So, Syrah?

SO WHAT’S UP W/SYRAH?
          I’m pleased to have a guest spot on this site. Sommeliers have become a powerful positive force in the wine world and I’m glad to participate in your discourse.
          I’ve been thinking about California Syrah lately, and how disappointing it’s been. More than two decades ago it was so up-and-coming—but it never really got here. The grape and its wines are wine royalty, yet few California producers hang their hats on it, and fewer still have made consistently strong showings.
          I remember when the first “true” Syrahs (as opposed to Petite Sirah or whatever) came out of the gate in the early 1980s. It was really exciting, to a new generation of wine geeks at least. We’d plan dinner parties around new releases from Duxoup or Joseph Phelps. (Fred Dame—do you remember how intense that early Syrah scene was?) In fact, it was Joe Phelps, the inveterate Rhone ranger, who established our first significant true Syrah plantings.
Within a few vintages there were enough varietal Syrahs on the market to mount meaningful comparative tastings. Those early wines were exciting, not just as novelties but as credible echoes of the Rhone. I was particularly interested because I’d been getting Syrah religion at the source in Rhone caves with vignerons like Clape, Guigal, and Jaboulet, tasting with the Druids (that’s how it felt, anyway) through barrels of wine that clearly spoke of varying terroirs and vintages. If California could produce expressive Syrahs like that, I thought, we might actually have a new dimension in California wine.
          Then we all watched in horror as the early promise—of a new tool for exploring and expressing different terroirs in our magnificent coastal and mountain terrains—was broken by a flood of rather syrupy, high-octane red wine labeled Syrah for no apparent reason. Many strike me as little more than grape-flavored booze. Perhaps not coincidentally, I’m hearing reports from the field that Syrah is increasingly a tough sell. (Note: I feel like something similar has happened in eastern Washington, although that’s probably a topic for another post.)
          Can we count the paving stones on the downward path? Start with indiscriminate planting, overcropping, and excessive manipulation—particularly oak overkill. (Why do so many California winemakers think they have to make Napa Valley cabernet out of every grape variety?) I’m aware through contacts in various cellars that quite a number of highly-regarded winemakers freely doctor their wines with enzymes, tannin, concentrate, etcetera (all of which I consider substance abuse). And of course, these days it’s pretty par for the course to pick the grapes overripe and then add acid and water, which is like trying to balance a table by sawing a little off this leg and a little off that. And then there’s what I consider excessive ripeness. I’ve heard several winemakers say, “Twenty-six brix is the new twenty-four!” Personally, I liked the old twenty-four. If the variety matches the site and the vines are balanced, the grapes will be plenty ripe and the wine won’t taste like a mess of mismatched adjectives.
          Voila--there in my glass the other night was an Arnot-Roberts Syrah (Clary Vineyard ’06). It had that whole peppery, leathery, minerally thing going on, intense but not dense, with cut-glass definition and brisk natural acidity that cut right through my friend Sebastian’s pork rillette. All at just 13 percent alcohol, without de-boozing. And I thought of other classically-styled Syrahs I’ve enjoyed recently, from Dehlinger, Edmunds St. John, and the like. I wonder whether Syrahs like that will always be anomalous, or if they finally signal a trend toward the coalescence of some Syrah ideal?
          So where’s it all going? Will California Syrah producers continue following the score-mongers toward one size (extra large) fits all? Or will they rally around nuanced expression and distinctive character, perhaps leading the way toward the paradigm shift so many of us have been hoping for?
  • I think Syrah was the biggest looser of what I like to call the Wine Dark Ages, that period between 1999 and 2005 when making wine meant making wine for Robert Parker's point system. The lack of style consistency made it very difficult for customers to follow, and was therefore abandoned by the majority of wine drinkers. Good thing we are still here, to push Cote-Rotie with Kobe short ribs braised in red wine. That will bring them back to La Syrah!

  • Correction: Timbervine Ranch. So much for flying w/o notes.

  • I love that tannat! It would be interesting to see how tannat does in RRV or Mendo, maybe Ukiah area. Know of any? Back to syrah, I was blown away the other night by a Porter Creek ’06, Timberhill Vin. Moderate ripeness and alcohol, clear and defined, yet rich and juicy with plenty of pepper and leather. Gorgeous wine w/bbq pork Mex-style.

  • I was in Paso Robles a couple of months ago and was able to taste everything that Tablas Creek was pouring.  Their Syrah (2005) really stood out in my mind as being more authentic in style to something I would enjoy and would recognize as a Rhone syrah.  The Vermentino stood out as well for it's amazing honeysuckle nose and (possibly) delightful potential for food pairing.

    The star of the tasting as far as I was concerned was their 2006 Tannat which blew me away with its complexity, intensity and earthiness.  It was the type of wine I love to swirl the last few drops in the glass to just absorb the aromas as I sit.

  • Rod,

    yup and yup. As i said until you can distinguish Tablas and the cool climate guys and gals really killing it out there from the HUGE production stuff selling for 8 bucks Paso will be misunderstood. As with much of California the best stuff is gobbled up so quickly by those of us in the state, very little really leaves our borders, problematic no?