When I uncork a bottle of zinfandel, I am sometimes reminded of the Bob Dylan line "There's no success like failure and failure's no success at all." That's because when many producers of California's signature grape think they're succeeding, I think they're failing.
Specifically, success for many zinfandel producers means turning out raisiny, almost port-like reds that have a big lemon wedge of acidity. I've heard some noted producers describe that extreme, tart, raisin-pie style as the quintessence of zinfandel.
But smarter producers know that such claims are just a way of making a virtue out of a vice, specifically laissez-faire farming practices.
A peculiar trait of the zinfandel vine is its extremely tight clusters. This creates two headaches for the grape grower.
The first is rot. Because air can't move freely between the berries, the cluster has a tendency to invite mould. This not only contributes to the funky flavour, but also dries out the berries and leads to oxidation and port-like syrupiness.
Arguably a more challenging problem is the tendency of the bunch to ripen unevenly. Grapes need solar exposure to ripen well and transform from acidic-green marbles to sweet, dark berries. Unless a grower prunes aggressively and almost daily to trim the shady leaf canopy, particularly in the fruit zone, the vine will yield bunches of vastly varying ripeness. (Fortunately, pruning also helps to rectify the mould problem.)
Bad growers, as a way of compensating, simply let the bunches hang long into the autumn, waiting for the marble-hard green berries to turn red. But by that time the already-dark berries have shrivelled into raisins. That's how you get a raisin-pie zin.
Adherents to this overripe school will, with some justification, call the resulting wines balanced, since the extreme sweetness gets a dry lift from the high acidity of the green berries. But I think such wines are just wonky and inelegant. It's like putting a Prius engine in a Hummer to improve the latter's mileage (why not just drive a Jeep?).
Today's fine-wine release at Ontario Vintages stores shines the spotlight on 13 California zinfandels, and the selections cover the waterfront. It goes without saying that my favourites veer away from the twin extremes of portiness and tongue-lashing acidity.
Good zinfandel is always ripe and full-bodied, though, and usually high in alcohol, typically 14 to 17 per cent. Don't expect a delicate pinot noir experience when you uncork a zin. You can usually enjoy a glass on its own, but for a real treat, try pairing it with barbecued ribs, spicy meats or even a burger with the works.
Without question, one of the more elegant offerings in the release is Storybook Mountain Zinfandel Mayacamas Range 2002 ($39.95, product No. 682989). This bright, medium-bodied offering from Napa Valley shows juicy cherry and earthy flavours, with nuances of sandalwood, tobacco and spice. Stylish and nicely balanced, it's built for five to 10 years of cellaring.
Showing more concentration, and my overall favourite of the release, is Ravenswood Teldeschi Zinfandel 2002 ($44.95, No. 684589). This winery built its reputation on the full-tilt, raisiny style, but some of its higher-priced selections are smartly restrained despite their big body. The Teldeschi, from the prime zin district of Dry Creek Valley in Sonoma County, is brimming with blackberry fruit, coffee and black pepper, pulled together with astringent tannins.
From a price-quality perspective, it's hard to beat Geyser Peak Block Collection Sandy Lane Vineyard Zinfandel 2002 ($24.95, No. 678805). The cherry flavour is almost liqueur-like, with plenty of warmth that almost veers into medicinal territory (perhaps owing to the 15.3-per-cent alcohol), but then brightens up and becomes very juicy on the finish.
Rosenblum Zinfandel Annette's Reserve 2003 ($44.94, No. 686204) has big espresso-coffee flavour, with a thick, creamy texture and luscious vanilla and chocolate flavours that impressively mask the whopping 16.2-per-cent alcohol. It's very seductive.
