Cornerstone Napa Valley Cab 2006

I've been putting this post off for a few days because I wasn't sure what to say about this wine. I'm still not really sure. One word that comes to mind is 'ass-kicker' (is that a word?) I can also say this is a seriously age-worthy wine. I actually regret having opened it so soon. It was part of a sample I received some time ago already and it was tugging at my mind like little Tommy Bailey in It's a Wonderful Life ("s'cuse me! s'cuse me!"). There were actually two bottles of Cornerstone Cab in the sample. Thank God I only opened the one.

I was a little surprised to read on the Cornerstone Cellars website that this wine is "already approachable and will be drinking well very quickly." Okay, that makes me feel a little less like a baby murderer. I should add that Cornerstone also recommends aging their Napa Valley Cabs for three to five years, and failing that, decanting for two hours. All I did was pour it through a cheapo aerator. This feisty little bruiser certainly didn't take that lying down. It waged an all out assault on my tongue, and inspired me to sing a homophonous take on "O Tannenbaum."

Things in the bottle started to mellow out a bit after a day or two.
The nose is full of things like blackberry, black currant and licorice--anything black. Then, take a sip, and BAM! Juniper bush. Straight up. Oh, then there's some more licorice, and black stuff mid-palate that crescendos into a tart and herbal finish. Don't ask me what herb. It's probably a blend. Emeril's Essence or something. As the days wear on, some blueberry and violet start to emerge on the nose. And, wait...is that? Could it be? An actual hint of cherry on the finish? Anyway, definitely a contender for rochambeau champ at this stage.

On the whole, a bold, bad-ass wine. But, is it good? Well, the quality is certainly evident. It also needs a good deal more time in the bottle IMHO. I have no idea what another couple of years will do to the flavors in this wine. I could see it getting really meaty and irony like a bloody Chinon. I don't know what that juniper bush will do as it ages--this is where a vertical tasting would come in handy. Anyone done a vertical at the winery? Please share because I'm woefully lacking in comparisons for this bottle. As for the second bottle of Cornerstone Cab waiting in my mini-cellar, that's staying put for now.

What about the Trailside?

That's right! I still have to write a post about the OTBN wine we opened. It was pretty extravagant for us; the 2001 Heitz Cellar Trailside Vineyard Cabernet Sauvignon retails in the neighborhood of $120 per bottle. We actually procured ours through a screaming deal from Bin Ends. Screaming. It was so cheap it makes you wonder...

Anyway, back to the wine. I have to admit, it's a bit of an enigma. The nose is sublime. It's all canned bing cherries, and creamy vanilla ice cream, and almond. Wow, that sounds like a sundae. It's actually nothing like a sundae... There are light violet notes as well. On the other hand, take a sip of this bad boy and it's pretty tough. It was only bottled in 2005 (spending 3.5 years barrel-aging) so it could probably stand some more years in the bottle. It's flush with firm tannins but, the balance is there. It's very meaty in flavor with some eucalyptus overtones. I get a hint of raspberry, and cherry on the finish. Oh, by the way, it is not oaky at all despite all that time in oak.

I thought we had tried a 1998 Trailside when we visited the winery, but I guess it was the Martha's Vineyard. I understand Martha's Vineyard to be the flagship vineyard so it's probably not fair to say that the 2001 Trailside isn't quite in the same class as the 1998 Martha's. No matter. This isn't your typical Napa Cab and I appreciate that. A lot of Napa Cabs just taste like a cherry-red Porsche to me. Not literally! I mean in terms of gloss and inanimate flawlessness. This wine tastes real and I like that. I think I'm going to save our second bottle for 2013.

What's in a California Cult Cab?

I was fully prepared not to love this wine. I knew there was a good chance it would display evident oak, plush “busty” fruit, and spray-tan perfection…

What did I expect? Deep down, I was secretly hoping to be blown away by this pricey bottle of Napa Cabernet Sauvignon. After all, Cab is my comfort wine. I’m a displaced California girl and California wine is at the heart of my earliest experiences and love for wine. I have certain nostalgia for the full, fruity deliciousness of California wine.

The wine: Nicholls 2005 Cabernet Sauvignon produced and bottled at CrushPad, San Francisco. This is Nicholls’ flagship wine featuring fruit sourced from one of “Super grower” Andy Beckstoffer’s properties: Dr. Crane Vineyard. We ordered this bottle in late January out of curiosity to see what Crushpad’s clients are making. At that time this wine was retailing for $55 but, when I checked back recently it was up to $85$65(*see comments section). The Nicholls 2005 Pinot Noir took gold at the 2008 SF Chronicle Wine Competition.

“Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful.”
To be fair, we should have decanted this bottle. As it is, the first aroma off the first glass was oak. There was other stuff there too: cherry, cassis, vanilla, plum, blackberry, and a little pepper. This wine was certainly perfect right from the start (except for the slightly obtrusive oak). Great balance, yummy fruit, etc, yet, I felt a little like I was having dinner with a starlet: Good bones, perfect nails, hair and make-up, pleasant conversation but, is there anything else there? Are we likely to get a glimpse of the soul of this wine? [Resisting urge to insert photo of Lindsay Lohan here. You're welcome]

Coaxing or Hoaxing?
Craig Camp recently posted a great blog entry: Debating the Points: Spoofulation. The centerpiece of the post is an article by Clark Smith defending (quit deftly) manipulation in wine-making. Among the salient points are A) no wine-maker is going to let a batch go to pot if there is something that can be done to save it, and B) there is ‘spoofulating’ wine, and there is using the tools of the trade to tease out the nuances of the terroir. Ironically, I think the argument made by Clark Smith, Wine Villian could be applied to what was going on with a flight Châteauneuf du Pape we tasted last weekend. Several of the wines had characteristic subtleness of fruit which allowed the minerality to shine, and in order to achieve that result in the face of rising temps and brix in the region, the traditional wine-making technique was tweaked a bit. Conversely, we also tasted some traditionally made Châteauneuf du Pape which was getting closer to a New World style in the glass. That is to say: riper fruit, less minerality, and in some cases more oak.

I Don’t Know How They Did it
So, I tried the Nicholls again a couple of days later (and after tasting 9 Côtes du Rhône wines). Again, I noticed a sort of glossy perfection but, this time my reaction was a little different. The oak overtures had completely dissipated and I no longer felt aware of adjusted acidity, and smoothed edges. Now, there was a cool wet stone aroma and a slight wisp of mustard atop the underlying fruit. Now, on the palate, I began to notice more nuance; the balance and structure is phenomenal; maybe this fruit actually possessed some level of innate perfection to begin with before the wine-maker ever touched it.

New Age Wine
I definitely don’t want to dis this wine. It didn’t rock my world like a Sperino Uvaggio but, it was good, and it benefited me to drink it. It totally balanced my yang. This wine was like getting a dose of Chinese medicinal bark and mushroom tea. I know many of my east coast friends are going “huh?” but, you Californians know what I’m talking about…

California is Like Nowhere Man
This wine definitely brings visions of Lexus SUVs, fashionable restaurant facades, and jazz tunes (Take 5), in other words, it has a sense of place and that place is California. So, I can’t resist the temptation to bring up the question of California ‘terroir’: Has anyone done a flight of Sonoma Cabs next to a flight of Napa Cabs and been able to discern which AVA the Cab was grown and vinified in? To those who argue that California has no terroir, here is a question for you: If there had never been any AOCs, and rules saying “this is how wine will be made in XYZ Village”, would you still be able to distinguish between a wine made in Saint-Emilion and one made in say, Castillion-la-Bataille without a unifying conformity in the wine-making practices? Would these places still possess their own ‘terroir’?