Oak Is Trendy, Not Always Tasty

John Parducci, one of California’s greatest wine makers and a man who does not prefer the taste of oak in his wines, once said, “If you want oak, go chew on a two-by-four,” or words to that effect.

Yet, Americans seem smitten by oak flavor in their Cabernet Sauvignons, in their Chardonnays and even in wines that clearly would do as well with no oak whatever. If this trend continues, I anticipate some day a winery selling a bottle full of wine-dipped toothpicks.

Since Americans like the taste and smell of oak in their wine, wine makers accommodate them. They oak the most delicate of wines and strip from them the very elements that may give them some passing resemblance to the grapes from which they were made.

To say which came first is a chicken-and-egg sort of argument. I can’t be certain whether Americans demanded oak so wine makers gave it to them, or whether a few wine makers over-oaked a few wines, the wines received plaudits, and that gave other wine makers a great idea.

A Reminder

Either way, oak is here and it will be with us for at least the remainder of the current generation--a generation that has been carefully taught that if a little oak is a good thing, a lumber factory is wonderful.

(This should be a reminder to us all that sometimes the wines that win the highest praise are, after all, only one style of wine. And that equally as good are wines with little or no oak that taste of the grape, but which, for lack of “oomph,” get none of their richly deserved praise.)

As a part-time wine evaluator, I have a debate on my hands with this recent “more is better” school of wine making. On one hand, I realize that big, full-flavored, oak-scented wines will be appreciated by a lot of people. So when I’m evaluating wine, I understand and deal accordingly with such brooding giants.

I, on the other hand, love wine that speaks of the grape, wines that offer delicacy. And when I’m not evaluating wine but consuming it with dinner, I try to ignore the big guys and go after subtlety.

A discussion of oak came up the other day when I was conducting a tasting of newly released Merlots. A few of the wines clearly had a lot of oak, evidence of aging in new French-made barrels, and a few of the tasters noted that the oak character was a little strong for the fruit in the wine.

Ample Fruit

Other tasters admitted that the wines in question were oaky, sure, but that they had ample amounts of fruit and would obviously be great wines with a few years of bottle age.

The debate, I suggested, really centered on the individual’s tolerance for oak. If you were raised to like a lot of oak in wine, then you’re drawn to oaky wine; anything less is too simple, too innocuous. If you were raised, conversely, on wine that smells and tastes like grapes, then oaky wine bores you. It bores me.

But I am being won over to the oaky style of wine if only because California (and to a degree Australia) does it so well. Oak can be a seductive element in wine, especially great Cabernet Sauvignon, and after a while you can be smitten by its charms.

But what is this element that intrigues us all so much? What does it smell like and taste like?

That, unfortunately, is a difficult thing to pinpoint because putting into words the precise aroma and flavor components of oak can’t be done easily with standard English terms. Moreover, there is the question of what kind of oak are we talking about. There is French oak and there is American oak, and usually they are miles apart in terms of flavor components.

The Oak of Choice

French oak is the oak of choice in the fine wine districts of California, even though it is far more expensive than the American variety--at $400 a barrel it’s nearly twice as much as the domestic oak barrels.

French oak tends to give a subtler character when it is young; American oak is a bit more pungent. But as barrels age, they become neutral and impart little if any oak to wine. The life cycle of a wine barrel is about five years. After that it’s merely a vessel in which to hold wine, not impart character.

French oak can have a vanilla/chocolate kind of aroma and the perfume of it can be heady. It lends to a red wine, especially, a kind of cedary tone and can imply roasted nuts.

American oak aromas are more direct, more obvious. When American oak barrels are used young and raw, a major component of the aroma of the wine that goes into it is dill weed or pickle barrel. More faintly, it gives an impression of pine, resin or green olives.

(The differences between these two oaks is more a product of their manufacture than of the trees themselves, and if the inside of a barrel is toasted by fire, the character of the barrel changes radically. But that’s a story for another day.)

The choice of which oak to use is often based on price. Most wine makers know that French oak’s character is more subtle and traditional and that Americans tend to like French oak character in wine better than American oak.

However, the successes of some wineries that use American oak has persuaded some wine makers that you can make an excellent wine with the less expensive oak. (Or is this simply a rationalization?)

Historically, oak barrels were used to give red wine a more mature, developed character, not mere oak flavor. In France, oak was used for centuries, before stainless steel was invented, to mellow the wine before it was consumed. The character that developed so intrigued wine lovers that it became a part of the context in which wine was evaluated.

In the United States, large oak tanks and small oak barrels were used from the start of the industry, in the 1850s, and by the latter part of the 19th Century, Inglenook and Beaulieu in the Napa Valley had long established the idea of aging wine in barrels. But again, not for a hit of oak, but as a means of rasping off the rough edges of a new wine.

Beaulieu was one of the first wineries to use oak as a flavoring agent, but soon after the end of Prohibition, when Andre Tchelistcheff joined BV to become its wine master, that oak was still viewed as only a grace note, not a standout element.

BV used American oak (it was then the only kind of oak used in this country), but it did so with a clear understanding that the oak itself had a persona that could blend with the fruit. Throughout the years, the “BV style” of Cabernet, with its faint but still evident note of American oak, has convinced other wine makers that such a regimen can make great wine.

But what some wine makers don’t know is that the BV system is to use a tiny amount of new oak each year, and it is new American oak that lends a wine such pungency as to make it briney. Some wine makers have yet to understand this and their use of new American oak gives their wines a too-dense oak character.

Stunned With Its Charm

Hanzell Vineyards in Sonoma was the first U.S. winery to use French oak and its first release, a 1957 Chardonnay, was a revelation that stunned California watchers with its charm.

Today, French oak is the standard by which classic Cabernets and Chardonnays are judged. The fruit of a great wine enhanced by the roasted notes that come from the slightly charred interior of a French oak barrel is a component some tasters expect.

Those who choose to use American oak run the risk of creating controversial wines, liked by some, detested by others for their exotic, non-traditional characteristics.

In recent years, some smaller U.S. barrel producers have made their American oak into barrels using French techniques, and the charring so common inside French oak barrels is now seen as a component of some American oak barrels too.

Still, the evident American oak character found in the Zinfandels of DeLoach and Ridge and the Cabernets of Ridge, Silver Oak, Kenwood and Fetzer is to some people an eccentric and curious element that stands out as different.

If one wine seems to withstand the American oak treatment, it is Zinfandel, that spicy and often intensely flavored wine whose violet- or cassis-like elements seem enhanced by American oak’s audacious pungency.

But when ZD in the Napa Valley began years ago to age its Chardonnay in American oak, it created a love-or-hate wine. Recently, the 1987 Chardonnay of New York State’s Wagner Vineyards, which was fermented and aged in American oak, created a similar impression. Some traditionalists feel the wine is awful. Others who don’t see the oak character as a flaw like it.

Stylish Pinot Noir

Robert Stemmler has won plaudits for a stylish Pinot Noir that is aged in American oak, and others use American oak for other varieties.

However, in the last few years there has been a swing toward more use of French oak. For instance, Kenwood and Fetzer, both innovative wine companies, are slowly moving away from American oak and toward French. And Silver Oak makes a Bonny’s Vineyard Cabernet that is aged in half French and half American.

One reason for this is to capture the flavor profile the American consumer seems to demand, even though the cost of the French oak barrel is so much higher.

One winery that has made its reputation on grape flavor and not oak is the Louis Martini Winery. Throughout the years, the red wines of this Napa Valley property show well early and late, defying the critics who argue that such “light style” wines don’t age.

For those who like the taste of fruit from the grape without oak, a number of wineries should be considered, not the least of which is the Parducci winery, whose use of oak is minimal and the wines are excellent. Also, Callaway makes a Chardonnay that is not aged in oak, and Rodney Strong, Fetzer, Buena Vista and a host of others make Sauvignon Blancs that see no oak.

But oak seems to be an element that enhances many wines, notably Cabernets, and although it is appealing, it is also giving a lot of newcomers to wine a false sense of what great wine is. Instead of sensing the fruit, they get oak and think that’s the only way great wine is made.

And what that does is develop a whole generation of folks who think wine is made from two-by-fours with grape juice added for flavor.

Wine of the Week: 1986 Orlando Jacob’s Creek Cabernet Sauvignon ($6)--This wine continues to impress me. Made by the second largest winery in Australia, it has perfect Cabernet character: fruit, a slight herbal tea hint and a chocolaty-ness. The oak is muted and the tannin is soft enough for immediate consumption, but since I first had it nine months ago it has improved.