Rich is the word that best both describes Chardonnay
and explains its popularity. Its aroma is distinct, yet delicate, difficult
to characterize, easier to recognize. It often smells like apples, lemons,
peaches or tropical fruits. Its delicacy is such that even a small percentage
of another varietal blended into a Chardonnay will often completely dominate
its aroma and flavor. Oak commonly takes over Chardonnay if the wine
is fermented or aged in new barrels or for too long in seasoned ones.
Unfortunately, chardonnay vines are shy-bearing
and susceptible to a myriad of maladies. Chardonnay berries are relatively
small, thin-skinned, fragile, and oxidize easily. This makes chardonnay
somewhat more sensitive to winemaking techniques and more difficult to
handle from harvest to bottling than most other grape types. These factors,
combined with increasing popular demand over the past decades, contribute
to making chardonnay-based wines one of the most expensive on the shelf
or winelist.
Harry Peterson Nedry
of Chehalem
*Northwest Chardonnay
Northwest
Chardonnay
|
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|
|
|
|
Varietal Aromas/Flavors: |
Processing Bouquets/Flavors: |
|
Stone Fruits: apple, pear, peach, apricot |
Malolactic: butter, cream, hazelnut |
|
Citric Fruits: lemon, lime, orange, tangerine |
Oak (light): vanilla, sweet wood, coconut |
|
Tropical Fruits: pineapple, banana, mango, guava, kiwi |
Oak (heavy): oak, smoke, toast, lees, yeast |
|
Floral: acacia, hawthorn |
Terroir: flint, mint |
Jim LaMar is editor of Professional Friends of Wine, instructs Introductory Sensory Evaluation of Wine at California State University, Fresno, and has been drinking, thinking, teaching and writing about wine for 30 years. He is a member of Professional Friends of Wine.
------------------------------
Think Oregon can't make
great Chardonnay?
Think Again!
great Chardonnay?
Think Again!
By
Cole Danehower
Chardonnay seems like such a natural for Oregon: in Burgundy, so often the
model for Oregon vintners, their white wine is Chardonnay-and there is certainly
no lack of great Chardonnay wines from Burgundy.
When Oregon's early modern vineyards were planted, Chardonnay was planted along with the Pinot noir. If we could make great Pinot noir like Burgundy, why shouldn't we be able to make great Chardonnay like Burgundy as well?
But we haven't. Or at least, we haven't reliably done so. Certainly there have been superb Chardonnay wines made in Oregon over the years, but they have been the exception and not the rule.
Why then, has Oregon been so successful with Pinot noir, and so lackluster with Chardonnay? And why is all of that about to change?
Chardonnay seems like such a natural for Oregon: in Burgundy, so often the
model for Oregon vintners, their white wine is Chardonnay-and there is certainly
no lack of great Chardonnay wines from Burgundy. When Oregon's early modern vineyards were planted, Chardonnay was planted along with the Pinot noir. If we could make great Pinot noir like Burgundy, why shouldn't we be able to make great Chardonnay like Burgundy as well?
But we haven't. Or at least, we haven't reliably done so. Certainly there have been superb Chardonnay wines made in Oregon over the years, but they have been the exception and not the rule.
Why then, has Oregon been so successful with Pinot noir, and so lackluster with Chardonnay? And why is all of that about to change?
Clones are part of the answer-but not all of it. Issues surrounding viticulture, winemaking, and marketing are all part of the mix. A renewed focus by a few Oregon winemakers is resulting in excitement about the region's Chardonnay future.
The Call of
the Climate
It's the climate. The nature of any wine
is largely determined by the climate in which the grapes are grown. White
wines-their flavors residing in the juice, undisguised by the flavorings
of skins-show the characteristics of the climate most readily. So, to
get the best Chardonnay wines, you should start with the best climate
for Chardonnay grapes.
But what is that "best" climate?
Chardonnay is wonderfully adaptable, and today is grown all across the
globe, from France to Switzerland,
Italy, Spain, South
Africa, Australia, and of course, California. This growing range includes warmer
climates (like California) and cooler climates (like Champagne).
And because the Chardonnay wines produced in these different regions
appropriately vary in flavor and character, it would seem difficult
to use current geographic
distribution as a guide to finding the "best" climate for the grape.
When the early modern Oregon winemakers began planning their vineyards though,
they realized the region had strong potential for Chardonnay.
" Chardonnay fit the theory of Oregon
that we started with," says pioneering Oregon winemaker David Lett. "It
is a Period One variety, which means it ripens right at the end of the
growing season in the Willamette Valley. Chardonnay grows in Burgundy
right next to Pinot noir, so it is perfect for the Willamette Valley," he
says.
" Oregon's climate being more Burgundian," continues Lett, not shying away from
his firm opinions, "we're producing-with the right clones-Burgundian style Chardonnays,
which are lighter and more elegant wines; not those ponderous, sweet, oaky, alcoholic
monsters that come out of warmer climates."
California, the target of Lett's comparison, is the world's "other" great Chardonnay
producing region. But because even the coolest regions are warmer than the
Willamette Valley, the ripening characteristics of Californian Chardonnay are
different than Oregonian, or Burgundian, grapes.
Consequently, Chardonnay from California is considered to show "warm climate" characteristics,
often described as ripe, round, and fleshy. This, plus a stylistic approach
to Chardonnay that has frequently emphasized heavy extraction and liberal use
of oak, has created a so-called "Californian" style of Chardonnay.
According to Doug Tunnell, owner of Brick House Vineyards "that's a
style that is a hotter climate style, and it works well down in California
where it's
warmer. But as far as I'm concerned, I think our whole notion up here is a
Burgundian one."
Classic white burgundy is often considered to display "cool climate" characteristics:
greater structure, more subtle fruitiness, mineral notes, and a more elegant,
some might say austere, style. Traditionally, this has also been the style
sought by Oregonian Chardonnay producers.
Send in the Clones
Despite Lett's and others' enthusiasm
for Oregon's "Burgundian" style Chardonnays,
the fact is that Oregon as a whole has not consistently produced the fine Chardonnays
so many have thought us capable of.
Harry Peterson Nedry of Chehalem |
" I think there's justifiable reasons
for us not having a good reputation," says Harry-Peterson
Nedry of Chehalem, "It's because of the history of the Chardonnays
we've made. They have not been great because of the mix of clones."
The fact is, no matter what the climate is like, in order to get the best wines
you must have the grapes that are best suited for that climate. And in the
case of Chardonnay, that means the right clone.
" The concept of 'clone' was not really in our vocabulary prior to 1973," recalls David Adelsheim of Adelsheim Vineyards,
an early industry leader.
Adelsheim worked with David Lett in the Fall of 1973 and observed Lett's Chardonnay
grapes getting ripe late, at the very end of the season. The next year he worked
in Beaune "and Chardonnay was being picked at the beginning of the season,
before much of the Pinot noir. So something was wrong," he remembers.
What
was "wrong" became apparent over
the next few years as discussions of clonal variations began, helped
by the efforts of early winemaker Chuck Coury. "Before the early '70s
nobody knew that Chardonnay was anything other than monolithic," says
Adelsheim. "At that time, we bought 'Chardonnay' and there was no thought
as to what the differences might be."
But differences there were. Oregon had primarily planted what became
known as "Clone 108," a selection that was best suited for a warmer
climate than Oregon's. What this meant was that, in many vintages,
the Clone 108 Chardonnay
did not fully ripen, leaving the winemaker with few options in making an optimum
Chardonnay wine.
Through his own researches in France, and working with the French viticulturist
Raymond Bernard, Adelsheim came to realize that there were at least eight different
Chardonnay clones, and the one that Oregon's winemakers had been working with "didn't
make any sense."
Over the next few years Adelsheim and others worked to bring the new
Burgundian clones into Oregon. At first, they were only sparsely planted,
with not much
in the way of careful experimentation. "I think that what experiments had gone
on with the white clones were secondary to Pinot noir," says Adelsheim. "In
Chardonnay, there was not that strong a focus."
But in the last ten years that focus has started to change. More and more of
the so-called Dijon clones have been planted, and the wines are starting to
turn heads.
 Cheryl Francis |
" I think the flavor profile of the Dijon
clones is very different," says Cheryl Francis, co-winemaker with Harry
Peterson-Nedry at Chehalem. "The Dijon has a weight to it that the other
clones don't have, and more tropical fruit notes. We also tend to get
a viscosity and intensity in the Dijon clones that is really appealing."
So popular have Oregon's Dijon clones become, that one wine writer has proclaimed
he will not review any Oregon Chardonnay that is not Dijon. This is perhaps
an overreaction-the clonal case is not entirely closed.
David Lett, for one, believes the Draper clone has been unfairly lumped
into the "bad" category. "I don't have the wrong clone," he says pointedly. "108
wasn't invented when I came here-everything I have is still Draper. I like
to see the diversity that is coming in with the Dijon clones, but at the same
time, I'm very happy to put any bottle of my Draper against any vintage of
Oregon grown Dijon at any time."
Others have had success with the "wrong clones" that indicates the
question of quality in Oregon Chardonnay is more involved than just
getting the right
clone.
Argyle's first Chardonnay
release, for instance, was made from Clone 108 grapes, and it was named
as one of the Wine Spectator's top 100 wines in the world.
" Argyle has had good success with the 108 clone," says Rollin Soles, who has
experience making Chardonnay from both clones "because we concentrated on the
viticulture and we very much concentrated on how we make it in the cellar."
The Viticultural
Challenge
As
David Adelsheim points out, just because we have the right clone
today, doesn't mean every Oregon Dijon Chardonnay will be great.
Two other issues are equally critical: the vineyard and the winemaking
techniques.
You need to have ripe, sweet Chardonnay flavors going into the
winery at harvest time, says Rollin Soles, if you are going to
make the best wine out of the
Dijon-or any-clones. "We pay a lot of attention to the physiological health
of our vines," he says.
In support of this, Soles and Argyle have pioneered the concept of
irrigating Chardonnay to produce the most healthy fruit. "With Chardonnay," he explains, "if
you don't have healthy plants at the end of the growing season, with the right
balance of fruit to green growth, the fruit flavors won't come out."
Consequently, in August each of Argyle's vines get a gallon of water. "That's
not much," says Rollin, "but it sure does keep the leaves healthy and sets
the plant up for the final race to ripening."
David Adelsheim, for one, is a convert. "It is clear to me today," he says, "that
with rare exceptions Oregon will only make great Chardonnay on sites that can
be irrigated close to the end of the growing season, or around veraison."
While irrigation has been anathema to may Oregon winegrowers, Adelsheim is convinced that a drought stressed vine cannot deliver "the intense fruity flavors that should jump out of your glass." Such vines, he says, tend to shut down to survive, and rather than produce the kinds of flavors the winemaker wants to see, the stressed vine will produce tannins and other less desirable compounds in its effort to retain what water it has.
Compounding this issue, Adelsheim goes on, is the planting of Chardonnay grapes in soils that don't hold water well. "We moved from deep Jory soils that had a certain water holding capability, to using more sedimentary soils, like WillaKenzie, that have no capability of holding water."
An undesirable result of all this, he says, is the propensity of many Oregon Chardonnays to lack fruit flavors, complexity, and ageability-regardless of the clone.
Rollin
Soles agrees. "You can mask some
of those things in red wines because you put all the red skin flavors
into the wine . . . but with Chardonnay, any deficiencies really stick
out."
So the Chardonnay site, and how the vines are treated by the grower,
are critical aspects of the ultimate quality of the wine. David Lett
(no fan of irrigation)
sums up the site question this way: "You're at the edge of the growing season
when your vines come ripe, and if you don't have all the advantages on your
side with Chardonnay and your site, your wine will not be as good."
The Winemaking
Challenge
Even with the right clones, grown
to maximize fruit flavors, Oregon's Chardonnay will not reach its
fullest potential unless winemakers give it the best possible
care in the cellar. "There are three pieces to this puzzle," says David Adelsheim. "First
is clone, second is irrigation, third is winemaking."
" It is more difficult to make a good Chardonnay than it is a good Pinot noir," asserts
Rollin Soles. "If you make a mistake with Chardonnay, even a small mistake, it
will show up. Whereas maybe a small mistake in Pinot noir can be mitigated by
the presence of all those phenolics and the fact that it has all that flavor
from the skins."
" In the winery it is an issue of gentle handling," says Adelsheim, "and of working
the wine in the barrel, gently, for an extended period to build the body of the
wine and the flavors. You've got to wait 15 or 16 months to do this, and then
it is only worth doing if you've done all the other things in the vineyard ahead
of time."
At Argyle-whose Chardonnays have been consistently rated highly by the national
wine press-great care is taken to treat the Chardonnay with respect and delicacy
in order to maximize quality. "We end up spending more time on Chardonnay than
on Pinot noir," says Soles, "we treat it with great importance."
All the fruit coming into the winery is chilled to 35 degrees to retard oxidation.
Pressing is done slowly, over a long period of time, and the juice is then
held cold in tanks until well after harvest. Then, over a couple of weeks in
November, the juice is tasted and a fermenting strategy decided upon.
" We take a lot of time to grow the fruit properly," explains Soles, "we take
a lot of time to assess the juices, and now we take plenty of time to monitor
the fermentations to ensure they go the way we want."
For Soles, quality winemaking is one of the keys to Oregon's success with Chardonnay. "We
almost need a new mindset," he says. "We need to have more people in Oregon
making good Chardonnay and taking it as seriously-if not more seriously-than
Pinot noir."
Rollin Soles goes on to say that rather than treating Chardonnay as
a "second
cousin" to Pinot noir, winemakers "need to be more careful about how they make
their Chardonnay, put more attention to it, and be brave enough to come out
and say 'You know what? Its harder for me to make Chardonnay than Pinot noir,
and I put more energy into this wine . . . than I do my Pinot noirs!'"
The Marketing
Challenge
Even if everything is done right in Oregon, we still face the formidable challenge
of competing with our Chardonnay on the world stage. In fact, there is so much
Chardonnay in the marketplace, one could ask why Oregon winemakers should even
try to improve the quality of their own Chardonnay when we are already, as
it were, in the hole with a poor market reputation.
And, indeed, many Oregon winemakers are giving up on Chardonnay. Pinot gris
has supplanted Chardonnay as the second most planted varietal in the state,
and Chardonnay vines are being ripped out of the ground in many vineyards.
This, however, is not the attitude of the Chardonnay makers we talked
with. "There's
always a niche for all kinds of wine," says Soles. "The answer is not to get
out of the market, but to at least keep your toe in it and keep making Chardonnay.
In our little region, we believe you can't live by Pinot noir alone."
Harry Peterson-Nedry agrees. "A lot of people are dumping Chardonnay
and going whole hog into Pinot gris. What I look at is the opportunity
to do Chardonnay
really well and winning a market for it. If you're in business for the long
term and looking at what we can make the best wines out of, then Chardonnay
has to be in the equation."
Adelsheim is only slightly less sanguine. "I think the challenge is very difficult," he
says. "To make an exciting Chardonnay would be a lovely thing, and we're getting
there. But does that mean the world will then beat a path to our door? I don't
have the foggiest notion."
The key to winning a market for Oregon's Chardonnay would seem to be getting
a body of committed winemakers focusing on making the best possible Chardonnay
wines-not just serviceable wines. What this will take, believes Soles, is critical
mass and a mind-shift on the part of Oregon's winemakers.
" There has to be a shift in people's attitudes," he reiterates, "that says 'Yes,
I can learn to be a better winemaker; yes, I can 'sacrifice' a certain portion
of my vineyard to grow Dijon clone, and yes, I'm going to have to put more energy
into how I grow and make my Chardonnay.'"
The results, believes everyone we talked with, will be well worth the effort. "Chardonnay
is a wonderful grape," sums up Lett, "a really elegant grape. I believe the
future for Chardonnay in Oregon is phenomenal."
JUST WHAT IS
A CLONE?
No, plant clones aren't some test-tube
experiment of genetics-crazed botanists. Yet to the average wine drinker,
the concept of grape "clones" is
often unfamiliar.
A clone is a plant that has been propogated by taking a cutting or bud from an original "mother vine." Because the clone is literally a piece of the original vine, not reproduced from seeds that have mixed parental genes, it contains the identical genetic makeup of the mother vine.
In any vineyard some plants display different characteristics, even though they are all the same varietal. Whether due to genetic mutation, or the influence of plant viruses, some of these characteristics are desirable. The idea behind making a clonal selection from these plants is to preserve and disseminate the favorable characteristic. In the case of the so-called "Dijon" Chardonnay clones, the favorable characteristics included earlier ripening, smaller cluster size, lower yields, and different flavors.
TERMINOLOGICAL CORRECTNESS
Wine language is notoriously imprecise, but that's no excuse for for using
specific terms inaccurately. David Adelsheim sets the record straight:
There is No " Clone
108"
When talking about Oregon Chardonnay, it is common to refer to "Clone
108," but this is technically incorrect. "108 can't be called a clone," says
David, "because it is in fact two clones. Both of them are cane selections
but different in the number of days of heat treatment, and also in the size
of the cluster. In the early '70s Foundation Plant Material Service . . . sold
both Clones 4 and 5 together as Selection 108 Chardonnay. So '108' stuck, and
the differences between the two clones have been papered over-though they are
somewhat substantial."
There are No "Dijon
Clones"
Since the early '90s, Oregon winemakers have become excited about the
potential of new Chardonnay clones from Burgundy, generically called "Dijon Clones." This,
also, is incorrect, says David. "They are not from Dijon, they never were
from Dijon, they have nothing to do with Dijon." It seems that the numerical
designators for these Burgundian clones were given a "D" prefix (Clone
D75, D76, D78, D95, D96) primarily "because the certification pack came
through with the address of Dijon on it." The Dijon address was nothing
more than the location of the regional office in France where the clones were
shipped. Any yet, the name has stuck!
Long an active leader in Oregon's wine industry, David took an early interest in improving the region's viticultural resources. In the late 1960s and early 1970s, David and others helped create Oregon's import quarantine on plant material in order to protect our vineyards from phyloxera. Working with the French, and particularly Raymond Bernard, David was instrumental in getting a variety of Chardonnay and Pinot noir clones into Oregon. "We did a tasting in 1973," he recalls, "of what we thought were different clones of Pinot noir to try to evaluate which ones would be best for Oregon. It was the result of that tasting that the Pommard clone took off . . . but there was no discussion then about Chardonnay. . . . the concept of 'clone' was not really in the vocabulary then." |
In the Fall of 1964, David went through Californian Jerry Draper's vineyard and took a selection of Chardonnay cuttings now known as the Draper Selection. Today's 36-year old Chardonnay vines at The Eyrie Vineyards are among the oldest in Oregon. "I'm not going to pick out one year as 'better,'" says David, "because it depends on what food I'm having it with. Some years our Chardonnay is more Chablis-like and some years it is more Montrachet-like, and sometimes it is Corton-Charlemagne." And ageability? "I can't think of a year of Chardonnay that hasn't just gotten better with bottle age. I don't have bad years of Chardonnay that I can think of. The '99s are lovely; I think the 2000's will eclipse them!" |
