Trouble in Oaksville

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This is a funny piece from Neal Martin, the British expert on Bordeaux wines sitting on Robert Parker's panel.

Bartolo Mascarello, one of the most respected gurus in traditional winemaking from Barolo, must be turning in his grave.  It was he who once made "No barrique, no Berlusconi" a rallying call against the first barrique invasion 30 years ago.  He even hand painted a wine label for his wine with this slogan.  

Many a time, I just needed to pick up a glass of wine, sniffed what some wine critics praised as "sweet toasted oak", and then quickly put the glass down again.

Neal made a typical British understatement that "you can have too much icing on the cake".  

Or was it "No barrique, no Parker" that he was really trying to say?

Interestingly, James Suckling, another angel of the barrique, recently departed Wine Spectator unceremoniously.

The writing is on the wall, if not on the wine bottle yet.

 

The Three-Letter Word: Coonawarra Landmark Masterclass

By Neal Martin

Source: erobertparker.com:

http://www.erobertparker.com/members/nmartin/nm1309.asp

“Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. New oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. New oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. New oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. New oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. New oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak. Oak.”

The above paragraph is a summary of the Coonawarra Landmark Masterclass held at the London Wine Trade Fair last May. Readers may notice a common theme, but for those of you who don’t like cryptic puzzles, then that theme was oak.

I was gob-smacked how often this three-letter word kept speckled this tutorial overseen by a panel of speakers that included Sue Hodder of Wynns, Wayne Stehbens of Katnook (pictured in November ’07) and Bernard Hickin, chief winemaker of Jacob’s Creek. Don’t get me wrong: all three are talented winemakers who have made more than their fair share of great Coonawarra wine. But at several points I had to resist the urge of standing up and demanding the speakers to cease talking about oak. It was almost as if the quality of Coonawarra wine is closely correlated with the amount and length of new oak.

I meet a lot of winemakers and for some reason they want to impress me with their wine. Fair enough. A common phrase runs something like: the fruit was so great this year that we felt that we could mature the wine in 24-months new French barriques (fill in the length of time at your discretion.)
I often turn round and say: “That’s fine. But was 24-months in new French barriques the optimal means of maturing your wine. Or did you do it because you thought you simply could?”

The simple analogy would be driving. Just because it says that you are allowed to drive at 70m.p.h. that does imply that it is the optimal driving speed. I have an idea. In the instance of a great growing season and heavenly ripe fruit, sit back a think whether you necessarily need to increase the level of oak because frankly speaking, my palate and I are getting oak fatigue. I am getting bored of winemakers obsessing about oak when what I want to taste is fruit, terroir, personality, freshness, balance, the nuances of the growing season and preferably the irresistible urge to take another sip.

Having judged down at the Limestone Coast Wine Show in 2007, I know how good Coonawarra’s wines can be, but it is not connected to the quantity of new oak or how long it remained there. Occasionally the oak obfuscated the character and the expression of the wine, for example, Hollick’s Cabernet Sauvignon 2006 and the Wynns Cabernet 1991. Otherwise there were some excellent wines here from some of the regions finest exponents: Parker Estate and Balnaves (under Pete Bissell) and Katnook. These tend to be dense, rich, opulent wines that will surely age well, in fact, a couple of them seemed to have not aged at all since I tasted them almost three years ago.

All I want to say is that yes, these wines can take a thick wedge of new oak. But after this tutorial, though I enjoyed the wines, I worried that Coonawarra as a whole needs to step away from the dogma of new oak and let the wines speak for themselves, not through the interpreter of wood. Sometimes producers seem to use a lot of oak in order to prove a point, as if I might dismiss a wine because it received less, when in actual fact the opposite it often true. Even with respect to these wines here, I departed wondering whether the wines could be even better and engender more personality with less oak? They have the fruit in the vineyard and the talent of the winemaker. So is that level of new oak necessary? You know, you can have too much icing on the cake.

1 則評論在 Trouble in Oaksville.

  1. Globalization of palate!
    [版主回覆09/04/2010 21:12:00]Shall we say commercialization of wine as a commodity?

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