Pascal Pibaleau Rosé

Close to the town of Tours in the heart of the Loire Valley, Domaine Pibaleau sits nestled between two of the region’s historic Châteaux: Azay-le-Rideau and Langeais. The 12 hectare Domaine Pibaleau has been family owned and operated since 1886. Here Chenin Blanc, Gamay, Cabernet Franc and Grolleau are grown on organically farmed sandy-clay soil near the banks of the river L’Indre. Domaine Pibaleau has organic certification, and they work according to biodynamic principles.

Pascal Pibaleau’s rosé is made from 100% old vine Grolleau. This uncommon varietal is named for the French word for crow, a name that describes its characteristic black color. Even in the brief time that the wine is exposed to the grape skin when making a rosé, Grolleau’s dark skins impart a striking, deep ruby hue. With juicy red fruit and racy acidity, this wine pairs perfectly with the soft-ripened goat cheeses traditionally produced in the Loire region. Try it with a young, tangy Valençay to bring out a cherry fruitiness in the wine, or choose a stronger, aged Couronne de Touraine for a more complex, fascinating pairing. We also love this rosé with a simple Galet du Cher or Selles sur Cher and a drizzle of strong chestnut or buckwheat honey. Herbaceous notes and a zesty, mineral backbone also make this wine a great companion for charcuterie and grilled chicken or pork.

Although it is quite dry, the Grolleau is a mouth-filling delight of texture. It’s supremely thirst quenching and excellent for these muggy, stormy September nights. Serve this lovely rosé well-chilled and if it’s not too rainy sip it on your back porch or in a lawn chair!

Rory Stamp is a classroom instructor, Wine Buyer, and cheese monger at Formaggio Kitchen Cambridge.

Clot de l’Origins Soif de Plaisir 2011

Southwest of the Languedoc lies Roussillon, a region that has too often been reduced to mere suffix. Roussillon stretches from the river Aude in the north to the border of Catalonia in the South. In the West, the snow-capped Pyrenées rise above 2500m in places, with the jagged peaks of Pic du Canigou at 2,786m (9.140ft) above sea level. A sharp descent eastward brings you to back to the stifling heat of the Mediterranean coastline, where Vin Doux Naturels reign supreme. Roussillon is primarily known for these wines, which are made from partially-fermented grape juice that is fortified with alcohol before it fully becomes wine. Made from the most common regional varietal, Grenache (whether is be Noir, Gris, or Blanc) , these aperitif “wines” benefit from early ripening fruit in some of the hottest, driest vineyards in all of France. Overall Roussillon produces 90% of all French Vin Doux Naturel, the most famous of which is Banyuls, made in the southeasternmost corner of the region. In Banyuls-sur-Mer, Grenache grapes are grown on steeply-terraced schist slopes, allowed to shrivel on the vine, fermented, fortified, and aged in barrel for years at a time at which point they can achieve a depth comparable to vintage port.

The extremes of the Roussillon climate have long posed challenges for winemakers, and abundant sunshine and high temperatures have caused some natural producers to revert to old practices. Whole cluster fermentation, in which the the grapes are left with their stems during the fermentation process, combats over-ripeness and high acidity by adding a greener, fresher element to the wines. Particularly in Burgundy, where the conditions are more temperate, whole cluster fermentation has been frowned upon as being rustic and imprecise, but it has been a very useful tool for some Roussillon winemakers. Today, more and more quality red wines come from the Côtes du Roussillon-Villages appellation, where producers benefit from the distinctive black schist of the upper Agly Valley. With a focus on low yields and traditional methods of production, local winemakers have produced stunning results.

Over ten years ago, Marc Barriot fell in love with winemaking and began a journey that ultimately brought him to the Roussillon. Barriot trained at a college in Beaujolais and traveled to vineyards throughout Australia and the United States before making natural wines at a Château in Bandol, Provence. There, he was captivated by natural practices and committed himself to founding his own sustainable vineyard with terroir-driven wines using regional varietals. Barriot’s Clot de l’Origine is a collection of small parcel vineyards across five communes around Maury, in the upper Agly Valley. Practicing biodynamic since 2004 and certified organic since 2009, Barriot grows seven regional varietals (primarily Grenache, Syrah, and Carignan) and ferments them separately in whole cluster. All of the work is done by hand (harvesting, pruning, bottling, etc.) except for the steepest terraces that require a mule. Filtration is rarely used, sulfites are never added, and the results are captivating.

Soif de Plaisir, or “Thirst for Pleasure” as it is literally translated, is quite aptly named. Carignan, Grenache, and Syrah provide a high-toned, slightly funky bouquet that is distinct to natural wines. This wine is full-bodied and rich with voluptuous black currant and cherry fruit. Whole cluster fermentation yields a mouthfeel that is silken and seductive and notes of cloves and nutmeg add a depth of spice redolent of a hearty Côtes-du-Rhône. Soif de Plaisir is perfect for a chilly autumn evening with roasted squab or braised duck in red wine, root vegetables, and baked apples.

Rory Stamp is a classroom instructor, Wine Buyer, and cheese monger at Formaggio Kitchen Cambridge.

Clos Cibonne Cuvee Speciale Tibouren

We’re so excited to share the Clos Cibonne Cotes de Provence red with you, as this is one of our favorite wines for late summer and early fall! Clos Cibonne is a winery located in the town of Le Pradet, in southern Provence close to Bandol. The rare local grape that is grown here on clay and schist soils is called Tibouren. Tibouren is a sweet little grape that produces fascinating wines. In fact, the grape is so special that Clos Cibonne has special permission from the A.O.C. to put the name of the grape on their label in addition to the A.O.C. designation, which is Cotes de Provence. We’ve heard a rumor that the Tibouren grape is related to the light Ligurian red rossese (used in the Dolceacqua DOC wines), but Clos Cibonne winemaker Andre flatly denies it, partially because he has “never heard of Liguria.”

All of their grapes are grown organically, though the winery is not certified organic. They employ huge 100 year old “foudres” (giant 5,000L wooden barrels) that don’t give an oaky flavor to the wines, but instead allow them to breath through the wood.

Rather than being intense or big and heavy like many southern Provence reds, this red has a refreshing acidity and balance that make it an easy sipper. Partially because the Tibouren grape is thin-skinned and sweet and partially due to the situation of their vines, the Clos Cibonne wines never taste baked or overripe. Vaguely spicy and herbal aromas are mixed with red fruit scents. On the palate this wine has just enough tannin to keep it brisk, but with a nice juicy berry fruit and a silky mouthfeel. Basically, we love this wine for its easy drinkability. The Clos Cibonne Cuvee Speciale red with a slight chill and a plate of brandade or a salty anchoïade and a crusty baguette make for a perfectly light end of summer meal.

Julie Cappellano is the General Manager and Wine Buyer at Formaggio Kitchen South End, Boston.

Domaine de Vaccelli Cuvée Roger 2009
with Meadowood Farm Lamb Chops and Red Fire Farm Brussels Sprouts.

France’s Île de Beauté (Island of Beauty) lies one hundred miles south of France’s Côte-d’Azur and just over fifty miles west of Tuscany. This wildly majestic island enjoys some of the hottest, driest conditions in all of France (it holds the record for the most annual sunshine), and is where the Greeks first cultivated vines back in the 6th Century BCE. Despite this long history of production, it was not until the 1960s, when a horde of skilled wine-makers fled Algeria (the so-called French pieds noirs) for Corsica, that it became known for wines of quality of distinction.

One of these wine-makers was Roger Courrèges, who founded the Domaine de Vaccelli in 1962 outside of Corsica’s southern capitol, Ajaccio. In Ajaccio, one of Corsica’s two AOC’s (designations of protected origin), southeastern facing granitic slopes have provided an excellent environment for indigenous varietals like Sciaccarellu, a thick-skinned grape that is literally translated from the Corsican dialect as “crispy-crunchy between the teeth.” Corsicans are often viewed as fiercely nationalistic, refusing to identify as French or Italian, and the Courrèges family is no exception, focusing on native vines and traditional practices to make wines truly representative of Ajaccio–the island’s oldest wine region.

Roger’s son Alain took over Domaine de Vaccelli in 1974 after his father’s death, restructuring the 28 hectare vineyard around the three most noble of Corsican varietals: Sciaccarellu, Niellucciu, and Vermentinu. Today, Alain works with his son Gérard to produce a range of reds, a white, and a delightful rosé (Juste Ciel) aged in caves beneath the winery, where natural granite walls are covered with Alain’s carvings. One of our favorites from Vaccelli is the Cuvée Roger Courrèges, a blend of Sciacarellu (70%), Grenache (20%), and Niellucciu (10%), that is a nod to the domaine’s founder. Cuvée Roger is dark and brooding, with a deep ruby color that hints at something sinister yet seductive. Rich aromas of red berry and spice give way to a stunning textural experience that is reminiscent of eating a low-hanging, super-ripe strawberry just after a rain storm. The fruit is ripe and laden with earth, and the warm, spicy finish recalls the wild mountain herbs, or maquis, that pepper the Corsican hillsides. These herbs are so distinctive–and remarkably aromatic–that their scent is said to have made native Corsican Napoleon Bonaparte weep when he was in exile on Elba, an island 50 miles to the east!

This herbacious, full-bodied red makes an excellent pairing for rich, meaty fall feasts.  The most classic pairing would be wild boar, or sangliers, marinated with red wine, herbs, and garlic, but alas, I was unable to wrangle any wild boars in Cambridge!  The next best thing is lamb, however, and I managed to procure some lamb chops from one of our favorite cheesemakers, Veronica Pedraza, who raises lamb and beef in addition to making cheese at Meadowood Farms in Cazenovia, New York. I rubbed the chops with whole-grain dijon, salt, pepper, and plenty of thyme (a nod to the Corsican maquis), and seared them until golden brown and medium rare. Paired with some roasted Brussels sprouts from Red Fire Farm in Granby, Massachussetts this gut-warming, hearty, harvest meal brought me right back to the Île de Beauté. I could almost imagine the lambs grazing amongst the rugged vines and kicking off the smells of the maquis–it’s enough to make anyone weep!

Rory Stamp is a classroom instructor, Wine Buyer, and cheese monger at Formaggio Kitchen Cambridge.

The Vallana Winery

The rolling Alpine foothills of the Alto-Piemonte (or Upper Piemonte) are not as well known or as frequently visited by wine-lovers as the Barolo and Barbaresco wine regions just to the south, but fascinating and delicious Nebbiolo-based wines are made here, too!

In the Alto-Piemonte they use the local name Spanna for their Nebbiolo grapes, and their soils are red with iron and porphyrite rock. The top wine designations here are Spanna Colline Novaresi (DOC), Boca (DOC) and Gattinara (DOCG).

These days you’ll find three wonderful Alto-Piemontese wines from the venerable old Vallana estate on our shelves.

The Vallana winery is a fascinating juxtaposition of new and old. The winery was founded by Antonio Vallana in 1937 and is run today by his energetic young great-grandchildren Francis, Marina and Miriam. The grand children have a British father, so their names (and accents) seem a bit unusual for a Piemontese family. Their father, sadly, passed away at a young age, before the children were old enough to take over winemaking operations. It was at that point that their mother, Giuseppina Vallana, took control and kept the winery alive.

Today the winery stands as a monument to its heyday in the 1960s and 1970s, when the Vallana wines were at their peak of production and popularity. Today winemaker Francis uses just just a fraction of the huge cement tanks and solid, rambling underground storage caves built by his grandfather. A visit to the Vallana winery is like stepping back in time to the 1960s. We were there on a cold January day, and we peered into lavishly decorated but unheated and unused rooms where one could just imagine MadMen-era-attired people drifting in and out with big hair and glasses of Gattinara.

The Vallana Winery’s Tasting Room

In the (equally chilly) bottling room and unused offices, yellow and orange colors dominated and plastic curtains rustled when we passed by. The one room that was cozy and heated with another office with big windows, massive metal desks and an in-use rotary-dial phone with a cord! Here we tasted the wine line-up and snacked on local cheeses and little salami sandwiches. Francis, an enologist with a Ph.D in viticulture, spoke eloquently and in great detail about the farming of his grapes and the making of each wine. His friendly sister Marina chimed in with facts about the family and the winery’s history. In the corner sat their mother, Giuseppina Vallana, mostly silent, smiling and listening until she presented us with a fluffy panettone when we were leaving. (“She pretends she doesn’t speak English.” said Francis) 

Overall the Vallana wines exhibit an elegance and charm that makes us want to hoard them. We keep their Gattinara and Campi Raudii on the shelves at the South End location at all times. The Campi Raudii is Vallana’s entry-level wine, made mostly of Spanna with two years of aging. It’s fresh and fruity with a smooth, lingering finish of classic Nebbiolo cherry fruit and iron-y earthiness. Francis believes in long bottle aging, and he releases his wines later than most. Thus, the current vintage of Gattinara that we have on the shelf is 2005. The grapes for the Gattinara are original clones that pre-date the formation of the Gattinara DOCG. They are hand-picked early in October, and are fermented and barrel aged in large barrels for at least two years. A long bottle aging develops the wine further. Our current 2005 vintage Gattinara is aromatic, smooth and high-toned with pretty cherry fruit and a lovely, elegant lightness. Decant or open the bottle at least an hour before drinking if you can.

These thick-walled cement tanks keep temperatures cool naturally as the wines ferment and age.

Either of these two wines would certainly merit a place on this year’s Thanksgiving table, though for my family of drinkers I’m sticking to the Campi Raudii!

This fall we’ve also received one coveted case of Vallana’s 1997 vintage Gattinara, available only in New York and Boston. In this aged beauty you’ll find the same Gattinara structure with more evolved leather and truffle notes. Softer fruit and more savory. Please let us know if you’d like a bottle of this special wine set aside for you (we think it’s a steal at $50.95!).

For more information follow this link to the Vallana website.

The Vallana wines are available at Formaggio Kitchen South End in Boston. If you would like to pick up any of these wines at Formaggio Kitchen Cambridge we will be happy to send them over with one day’s notice.

Julie Cappellano is the General Manager and Wine Buyer at Formaggio Kitchen South End, Boston.

Montbourgeau Cremant du Jura with (from left to right), Preférés de nos Montagnes, Harbison, Comté Fort Sainte Antoine and chestnuts, white truffles, and Bosc pears.

As the seasons change and the pastures are coated in frost, we look forward to some of our most decadently delicious cheeses of the year. Grass-fed milk is often prized for it’s buttery, vibrant yellow-orange color and mouth-watering flavor. These qualities are most present in cow’s milk alpine styles, like Comté or Gruyère, where beta carotenoids from grass (the same compound that give’s carrots their color) provide that deep yellow color and diacetyls, produced in fermentation, give us that characteristic “grass-fed” flavor. Summer’s milk is lean and grassy, making it a perfect raw material for harder, longer-aged cheeses with longevity and elasticity (try bending a piece of Comté). However, for the lavish, richly-textured, scoopable delights of the holiday season there is no substitute for winter’s milk. When the cow’s move off pasture and temperatures drop, their diet shifts to primarily hay and grain, and they produce less milk at each milking. As a result, the milk is much richer and sweeter and significantly higher in fat, protein, and lactose. This milk is ideally suited to making those soft-ripened cheeses that pair perfectly with a holiday meal, the globular palate-coating beauties that sink in to every nook and cranny of a crusty baguette.

These kind of winter-milk cheeses pair perfectly with the Montbourgeau Crémant du Jura, one of our favorite sparkling wines for tyrophiles (cheese-lovers).

Domaine Montbourgeau sits in the southwestern region of the Jura in France, surrounded by the Alps that sprawl across the French-Swiss border. Nicole Deriaux continues her family’s almost hundred-year tradition of winemaking in the minuscule (52 hectare) appellation of L’Étoile (meaning star), which derives it’s name from both the star-like formation of it’s five communes and the many ancient starfish fossils that have been found in the region’s soils. Chardonnay and Savignin are the most popular varietals here, and the Deriaux family harvests all of their grapes by hand, vinifying everything from Macvin to Vin Jaune in the cellars of the family home. The Montbourgeau Crémant du Jura is made with with 100% Chardonnay from the vineyard’s young vines, and spends 18 months on the lees (the residual yeast cells) before secondary bottle fermentation. This méthode-traditionnelle sparkling wine is made quite similarly to champagne, giving the wine a biscuity, toasted depth of flavor but with a characteristic Jura bite. This Crémant has a wonderful savory richness and a softer, creamier effervescence than Champagne. Pair with unctuous, brothy cheeses like Préférés de nos Montagnes, a lightly washed-rind cheese from the Jura (literally translated: the “favorite of our mountains”), a bark-wrapped Försterkäse like Jasper Hill’s Harbison, or a younger Comté like the Fort Sainte Antoine, with that sweet cream nuttiness that can only come from winter’s milk.

Rory Stamp is a classroom instructor, Wine Buyer, and cheese monger at Formaggio Kitchen Cambridge.

Our wine buyers’ top picks for the holidays! La Cigarrera Amontillado VOR, 2012 Domaine Comte Abbatucci “Cuvee Faustine” Rouge, 2005 CUNE “Contino” Rioja Reserva, and 1979 Kopke Colheita Port

The holiday season is upon us, and once again this year we’ve asked our wine buyers at both shops to recommend the wines they’re most excited about gifting this year. These are not every day wines, but rather special bottles that you will want to gift or sip with loved ones. If any of these wines strike your fancy let us know so we can set a bottle (or more) aside for you, as some of them are rare and available in very limited quantities.

La Cigarrera Amontillado VOR
Julie Cappellano, Wine Buyer at Formaggio Kitchen South End

Ignacio Hildago, is the ninth generation of his family to make sherry in Sanlúcar de Barrameda. This extremely rare Amontillado comes from the family’s Sacrista, where their oldest wines are kept. Here Ignacio, upon receiving permission from his family, recently tapped a single barrel of Amontillado Viejo that was a part of his grandmother’s dowry. The average age of the wine from this solera is 100 years. We were lucky to receive ½ of a case out of the 50 cases of 375mL bottles that made their way to the United States. This ancient, bronze elixir, rich with hazelnut aromas and flavors, should be served at cool room temperature. This wine can be served with a simple goat’s milk cheese like Garrotxa or Garcia de Paredes, but when I open my bottle I’ll be sipping it on its own to inhale and taste every flavor nuance to the fullest.

This wine is available at Formaggio Kitchen South End, or available for pick-up at Formaggio Kitchen Cambridge with one day’s notice.

2012 Domaine Comte Abbatucci “Cuvee Faustine” Rouge 
James Hull, Wine Buyer at Formaggio Kitchen Cambridge

If undeniable character, quality and a little romance are what your wine-lover craves, this standout from Jean-Charles Abbatucci brims with everything the island of Corsica can throw at it. History buffs know Jean-Charles Abbatucci as a heroic general and brother-in-arms to Napoleon, but the current Jean-Charles has become a modern-day hero by expressing Corsica’s unique grapes and terroir with passion and skill. He grows his grapes with a religious commitment to biodynamics and a good dose of eccentricity (he drives his tractor around the vines blaring traditional songs of the island because he believes they’re part of the terroir and keep the vines happy!). The aromas jumping from the glass will make you a believer—layers of wild herbs, juicy cherries and rocky mineral notes swirl around your senses and ignite the imagination. Savor it with Corsican cheese like Corsu Vecchiu, a hunk of salami and the album “Corsica” by Petru Guelfucci.

This wine is available at Formaggio Kitchen Cambridge, or available for pick-up at Formaggio Kitchen South End with one day’s notice. 

2005 CUNE “Contino” Rioja Reserva
Stephen Meuse, Wine Buyer at Formaggio Kitchen Cambridge

Not many wine estates can boast a winery designed by Gustaf Eiffel (of tower fame) and CUNE (kew-nay) is truly an exceptional property in many ways. Located in Haro, at the very heart of La Rioja, Spain, this winery has long enjoyed a reputation for taking a forward-thinking approach while maintaining traditional values—and this elegant wine is a case in point. In a region known for the artful blending of wines from many vineyards, CUNE breeds Contino from the grapes of a single privileged site, established in 1974. Mainly Tempranillo, it benefits from small amounts of Graciano, Mazuelo, and Garnacha Tinta. It is fermented in stainless steel then matured for two years in French and American oak. It sees extended bottle aging before release. Contino shows all the stately charm of mature Rioja, with an abundance of dark red fruits and notes of spruce forest. Tannins are beautifully conditioned and the wine is table-ready. A truly splendid holiday gift for the wine aficionado on your list.

This wine is available at Formaggio Kitchen Cambridge, or available for pick-up at Formaggio Kitchen South End with one day’s notice. 

1979 Kopke Colheita Port
Marianne Staniunas, Formaggio Kitchen South End Wine Department

A Colheita Port is an aged Tawny Port, made from the grapes of a single vintage, aged in wooden casks and released by the winemaker only when it is at its peak—and ready to be relished. Traditionally, a Colheita must be aged for at least seven years, but many winemakers age them for much longer. This year, we were thrilled to receive a limited quantity of a 1979 Colheita from Portugal’s first and oldest Port House—established in Oporto in 1638 by the Kopke family. For any lover of Port, this wine is a must-have once-in-a-lifetime gift.

This wine is available at Formaggio Kitchen South End, or available for pick-up at Formaggio Kitchen Cambridge with one day’s notice. 

Asti Spumante and Panettone – A perfect pair!

Why does food and wine matching seem so difficult, so fraught with opportunity to miss the mark? It’s simple really: we insist on reinventing the wheel, overlooking time-tested pairings that are always spot-on in favor of hit-or-miss improvisations.

High on the list of time-tested culinary hook-ups is the sensational combination of the Italian sweet bread panettone with the subtly sugary, frothy sip known as Asti Spumante. Like many dining room dream teams the two grew up together, in this case in the north of Italy where panettone is the traditional Christmas and New Year treat and Asti Spumante its perennial accompaniment. Together they’re a holiday party waiting to happen–as easy and pleasing a dessert course as you’ve ever served.

Our Cambridge shop is piled high with Paticceria Perbellini‘s exceptional panettone right now, with several kinds choose from – but we’re offering only one Asti Spumante: the most delicious we know!

Torelli “Di Michela” Asti Spumante is available at Formaggio Kitchen Cambridge, or for pick-up at Formaggio Kitchen South End with one day’s notice.

Stephen Meuse is a Wine Buyer at Formaggio Kitchen Cambridge.

Our three-pack of fantastic vintages from Domaine la Bouïssière Gigondas, France

Brothers Gilles and Thierry Faravel make wine in some of the most weirdly beautiful geography in all of France: in Gigondas, one of the crû villages of the southern Rhone Valley and in the very shadow of the rocky outcropping known as the Dentelles of Montmirail. The 30-50 year-old vines at Domaine la Bouïssière yield small amounts of concentrated juice upon which the brothers exercise a self-consciously light touch. Fermentation proceeds via native, resident yeasts and the wine is typically neither filtered nor fined. Use of sulfur is minimal.

We already had the la Bouïssière 2012 on our shelves, but when the opportunity came our way for a consignment of two other recent vintages we jumped at it – admittedly with a view to getting some into our own cellars, but mainly to be able to offer a three-vintage vertical of these splendidly flavorful and textured wines to you.

This is Gigondas as it was meant to be, with brooding black fruit, heaps of loamy earth, and a satisfyingly chewy texture. We found the 2010 the most classic, the 2011 the richest, and the 2012 something of a composite of its predecessors. The pleasure derived from experiencing this three-vintage sampler comes in part from recognizing the powerful consistency of character that can underlie the vintage variation at an elite property. There’s plenty to learn, but its education that comes in the most enjoyable way possible. These are delicious, rewarding wines.

Your Domaine la Bouïssière three-vintage vertical comes in an easy-to-handle cardboard three pack and includes a profile of the property and family with color photographs. Makes a splendid holiday gift for the wine aficionado on your list.

The 2010, 2011 and 2012 Domaine la Bouïssière Gigondas are available at Formaggio Kitchen Cambridge, or for pick-up at Formaggio Kitchen Cambridge with one day’s notice.

Stephen Meuse is a Wine Buyer at Formaggio Kitchen Cambridge.

Ruinart Champagnes on display at Formaggio Cambridge.

We’ve long been enamored with grower Champagnes – those wonderful bubblies that are made and bottled by the very same people who cultivate and harvest the grapes. So trendy have these Champagnes become that it can easily be forgotten that the oldest winemaking tradition in this part of the world involves a relatively small group of specialty establishments who have a different approach to making the world’s premier sparkling wine. Known as the Grandes Marques, these houses rely mainly (but not solely) on grapes and wine purchased from select growers. What they contribute is artful sourcing and blending. These establishments bear some of the most recognizable names in Champagne: among them, Taitinger, Bollinger, Pol Roger, Moët & Chandon, and – the original – Ruinart.

It’s true that not all of these pop stars live up to the hype that attaches to them, but to our palates Ruinart is a distinct exception, offering superlative quality and downright deliciousness throughout the line, including its entry-level cuvées.

This holiday season we’re very pleased to be able to offer Ruinart’s elegant blanc de blancs (all-chardonnay) and rosé Champagnes in the beautiful packaging you see above, ready to bring sparkle and panache to your New Year’s celebrations. We’re sure you will find them as subtle, elegant, and beautifully poised as any Champagne you have ever poured, and a fine way to fill the last days of 2014 with the best drinking of the year.

Available at Formaggio Kitchen Cambridge, or for pick-up at Formaggio Kitchen South End with one day’s notice. 

Stephen Meuse is a Wine Buyer at Formaggio Kitchen Cambridge.

The simple secret to a hard decant: the visual cues are in the blur and the foam.

Decanting wine conjures visions of cobwebby bottles, flickering candles, crystal goblets, and white-gloved butlers. Performed primarily to relieve wines of sediment, the technique that’s known as the soft decant once involved all this and a good deal of practiced skill to boot.

Decanting was once important because wines (especially red Bordeaux wines) were routinely cellared for years in an attempt to moderate tannins and encourage the development of those alluring flavors and aromas we call bottle age. 

Over time molecules of tannin would flocculate (glom together) until they were too heavy to remain in solution, whereupon they would fall to the bottom of the bottle to form a little pile of harmless but not very appetizing debris. A slow, skillful decant left you with lovely clear wine in your crystal decanter while the sediment remained in the bottle.

Today the soft decant is much less frequently seen for the simple reason that it’s less necessary. For one thing, we drink wines at an earlier point in their development, long before tannins have had time to polymerize and create sediment. Also, fining and filtering are more widely and successfully practiced, making “cleaner” wines.

Fresh, modern wines, however, are more likely to come out of the bottle oxygen-starved (the term you’ll see is “reductive”) than wine long-matured in bottle and can for this reason take a bit of time to expressive themselves. Infusing some air will often bring them around quickly, as inventors seem to have learned. All manner of widgets have appeared promising to make our wine more readily drinkable, but if aeration is one key to more immediately expressive wine, why not just familiarize yourself with the technique known as the hard decant?

Everything you need and everything you need to know to perform this maneuver is visible in the photo above: an open bottle of wine; a roomy pitcher of no particular configuration (any of the three shown would do the job – and have); and a tea towel, dish towel, or napkin.

The visual cues to good technique are in the blur and the foam. Remove the closure and in a single motion thrust the neck of the bottle, held almost vertically, deep into the container. Let the wine wantonly gurgle, splash, and swirl as it likes, keeping the neck of the bottle out of contact with the rising wine. The more action the better. It shouldn’t take more than a few seconds and you’re done.

The towel is there to help you do a little mopping up afterward – just in case your butler has the night off.

Stephen Meuse is a wine buyer at Formaggio Kitchen Cambridge, and regularly talks wine on local PBS affiliate WGBH with host Christopher Kimball of America’s Test Kitchen Radio. 

Today, it’s common for people to choose wines the same way they choose movies: by consulting what they consider to be an expert opinion. While it takes the two thumbs of a film critic held way way up to fill seats at the local cineplex, it takes a score of 90 points or better to generate real enthusiasm for a wine.

Over the last 30 years assigning numerical scores on the 100 point scale has become the standard tool for navigating the complicated world of wine. The intent may originally have been a noble one: to free wine buyers from the tyranny of sales people eager to push on them whatever they needed to sell. The point system made it easier for wine buyers to make a choice, but has it made them savvier shoppers, made it more likely they will go home with a wine worth its price, or encouraged the exercise of informed, independent judgment?

I’d argue that our love affair with the point system has had very opposite and unwelcome effects. Instead of promoting the more laudable ends, numerical scores have become the instruments of a new kind of retail tyranny that’s bad for consumers, and the industry too. Why? Scoring diverts attention from the very things that constitute the real glory of wine, including the fine distinctions and nuanced qualities that distinguish one wine from another: its deep attachment to place; its affinity for food; its amazing ability to evolve in the bottle and the glass.

Wine writing in the form that most of us would recognize is a 19th century invention, but it was only in the late 20th century that publications such as Robert M. Parker Jr’s Wine Advocate and Marvin Shanken’s Wine Spectator began to use a 100 point numerical scale to rate wines with a view to giving consumers a precise snapshot of wine quality as they saw it.

Today we scarcely encounter any bottle without a score hung about its neck. The practice is so widespread that many consumers base their wine-buying decisions exclusively on these scores, with the critical break coming at 90 points. With a rating below this wines are hard to sell; at any score above it they sell themselves. At Formaggio Kitchen we don’t buy or sell wine based on points. But in case you’re still addicted to to scores (yes, we see you there by the Barolo shelf checking cellartracker.com), here are a few things you should know about them.

1. Points convey a false sense of precision. 
The late Chicago Sun-Times film critic Roger Ebert only had two thumbs to use in rating movies but wine reviewers have a 100 points to work with – a number that suggests an enhanced degree of precision when appraising that new blockbuster cabernet. In practice virtually every wine receives a score of between 85 (the effective low) and 95 (the effective high) with only an insignificant number falling outside these limits. With only 10 scores actually available to be assigned, it’s clear that there is far less precision in the 100 point scale than first appears.

2. The system has a disturbing margin of error. 
It’s reasonable to assume that due to hills and valleys in wine behavior and variation in taster performance on any given day, a critic may assign one point above or one point below what he or she might have done on another occasion. If true, this means that a wine that scored at 88 one day could easily be rated 87 or 89 on a different occasion. One point in either direction might not seem like a lot, but with only a 10 point spread this amounts to an unconscionable margin of error – or, to put in more scientific terms, a 30% fudgier fudge factor. Looking at it another way, for every wine there isn’t one score but three. Which is the one you can count on?

3. Scoring is a mass-production job. 
Numerical scores from major wine publications are the result of wines being evaluated in large-scale blind tastings – perhaps 100 wines at a time – where there is little time for reflection, no time for a taster to observe evolution in the glass, and no context ordinary tasters would find familiar. Consumers don’t experience wine this way, so why should we think that events of this kind can result in reliably useful indicators?

4. A certain profile routinely scores highly.
In tasting events of the kind I’ve described, the easiest way for a wine to stand out from others is to make an impact, and the easiest way to make an impact is to have exaggerated features. In these competitions, bigger body, more fruit, richer flavors make wines earn higher scores, while qualities such as elegance, restraint, finesse, and poise go begging. Is it any wonder that in the 30 year period in question we’ve seen a dramatic rise in ripeness at harvest, extract, alcohols, and pigmentation? The point system has changed the face of wine.

5. Points are susceptible to grade inflation.
Once the system was fully digested by consumers and industry, benchmarks were gradually established with a 90 score emerging as a gaping crevasse separating the lands of Don’t Bother and Must Have. For ambitious properties and brands, an inability to break the 90 point barrier meant failure and even a degree of shame.

6. It’s too easy for winemaking to become point-making. 
Consumers may be shocked to learn the lengths vintners will go to wheedle a couple of extra points from a critic. The techniques include additives designed to darken color and fatten texture. But the strangest work-around of all has to be the rise of consulting services like Enologix that will analyze your wine, predict the score it will receive, and then advise on how to raise it.

Wine by the numbers?  We’re giving it two thumbs way, way down.

Stephen Meuse is a wine buyer at Formaggio Kitchen Cambridge, and regularly talks wine on local PBS affiliate WGBH with America’s Test Kitchen Radio host Christopher Kimball.

Château des Rontets Saint-Amour Côte de Besset, from Fabio Montrasi and Claire Gazeau.

As the holiday dedicated to love and lovers approaches, Saint-Amour, the northernmost Beaujolais Cru, attracts some attention that it perhaps does not receive at other times of year, for obvious reasons; however, Château des Rontets Saint-Amour Côte de Besset is a bit of a love story in its own right.

In 1995, Fabio Montrasi and Claire Gazeau left architectural careers and city lives to take over the Château des Rontets, which had been in the Gazeau-Varambon family since the 1850s. Most of the parcels of their vineyards fall within the appellation of Pouilly-Fuisse; only two tiny parcels – totalling one half hectare – fall within the village of Saint-Amour.

With the vineyard rising high on an Eastern facing hill, Fabio and Claire follow the traditional practice of gobelet, or weaving the vines into basket shapes. This allows the branches to grow to a fuller extent, while still permitting air, sunshine, and water to move freely among the grapes and leaves, which ultimately gives the grapes more time to ripen on the vines.

Once harvested, Fabio and Claire follow a strict practice of carbonic maceration. Whole clusters of grapes – stems and all – are carefully placed into tanks containing carbon dioxide and left alone for two to four weeks, as fermentation occurs almost exclusively within each individual grape. Fabio and Claire finally press the wine from the grapes when it has reached a state of mortification – when the color of the skin has passed into the pulp of the grape. Pressing at this point intends to make a wine rich in color and soft in tannins. Once pressed, the wine completes alcoholic and malolactic fermentation in large barrels and is bottled at the beginning of summer without any intervention of fining or filtration.

Every sip of the wine is a taste of the love that goes into its creation. Slightly herbaceous and sagey on the nose; silky peaches-and-cream on the palate – hinting at a sweetness that is belied by a finish of perfect acidity.

Marianne Staniunas is a cheesemonger and a member of the Wine Department at Formaggio Kitchen South End, Boston.

Two wonderful Vallana Winery reds — Campi Raudii and Gattinara — at Formaggio Kitchen South End

In the early 1800’s there was a priest in Alto Piemonte whose job it was to keep the cellars of the local bishop filled with wine. As he was getting on in years his niece was coming of age, and on the occasion of her wedding he made a gift to her of a portion of the vineyards he tended. Upon her marriage, his niece became a member of the Vallana family, and the rest . . . is history.

For more background, read part one of this blog series about the Vallana estate.

Just last week Marina Fogarty, of the 5th generation of the Vallana Winery, briefly passed through the Boston area and generously agreed to stop by our South End shop for an after-hours staff tasting. While we sipped through three of her family’s sumptuous offerings, Marina treated us to a lesson in history, geography, and anthropology that added a different kind of depth to her beautiful wines.

As we sniffed, sipped, and swished Campi Raudii (lovely, silky cherry and berry fruits; delicate acidity, gorgeous deep purple color), Marina explained that the soil of the Alto Piemonte region differs starkly from the nearby Langhe region, largely due to a supervolcano – an eruption so powerful that it entirely restructured the mineral composition of the soil. The overall climate, she explained, varies depending on the site of each wine producing village-appellation within Alto Piemonte, with the region’s proximity to the Alps creating numerous microclimates. These determine how the grapes grow, when they ripen and even how acidic their juice will be. The Campi Raudii blends Nebbiolo and Vespolina (one of Alto Piemonte’s indigenous grapes) pulled from several of Vallana’s vineyard sites. Perfectly drinkable without much aging, it highlights the most readily approachable aspects of each annual harvest. Campi Raudii, latin for “Red Field”, refers to the deep rusty color of some of the soil of the region, which was the site of a famous battle of 101 B.C., where the Romans held back the advance of the Germanic Cimbrian tribes invading from the north (and, as Marina noted, possibly prevented the region from becoming known for its beer rather than its wine).

Marina brought with her a bottle from the family’s vineyards in the village-appellation of Boca from the 2007 vintage – a wine none of us had tasted before. As we explored its flavors – richer than the Campi Raudii, with blackberries, a bit of black pepper, and earth; balanced by a deep acidity – Marina placed this wine for us. The northernmost appellation of Alto Piemonte, Boca has tough, rocky soil and mountain exposure, which can lead to challenging, cool growing conditions and late harvesting. Vallana’s interpretation of this wine, a blend of Nebbiolo, Vespolina, and, in this year, a bit of Uva Rara, demonstrates the fact that while some Alto Piemonte producers choose only to use Nebbiolo, appellations within the region are permitted to use some percentages of traditional, local varietals to balance and enhance the Nebbiolo. Vallana frequently does so – both to craft the flavor and ageability profiles they want to see in their wines, and to preserve the traditional winemaking practices of the region.

Finally, we dove into a bottle from the Gattinara appellation from the 1997 vintage. 100% Nebbiolo, with cigar smoke, cloves, and cinnamon on the nose, and a powerful acidity that gracefully eases into soft cherries. Marina explained that 1997 was an old-style, classic vintage for them. She tasted with us – although she had opened another 1997 just the day before – because every bottle has its own personality. “Wine is really alive.” If opened and tasted just after bottling, Marina shared, the wine is often uncomfortable, needing some time to settle into its new confinement. Similarly, once it gets situated, when first opened, it may become cross, taking some time to ease back into the open air. She found this one (breathing for several hours before pouring) strong and rich – and suggested we should seek out some steaks or other hearty, carnivorous fare to share with it.

Humbly but proudly, Marina mentioned that her family was producing village-specific wines many years before these villages were given their official appellations – meaning that Vallana wines defined, in part, the characteristics of these appellations. When asked about her family’s farming and winemaking traditions: “Practical.” So-called “organic” practices are just the way they have always worked; winemaking simply as a part of life – dependent on and in harmony with the dirt, air, water, flora, and fauna of Alto Piemonte.

Vallana Winery’s Campi Raudii and Gattinara are available at Formaggio Kitchen South End, or at Formaggio Kitchen Cambridge with at least one day’s notice.

Marianne Staniunas is a cheesemonger and a member of the Wine Department at Formaggio Kitchen South End, Boston.

When Red Grapes Go White: Hexamer Spätburgunder Weissherbst and Rainoldi Zapel

Pinot Noir, Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Nebbiolo, Tempranillo, Sangiovese. The names of these grapes inspire images of red hues ranging from autumn auburn to vibrant vermilion; tastes of smoke, berries, cherries, and chocolate; textures ranging from tongue gripping to smooth satin. Yet we owe these sensory impressions largely to the skin of these grapes, and the time the juice of each grape spends fermenting in contact with its skin.

We are familiar with the practice of making a white wine from a traditionally red-wine grape when it comes to Champagne, which frequently is made at least in part from Pinot Noir. Outside of this, though, the idea of a white wine with any of the names above seems counter intuitive, or just plain odd.

We have on our shelves, however, two exceptional examples of the white vinification of red wine grapes that may convince you to become color-blind.

Rainoldi’s Zapel is mostly Nebbiolo with a bit of Sauvignon Blanc. Fermented at low temperatures – to enhance the aromatic, fresh characteristics that the grapes naturally lend to the wine – and aged for a few months in stainless steel tanks, this wine is lightly yeasty and lemony on the nose. In your mouth, it feels like biting into a ripe Granny Smith apple – both crisp and full with a good acidity. Just a little basil and sage on the finish make this a wonderful wine to enjoy with meal of simple, delicate flavors.

The 100% Pinot Noir grapes for Hexamer’s Spätburgunder Weißherbst (Spätburgunder is the German name for Pinot Noir) are hand-picked and vinified at very cold temperatures using only natural yeasts. Just a blush of peach in color, with gentle aromas of almonds, this wine is slightly frizzante, bittersweet orange in flavor, and finishes with a tingly bite. While this would be a perfect aperitif, it also would also stunningly compliment some richer desserts – think custards and buttercream-filled pastries.

For a fun experiment – pair one of these head-to-head with its red vinified counterpart and see if you can tease out components of flavor, properties of texture, or other characteristics that are indicative of the juice of the grape and transcend its skin and the winemaking process.

Rainoldi Zapel and Hexamer Spätburgunder Weissherbst 2013 are both available at Formaggio Kitchen South End, or for pick-up at Formaggio Kitchen Camrbidge with one day’s notice.

Marianne Staniunas is a cheesemonger and a member of the Wine Department at Formaggio Kitchen South End, Boston.

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Gnarly 90 year-old grenache vines in the Languedoc

Vieilles vignes is a phrase you frequently see on French wine labels. These are somewhat mysterious words since, though it’s obvious they refer to vines of some advanced age (it literally means old vines), it isn’t immediately clear (a) how old ‘old’ is and (b) why we should care.

The conventional wisdom has it that old vines have an advantage over younger ones because they’ve developed more robust, wide-ranging root systems. It’s true that roots that reach deep into the earth may be able to tap reserves of moisture that in a hot, dry summer wouldn’t be available to vines of less maturity. While this may have an impact on vine survival, it’s not clear that these superannuated plants take advantage of their more developed, deeply-searching roots to make better wine – at least not in a way that’s consistent enough to make a rule of.

On the contrary, there is anecdotal evidence that very young vines can occasionally make startlingly fine wine. The 1973 Stag’s Leap cabernet that bested the bordeaux first-growths Mouton-Rothschild and Haut-Brion in the famous “Judgment of Paris” tasting in 1976 was made from vines only three years old.

There is some thought that vines in their very first bearing year are not as vigorous as they will become and so have a better balance of leaves to fruit. But there’s also the fact that as the older vines grow, the fruit and canopy they produce diminishes and in this way may eventually circle back to the same sort of balance they enjoyed in youth. The lower fruit yields that characterize older plants also figures in: offering more root and vine support for ever-fewer grapes. Very old vines typically yield little fruit. For some this fact alone is sufficient to demonstrate their superiority.

I was listening intently one day recently to David Mitchell of Mise Wines touting the one hundred year-old carignan vines farmed by France Crispeels in the Languedoc and the great character they give her red cuvées. He claims that part of their greatness is that in addition to being vieilles, they are also malades (sick). He argues that by being both old and unhealthy they offer a double advantage to the winemaker. It may be so, but don’t expect to to see wines labeled vignes vieilles et malades any time soon.

Reading about old vine wine is interesting, but tasting them is better. If you’d like to actually sample the character vieilles vignes are capable of pull the cork on some of the following — available at Cambridge and South End locations as indicated.

• Vignobles Reveille “Climax” Cotes de Roussillon – 75% carignan; 25% grenache; average vine age 40 years. Cambridge and South End
• Ostertag Vieilles Vignes Alsace Sylvaner – 100% sylvaner; average vine age 50 years. Cambridge
• Raquillet Vieilles Vignes Mercurey – 100% pinot noir; average vine age 60 years. Cambridge
• Domaine Ledogar “La Mariole” Vin de Pays de l’Aude- 100% carignan; average vine age 100 years. Cambridge
• Clos Centeilles “Carignanissime” Minervois – 100% carignan; average vine age 100 years. Cambridge and South End
• Carl Schmitt-Wagner Riesling Kabinett Herrenberg – 100% riesling; average vine age 100+ years. South End

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Cabernet franc grapes ripening in a Massachusetts vineyard

The hip, cozy watering hole known as Backbar occupies a back room of Journeyman restaurant in Somerville’s Union Square. With its usual team of cocktail jockeys off at a trade event a couple of years ago, then GM Meg Grady-Troia filled the void with a few somms-for-a-day. I was pleased to be asked in. My topic: the true field blend.

The opportunity to assemble a dozen or so of these increasingly unusual wines to taste in a single evening seemed irresistible, but pulling together a representative sampling from Massachusetts distributors proved a challenge.

Today field blend can simply refer to a casual, inexpensive, varietally diverse wine, and this is the way most sales people I spoke to understood it. More precisely it indicates wine made from a single plot where multiple varieties grow together and where the fruit is both harvested all at one time and vinified together — surely the earliest form of viticulture.

This approach is distinguished from a more common process in which grapes harvested from different vineyards are fermented together in a ratio determined by the winemaker (for example in Côte-Rôtie where the red grape Syrah is traditionally fermented with a modest percentage of white Viognier grapes). This is called co-fermentation.

There’s generally no indication on a label to indicate when you’re dealing with a true field blend. To find one it makes sense to start in regions where the tradition has always been to combine varietals, either with a view to providing a more consistent experience from vintage to vintage or to mitigate the risks involved with monoculture.

Field blends are surely the most traditional way of making wine and the approach is still quite strong in Portugal, the Languedoc and the southern Rhone Valley, as well as the extreme north and south of Italy. There are apparently still hundreds of such vineyards in California (Ridge Winery’s Geyserville is the product of one). Alsace has several generic wines in this category including edelzwicker and gentil. Vienna has its prototypical café wine: gemischter satz.

Indeed the notion of single varietal winemaking appears to be a relatively recent phenomenon, with a few notable exceptions. In Burgundy’s prestige vineyards Pinot Noir was established as the sole official option for fine red wine as early as the fourteenth century, but even there Gamay may join Pinot in a blend known as passetoutgrain — which means something like “let all the grapes through.”

In regions where blending is the norm, the standard practice today is to plant each varietal in a discrete plot, harvest and vinify each separately, then treat the various lots as components in a final assemblage (ah-som-BLAHJ). The approach is one that’s a lot like cooking or maybe perfume-making. You select individual ingredients then combine them in proportions you think will result in a pleasing result.

A true field blend not only requires an interplanted vineyard but a bit of nerve. At a time when almost every winemaker is eager to remind you that his wine is “made in the vineyard,” those willing to let the vineyard itself do the blending are few indeed.

Several true field blends grace the shelves at Formaggio Kitchen Cambridge these days. They include Domaine Saladin’s “Cuvée Paul” Côtes du Rhone, Eugenio Rosi’s “Anisos” — a Chardonnay, Pinot Bianco, Nosiola blend from the Trentino region — and Farmers Jane California Field Red.

Have a field day.

Stephen Meuse is a wine buyer at Formaggio Kitchen Cambridge, and regularly talks wine on local PBS affiliate WGBH with America’s Test Kitchen Radio host Christopher Kimball.

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Leitz Rheingau Spatburgunder Weissherbst Sekt Brut

This week we’re featuring one of our new favorite wines made by our friend Johannes Leitz in Germany’s Rheingau region. You may already be familiar with Leitz’s delicious Dragonstone Riesling or his perky Eins Zwei Dry, both bright, refreshing, and easy to love. We’ve recently started carrying Leitz’s lovely Rheingau Spätburgunder Weissherbst Sekt Brut. Simply translated, this long name means a dry, sparkling Pinot Noir from the Rheingau made into white wine. While this fresh Pinot Noir is not completely white, a short three hour maceration on the grape skins lends a barely pink color, and it is perfectly bubbly. The dominant fruit here is deliciously juicy grapefruit, making this a perfect wine to sip on its own before dinner, or with hors d’oeuvres & salads. For Mother’s Day I’m pairing a bottle of this with a big tin of our Bonilla olive oil potato chips!

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“What kind of wine is this?”

“What kind of wine is this?” is a question heard frequently in the Formaggio Kitchen Cambridge wine corner. Wine is categorized and merchandised so many different ways today that it’s not surprising that consumers are confused by our attempts to simplify it.

One way to answer the question is to just look at how shelves in retail shops are arranged. In places where wines are heaped together by country, the response might well be “This is a French wine.” Other outlets shun the nation-state system in favor of a varietal approach, where the answer might be “this is a Chardonnay” or “this is a Cabernet Franc.”

Still others set a regional tack. In these outlets, Burgundy, Bordeaux, Tuscany, and the Mosel inhabit their discrete domains. Some retailers have sections devoted to wines made from organic grapes or wines that are low in sulfites. Wines with high scores from Robert M. Parker, Jr. or Wine Spectator magazine are occasionally given special accommodation. In these places, the answers could range from “this is a Cotes de Beaune” to “This is a 92 point Parker-rated wine.”

It’s not just wine shops that have to do battle with the categorization problem. Restaurant wine lists have to deal with it, too. Here, you’re likely to encounter the same range of alternatives (country, region, variety, color), but sometimes there are interesting twists. I first encountered an approach designed to facilitate food and wine pairing at Les Zygomates in the 1990’s when Lorenzo Savona organized his list under categories like “big, bold reds,” and “crisp, dry whites.”

While this approach is relatively common today, it can still raise an eyebrow – especially when the categories aren’t what you’d call self-explanatory. At Kenmore Square’s Island Creek Oyster Bar, the wine list names “Rusty Whites,” which seems clear enough, alongside “Deep Roots,” which is a little harder to get a handle on (Ancient vines? Ancient varietals? Winemakers who never leave the farm?).

Wine list at Island Creek Oyster Bar

At Belly Wine Bar at One Kendall Square, owner and somm queen Liz Vilardi’s prodigious imagination is frequently seen off the leash. Categories on her current list include beach shades, driving goggles, and the inviting I want to go there.

In some sort of feedback loop, at least one wine shop known to me has adapted the trick for retail and arranged its shelves to create a progression from light to heavier wines, with the more muscular types farther from the door — possibly to discourage them from making a break for it. As an arrangement it doesn’t depend so much on conceptual compartments as on gradual shadings of temperament.

The way we organize wine in shops and restaurants is one thing, the way we organize them cognitively and in our speech seems to be another matter entirely.

For example, so-called natural wines constitute an important category today, even though it’s not really clear what these are or how we go about deciding which wines deserve the descriptor. The category is a legitimate one, but I’ve had to create sub-species to distinguish among the variations – not to say factions — that populate its ranks. I think of some in the movement as idealists, others as folklorists, primitivists, or cosmics. No doubt other shadings exist and only await a nomenclature.

But hang on a bit. There’s lots more. The technological, terroir, traditional, sacramental, and international wines, for a start. Authentic wines are a category, too, to judge from the literature, not to mention Parkerized wines, celebrity wines, and New Californians. There are organically and biodynamically-farmed wines from properties which are certified by some authority. Or not. Wild yeast-fermented seems important enough to constitute a category.

Say, have you got any vegan-friendly wines? Naked wines? Wines made in clay pots? How about high-latitude chardonnays? Reds that love a chill? Fireside companions? Glou-glou? In my days as wine columnist for the Boston Globe, I was once asked by an editor to write a story on “after-beach whites.”

Even in Les Zyg’s clever taxonomy the identity of each wine was front and center. How gobsmacked were we, then, on a visit to the then week-old restaurant Ribelle in Brookline when we saw that Teresa Paopao had furnished her list with descriptions (“light and pretty, delicate acidity, back-n-forth flavors of citrus-n-mineral”), but never revealed the identities of the wines described? That’s right, unless you press the server for the information or twist your neck around to get a peek at the label while she’s pouring it, you don’t actually know what you’re drinking.

In the Ribelle system, every wine seems to be a category in its own right, different in some however small way from every other wine on the list and, presumably, in the world. Seen from one point of this does away with the classification problem entirely – by just ignoring it. Maybe this is how it should be.

A key element of wine talk these days is the enduring, unchanging character of the land. It thrills us to learn that a family, like that of Marc Kreydenweiss in Andlau, Alsace, has been farming some of the same parcels (and living in the same house!) since the 16th century. The land stands still, and some families stay put, but both winemaking and wine consuming remain restlessly busy activities.

And as long as they do, you’ll have to forgive me if after pouring something at the tasting table, I pause long and thoughtfully over the innocent question: “What kind of wine is this?”

Stephen Meuse is a wine buyer at Formaggio Kitchen Cambridge, and regularly talks wine on local PBS affiliate WGBH with America’s Test Kitchen Radio host Christopher Kimball. 

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Turning biodynamically-treated compost at Granton Vineyard in Tasmania. Credit: Mark Smith.

There are a just handful of really hot topics in the world of wine right now and one of them concerns an approach to growing grapes that’s known as biodynamics. One way to describe it is as a set of farming practices that takes organic agriculture to another level and adds a metaphysical twist. But what does it take to make a biodynamic wine, and does biodynamic practice result in a measurably better product?

A bit of history. Biodynamics are the brainchild of the Austrian-born philosopher, social theorist and mystic Rudolf Steiner (1861–1925). Steiner’s most enduring legacy until now has been the Waldorf School approach to education, but he also dabbled in alternative medicine before developing the principles of biodynamic agriculture (he coined the term). And while much of what Steiner had to say about planetary cycles, life forces, and reincarnation seems bizarre or at the very least unverifiable, these notions don’t seem to have limited his appeal to those who have found in biodynamics a practical alternative to conventional agriculture.

Isn’t biodynamics just old-fashioned farming? Not really. While there are some aspects of biodynamics that have similarities with traditional, preindustrial agriculture or are at least in sympathy with it, biodynamics is the 20th century invention of an urban intellectual who really never spent any time on a farm.

How does it actually work? Biodynamic practice begins with the assumption that you are already farming organically and are committed to working without the aid of industrial fertilizers or chemical herbicides and pesticides. On top of this, biodynamics asks you to make use of a series of nine preparations, some of which are sprayed directly on plants or soil, but most of which are applied to compost. They include stinging nettle tea, flower heads of the yarrow plant fermented in a stag’s bladder, and oak bark fermented in the skull of a domestic animal. These preparations needn’t be made on the farm, but can be purchased. The timing of the applications is considered very important. Many farm activities are scheduled to coincide with phases of the moon.

If it sounds a little like voodoo to you, that’s exactly what many of its critics say. For some (me included) the mystery is less what the sprays consist of than that they are applied in such dilute concentrations that they seem too weak to be effective. In this regard they betray a debt to homeopathy.

Is there a scientific basis for biodynamics? The short answer is no, but this may just because we haven’t yet done the research required to say one way or the other. There have been studies done that appear to show that vines in better condition when maintained biodynamically, although yields may be a bit lower.

What any wine grower can see is that biodynamically farmed soils are generally in better condition than conventionally farmed soils, but whether this is attributable to biodynamics or just to the basic improvement brought about by organic farming and the very conscientious nature of persons who take biodynamics seriously is hard to say.

Clearly, no one trained in scientific method is going to be very happy with the more metaphysical aspects of biodynamics, which posit occult forces and cosmic influences that science just doesn’t recognize.

What does biodynamic wine taste like? Since the preparations aren’t put into wine but are only applied to vines or composts, there’s no reason for biodynamic wine to taste different from conventionally-farmed wine. Although some winemakers who have conducted trials on their own properties claim that wine from their biodynamically farmed plots tastes somewhat different than wine from other plots, it’s not likely to be a dramatic difference unless the conventional plots were being very badly farmed to begin with. Our in-store tastings bear out this impression.

Why, then, do some biodynamic wines taste unusual? Biodynamics regulate practices in the vineyard, but don’t have much to say about how wine is processed in the cellar. However, since this approach is very popular with people who carry their interest in natural winemaking into the wine cellar, it’s often the case that biodynamic wine is also made with little to no sulfur. Low-sulfur wines tend to present rather differently from their conventionally vinified counterparts. This is especially the case with white wines that seem to lose fruit and freshness when subjected to the anti-oxidant properties of sulfur.

Is it only off-the-grid types who practice biodynamics? Absolutely not. The number of biodynamic growers seems to be increasing annually and it has a number of devotees among very notable and successful wine properties in France, Germany, Austria, and the United States—including some corporate-owned properties.

How can I identify a biodynamic wine? You can look for a wine that carries a certification indicator on the label. Demeter is the oldest and largest certifying organization. Founded in 1928, it boasts members in many countries and owns a registered trademark on the term biodynamic. A rival certifying group, called Biodyvin, was created in 1995. As is the case with organic practice, many growers aren’t willing to pay for certification or choose not to conform fully to the requirements.

The best way to get the low-down on any particular wine whose provenance you’re wondering about is come by the shop and ask us.

Stephen Meuse is a wine buyer at Formaggio Kitchen Cambridge, and regularly talks wine on local PBS affiliate WGBH with America’s Test Kitchen Radio host Christopher Kimball.

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