So, I had a buddy who had some grape vines. He wasn’t going to use his grapes, so he offered them to me. I’ve never made wine all by myself, but I did spend 6 weeks in 2009 working at a couple wineries, and little brother has been making cider and mead and plum wine for the past year, so between the two of us we ought to be able to figure it out, right?
I started with a few gallons of grapes from my buddy, about half and half Tempranillo and Cab Franc. Then I got a line on some more Tempranillo thanks to the generosity of a local winery. The whole lot soaked for just a few days and then went into a cider press. I dosed it with a packet of dry yeast and the pressed juice was rolling hard within a day. It’s hard to tell at this point how dark my final wine will be, but based on past experience it looks like it should come out pretty light. How light it comes out will have a lot of impact on whether we decided to make our finished product still or sparkling.

So, I went backpacking a little while ago, and I love cooking while backpacking. I mean, I love cooking all the time, but having outstanding food while out in the woods is particularly awesome, as is having good wine to go with it.

Cooking while backpacking is a matter of figuring out how to get the maximum amount of flavor with the minimum pack weight. Honestly, this meal is probably a little heavy, but it’s bloody delicious and I never go backpacking without it. Also, on my most recent trip, I learned that trout makes an excellent addition to this recipe.

I rarely cook with strict recipes, but here’s basically what I’m working with. Before leaving home, I pack about a cup of anchovy-stuffed olives, roughly chopped. I use these because a traditional pasta puttanesca recipe has anchovy, but I don’t like anchovy that much, so this gives just a little bit of anchovy character, but not too much. If you love anchovies, go ahead and pack the olives of your choice and some actual anchovy fillets. I also pack a half cup of Just Tomato Bits. This is a specific brand of course, you can use whatever you want, if you have a food dehydrator you can dry your own home-grown tomatoes. I also pack fresh herbs. You can use whatever herbs you like, I’m particularly fond of rosemary and oregano in this dish, and usually basil. I made a new addition to the recipe on this most recent trip, and I will definitely make this a permanent part of the dish: dried kale. I took kale from the garden, left it in my oven on the lowest setting for a few hours until it was completely dried out, then packed it up. It was, of course, completely crumbled by the time I got to camp, but added awesome flavor and texture to the dish. The dish also needs garlic (paste or powder or fresh), dry salami, olive oil, trout, thyme, red pepper flake (if you like it spicy) and optional tomato paste.

The order and logistics of the dish will vary depending on what equipment you’ve brought with you. In this case, I did almost the entire dish in one sautee pan. I cooked the fish first, then set them by the side of the fire in tinfoil to stay warm. I then put the salami, roughly chopped, into the pan until it started to get crispy and there was a fair bit of salami grease in the bottom of the pan. I then added the tomato bits, dried kale, red pepper and water. You want to get your dry ingredients in fairly early to make sure they fully soften up. Add the garlic and tomato paste at this point as well. Tomato paste isn’t required, but it will make for just a little more tomato-ey sauce in your final product. As the sauce is simmering, you’ll need to cook your pasta. Any pasta will do, though I always use cappellini while backpacking just because it cooks faster. You want your sauce to be simmering so the water slowly reduces, but don’t let it get too dry. If you run out of water completely it will scorch, and you want a little bit of liquid left because the noodles will soak it up. I added the fish before the noodles, simply pulling the meat from the bones and mixing it with the sauce. And finally, added the pasta, and voila!

So, if you don’t already have a system worked out for taking wine while backpacking, check this out. I paired this with the 2007 Cappellano Dolcetto. I just recently became familiar with the wines of Teobaldo Cappellano, and my only regret is that I didn’t know about them sooner. Unfortunately Cappellano passed away a few years ago, and I honestly don’t know what the future holds for his label, but there are still some wines in the market that he made before he died, and this is one of them. If you’re familiar with Dolcetto, it’s probably not a grape you expect to produce amazing wines. Dolcetto is generally good, pleasant, versatile, and inexpensive, though rarely mind-blowing. This was one of the two best I can ever remember tasting. The other was the 2006 Pechennino Dogliani, which says a lot about the Cappellano I think, since Dogliani is a DOCG zone that was established because of the outstanding quality of the Dolcetto grown there. The Cappellano Dolcetto is also one relatively affordable way to check out Teobaldo’s wines, since the bulk of his production is Barolo, which isn’t exactly everyday drinking for me.

Oops, I said his name.

Tonight I sat down with 5 other wine industry folk and blind tasted 6 wines, all Tempranillo. Although it wasn’t specifically planned this way, we ended up with 3 of them coming from the Northwest and 3 from Spain.

And even though I frequently tout the objective value of varietal typicity and terroir, I found that the wines I enjoyed least were the two that were arguably the most classic examples of Rioja.

The wine at the top of my list did turn out to be Spanish, and it was fairly well received by the group as a whole, but there were two outstanding characteristics about it that raise questions when considering how typical it is as an example of Tempranillo. First was it’s age; it was the oldest wine in the tasting, a 2003 vintage. Next was it’s region of origin. If we’re going to talk about Tempranillo in it’s “classic” definition we would be talking about Rioja, but this Tempranillo came from Castilla y Leon, a growing area south of Riojoa, which is much warmer.

The next three wines on my list were from the Northwest, and two from Idaho; Cinder 2008 Tempranillo and Sawtooth 2008 Tempranillo. Both from the Snake River Valley AVA. While there were characteristics about both wines that made me inclined to guess that they were New World, I found them both immensely pleasurable, and I am drinking the Cinder Tempranillo as I write this post.

The two lowest-rated wines were the two from Rioja, one of which was my contribution. And while I did detect the ubiquitous ‘rubber tire’ smell from both wines, all members of the group agreed that both wines developed great character while in the glass, and both were too young. I would be very interested in trying both wines again with another 5 years of bottle age.

We arrived in Walla Walla just before 5 on Friday. Just in time to stop in at Dusted Valley’s tasting room before closing. I’ve been a big fan of this winery for a long time, tried though their whole line and especially liked the Stained Tooth Syrah and their Grenache. Also tried a couple of blend samples, which was really fun.

Just a short distance away, Sleight of Hand has just opened a new tasting room, and owner Trey Busch threw together a great, informal party Friday night. Winemakers and winery employees from Walla Walla, as well as a bunch of folks who were in town for Cayuse release weekend were there. Former Boise chef Andrae Bopp now owns a food truck in Walla Walla, and was serving up some outstanding food. Everybody who was invited was asked to bring something special from their cellar. There were too many outstanding wines to keep track of, but I know I was especially fond of the 2006 D’or et de Geueles La Bolida, and the 2006 Cayuse God Only Knows Grenache.

We all hit the sack relatively early, wanting to be well-rested for Saturday. We arrived at Cayuse just after 11 on Saturday morning. Whatever you think about the hype surrounding these wines, you can’t argue about the power this event has. One winery’s release date is a massive event for the whole town. Driving up to the winery, the appearance from outside belies the event happening inside. The winery is fairly nondescript, the vines still dormant, fruit trees to one side of the property, white lines painted for parking spaces outside the winery. From the outside it feels more like a small-town fair than a release party for one of the most sought-after cult wineries in the country. As we wait in line for entry, Christophe steps out and shouts that we are all crazy. Somebody in line shouts back that he is the pot, and we are the kettle.

One of the first things that stood out to me when we arrived was the vineyard outside the winery itself. If you’ve been to the southern Rhone, you’ve seen the famous stones. Some of the vineyards are so rocky, there’s literally no visible soil beneath the vines. If I wasn’t misinformed, the vineyard surrounding the winery is Cailloux, Cayuse’s oldest estate vineyard. In addition to the ground being covered in stones similar to those in Chateauneuf, the vine training in this vineyard is unique. The vines are trained much lower than any others I’ve seen anywhere in the US. I’m not a vineyard manager, but I’m assuming that this must be very helpful in protecting the vines from the Walla Walla winters, which can be more harsh than those in the Rhone. In fact, there was an unexpected freeze in Walla Walla in the fall of 2010 that is going to severely impact yields for the next few years. While grape vines can withstand freezing temperatures under the right conditions, the freeze last fall came before the vines had gone dormant for the winter, and many in Walla Walla didn’t survive.

As to the wines at Cayuse, the God Only Knows Grenache, the Camaspelo, and the Widowmaker Cabernet were the stars of the show for me, with the Armada Vineyard and Bionic Frog the leaders amongst the Syrahs.

From there we drove to the other side of town to visit L’Ecole no 41. This is another winery of which I have always been fond, and their wines did not disappoint. The first thing I noticed when we entered the tasting room was their new labels. If you’re familiar with their wines, you’ll be familiar with their brightly colored schoolhouse label. The new label is a more ‘serious’ looking black and white number, with a nice sketch of the original schoolhouse building. While I understand the marketing logic behind their change in packaging, I will definitely miss the somewhat whimsical and playful old labels.

I’ll honestly say that there wasn’t a single wine we tried there that I didn’t like, and we tasted quite a few, but there were a few standouts. Their 2010 Chenin Blanc was outstanding. It’s beautifully textured, and has fantastic acidity and balance. Their rose was great too, and if you’re headed through town I would recommend picking one up, as it will not be available anywhere but the winery. The reds were great across the board, but it was a particular treat to get to taste some older vintages. I’ve always felt like L’Ecole’s reds would age well, but I haven’t had the opportunity to try a whole lot of them. We tried a 2005 Syrah, which was drinking beautifully, very well-integrated and elegant. And, owing only to the generosity of our hosts, we got to try the 2001 Apogee, which was one of my favorite wines I tasted all day. Apogee and it’s sister wine Perigee are two Bordeaux blends. I’ve always felt that they both have great aging potential, but I’ve never had the opportunity to try one with more than a few years’ age on it. 2001 was the very first vintage Apogee was produced, and it was fantastic.

We also went to Woodward Canyon, Buty, and  Walla Walla Vintners. I’ll be perfectly honest, I wasn’t keeping detailed notes by this point in the day, but there was truly nothing we tried that I disliked. I was especially struck by the stylistic diversity in the red wines from Buty.

After a relaxed dinner at our condo, two of us went downtown to the opening party for a winery’s new downtown tasting room. I’m not going to say which winery it was, since I’ve heard rumors about the owner getting litigious against bloggers who say things he doesn’t like. As we approached the tasting room we saw a heavily intoxicated woman shouting down the street at a friend who had apparently decided to call it a night. She ended up a few steps ahead of us as we entered the tasting room. The doorman let her know in no uncertain terms that she was too drunk to be allowed in. He took enough time away from arguing with her about how drunk she was to check our IDs and let us in. Both the tasting room space and the party itself were roughly what we had expected. A rough-edged warehouse-style space put together in a deliberate attempt to make it look like it didn’t cost nearly as much as it must have to renovate, the party and the DJ all working together to mimic the feel of some trendy underground dance club that you can’t even find unless you know somebody. To be fair, everybody there seemed to be really having a good time, but it took us less than 5 minutes to conclude that this was not our scene. We made one lap of the room and headed back to the door where, as we walked out, we saw the owner arguing with the doorman in an attempt to get the drunk woman into the party.

All in all, it was a fantastic trip.

Wine writers make their living telling people when one vintage is better than another, and to a certain extent obviously I see the merit of keeping track of which vintages are the most desirable, what’s frustrating is the way people become slaves to the opinions of wine writers and attempt to only buy wines produced in what are supposedly the ‘best’ vintages.

I got thinking about this over last weekend when I had dinner with my parents. My father is an die-hard Burgundy fan, and when it comes to buying for his own cellar, he buys the way I think more people should; he finds producers he likes, and he buys wine from them every year. Last weekend we had dinner and drank nothing but ’04 Burgundy. Mostly village AC and Premier Cru. 2004 is a vintage that was pretty bagged on in the press.  Less than desirable weather in August resulted in some uneven ripening, and some producers’ yields were too high, overcompensating for a very small crop in 2003. The least impressive wines for the vintage, therefore, can display some green, underripe character or seem slightly diluted, but the truth is the weather conditions were not so bad as to prevent good winemakers from making good wine. I have met a few producers who express more pride in their 2004 wines than their 2005′s, a vintage that was wildly acclaimed in the wine press. The reason is simple: making good wine in 2005 was easy. You didn’t need talent to make good wine in 2005, whereas 2004 was a vintage that truly tested a winemaker’s skill. 2004 was overshadowed by 2005, however. By the time the 2004 wines had arrived in the US, reports on the 2005 vintage started to circulate, and some writers began calling it one of the greatest Burgundy vintages ever. So sales of 2004′s stagnated in anticipation of the release of 2005′s. When they did arrive, people couldn’t buy them fast enough. People who never bought Burgundy at all suddenly had to have it because the wine press had told them this was the greatest vintage ever. I can’t speak to the timing of events around the rest of the country, but in my store the waning fervor over the 2005 vintage and subsequent release of the 2006 vintage coincided almost exactly with the decline in the economy. This meant that not only had collectors completely blown their wads buying everything they could of the 2005 vintage, but the average consumer’s wine budget took a massive dive, and we saw sales of Burgundy in general come nearly to a halt. Now, obviously I don’t blame wine writers or the over-hyping of a vintage for the state of the economy. And, truth be told, from my experience I do agree that 2005 is a very good vintage, and the best wines will last a very, very long time. But the flipside of a vintage like that is that the wines may take years to reach maturity, so if you’re looking for a bottle of wine to drink anytime soon, you may not want the “best” vintage. You might be better off with a vintage like 2006 which, while it didn’t get nearly the critical fanfare of 2005, produced some absolutely gorgeous, lithe, elegant, and aromatic wines that were drinking beautifully from the moment they arrived in my store.

The bottom line is, with modern winemaking technology, the gap between a ‘good’ vintage and an ‘ok’ vintage can be very narrow. Now, there are exceptions. In the Rhone valley in 2002, for example, it rained so much during harvest that some vineyards were completely submerged, and some even washed away. Now, that’s a disasterous vintage. But obviously that’s a rare occurrence, and in the meantime try not to fixate on a vintage you’ve heard soooo much about.