Castor Membership December 2023: In the Spirit of Giving…In and Striking the Right Tone
The Famous “Red Slope” of Nierstein, on the western bank of the Rhein River, Rheinhessen, Germany.
“In the Spirit of Giving…In”
Seebrich Grauburgunder (Pinot Gris) Trocken, Rheinhessen, Germany 2022
The long, solstial dark of December is upon us, and despite the sunlight’s early exit each day, the seasonal lift on my spirit is, as usual, palpable. Despite the endless spate of activity and the fact that by this point each year a majority of my household is awash in various viral afflictions, there is, indeed, a magical quality to this time. The holiday season and the approaching end of a calendar year provide the usual platforms for reflection and resolution, but it is the concept of generosity that resonates most, the idea of selflessly going beyond what might be an expected level of kindness-material or otherwise, borne of faith or not. Seeing the light in someone else’s eyes, whether from a thoughtful gift or simply a shared experience, can make such an immeasurable difference that the person doing the giving often doesn’t even see the true impact…generosity is, more than anything, about breaking through an accepted norm. It is this idea, however fleeting, that we truly could stand to spend our entire year unfurling.
And so, it is in that philanthropic spirt, of mindfully GIVING, that I offer up to my Castor Members…hold on a moment, my hands have to stop shaking…a monthly feature that includes…sorry, this is harder than I thought to get through…Pinot Grigio.
If You Know, You Know: Just leaving this here to clear up any lingering confusion; the skin of Pinot Gris/Grigio is, in fact, red. Or more accurately, red with a striking grey-blue tint that gives the grape its name.
Ok, never mind-I just can’t give in. At least, not without a few caveats. I certainly cannot just go and feature a grape that has become a synonym for mediocrity and commercialization in the wider world of wine. Now, are there excellent Pinot Grigio/Pinot Gris available around the world, in the US and New Zealand, France, Switzerland, and even in Italy, where the variety’s overcropping has resulted in a glut of grocery store-level garbage (ok, a little harsh, but I was going for the alliteration) that has contributed mightily to the stigmatized view of Pinot Grigio we have today? Yes, of course. And, if you find yourself enjoying a simple but quaffable offering of PG from Italy or wherever because it’s “easy-drinking”, I like easy, and I’m NEVER here to judge. My job is to be a skilled selector, and part of that is incorporating that notion of generosity-going above the norm, exceeding a given expectation. In fact, if we’re going to fully appreciate a Castor Member feature on Pinot Grigio, here’s the really interesting tidbit: I don’t even think it’s necessarily Pinot Grigio being hopelessly over-farmed, over-produced, and over-marketed that has brought it to its current unenviable, nearly “un-featurable” state: no, the principal issue with Pinot Grigio is actually, well, just…Pinot Grigio itself.
In studying for Court of Master Sommelier exams, we were taught to look for Pinot Grigio not in spite of its unassuming qualities, but because of them. In the glass, Pinot Gris/Grigio (they are the same grape) is, particularly in many lower-end Italian and US examples, an array of “Mediums”-medium-bodied, medium alcohol, medium acidity, medium concentration of fruit. About the only distinguishing characteristic is the “hard to notice unless you know you’re looking for it” spot of visual color, a subtle ruddy shade to this otherwise straw-colored wine (Pinot Grigio’s thin skins are actually red…more on that in a moment). This slight clue, coupled with a fruit profile that often takes the word “subtle” and doubles down, leaves a blind taster with the task of remembering a wine not for what it shows but what it doesn’t, a true deductive exercise-as my friend and Master Sommelier Jarad Slipp once put it to a fellow student: “It doesn’t taste like anything? Well, you’ve probably got Pinot Grigio.”
This oft-maligned grape variety, with origins in France’s Burgundy region before it quickly moved to Switzerland and then the North-South border of Germany and Italy and beyond, is a proven genetic sibling of Pinot Noir-in fact, their vine leaves and general shape are so similar that often the only prevailing visual characteristic an oenologist can use to pick up on this genetic mutation is the aforementioned distinctive color-the fruit is red-skinned but this red is often tinged with a striking grey-bluish hue, and this is the source of Pinot Gris/Grigio’s name (Gris=Grey). Its relation to Pinot Noir is also reflected in its predilection for being finicky: historically, Pinot Grigio was known for difficult growing seasons and unreliable harvest yields and quality, to the point that plantings in Burgundy and Champagne were eventually abandoned in favor of other varietals. This practice was almost continued into Germany, but viticulturalists in that country were able to craft grape clones that became increasingly more stable in the volume and quality of the fruit produced. Eventually Northern Italy became Pinot Grigio’s spiritual homeland, with the large Trentino-Alto Adige firm Santa Margherita leaving the pressed grape juice off of its red skins entirely in 1961 and giving birth to the white wine behemoth that we know today (although it should be noted that the rise of “natural” wine has seen a pendulum swing in recent years of Pinot Grigio/Gris wines made with skin contact).
The incredible success of Pinot Grigio in the mainstream market, a wine made less to please and more to avoid offense, has obscured the truth that this grape, in the right hands and particularly the right climate, can be quite compelling. For my palate, Pinot Gris/Grigio works best in northerly climes, where the acidity can be coaxed upwards from its medium level to a racier note, and where the potential for non-fruit elements increases, countering the lack of a dynamic flavor profile. Key regions of this ilk include France’s Alsace and its spicier, richly adorned bottlings, and the deeper, softer apple and pear notes of the Willamette Valley in Oregon. But Pinot Gris/Grigio from these places is challenged by the fact that they are bigger and bolder examples of the grape than most consumers have come to expect. The spot on the globe where Pinot Grigio can arrive at the confluence of Interesting and Accessible may actually be in Germany, where the grape is known as Grauburgunder (literally, “Grey of Burgundy”). Perhaps this name for Pinot Gris/Grigio is the best of its many iterations; alluding to the grape’s color and origin without the reference to its genetics (“Pinot”), Grauburgunder in Germany can provide the drinkable qualities most Pinot Grigio fans seek out, but with terroir-driven specificity, textural verve, and a more nuanced, focused fruit than its Italian counterpart, allowing the resulting wine to stand on its own without leaving the room entirely.
Three generations of the Seebrich family, which would seem impressive enough until informed that the family has owned their winery in Nierstein for 240 years.
Desiring to show off Grauburgunder at its best and most festive had me betting on history-240 years of it, to be exact. For 1783 is when the Seebrich family first settled in the village of Nierstein, in the Rheinhessen region southwest of Frankfurt. A location for grape cultivation since the Romans, Nierstein has written historical documentation dating to 742 AD and is in the heart of Rheinhessen’s principal vineyard area, its vines occupying a narrow stretch along the western bank of the Rhine River. The town’s famous “Roter Hang” (“Red Slope”) is a nearly 7-kilometer long escarpment of red clay and sand that produces singular wines of very site-specific character.
Located centrally in the village, Seebrich has been owned solely by the family since its inception and currently farms 13 hectares of vines; the winery began as a mix of vineyard and farmland, and in the 1950s was converted by Heinrich Seebrich Sr. to focus solely on viticulture. Today, Heinrich Jr. is the patriarch, and is now assisted by his son, Jochen. Seebrich’s long history hasn’t corresponded with expansive growth-the winery still produces only 7,000 cases annually of all of their wines combined, and over half that figure is represented by Riesling and the red variety Dornfelder, meaning that the Pinot Gris is both lovely and correspondingly rare. Tasting all of their cuvees, I was impressed wholesale by the quality and value of the wines, but it was the Grauburgunder that intrigued me most-in addition to being delicious on its own merits, the wine is an opportunity to raise the bar of this grape variety and still be in the stylistic spectrum that most palates have come to expect from Pinot Grigio/Gris. Unlike examples from Alsace or Oregon, the Seebrich is not revinventing the wheel for the average fan of this grape-it’s just elevating it, turning all of that normality into descriptors that actually excite-a rare gift, and one that I am happy (begrudgingly, and with caveats) to give-D.
Seebrich Grauburgunder Trocken, Rheinhessen 2022
Country of Origin: Germany.
Places and People: The Seebrich family has, as their labels note, been “anchored in Nierstein” since 1783. Nierstein has written historical documentation dating to 742 AD and is in the heart of Rheinhessen’s principal vineyard area, its vines occupying a narrow stretch along the western bank of the Rhine River. The current proprietors are patriarch Heinrich Seebrich Jr. and his son Jochen, but the whole family is involved in the winery’s operation. The plots for the Grauburgunder are young vines planted on soil left over from a calcaereous algae reef present 23 million years ago.
Soil: As stated above, the tropical sea over which the Rheinhessen region now stands left behind a very distinct embossing of limestone that contributes mightily to this vivacious, texturally vibrant version of Pinot Grigio.
Grape Varieties: 100% Grauburgunder (Pinot Grigio/Gris). The German name for Pinot Grigio refers both to its color (the red Pinot Grigio grape has a distinctive grey/blue hue) and its origin in the Burgundy region of France.
Winemaking: The grapes are harvested and vinified to dryness under temperature control. The sugar level of the Seebrich is 6.9 grams per liter at bottling, meaning that although the wine qualifies as dry, there is a perceptible level of soft fruitiness. However, this is balanced incredibly well by a racy acidity as the wine checks in at 6.4 grams per liter of tartaric acid (typical range is 4.5-6).
Aging: The Seebrich Grauburgunder sees several months aging in stainless steel tanks.
Flavors and Foods: If I was going to give you Pinot Grigio/Gris/Grauburgunder/whatever the heck we want to call it, I was going to give you a delicious and interesting one, a bottle that would exceed the norm of our expectation level, and the Seebrich does so by both enhanced fruit character (although still subtle and delicate, the green apple, Asian pear, and slight touch of lime juice all express themselves more forcefully than we’re accustomed to) and a sublime texture of racy acid and mineral drive, converting the usual “everything is medium” drinkability of Pinot Grigio into a wine that will stick in your memory beyond the first sip. Pair with white meats such as pork tenderloin or chicken breasts, oily seafood or seafood crudo, winter salads featuring tropical citrus, or-if you have the discipline to hold a bottle until springtime-pour a glass of Seebrich with a plate of in-season white asparagus and take your vegetable consumption to new heights.
Service and Cellar: The Seebrich 2022 Grauburgunder is best served on the higher end of the white wine cellar temperature range (50-52 degrees F). Anything you lose in terms of more perceptible acid given the slightly warmer temp will be offset and then some by the more present fruit you’ll experience, which is lost if this wine is too cold. Drink now or in the next 3-5 years.
An homage to my musical past, and a
fitting definition for Timbre winery,
“Striking the Right Tone”
Timbre Pinot Noir “Opening Act”, Monterey, California 2021
I’ll tell you what my wife Michelle and I fight about…more than money, more than communication, more than who is responsible for creating an environment in which a giant Great Dane can wake you in the middle of the night from a dead sleep because he’s cold and wants to be covered in blankets…California wine.
My wine career began with exposure to wines from Napa and Sonoma, in their most corporate-ready forms: bottles of Caymus and Cakebread, Silver Oak and Stags’ Leap, all expertly curated to accompany…fresh seafood flown in daily? Ok, so perhaps the prevailing opinion of the wine buyers at Starwood and Hilton in the early 2000s was driven not so much by the interplay of food and wine as it was the give and take between diners’ expense accounts and our sales reports. However, my exposure to some of these wineries sent me down the rabbit hole further towards producers, and regions, that really challenged my perception of California in the best possible way, and stayed with me as the collective winemaking style of the state grew more and more bombastic, driven by ratings and collectors. I have always felt fortunate to have been privy to tasting Californian wines that didn’t revel solely in alcohol and tannin, that possessed subtlety and nuance. Since moving to the DC area, I have been able to taste many California wines from the 1970s through the 1990s that have surprised and delighted me in their more terroir-driven approach. But Michelle? A different story. My wife is a woman with heart and palate planted firmly in the Old World, and even when I am able to bring forth wines that we could both agree were superbly crafted, she will inevitably put down her glass and say, “It’s well-made, but it still tastes like (puts on her best rural accent)…’Murica.”
This is not a compliment.
I remember very clearly one evening of service at Central Michel Richard which came with several lessons: don’t judge a book by its cover, treat all guests like your next VIP, etc. I was contacted one morning during the holiday season rush by my salesperson for a large distributor, who had a rather sheepish request: the owners and executive team of a winery who had begun as artisans but long ago gone the big-box retail store/glitzy television commercial route of wine sales and marketing were going to be dining with us that evening-would I consider placing one of their wines on my list, even for just the one night? This request was not uncommon, and when properly asked I was always happy to assist my local contacts in keeping their visiting proprietors happy. Plus, this winery had produced some landmark bottlings back in the day-it might be fun for the team and myself to revisit and see what they were up to now, even at a much larger scale. We “kept an open wine” and placed the product on our list (the salesperson had rush-delivered it themselves earlier that day) and made sure to make the party really feel welcomed. At the end of the evening, the winery CEO called me aside. At first, I was worried something was amiss, but then he said: “You know, we’ve been going all over the country these last few weeks, and so many times when we book at highly rated restaurants, the staff looks down their nose at us because we’ve gone commercial. I also know that you haven’t historically carried our wines. I just wanted to thank you because tonight was exemplary, and you all took care of us without any judgment.” He then reached into his luggage: “I have been saving a few of these…” and proceeded to gift us two bottles of the winery’s flagship Cabernet Sauvignon from an outstanding vintage, a library selection that had seen 15 years in bottle. I gave one of them to the staff and took another with me on a short trip that Michelle and I had booked after the holidays had concluded, and when opened, discovered the California that I adore, that exquisite balance of savory and saccharine that is terroir-driven wine filtered through an extremely generous climate. Michelle’s eyes widened at the wonder in her glass, and I keep this memory etched in my mind of the time that my wife loved a California wine, in case it never happens again.
This story is not about being bought by big wine (for the record, I have never engaged in pay-for-play or anything of that nature). It is a story of an approach to winemaking in California that is happily seeing a Renaissance and is often highlighted by projects produced off the well-worn Napa/Sonoma path. Better still, some of these places have an impressive heritage of their own-one that may be the key to striking that balanced tone that distinguishes a wine from the masses.
It really did happen in Monterey; a long vine farming and winemaking tradition has yielded vineyard gems like the famed 1,000 foot elevation Sierra Mar in the Santa Lucia Highlands AVA.
Just like Frank Sinatra told us, it really did happen in Monterey. The coastal town above Carmel had a boon in vineyard planting and winemaking in the 1970s, when the state offered tax incentives and UC Davis offered funding for research into, among other things, daily temperature, and the result was large wineries lured to the cool-climate floor of the Salinas Valley to the east of town. However, Monterey has a history beyond corporate cultivation; by the time these projects were coming about, others had been working vineyards in Monterey AVA for generations. The most famous (and infamous, as their production and quality levels have for years been traveling on inverse axes) is the Mirassou family, who were the benchmark grapegrowers in the area. Many of their vineyards still thrive; rows are leased, or fruit is sold to an array of talented winemakers.
One such young man began his career as a sommelier, winning a Wine Spectator Grand Award in 2004 at the restaurant Sona in Los Angeles. His name is Joshua Klapper, and he soon found himself called to the winemaking side of our world, working with acclaimed Central Coast winemakers before founding a winery in Santa Barbara County called La Fenetre. The idea was to express a very specific set of winemaking decisions in single-site fashion across some of Santa Barbara’s most well-known sub-appellations and vineyards. In 2016, La Fenetre became Timbre Winery, and Josh continued to make small-production wines that, as the musical homage suggests, strike a particular winemaking “tone” in order to differentiate themselves from the myriad of artisanal-level “garagiste” winemaking being done in California. Today, Timbre has two tasting rooms, one in Arroyo Grande and a second just opened this year in San Luis Obispo. Although the winery’s overall capacity is still tiny (just 4,500 cases are produced in total, spread across 8-10 different wines at any one time), Klapper has expanded his selection of vineyard partners north of Santa Barbara into San Luis Obispo and beyond. The history of Monterey AVA and particularly the Mirassou family was compelling, and to produce his Pinot Noir called “Opening Act”, Joshua partnered with a vineyard now officially a senior citizen in its 62nd year of operation-Mission Ranch Vineyard in the Monterey subzone of Arroyo Seco.
Mission Ranch Vineyard, in the Arroyo Seco sub-appellation of Monterey.
Arroyo Seco boasts one of the longest growing seasons in the country; it shares the dryness that neighboring Salinas Valley (hence its name, “Dry Stream”) has, meaning budbreak occurs very early in the growing year, and also sports very low average daytime temperatures, allowing harvest to occur weeks past California mean harvest times. The north and west areas of the appellation have more shelter from the cool winds, and it is there that a 200-acre vineyard was founded in 1961 by the fourth and fifth generations, respectively, of the pioneering Mirassou family. Planted to several different varietals, they named it Mission Ranch, and it stands as one of the first and oldest commercially planted vineyards in all of Monterey County. The Pinot Noir planted at Mission Ranch features many clones, but a significant presence of the Burgundy Dijon clones are here, which feature in Timbre’s “Opening Act” blend. The Dijon Clones-115,667, and 777- are grapes that produce more measured, balanced Pinot Noir and help create a palate that is refreshingly free of the overtly saccharine, cloyingly sweet red fruits that so many New World Pinots possess. Factor in some of winemaker Klapper’s choices in the cellar (temp-controlled cool fermentation, aging in all-neutral (used) oak barrels from the famed cooper Francois Frere) and you have a wine that acknowledges its place while still knowing its place. This is Pinot Noir that is unmistakably Californian-ripe, densely concentrated red fruit that reflects the appellation’s sheer length of hang time, but also measured in its oak influence and balanced in its acidity and smoothness of structure.
In assessing wines from all over California currently, I see two schools of thought emerging: wines that are still trying to make “over the top” the norm, and wines made in an “apologist” style, trying to hide the natural climactic beauty of California by harvesting early or using whole clusters of grapes so that the stem inclusion will stunt the bounty of fruit on the palate. I do not think either of these ways is an accurate representation of California wine; the grapes should be free to do what nature compels, and not be impeded if their natural tendency is unctuousness. Conversely, boatloads of overripe fruit and new oak that may or may not resolve with time aren’t the pathway, either. Tasting wines like Timbre’s “Opening Act” makes me believe there is room at the crossroads between power and pleasure, and Joshua Klapper along with many talented winemakers I’ve encountered recently give me renewed hope for California’s winemaking future.
For now, I’m off home to try and convince the biggest California wine skeptic I know; I’ll let you know how it goes, and hopefully we can add back the “A” in front of “ ‘Murica ” -D.
Timbre Pinot Noir “Opening Act”, Monterey, California 2021
Country of Origin: USA.
Places and People: Winemaker Joshua Klapper, after a successful sommelier career, founded La Fenetre winery, which turned into Timbre in 2016. Attempting to highlight exceptional terroirs in small production bottlings, Klapper’s partner sites are chiefly in his home area of Santa Barbara County (the winery now has tasting rooms in Arroyo Grande and San Luis Obispo), but for the “Opening Act” moved north into Monterey and the Arroyo Seco subzone east of the Salinas Valley. Known for cool temperatures and dry conditions, the growing season here is one of the longest in the country, and the Mission Ranch vineyard where the Pinot Noir grapes are sourced is one of the standard-bearers of this climate. Planted in 1961 by members of the Mirassou family, Mission Ranch is a 200-acre plot in the northwest of Arroyo Seco.
Soil: The soils of Mission Ranch vineyard contain the sandy loam soil that Arroyo Seco is known for, but it goes deeper than in other areas of the appellation, making this a hotspot for fuller-bodied Pinot Noirs.
Grape Varieties: 100% Pinot Noir.
Winemaking: The “Opening Act” is hand-harvested and the grapes fully destemmed prior to pressing. Gentle pumpovers of the juice during the fermentation gives more contact with the skins and contributes to a balance between earth and fruit notes on this wine. Once fermentation is complete (temperature controlled) is followed by a gentlefree run press into barrels for aging.
Aging: Famous cooperage Francois Freres provides the barriques for the “Opening Act” to rest until bottling; the process takes 10 months. Winemaker Joshua Klapper uses only neutral wood on the wine, eschewing any overt oaky flavor notes.
Flavors and Foods: The personality of the 2021 “Opening Act” is announced from the first swirl and sniff; particularly in a Burgundy bowl glass, the equilibrium between fruit and non-fruit descriptors is a needed breath of fresh air. Fresh sage and oregano, warm garden potting soil, and cardamom seed mingle effortlessly and equally with the fresh, lively red fruits (raspberry, strawberry). On the palate, these fruits state their case more strongly, but the overall effect is still that of freshness instead of bombast, as the strawberries and raspberries are joined by pomegranate and fresh cranberry-a needed acidity that brings with it the non-fruits (the aforementioned herbs and soil, plus savory characters like dark soy and mirin, and soft spice notes of nutmeg, clove, and cardamom). Structurally, the “Opening Act” has a surprising grip, and the nearly medium-plus level of tannin is complimented with a mercury/iron element that screams “Omakase Tasting Menu”. The finish has the warmth that one would expect coming from one of the longest growing seasons in the country but does not overwhelm. Should sushi not be in your plans, pair the 2021 “Opening Act” with white meat dishes (actually, I think the spice notes lend the wine more to pork than chicken), mild vegetable curries, and washed-rind cheeses.
Service and Cellar: The Timbre “Opening Act” is best enjoyed at the lower end of red wine cellar temperature (56-60 degrees F). I like the way the wine’s balance is highlighted before warming any further. The structural notes behind the fruit and non-fruit lead me to believe in an aging potential for the wine, but the “Opening Act” should still be enjoyed in the next 5 years.