I often complain about the homogeneity of “Big Wine” brands, but this Gallo brand Chardonnay is just weird.
The nose is dominated by apricot notes, unusual in Chardonnay, although the floral and slight butter notes are more traditional. The palate has obvious sugar up front and vaguely topical, guava-like flavors, with a woody background, but the fruit fades on the finish which shows too much exposed acidity and disjointed bitter notes. The midpalate creaminess is pleasant but the texture hardens as the fruit fades. I must say I haven’t tasted a Chardonnay quite like this but the experience is not entirely pleasant. The finish manages to be both cloying and bitter.
An acceptable table wine with dishes that have some sweetness, I found pairing it with the weird, disjoint but pleasing Animal Collective’s Lion in a Coma makes it seem less sugary.
A winsome face belies subterranean nervous energy in this warm weather Chardonnay.
Pretty aromas of pear, apple and hazelnut are caressed by lemon highlights. In the mouth the creamy introduction morphs into a pure spring-water seam that sits on top of a granular foundation. A kiss of shy oak appears on the medium length finish that shows bitter herbal notes and a snap of electric minerality.
Very dry and crisp, it is textural complexity that makes this wine appealing. The kinetic, granular texture emerges slowly making the wine seem strident like a string drawn too tightly, suggesting pent up potency despite the ingratiating smile.
Sun kissed but not too ripe, a bit of oak but restrained, this wine is neither underdressed nor overdone. A good effort.
Pacific Crest Wine Co. is a division of Wine Trees and AWDirect, a wine conglomerate with a global reach specializing in developing innovative brands.
Kraftwerk’s Vitamin HD isn’t pretty but it captures the electric energy of this wine.
Clos du Bois helped put Alexander Valley on the wine map in the 1970’s. Today it is a large production winery, part of Constellation’s stable. This entry-level Chardonnay has a bright, sunny personality but lacks distinction, getting the job done but without panache.
A nose of butter, pear and pineapple with obvious oak suggests a very traditional California supermarket Chardonnay. In the mouth it’s creamy upfront with lemon hints but turns watery at midpalate and acquires some bitterness on the finish although there is a salty note that pleases. The acidity is fresh and bracing ; the mineral layer on the mid-palate gives the wine some interest and it feels light on the palate but the finish is disjoint. It shows sweet hints up front but finishes dry. A bit spare, certainly no blockbuster but will work nicely with scallops basted in brown butter.
A throwback deserves a throwback. Seals and Crofts “Summer Breeze” pulls the personality of this wine together.
A classic cheap Chardonnay from California, this shows ripe pear, melon, and a little butterscotch. It’s advertised as “sunshine in a glass” and that is exactly what it is. Bright, ebullient, almost aggressive fruit, with obvious sweetness, full bodied, with lots of weight, but sour acidity that causes the finish to fall apart—bold and clunky but suitable as a beach wine.
I chose to review this because it was designated as an excellent test case for the claim that the music you play while drinking a wine can influence how it tastes. This thesis is advanced by winemaker Clark Smith, author of Postmodern Winemaking, and for many years a top consultant for wineries seeking his expertise in winemaking technology.
According to Smith, if you listen to the Beach Boy’s California Girls while sipping this wine it will taste wonderful because the mood of the wine matches the mood of this upbeat but silly song. By contrast if you pair this wine with Ella Fitzgerald singing St. Louis Blues there is a mismatch of emotional expression. The downtempo loneliness and mournful horns feel wrong when sipping this frolicsome, sweetish, and manifestly unserious wine.
I must say I think Smith is right about this. The Beach Boy’s song makes the wine feel like it’s a bit more integrated, the acidity balances the fruit and the finish more or less holds them in place. When paired with the blues tune the harmony is more fragile. The effect is small and it doesn’t magically transform this blowsy fruit bomb into an elegant princess but there may be something to the thesis.
You are reading that right—a hopped Chardonnay, unoaked and filtered through cascade hops at two points in the vinification process.
Everyone needs a gimmick I suppose and this certainly gets your attention. But in fact it is quite good, not merely a gimmick but a unique expression of Chardonnay. The nose of ripe pear and lime zest has good intensity with some grassy highlights drawing your attention. Red apple on the palate evolves into intense grapefruit supported by gentle herbal hints. The creamy texture gives way to a piquant finish where the hops are most notable, lifting its intensity and length and giving the wine pizzazz. Unlike some over-hopped IPA beer, the finish is not excessively bitter. This is a very robust Chardonnay that will stand up to strongly flavored foods.
Score: 88
Price: $20
Alc: 12.6%
But of all the Chardonnay I tasted in Virginia, the 2015 Pollak impressed me most. I tasted some with more intensity but none had the finesse and elegance that sets this wine apart. The nose is rather quiet but ripe with guava, hints of red apple and soft wisps of wet stones. The medium-weight palate is delicately threaded with citrus flavors and gently persistent acidity carrying through the languorous, subtle finish. Its silken texture is endearing and sensual not by means of an overt come-on but just by being quietly comely. It manages to be svelte, fulsome and tender at the same time. A lovely wine.
20% aged in new French Oak but with only the barest hint of toast or butter.
Virginia has anointed Viognier the state grape. But I’ve been less than impressed with them. Among whites, Chardonnay is what they do best and this is the best among those I tasted.
Score: 92
Price: $24
Alc: 13.5
Both wineries are in the Monticello AVA and use 100% estate-grown grapes in these wines.
Au Bon Climat is one of the most reliable Santa Barbara producers of reasonably-priced wines. I adore their line up of Pinot Noir, so why not try their Chardonnay? Although Chardonnay remains the white wine of choice for many consumers, there has been a backlash against it among connoisseurs and dedicated wine lovers. But when made well it is among the most satisfying of wines. It is a chameleon taking on different profiles depending on the style of the winemaker. This one reminds me of why I like Chardonnay.
Aromas of mild butterscotch framing a core of muted apricot are dominant but the aromas keep gently morphing into flinty minerality and even some hints of earthy cheese, showing myriad aspects as it sits in the glass.
Tangerine and light toast grace the medium bodied palate leading to a long, fresh finish that also doesn’t stay put, giving hints of chalk and more surging minerality until it finally settles on spiced pear to close the proceedings. Fruit and acid are well balanced.
California winemakers in years past had a tendency to over oak their Chardonnay. Today, the pendulum has swung in the other direction. But Chardonnay is a grape that shows oak well when it is restrained. Au Bon Climat doesn’t hit you over the head with it but provides enough to give the wine depth along with with full malolactic fermentation and sur lie aging –a classic style.
Delivers good value and classic restraint like John Legend’s “All of Me”
Chardonnay remains the favorite white wine among consumers. But among wine connoisseurs, sommeliers, and wine writers, the anything-but-Chardonnay crowd appears to be winning. The explanation for Chardonnay’s diminishing reputation is not hard to discern. We grew tired of the flabby, oaky, buttery monsters coming out of California in the early 2000s and began to search for something with more finesse. Winemakers have backed off that dated style and most Chardonnays today are more restrained, with less overt oak, and more acidity. But the problem is that Chardonnay, left to its own devices, is not very interesting. It lacks the range of Riesling or the intensity of Sauvignon Blanc. It benefits from some careful but creative winemaking, a little oak, some resting on the lees, judicious malolactic fermentation, etc.
Chardonnay is like most of us. Naked we’re nothing special. But with a good tailor and some dressing up we can make make a good showing.
Yet every once in awhile someone strikes a perfect balance of pure Chardonnay fruit expression and the deft use of oak that marries classic Chardonnay style with a contemporary mineral-driven flair. When that happens it’s an unbeatable grape. This one from Mt. Eden comes close to some of the better wines of Burgundy.
An introduction of buttered toast, hazelnuts and roasted pear with floral highlights gives way to lemony citrus aromas exhibiting great clarity and focus. In the mouth it’s creamy elegance, soft but vibrant evolving splendidly into a burst of bright mineral matchstick tones and a long graceful finish of green apple.
Sophisticated with a toney, uptown attitude—10 months on the lees in a mix of new and 1 year-old French oak will do that. Full malolactic fermentation.
Toney, up-town sophistication. Only Steely Dan gets this right.
For many years they tried to grow good Chardonnay in the Willamette Valley without much success until they figured out that the California-sourced clones were not a good match for their soils. But since importing the Dijon clone from France in the late 1970’s, the quality of Chardonnay from Willamette has slowly improved and today it seems everyone is jumping on the Chardonnay bandwagon. And why not since Chardonnay sells.
In general, Willamette Valley Chardonnay is crisp, lean, and fresh with modest oak and very little of the buttered-popcorn opulence that traditionally characterized Chardonnay from their neighbor to the South. This bottling from Soter is typical.
White peach and lemon provide a foundation for lovely hazelnut aromas; with aeration the crushed rock characteristic of Willamette Valley really shows. This nut/mineral coupling sets this wine apart.
There is more peach and apple on the taut palate. The medium body still manages to feel delicate until early acidity rushes in and forceful minerality takes over. The long, mouthwatering, lemony finish is on the tart side but still acceptable.
This is not gorgeous, rich, or complex. With only 13% new French oak (30% used), and only 37% undergoing malolactic fermentation, the winemaker’s aim is clearly to let the fruit speak. It is a wonderful food wine that rocked a plate of pasta with red sauce.
Fresh, lively, and a little sassy but poised–like Tegan and Sara’s “The Con”
Ovid, the great poet of Latin literature wrote “A new idea is delicate. It can be killed by a sneer or a yawn; it can be stabbed to death by a quip and worried to death by a frown on the right man’s brow”.
Delicacy in wine is similarly fragile. It can be destroyed by excessive ripeness, too much oak, stray oxygen molecules, or chemical manipulation. In fact, in our age of big and bold, delicacy is a rare treat. These two wines from Windrun appear as delicate as a bee wing belying a firm foundation.
The Pinot Noir offers a sheen of floral aromas with unusual mint highlights mingling with a blend of maraschino and darker cherries. Hints of tea, spice, and hazelnut play in the background indicating a light Buddha’s touch with the oak. (It is aged in new and used French and American oak for 6 months) Not aromatically intense, but subtle and complex, this is a wine to explore. It you swill it you will miss what it has to offer. Dry and slender on the palate, leaving cranberry and rose water impressions, it has balanced acidity and very fine tannins that have surprising persistence. Absolutely fresh and mouth watering—a gossamer robe over sinewy structure.
Stylistically this falls between three stools: More complexity than the pure fruit expression of New Zealand, but without the earthiness and grip of Burgundian Pinot Noir, and certainly avoiding the brawn and bluster of most California samples, Windrun has found its own niche. A really unique expression of California Pinot Noir. In my judgment that is worth a couple points.
The Chardonnay is very pretty and accessible. Light straw in color, pear, mango, and ginger aromas meld with a stealthy incursion of buttered popcorn, all providing contrast to the wet-stone minerality that leaps from the glass. Crisp and dry on the palate but with pleasing viscosity, the soft, ingratiating acidity announces the medium length finish with a bitter herb note lending interest. One of the new breed of California Chardonnays throwing off their heavily oaked past. Only 50% of the wine undergoes malolactic fermentation, and it is aged in large, neutral barrels preserving freshness.
Both wines have the character of paradox—delicacy and solidity. And isn’t it paradox that makes wine interesting?
Pinot Noir:
Score: 90
Price: $20
Alc: 14.1%
Chardonnay:
Score: 88
Price: $15
Alc: 13.8%
No one exhibits the paradox of delicacy and solidity better than Joanna Newsome.
Artesa is one of my favorite Napa area wineries. Their Carneros location is gorgeous—you can see San Pablo Bay on a clear day—and their reserve and limited release wines are always worth tasting. The larger production Signature series is usually consistent and well done. It was an Artesa Pinot Noir that piqued my interest in wine. So I had my usual high expectations when opening this bottle. I was a little disappointed in this 2011 Chardonnay.
intriguing smoke, grilled pineapple and apple sauce aromas of medium intensity waft from the glass. An enticing nose with enough complexity to hold your interest. The full-bodied palate is creamy with a little butter, balanced with robust acidity leading to a medium length finish, lightly graced with hazelnuts. Unfortunately the finish turns sour and is disjoint, diminishing the experience. All’s well that ends well; it it doesn’t end well, well….
This one’s a little bittersweet like Ani DiFranco’s Allergic to Water
I often complain about the homogeneity of “Big Wine” brands, but this Gallo brand Chardonnay is just weird.
