Acidity

Acidity is vital for vino.

When acidity is too low, wine is dull and flat. When acidity is too high, wine is tart and sour.

When acidity is just right, wine is a palate-cleansing food friend, a delicious delight.

Wine acidity sweet spot is between 3 and 4 pH. Most wines land between 3.3 and 3.8. Whites tend to be more acidic than reds. For comparison, milk is around 6.6 and lemonade 2.5

Once upon a time, wine wonks imagined they could spin any grape into gold, but that hubristic notion proved wrong. To make good wine, you must start with a good grape farmer.

A good grape farmer starts with good soil and an obliging climate.

Warm climates produce wonderfully fruity, sweet grapes. But warm throttles acidity.

Cool climates produce wonderfully acidic wines. But cool throttles sweet fruitiness.

There are places where climate embraces wine’s vines—warm days, cool nights—and, guess what, that’s where world’s great wines are made. Something to remember next time you buy a bottle.

Chardonnay is classic example of role played by land and climate (“terroir”). French chablis is chardonnay produced in cool climate; winemakers know how to make a flinty, food-friendly wine. Chablis is so acidic, it typically requires malolactic fermentation—a process that turns malic acid into softer, buttery flavors. Chaptalization—adding sugar—is permitted. Adding acetic acid is not.

California chardonnays fight for acidity in warm, fruit-friendly climate. Californians cannot add sugar  to increase sugar levels; no problem, they don’t have to. Adding acid—allowed.

Both places produce charming, different chardonnays. Such is wine’s refulgent wonder.

Tasting notes:

• Dark Horse Chardonnay 2013: Pear, peach, apple, butterscotch, caramel, on-lees aging adds nutty flavor; oak not over-the-top; good acidity; easy drinking value with fillip of flair; sip cool by pool. $10

• Mirassou Pinot Grigio 2013: Crisp acidity; citrus, orange zest, pear, peach; soft mouth; delicious, sweet ripe-fruit freshness. $12

• Frei Brothers Russian River Valley Reserve Chardonnay 2013: Polished exemplar of Russian River chard; green apple, honeysuckle, melon, pineapple; cool climate vineyard delivers superb acidity to crisply complement food; graceful easy drinker. $20

Last round: Wine is greatest human invention. Yes, wheel is impressive, but it does not go nearly as well with pizza.

Email Gus at wine@cwadv.com. Follow tasting notes on Twitter @gusclemens. Website: gusclemens.com. Facebook: Gus Clemens on Wine.

Father’s Day

In eighth year of this column, coming up with something new for Father’s Day put me over a barrel trying to roll out something fresh.

Then—inspiration. What DIY dad wouldn’t want to know how a cooper makes a wine barrel?

• Wine barrels are made from straight-grain strips of oak so wood doesn’t break when bent. Staves must be cut perfectly, then aged to remove harsh tannins.

• Staves are rounded on the outside and shaved on the inside, which helps in bending. Staves are wider in the middle than on the ends to achieve the bowed barrel shape.

• Barrels are assembled—typical barrel requires 25 to 30 staves—and a metal hoop is placed on one end. At this stage, the barrel looks like a flared skirt topped with a metal belt.

• Barrel is put upright, drenched with water, and a fire is lit inside. Heat and humidity allow staves to be bent by a large vice, slowly pulling staves together at the flared end. Because of careful shaving of the staves, the distinctive bulge forms in the middle as the staves are squeezed together. Metal hoops are hammered home as barrel forms.

• The cooper next starts a fire inside the barrel on the wood to “toast” the interior. Toasting affects the final wine flavor, so this is particularly artisanal element of the effort.

• The cooper cuts a groove inside the top and bottom of the barrel to receive end pieces. Hoops are relaxed to allow the barrel to expand and receive the end pieces. Barrel is squeezed together and hoops re-applied.

• Finally, strips of straw are wedged into any tiny cracks, the barrel is sanded to achieve a finished look, and hoops used in making are replaced by showier finishing hoops.

Wine barrels are different than whiskey barrels. Whiskey barrels are utilitarian holding vessels for four-plus years. Wine barrels hold wine for nine months to two-plus years and are displayed. As one cooper puts it, “a whiskey barrel is a vat, a wine barrel is furniture.” American oak barrels cost $350-$600; French oak barrels $800-$4,000; standard barrels hold 59-60 gallons.

Last round: Father’s Day toast—May you live to be so old your best vintage wine is past its prime.

Email Gus at wine@cwadv.com. Follow tasting notes on Twitter @gusclemens. Website: gusclemens.com. Facebook: Gus Clemens on Wine.

Snobbery

Snobbery is pernicious peril for wine drinkers.

Each person’s palate is different. Pickles may repel you. Asparagus is awful, broccoli beautiful, raw broccoli exceptional, cooked broccoli disgusting. Everyone is keen for green kale, but I have no idea why anyone would ever touch purple kale.

So it goes with wine.

“Sophisticated” wine drinkers eventually wander into tasting territories where furiously exotic flavors flourish. Teeth-purpling reds with flamboyant tannins inflame wine lust. Scouring acidity sends us into paroxysms of pleasure when paired with wild-caught fish served with purple kale.

The rest of the world wishes for a simple, affordable bottle to enjoy with their meal and/or move past a day surviving idiot drivers, bothersome bosses, clueless clients.

If your palate permits you to explore subtle nuances of right and left bank Bordeaux, bravo for you.

If your palate prefers sweet and simple and affordable, something that doesn’t taste much different than cola but has welcomed additional kick, good for you, too.

Best wine is wine you enjoy. Don’t listen when pompous pettifoggers pontificate.

Tasting notes:

• Gallo Family Vineyards Pink Moscato NV: Bright, light-bodied, perky, sweet (but not cloying) with fresh citrus, red berry, orange, peach; dances on palate, pairs with almost everything; nice price. $4

• Tisdale Pinot Grigio NV: Unpretentious easy drinker; wisps of peach, lemon, pear; somewhat like water with lemon wedge; well done for what it is; drink chilled while chilling by the pool. $5

• Barefoot Bubbly Berry Fusion NV: Very sweet, fruity, pomegranate, cranberry, ripe plum; light, bright, cola-like bubbly. $10

• Barefoot Bubbly Peach Fusion NV: You want peaches, we got peaches. Extravagantly fruity. Peaches, peaches, more peaches, side of honeysuckle. $10

• Barefoot Bubbly Citrus Fusion NV: Delightfully more restrained than BB sisters; orange, tangerine, peach, passion fruit; plenty of sweet to charm its market, but some taming citrus acidity, too. $10

• The Original Dark Horse Big Red Blend NV: Ripe red, dark fruits, plum, caramel; six different grapes; fruity sweetness; smooth, easy drinker, with hints of acidity, tannin, oak; no overpowering cherry jam attack (hallelujah); no nuance or depth, but nice-for-price pour that will entertain. $10

Last round: If I agreed with your opinion about this wine we would both be wrong.

Email Gus at wine@cwadv.com. Follow tasting notes on Twitter @gusclemens. Website: gusclemens.com. Facebook: Gus Clemens on Wine.

Ancestral wine drinkers

Turns out we primates have enjoyed wine for a long, long time, and some of us have been able to enjoy more of it than others.

Wine’s history dates back to when fruit-bearing trees first appeared 100 million years ago. Fruit is ideal fermentation vessel. Sweet ripe fruit swollen with microbes consuming sugars and producing carbon dioxide and alcohol lures all kinds of eaters of sugar. Sugar is fruit’s success secret: “come hither,” eat me, scatter my seeds.

Alcohol buzz seems secondary lure, but a variety of mammals indulge. Elephants drunk on rice wine rampage in India. Swedish moose got so snockered on apple wine, it got stuck in an apple tree until rescued. Those animals, however, are cheap drunks.

About 10 million years ago, some of our forebears took it to next level when a gene—ADH4—mutated to created an enzyme that metabolizes alcohol 40 times more efficiently. With that mutation, happy hour lights turned on for common ancestors of chimpanzees, gorillas, and humans.

Why? Scientists hypothesize the adaptation allowed the animals to eat and drink foods others could not tolerate as well. They did not get drunk as easily, and were—thus—less susceptible to predators. Rotting, sugar-and-alcohol infused fruit became a food they exploited more safely than other fruit eaters.

More than 9,000 years ago, human beings moved from foraging rotting fruit to deliberately producing wine. If someone asks why you enjoy wine, say your ancestors used it as a survival tool for millions of years, and today you use it for same reason.

Tasting notes:

• Gallo Family Vineyards Red Moscato NV: Sweet, clean; cranberry, red berries, citrus slice, peach; not sophisticated, but refreshing easy drinker; people who don’t like wine will enjoy; wine drinkers can sip without shame. $5

• River Bend Cellars Sasquatch Red NV: Vivid fruit—blackberry, plum, black cherry; puckering tannin, balancing acidity, lingering finish; tasty, not for fainthearted or newbies to big red wines. $19

• Sean Minor Point North Pinot Noir 2013: Dark fruit, raspberry, blackberry, strawberry, leather, spice; restrained oak, medium body, soft tannin, smooth bright mouth; nice price Oregon pinot. $20

Last round: Wine does not cure the flu, but it fails more agreeably than any other method.

Email Gus at wine@cwadv.com. Follow tasting notes on Twitter @gusclemens. Website: gusclemens.com. Facebook: Gus Clemens on Wine.

Bottom shelf

Who does not rejoice in a good bottle of wine selling for under $12?

But beware, there is plonk a’plenty where label legerdemain lurks to bamboozle buyers.

If it seems too good to be true, pause. Puffed up suggested retail prices are popular flimflam. If seller claims bottle regularly sells for $20, but for limited time you can get it for $9.99, pause. The bottle likely is same quality as other $10 wines, or the store is desperately trying to clear out tired, past-prime inventory.

The government has rules for labels; careful reading imparts useful information. For instance, the label must state where the wine was made.

California’s Central Valley is heartland of bulk wine. Nothing wrong with that—box wine for your frat party needs to come from somewhere—but there is difference between wine made from hand-pruned Napa vines meticulously selected by experts in the cool of a full-moon night and wines made from push-the-tons-per-acre mega-plots harvested by whirling machines in searing heat of a Central Valley day.

Lodi is center of Central Valley. Lodi makes some good zins; pinot noir and chardonnay, not as often. Check location on the label.

Be skeptical of label fluff. “Our family has crafted outstanding wines from the finest vineyards in California for generations” sounds nice, but doesn’t really mean anything.

“Finest vineyards in California” is blather. “Our family” seems bucolically nice and homey, but the largest wine maker in the world—Gallo—is an “our family” operation. Gallo makes some exceptionally good wine, but mom and pop with dirt under their fingernails patches on their dungarees, it is not.

Exclusive brands—usually found in supermarkets—often are what wine industry calls “shiners.” These are finished wines sold without labels—the bottles are “shiny.” The store slaps a clever label on the bottle and promotes the pour as an “exclusive” offering.

Shiners often are made by bulk producers, so paucity of information is one shiner tell. That said, some good shiners can be worthy. If you find one you like, stock up. Next year the wine might not be so nice.

Last round: Wine connoisseur went to hell. Fortunately, there was plenty of wine. Unfortunately, it was served at room temperature.

Blackcurrant

What’s with this “blackcurrant” thing often associated with tasting notes about cabernet sauvignon?

There is a reason many Americans are unfamiliar with blackcurrant and have never seen a blackcurrant bush: until recently it was illegal to grow blackcurrant in the United States. It remains illegal in many states; some states ban blackcurrants, but allow red or white currants. Go figure.

The ban grew from a disputed 19th century belief that blackcurrant bushes might carry or be a vector for a disease fatal to white pines. Freaked-out foresters persuaded feds to ban blackcurrant bushes in the early 20th century. The national ban was removed in 1966, but only recently have several states legalized blackcurrant cultivation.

Europeans, especially British children, are very familiar with the taste, thanks to Ribena, a popular sweetened blackcurrant soft drink.

Your most likely exposure to blackcurrant is from crème de cassis, a liqueur made from blackcurrant. “Cassis” is French for blackcurrant. Crème de cassis and sparkling wine make a Kir Royale, a delicious addition to any day.

Blackcurrant and cabernet sauvignon also are linked by geography. The major French production area for cab is Bordeaux, and Bordeaux is a major French production area for blackcurrant.

In tasting notes, blackcurrant usually references sweet acidity and rounded fruitiness with a tincture of tartness and a pinch of palate-cleansing astringency. One wag claims blackcurrant tastes like blackberry with pirate swagger. Garrrrr. Maybe so, matey.

Tasting notes:

  • Hayman & Hill Monterey County Meritage 2012: Jammy dark fruits, spice, chocolate, tinge of black currant; dusty tannins; smooth drinking Bordeaux-style blend at reasonable price. Similar to Kendall-Jackson Summation. $15
  • Sean Minor Napa Valley Cabernet 2011: Dry Bordeaux blend, but nicely ripe fruits give impression of sweetness; blackberry, black currant, plum, cherry; full body, genteel tannin, sweet oak; not complex, but tasty Napa Valley value. $20
  • Geyser Peak Walking Tree Cabernet Sauvignon 2012: Polished, plush; black cherry, raspberry, black currant tang; tame tannin, good acidity. $28
  • Chateau Fonréaud Listrac-Médoc 2010: Superb Bordeaux value; tasty red and black fruits, blackcurrant, mint hint, chip of cedar, vanilla; clean, smooth, medium body, tame tannin, balanced, good structure; rounding into fruity-delicious after five years of bottle age. $45

Last round: Yes, I drink a lot of wine. When you meet my family, you will understand.