Premox (premature oxidation) in white Burgundy: could modernity be the culprit?

Earlier this month, I had the immense fortune to attend a seminar with Jean-Marc Roulot of Domaine Roulot, legendary producer of Mersault. The event was part of the 2019 Boulder Burgundy Festival (I’ve been the gathering’s blogger for the last six years).

Everyone in attendance at the standing-room-only tasting was rapt with Jean-Marc’s earnestness and transparency in talking about his wines, including the challenges he’s faced in his 30 years at the winery.

But most impressive was his forthrightness when the sticky subject of premature oxidation — “premox” as it’s known in trade parlance — was raised. After all, many of the attendees were top Burgundy collectors who have been deeply disappointed with the cellaring potential of their investment.

“I have discovered that a large number of bottles of white Burgundies from the ’90s suffer from a phenomenon known as premature oxidation,” wrote leading sommelier and author Raj Parr in a dire “Warning on White Burgundies” in 2007 (Wine Spectator). “Simply put, these wines show various stages of advanced oxidation, and this state is not what would normally be expected given their relatively young age.”

(See also this in-depth essay published by World of Fine Wine in 2014.)

Although many believe that a high-quality cork shortage (owed to high demand) might be the culprit, no one really knows what has caused premature oxidation in white Burgundy.

Jean-Marc attributes the trend, he said, to a combination of factors, including, possibly, the scarcity of good cork.

But he believes, he said, that the problem is due to a new wave of consulting enologists in the 1990s who encouraged winemakers to press and vinify the wines too swiftly. The focus was on maintaining the freshness and aromatic character of the wines in a decade when fruit was arriving in the cellar riper than in previous years thanks to climate change (we know now).

After some of his wines suffered from premox, he told the tasters, he decided to reserve roughly 10 percent of his grape must and let it oxidize slightly before vinifying. He’s found, he said, that by letting some of the must gently oxidize, premature oxidation of the wines seems to have been avoided.

In a sense, it’s possible that it was modernity itself to blame. Coming away from the tasting and talk, I couldn’t help but think to myself, it wasn’t broke until they tried to fix it.

Jean-Marc’s wines are extraordinary, although expensive and extremely hard to find in North America. I’d only ever had the opportunity to enjoy them in France, in the occasional overlooked bistro, when my band was touring there. Many consider him one of the greatest producers of white wine in the world today. And many American winemakers try to emulate his style by using what has come to be known as the “Roulot Method” (although he claimed adamantly not to have invented it). What a great experience to get to taste with him! Drink his wines if you can!

Taste cru Barbera d’Asti, Barolo, and Barbaresco from Scarpa tomorrow night with me in Houston

Riikka Sukula (above) and I will be pouring the following wines from Scarpa tomorrow night at Vinology in Houston starting at 7 p.m.:

Monferrato Freisa Secco La Selva di Moirano 2006
Nebbiolo d’Alba Bric du Nota 2016
Barbaresco Tettineive 2015
Barolo Tettimora 2013
Barbera d’Asti La Bogliona 2008

Everyone is welcome but please send me a note (email below) so that I can get an exact head count.

This is going to be a super fun tasting. Looking forward to sharing these amazing wines with you!

@ Vinology
Thursday, November 7
7:00 p.m.
2314 Bissonnet St.
(832) 849-1687
Google map

Italian wine is my signora but Burgundy is my mistress: notes from day 1 at the Boulder Burgundy Festival

Last night found me at the 9th annual Boulder Burgundy Festival in Colorado where I’ve worked as the event’s official blogger for the last six years.

Even though it’s not my first rodeo (as we say in Texas), the thrill of getting to taste these spectacular wines, especially the “old and rare” wines at the festival’s kick-off event each year, has never worn off.

The flight for last night’s sold-out tasting of 30+ wines was selected by Master Sommelier Jay Fletcher from the Somm Foundation Cellar. There were wines stretching back to the 1930s and a number of show-stopping wines from the 1970s.

But my personal highlights were the 1985 Mongeard-Mugneret Grands-Échezeaux (above) and the 1996 Michel Bonnefond Ruchottes-Chambertin (below).

The 1993 Domaine René Engel Grands-Échezeaux (above), from a challenging vintage, wasn’t bad either, a truly rare wine in part because the estate no longer exists.

When you taste wines like these, it’s easy to understand why wines from Burgundy are so coveted by collectors. They were all vibrant and teeming of life, with nuanced aromas and flavors that lingered on the palate. The 85 Grands-Échezeaux was especially compelling.

What an incredible tasting!

I am so grateful to my long-time friend Brett Zimmerman for making me part of this gathering and experience. He’s been so generous to me. And I’ve been so glad to get to know many of the collectors who attend the festival each year and share their wines at the event’s marquee tasting, the Paulée Inspired Lunch.

This year’s featured producer is Jean-Marc Roulot and I’m really looking forward to his seminar on Sunday.

It’s all a bit of a dream for me. I spend most of my year tasting and working with Italian wines. But every fall, I take a break to come up here for these remarkable, truly extraordinary tastings.

Italian wine is my signora (and how I make my living). But Burgundy is my mistress.

Click here for my write-up on the first event of the featival including notes on the Somm Foundation Cellar and how it helps aspiring sommeliers and wine professionals.

The world of wine mourns the loss of Giorgio Grai, renowned enologist who shaped a generation of Italian winemakers

Above: Giorgio Grai (right) with his close friend, winemaker Francesco Bonfio, in Arquà (Padua province) in 2017. Although his work was known to few American wine lovers, he shaped a generation of Italian winemakers whose labels traveled across the Atlantic.

Race car driver and “father of modern winemaking in Italy,” as many called him, Giorgio Grai has died in Bolzano, Italy this week at the age of 89.

According to the one-off personal business card he carried in his wallet, he was a “doctor of everything, knight of good taste, and engineer in the art of getting by.”

While his life and career were seemingly culled from a Hollywood movie (as a young man he spent a decade racing for Lamborghini), he will be remembered above all for his winemaking and his mentoring of a generation of Italian winemakers.

Born in 1930 and raised in German-speaking Italy, he liked to call himself an “Italian among Germans and a German among Italians.” His father had been forced to change their last name from Krainz following World War I. Although he spent his latter years in Friuli, he always considered Bolzano his home, he said.

He was renowned for his stunning Pinot Blanc and Pinot Noir — the latter, a variety he called his favorite and the most difficult to vinify. But he also left his mark on the Italian wine world through his consulting with estates that stretched from the Austrian border to Puglia.

To make a great wine, he told an interviewer in 2013, “particular attention needs to be paid to what goes into a wine — from the outset. Nature is perfect. But it has been compromised by humankind’s impudence. There are organic wines that have been made correctly according to a given protocol. But if they were born in vineyards that lie adjacent to a freeway, then they’ll be full of lead. That’s not okay.”

I had the great opportunity to meet and taste with Giorgio on a number of occasions. He was a true cosmopolitan, a polyglot and polymath.

But beyond the many extraordinary wines of his that I had the fortune to taste (including unforgettable bottlings of Pinot Blanc from the 1980s), the thing I will remember most about him is how a legion of young Italian winemakers and enologists have spoken of him as a maestro and teacher.

Francesco Bonfio, winemaker and president of the Italian Association of Professional Wine Retailers, shared the following remembrance of Giorgio.

    Giorgio was an extraordinarily talented enologist, an extremely gifted technical taster, and a highly cultured gastronome. His passing leaves an irreplaceable void in the world of Italian and international wine.
    Of the many memories of him, this one stands out: in 1983 he met André Tchelistcheff and had him taste his 1961 Alto Adige Pinot Bianco (Sud Tiroler Weissburgunder). After tasting the wine, the Russian winemaker, creator of fine wine in California, knelt before him.
    His technical experience allowed to combine scientific rigor with genius. His humanist culture made it possible for him to judge the quality of a wine or a dish not just in terms of its aroma and flavor but also in terms of its harmony, balance, refinement, and elegance.
    Like all persons of “character,” he was a character with a sometimes challenging personality. He never shied from sharing his opinion, even in the face of supposed authority. He never hesitated to point out someone’s flaws, whether a chef’s or a winemaker’s. Acclaimed, beloved, hated, revered, often talked about, at times hard to bear, an unending source of envy — and he enjoyed it all. Going against the tide was his whim but it also veiled his intellectual openness and his multi-faceted ability to approach any problem from all perspectives.
    He never arrived on time. And sometimes he didn’t show up at all. He had an unrelenting, insatiable curiosity. In the same breath, he could speak of biotechnology, the elements of taste, car racing, and Bolzano. He was a Mittel-European who spoke fluent English, French, German, and Italian. Those who knew will always be proud of having enjoyed the privilege. And they will honor him by continuing to follow his teachings.
    Those who knew him have lost much with his passing. In the world of enogastronomy, if you don’t know who Giorgio Grai is, you’re clearly missing something. But not being able to know him is a shortcoming for which there is no remedy.

Sit tibi terra levis Georgi. You will be sorely missed.

3 Master Sommeliers, a top Barolo producer, and an erstwhile Francescana chef? Man, Houston’s wine and food scene really sucks (NOT!)

Click here for the latest update on the Kincaid Fire. 30 percent contained as of this posting.

Last Friday I was massively enjoying an epic flight of Oddero Barolo, Barbaresco, and Barbera d’Asti at one of my adoptive city’s hippest new restaurants, and it occurred to me: Houston is a real backwater, ain’t it?

I mean when you’re seated with three Master Sommeliers, including two that run one of the most highly acclaimed steakhouse lists in the country, and being fed by an erstwhile Francescana chef, you just really wish you were among the lucky few who get invited to media lunches with globally renowned publicists and leading Italian wine writers and experts.

But hey, not everyone can have all the fun, can they?

From left in the photo above, that’s Steven McDonald MS, Jack Mason MS, June Rodil MS, advanced sommelier Brandon Kerne (another badass), and chef Felipe Riccio, who not so long ago returned from a few years working in Massimo Bottura’s Osteria Francescana kitchen in Modena (Felipe’s story about making chilaquiles for Bottura is amazing, btw, but that’ll have to wait for another day, another blog post).

There was actually another Master Sommelier on the premises but he was otherwise occupied and too busy pouring wine to rich folk to stop by our table.

Also in attendance were Jane-Paige d’Huyvetter (likewise a badass), wine director at the super swank River Oaks Country Club; Weston “Piedmont Guy” Hoard (Oddero’s importer); and Ian McCaffery and Nathan Smith (Piedmont Guy’s distributor in Texas).

It was really interesting to hear Pietro Oddero talk about his family’s philosophy and approach to their classic Barolo (thank you, Americans, for not saying “normale” Barolo, an egregious misnomer for Barolo or any top appellation for that matter).

Americans are so single-vineyard focused (my impression not Pietro’s) that they often miss the point: the classic Barolo cuvée, blended from an estate’s top vineyards and rows, is the purest expression of the appellation and vintage. The single-vineyard designates are great (and I collect a lot of them). But they reflect a micro, highly localized expression of the appellation and vintage. They can be great and I love drinking and collecting them. But it’s always the classic wines, in Barolo and Barbaresco, that I find most compelling.

That’s Felipe’s housemade spaghetti tossed in caponata above. Utterly delicious.

A propos single-vineyard designates, the Piedmont Guy (above) and Pietro discussed Oddero’s recent acquisition in the Monvigliero cru in Verduno township.

The 2015 Oddero crus — Rocche di Castiglione and Villero — were still very tight in the glass. Excellent, with the immense promise you expect from a house like this, but not forthcoming with their fruit.

My favorites of the flight were the 2014 and 2015 classic Barolo and the 2016 Barbaresco Gallina, which was showing beautifully, really ready to drink.

When Tracie and I decided to move from Austin to Houston six years ago, it was to be closer to family, hers and mine, and the support we need with small kids in the house. But our adoptive city was already starting to emerge as a food and wine “capital of the South,” as one glitzy magazine called it a few years ago.

Over the arc of time that we’ve lived and thrived here, Houston’s become a true epicenter of the American food and wine renaissance.

Just considering the amount of sheer talent and experience seated around the table with me on Friday, not to mention the caliber of the wines we enjoyed and the fact that a winery principal was there with us, it’s hard to argue that Houston isn’t one of the country’s top enogastronomic destinations. The food and wine speak for themselves… Don’t believe me? Come visit and the first bottle of Barolo is on me!

Cuando sea hora de irse, no lo dudes. When it’s time to go, don’t hesitate. #californiawildfires

Tracie and I sending our thoughts and prayers to all our California friends and colleagues who have been affected by the current wild fires in my home state.

As I read this morning on the Sonoma Sheriff Twitter, “Cuando sea hora de irse, no lo dudes. When it’s time to go, don’t hesitate.”

The photo above was taken by a good friend in Napa in 2017 during the Tubbs Fire, “the most destructive in California history.”

Parts of Napa have been evacuated and badly damaged over the last week in the Kincade Fire.

I used to live in a neighborhood in the San Fernando Valley that was evacuated last week in the Tick Fire.

And this morning, we woke up to read in the Los Angeles Times about what is being called the Getty Fire. It’s burning just across the 405 freeway, a stone’s throw from my alma mater UCLA.

Across social media, a number of people have been posting their — how else to say it? — bewildered terror.

We all grew up with the occasional however deadly and destructive wild fire. But they are simply more frequent, bigger, and more deadly and destructive than ever before.

I took the photo below when I visited northern California wine country in late 2017, after the fires had been put out.

Please stay safe, everyone! I’ll follow up with aid resources here on the blog.

Subzones don’t work in Montalcino. Here’s why (guest op-ed by Stefano Cinelli Colombini)

The following is an op-ed that I translated yesterday for Fattoria dei Barbi owner Stefano Cinelli Colombini, scion of one of Montalcino’s leading families. I hope you’ll find it as compelling as I did. Please see also his response to reader Andrea Fassone, a top east-coast importer of Italian wines.

You can see Sangiovese’s gold across all of Montalcino!

In the background in the photo, you can also see another vineyard that’s located at the same elevation. But the color is different.

According to fanciful subzone-lovers, who are armed with their little multi-colored maps and their written-in-stone certitudes, it’s the same subzone. But according to nature, it’s not — obviously!

For all intents and purposes, Montalcino is a nearly monovarietal appellation. And at this time of year, the landscape reveals — with clear-cut evidence — that sub-zoning only works on paper. At every elevation, on every type of soil, and with every type of exposure, we can see different vines side by side, some resting, some with full vegetation, and others in an intermediary state.

Yet it’s all Sangiovese. If the subzone theory were exact, vines would act more or less in the same way in a given subzone. They would produce the same colors and aromas. And therefore, they would grow in exactly the same way. But that’s not the case. Why not? The answer is simple and anyone who has muddy boots knows the reason. Soil matters. Exposure matters. Rainfall matters. And grape growers matter even more.

If I use organic fertilizer to fertilize one half of a vineyard but don’t do the same for the other half, the wines will become more and more divergent over the years. The same thing will happen if I train the vines differently or if I use different rootstock or a different clone. And we’re not even considering the influence of spraying the vineyards at the right or wrong moment or the effects of poorly executed pruning.

Try combining all these effects. Mix them up with the thousand other variables created by nature and you’ll see for yourself. Great appellations like Montalcino were created for a reason. They offer the grape grower a range of variables that share a common theme.

The vineyards at Argiano and Sesti are divided by just a single hedge but are vastly different. If anyone can tell me what they have in common even though they are so diverse, I’ll be happy to give that person a big fat kiss. Their wines are much more similar to Brunellos made in the same style but in different locations. And they’re not similar to one another even though they are farmed side-by-side.

Ladies and gentlemen, take a look at the evidence and leave your colored maps for people who like to play Risk!

Stefano Cinelli Colombini

Translation by Jeremy Parzen.

Prosecco rosé is (probably) coming to a town near you in 2020 (and it’s all about the Pinot Noir)

Above: Pinot Noir is grown across northern Italy for the production of sparkling wine, including Prosecco DOC and DOCG.

Many American wine professionals, including Italian-focused tradesfolk, will be surprised to learn that Pinot Noir is one of the “authorized” grapes in the production of Prosecco DOCG and Prosecco DOC (Pinot Noir is called “Pinot Nero” in Italian).

According to regulations for both appellations, the wines must be made with a minimum of 85 percent Glera — formerly known as Prosecco, the primary grape used in both appellations. But up to 15 percent of Verdiso, Bianchetta Trevigiana, Perera, and Glera Lunga — traditional, local grape varieties — may be added. And the same holds for “international” varieties Pinot Bianco (Pinot Blanc), Pinot Nero (Pinot Noir), Pinot Grigio (Pinot Gris), and Chardonnay.

In the case of Pinot Noir, the grapes must be vinified “off their skins,” in other words, without skin contact, so as to avoid color imparted by pigments in the skins.

In the light of this, it should come as no surprise that Pinot Noir, vinified on its skins as a red wine, will be allowed in the newly proposed “Prosecco DOC Rosé” that consumers could see on the shelves of their favorite wine shops as early as 2020.

The Prosecco DOC consortium is currently considering an already drafted amendment to appellation regulations that would call for Prosecco Rosé to be made with a minimum of 85 percent Glera grapes and 10-15 percent Pinot Noir, the only other grape variety to be included for the likely-to-be category.

But bottlers won’t be able to source the Pinot Noir from outside growers. According to the amendment under consideration, only “estate-grown” Pinot Noir, harvested from estate-owned and managed vineyards in the Prosecco DOC, will be allowed for the production of Prosecco Rosé.

The proposed regulations for the production of Prosecco Rosé have been met by skepticism and cynicism by trade observers who see it as a subversion of Prosecco’s authenticity. But many producers I’ve spoken to feel it’s a natural evolution for the region and the appellation, where growers and bottlers have been following market trends for decades now — with overwhelming success.

When I first lived in Italy in the late 1980s, Prosecco was a highly local phenomenon. It was still sold in demijohns and my Paduan schoolmates would drive up to hills in Valdobbiadene and Conegliano townships (Treviso province) where they would fill the trunks of their cars with wine purchased directly from growers. By the late 1990s, with large négociant bottlers focusing heavily on foreign markets, all of that had changed. Today, Prosecco producers will proudly tell you, an acre of Cartizze — Prosecco’s most highly prized subzone — costs more than an acre in Napa or Barolo.

Many Prosecco bottlers already sell sparkling rosé that’s made with Glera and Merlot, a commonly planted variety in the Piave River Valley. I’ve tasted a lot of them and they can be enjoyable. But the few examples of Pinot Noir-driven rosé sparklers from Prosecco I’ve tasted have more depth, especially when the dosage is restrained.

Tradition — with a capital “T” — is a fluid term in wine parlance. When I first tasted Prosecco 30 years ago, you could hardly find it outside of Italy’s Veneto region where it’s produced. Today, it’s the most popular sparkling wine in the English-speaking world. The appellation has changed radically since my first Prosecco kiss and the wines barely resemble the style that the previous generation enjoyed locally. They can be very good but they are only remotely linked (in my view and on my palate) to the wines of yesteryear.

However you feel about the new Prosecco rosé, it’s probably coming to a town near you.

Some of the best NY pizza I’ve had in years (Manhattan and along the New York Thruway)

Manhattan has changed so much in the decade since I left the city.

Nearly all of the cool downtown rock clubs where my band used to play are gone. Nearly all the great dive bars where we used to hang are shuttered. And many of the wonderful pizza-by-the-slice joints where you could get a classic New York slice are sadly and irrevocably no more.

Does anyone remember Salvatore Bartolomeo from Rosario’s on Orchard St.? On July 14 each year (my birthday btw), our French band used to play on that corner for the Bastille Day celebration. Between sets, I would hang with Sal and he would make me an off-the-menu Neapolitan-style espresso after I washed down my slice with a can of seltzer.

During my recent trip to the city, I was determined to find a great slice since all of my favorite places are now closed.

After much painstaking research, I decided to try the “city hall” Little Italy Pizza on Park Place. Those are the slices above.

As Eater New York notes, “all Little Italy franchises are not the same. In fact, some are superb while others awful, with doughy crusts and lifeless tomato sauces. The City Hall branch is one of the great ones, and you can tell the minute you step inside and see the elated diners.”

It’s so true about being able to gauge the caliber of a by-the-slice spot by the clientele.

Little Italy (Park Place) does have a website for ordering. But check out its Facebook to get a better sense of the fare.

The slices were a little bit on the greasy side (the way you like it). This place really delivered (excuse the pun) the flavor and texture I remembered from my years in the city.

I was working all day on Friday but then Saturday I had to head up to Plattsburgh in upstate New York to see an ailing relative (long, sad story but at least he’s not in pain; we had a nice visit).

On the way back I was determined not to eat shitty New York Thruway food. And so, on a whim, I stopped at Saugerties, New York (not far from Woodstock) where I happened upon the wonderful Village Pizza (above).

They don’t have a website but they do have a Facebook (worth checking out).

Man, this place just nailed it. From the stone-faced pizzaiolo to the sullen (however polite) young lady working the counter, it had the old-school feel of the New York pizzerias of yore.

It took me about 10 minutes from the Thruway tollbooth to get there.

As I headed out, I took a puff and tuned into Woodstock Radio where I heard the most amazing country track by Steely Dan, “Brooklyn Owes the Charmer Under Me.”

It was just one of those seamless moments, a respite from the melancholy residual of my visit. The trip back to Newark airport was rainy, cold, dark, and lonely. And that pizza and the song were on my mind.

Great taste: Sip Trip with Jeff Porter and Antica Casa Scarpa come to Houston in November

On Tuesday, November 5, top sommelier Jeff Porter (above, right), one of the world’s most beloved wine pros (and native Texan), will be coming to Houston for a Sip Trip seminar and tasting at Goodnight Charlie’s.

Click here for details.

He’ll be pouring and talking about wines from his Sip Trip TV series.

I’ll be away that day but I can assure you that this a not-to-miss tasting and it’s always amazing to interact with Jeff and glean his insights into Italian wine.

And then on Thursday, November 7, I’ll be co-presenting a tasting of Antica Casa Scarpa at Vinology with Scarpa winery director Riikka Sukula, one of the coolest people working in Monferrato and Langa today imho.

We’ll be tasting Barbera from Scarpa’s top crus and I can’t imagine there won’t be a Barbaresco in there somewhere (and I’m trying to get us a bottle of the 1996 Barbera d’Asti La Bogliona that I tasted with her earlier this year… amazing wine…).

Please join us! Info follows and thank you!

@ Vinology
Thursday, November 7
7:00 p.m.
2314 Bissonnet St.
(832) 849-1687
Google map

Top image via Jeff’s Facebook.