Rkatsiteli - Two More New World Examples

This website is certainly no stranger to Rkatsiteli. Over the past few months, I've gone on an extensive tasting spree, but most of my efforts have been with bottlings from Rkatsiteli's native homeland of Georgia. The reason for this has mostly been that the producers of Rkatsiteli in the United States don't produce a lot of bottles and their distribution doesn't reach extensively into my area. Over the Christmas break, though, I had to good fortune of obtaining two more bottles of U.S. Rkatsiteli from various places in the Northeastern United States.

One of the bottles I had been looking for for awhile is made by Dr. Konstantin Frank's Vinifera Wine Cellars. I had a taste of this at a Boston Wine Expo a few years back, but hadn't had much luck tracking a bottle of it down in the Boston area. I was in Pittsburgh over the Christmas holiday and happened to run across a bottle in one of the state stores for about $20, so I snatched it up.

The Konstantin Frank winery is one of the oldest in the Finger Lakes region, dating back to 1962. Dr. Konstantin Frank was the first person to plant and grow Vinifera grapes successfully in the Northeastern United States. His insight that it was the root stocks used in the vineyards and not the climate itself that was the problem with successfully growing Vinifera grapes revolutionized viticulture in the Northeast and in the Finger Lakes region of New York in particular. The winery puts out a wide variety of wines, the vast majority of which are very good, but the Rkatsiteli is the only one I'm concerned with here. The wine was pale and silvery in the glass with a clean, minerally nose with just a touch of lemon peel. It was medium-bodied with very high acidity. Lemon/lime flavors were the dominant fruit flavors, but the wine was really characterized by a wonderful clean minerality. I have in my notes that it "tastes like a clean rocky stream with lemon wedges floating in it." It's a great apertif wine that shares some similarities with the Westport offering, but lacks some of the complexity and heft on the palate.

The other wine under consideration here is from Tomasello Winery in Hammonton, New Jersey, about half an hour outside of Philadelphia. Tomasello has started to branch out into the New England area a bit, but it mostly seems to be their sweet fruit wines that are showing up on our shelves here. If you're ever down in Atlantic City, I've seen a few of their offerings for sale in a wine shop in the Tropicana. My sister in law made the trip for me and picked up a bottle of their sparkling Rkatsiteli for $15. I've read in a few places that Rkatsiteli isn't used a lot in sparkling wine production because of it's tendency to have a high alcohol content when vinified. In fact, the one sparkling wine I've had from Georgia (the subject of a future post) contained three grape varietals, none of which was Rkatsiteli.

Whether they do it in the Old World or not, Tomasello has created a sparkling wine made from 100% Rkatsiteli grapes. In the glass it was a pale straw color with small, steady beads. It smelled like sourdough bread mixed with citrus peel and ripe apples. It had a high acidity and creamy mouthfeel with kind of a loose bubble structure. There was a touch of sweetness to it, which made me wonder whether it was an aesthetic decision to leave this a little off-dry or whether it was born of necessity in trying to keep the potentially high alcohol in check by not fermenting all of the sugars to dryness. This wine also had some of the mandarin orange characteristics that I picked up in the Tbilisuri I sampled last month. This wine had considerably more acid structure than that one did, which really helped to hold it together. All in all, it was a nice sparkler, but it isn't likely to take the place of Champagne in my cellar any time soon.

My final thoughts on Rkatsiteli:
1) It's a very versatile grape. I hope that the wide variety of styles that I have been showcasing here is a good testament to the many different ways it can be vinified. It reminds me very much of Riesling in that it's good dry, off-dry and even sparkling. I didn't have a dessert wine made from Rkatsiteli, but it wouldn't surprise me if there was one.
2) It can be a very tasty grape. The New World examples, especially from Westport and Konstantin Frank really show the heights that this wine can ascend to. I didn't dislike the Old World examples, but I'm definitely not as accustomed to those styles as I am the Newer versions.
3) It's a pretty hardy grape. It seems to do pretty well in a variety of climactic conditions, from the ideal growing seasons in its native Georgia to the harsher New England climates of Massachusetts and upstate New York.

So I hope you'll go out and give Rkatsiteli a shot. It's one of the oldest varietals around, and it still has the capacity to surprise and satisfy you.

Bonarda - Mendoza, Argentina

Ok, everybody buckle up for this one. The topic today is Argentinian Bonarda, and it's a tough grape to really pin down. For starters, there are several different Bonardas: there's Bonarda Piemontese, grown in Italy's Piedmont region and which has the synonyms Bonarda dell'Astigiano, Bonarda di Chieri, Bonarda di Gattinara or Bonarda del Monferrato; there's Bonarda dell'Oltrepò Pavese, grown in the Lombardy region of Italy and also known as Croatina; and finally there's Bonarda Novarese, grown around Piedmont and Lombady and also known as as Uva Rara. According to Argentinawineguide.com, the Bonarda grown in Argentina is either Bonarda Piemontese or Bonarda Novarese. Jancis Robinson (In the Oxford Companion to Wine), Oz Clarke (in his Grapes and Wines) and Wikipedia disagree and believe that Argentinian Bonarda is actually Charbono. But which Charbono? There is a Charbono grown in California, that it turns out is actually a French grape also known as Corbeau in Savoie. Some sources (Oz Clarke is on the fence, but Jonathan Alsop in his Wine Lover's Devotional) also believe this Charbono is the same as Dolcetto, grown in the Piedmont, but genetic testing says that this isn't the case. There is also an Italian Charbono grown in Barbera and Dolcetto vineyards in Piedmont which is not related to Corbeau or Dolcetto at all, which Jancis Robinson believes is the true Bonarda.

So which is it? The answer is, we still don't know. The strongest case seems to be for the Italian Charbono (UPDATE: As noted in the comments below, the French Charbono, or Corbeau, actually seems to be the closest match and Argentina is allowing winemakers to label their Bonarda as Corbeau if they wish. Thanks to commenter Gavilan Vineyards for the information). There is a large number of descendants of Italian immigrants in the country, with an estimated 60% of the population having some degree of Italian descent. Many of the Italian immigrants came from the Piedmont and Lombardy regions, where the Italian Charbono hails from. In any case, more research will need to be done to figure out what Bonarda actually is.

When most people think about Argentine wine, Malbec is what immediately springs to mind. Malbec is by far the most planted red grape in Argentina with over 20,000 hectares devoted to it in 2003. Before Malbec became the big star, Bonarda was the most planted red grape in Argentina and it is currently the 2nd most planted red grape there with about 16,000 hectares planted (Cabernet Sauvignon is a very close third and likely to overtake Bonarda soon with 15,440 acres planted). It is not as omnipresent in the US marketplace as Malbec, but it is easily obtainable from larger wine shops.

The bottle I picked up was the 2006 Trapiche Broquel Bonarda from Mendoza, Argentina. I paid about $18 for it. The wine was inky purple/black in the glass with incredibly deep saturation. It was completely opaque with even a small tasting pour in the glass. The nose is rich and complex with aromas of bittersweet chocolate, blueberry jam, intense black cherry aromas, boysenberries, blackcurrants/creme de cassis, and espresso. The perfume on this was rich, heavy and dense and I could have probably smelled it for about half an hour without getting tired of it. On the palate, the wine is full bodied and intensely rich with flavors of chocolate, charcoal, cola, blackcurrant and blackberries. This is a wine that Robert Parker would probably use the phrase "gobs of fruit" for. The fruit flavors are rich and sappy, so extracted that it's almost sweet, but there are those nice earthy elements there also that keep this from tasting like syrup. There is a nice acid base and fine, powdery tannins. This is a blockbuster of a wine for the price and would be ideal with grilled meats, steaks, roasts or just sitting in front of a fire and relaxing. If you're a fan of rich, extracted new-world red wines, this is just the things you are looking for. Whatever grape is actually in this bottle is pretty tasty.

(See also my post on Sangue di Giuda for more information on Bonarda in Italy)

Verdejo - La Mancha, Spain

Many readers may be surprised to learn that Spain actually is the world leader in vineyard acreage (as of 2008), leading second place France by almost 750,000 acres. Surprisingly, Spain is a very distant third as far as volume of wine produced, trailing world leader Italy by almost 15 million hectoliters. Why the discrepancy? Well, Spain is very hot and very dry (excepting the northwest Galician corner, which will be the subject of a separate post). Because of these conditions, vines are planted much farther apart in many regions of Spain than in the rest of the world. Vines need the extra space so they won't be competing with one another for the meager water supplies. The extra spacing also allows air to circulate, keeping the vines from overheating. The result is that Spain has a lot of land dedicated to vineyards, but that land is more sparsely planted, resulting in lower yields and lower overall production numbers.

Right in the middle of Spain is a region called La Mancha, perhaps best known for being the home of Don Quixote. La Mancha is a large plateau with an elevation of about 2000 ft., which also helps keep the temperatures more manageable, though it is still very hot and dry in the summer. Aside from being home to Don Quixote, La Mancha is the world's largest continuous vine-growing region in the world. They have 190,000 hectares of land devoted to viticulture, which would be enough to put the region 22nd in world production were it a separate country. La Mancha produces more wine than the entire continent of Australia. Most of the production was from the Airen grape which, as a result of the expansive planting in Spain, was (and possibly still is) the world's most planted white grape variety.

For many years, this region was the wine lake of Spain, producing a great deal of bulk and low-quality wine (think of the Central Valley in California or the Languedoc in France). In recent years, though, a few quality oriented producers have stepped up and are making a commitment to produce fine wine in this region (again, similar to what has been happening in the Languedoc recently). One of those producers is Paso a Paso. In addition to the Verdejo that I tried, they also produce a bottling of Spain's most famous red grape, Tempranillo which, while I have tasted and can recommend it, I will not be going into any detail about here.

Verdejo is perhaps most well-known, if it can be considered well-known at all, in Rueda, a small region north of La Mancha and the city of Madrid and just west of the Ribera del Duero. It's actually pretty difficult to find a description of Verdejo that doesn't immediately mention Rueda. Verdejo is native to Rueda and is not planted very extensively in other regions. Jancis Robinson, in her Vines, Grapes and Wines has this to say about Verdejo: "Of all the white varieties among Spain's official top twenty, Verdejo is probably the one with the most discernibly aristocratic character." As a casual Marxist, that kind of description makes me grit my teeth a bit, but I dove in to see what Verdejo is all about.

I picked my bottle up at the aforementioned Gypsy Kitchen in Quincy, MA for $14. My bottle was the 2009 vintage (I wouldn't swear to it, but I'd guess that vintage to vintage variation is pretty small here). In the glass it had a pale straw color and was brilliantly limpid and clear. The nose was exuberant with strong aromas of ripe pears, peachy stone fruit, grapefruit, ripe apples and flowers. The wine is dry and full-bodied on the palate with a rich mouth-feel and medium acid. Apricots and grapefruit peel were the dominant flavors, with some creamy pear. There was a nice minerality to the clean, crisp finish. I would say this wine tastes like a mix of viognier and riesling with the stone fruit and flowers of the former mixed with the citrus and acid of the latter. It's an outstanding wine for $14 that I was happy to drink on its own, but which also has a wide variety of possible food combinations (roasted chicken or Thanksgiving turkey spring immediately to mind as excellent matches). Aristocratic wasn't the first thing that sprang to my mind when considering this wine, but it was warm, friendly and attractive, three characteristics I'd much rather have in a companion than aristocracy.

Please see this more recent post for a tasting note of a Verdejo wine from the Rueda region of Spain.

Newport Vineyards - Landot Noir

Today's wine is another local specialty. Located just a few minutes from downtown Newport, RI, Newport Vineyards cranks out a wide variety of wines made both from classic, European varieties as well as some hybrid grapes. Landot Noir falls into the latter category. Also known as Landot 4511, the grape is named for Pierre Landot, a French grape breeder who was experimenting to try to find phylloxera resistant grape varieties. It's parent grapes are Landal Noir (Landot 244) and Villard Blanc (Seyve Villard 12.375). The grape has a genetic link to a whopping eight different Vitis species as a result of its extensive parenting tree. It is not widely grown, though it is well represented in the Northeastern United States. Newport has two different bottlings containing Landot Noir: the 100% Landot bottling and the Rochambeau which is blended with Cabernet Sauvignon (I'm unsure whether their Gemini bottling contains any Landot). Under consideration here is the pure Landot Noir bottling.

These wines may be available in some liquor stores or restaurant locations around the Newport area, but your best bet is probably going straight to the winery. I picked up my bottle of the 2009 Landot Noir at the winery for $25. Information on visiting the winery can be found here.

The color of this wine is very deep. It's nearly opaque with very intense saturation and turns dark garnet at the rim. The nose is all fruit: blueberry pie, blackberry jam, dark black cherries and black plums. It's a rich, heady mix of fruits with just a touch of chocolate to round them out. In the mouth, the wine has a medium body with nice acidity and almost no tannin. "Juicy" is the word that keeps popping up in my tasting note. There are flavors of tart red cherries, blueberry compote and fresh blackberries. Where the nose has a lot of cooked fruit flavors, the palate is mostly fresh fruit with some jammy elements there. The structure for this wine comes from the acid and it's fairly well balanced. Think of a very soft petite sirah or an Australian Shiraz and you'll be on the right track.

This wine is fine just on its own, but I tasted it with steak tips wrapped in bacon and it was excellent with that as well. Red wines in the Northeastern US can be really hit or miss, but this wine connects solidly. I like to see local wineries focusing more on varieties that are suited to the harsh New England climate rather than just growing Cabernet Sauvignon (I've yet to have a decent example and am beginning to think that all CS vines north of Virginia should be uprooted immediately) or Merlot (which can be successful with special care and a the right site) because they know that somebody will buy it. The price tag is the biggest sticking point with this wine but it's unique enough where I don't really mind paying the local premium for it. Newport's selection is pretty good all the way around and is well worth a visit if you are in the area. Their unoaked Chardonnay is very good, but likely won't be getting a review here. In an upcoming post, I will be reviewing their Blaufrankish alongside a Washington State version of that wine.

Tbilisuri - Medium Dry Rkatsiteli

This is the last article on rkatsiteli this year. Early next year, I'll be discussing a very interesting version from New Jersey, but until then, there will be a few posts concerning other varietals from other corners of the world.

This bottle has me a bit vexed. I can't really find any good information about this particular style. It isn't mentioned at all in Wines and Cognacs of Georgia and the brief blurb about it on Wikipedia is not helpful in the least. According to Wikipedia, Tbilisuri is a semi-dry pink wine made from saperavi, cabernet sauvignon and rkatsiteli. I can certainly tell you that that description is way off in describing the bottle I tried (pictured at left: the Marani/Telavi Wine Cellars offering, NV). My bottling was, I believe, 100% rkatsiteli and was definitely a white wine. I bought it for $10 at Bazaar in Brookline, which is where I go for most of my Georgian wine needs. My best guess is that Tbilisuri indicates that the wine is made somewhere around the Georgia capital of Tbilisi, but aside from that, I really don't have a lot of information on this bottle.

In the glass it had a yellow straw color that was closing in on gold with a full glass. The nose was a little shy, as many of these Georgian examples have been. I picked up on some green melon and lemon cream aromas, but they weren't exactly jumping out of the glass. On the palate, the wine is medium bodied and semi-sweet. The most glaring defect of the wine is apparent as soon as the wine hits your tongue: the acid is shockingly low here. Rkatsiteli tends to be a pretty high-acid grape, but in this bottle, it's almost completely absent. This is a big drawback in a wine with some sweetness to it, as the sugar just overwhelms the palate and the wine feels big and clunky in the mouth. The major reason that grapes like chenin blanc and riesling can take a bit of residual sugar is that the wine has a nice acid streak to keep it in balance. Acid in white wine is akin to tannin in a red wine; it's the structure that the other flavors really hang onto.

It's a shame, too, as the palate was layered and complex. There were flavors of orange cream, canteloupe, honeysuckle, candied lemon peel, white peach and mandarin orange wedges. It had a lingering finish composed mostly of canned mandarin oranges. I'm undecided about whether that's a good thing or not. I couldn't finish the bottle, though, as the lack of balance was so pronounced. If you don't mind drinking syrup straight out of the bottle, this wine might be for you, but otherwise, I'd give it a fairly wide berth and try one of the many other versions of rkatsiteli available.