taste wines that we may never have heard of.

That can be a little scary, too.  How do we get to and around these parts of Wine Country, some of which are not as well mapped as, say, Sonoma County?  Which are the wineries not to miss (and which should be skipped)?  Are we going to get lost?  These fears can be overcome with some research and a guide.  But no matter how much can be gleaned on-line, the internet doesn’t know our tastes.  And if we’re going to be sipping wines made from unheard-of grapes like Corvina, Pinotage or Fer Servadou we have no idea what we’re going to get.  As for guides, we’re always worried that they’re in the pay of certain wineries, not necessarily the best ones.

In a way, every wine tasting trip is a first one.  Even if we’ve been to the wineries in a region multiple times, we haven’t tasted that year’s wines nor do they always have the same wines on the menu. 

The only sensible way to approach each visit is with an open mind and taste buds.  We’ve had the experience of being disappointed at a winery that we had previously enjoyed, but we’ve also been delighted to find that a label we hadn’t cared for in our local wine shop also makes some fabulous wines that they keep for their tasting room.

That sense of discovery is the rationale for wine tasting.  After all, we don’t have to spend the money on transportation and hotels.  We could take a virtual tour down the aisles of a store, buying and trying as our fancy strikes us.  Heck, we do that anyway.  But we don’t get to see the vines, appreciate the architecture, smell the country air and, most important, meet the people behind the bottles.

So when we set out for a trip, especially one overseas, we know we’re going to encounter people, places and foods that we haven’t experienced before.  As first-timers, we expect to learn a great deal.  The people of those places are generally friendly and eager to spotlight not only their own wines but those of the region. 

Once in Valpolicella we were offered a tasting by a winemaker who spoke no English.  Our Italian was very limited.  But the signore was able to say AMARONE and RIPASSO at the top of his lungs, so we got the point.  It’s little stories like that that make first-time adventures in Wine Country worthwhile.

The sight of internationally famous vineyards in the course of wine tasting travels can evoke some contradictory responses.  The most obvious is the sense of understanding that that’s where some really great wine comes from.  But the other is that, “Oh well, it looks like every other vineyard, so what’s the big deal?”  To us, it’s not so much about seeing the famous vines; it comes when we open a bottle from one of those vineyards and can picture the exact location.

Some of these vineyards are right next to the building – let’s call it a château – where the wine is made.  Bordeaux law, for example, requires the vines and the winery to be in close contact.  In many other parts of the world, the vineyards are free-standing.  We have been fortunate enough to have seen many of these unique properties.

Sanford & Benedict vineyard.  Photo courtesy of Sanford Winery.

Since this issue is focused on Santa Rita Hills, there are two vineyards that have enormous reputations.  Sanford & Benedict is the flagship vineyard of the Sanford Winery and we suppose they keep the best grapes for themselves.  But there are many other labels that boast wines from that vineyard, including Fess Parker, Au Bon Climat and even Gary Farrell from way up north in Sonoma County. 

The other renowned Santa Rita Hills vineyard is Fiddlestix, which is virtually across the road from Sanford & Benedict.  There is no Fiddlestix winery, but the grapes are widely sold.  We’re most familiar with Etude’s wine from there.  And speaking of Etude, their Heirloom vineyards are pretty special, too.

To Kalon Vineyard, with the Robert Mondavi winery at the rear.  Photo courtesy of the winery.

The most famous Napa Valley vineyard is undoubtedly To Kalon.  Although there is a To Kalon Vineyard Company, the vast majority of this vineyard’s production is owned by Constellation Brands, which in turn owns Robert Mondavi.  Mondavi’s To Kalon Reserve helped establish Napa Valley as capable of making world-class wines.

The most famous European vineyards are in Burgundy.  Due to the history and laws of this region, almost all vineyards are split among numerous growers, with individuals sometimes limited to a single row in a single vineyard.  So, for example, the Clos de Vougeot in Burgundy (of which we have written before), is shared by many wineries including Jadot, Faiveley, Drouhin and many other smaller producers.  They can all claim to have a Clos Vougeot wine, which by itself is a mark of quality.

Two other Burgundy vineyards stand out.  Power Tasting has written about Corton-Charlemagne before.  Supposedly, Charlemagne owned it back when.  Today, it’s the only vineyard in the Côte d’Or that produces both red and white grand cru wines.  And we can’t forget the Puligny-Montrachet vineyards.  One right next to the other, there’s Montrachet itself, and Chevalier-Montrachet and Bâtard-Montrachet, plus several others.  Connoisseurs differ as to which is the greatest.  We’re not connoisseurs but we have walked in those vineyards.

We recently attended a trade show for the wine industry, which happened to be dominated by wines from France.  Among them was a kiosk for Beaumes de Venise, which is a small, centrally located village in the Southern Rhône region.  Tasting the wines from there brought back quite a few memories.

Beaumes de Venise a nice village but no more so than its neighboring villages, Vacqueyras and Gigondas.  Red wines are made there, good ones but again no better than others made nearby.  What distinguishes Beaumes de Venise is the luscious honey-flavored wine made there from the Muscat grape (or to be more specific, the Muscat de Frontignan). 

[A few words on the name of the village.  Literally, it means “Balm of Venice”, but there is nothing about either balm or Venice in the origin of the name.  Beaumes comes from the Provençal word for caves, “baumo” plus the name of the county, many centuries ago, “Venaissin”.  The caves of Venaissin became the “Balm of Venice” over the years.]

For many years, American wine lists were rather sparse when it came to dessert wines, and they still are.  One that was featured the most frequently back then was the rather light but fruity Muscat from Domaine de Durban.  So the first time we visited Beaumes de Venise we made a point of visiting that winery.  It’s a drive from the center of the village, up a narrow, windy road to the top of what seemed like a mountain to us.  After all that, we discovered that, like all French enterprises, Durban was closed for a two-hour lunch.  We never did get to taste their wine on the premises.

The Domaine des Bernardins.  Photo courtesy of Ventoux Provence.

Some years later, we were vacationing in Provence and we had a fancy dinner in the especially charming town of St. Remy.  We ordered foie gras as a starter and asked the waiter for the usual accompaniment, glasses of Sauternes.  As only a French waiter could, he told us “Non!”.  Startled, we asked why not.  He told us that in this region of France the wine of choice with foie gras was Beaumes de Venise and recommended one in particular, Domaine des Bernardins.  (He did say that if we were dissatisfied he’d find us a glass of Sauternes.) 

Not only were we satisfied, we were blown away.  We loved it so much that we drove to Beaumes de Venise the next morning, located the winery and bought a case to be shipped home.   

Our Provençal friends drink Beaumes de Venise as an aperitif which is rather enjoyable sipping it under a chestnul tree or in front of the fireplace.   “Un petit Beaumes” as our friend Catherine would say.  Of course, you can drink it with (or as) dessert, too.

A word to the uninitiated.  Domaine des Bernardins, like many dessert wines, has a lovely golden color and is fresh with good acidity when it is young.  Over time, it turns brown and has a more profound flavor.  Keep it too long (a decade or so) and it just deteriorates.

The Dentelles de Montmirail.  Photo courtesy of Provence Guide.

One feature of Beaumes de Venise that you cannot fail to see if you visit the village: the Dentelles de Montmirail hover over the vineyards.  These are a row of jagged rock mountains that form a wall to the east of the Rhône valley.  They reflect the afternoon sun and give the grapes below an extra dose of warmth.  This is especially useful for grapes with a high sugar content, such as Muscat. 

They have been making sweet wines here for millennia, and if climate change doesn’t mess up everything, they will continue to do so for centuries to come.

There’s something wonderful about tasting wine in sight of the vineyards where the grapes were grown.  But it can also be a lot of fun to visit tasting rooms in a city or town, near the countryside.  No city that we have ever visited has more opportunities for urban wine tasting than Santa Barbara.  The official count is 25 tasting rooms, primarily in three districts.

Power Tasting has reviewed several wineries’ tasting rooms in Santa Barbara in the past.  The fact is that what we wrote previously has in some instances become inaccurate.  There are new wineries represented, existing ones have disappeared and others have relocated, creating new wine tasting experiences. 

The courtyard of El Paseo, with the Grassini Family Vineyards tasting room under the flags.  There are four other tasting rooms scattered around the courtyard.

To the best of our knowledge, there are no vineyards within the city limits of Santa Barbara.  But there are many of them in Santa Barbara County, with a good cross-section represented in town.  Moreover, there are other winemaking regions within the southern end of California’s Central Coast, including Santa Ynez and Santa Maria Counties, available for tasting in Santa Barbara.  (There are a lot of saints in California.)  Wines from all those regions can be tasted in the city’s tasting rooms.

We used to associate Santa Barbara with Burgundy-style wines, i.e., Pinot Noir and Chardonnay.  While this is still true, the broad Southern California region has many microclimates and terroirs that support Bordeaux and Rhône-style grapes as well.  This makes a wine tasting visit to Santa Barbara a more varied experience than in the past.

There are three districts within the city where the tasting rooms are concentrated and each presents its own personality.  Uptown, where the better stores line State Street, there are ten of them.  The Sanford Winery has moved out and now offers tastings at their vineyards.  It has been replaced by a husband-and-wife team of Barbieri and Kempe, each with their own tasting lists in the former Sanford facility, located in a classy shopping mall.  There are five tasting rooms in a passage called El Paseo, the best-known of which is Au Bon Climat, where you can get your Pinot Noir/Chardonnay kicks.  Finally, Kunin Wines, which used to be in the Funk Zone is now on the outskirts of the uptown tasting area.

Easy tasting at Paradise Springs Winery, in the Funk Zone.

In the so-called Funk Zone, the ten tasting rooms are not as classy (with some notable exceptions, like Margerum, which is reviewed in this issue).  That is not to say that the wines available to taste are inferior; we were quite impressed with some of them.  If you do go there, try to do so between Monday and Thursday, if your intent is some serious wine tasting.  On the other hand, if you want to party hard, the weekend is for you.

Finally, on Santa Barbara’s east side, an area of light industry, there are five tasting rooms.  They’re rather spread out, so going by car from one to the other is called for.  To our surprise, there was some quite creditable wine being pressed and aged there, for instance at Jaffurs Wine Cellars.  Wine tasting in this sector is a different experience than we have ever had elsewhere.  Wine is wine; you just need to be prepared for the factory atmosphere you’ll find there.  We weren’t, but will be the next time.

This little wine tasting adventure occurred many years ago, but still seems like a fresh memory.  We were travelling with some other people in Tuscany and had found an 18^th century palace that was available to rent.  There were only three of us, taking two rooms and we had the palazzo to ourselves.  It came with some lovely gardens and meals outdoors under a canopy.

There came a day on the trip when everyone had had enough of taking in the sights.  A lazy afternoon in the garden, with the sound of buzzing bees under the shade trees sounded just the perfect.  So after lunch, two of us indulged in a siesta.  But the other soon grew antsy and wanted to do something.  A little wine tasting at a vineyard we had passed the day before sounded very inviting.

San Gimignano in the distance, with vineyards all around it.  Photo courtesy of Artsy Traveler.

We had driven to nearby San Gimignano, the towered village between Florence and Siena.  We had passed a sign for a Bolla vineyard and made a mental note to return.  [This all happened long enough ago that San Gimignano was still a worthwhile tourist destination.  It hadn’t been discovered yet.  Today it is a medieval village that is overrun with tourists arriving by the busload and is better passed by than visited.] 

So the fellow who wasn’t interested in a nap took the car keys and set out to see if he could find that sign again. He did, but on arrival saw that the place was not a winery but rather for a family owned vineyard that the well-known Bolla corporation had hired to make a specific wine.  He drove in and found endless fields of grapes and in the middle of them all, a farmhouse.  There was no one to be seen in the vineyards or outside the house, so he wandered about a while, noticing that the vines were bearing fruit, all of which was white grapes. 

Wanting a taste of the wine that he knew must be made there, he figured his only chance was to knock on the farmhouse door.  It was opened by a woman who seemed rather confused as to why a stranger had appeared at her doorstep.  As she spoke no English and our friend little to no Italian, an explanation was not readily forthcoming.  But he had learned the work degustazione, roughly translatable as “tasting”.  Still seeming puzzled the woman, using a few Italian words and more hand signs, asked, “You want some wine?”  The fellow said, “Si, si”, so the woman led him into the kitchen.  There he found a few vineyard workers sitting at a table just finishing up lunch, looking at him rather quizzically.

She opened her refrigerator and took out an opened bottle of the Bolla wine made from their grapes, from a previous vintage.  Realizing he had intruded, the visitor drank up and figured he had to buy a bottle.  She reopened the fridge, took out an unopened bottle and handed it to him.  He took 10,000 lire (this was before the Euro) from his wallet, gave it to the woman and beat a hasty, somewhat embarrassed retreat.

Imagine how you would feel if some total stranger came to your door and haltingly requested a glass of wine.  You too might give it to him, just because you were so shocked that anyone would be so gauche and impertinent to even ask for it.

There is a sad, empty feeling that we get when a favorite bar, restaurant or shop changes hands and the new ownership changes it into something else.  Our favorite local tavern was once the best place for an honest burger and a beer; now it tries to attract a hipper crowd.  There’s a line of twenty-somethings waiting to get in to order designer beers and avocado toast.  And an old-fashioned family grocery store that featured locally made products was bought by a French couple that made it an outlet for French imports.  It went out of business.  Ah, well.

The same thing happens to wineries and in-town tasting rooms.  In a previous issue, we wrote about “lost wineries” that simply closed to visitors or were sold out.  There are a number of others in Sonoma County that we remember fondly.

Francis Ford Coppola Winery.  Photo courtesy of Tripsavvy.

Chateau Souverain has had a Sonoma County presence for more than 80 years.  We weren’t around for its early days, when the legendary Mike Grgich (sadly, recently deceased) was given his first American job.  But we did visit their second home in Alexander Valley.  It was quiet, a bit out of the way and rustic in appearance.  In 2006, the location was bought by Francis Ford Coppola who turned it into a swimming pool with wine (and Coppola tributes).  Yes, Chateau Souverain can still be bought.  They in turn took over an existing winery and are now not open for visitors there.

There is a tasting room on the northeast corner of the Healdsburg Town Square that is today the tasting room of Ernest Vineyards.  It was previously the place to taste DeLoach wines, principally their Pinot Noirs as we remember it, when they were acquired by the Boisset family from France.  It was more convenient to taste there than in the western part of the Russian River valley, where they still operate.  Before that, the space was occupied by Gallo Sonoma, when the well-known mass producer made a foray into fine wines. There may have been some intermediary tenants there, but these are the ones we can recall.

Chateau St. Jean

It’s not all sad stories of demise.  Sometimes new owners inject money to improve a vineyard’s wines without changing their overall style nor the experience of visiting.  For example, Chateau St. Jean was long a favorite of ours in Sonoma Valley.  Treasury Wine Cellars took it over and then in 2021 it was sold to Foley Family Wines.  As far as we can tell, the quality of the wines has remained consistent.  More important for Power Tasting, which is about the experience of wine tasting, the architecture, gardens, palm trees and statuary have all been preserved.

Elsewhere in this issue you can read about the former Pezzi King vineyards that have been replaced by Passalacqua Winery.  In the old days, if you wanted to try a heavy, highly alcoholic Zinfandel, Pezzi King was the place for you. Thankfully, the wines are very different now. 

The Wall Street Journal has long had a feature they call “Open That Bottle Night”.  The premise is that many people have a few bottles that they’re saving for a special occasion.  But the occasion never seems to come and so the wines linger until they’re no longer so special.  The Journal advises that we all should open and savor one of those bottles at least once a year.

Photo courtesy of Marketview Liquor.

We do in fact have a certain number of bottles that get extra care and, yes, we do open them on some special occasions – birthdays, anniversaries – and some not so special, like that first barbecued steak of the season.  But then there are some reasons for wines that are important for someone else.  These might include welcoming a new addition to the family, reciprocating a friend’s wine generosity or celebrating some relatives’ fiftieth wedding anniversary.

We have confronted that situation over the years and have taken a few different approaches.

The easiest is simply to look through our collection and choose one of those wines to share with others.  That works well if we’ll be drinking it at our house, where we can control the handling of the wine from cellar to table.  But if we’re going to someone else’s place, all the care that has been given to a bottle over the years is likely to be for naught.  The sediment will be shaken, the temperature will be unpredictable and so the wine really shouldn’t be drunk that night.

So off to the wine shop we go.  But what to look for?  First, we really need to understand the tastes of the intended recipient, the nature of the occasion and possibly the menu.  There’s no sense bringing a California power hitter if the people we’ll share the wine with favor delicate Burgundies.  The intent is not to say, “Here’s something we like” but rather to show that we have an appreciation for what they like.

Another approach is to avoid table wines altogether.  How about a Champagne, say, or a Port?  The problem with giving Champagne these days is that there seems to be no middle ground.  Any given Champagne maison will have a base-level bottle that’s not quite special enough and a top-end premium bottling that may be beyond a reasonable price range.  For example, the wine shop we usually patronize has Pommery’s Brut Royale for $55 and their Cuvée Louise at $220.  Just how special is that special occasion?

Port has some of the same problems as a red table wine.  First, vintage Port that’s ready to drink (20 years old or more) can be very pricey.  And even more than aged red wines, Port throws a lot of sediment, making it difficult to consume at the time it is offered.  Sauternes might be a good alternative, but these dessert wines don’t have the same cachet as Port does.

In the end, the wine version of the Golden Rule (“Give what you would like to receive”) applies, combined with some serious consideration for what we know of the recipient’s tastes.  The secret is to say, “We hope you enjoy this wine.  You don’t have to serve it tonight.”  If that means we don’t get to share it with them, there will be other occasions and other wines.

Over the course of years, we have been members of at least 20 wine clubs (not all at the same time).  These clubs are effectively an agreement for the members to buy a case of wine each year from each sponsoring winery.  In return for that commitment, you get a discount, normally 20%, and free tastings when you are at the winery.  In addition, in many clubs there are events that members may attend, almost all of which entail plentiful servings of their wines.  If you like the wines a particular winery makes, joining the club makes good sense.

Loading the truck.  Photo courtesy of August Hill Winery.

However, when you join you quickly learn that there are matters that require management on your part, eating up time and detracting from the pleasure of having fine wines delivered to your home.

• You like some of the wines, but not all. Some clubs allow you a degree of specificity, such as only red wines or only certain varietals.  But many have a policy of sending you what they want to send (that you must pay for).  If customization is permitted, that means that when you receive the notification of an upcoming shipment, you need to make decisions about which ones you want and don’t want, replacing them with other wines and communicating these choices to the club’s designated contact (often nowadays the “ambassador”.  Thus are wine snobs made).
• You won’t be home for a delivery. If you know at the time of ordering that you will be traveling, you can notify the club contact.  Most are accommodating to your schedule.  When you get a notice that a shipment is on the way, you usually get the tracking number from the shipping company so you can track your order.  But then you (or someone) must arrange to be at home to receive the wines, which usually means the whole day.
• You want to speak with someone at the club. Some wine clubs, alas not the majority, are eager to engage in person with their members.  They’re available by phone, they reply to emails and know more about wine than order numbers and ship dates.  In all too many instances, so we’ve found, the contacts disappear between shipments.  It’s just frustrating and this type of difficulty has sometimes been the reason we’ve quit certain clubs.
• You’ve become tired of their wines. With a few exceptions, we resign from our clubs after two or three years.  No matter how much you liked the wines at the beginning of your membership, you may not like what they send you at the rate of a case a year.  Especially if you’ve been buying age-worthy wines, they begin to accumulate in your cellar.  The expense of club membership may deter you from drinking other wines you know and like.  Yes, you can quit, but that means remembering to put it in writing and checking that your resignation didn’t get lost somewhere in the winery’s back office.

All this may make it sound like wine clubs aren’t worth the effort.  With membership in five or six at a time, we are definitely advocates of joining clubs at wineries you love.  Just remember that there’s work on your end, too.

Power Tasting has written before about the perils of wine snobbery.  It’s an affront to politeness and often to the people in front of whom the snob is showing off.  But conversing about wines with friends and acquaintances who are knowledgeable about wine is a pleasure that should not be avoided either.  In fact, with a certain circle of our friends, we know that every get-together is going to include discussions about wine.

Photo courtesy of Skurnick Wines & Spirits.

No one is trying to one-up the other.  Still, we can drop phrases like “a high degree of malo*” into conversation and know that we will be understood.  It is fascinating to sit around a dinner table and hear others expressing their opinions about aromas and tastes, some of which each person agrees with and others that lead to statements like, “Are you sure we’re drinking the same wine?”  We trust our own senses and have faith in those of our friends, so such a discussion is informative, not confrontational.

There are particular lessons to be learned when one person is particularly familiar with a specific wine or wines from lesser known grapes or regions.  We, for instance, can speak knowledgeably about Quebecois dessert wines, since we spend a fair amount of time in the Quebec  province.  And if someone else can compare them with, say, ice wines from Ontario or Germany, so much the better.

A few problems can arise when the conversation drifts towards wines.  If everyone in the room has a roughly equivalent degree of knowledge, that’s okay.  But it does risk slipping into rather boring discussions after a while.  This is even more the case if not everyone is at the same level or, even worse, some don’t really care about wine at all.  By comparison, imagine being in a room full of Yankee fans and not only you don’t root for the Bombers, but you don’t know left field from first base.  The line between knowledge and snobbery is a fine one and might differ depending on the observer.

The way to make a wine conversation more amenable for everyone is to avoid specialist terminology and talk about one’s own impressions.  Many people are in the dark when someone says that a wine evokes, say, warm buttered toast.  But when those same people are offered two wines from the same grape and asked to dig down a bit to differentiate them, their taste buds go to work.

If, for example, they are offered a California Chardonnay and a Chablis, they may be astonished to find out that they’re made from the same grape.  When asked what makes one smell and taste different from the other, they may bring up words like butter, apples and oak.  This puts everyone on the same plane.  We’ve known beginners who have tasted something subtle that the experienced wine people, attuned to what is supposed to be in a type of wine, have overlooked.

* It means that the wine has undergone a lengthy second malolactic fermentation, which turns rather austere malic acid to buttery lactic acid.