Hogue Fume Blanc 2008

I've been following Hogue Cellars

since I first started exploring Washington wines. I've been intrigued by the dryer Sauvignon Blanc style that's often marketed as Fume Blanc since trying the Bernard Griffin Fume Blanc last year. This particular bottle of Hogue Cellars Fume Blanc 2008 was an impulse buy when we spotted it on the shelf at a local convenience store for $6.99.

Hogue Cellars Fume Blanc is a lovely pale gold, with just the faintest hint of green in the glass, and more tart than floral on the nose, this is a Sauvignon Blanc that's on the dry side. It's less melon or tropical fruit, and more green apple, of the tartly sweet Granny Smith sort. It's a 12.5% ABV, and while quite drinkable on its own, this is a wine that's awfully fun to pair with food—especially in this dryer style. It's a little more green-apple than the 2007 Barnard Griffin Fume Blanc that I favor, but I think Hogue Cellar's Fume Blanc would do very well indeed with crab, especially local Dungeness crab, and I'd like to try it with a smoked salmon chowder. Hogue hasn't seen fit to update their Web site since 2005, so I don't know for sure—but I suspect that this Fume Blanc is a blend with Semillion. I notice that Semillion is frequently blended with Sauvignon Blanc, which, I confess reminds me that I need to start trying Washington Semillion. I've been putting it off because of one, rather unpleasant Semillion, but I am going to reform.

Williamsburg Winery

The Williamsburg Winery in historic Williamsburg, Virginia has been cultivating vines since 1985. While its products don't yet stand up to the best of American viticulture (for that you'll have to look to California and Oregon), now is actually a great time to taste what the state of Virginia has to offer. It's easy enough for wine lovers to find the finest, most refined bottles in the world. It's another thing entirely to taste a great wine of the future in the middle of its maturation. That's the current appeal of Williamsburg Winery. It is the flavor of a wine that is soon to be stunning.

Today, the Williamsburg Winery produces a modest amount of both red and white wine, primarily using Merlot grapes. They have 25 bottle varieties, many of them blends. Honestly, most of the only worthwhile attraction currently among those 25 are the limited reserves that make the best of their fertile soil and oak barrel aging. Most of what the Williamsburg Winery bottles can be best described as local table wine, lacking in the complexity and character of older, more exacting wines. Despite the best efforts of Thomas Jefferson, Virginia was never much of a grape-growing region. Tobacco took up much of the state's farm land for luxury products. If it weren't for some of the more promising vintages at Williamsburg, it would be tempting to write off Virginia as a bad locale for wine.

Of Williamsburg Winery's white varieties, only one really stands out as potential winner. Their James River is, surprisingly, a blend that has a lot of fun notes in it. Its mild dryness sets the stage for a nicely matched floral note and citrus note, like lavender sprayed with fresh lemon juice. It practically begs to be paired with light, flaky fish or the summery side of Mediterranean cuisine. Given time to perfect the balance and focus the finish, the James River white could be a real commodity.

The same cannot be said for the winery's top-selling Governor's white or its attempt at a barrel-aged white in its Seyval Blanc. The former is a roundly unpleasant experience, starting with its disconcertingly sour nose and finishing with a lingering, unnatural aftertaste. Meanwhile, the Seyval has no character whatsoever. It hits the tongue with a momentary sting and then disappears completely, overshooting its mark in a quest for a refreshing arc.

Williamsburg Winery's reds fare a bit better. The economical Two Shilling red will be almost laughably sweet and fruity for most red wine drinkers, though it does rather well as the base for sangria. For a more middle-of-the-road red, the J. Andrews Merlot is a varietal that sports a leathery undertone without much complexity on top of it. It might do well with lamb or as an alternative to beer with grilled foods. If one Williamsburg red is going to go places, it's the Gabriel Archer Reserve. It has a near perfect body with a classic three-note flavor of blackberry, oak and fire. If one must drink Virginia wine with steak, this is the one to choose.

Lastly, steer clear of Williamsburg's dessert wines. The Vin Licoreux varieties are especially egregious, attempting Framboise flavors and getting only sickly sweet syrups for the trouble. Dessert wine requires gentle frosts or stable brandy, neither of which are hallmarks of Virginia.

Hogue Cellars, Prosser Washington

The Hogue Cellars winery was founded in 1982 by two brothers, Mike and Gary Hogue. Hogue Cellars is run from Prosser, Washington, in the heart of Eastern Washington's wine country, and is the third largest winery in the state. Today, Hogue Cellars is owner by Canadian conglomerate Vincor International. Vincor is a division of the world's largest wine company, Constellation Brands, who also owns Inniskillin, Robert Mondavi, Hardys, Clos du Bois, Blackstone, Estancia, Ravenswood, Jackson-Triggs, Kim Crawford, and Nobilo wineries. Hogue's winemaker is Jordan Ferrier, who has held the position for several years. Hogue is one of the largest wineries in the state producing over 450,000 cases annually. They have good distribution, both within and without the state; Hogue Cellars is one of the few Washington wineries whose entire range of wines is fairly easy to find even in New England.

Hogue Cellars have three ranges of wines, all of which are produced from Washington grapes. The lowest tier is eponymous Hogue, followed by Hogue Genesis, and, at the top, Hogue Reserve. Their wines include Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Merlot/Cabernet Sauvignon, Shiraz, Gewürtztraminer, Riesling, Late Harvest Riesling, Chenin Blanc, Chardonnay, Pinot Grigio, and Fume Blanc. The Genesis range uses selected vineyards, and includes Genesis Riesling, Genesis Cabernet Sauvignon, and Genesis Merlot. Their Reserve range includes Reserve Chardonnay, Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon, and Reserve Merlot.

When I first moved to Washington, the wine buyer at my old Trader Joe's told me to look out for Hogue wines; he said they were fruit-forward "in a good way," and that he felt Hogue Cellars managed to present the ideal Washington wine profile, even in their budget tier. It's been fun trying their wines; so far, I've been pleased. I also like the fact that Hogue uses screw-caps or Stelvin caps on all their bottles; no corks.

Concha y Toro Frontera Carmenere Valle Centrale Chile 2003

I've been deliberately looking at Chilean wines since the earthquake last February, and especially, for Carménère from Chile. Locally, the best place to look for new world wines is at one particular grocery store, or at Trader Joe's. I haven't had a chance to go to either, yet, and this particular bottle of Concha y Toro Frontera Carmenere Valle Centrale Chile 2003 was a bit of a surprise find. Frontera is the easiest Chilean wine to locate in the U.S., and it's a good entry point to the rest of the wines from Concha y Toro.

Carménère, true to its Bordeaux region ancestry is frequently blended. This particular bottle is a blend containing 10% Cabernet Sauvignon, and 5% Shiraz. The Cabernet Sauvignon does add some structure to the wine, and I suspect the Shiraz was added to mellow out the tannins in this otherwise dry wine. It's a gorgeous dark crimson in the glass, with a hint of toast and something herbal on the nose. I wasn't expecting a lot, frankly, but this was rather nice— spicy and slightly herbacious, with a hint of toasted grain. I'm probably going to horrify you all, but it reminds me a bit of Malbec, with a hint of vanilla rather than the anise I associate with Malbec.

Concha y Toro Frontera Wine

Concha y Toro winery is located in Chile. To be more precise, in several large sections of Chile; Concha y Toro consists of over 11 thousand acres spread between the primary wine producing regions of Chile, in Maipo, Maule, Rapel, Colchagua, Curico, and Casablanca. The area is protected by natural barriers— the Atacama Desert, the driest in the world, to the north, the glacial Ice Fields in the south, the Pacific ocean to the west, and the Andes in the east. Concha y Toro is the largest producer of wine in Latin America. The Concha y Toro Vineyard was founded by Melchor Santiago de Concha y Cerda and his wife, Emiliana Subercaseaux, in 1883. The initial plantings were of traditional varieties from France's Bordeaux region, consisting of Cabernet Sauvignon, Sauvignon Blanc, Semillon, Merlot, and Carménère.

In 2008, Concha y Toro ranked as the third most powerful wine brand in the world, after Gallo and Hardy's, and before Robert Mondavi, and Yellowtail. today, Concha y

Toro produces more than 11 distinct lines of wine, in a wide variety of red and white and rosé blush wines. The varietals include Cabernet Sauvignon, Cabernet Blush, Merlot, Merlot Rosé, Carmenere, Chardonnay, Sauvignon Blanc, a Late Harvest white, and Shiraz.

Frontera, Sendero, Casillero del Diablo, and Don Melchor are probably the best known and easiest to find in the U. S. Frontera is the table wine tier. Sendero was initially created for distribution in Canada, but I've seen the $10.00 or so bottles in Washtington state grocery chains and wine shops. I've also started seeing bottles of the Xplorador line, too. The higher-tier Don Melchor line has repeatedly scored over 90 in Wine Spectator, and in 2008 Don Melchor Cabernet Sauvignon was #12 in the Wine Spectator Top 100 wines. It has been repeatedly described as the best Cabernet Sauvignon from Chile by Robert Parker, and Wine Spectator. Frontera is the table wine tier of Concha y Toro, and I've spotted several bottles locally, all in the $5.00 to $10.00 range. Frontera is available in a wide range of varietals, and I'm especially interested in trying the Concha y Toro Frontera Carménère.

Carmenere

Carménère was, in the mid 1800s, a staple of French Bordeaux wine blends (in combination with Cabernet Sauvignon, Cabernet Franc, Merlot, Malbec and Petit Verdot). The Carménère's simultaneously herbal and spicy qualities provided a pleasant contrast for the other wines in the traditional Bordeaux blend, though it was prized as much as for the deep red color (the name Carménère is cognate with carmine, a deep vibrant red—though the name seems to be inspired more by the deep red of the grape vines in fall). Carménère was successfully planted in Chile, where the original French stock thrived, and frequently, grew alongside Merlot vines.

France was hard-hit in the latter half of the nineteenth century with phylloxera, the Root Louse, an insect that destroyed thousands of vines in France, and that some grape varietals never really recovered. For a long time, Carménère was so decimated by phylloxera that it was somewhat forgotten. But the grape thrived in Chile, where it was sometimes mistaken for a late-ripening version of Merlot, and indeed, the vines were frequently allowed to intermingle on older plantings. The two are quite possibly distantly related, and look so strikingly similar that even experts resort to genetic testing to be sure. Today, Chile is the largest grower of Carménère, especially in Chile's Colchagua Valley, Rapel Valley, and Maipo Province. Smaller crops of Carménère are grown in Eastern Washington, in the Walla Walla Valley, in California, and in Italy. There are limited plantings in Australia and New Zealand (where the Carménère starts were thought to be Cabernet Franc).

To my admittedly naive and ignorant palate, Carménère is reminiscent of a slightly milder, flatter Malbec—and that's not a slam at either wine, just an aside. I've had the Oops Carménère, and have been looking for another, particularly since I think one way we can help Chilean wineries recover is to buy Chilean wine—and Chile still very much has the market for Carménère.

Grape Vines

I was only dimly aware of Grape Vines until recently, when I went tracking down a particular variant of Red Vines.  

(Still no luck finding the all-natural version, Natural Vines, by the way.  The Red Vines website says they're available at Haggen stores here in Washington.  I visited my nearest local Haggen store (20 miles away) and they didn't have any.  But they did have the authentic Haribo black licorice wheels imported from Germany.  

I meant to bring them home and photograph them and write a review, but I ate them all on the drive home and then I had a tummy ache but I was not sorry.  So I guess that's my review of imported Haribo licorice wheels: too delicious to wait until you get home.)

Anyway, as I was trying to track them down, I kept noticing that Grape Vines were consistently listed as "out of stock."  And that the official Red Vines Twitter stream was informing people when Grape Vines were restocked at various retailers.  So obviously Grape Vines are a pretty big deal to some people!

I had never actually tried Grape Vines.  Every time I saw some, they were always sitting beside a box of Red Vines.  And since I like Red Vines, the Red Vines actually won.

(One more digression: speaking of Red Vines winning, the last time I went to Safeway they had both Red Vines and Twizzlers on sale 50% off.  Every single package of Red Vines was gone, but about half the Twizzlers remained.  Which is as certain a public referendum on Red Vines vs Twizzlers as you could possibly want.)

I kept an eye out for Grape Vines, and finally spotted a pack at the small store in town.  It's one of those stores that's bigger than a convenience store, but smaller than a real grocery store.  If you happen to be in La Conner, Washington and you have a hankering for Grape Vines, check the Pioneer Market!

When I opened the package and the smell wafted out, I was hooked.  Grape Vines smell like grape soda and grape Bubble Yum and childhood and happiness.  Grape isn't a flavor that you find very often these days, which is a shame.  

The taste is slightly less grape-y than the smell, which frankly may be a good thing.  Don't get me wrong; they're still plenty grape.  But the smell is a little overwhelming.  The actual candy has a flavor that is much lower on the scale of candy flavors than the smell, which is very bright and high-pitched, if that bit of synaesthesia makes any sense.

Grape Vines have all the other qualities that make Red Vines great: the sturdy texture, the lack of fat and preservatives, the simple ingredients, and the overall deliciousness.  But combine the unusual grape flavor with the relative rarity of the product, and you've got something special.  I don't half wonder if I shouldn't hustle back to the store, buy out all their Grape Vines, and flip them on eBay for a tidy little profit!

Columbia Crest Grand Estates Pinot Grigio 2008

I honestly don't think you can go wrong with Columbia Crest. It's astonishing that they manage to produce two tiers of inexpensive wine in such large quantities at such high quality. They seem to own the Washington Merlot table wine market with their Grand Estates Merlot, and the fame at having their 2006 Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon picked as #1 by Wine Spectator obviously isn't harming their over-all reputation for quality and price point miracles.

This particular Columbia Crest Grand Estates

Pinot Grigio was an impulse buy, since we were looking for a wine to go with dinner, and hadn't tried it. We found it at a local Fred Meyer for a mere $6.99. In the glass, this Pinot Grigio is a pretty straw color, verging on light gold in the glass, and has a noticeably fragrant aroma. I know I'm suppose to talk about floral notes, but honestly, there was a hint of something like honey, or possibly caramel, on the nose. Shoot me if you must; but I swear it's there. The flavor is crisp, and mild, and a bit like barely ripe white peaches, with a hint of slightly sweetened rhubarb in the finish (maybe I'm not cut out for wine reviews . . . ). It was a perfect summer wine combination with lightly fried skinless chicken breast, and fresh dill potato salad. We're planning on trying Columbia Crest Grand Estates Pinot Grigio with dolmades as a light first course. It's a 12.5 ABV.

I noticed (how did I miss this?) that Columbia Crest now offers Pinot Grigio in their first tier Two Vines wines. I'll definitely be trying it as well. The Press Release, for the curious, is here.

Riesling Ratings

Mention Riesling to most wine drinkers, and they'll think Germany, or South Africa, and if they're savvy,

Washington state. Riesling made its initial reputation in Germany, and moved from there to South Africa and Washington, among other places. But the nomenclature for those of us who are not native German speakers can be more than a little confusing. Add to that the fact that some label conventions, like "Johannesburg Riesling" have been discontinued for reasons of appellation appropriation and legality. The German labeling system is carefully explained here, but in broad terms it groups Rieslings by how much sugar the wines contain; that's all well and good. But while the terms are used on German made and bottled wines, they are rarely explained, even in German, and not at all in English. We're talking labels like:
  • Kabinett, for light dry wines.
  • Spätlese, which ranges from dry to sweet.
  • Beerenauslese for sweet, darker colored dessert wines made from hand-selected grapes affected by the Botrytis mold, making them extremely dense and sweet.
  • Auslese, wines made from very specific harvests, and hand-selected grapes bearing Botrytis.
  • Trockenbeerenauslese, quite rare and made from individually selected berries allowed to dry on the vine; these wines are rare and sweet and as dense in color and flavor as honey.
  • Eiswein, made from grapes that have frozen on the vine, and are picked and processed in that state, making a sweet dessert wine.

Often, the wine label doesn't even bear the entire German word, but uses an abbreviation, following the geographic apellation, like BA for Beerenauslese. And there's more; these terms refer to the wine style; there's an additional label, and sometimes even a number, to indicate how much sugar remains in the wine; a dry Riesling will be labeled "Trocken," an off-dry wine "Halbtrocken," (German for "half-dry," meaning "off-dry"), etc. It's quite complicated. This is, understandably, a little confusing for Americans, particularly buying American Rieslings from Washington and Oregon.

Washington's Pacific Rim winery, which produces about eleven Riesling varieties, including dry, sweet, sparking, organic and biodynamic, created a graphic it's been putting on the back of their "core" rieslings, the Pacific Rim Dry Riesling, the Riesling, and the Pacific Rim Sweet Riesling. It's a nifty graphic; you can see it in the image at the top. The International Riesling Foundation liked the Pacific Rim so much, that they've proposed the graphic be used on Rieslings from other wineries.

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