Ezra Pound Would Have Been a French Vintner

Perry Creek Syrah, 2008

Perry Creek Syrah, 2008 from Fair Play AVA in El Dorado County has a deep, ruby red color.  The richness of the color matches the dark cherry, nutty flavor with hints of wood and vanilla and a long, licorice finish.  The tannins are medium, the acidity is light, but the body is heavy and rich, like its color.  Those hints of vanilla and wood told me immediately that this Syrah has been well-oaked.

“Cut everything superfluous.  Go in fear of abstractions.”  This was Ezra Pound’s advice on writing well.  Some winemakers would apply this to their craft.  In France, vintners call themselves grape farmers.  They do not make the wine.  The grapes make the wine.  The grapes should reflect the terroir.  Because of this philosophy, the French look down on a superfluous amount of oak.  It muddies the natural flavors of the grape.

I like oak.  I like the nutty, vanilla, wood flavors that oak imparts on the wine.  It gives the wine more dimension, and makes it more interesting.

“I am my remembering self, and the experiencing self, who does my living is like a stranger to me.”  This is how Daniel Kahneman, Professor of Psychology, Nobel Prize winner and author of the book Thinking Fast and Slow describes the dichotomy with which we all live.  Our memories may well be different from the actual experience, because it is in memory that we layer on the narrative of significance and meaning.  We are all story-tellers of our own lives, and our lives become more interesting and complex because of it.

“I want to write one true sentence.  If I can write one sentence, simple and true, every day, I’ll be satisfied.”  Hemingway, like Pound, believed that good writing should be straight-forward and honest, an honest description of the experiencing self, without abstraction.  Because we are our remembering selves, rather than our experiencing selves, doesn’t that make truth an abstraction?

Slow Thinking While Wind Walking

This past weekend I had the wonderful opportunity to participate in Passport Weekend in El Dorado wine country. My good friend, Shelly and I got to spend many hours traipsing through the beautiful rolling, green foothills of the Sierra, visiting wineries and tasting wines. There were many great little finds, but we both agreed our favorite winery of the weekend was Windwalker in Fair Play. There we tasted a non-traditional blend, Sierra Sunset. It is made with Syrah, Zinfandel, Sangiovese, and Tempronillo grapes. These grapes are not from the same region of origin; they are not even from the same country of origin. Syrah is originally from France’s Rhone Valley. Zinfandel is considered America’s grape, even though it is from Czechoslovakia. Sangiovese originates from Tuscany Italy. Tempronillo is from Spain’s La Rioja region. This wonderful, multi-national blend had flavors of clove and sour cherries. It was medium bodied and had a good crisp acidity. At $10.95 a bottle, it was the best value of the weekend.

Currently, I am reading the book, Thinking Fast and Slow by Daniel Kahneman, The author is a Nobel-prize winning, research psychologist. His book explains the human mind in terms of two systems, fast thinking and slow thinking. Many of his ideas are very thought provoking, some thought threatening. He describes us as ‘pattern seekers, believers in a coherent world,’ (p.115) We naturally interpret our experiences in terms of cause and effect and are ‘far too willing to reject the belief that much of what we see in life is random.’ (p.117) When I read or hear things like this, I wonder, ‘isn’t life richer and more meaningful if  we think of it as not random, but intentional?’ His ideas certainly fly in the face of the old axiom, ‘everything happens for a reason.’

As we left Windwalker winery, we drove past the vineyards and saw all the early spring vines trellised, naked in a row. Maybe because it was the weekend after Easter, the sight struck me as seeing vines strung up, sacrificing their grapes for our delicious wine. God bless the grapes.

It is very comforting to think that everything happens for a reason. Fate controls our lives and we are only witnessing what is meant to be. It makes it much easier to accept things with that way of thinking, and at first glance seems to make life more meaningful. On the other hand, if everything is random, and we are juxtaposing random facts together to create meaning, is that any less rich? In fact, isn’t that the definition of any art? A musical composition is blending the various elements of music, notes, chords, dynamics, tempo, in a new way to create something meaningful. Writing is the blending of words and ideas in a way that has not been done before. That is the creative process. Creating a narrative out of random events is how we give our own lives meaning. The medium is one’s own individual life, and the interpretation of one’s life is the art.

In the world of wine, a great Bordeaux blend is a great wine. But Sierra Sunset is far from a classic blend. It is an interesting juxtaposition of international grapes that has been interpreted beautifully.

The Stress of Dreams, from Koonunga Hill to Bordeaux

Like millions of Americans, I did not win the megamillions lottery yesterday. Truthfully, I didn’t even buy a ticket, so my chances of winning were slightly less than most people’s. But that didn’t stop me from dreaming about what I would do with that unfathomable, almost obscene amount of money. Most of my fantasies began and ended with extravagant and copious travel. But they also included giving to charity and making my close friends and family fabulously wealthy. For a few days a lot of people participated in this exercise of hypothetical musing; if money were no object, what would I do with my life?

For years I’ve been reading about, and wondering about the experience of tasting a premiere cru Bordeaux, specifically, Haut-Brion; though, truth be told, I’d certainly not pass up the opportunity to try a Chateau Margaux. Priced between $1200 and $1400 a bottle, it’s doubtful I will ever know what they taste like. But even if I saved up a dollar a day for the next 1400 days, I wonder how tasting the greatest wine in the world would effect me. Is it possible that a wine that great would ruin all other wines for me forever? That’s not an unrealistic fear. A bottle of Yellow Tail Shiraz is quite satisfactory, if it’s all we know.

Penfold's Koonunga Hill Shiraz

Last night I opened a bottle of 2009 Penfold’s Koonunga Hill Shiraz. The aromas of this dark garnet wine were meaty, with hints of vanilla. It tasted of bright cherries, with just enough acidity to give it an olive flavor. The tannins were velvety smooth. It was heavy enough to stand up to the roast beef. For under ten bucks, it was a great little week night wine treat.

Several years ago I read the book Stumbling on Happiness by Daniel Gilbert. According to the book, studies have shown that the happiest people are those firmly in the middle-class. People with enough money to meet their basic needs, but not so much that they spend a lot of time thinking and worrying about their money, have the least amount of stress, and the most amount of happiness in their lives.

Stumbling on Happiness by Daniel Gilbert

Even though I didn’t win hundreds of millions of dollars yesterday, I can still do the things I fantasized about. I can still give to charities, just on a much smaller scale. I can still travel, within a careful budget. I can still do a lot of things for my close friends and family to make them happy. For example, this week, I will not be making my loved ones’ lives more stressful by encumbering them with fabulous wealth…You’re welcome.

Mothers, Sons, and Carmenere

In the 18th and 19th centuries, the Carmenere grape grew alongside her sisters, Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon in Bordeaux. All three of them grew up with their parents, Cabernet Franc and Sauvignon Blanc. But after the phylloxera outbreak that destroyed so many of the vineyards of Europe between 1863 and 1889, Carmenere was thought to have been completely destroyed. She was thought to have been wiped off the face of the earth.

When my son was in grade school, a co-worker of mine, who had 5 grown sons of her own, told me that around the age of 10, boys start to pull away from their mothers. “You’ll feel like you’ve lost him forever,” she told me. “But then when they’re around 16, they come back to you.” I had never heard that before, but her words stuck with me.

In 1996 Carmenere reappeared in Chile! Sometime in the 18th century before the phylloxera outbreak, cuttings of vines thought to be Merlot were transplanted in Chile. Up until they were DNA tested, Carmenere continued to thrive under her mistaken identity. Now, she’s come back to us. She is no longer one of the grapes in a standard Bordeaux blend. In Chile, she stands on her own, as a single varietal.

Now, that my son is 16, I can look back and confirm my co-worker’s wisdom. My little boy did pull away from me for several years, and now he’s back. He’s not the cute little, funny buddy he was 8 years ago when he came with me on every errand, and told me everything that was going on in his life. He’s still cute, but he’s now taller than me. He’s still funny, but now his humor is purposeful and witty. He doesn’t tell me everything, but conversations with my son are much more interesting and intelligent then they were eight years ago.

Responding to Terroir

Carmenere Grapes

Merlot Grapes

Cabernet Sauvignon Grapes

Three of the Bordeaux grapes can be traced to the same parents.  Cabernet Sauvignon, Carmenere, and Merlot are all genetically related to Cabernet Franc and Sauvignon Blanc.  All of these grapes grow in Bordeaux.  Yet, their terrior requirements are different.  Merlot, which is prevalent on the right bank of the Dordogne River, grows best in a cool, damp climate.  Clay soil holds in moisture, and Merlot vines do well in it.  Cabernet Sauvignon, the king of the left bank of the Gironde River needs heat and does best in a self-draining, gravel soil.  Carmenere, practically an identical twin to Merlot, has been all but banished from Bordeaux, but she has reappeared, unexpectedly in Chile, where she shuns too much water as well as too much heat.  Though genetically related, each of these grapes needs different soils and climates.

 

When my son was young and needed to be reprimanded, I very quickly learned that ‘time-out’ had absolutely no effect on him, nor did a scolding.  Molding his behavior was frustrating, until I discovered that taking away a toy as a consequence did have an effect on him.  He responded positively to that negative reinforcement.  My daughter, on the other hand, was unphased when I used the same technique on her.  She found another toy and continued playing uneffected.  However, she did respond positively to time-out.  For whatever reason, sitting in a chair in the kitchen was something she would avoid at all costs. 

 

Our parenting style is part of our children’s ‘terroir.’  We set the conditions and climates in which they will grow.  Not all children respond the same way to the same conditions.  Just like the grapes that are genetically related, but have different growing needs, so each child responds differently to different environments.  Finding what’s most nurturing for each of our children is one of the great challenges and rewards of parenting.

Genetics and Absence

Cabernet Sauvignon, that magnificent, powerful, tannic grape that gave Bordeaux its fame and put California on the world stage of wine, is the love child of two other very familiar grapes.  His mother is the sleek and sexy Sauvignon Blanc and his father is Cabernet Franc.  Both of his parents are from Bordeaux, and each gave one of their names to him.

My great-grandfather was not much of an influence on my grandfather’s life, except through his name and his absence.  My grandfather only remembered meeting his father two times; once when he was a young teenager and his father came to ask for money from his older brothers.  The second time was when my grandfather was in his late 20′s, and supporting his own young family in the midst of the great depression.  His father, who had been a stranger in his life, stopped by his office to once again ask for money.  He remains a stranger to his descendents.  We have, yet to find any documented proof of his existence other than his marriage certificate.  Perhaps, he was born at home, and his family never bothered to record the birth with the county.  It was 1875, after all.  Perhaps, he was born to a single mother, and she never recorded the birth with the county out of shame.  He may well have died in poverty, unknown, and buried in a pauper’s grave.  His death may have gone by unnoticed and unrecorded.  Whatever the reasons, he seems to be as elusive in death as he was in life.  Yet, I can only surmise from the fact that my grandfather looked nothing like his mother, that this mystery man of the family lived on genetically through my grandfather.

Durif is not as popular as Cabernet Sauvignon, but she is quite a wonderful grape that produces a very serious, dry wine.  And through genetics her ancestry has been discovered.  She is the love child of Peloursin, Durif’s not very well-known father, and Syrah, her quite famous, round and spicy mother from the Rhone valley.  You’ll probably never see a bottle of ‘Durif’ wine, however.  She goes by her family name, Petite Sirah.

My grandfather did get two things from his father, his looks and his last name.  But his character was the antithesis of his father’s character.  Where his father was absent, my grandfather was loyal and dedicated to his family.  He worked hard all his life from the time he was 5 years old.  He was very involved with his church and his community.  He was very present in all the lives he touched.  My grandfather may well have been the devoted family man that he was not just in spite of, but because of his father’s absence.

Wine, Music and Ancestors; the Back Story

My son recently had the opportunity through honor band to learn from a guest composer/conductor, Robert W. Smith.  It was a great experience for him.  The thing my son enjoyed the most was that the Mr. Smith had the back story on every composition they performed.  “I like knowing the back story.  It brings the music to life, ” my son observed.

I’ve just recently begun searching for my ancestors through familysearch.org and ancestry.com.  It’s been both fascinating and frustrating.  I can find neither a birth certificate nor a death certificate for my great grandfather, who remains a family mystery.  But through my search I was able to find his marriage license as well as a photo of my great grandmother, one I had never seen before.  It was quite a thrill to find her face on line.  Each bit of information, each document gives me a better picture of their lives.  The 1910 census created a mental image for me of my 5 year old grandfather living in his grandparents’ house with his 3 brothers and his mother.  It also told me that by then, mystery man, my great grandfather, had disappeared.  The stories of my ancestors bring them to life for me.

I live an easy drive to much of California’s wine country.  While I love Napa and Sonoma, there are some beautiful vineyards closer to my home, and those are in the wine country of the Sierra Foothills.  The wines from that area are not as elegant and polished as the Napa Cabs, but they are crisp and earthy.  Many can be quite wonderful.  The volcanic and granite soils of the Sierra Foothills do well with Rhone Valley grapes such as Syrah, Mourvedre, and Grenache.  Some wineries do well with other Mediterranean reds such as Sangiovese, Barbera, and Petite Sirah.  As I research the area, I’m learning more about the individual vineyards and their back stories.  Knowing the back story brings the wine to life.

Aroma and Memory Filtered Through the Epitheleum

“Whenever I smell baking bread, I think of my grandmother.” That’s what a
friend recently said to me. We had been talking about wine and aromas when the
conversation turned to the power of smells and the memories they evoke.

When aromas are inhaled, for example during the ‘sniffing’ portion of a wine
tasting, the esters, or airborne chemical compounds are filtered through the
olfactory epithelium. The epithelium is a cluster of nerve endings located in
the retro nasal passage. The nerves in the epithelium transmit the scent to the
brain. The brain then identifies the scents. The Olfactory bulb in the brain
which identifies the scent is part of the limbic system. The limbic system is
the part of the brain most closely associated with feeling and memory. This is
why smells so often trigger memories and bring up emotions more readily then our
other senses.

“Last night while watching tv with Megan, I saw an Olive Garden commercial
with the price “$8.95″ shown. The dork in me started mental calculations:
“Lessee, that’s 9, no $10 with tax, plus beverages…and tip…so basically the
four of us wouldn’t get out of there for less than $75-80….for bread, pasta
and lettuce…sure, its “endless” but the ingredients couldn’t be cheaper.”…
then a minute later I realized that I had been calculating a dinner tab for the
four of us, not 3.” This was a face book status post by an acquaintance who lost
his teenage son last year in a freak accident. His friends posted their
sympathy, but he corrected them, saying that the moment wasn’t sad but sweet to
him. I had to think about that.

So much of our daily lives are spent in an alert and focused state of mind.
But it’s in our habitual thinking, in our distracted thinking, and in our scent
memories, where we find moments when people we’ve lost, live on. With scents,
it’s almost like they are there with us physically, because we are experiencing
a physical sensation that we associate with them.

A wine with great, complex aromas is wonderful. But the best wines are those
enjoyed with great company. In those wines the memory of the wine’s aromas
become fused with the memory of the evening and the conversation. So that the
wine is no longer merely a physical manifestation of its own terroir. It becomes
a physical manifestation of our most cherished memories.

Shiraz, the Large and Small of It

Thorn-Clarke, Terra-Barossa Shiraz, 2009

I have a friend who knows a lot about wine.  She’s a certified wine specialist, she studies wine, works with wine, and has tasted many wines.  Whenever I ask her advice on a wine selection, without fail, she guides me toward the small winery wines.  This is especially true with imported wines.  Her feeling is that larger wineries, while often producing very good, consistent wines, are lacking in character.  Their wines are too consistent which makes them uninteresting.  I suppose that’s true for people who know a lot about wines.  I’m still learning about them.  I haven’t, yet, mastered what a Shiraz should taste like.  Because of this, I feel ill equipped to appreciate the nuances of a Shiraz with character.

The top wine producer in Australia is, not surprisingly, a multi-winery corporation, Foster’s Wine Estates.  They own Penfolds and Lindeman’s among others.  Penfold’s has garnered awards from professionals.  Lindeman’s is consistently solid and affordable.  Being owned by a large corporation hasn’t hurt the quality of the wines.  I think it’s fair to say, it has cemented the consistency of the wines.

Thorn-Clarke is a family owned winery in the Barossa region of Australia.  While it’s not a small winery, neither is it in the top 20 of Australian wine producers.  The Barossa region is known for its Shiraz-friendly climate.  When I tried the Thorn-Clarke, Terra-Barossa, 2009 Shiraz last night, it was easy to appreciate the wine’s earthy nose, with a beautiful, vibrant, dark cherry flavor and just a hint of kalamata olive in the back of my throat.  The black cherry flavor is typical for an Australian Shiraz.  If I had let the wine age a little longer, it would have taken on more chocolate and anise flavors that I have detected in Yellow Tail, Penfold’s, and Lindeman’s Shiraz.  Each of these wines displays the qualities of the Shiraz grape, yet each wine tastes a little different from the others.  I can’t say that the smaller winery wine is better or not as good as the big, corporate winery wine.  To me having so many different interpretations of the same grape is what makes wine interesting.

Wine and Music

I recently read the book, The Power of Music by Elena Mannes.  In this fascinating book, the author goes into great detail about how we experience music physically.  For example, different frequencies vibrate different bones throughout our bodies.  Of course it is in our brains where the bulk of the physical effects of music take place.  Different elements of music activate different areas of the brain.  We experience tempo on the parietal and frontal lobes, meter activates the basal ganglia, melody lights up the parahippocampal and cerebellar cortices.  And of course, we can’t hear the music without using the auditory cortex.  The act of listening to music creates its own symphony of activity in the brain.  No single element is more important than the other.  All must work in concert in order for our brains to experience the music.

Cupcake Red Velvet, 2009

Cupcake has come out with an unusual blend of big flavor reds.  In Red Velvet they have blended Zinfandel with Merlot, Cabernet Sauvignon and Petite Sirah.  No supporting characters here, each of these famous grapes can stand alone.  Together they make a powerful, yet surprisingly smooth wine.  Red Velvet is lush, earthy, and tannic with just a hit of good acidity.  It has nice red fruit and subtle spice flavors that mix well with the wine’s structure.  It’s a lovely sipping wine that holds up well with meaty Italian dishes.

Sometimes, with both wine and music, so many elements are put forth, that the thing as a whole becomes loud and confusing.  But sometimes all the elements come together beautifully and seamlessly.  While my brain or palate may be intensely stimulated by the plethera of elements, the end result is pure delight.