February 4, 2004     Los Gatos, California Since 1881
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Simply DaVine
Tasting yearly harvests is best way to judge favorites
By Cara Finn

In the late fall of 2003 it was very difficult to reach local winemakers. When you did get one on the phone or see one in person, the winemaker was frantic and had purple hands. They disappeared for a few weeks, and when we saw them again, they hadn't slept in many days. The harvest was on and for most, the 2003 crop was picked and crushed in record time.

The harvest of wine grapes for Northern California was a lesson in hurry up, then wait, wait, wait, then hurry! Early in 2003 we had unseasonably warm weather, but April brought showers and everything cooled off considerably. It was as if we were waiting for spring to begin for months, then with a blast we had one killer of an Indian summer. The result for most California regions was nerve-racking to say the least.

It's often overlooked, with all the romanticism and glory of the wine business, that basically it's all about farming. Folks grow grapes, folks turn grapes into wine, folks buy wine. It isn't that easy, but it is that simple.

When weather is on your side and growing conditions are perfect, it's really difficult with modern technology to make bad wine. However, weather isn't always on your side, and seldom does Mother Nature give us perfect growing conditions. That's why winemaking remains as much a mystery as a science to me. Anyone can turn fruit into alcohol; but it takes an artist to turn it into fine wine.

Many of us who call ourselves Wine Lovers remember the 1997 vintage in Northern California as one of the finest in more than a decade. People are still trying to collect those glorious '97 Napa cabernets and I'm often asked about how long they will cellar. We "ohh'd" and "ahh'd" over the voluptuous fruit and bold tannins that were the hallmark of that vintage. Wine Critics went on a field day, pronouncing the glories of 1997. Still, the common remark among winemakers regarding that vintage was "if you couldn't make great wine in 1997, get out of the business."

By contrast, the 1998 growing year was challenging. That year, it took expert winemaking skills to make great wine. And many did, but the Wine Critics declared 1998 as a Northern California disaster, and it has taken the wine business years to recover. Even today, many collectors will not buy a 1998 California cabernet regardless of how good it is. For retail and restaurants, the 1998 vintage became unsalable.

The popular Wine Critics are not likely to make the same mistake again and have (hopefully) learned a lesson in diplomacy. The unusual 1997 vintage on the upside was followed by the unusual 1998 vintage on the downside, and since then we have had several years of somewhat challenging harvests.

What this means for the consumer is that California wines show more fluctuation in consistency now than they did in the early to mid-1990s. This fluctuation in flavor, body and balance is generally embraced as something good; wine is a product of a harvest's uniqueness. It is supposed to taste different from year to year.

Recently, I attended a 6-year vertical tasting of the zinfandels of Teldeschi Vineyards of Dry Creek (Sonoma County). From the 1992 to the 1997, each wine had uniqueness. There was enough consistency between the years so that you could recognize the style, but enough difference that you recognized the vintage variations. It was not surprising that the guests of the tasting were split several ways on which wine was the favorite. This consistency in style with celebration of difference is the hallmark of great winemaking. Without consistent style, a winemaker can lose a hard-earned brand following, but without the celebration of difference, a winemaker is making the same wine year in and year out. Where's the artistry in that?

The 2003 harvest was saved by a hot October and fast-acting vineyard managers who knew when to pick. The result will be some fabulous wines, some great wines, some good wines and some dogs. To the rest of the wine regions of the world, this is how life has been for centuries, but to California it represents a new wave.

Vintage variation means the consumer must do more homework when heading off to buy wine, or one needs to shop at a place where this homework is done for you. Either way, it is no longer sufficient to rely solely on the fact that a wine comes from a certain region of California, nor is it sufficient to rely exclusively on price. More than ever before, the vintage matters.

It's no small wonder, then, that most fine-wine stores now offer tastings on a routine basis. The best way to discover whether or not you agree with the critics regarding a certain winery or vintage is to taste and see for yourself. Wine-tasting bars offer the consumer that opportunity for low-to-no cost. So if you're like me, it's easier to taste and decide than it is to research and decide, plus it is a whole lot more fun.

Cara Finn is the owner of The Grapevine, a fine wine and cheese store and tasting bar. She can be reached at 408.293.7574 or at info@grapevine-wg.com.

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