Chardonnay Breaks the Butterscotch Barrier

I used to be a staunch ABC man. “Anything But Chardonnay” (and Cabernet) was my motto. I was simply bored with the sameness of the oak-flavored grape syrups so many California vintners were producing from the state’s two predominant varieties.

But as a confirmed evolutionist, I’ve taken delight in observing the California wine industry’s rapid progress toward lofty goals. Well, relatively rapid, given that changes in vineyards and wineries take years to show up in wines. The leading-edge producers are intent on wines that express the nature of a place, sometimes called terroir.

First, Napa Valley producers got the quality of their Cabernets dialed in through the 1990s. Today the world’s outstanding wines consistently include Napa Valley Cabernets. This does not necessarily include the over-hyped and overproduced cult Cabs, but their rising tide has lifted all producers.

And recent vintages provide ample evidence that Chardonnay producers in several regions are hitting a similar stride.

In Burgundy, they say the Chardonnay vine is an instrument for extracting character from the soil. The idea is that the nuances of Chardonnay wine can be an acute reflection of where the vines grow.

Of course, regional expression and its rarer subset, site-specific expression, are easily obscured by winemaking techniques. Countless market surveys and focus groups have told Chardonnay producers that most consumers want luscious, buttery, oak-flavored wines. Since Chardonnay is not born tasting oaky and buttery, winemakers have responded by going heavy on new oak barrels (and oak chips too) while taking malolactic fermentation beyond its acid-softening effect into the realm of oily texture and butterscotch flavors.

Both winemaking tools are useful in shaping the sensory profile of wine, but their overuse leads to increasing homogenization by working against the expression of regional character. On the other hand, as viticultural practices improve the ripeness and concentration of grapes in favored vineyards, the sensory resemblances of wines from certain places inevitably become more apparent. California wine observers began to see that kind of distinction in wines from the Carneros district during the mid-1980s. Now it’s widely accepted that Carneros Chardonnays typically show a high-toned but rich lemon character, often compared to lemon cream or custard, along with bright, focused fruit flavors with a citrus core.

Winemaker Steve McRostie’s Chardonnays are good examples. They come from several vineyards in the heart of the Carneros American Viticultural Area, or AVA, where a chilly breeze comes whistling off nearby San Francisco Bay most afternoons. The wind has a dramatic effect on temperatures in the area, pulling the mercury down as much as 10 degrees on a summer afternoon.The net effect is a prolonged growing season. Even though the vines start their spring growth a week or two earlier than in most areas, the Carneros harvest is usually a week or two later. That extra time on the vine deepens flavor intensity and complexity.

“When I smell Carneros I know it,” says McRostie. “It’s spicy, with lemon and sometimes lime. I don’t see as much brightness in the aroma of southern Napa, and Russian River Valley Chardonnays tend to be more tropical.” McRostie says he wants Carneros fruit to be the centerpiece of his Chardonnays, so he keeps his winemaking as unobtrusive as possible. For example, although the wines are barrel-fermented, he limits his use of new oak and malolactic fermentation.

“I want the barrel to be there as an interesting sidelight, noticed but not front and center,” he says. “I don’t want it to overwhelm the wine. And I like the acidity Carneros gives us, but I want the wines to be enjoyable when they’re consumed, so we do malolactic to achieve that. But I don’t want that to show in a strong butterscotch quality.”

In Anderson Valley, on the ocean-cooled side of Mendocino County, Navarro Vineyards winemaker Jim Klein uses similarly non-intrusive winemaking to preserve the regional character of Navarro’s “Premier Reserve” Chardonnay. The wine comes primarily from 25-year-old vines on the Navarro estate in the cool “Deep End” of Anderson Valley, where succulent lemon and deeper sweet pear flavors typical of Anderson Valley Chardonnay develop late in the season along with high acidity, particularly from malic acid. Klein feels that malolactic fermentation is necessary to bring the acidity into balance, but he wants to avoid the strong buttery character that can obscure the full range of fruit expression.

And here’s where climate plays an unexpected role in winemaking. The Deep End is the coolest, most marine-influenced zone in the valley, with afternoon sea breezes; temperatures rarely get above the high 80s. “In late September, when they’re well into harvesting in Sonoma and Napa, we’re waiting for ripeness,” says Klein. “We get such a late start on fermentation, and it goes so slowly, that the wines never complete malolactic until April. I used to worry about that, but now I think it actually improves the fruit character. The fruit stays bright and we don’t get that butterscotch flavor.”

One of the most exciting stories in the evolution of California wine has been the increasingly detailed sensory mapping of western Sonoma County through wines--largely through Chardonnay. Two smaller areas within the Russian River Valley, Green Valley and the western coastal ridges, have become increasingly distinct.

Chardonnays from the partnership of grower Steve Dutton and winemaker Dan Goldfield are vivid expressions of fruit from the cold, foggy heart of the Russian River Valley. They come from several Dutton Ranch vineyards within the Green Valley AVA (which lies within the Russian River Valley AVA) and reflect the distinctively steely, citrus-zest character of that ocean-cooled enclave.

The vineyards include some of the oldest Chardonnay vines in Sonoma County, planted in 1969 by Warren Dutton (Steve’s father), and the unique Rued Vineyard, planted in 1972 with a Muscat-like Chardonnay selection that shows an exotic, tropical fruit-like character.

“For me it all comes back to those unique vineyards and older plantings,” says Goldfield. “A lot of people say Chardonnay is a winemaker wine. But I think of it as a vineyard wine, and I think it shows regional ‘typicity’ better than almost any other variety.”

Hartford Court’s “Seascape Vineyard” Chardonnay is an outstanding example of another emerging area, the high-altitude coastal margin of Sonoma County that has begun to consistently yield Chardonnays with a kind of sea-breeze character similar to Anderson Valley’s.

Its keen citrus and mineral aroma, sleek but powerful palate and succulent lemon-candy finish all say something about a long, cool growing season above the fog line, where the unblinking solar intensity is moderated by bracing winds off the nearby Pacific.

So does the firm, fine-grained texture, which Hartford Court winemaker Mike Sullivan feels is a signal quality of extreme coastal fruit. “It’s an interesting thing about Sonoma Coast Chardonnay,” Sullivan observes. “You don’t get the same exposure as farther inland, so the sun isn’t burning the tannin out of the fruit.”

These are just a few examples of Chardonnay’s ascendancy. As more winemakers lighten up on technique and let the fruit shine through, Robert Louis Stevenson’s famous 19th century observation about Napa Valley becomes more universal: “The smack of California earth shall linger on the palate of your grandson.”