“Everybody knows the blackcurrant bush.”
-Le Nez du Vin, Jean Lenoir

Blackcurrant is the most common flavor descriptor of the most popular grape variety in the world: Cabernet Sauvignon. At least the British think so. American wine writers tend to use the term cassis, which is French for blackcurrant.

You may be asking yourself: wait a minute – what’s going on here? I don’t think I’ve ever tasted a blackcurrant in my life, much less seen a blackcurrant bush. Am I supposed to know this? Is Bacchus once again laughing hideously at my woeful ignorance of wine? And when did American wine writers become such Francophiles that they use a French term over a perfectly good English one?

Don’t be so hard on yourself. The reason that virtually all Americans are not familiar with blackcurrant is simple: until recently it was illegal to grow them in the US. Although popular in the 19th century in America, blackcurrants were banned in the early 20th century by the US government; their bushes can carry a disease fatal to white pines that threatened the then booming timber industry. The federal ban was finally lifted in 1966, but it took until 2003 for several states, including Connecticut, New York, Oregon and Vermont, to make it legal to grow blackcurrants in the US again. ¹

OK, but what about American wine writers using French over English? That’s because their exposure to blackcurrant flavor was (and probably still is) through Crème de Cassis, a liqueur made from blackcurrants, which is more commonly known simply as “cassis” in the US.

The British have a huge head start in being able to recognize blackcurrant. One of their most popular children’s drinks is Ribena, which is a sweetened blackcurrant drink. Is there any accident that their favorite wine region is Bordeaux, the homeland of Cabernet Sauvignon? They even have a special name for red Bordeaux wines : claret (which is pronounced with the t since it’s an English term, although derived from French).

I can remember trying to get a grip on blackcurrant when I was living in New York City. Blackcurrant jam and Crème de Cassis were available but I wanted to find a more pure, unadulterated version. The best I could find was a Belgian brand of blackcurrant juice – which must be in the top ten of brand names that do not travel well – called Looza. It never really caught on. Go figure.

In addition to Ribena, British children also enjoy blackcurrant flavored candies. This is where the attractiveness of blackcurrant gets lost on me – the candies seem to taste a little rubbery, rubber as in a Pirelli or a Goodyear. While some British children would eat only the blackcurrant candies in a pack of Maynard’s Wine Gums (interesting name but they contain no wine) I could imagine American children doing just the opposite.

In this way, blackcurrant aromas can be perceived in sulfur compounds in wine that are often considered faults. These volatile sulfur compounds can be pleasant at lower levels (tropical fruit, gooseberry, blackcurrant) but awful at high levels (cat’s pee, burnt rubber, rotten cabbage).² This seems to make sense as it’s not difficult to imagine the funky and gamey qualities of blackcurrant morphing into something foul. Perhaps this dark, potentially dangerous (and smelly) side is what makes blackcurrant so attractive.

We did a tasting of several Cabernet Sauvignons to see which gave us the biggest, purest sensation of blackcurrant. Five California fighting varietals vs. the popular South American, Concha y Toro Casillero del Diablo took part in the smackdown. Each wine’s blackcurrant power is rated on a scale of 1(not detectable) to 10 (total blackcurrant pumptitude).

Concha y Toro Castillero del Diablo Cabernet Sauvignon Chile 2007 $10
Blackcurrants on steroids. It’s easy to spot the blackcurrants dominating some green pepper and vanilla oak notes on the nose and palate in this widely available Cab Sauv. 9/10

Bontera Vineyard Cabernet Sauvignon Mendocino County 2006 $16
The organic entry, this clean, pleasant and fruity wine’s blackcurrant flavors are in the back seat to raspberry and blackberry. 3/10

Robert Mondavi Cabernet Sauvignon Napa Valley 2005 $27
The blackcurrants here are more nuanced and nicely integrated with oak and mint flavors. It’s just too refined for pure blackcurrant pumptitude. 6/10

Sebastini Cabernet Sauvignon Sonoma County 2005 $16
A very attractive nose, blackcurrants and violets with a touch of oak. The fruit is very concentrated but the violets distract too much – albeit in a good way – to give it more than an eight. 8/10

Hawk Crest Cabernet Sauvignon California 2005 $14
This was the most subdued of the bunch with blackcurrant a virtual no-show. It’s much more sour cherry, cedar and Dr. Pepper. 2/10

Ravenswood Cabernet Sauvignon Vintner’s Blend California 2004 $10
Juicy blackcurrant with notes of black cherry and oak, the Ravenswood is a simple wine but it matches the Concha y Toro in blackcurrant intensity. 9/10

It was probably a forgone conclusion that the most inexpensive wines of the bunch would provide the simplest, most fruit-forward expression of blackcurrants. It’s a funny way to taste: we weren’t interested in balance, subtlety or nuance. We also kept referring back to our reference aromas: bottles of Crème de Cassis and Ribena. Still, it’s nice to know that you can get a good idea of what blackcurrant tastes like without shelling out too much; or enduring the embarrassment of buying a bottle of Looza.

¹ For more information about blackcurrants and their history see black-currant.com

² For more information about wine faults and blackcurrant flavors see Jamie Goode’s Wine Anorak and Tom Stevenson on the Wine Pages

On behalf of our crack map team, I apologize for the delay in releasing our California Wine Map. It will now be available March 24th. The saddest part is that the map’s been 99% done for the past month and a half . It’s as if we’re trapped in Zeno’s paradox. Or more aptly, that we’ve checked out but can never leave. . .

In the meantime, here’s a small chunk of the map around Ventura Highway. It may come as a surprise that Malibu has two official wine regions – Saddle Rock-Malibu and Malibu-Newton Canyon. Was this the result of Malibu Ken and Malibu Barbie splitting up?

An expanded hardbound version of our Wine Tasting Notebook will be in stock this coming Tuesday, December 9th. It has 160 pages with the Wine Tasting Terms as a pullout in the back of the book and will retail for $14.95. If you would like advanced notice that this is available as well as a 20% discount, please drop a line at our contact page.

As soon as we released our first wine map – of the Iberian Peninsula – I started getting emails like this: “Dude, when are you going to do a California Map?”

For some reason, I was under the impression that a bunch of good California wine maps were already available. Amazingly, I couldn’t find one that was both up to date and – all importantly – suitable for framing.

We’ve delayed work on France/Germany to expedite California, which will be available in late January. It will be 24×36 inches just like the Iberian Peninsula map and the Wine Grape Varietal Table and will retail for $29.95. Please don’t scrutinize the image too much as this is still a work in progress. Dude!

The one and only Clark Smith is on the hot seat this week at Enobytes.com. Stop by to ask him any question concerning wine making, the wine industry or just to see the discussion. For those of you who don’t know him, he owns the world’s largest wine consulting company – Vinovation – and is perhaps one of the most misunderstood and interesting people in the wine world today.

Go to the discussion

In his words:

It will be a free form, multi-topic discussion where I take questions on any subject. I’ll field questions on wine technology from my usual frank perspective.

I’ll also discuss my recent decision to license out the Vinovation service business and devote myself to characterizing and chronicling for Appellation America all 307 U.S. and Canadian appellations. Thus we will be able to discuss what regional diversity I’m encountering and the factors that cause wines to express themselves differently in different regions.

We started with Spain and Portugal for 3 main reasons:

1. It’s the most dynamic (and constantly changing) area in the wine world today
2. There wasn’t a good map currently available (for France there are a few)
3. It’s a great looking land mass!

This is simply the only up to date wine map of the region now available!

The one very simple thing that distinguishes our approach to wine maps is that the wine regions don’t stop at the border. In reality, wine regions reflect the regional differences that underlie the country borders. Catalunya and the Basque Country which both overlap France and Spain are just two examples.

We’re working on France and Germany right now which will be available early next year. Then on to Italy. And then to the New World!

A big thanks to my graphic designer brother Mark who is mainly responsible for how good the the map looks and to Gabriella and Ryan Opaz of Catavino fame for their huge help in fact checking.

The Wine Map of Iberia is currently available in our online shop for $29.95 and will soon be available on amazon.com and fine shops everywhere. They will also be available in Spain and Europe from Catavino in a few weeks.

We were in New York City last week for a wedding and the 2006 Stadlmann Rotgipfler was one of the wines flowing freely. The newlyweds are serious foodies so their choice of the latest, coolest and most obscure grape variety wasn’t too much of a surprise. It’s on all the coolest wine lists: Terrior, WD-50 and sold at the coolest shops: Crush and Harlem Vintage. Still, I had never tried it before and as the President of the Wine Century Club that is practically dereliction of duty.

So what is it like? OK, it was a wedding so I didn’t take notes but I remember it being very aromatic, minerally, grapefruit-citrus – almost like Gruner Veltliner – but more peachy and less peppery. In short, it was an excellent choice – well balanced, elegant but with lively enough acidity to make it food-friendly.

Rotgipfler is also a fairly rare grape variety, with only 292 acres grown in its home in the Thermenregion of Austria and most likely the entire world. Fortunately, the obscurity factor now translates into the value factor with the Stadlmann going for about 15 to 20 bucks.

http://www.stadlmann-wein.at

The New York Times and Slate.com don’t capitalize the names of grape varieties but practically everyone else does. What, then, is the correct usage?

This may seem a little geeky or pedantic but it’s important for anyone who writes about wine. I seem to revisit this question every couple of years without satisfaction. This year, however, I believe I finally have the answer thanks to some online research and a series of emails with Tyler Colman AKA Dr. Vino.

Since neither Tyler or I have the book, the assumption is that the New York Times Manual of Style and Usage says not to capitalize grape variety names. Thus not knowing what they base their no-caps decision on, we turned instead to Wikipedia to investigate naming conventions in botany and found some interesting things:

from the Variety (Botany) page:

In viticulture, what is referred to as “grape varieties” are in reality cultivars rather than varieties according to usage in the International Code of Nomenclature for Cultivated Plants, since they are propagated by cuttings and have properties that are not stable under sexual reproduction (seed plants). However, usage of the term variety is so entrenched in viticulture that a change to cultivar is unlikely.

Ok, since it’s actually a cultivar, I went to the Cultivar page to see how they’re named:

A cultivar name consists of a botanical name (of a genus, species, infraspecific taxon, interspecific hybrid or intergeneric hybrid) followed by a cultivar epithet. The cultivar epithet is capitalised and put between single quotes: preferably it should not be italicized. Cultivar epithets published before 1 January 1959 were often given a Latin form and can be readily confused with the specific epithets in botanical names: after that date, newly coined cultivar epithets must be in a modern vernacular language to distinguish them from botanical epithets.

Cryptomeria japonica ‘Elegans’
Chamaecyparis lawsoniana ‘Aureomarginata’ (pre-1959 name, Latin in form)
Chamaecyparis lawsoniana ‘Golden Wonder’ (post-1959 name, English language)
Pinus densiflora ‘Akebono’ (post-1959 name, Japanese language)

The technically correct nomenclature for a grape variety would then be: Vitis vinifera ‘Cabernet Sauvignon’. It would be unnecessarily pedantic to include Vitis vinifera each time we write about grape varieties so what then is the proper way to condense the name? Should they be capitalized or not?

Based on this research, I’m going to continue to capitalize grape varieties. If it’s good enough for Jancis Robinson, Hugh Johnson, Robert Parker, Maynard Amerine and Emile Peynaud, it’s good enough for me.

Tyler (a die hard New Yorker), however, isn’t swayed by this evidence and will continue to not capitalize grape names along with the Times.

What do you think? Cabernet Sauvignon or cabernet sauvignon?

I just got back from a trip to Rome with a bitter taste in my mouth. No, it wasn’t a bad trip or anything like that. It’s just that amazing bitter aftertaste in so many Italian wines both red and white. Is there any country that does bitter better than the land of Campari and coffee? Venezuala, the birthplace of Angustora bitters, might run a distant second but they don’t exactly produce a whole lot of wine.

It got me thinking; if bitter is a flavor so associated with Italy and their wines, what flavors are characteristic of other classic wine producing countries? Since I think in charts, the Venn diagram above is the result of this line of thought and is very loosely based on the Greek classical elements of earth, air, fire and water. In a similar way, it’s an archaic way of thinking about flavors but flavor chemistry still doesn’t seem too advanced. Otherwise artificial strawberry Jello would seem more convincing!

Bitter – Italy
Not all Italian wines have a bitter nuances but a remarkable number do. Perhaps more remarkable is that the bitterness is controlled remarkably well. Bitterness comes from the stems, seeds and skins where tannins also come from, so it seems that it would also be accompanied by some astringency. But this is not the case; either the bitterness is characteristic of the grape variety used, in the wine making process or a little of both. I would tend to think it’s a little of both as the Italians really seem to have bitter perfected. One standout on the trip was a 2004 Sergio Mottura “Muffo” produced with gotrytized Grechetto grapes, it was very Sauternes-like but with apricot, peach and orange peel flavors. But the amazing and wonderfully unusual part was the very long, bitter orange finish – who needs a Campari after this wine?!

Oxidized – Spain
At the Wines from Spain convention last month in London, I attended a tasting seminar “What Place is there for Tradition in the Modern Spanish Wine World?” The wines selected included an 1981 Lopez de Heredia Gran Reserva Blanco and 3 Sherries. There really wasn’t any conclusion about the role of tradition today but there was a definite consensus that tradition in Spain means oxidation. Two Hidalgo Manzanillas were compared to illustrate this: the fresher cleaner style La Gitana is made for the contemporary palate but would be considered much too young to previous generations of Sherry drinkers; they would have preferred the Pastrana, a Manzanilla Pasada that has some age and oxidation on it. Lopez de Heredia was presented as a link to the history of Spanish winemaking with their oxidative style earning the respect of enthusiasts if not exactly the contemporary palate.

Mineral – Germany
Germany isn’t the only country with mineral qualities in their wine (that’s why it’s a Venn diagram with overlaps people!) but slatey steely Riesling seems to make it a hub of minerality.

Earthy – France
Terroir is French for soil. Even if you believe that terrior is a bunch of nonsense, it’s difficult to deny the soft earthy pleasures of many traditional French wines. Besides, what country has ever has really ever embraced “poopy” as a positive flavor description? Viva la France!

Switzerland fits neatly in the center as a neutral zone, hygenically canceled out by the overlaps. Yes, how convenient! I base this not so much on my limited experience with Swiss wines but on three factors: 1. Switzerland’s tradition of neutrality; 2. I have an uncle who claims Swiss whites taste like rain; 3. my son’s godfather is Swiss and a teetotaler.

In full disclosure, I have to say that I’m a old world kind of guy and thank Bacchus for mineral, earthy, oxidixed and bitter flavors. Fruit is nice but funk gives wine soul.

“I’ll be pouring some excellent Cab Francs today.”

Whatever happened to “We’re tasting some excellent Cab Francs today?” Everyone seems to be pouring everywhere these days. Am I the only person who thinks that this sounds strange? What would the equivalent be with chocolate chip cookies? “I’ll be placing some excellent chocolate chip cookies today?”

Perhaps it’s the “me” part – I’ll be pouring – that seems odd. It’s a little like when a waiter says “my marzipan is really delicious” or “I’ve got some amazing Chimichangas.” I’m sure you do. Or maybe it’s just that the term pouring seems to imply vast amounts of liquids gushing forth as in “it’s not just raining, it’s pouring!”

Pouring wine rapidly and in huge volumes doesn’t seem to be strange at all on the internet; in fact it’s de rigueur. A quick browse around most wine sites reveals wine being poured in ways that would put NASA velocity tests to shame. Is the subject really so boring that it needs to be tarted up by pushing the limits of fluid mechanics? Are the stock photo people really that bored? Was a stunt sommelier employed for any of these shots? Do I hear Eric Burdon and War playing Spill the Wine somewhere?

Obviously there are a lot of unanswered questions here, so before I really scare myself and become Andy Rooney, the candidates for the most Extreme Pour of 2007 (in no apparent order) are:

Kapture Group Inc.

Not a wine site, but the Kapture Group sells equipment to help capture moments of vinous mayhem like the typhoon in a glass pictured here.

New York Times

Eric Asimov’s blog is called The Pour so it should come as no surprise that they have a strong entry. A real study of contrasts here as a heavy rope of wine appears to be breaking the surface of an otherwise tranquil glass. Sediment be damned – get it in the glass!

Nat Decants

Is that a giant red wine Cobra threatening Natalie MacLean’s wholesome head? Watch out Natalie!

67 Wine

Not a lot of action here but a lot of wine. Do still waters run deep? The half-full half-empty debate certainly has no room here. No! Fill it to the brim! Let it be known that the people of 67 Wine are not stingy!

Dining on the Vine

Given the apparent lack of gravity, I would call this site Dining on the Moon instead of Dining on the Vine. Is that a bottle or a hose? Waiter, please bring me the 1990 La Tâche and a mop!

Royal Doulton

The quintessential British tableware maker weighs in with a classic Poseidon Adventure pour. Either that or they’re introducing a line of Chablis coloured baby Baboons in crystal.

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