Margaret Swaine | Margaret Swaine

NATIONAL POST: Kentucky Distilled

by Margaret Swaine | Aug 7, 1999

Kentucky produces two things better than anyone – thoroughbreds and bourbon. While some of their horses go for millions, and even the stud fee for a single penetration can cost tens of thousands, bourbon is much more affordable. Both are quite closely tied however in many ways.

The Bluegrass state sits on a limestone shelf, permeated with clean natural springs rich in calcium. It’s this water that nourishes the famous blue grass (at certain times of the year it flowers turning the fields to blue) which strengthen the bones of the slender legged thoroughbreds. Corn also grows very well in this type of soil. The key ingredients in bourbon are corn and pure crystal clear water.

In the early days of America, Scotch-Irish immigrants settling in the area brought their copper stills with them. They quickly learned that corn grew better than rye or other grains yet distilled equally well. Evan Williams owned the first distillery in Kentucky, at Louisville in 1783. However it’s Reverend Elijah Craig who is most often cited as the originator of bourbon whiskey, distilling corn at Georgetown in 1789. Jacob Beam, progenitor of the family that still makes bourbon today, also had his start in the late 1700’s. Of course horses were an integral part of society back then.

The high society living in Louisville today, home of the Kentucky Derby at Churchill Downs, is a well fed one. Even the barns are in mahogany wood with brass fittings and look on the outside like expensive monster homes, sharing the same property with equally large homes for the horses’ owners. The feed is corn in more ways than bourbon. Corn bread, corn-battered vegetables, corn kernels in the salads, corn turns up everywhere bringing all the fancy stuff down to earth. As one Lexington resident told me, “This sort of quasi-chic society I live in, cracks me up.”

It’s thanks to corn that America has a truly indigenous spirit. While bourbon is a whiskey, not all whiskies are bourbon. By law bourbon must be distilled from fermented mash of no less than 51% corn grain. It’s this difference that sets it apart from scotch and other whiskies which originated elsewhere. Almost all bourbon, over 90%, is produced in Kentucky. And on May 4, 1964, the United States Congress formalized the link with the country, declaring bourbon America’s Native Spirit.

Ironically, Kentucky was the birthplace of the country’s most famous temperance leader, Carrie Nation. This six foot, 175 pound lady stormed saloons with hatchet and bible in hand. Her legacy seems to have carried to this day as in this bible belt state, about 90 of the 120 counties are dry. You can not drink bourbon in Bourbon County – you have to go to nearby Christian County for your nip. At the distilleries, you can tour but not taste. If that makes any sense at all. Some observers of local lore, even believe Baptist minister Elijah Craig was called the inventor of bourbon as a marketing ploy in the late 19th century to counter the temperance movement. But the biggest joke is the Bourbon Festival can’t serve bourbon.

While there are about 200 bourbon brands, they are connected to just a handful of companies. There are but ten operating bourbon distilleries in Kentucky, many selling their spirits under a variety of labels. Only two companies, Wild Turkey and Marker’s Mark, limit themselves to just one brand. For example Jim Beam Distillery makes Booker’s Small Batch Bourbon, Basil Hayden’s, Knob Creek, Old Grand-Dad, Old Crow, Baker’s and Old Taylor as well as Jim Beam. Differences in flavours are achieved by using different recipes for the grains, how long and where in the warehouse the bourbon is aged and so forth.

A basic recipe for bourbon would consist of 70 percent corn, 20 percent rye or wheat (not both) and the rest malted barley. The malted barley and the corn are always used, but the middle ingredient can change. A high percentage of small grains makes a more flavourful whiskey. The mixture of grains is cooked to convert their starches into fermentable sugars. The strain of yeast which is added to the mash (cooked grains and water) to ferment it into alcohol and carbon dioxide, is crucial to the process. Each yeast strain is individual, producing its own amount of alcohol and particular dominant flavours. A distillery guards its cache of yeast carefully. If lost, their whiskey would never quite taste the same. Some distilleries add hops to the yeast mash making it “soured”, and adding nuances of additional flavours. Sour-mash whiskies use a measure of the old batch added to the new, to bring a continuity of style to the fermentable mash. Every straight bourbon is made by the sour-mash process.

Straight bourbon has a precise legal definition. It must be distilled from at least 51 percent corn, to no more than 160° proof (80 percent alcohol). It must be put into charred new oak barrels at no higher than 125° proof and be aged for a minimum of two years. If it’s aged for less than four years, the age must be stated on the bottle. It’s bottled at a minimum of 80° proof. No neutral grain spirits or any other substances can be added. Blended whiskey is straight whiskey that has been blended with neutral grain spirit and often has an addition of colour and flavour enhancers.

When I visited Labrot & Graham Distillery, located in the heart of the Bluegrass region, surrounded by thoroughbred horse farms, I learned even more about the nuances of making bourbons distinctive. Located at the site where Elijah Pepper set up his distillery in 1812, it was rebuilt and re-opened in 1996 by Brown-Forman Corporation. Labrot and Graham’s Woodford Reserve is made using small-scale production, copper pot stills, longer fermenting and distilling time and hand bottling, much like it would have been done in the 1800’s. The tour however is definitely modern, starting with a film and walk about the visitor’s centre where I could sniff, read and view various details on bourbon. In the distillery itself, they let me stick my hand into a flow of the crystal clear liquid that is bourbon just after it’s distilled. It smelt quite perfumey with an alcohol level that stood the hairs up inside my nose.

Then they showed me their barrels. Brown-Forman has its own cooperage, and chars its wood to a heavy toast. Charring brings vanilla and tannins to the wood’s surface, flavouring and colouring the bourbon. The barrel staves they showed me from used bourbon casks, were soaked almost halfway through with spirit. (Used bourbon barrels are sent to Scotland, to age scotch – and add that special bourbon flavouring.) American white oak from cold forests is the wood of choice. The cooler the environment, the denser the wood grain, but even within a same forest plot the wood will vary. The density of the wood grain affects how fast the whiskey matures hence each barrel ages at a different rate. Within the warehouse, temperature variations also affect the aging process. Barrels at the top of the pile are subject to hotter air than those at the bottom. The master distiller at Labrot & Graham periodically tastes each of the 5,000 barrels in storage to assess how it’s coming along. What a job.

The last word about bourbon however must go to the horses. The mint julep has been the traditional beverage of Churchill Downs and the Kentucky Derby for nearly a century. On Derby Day over 80,000 are served. It’s believed the tradition evolved from an earlier practice that Virginians had of taking a julep in the morning as a stimulant before breakfast. When they settled in Kentucky, they brought their old customs with them. The morning julep evolved into drinking them at a Derby Breakfast, and ultimately as a drink sold at the racetrack. True julep aficionados serve them in an icy sterling silver beaker – preferably one that has been in the family for seven generations. However, the mint julep recipe is just like the Derby in that everybody argues about how it should come out. But making it with creme de menthe like my Albertan friend does, is not cricket.

While many recipes call for you to make a mint sugar syrup a day ahead, here’s one that’s quick and simple to follow. Place a few sprigs of fresh mint in a bowl. Cover with powder sugar and just enough water to dissolve the sugar. Crush the mint sprigs. Place the mixture in a chilled silver julep cup. Fill the cup with finely crushed ice. Pour in bourbon until the cup is brimming. Garnish with mint sprigs and let stand until frost forms thick. Note: One is enough, two is too many, and three is not half enough.

Bourbon Tasting Notes:

Blanton’s Single Barrel: Distinctive pot style bottle with man on a horse as a stopper. Single barrel, not mixed with bourbon from other barrels or of other ages. The one I tried was Barrel #12, Rick #28, bottled at 93 proof (46.5% alcohol). It was rich and mellow with heavy oak-honey tastes, that were multi-layered and refined. ($75)

Booker’s Kentucky Straight: Uncut and unfiltered six to eight year old bourbon. This particular bottle was 7 years and 10 months in barrel, bottled at 126.3 proof (63.15% alcohol). It had a very sweet vanilla, honey nose with belied its powerful punch in the mouth. Lingering tastes of coconut and other nuts, vanilla, fruit and smoke. Fiery it’s not for the faint of heart. ($79)

Jim Beam “Black” 8-year Old Kentucky Straight: Quite frisky aromatics. Some complexities and depth with a spicy sweetness. ($25)

Knob Creek 9-year Old Kentucky Straight: Barrel strength (50% alcohol), unfiltered and produced in small quantities. Full, lively and distinctive. Limestone notes, some prune and caramel flavours, dense and rich with lots of kick and length. ($62)

Maker’s Mark Kentucky Straight: Corn, wheat and limestone water distilled in small quantities – less than a barrel per batch. Maker’s and coke is a popular drink in the States. A classic bourbon, mellow, sumptuous and smooth with concentrated flavours. ($30)

Wild Turkey Kentucky Straight: Matured a minimum of four and a half years, it has a bit of a spirity bite in nose, some caramel corn husk character in an overall smooth, easy taste. ($23)

Woodford Reserve Select Kentucky Straight: Labrot and Graham Distillery small batch bourbon. A real bite in the nose and taste, but also fruity, honey/caramel tastes and smooth yet firm finish. Has definite personality. ($40)

NATIONAL POST: From Quantity to Quality, Chile’s Big Time Wines

by Margaret Swaine | Jul 24, 1999

by Margaret Swaine

European wines stand aside. Chile now has a growing number of super premium reds to challenge the best. And at $65 to $85 a bottle, they’re a good buy comparatively speaking. When Chile’s modern wines first reached North American shores in the eighties, we enthusiastically embraced them for their clean fruity taste at bargain prices. As sales boomed, there was more money to pour into the vineyards and wineries and success begot success. Foreign capital took interest, adding their millions in the form of joint ventures or outright purchase and investment. So by 1996 some of the market leaders began the super reds with the first reaching market about two years ago.

“We must demonstrate that we are able to produce high quality wines. It’s the can opener. We must be able to produce a big amount of wines of 90 points and more.” said Rodrigo Alvarado, manager of Chilevid. Chilevid, formed in 1993, is a group of high quality wineries that export the majority of their production. Their membership includes famous foreign names that have invested in Chile, such as Seagram (Cuvée Mumm in Casablanca), William Fèvre of Chablis (in Maipo Valley), Baron Philippe de Rothschild (Almaviva) and Marnier-Lapostolle (Casa Lapostolle).

I recently visited Chile to see what had developed since my previous trip about ten years ago. The changes were exponential. Gone were all vestiges of the old wood fermentation tanks, replaced by expanses of gleaming temperature controlled stainless steel tanks connected to computers for monitoring. Expensive French oak barriques for aging wines were everywhere. As were highly touted foreign oenologists flown in to consult on the harvest. New vineyards have spread across the countryside with pricy drip irrigation (as opposed to the old “flood the fields” method), and increasingly creeping up steep slopes which is great for quality but murder on the budget.

Though Chile has been making wine for 450 years, the current revolution began in 1979, when Miguel Torres of the famous Torres Winery in Spain, brought state of the art technology and his expertise to a winery he bought. He chose to settle in Curicò Valley, part of the Central Valley region, but he had a span of 1,400 kilometres from 27° latitude to 39° south, of wine growing locales to pick from in this long, skinny country. Chile stretches 5,000 kilometres along the Pacific Coast of southwest South America, with a width of a mere 90 to 400 kilometres. It’s happily hemmed in by the Andes, a good source of irrigation water, and the ocean, great for cooling breezes and fogs. Add in the long hours of sunshine and extended growing period, and it’s easy to see why wineries with money to spend would chose here.

It’s fast forwarded wine making in advance of infrastructure much like the cars clogging the inadequate road and transport system of Santiago. In the latter case the result is pollution levels and accident rates among the top in the world. In the former it means no controls on how many wineries are started or which grapes are planted. An appellation law to establish legally recognized viticultural zones was only set up in 1996. Wineries have burgeoned to 115 with 80 exporting. Labels have multiplied like rabbits within the wineries as they attempt to cover all possible tastes. Concha y Toro, the largest winery, as an example has this impressive line up: Frontera as the basic cabernet sauvignon and merlot reds, and chardonnay, sauvignon blanc and semillon whites; Sunrise a step up in generally the same varietals; Casillero del Diablo even better; Explorer for new varieties; Trio Sunrise for regional focus; Marques de Casa Concha for more specific regional (e.g. Rapel Valley within the Central Valley), Amelia for private reserve chardonnay and Don Melchor for private reserve cabernet sauvignon. Then in September 1998, they launched Almaviva, their Franco-Chilean fine red wine joint venture with Baron Philippe de Rothschild.

“A lot of wines are made by marketing departments…we make a wine and then say to marketing you figure how to sell it,” commented Miguel Torres about this proliferation of labels. In the end there will undoubtedly be a shoot out in good wild west style with labels and wineries dropping by the way side. Luckily on the plus side, the boundless enthusiasm has bred some amazing wines.

The aforementioned Almaviva is one. In the fashion of Grand Cru Bordeaux, 40 hectares of top vines 20 to 25 years old in age are reserved exclusively for this wine. About 90% are cabernet sauvignon, the rest merlot and cabernet franc, a classic Bordeaux blend. The vines are pruned back each year to reduce the yield to about half the norm. A state of the art Chateau has been built amidst them so that vinification, aging and bottling can be done on location, like the “mis en bouteille au chateau” done at Rothschild in France. A French and a Chilean oenologist share the wine-making. The wine is aged in new French barriques for 16 months and fined with the traditional egg white. Last year they produced 10,000 cases almost all sold abroad, and eagerly anticipated.

Errazuriz, founded in 1870 by a Don Maximiano Errazuriz of Basque origin, is one of the country’s leading quality wineries. Still family owned, descendant Eduardo Chadwick had the fortune to attract Robert Mondavi Winery as a partner for a 50/50 joint venture in the production of an ultra-premium red, Seña. The partners have also spun-off a premium line, Caliterra. Meanwhile Errazuriz continues with its own distinct and wonderful estate grown line produced at their winery in the Aconcagua Valley under winemaker California-born Edward Flaherty.

When the Marnier-Lapostolle (Grand Marnier liqueur fame) company decided to expand their fine wine business abroad, they ended up in the Rapel Valley, south of Santiago. Family member Alexandra Marnier-Lapostolle recruited renowned roving winemaker Michel Rolland to create the wines for Casa Lapostolle and invested US$ 12 million to make it all happen. And happening it is. Great wines all the way up to the Clos Apalta, Casa Lapostolle’s top gem, named after their oldest non-irrigated estate vineyard in Rapel. Tasting the stunning 1997, practically brought me to my knees. When I asked Rolland how he managed to make such a beauty, he replied with a smile, “Good soil, low yields, old vines, not bad winemaking.”

A Selection of Chilean Wines – from bargain to blow the budget with pleasure

Concha y Toro Casillero del Diablo Cabernet Sauvignon 1998: A difficult vintage, cold with lots of rain (the previous year was the best in about 15) hence more spiced and slightly herbaceous with subdued but pleasant berry. Aged 70% in new and used American oak six to nine months. ($10)

Don Melchor Cabernet Sauvignon 1996: A good year during maturation of the grapes, but rain at harvest. Aged in French barriques a year. Very purple red still, with smoky berry, minty herbal nose and chocolate. Quite rich and layered but tannins are chalky so needs age and time. ($34)

Errazuriz Chardonnay Estate 1999: Warm vintage with low yields. Partially French oak barrel fermented and aged four months. Good fruit, quite ripe and tropical with a medium body. ($11)

Errazuriz Wild Ferment Chardonnay 1998: Natural wild yeasts, all barrel fermented and aged in French barriques. Delicate, complex, balanced, apple butter flavours with length and elegance. ($21)

Errazuriz Don Maximiano1997: Hillside estate vineyards. Mainly cabernet sauvignon with some cabernet franc, aged in French oak 18 months, over a third new. Rich, chewy touch of port like quality with a hint of mint, spice, coffee bean and lots of ripe berry. Wonderful, complex interplay of flavours. ($40)

Seña 1997: All French oak aged 18 months. Use one egg white per four barrels to fine as tannins are gentler in Chile than in France. Cabernet sauvignon with 5% carménière (a varietal mixed in the vineyards with merlot in Chile and confused with it until recently). Big, structured, packed with mint, herbs, sweet berries and vanilla. ($65)

Casa Lapostolle Cabernet Sauvignon 1997: Purple edged red, aged in French barriques, nose leaps out sweet ripe blackcurrant which follows through nicely on the palate. Smoothly balanced, some minty, herbal intrigue, yet friendly and rounded. ($15)

Casa Lapostolle Sauvignon Blanc 1998: Aromatic nose of fresh pineapple and passionfruit. Lively taste full of fruit, yet clean and refreshingly tangy. ($12)

Casa Lapostolle Cuvée Alexandre Chardonnay 1997: Fermented and aged 12 months in barrels. Rich Buttery, velvety texture that’s lush and smooth on the palate. Exotic tropical fruit tastes. ($28)

Casa Lapostolle Cuvée Alexandre Merlot 1997: Spends one year in new French barriques. Excellent, supple, full of sweet ripe fruit with great concentration. Coffee, chocolate complexities. Depth and structure with medicinal notes. ($30)

Clos Apalta 1997: From select parcels of cabernet sauvignon, merlot and carménière. Incredibly intense, layered, structured, velvety tannins, full bodied has strength while smooth and elegant. Everything is present and integrated – berry, cloves, dark chocolate. ($80)

Torres Sauvignon Blanc 1999: Lovely tropical, passionfruit nose and taste. Fresh, clean aromatic and lively. ($10)

Torres Cabernet Sauvignon 1998: Sweet, ripe, smoky, smooth berry with a touch of herbs. Medium-full bodied. ($12)

Torres Manso de Velasco 1996: From old cabernet sauvignon vines, aged 18 months in French Nevers oak barriques. Concentrated, full, cassis, plums, herbs and smoky tar with plenty of tannins and some cocoa notes. ($25)

NATIONAL POST: Grand Debate in Alsace

by Margaret Swaine | Jul 17, 1999

In Alsace, we are not in the timber business, we are in the wine business,” pronounced Etienne Hugel as I tasted through a dozen of his wines. Part of the 12th generation in this family business, it’s obvious where he gets his ideas. His uncle Jean Hugel, who presided over 50 consecutive vintages before retiring, walked in at the end of the tasting to say “Isn’t it nice to come to an area where they make wine with only grapes. We are not in the timber business.”

This is the most common refrain I heard throughout the 170 kilometres which make up the Alsace Wine Route, among the over 1,100 wine-makers who sell in bottle. Like a great big family with internal squabbles, everything else was the subject of debate. Each winemaker expressed impassioned opinions about the optimum hectoliters per hectare, the planting of non-traditional grapes such as chardonnay, the naming of Grand Cru vineyards and exactly how dry each of the classical seven grape varieties should be vinified. But then while this is an area of close knit families and a viticultural history that can be traced back 2,000 years, it’s also an area which has been invaded frequently, falling under different flags depending on the victors. Vines were rampaged during such times as the Germanic invasion in the 5th century, The Thirty Years’ War and the two World Wars changing Alsace wine-making along with the politics of the area.

Tucked up in the most northeast corner of France, across the Rhine River from Germany and touching Switzerland at its southern tip, Alsace is jewel of a region. The Vosges Mountains to the west act like an umbrella, taking the brunt of the rain and blessing the area with one of the driest climates in the country. It’s postcard picturesque with historic walled villages of cobble stone streets, half-timbered houses, Romanesque and Gothic churches. The ruins of Medieval castles dot the mountain sides. Between the two gateways of Marlenheim in the north and Thann is the south, row upon row of vines undulate through the rolling countryside. Signposted vineyard trails give walkers a choice of 19 different “two hour” strolls.

Hugel & Fils is in the centre of Riquewihr, a town so pretty it makes your heart ache for romance. Recently Hugel attained the status of number one exporter of Alsace wines to Canada, beating out Willm which held the honour for decades ( a 1956 Quebec Liquor Commission listing shows 1947-49 Willm Riesling for $2.40). Still completely family owned and self-financed, they harvest from 65 acres of their own domain and buy from an additional 300 acres. They have clout and prestige. They also have the luxury of sticking to their guns. Along with two other major wineries who dominate the export market, Trimbach and Beyer, they oppose the Alsace Grand Cru system set up in 1975.

A little background is necessary to understand the significance of this. Since the devastation of this century’s wars, the push for renewal has divided the farmers in Alsace between those who believe in producing large quantities of cheap wine from high yield grapes, and those who advocate quality wines from traditional noble varieties. The quality over quantity guys have prevailed. The region was thus rewarded with AOC (recognized appellation of origin) Alsace status in 1962. Named after the grape variety, Alsace wines generally express the true varietal character of their origins in a pure fashion. About ninety percent of the wine production is white. Officially recognized grapes are riesling, pinot blanc, pinot gris, gewurztraminer, muscat, sylvaner and the only red, pinot noir. By law they are sold in tall bottles called flûtes.

However, the rest of France tends to believe that earth or “terroir” is of ultimate importance. They give the best vineyard sites the name of the nearby village, chateau or even the plot of land. Fortunately for Alsace, their soils are both diverse and rich in minerals. About 50 million years ago both the Vosges and the Black Forest of Germany were a single massif. When it collapsed the Rhine plain was formed. The Alsace vineyards, situated along the fault line between the remaining massif of the Vosges and the plain, are a mosaic of the collapsed ancient upper layers. Clay, limestone, marl, granite, gneiss, schist and even volcanic soils are intermingled. Certain vineyard areas have the geology to be deemed better than the norm. Hence in 1975 the first 25 designated vineyard sites which yielded wines of distinctive character were named. A few years later, another 25 were added bringing the total to fifty sites of Alsace Grand Cru vineyards.

Hugel, which has half of its vineyards in Grand Crus areas, decided not to be part of the system because they think it’s too watered down for Alsace to gain recognition for top quality. “They allow too high yields…and they wanted everything to be Grand Cru,” said Etienne. The Hugels believe in hand picking, low yields and as little intervention in the wine making process as possible. For the moment, they don’t label wines which come from Grand Cru areas as such. They believe their family name on the labels present a better indicator of quality. Down in the cellar, Etienne showed me the world’s oldest wine barrel in continuous use. Built in 1715, “Catherine the vat” has been filled by 12 generations of Hugel’s and is listed in the Guinness Book of Records.

Later that day in the town of Ribeauvillé where storks still nest on the rooftops, I meet with Hubert Trimbach, whose family wine-making tradition is also in its 12 generation. Below the enchanting winery with its half timbered walls and spire towers, I traipsed through his subterranean rooms holding over a million bottles in slumber until the time for their release. He too says “There’s not enough discipline in the use of Grand Cru so we don’t use it on our labels.” He blames it on the coops which have built huge wineries and need volume.

His thoughts on grape varietals differ however somewhat from Hugel. Etienne told me he felt gewurztraminer had the uniqueness of style that can insure a good future for Alsace. “I don’t think you can reproduce it well anywhere else,” he explained. Trimbach confided on the other hand, “Between us, riesling is the greatest white wine in the world. The longest lived. Chardonnay can go to…bed.”

Trimbach wines are all about focus and style. He never allows them to go through malolactic, a secondary fermentation which softens the acidity in a wine. His are steely, intense and long lived. His Clos Sainte Hune from a great vintage can still be fresh after 30 years, and is arguably the best riesling of Alsace.

Marc Beyer of Léon Beyer winery in Eguisheim is another anti-Grand Cru, proponent of dry lemony crisp whites. His Riesling Les Ecaillers, despite being 100% from a Grand Cru vineyard is named after an oyster shucking and white wine competition rather than a plot of vines. It does indeed go very well with mollusks. “We focus on being food wine. I refuse any residual sugar if I can help it,” he emphasized.

Meanwhile near the Medieval town of Kayersberg, the Colette Faller and her daughters Catherine and Laurence (Laurence is one of the few female wine-makers in Alsace) do things a little differently. “We keep our house brand name and add the Grand Cru designation,” said Laurence. All their grapes are from their own Domaine Weinbach property. And they don’t always ferment their wines dry. She said in hot years when grapes have a high natural sugar, if they were to ferment the grapes completely dry, the resulting wine would have too high an alcohol level. In addition, she explained they use native yeasts which slow down before all the sugars are fermented to alcohol and the wine could get tired if they always waited until completion. Her wines had an opulence and lush ripe fruit, yet still plenty of acidity and length.

Bernard Sparr at Pierre Sparr in Sigolsheim, is another believer in putting the Grand Cru designation along with his family’s brand name. His grandfather was the mayor of the town during World War II and typifies what happened in the region. He held four passports in his lifetime. “In 1911 before World War I we were part of the German empire. In 1918 he became French. Then back in 1939 he’s German again. Then after that war French,” said Bernard. Grandfather’s involvement in the French Resistance leaves no doubt as to his preference of citizenship. His winery however was completely destroyed and he had to replant and rebuild from scratch.

Bernard, who recently married a Canadian he met in Ottawa, has inherited that fighting spirit. Along with the traditional grapes, he plants chardonnay which he oak ages. He ages his pinot noir in oak also, contrary to most other Alsace producers. However he did admit, “Ninety-eight percent of the time we are against wood….We have just a few thousand bottles of wine that was in oak.” Regarding sweetness in wine he said, “ We try to look for balance of acidity and residual sugar. I think riesling has to be dry as it’s the king of Alsace and the most well known. With pinot gris, gewurztraminer and muscat they must have some residual sugar or they will be so alcoholic they’ll burn your mouth.” His wines are fleshy, with big flavours and ripeness.

Perhaps the last word must go to Olivier Humbrecht of Zind-Humbrecht, one of the most out-spoken of a generation of strongly opinionated wine-makers. He is France’s first graduate of the British Master of Wine program as well as an oenologist. His wines are among the most expensive and I believe, the best, coming from the region. “Plenty of my wines get rejected at tasting panels as too rich, not typical for the region. They just don’t understand what I’m doing.” All his vineyards were converted to biodynamic viticulture since 1998 (beyond organic – this method follows the cosmic influences of the moon and planets as well) He goes for low yields, ferments in large wood foudres (vats) using native yeast, believes in letting the wine develop with as little intervention as possible – so it “speaks for itself”. He puts Grand Cru on his labels but said, “In Alsace every village wanted a Grand Cru so almost all got one it seems,” adding that he thought only about 30 deserved it. “Things have to change but if you criticize too hard people think you’re an extremist and they won’t listen and you won’t get any change.”

Lucky for us, we needn’t worry while they sort it out. All the Alsace wines which are imported into Canada are from the area’s top quality producers. No matter what’s on the label, what’s in the bottle is bound to be good.

Alsace Wines Gentil Hugel 1997: Blend of sylvaner with over 50% noble varietals (riesling, pinot gris, gewurztraminer, muscat) with a pretty floral nose and a gentle, perfumed, grapy taste. Rounded, it hints at sweetness but finishes clean and dry. Well made, charming, fruity melange. Lovely as an aperitif. ($13.)

Hugel Pinot Blanc Cuvée les Amours 1997: Aromatic, attractive nose. Peachy fresh with a fleshy roundness in the mouth. ($18)

Trimbach Pinot Blanc 1996: Dry, structured, with an austere elegance. There’s a tight, minerally, character with a crisp, lingering acidity. Makes a good food wine. Note: The ’97 coming on stream soon has more body and fullness due to the warmer year. ($13)

Trimbach Clos Ste. Hune 1995: Petrol and minerals in the nose. Very long, intense and dry. Still young, tight, austere and lemony. Lots of structure and concentration but needs more time to be at its peak. ($50).

Weinbach Riesling Schlossberg Cuvée Ste. Catherine 1996: Very intense with lots of acidity and length, yet still nicely ripe. The ’97 coming soon is more supple with less dominant acidity and more tropical fruit. ($57)

Dopff & Irion Gewurztraminer 1997: Forward fresh lichee nose. Aromatic, spicy, soft and lingering. Full of character and body, yet basically dry. ($16) Léon Beyer Tokay-Pinot Gris 1997: Zesty spicy, flavours, medium-full body with creamy texture balanced by good acidity. Tangy finish.($15)

Léon Beyer Riesling Reserve 1997: Crisp and refreshingly dry, citrus/grapefruit in flavour. Lightness yet good length and zingy acidity. ($13)

Pierre Sparr Diamant D’Alsace Réserve 1996: Lightly aromatic pinot blanc varietal. Soft and friendly with peachy pear fruit and smooth, lush finish. ($12)

Pierre Sparr Pinot Blanc Reserve ’98: Very ripe, fruity with almond blossom, pear and peach character. Soft and smooth. ($13)

Pierre Sparr Muscat Reserve ’98: Exuberant grapy nose with peels, blossom in the dry taste. Hint of spice in the finish, good balance, refreshing and charming. ($18)

Crémant d’Alsace Cuvée Willm: A sparkling wine made by the champagne method using a blend of pinot blanc, pinot gris and riesling. It’s pleasantly fruity with touch of sweetness and a spicy juicy peach flavour. Is so popular here that Canada has become its biggest market. ($26)

Willm Clos Gaensbroennel Grand Cru Gewurztraminer 1997: From an unusually hot vintage so it’s much richer, riper and creamy textured than normal. Fair amount of residual sugar so best before or after a meal. ($30)

Zind-Humbrecht Herrenweg de Turckheim Gewurztraminer 1997: Very rich, honeyed, powerful and intense with sweetness from noble rot and an aromatic rose petal quality. Incredible. ($35) Note: I tasted 27 wines from the winery’s ’97 vintage. The exceptional weather of warm sunny days and just enough rainfall produced wines that are universally wonderful. Pray that a few bottles of the Muscat Herrenweg de Turckheim, Riesling Heimbourg, Riesling Clos Windsbuhl, Pinot Gris Clos Windsbuhl and Pinot Gris Clos Jebsal make it to Canada and into your hands.

NATIONAL POST: Decanting the Alps

by Margaret Swaine | May 29, 1999

The wine tasting at the swish Hotel Mont Cervin in Zermatt, looked at first blush, like most others I’ve attended in the world. Dozens of earnest faced winemakers carefully pouring and explaining the fruits of their considerable labour to an assembled group of wine critics, writers, sommeliers and restaurateurs. Except for one thing. Many of the winemakers were wearing ski boots. And the sweat soaking their skirts was not from the heat of the room, but from a fast decent off the mountain.

I didn’t need to look at their feet to know their story. I was with them on the slopes. Typical of this most atypical wine symposium, we had crammed in a very early morning seminar on Swiss wines and Asian food. And a quick tasting of merlots from the Italian speaking Ticino district, lead by winemaker Guido Brivio, looking as sexy with his version of beard stubble as Andrea Bocelli. All run like clockwork to get those of us who ski on the mountain by 10:30a.m.

Then we were off schussing down black diamond slopes, the winemakers carving their turns with grace and speed. Lacking style but doing my best to preserve the skiing reputation of crazy Canucks, I barreled down after them. At lunch we stopped at Restaurant Franz and Heidi in the tiny village of Findeln, 2051 metres up the Alps above Zermatt. Towering above in glittering sunshine was the Matterhorn. A light lunch is never so light if you eat European style. We ordered wine from everyone’s winery to go with the remarkably sumptuous food. The meal lasted ‘til 3:00pm, which explains the hurtle down at breakneck speed to be ready for the tasting an hour later.

The Alps, the Swiss and the wines are intertwined; almost inseparable it seemed. This landlocked, mountainous, visual fairyland has some of the steepest vineyards in the world. Some are on a 85% slope with terraces of rocks to hold the earth. When I looked down from the vineyards of Robert Gilliard, way down to the town of Sion (a bidder for the winter Olympics), I got vertigo. Peering off the CN Tower seemed safer. Back in the 1800’s when the area was extremely poor, the church came up with a 42 year long make work project. That’s how long it took for the people to bring enough rocks from the river to make the terraces that now keep the earth and vines in place. Cable cars are used to bring people up to harvest the grapes. Helicopters are sometimes even used in this Valais region to get filled containers of grapes down the mountain, I’m told. Why not. Helicopters were used to get food into Zermatt this year after avalanches cut off road access. Which explains somewhat the cost of everything in Switzerland.

However now Canadians won’t have to travel far with a thick wallet, to find a selection of Swiss wines, as we are certain to see more of their wines on our own ground. Switzerland, which traditionally has exported only 1% of its wine production, is now pushing to establish an market outside her borders. As part of the GATT (General Agreement of Tariffs and Trade), three years ago the doors were opened to imported reds and in 2001 the protection of Swiss whites will be lifted. While the Swiss consume more than they make, the new free market will bring many competitors to woo them. The Swiss winemakers have no way to know how loyal their countrymen will be to home grown wine. Wine lovers elsewhere stand to benefit from their apprehension.

Many exciting indigenous varietals are turned into wine, as well as the standard noble ones such as merlot, pinot noir and chardonnay. However it’s chasselas which we are likely to import the most. Almost half of the country’s vineyards grow this varietal, making up 60% of the total wine production. Moreover, Switzerland makes the vast majority of the world’s quality chasselas wine. The Swiss believe the chasselas comes closest of all to expressing the true nature of their soils and their souls. While it is thought the varietal originated from Upper Egypt and was introduced to the country by the Romans in the 2nd century, it has so many clones and has evolved to the point that it’s considered native. Some Swiss experts claim to have proof chasselas was born on the shores of Lake Geneva.

Why would they be so proud of a varietal which is scorned as a common table grape by many such as their neighbors the French and the Italians? In nearby Alsace when it’s made into wine, it’s often hidden in a blend with others or called by a brand name which disguises the grape. It’s generally known as a big producer which makes fairly neutral, soft wine. Precisely so say the Swiss. The delicacy of their chasselas allows it to bring out the taste of their complex soils. Back loom those Alps again and the river valleys below – giving much variation in earth; thick alternate layers of calcareous soil, marl, gypsum, tertiary sandstone and more.

Indeed, producers who keep the vigor of the vine back by cropping (cutting off grape bunches) and by the impossibly steep Alpine slopes where they plant it, do coach it to heights of great charm. In the Lavaux region where the famous steep Dézaley vineyards overlook Lake Geneva, they say that the grapes are fortunate to receive three sources of sunlight. Sun from heaven, sun off the stone walls and sun off the lake.

There’s another reason, the Swiss have an affinity for chasselas. Think of the restrained, at first very formal, character of the Swiss. They reveal themselves slowly, subtly and only after you’ve spent considerable time getting to known them. (The Swiss National Tourist Office jokingly advises tourists to always wipe their feet for two minutes before ringing a Swiss the door bell.) So it is with the chasselas. It’s not an expressive varietal like sauvignon blanc or muscat with a wildly perfumed nose. It takes persistence and concentration to get it to reveal itself. Then you are rewarded with a taste as close to its origins as possible – the flavour of the rocks, soils and minerals of the Alps.

The Swiss proved this point on another pre-ski early morning when they had Swiss Sommelier Association president Myriam Broggi rub rocks under our noses during her lecture. Then she had us taste wines which came from the various earths. Light sandy soil such as that around Geneva gave an aroma like linden blossom and an overall lightness. The limestone soil of Neuchatel gave more a sensation of acidity, a dry effect on the tongue and a taste of minerals. The iron rich red marl soil of Vaud, created a heavier, sweeter nose and a metallic character finishing in dry bitterness. The firestone of Dézaley gave a full body to the wine and a burn flint smell. And so we sniffed dirt and sipped wine, finding characteristics of one in the other. Like noticing a child has it’s mother’s nose.

Hence each Canton (and each district and vineyard within) produces wines with particular characteristics. The ones of the French speaking part of Switzerland represent two thirds of the production and are where the chasselas is grown. In order of size; Valais, Vaud and Geneva are the largest producers for export. The Valais call the varietal by the local name fendant so watch for that on the label. As for food matches – naturally Swiss dishes such as cheese fondue (often made with it), raclette, fish and seafood go well. Also Japanese cuisine, lightly prepared poultry, vegetable terrines and all kinds of soft cheeses such as Camembert, Brie and Reblochon are a match.

If you don’t want to wait for the wines to come to you – this year is the time to go to Switzerland. Between July 29 and August 15 the Winegrowers’ Festival takes place in Vevey, a beautiful waterfront town on Lake Geneva. Held for the first time in 1783, this festival happens only once a generation. This year is the fifth and last time of this century. The festival features open-air performances and parades with 4,600 actors, dancers and musicians. Characters are drawn from Greco-Roman mythology and the bible (Ceres, Bacchus, Noah etc). The August 11th performance, during a 96% eclipse has a scene “the reconciliation of the living and the dead” timed to hit the height of the darkness. Snowcapped Alps form the backdrop to it all. And of course you’ll have a little taste of the Alps in your glass of wine.

Swiss Wine Producers in Canada
Wines tend to come in sporadically at this point in the $12 to $20 range:

Caves Imesch (Valais)
On chalkiest soil in sunny Sierre, the driest climate in Switzerland – in some years less rain than in the middle of the Sahara. Caves Imesch formed in 1898, three generations of Imesch family have been at its head. Own 15% of their vineyards and buy rest from about 100 growers in the Sierre region. Labels are a creation of graphic artist Charles-Albert Lathion. Colours recall soft gleams of emerging day. Accent on quality – fine acidity, extracted with mineral floral aspects and intriguing nose.

Charles Bonvin (Valais)
Based in Sion, established in 1858 and family run (name Bonvin happens to mean good wine in French). Owns 22 hectares of property in centre of Valais. Classic whites are the fresh and elegant Fendant Sans Culotte and the fuller, perfumed Domaine Brûlefer.

Rouvinez (Valais)
Marie-Paule Rouvinez-Laurans and her husband actually live in Montreal and her two brothers tend to their 35 hectares vineyards in the middle of the Upper Rhone valley near the city of Sierre. Recently they enlarged the family business by buying Caves Orsat, one of the biggest cooperatives in Switzerland. Their Fendant de Sierre has good structure, length, balance and a nice flinty, minerally flavour. Their Dôle (a pinot noir/gamay blend) has been selected this year to be served on all Swiss Air flights.

Other Producers We May Expect

ABC Wine Producers (various regions)

A group of five Swiss wine growing cooperatives which have joined forces for export. Comprise five wine growing regions. All members of the coops are independent producers farming their own land – product is excellent quality.

Bon Père Germanier Balavaud (Valais)
Winemaker Gilles Besse-Germanier, founder’s great-grandson, is a former saxophonist who married a beautiful black American he met at a club in New York. They live now at the winery in Vétroz in the canton Valais. While his fendant is good, it’s his late harvest, botrytis affected sweet white from the rare varietal Amigne de Vétroz that’s outstanding.

Louis Bovard (Vaud)
Have a charmingly pretty cellar on the shores of Lake Geneva. Produce mainly Dézaley, St-Saphorin and Epesses appellations and supplement production by purchasing from various growers. Their Dézaley Médinette has that interesting firestone taste and a nice fullness so that it’s racy and pretty.

Domaine Kurt und Josy Nussbaumer (Eastern Switzerland)
Family started winery in 1935. Have 9 hectares. Expressed direct interest in knowing more about Canada. Their fendant was fresh, easy – a light, fun summer wine.

Luc Massy Vins (Vaud)
Three generations of Massy Family have produced chasselas from their 17th century manor in Epesses above Lake Geneva. Their Dézaley Chemin de Fer has macho style, grip and full, rich intensity. St.-Saphorin Sous les Rocs is the preferred choice of women being elegant, balanced and lively.

NATIONAL POST: Casa Chianti

by Margaret Swaine | May 22, 1999

It’s no secret or surprise that the favourite region for many in the wine business is Tuscany. Where else is such a combo of idyllic countryside, beautiful historic buildings, art, food and wine. John Matta, owner and winemaker at the Chianti Classico estate of Castello Vicchiomaggio, has all this as part of his property.

Matta’s a Londoner of Italian parentage whose father was the first to bring Italian wines and liqueurs to England in the fifties. Now household names they included Bolla, Corvo, Campari, Galliano and Strega. Timing was perfect. Frederico Secondo Matta hit London when it was swinging. Italian restaurants grew from three to three thousand, says the son. Dad became the biggest importer of Italian wines in the U.K. and one of the biggest importers of wine. A one man operation became 100 with a listing on the stock exchange.

What do you do if you have it all? Sell and buy a castle in Tuscany. Frederico bought Vicchiomaggio in 1964, an ancient estate circa AD 957 set atop a high, craggy hill dominating the Greve Valley about 20 kilometres from Florence. The property was rebuilt and greatly expanded during the Renaissance period by the Medici family. As the biggest castle south of Florence, it was used during the Renaissance for all major state festivities. Now fully restored, retaining its Renaissance exterior colours and structure (it’s listed as a national monument), with interior modern amenities, it’s busier than ever. There’s a 220 seat restaurant run by Matta’s wife Paola, a cooking school under chef Francesco Lagi, and ten holiday apartments for rent in the castle. The Matta’s live 100 yards away in a converted farm house.

As well as wine, the property produces its own high quality olive oil. It would be unusual in Tuscany not to, says Matta. “Of the 300 estates who produce Chianti Classico, all do some oil, maybe 100 produce it [in saleable quantity],” he explains. With this kind of a life, it would be tempting to just enjoy. But Matta, an only child, now fifty and in charge, is also a serious, dedicated winemaker.

He studied oenology and viticulture in Piedmont and worked at a burgundian winery in Nuits-St-Georges for a year. Since running Vicchiomaggio, he has been very involved with developing not only his own wines, but the improving standards and quality of all Chianti. Chianti has been changing for the better for several decades now. Matta, who explains things carefully and meticulously, feels this is not only the result of improved methods, but also parallels changes in consumer tastes.

“Back in the seventies, Chianti was fresh, fruity, even fizzy with CO² and light in colour. White grapes were used in the blend and more of the fresh fruity red canaiolo,” he said. “People used to drink them because they liked the style.” The fuller, riper New World wines have created a different demand, and a different consumer. Chianti has been changing to match these modern tastes. “It’s a process that’s been happening for 25 years,” he adds.

“First there was a reduction of the minimum white grape requirement from 8% to 2% and then two years ago it was made optional,” explains Matta. Chianti Classico can now be 100% sangiovese or have up to 15% of other previously banned, yet good varietals such as cabernet sauvignon. Because of the desire for fuller bodied wines, the quantity of wine produced from each vine has been reduced as well. “We saw what the consumer wanted and so slowly we went in that direction by voluntarily reducing the hectolitre per hectare.” Quantity produced per vine can be lowered in several ways. With a green harvest, grape bunches are pruned off before they ripen. A more expensive way is to replant a vineyard with a much heavier density of vines. This is the way of the future.

The use of small oak barrels has come back into favor, a return to an 18th century practice which had been abandoned in preference to large barrels. Wood is still optional by law however. Which brings up another important element in Italian winemaking. The laws. They are always slower to change than the wines themselves. So as the wineries press on, often innovators have their wine designated “vino da tavola” or table wine rather than a wine with a recognized denomination. As the laws catch up with what the wineries are doing, the formerly outlaw wines become legit again. Hence, the super Tuscans, a breed of wines with great taste, high prices, but no pedigree because they used cabernet sauvignon, 100% sangiovese or did something else not yet approved, are coming back into accredited status.

According to Matta, however, the most exciting development in Chianti is the research into clones of sangiovese. The Chianti Classico Project 2000 determined there were 30 to 35 clones of sangiovese in the area when they started the research in 1986. Through experimentation they have narrowed this down to five with really good characteristics: faster ripening, fewer and smaller grapes per bunch to give higher resistance to disease and more skin, and higher sugar content. These clones are just now being made available from the nursery and Vicchiomaggio started their planting last year, putting 4,000 vines per hectare to decrease yield per vine, instead of the common 2,400. “Benefits of the 2,000 research will be seen in four to five years,” enthused Matta. “I’ve tasted wine from these clones and quite honestly they are good, very, very good.”

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