California’s tough pilgrim

ALL of California’s wine grape varieties came from the Old World. Some, like Cabernet and Chardonnay, had luminous pedigrees and letters of introduction. Predictably, they’ve done very well for themselves.

But even those that came from the other side of the tracks back in Europe had a shot at fame and fortune. That’s what happened for Petite Sirah. Dismissed as a no-account grape in its homeland, it now produces fine California reds that routinely cost upward of $25 a bottle.

Some of California’s oldest vines are Petite Sirah. Many stand alongside equally venerable Zinfandel, Carignane, Alicante Bouchet and Grenache vines. That’s the classic California “field blend”: grape varieties grown together, picked together and fermented together to make the hearty red preferred by the Italian immigrants who began planting them in the late 19th century.

Those old vineyards have stood the test of turbulent times. They’ve survived Prohibition, two phylloxera infestations, economic slumps and the pre-emptive spread of Cabernet Sauvignon and Chardonnay during the 1990s.

They’ve survived because they yield delicious and distinctive wines. As Ridge Vineyards wine master Paul Draper points out, “The old vines that have survived through Prohibition and the Depression have done so because they’re growing on excellent sites, and produce particularly interesting wine. That’s why they have the reputation -- not because they’re old, but because they were planted in the right place.”

Petite Sirah is a cross between Syrah, one of the world’s great wine grapes, and Peloursin, an obscure Mediterranean variety. In southern France, it’s known as Durif. In the northern Rhone, it’s called Serine -- or, occasionally, Petite Syrah because of its smaller grapes and clusters.

But while Petite Sirah has never quite found a niche in Europe, it has steadily developed a rather passionate following in California. Its presence is modest -- barely 4,000 acres, mostly in Mendocino, Sonoma and Napa counties -- but that’s misleading. Widely planted grapes such as Cabernet and Chardonnay are commodities, grown simply for profit regardless of their suitability for a given site. Growers who have Petite Sirah really want Petite Sirah, and wineries that produce it do so with conviction.

Its strength is versatility, a capacity to be a workhorse or a star as the situation demands. A hundred years ago, Petite Sirah was widely used in California to bring color, tannin and structure to red blends, in the same way that French producers, especially in Burgundy, used Syrah to beef up their lighter cuvees.

Zinfandel producers, in particular, still see Petite Sirah as an indispensable blending component. It adds depth and structure, along with darker, richer aromas and flavors. Sometimes, the Syrah half of its lineage contributes a Rhone-like cracked peppercorn note.

That noble ancestry can be even more evident in straight Petite bottlings. Ridge’s are classic examples. Ridge has been producing them for more than three decades, and they include some of the most impressive California wines I’ve ever tasted. In a comprehensive Ridge tasting four years ago, the Petites from York Creek Vineyard on Spring Mountain (Napa Valley) almost stole the show from the more celebrated Zins and Cabernets. Especially the 1971 -- after nearly 30 years it was not only vibrant and youthful but also wonderfully evolved, with an intricate spicy bouquet and a heady matrix of flavors. The currently available ’99 shows every sign of aging just as well, for those who can resist the temptation of its succulent black pepper-inflected fruit.

Stags’ Leap Winery is another standard bearer. Its estate vineyard in southeastern Napa Valley was established in the 1880s as a field blend, but several generations of owners narrowed the selection down to Petite Syrah (the original owners’ spelling, retained by present owner Beringer-Blass Wine Estates).

While moving house recently I unearthed a forgotten bottle of 1978 Stags’ Leap Petite Syrah, which I opened for a dinner thanking my volunteer furniture crew. It was a stunning wine, from the heights of its beguiling cedar incense and black molasses perfume to the depths of its sumptuous, inky fruit -- still fresh and lively after all those years.

Stags’ Leap currently produces two bottlings. Both ‘99s are worth seeking out. The estate bottling offers the rustic pleasures of dark, juicy fruit flavors and pleasantly raspy tannin. The more serious Ne Cede Malis Reserve is riper, richer and more massive, a wine to age a few years and then open by the fireplace after dinner some rainy night.

Concannon (in Livermore) and Foppiano (Russian River Valley) have both been Petite Sirah champions throughout most of the 20th century. The ’99 Foppiano in particular is a good example of the kinder, gentler style of fruit-forward Petite that has swelled the varietal’s fan base in recent years.

There’s nothing particularly kind or gentle about the Turley “Rattlesnake Acres” ’99 (Napa Valley), currently the most expensive Petite at $85. It certainly doesn’t bite, however -- the plump fruit and fine-grained texture uncoil slowly and glide across the palate. Another striking ’99 Napa Valley Petite comes from David Fulton. Its minerality and piercing floral perfume evoke a rose garden planted in gravel. Yet another is the earthy, spiced-cherry ’99 Carver-Sutro Palisades Vineyard, from old dry-farmed vines in northern Napa Valley.

Mendocino County checks in with the delicious ’99 Lolonis “Orpheus” (Redwood Valley), an organically grown beauty in the old style -- rough and vibrant, with sweet red fruit and a leathery undertone.

The next time you’re driving through Northern California’s wine country, keep an eye out for old vines. They’re easy to spot, typically standing in ranks like an army of green-haired gnomes preparing to charge down the hillside armed with clusters of small purple grapes. Most will be Zinfandel, but more than you think are Petite Sirah.