I love a good Cabernet Franc — that’s just a fact. And I’ve been so happy to see it grow as a common varietal within the last few years. Read a few of my Cab Franc highlights. When done well, there’s an aged elegance to it — even in its younger years. I love the innate pepperiness of the variety; the touchable, suede-like tannins in the wine varietal; and I love that mouthful — because it is a mouthful — of fruit, earth, and spice all combine into a celebration of this foundational grape.
Ever since my first taste of Tannat, I’ve been hooked. Whether from California, Oregon, or it’s modern official homeland, Uruguay. And my experience with Y. Rousseau’s rosé of Tannat was exquisite. So you can imagine my excitement when I saw pretty pink wine in my Stinson Vineyards package.
After the fun rosé I experienced from Stinson Vineyards, I was curious and hopeful about what their Chardonnay would present. Chardonnay is something I’m not stranger to. It’s the most widely planted wine grape here in California. Styles span a whole spectrum — from oaky, creamy “butterbombs,” to crystal clear and crisp. How a Chardonnay presents relies almost entirely on the winemaker and less so on the soil. But a chance to taste from the east coast doesn’t present itself very often. So I was eager to taste what the other side of our States had so say about California’s great white grape.
I was extremely excited when I opened my package from Stinson Vineyard to find a rosé of Mourvèdre. Ever since I’ve tasted the version created by Larry Schaffer of Tercero in Santa Barbara, California, I’ve been in love with this kind of wine innovation. A rustic red turned rosé? Yes please. But to taste something from the other side of the country, from White Hall, Virginia, was to taste something completely different.
Riesling. Oh Riesling. You poor stereotyped varietal. While I’ve had some fun and, for lack of a better word, tasty Rieslings from the States, I have to say that, for the most part, what our New World has done to the variety is a bit of a shame. What’s more, is I feel like there’s a bit of a stigma surrounding German wines — a few sweet Gewürztraminers and suddenly folks think everything from the cool Rhine region is sweet. When, in fact, it is just the opposite. For the most part Germans tend to make (and enjoy) the dryer style wines (and warm beer, but that’s a different story).
Lucky for me I made a new friend at a local wine shop. A sommelier whose specialty is German and Austrian wine. So when I asked him to pour my anything he recommended that would help me discover the area, he asked “how do you feel about Riesling.” My response, “As long as its as dry as God intended it.” So this is what he poured me. This is what I bought. This is what I enjoyed again and can’t wait to enjoy again.