Apothic Red, 2008, California Blend

Syrah, Zinfandel, Merlot; 13.1% ABV, $10

From time to time Erika and I will purchase wines based on the feeling or vibes that we receive from the wine label. Certainly not the most scientific process (actually, not at all scientific) but it's a method that has resulted in great successes with some disappointments along the way. Sadly this particular wine fell into the latter category. But before you give up and abandon this post there's some helpful facts that may aid your future wine purchases.

Wine regulations vary by country. There is the strict and iconic French INOA (Institut National des Appelations d'Origine) responsible for categorizing (AOC, VDP or VDT) and regulating wine production (see the post about Chateau L'ermitage, 2007, GSM for more information). Italy, Spain and Portugal follow a similar model whereas Germany places greater emphasis on regulating harvest dates rather than site selection and other methods of vinification. Then there is New Zealand, famous for their Sauvingon Blanc, who recently abandoned all efforts to formally regulate their wine industry. In its relative infancy/childhood, the U.S. falls somewhere in between the orthodox of Europe and New Zealand's laissez-faire approach. There are however some basic regulations set out by the American Viticulture Area (AVA).

1) In order for a bottle to be labeled as a specific varietal it must consist of at least 75% of that varietal. So when you buy that Napa cab you love so much you are guaranteed that no less than three-fourths are Cabernet Sauvignon grapes.

2) 85% of those grapes must come from Napa in order for it to be labeled as such. This means that at most 15% of the remaining grapes could not only have come from vineyards outside of Napa but they may have come from outside California or the U.S. entirely. This can be to the wine's credit or detriment as it's entirely dependent on the vintners intentions and discretion.

That being said, it's not always the case that California blends consisting of a variety of grapes sourced from all over the state will inherently be better than a Sonoma wine of 100% Cab. If there is one universal truth about vinology it is that the merit of any wine can only be truly judged in the glass and in the mouth. Yet estate wines, wines that are produced on the estates in which the grapes are grown, typically produce better quality and complexity. How will you know if a wine is an estate wine? Most if not all bottles indicate on the back label to what extent the producer of the wine was involved in the wine making process. While all grapes are created equally, all wines are most certainly not. Those wines of a lesser nature, in my opinion, are more often than not those that are solely bottled by the producer. So, turning to the back label you'll read "bottled by Vintner X" which tells you that the only thing this particular wine maker was involved in was the post-fermentation bottling and storing. Not an encouraging note. "Produced and bottled" or "cellared and bottled" are solid indicators that correlate with quality wines.

So what of this wine, you may be asking. Well this is, or rather was, "vinted and bottled" by the producer. You may be thinking this to be a positive indicator but do not be fooled. There is no definition or standard for what "vinted" means and as such it is a nebulous term that can trick consumers into thinking that more care and effort was put into the production of this bottle than actually was. Additionally, being labelled a "Californian blend" I can discern that the mix of Syrah, Zinfandel and Merlot grapes were sourced from all over the state in varying quantity and quality. But as I mentioned before, the only way to know the truth about this wine is to get into first the glass and then the mouth.

The color is a dark purple to inky black, a quality that I'm usually excited by as a lover of the big, bold reds. The nose smells of oak, coffee, toffee, and caramel. I'm initially excited about this wine but it is in the mouth where this wine shows its true nature. I'm immediately overwhelmed by candied cherries, like ludens cough drops. With a moderately weighted body this wine is bursting with underripe-to-ripe red fruit, so obvious that it makes one question whether it's wine or two-year-old cranberry juice. In short, this wine falls flat on its ass. Extremely low tannins and acid result in it having very, very little to offer beyond the initial onslaught of fruit. It's clear that the grapes for this wine came from all over California and that little care was taken to produce this wine beyond fermented grape juice.

Freemark Abbey, 2008, Chardonnay

Napa Valley, 14.1% ABV; $20

We all have off days. Menial tasks that usually occur with banal normality can overwhelm each and every one of us on these cursed days. Yesterday was such a day for me, at least concerning the deconstruction and identification of wine flavor profiles. Over the last 6 months I've been dedicated to expanding my palate. Drinking wine has become more like exercise than entertainment. With each enticing inhale and savoring sip I strive to identify more flavors and sensations. My olfactory bulbs are no longer passive observers when drinking wine but are trained muscles reflexively twitching at the sound of every cork popped like the legs of a runner anticipating the fire from the starting gun. My taste buds stand at the ready with every rigorous swirl like that of a Medieval infantryman about to do battle. I've trained my physiological tasting system through wine classes, diligently completing my homework and extra credit (i.e. drinking wine and more wine). I've even gone so far as to use a Neti-pot twice a week, a process that involves the rinsing of the sinuses with salt water, in order to improve my sniffing abilities. Yet despite all of this I totally botched this wine. And it's a shame compounded by the fact that this wine is awesome. Before I even get into the details (few and poor as they are) this wine rocked, plain and simple. I suppose that this initial diatribe is a disclaimer seeing as how if any of you purchase this wine (and you should) you'll probably be able to identify and enjoy the elements of this wine far quicker than i did. But nonetheless here were and are my initial reactions.

The color is a shimmering, light yellow like that of a dandelion only translucent. The nose is not very big but what does come across are aromas of stone fruits, some apple and butterscotch. The mouthfeel is heavy, something to be expected with an ABV of 14%. I'm convinced that this Chardonnay like most Californian wines of this grape varietal has undergone malolactic fermentation, a process whereby bacteria convert the natural malic acid into lactic acid (think lactose in milk and you'll understand the texture). "Definitely oak aged", I think to myself. Going into the second pour I'm feeling confident, borderline arrogant. More elements become obvious, as they usually do, and I begin to pick up some real parmesan cheese flavors, not the store brand powder nonsense. And now the moment of truth. I look to the vintner's description on the back label and I'm immediately hit with a contradiction - no malolactic fermentation. Ouch. The humbling description goes on to state that the wine was only partially aged in oak barrels. Ok, so I'm .5 out of 2, not exactly nailing this wine. But wait, aromas of butterscotch the vintner indicates. Success! Redemption! As I read on one flavor profile becomes immediately obvious and should have been apparent from the onset - bananas. But not just regular ripe bananas rather candied bananas, specifically those fruit candies that were in the shape of a the fruit their flavors represented. Overall, the acid and tannins are extremely well balanced (paradox?) with ripe fruit and a delightful viscosity, at least for those who enjoy a heavier white.

So while I'm not thrilled with my performance I am thrilled with this wine. There's so much overpriced and poor quality chardonnay and cabernet coming out of the mass producing wine marketeers of Napa, but this particular bottle is an exception. Try it and tell me what you think.