With so many important Cabernet Sauvignons and Bordeaux blends yet to be released from the 2009 vintage, it may be premature to make pronouncements about it. Still, I’m beginning to have my doubts.

As early as December 1, 2009, I wrote (in my vintage assessment for Wine Enthusiast), “The fuller-bodied reds from the North Coast, especially Cabernet Sauvignon, could be problematic.” The main problem was a major rainstorm on Oct. 12-13 that soaked Napa. That led to the classic question, “Did you pick before or after the rains?” As one Diamond Mountain winemaker put it, in an official press release, “The rain will define the harvest depending on which side of it you were on.” She warned that fruit picked after the rain would have “slightly lower sugars,” but don’t be misled by that word “slightly.” We’re talking about the difference between perfectly ripened grapes and less [or more] than perfectly ripened grapes, which really is the key for Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon.

My hunch, given how cool 2009 was–and it was a very cool season, the start of our notorious trio of “little ice age” vintages of 2009, 2010 and 2011–is that most Cabernet was not picked before the rains came, because it wasn’t ripe.

It is true that the rain was followed by a period of warm, sunny weather, the kind that, in theory, can dry out the vines and canopies and restore the grapes to health. But having rain followed by sun at that precarious time of the harvest is never as good as having no rain at all, which is why I used the word “problematic.” The problems include having grapes swollen with water, which would reduce their power and make them thin. This problem would be compounded by the size of the 2009 harvest, which was a large one, the biggest since 2005, and the second biggest of the decade.

And mold is also a very serious threat, especially for wineries that lack the professional staff to hand-sort out bad berries before they reach the fermentation tanks. Almost all wineries go through the motions of sorting, but few are wealthy enough to have the deep bench necessary to deal with a vintage like 2009. This is another reason why the top houses (which is to say, the most expensive wines) will have a leg up in 2009.

Still, as one North Coast vintner told me, “Big harvest + rain soaked quality isn’t a good combination.” Another winemaker, whom I respect a great deal, told me, “I just think 2009 was too cool over all. When you look at the great vintages in CA they tend to be the warmer ones.” This vintner allowed as to how 2009 might be good for coastal Pinot Noir (although he noted, and so did I, the early hype that accompanied it). But we’re not talking about Pinot Noir here.

I have now reviewed about 125 2009 Cabernet Sauvignons and, sad to say, my scores have not been impressive. Only a handful of 90-plusses. Thankfully, most of these wines aren’t terribly expensive, ranging from $18-$30. A typical one, which I won’t identify because my review has not yet been published, read: “A little sharp and aggressive in texture, giving it a rustic feel, but pretty rich in blackberries, currants and cedar, making it an easy Cab to drink now.” It is that aggressiveness that worries me. You want a nice Cabernet to feel smooth in the mouth, with gentle, warming tannins that glide like velvet across the palate. The slightest hint of coarseness can be jarring. Given how strong Cabernet’s tannins are, if the fruit doesn’t match it, the wines will taste and feel astringent. That’s my fear for 2009.

I was thinking why I haven’t given as many high scores to Pinot Noir as to Cabernet Sauvignon, when I realized there’s a perfectly good reason. Can you guess why?

It’s not because I don’t believe California Pinot Noir isn’t as great as Cabernet. It is, although Cabernet’s been great for a much longer time than Pinot. And I don’t think it’s because I have some preconceived notion that Pinot Noir can’t score as highly as Cabernet, although I admit that, if I did have such a notion, I might not be consciously aware of it. People have asked me why Sauvignon Blanc (for example) never scores as highly as Chardonnay. Is it due to something inherent in Sauvignon Blanc, or something in me?

Well, Sauvignon Blanc is a topic for future reflection. Right now, the answer to the question why I don’t score Pinot as highly as Cabernet is because Pinot Noir goes wrong much more often than Cabernet. And I do mean at the highest levels.

A grape chemist can explain to you why Pinot is a more transparent wine than Cabernet. There are some critics out there who like to throw around technical terms, like anthocyanins, without a proper understanding of what they are or do. I’m not one of them. I’ll let the enologists deal with that, if they agree to stay away from reviewing wines.

But Pinot is more transparent than Cabernet. Cabernet is a heavy wine. It’s tannic and full-bodied, and often very oaky, and sometimes, when I’m tasting a Cabernet, I imagine a large, furry animal in my mouth. With such a wine, flaws can be hidden, to a reasonable degree. A little too much or too little acidity? There’s room in Cabernet for a margin of error either way. Tough tannins? Cabernet is forgiving. To some extent, you want tough tannins in a proper Cabernet, which is what makes it ageable. Some herbaceousness indicating less than properly ripened fruit? Not a problem. There’s generally so much fruit in a California Cabernet that a touch of green olives and herbs is welcome. What I’m looking for in Cabernet is richness, and I find it more often than not in Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon, which is why I’ve given so many (Vine Cliff, Araujo, Alpha Omega, Venge, Krutz, Au Sommet, Paul Hobbs, Vineyard 7&8, Macauley, Long Meadow Ranch, Moone-Tsai, Staglin) such high scores this year alone.

But the margin of error for Pinot Noir is considerably narrower. Or maybe a better way of saying it is that Pinot Noir is so transparent that, ultimately, it’s the most unforgiving variety. There was a book a while back, The Heartbreak Grape, about Josh Jensen, at Calera, and “a heartbreaker” is exactly what Pinot Noir is. Pinot either is perfect, or it isn’t. And the sad truth is that 99.99999% of Pinot Noir is never perfect, meaning that there is an almost existential certainty that when you taste one, no matter how great it is, you’re going to mourn the fact that something, somewhere, is wrong.

It could be anything. For me, when acidity is off in Pinot Noir, it’s jarring. Too much, and the wine has a mean, nasty streak, like a yappy little dog that nips at your ankles. I hate that, and will take 5 or 6 points off a Pinot for that reason alone. And don’t tell me that high acidity will help a California Pinot age. It won’t–especially when the winemaker added it after the fact.

A little sweetness in Cabernet isn’t a flaw and, as a matter of fact, can be a virtue, if you have a California palate, as I do. Almost all the wines I listed above taste sweet. Cabernet wants that lush, chocolatey richness; it tolerates it well, the way a big-boned person can look good while packing away a few extra pounds. But sweetness in Pinot Noir sticks out like a sore thumb. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve lowered a score because the wine turned sugary at the last moment.

The herbaceousness I mentioned that can be good in Cabernet is a severe minus in Pinot Noir. Just a trace of green, from unripe seeds or stems or whatever, can overwhelm an otherwise nice Pinot, making it sharp and minty. Not good. On the other hand, too much caramelized oak on Pinot is the worst thing in the world. I think you could probably give a good Napa Cabernet the exact same new oak treatment as a Pinot, only in Cabernet’s case it would be fine, whereas the Pinot would be a disaster.

I’ve gone through only a couple differences between Pinot and Cabernet, but the bottom line is that Pinot is so fickle and finicky that it screams out every possible little thing that’s wrong with it. Cabernet seduces and charms. It’s easy to fall in love with Cabernet and have a great time with it, never noticing little flaws because it’s so entrancing. And that’s why I give more high scores, and higher scores, to Cabernet Sauvignon than to Pinot Noir.

People are always asking me, “What’s your favorite wine?”, to which I invariably reply, “The one I’m drinking now.” If they press me, I’ll say Champagne (or sparkling wine). If they really want to get down with me, I’ll tell them Pinot Noir.

I decided some years ago I liked California Pinot Noir even more than Cabernet Sauvignon, but I was never entirely sure about it. Whenever I tasted a great Pinot Noir, I’d be thrilled not only with the wine itself, but with an appreciation of how far, how fast this variety has come in California. It would have been inconceivable in the 1990s for me to have preferred Pinot over Cabernet, and I think the same could be said for most of the working critics of that time. However by the late 1990s, certainly by the early 2000s, if someone knowledgeable had said they thought Pinot had overtaken Cabernet, at least nobody would have suggested a forced trip to the psycho ward.

As much as I’ve liked Pinot, the reason I wasn’t quite sure it was my favorite was because every time I did a great Cabernet flight, it would blow my mind and remind me once again that Cabernet had been my first love and, while I might have flirted a bit with this racy young upstart, Pinot Noir, I was destined always to return to Cabernet. Dance with the one that brought ya, the old saying goes, and it was Cabernet Sauvignon that had brought me to the ball.

So I went into the database today so see what my top wines have been so far this year, and, not surprisingly, Cabernet Sauvignon dominates the list. The top 5 are all Cabernet or Bordeaux blends. What is surprising, though, is that two of them are not from Napa Valley! Those would be Stonestreet’s 2007 Rockfall and Verité’s 2006 La Joie, both astounding wines. Of course, one could argue that both of them are from the west-facing slopes of the Mayacamas Mountains, separated only by an accident of geography from being in Napa County, instead of Sonoma County.

My #6 wine was Williams Selyem’s 2008 Litton Estate Pinot Noir, a wine I’ve loved ever since I first tasted it. (The name henceforth will be Estate, not Litton.) It’s a big Pinot Noir, not for the faint-hearted, and I guess you could criticize it for not being “Burgundian” enough, but that’s not a criticism I share. My #7 wine was a sweetie, Dolce 2006, and it should never be surprising to see Dolce appear on anyone’s top list. It’s consistently one of California’s great dessert wines. What perhaps is a little surprising is that my #8 wine is a sparkler: Schramsberg’s 2004 J. Schram Rosé, possibly the greatest California sparkling wine I’ve ever had the pleasure to review. After that, we revert back to Pinot Noir for the #9 wine, Joseph Swan’s 2007 Trenton Estate, which with its acids and tannins reflects its southern Russian River Valley roots. In tenth place, last but not least, is Qupe’s 2006 X Block “The Good Nacido” Syrah.

This list makes me happy and proud. It certainly wasn’t premeditated for me to have Cabernets, Pinots, a sweet wine, a sparkling wine and a Syrah in my Best of 2011 (so far) list. But there you are. What it tells me is how well California is doing in many different varieties, at least at the upper tier.

After that Qupe Syrah, #11 is another Syrah, Donelan’s 2008 Richards Vineyard, from Sonoma Valley. But get ready for this: #s 12-22 are all Cabernet Sauvignon or Bordeaux blends. I don’t see another Pinot Noir until #27, the Babcock 2009 Microcosm. So I guess I’d have to say, if you make me put my hand on a Bible in a court of law and swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth concerning my favorite wine, I’d say, “Based on the evidence, it would be Cabernet Sauvignon.” But in my heart of hearts, I wouldn’t really believe it.

Oz Clark has it just about right when he says the big California style is here to stay.

The British wine-writing wordsmith, one of the world’s most successful wine book authors, accuses the “wine chatterati” of getting it all wrong in their mistaken conclusion that there’s a revolution in California away from high alcohol wines [back] toward the lower alcohol, less ripe wines that they–the chatterati–consider more balanced and elegant.

I’m glad the word finally has filtered across The Pond. I’ve been saying it for years: this supposed “trend” toward lower alcohol wine is largely a fiction invented and perpetuated by writers who (a) wish it were true and (b) need something sexy to write about in their columns and on their blogs.

You, dear readers, would be surprised and appalled to learn about the pressures on writers to discover trends and report on breaking developments in the world of wine. This pressure comes from editors, who want to put the word “new” or “trendy” in every headline and on every front cover. A headline like this:

NEW LOW ALCOHOL TREND CATCHES WINEMAKERS BY SURPRISE

is much catchier than this:

MOST WINES CONTINUE TO BE MADE IN THE USUAL FASHION,

but the latter headline, while true, happens to dull and un-newsworthy. What’s a writer to do when the trend he wishes were happening isn’t? He just goes ahead and cites it anyway, and is able to trot out enough examples to make his claim sound credible (often by the popular but suspect practice of “quote shopping”).

In the case of a “trend” toward lower alcohol, the names of Cathy Corison and Copain are often cited as proof that wines–at least, Cabernet Sauvignon and Pinot Noir–are being made lower in alcohol. But these writers almost never point out that Corison and Copain are outliers. The reason we single out their wines–justifiably, for they are incredibly good–is because they’re so different from 90% of the other high-scoring Cabs and Pinots that are not low in alcohol.

I myself haven’t done a scientific analysis of the approximately 10,000 wines I’ve reviewed in the last 2-1/2 years (I have no way of doing so), but I can tell you, as someone who has to double-check the alcohol-by-volume level (according to the label) of every one of those wines before it goes into Wine Enthusiast’s database, when it comes to Cabernet and Pinot Noir, the number “15” is a lot more common than the number “13” (as in 15.4% vs. 13.5%). The number “14” marks the highest quantity of these wines, but in my opinion most wines labeled as 14.5% alcohol (the majority) are higher than that, often considerably so, given the TTB’s rather slippery allowance of a degree of difference. So let us dispel the notion that California wines are getting lower in alcohol. They’re not.

Now, having said that, there are complications. Coastal California is undergoing a cooling trend. The temperature in Napa Valley is not getting hotter (and if you have data to contradict me, please send it). The last six vintages have been cool, 2009-2010 severely so, and 2011 may be following suit; the upshot being that a cooler vintage will, overall, result in lower alcohol wines. But not by much, “cool” in California being a relative term; and even in cool years, we have heat spikes that raise brix by several degrees overnight. Then too, we have no idea whether or not many Cabs and Pinots are actually being produced at 15%-16% and then having their alcohol reduced through a variety of means. Your 14.1% Cabernet may have started life out considerably higher, and then gone to see the equivalent of a Beverly Hills plastic surgeon for a tummy tuck and facelift. Do you consider a manipulated 14.1% wine “low alcohol”?

Bottom line: Be wary of predictions that California wines are getting lower in alcohol; certainly not Cabernet Sauvignon from Napa Valley. Consumers (and critics) have stated over and over that they like the big, voluptuously ripe style (I certainly do, if it’s balanced). That gives producers absolutely no incentive to change, which is why they won’t. Kudos to Oz Clark for telling it like it is.

Can we get one thing perfectly clear? California Cabernet Sauvignon is big.

End of story. Stop your whining that it’s too fruity, oaky, alcoholic and sweet. You want dry and earthy, go get some Bordeaux Superiéur and enjoy. And stop, puh-leeze, trotting out Cathy Corison every time as your poster child for what you think Cabernet should be.

The latest is Jon Bonné, in yesterday’s San Francisco chronicle, who says the 2008 Napa Cabs “swagger.”

swagger. To walk with a bold, arrogant or lordly stride; strut. To boast, brag, or show off in a loud, superior manner. [from Webster’s New World Dictionary]

Interesting choice of words. Whether or not it occurred to Jon spontaneously, or he turned to his Thesaurus, it’s clear he was looking for some form of insult. It’s all right for somebody not to like Napa Cabernet, but Jon’s complaint is a continuation of his meme that there’s “a general move [in California]…toward lighter winemaking and more nuance. For better or worse, Napa’s fame is still built on a big foundation of impact.”

His theory is that 2008, a cool vintage (although not as cool as 2009 or 2010 or as 2011 so far is looking) might have been “a year that could offer subtlety. Yet subtlety has been harder to come by in this realm [of Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon]. For all the talk of ripeness being dialed back and a lighter hand in the cellar, we’re still plodded [another interesting choice of word] through a forest’s worth of oak…and alcohol levels that averaged in the high 14 percents.”

A “straw dog” is something (an idea or plan) set up to be knocked down. There’s a bunch of critics out there who have set up the idea that California wine is way too high in alcohol. They then further posit some kind of “general move” toward lighter alcohol which they assert is a historical imperative. Then, when they find wines that are “in the high 14 percents” if not even higher, they accuse them of marching against history–of being out of touch “swaggerers” in need of slapping down.

Let’s get the record straight. There is not nor has there been a “general move” to lower alcohol levels on Cabernet Sauvignon nor should there be. Cathy Corison aside (and I have great respect for her wines), the best Cabernets are going to average from the mid to high 14s through the low to mid 15s in percent of alcohol, and if a critic can’t handle that fact, he or she should just get out of the business of reviewing Cab and stick to European wines or maybe Pinot Grigio.

Some of my top scoring Cabernets over the last year or so have been from Stonestreet, Venge, Trefethen, Araujo, Vine Cliff, Paul Hobbs, Krutz and Au Sommet, and all would, I imagine, be in the crosshairs of critics like Jon. I guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree, but I do find it odd that, after his lamentation (I won’t call it a rant), Jon’s team found themselves able to recommend a clutch of ‘08 Cabs with fairly high alcohol, like Rock Wall’s, Chappellet’s Pritchard Hill and even Mondavi’s, which officially clocks in at 15.3% (and as we all know, the real numbers could be considerably higher than what the label says, a point dramatically illustrated by Jon a few months ago when he exposed the discrepencies between claimed and actual ABV that are so routine).

So if I could persuade these critics to do one thing, it would be to cease complaining about alcohol levels in Cabernet Sauvignon. Cab got to where it is today–America’s top red wine–because it’s ripe, lusty and delicious. The top wines do not “swagger.” They sing, as Keri Hilson does on “Pretty Girl Rock”:

All eyes on me when I walk in,
No question that this girl’s a 10 Don’t hate me cause I’m beautiful. Don’t hate me cause I’m beautiful. My walk my talk the way I dress It’s not my fault so please don’t trip
Don’t hate me cause I’m beautiful Don’t hate me cause I’m beautiful

I did my annual visit to Harlan yesterday. Actually, I missed last year, so we went through the entire portfolio of both the 2007s, which were just released, and the 2008s, which will be out in Spring 2012. I will report my reviews and scores elsewhere, but in the meantime, some interesting issues popped up.

I tasted blind, alone. This took about 45 minutes, or about 3 minutes per wine, which is fast, but not exactly the power-tasting some critics practice. Afterward, Paul Roberts, the sommelier, and Don Weaver of Bill Harlan’s staff joined me. I particularly was glad that Paul, who had impressed me so much with his knowledge at the Taste of Oakville Master Class, was able to assist me in understanding the wines. Later, Mr. Harlan himself came in, and we all had a hearty conversation.

One of the topics that arose concerned blind tasting. I’m a bit infamous now at Harlan for always liking The Matriarch so much, and I did yet again with the 2007. It’s Bill’s least expensive wine, at $85 considerably less than many another Napa Bordeaux blend. (All of Bill Harlan’s wines are called red wine, even though many, maybe most, qualify legally as Cabernet Sauvignon.) The Matriarch is a blend of the five BOND wines ($340 each), which are single vineyard wines from vineyards Harlan does not own, but has rigorously developed over years before admitting them to BOND-dom.

Concerning Matriarch, I was interested in two things: How was it determined which lots of BOND go into BOND wines, as opposed to The Matriarch. Obviously, these are subjective decisions, arrived at by the team that does the deciding (winemakers, Michel Rolland, Paul, Bill, maybe Don — I’m not 100% sure). I would imagine there’s initial disagreement, as you’d expect there to be in any group decision, until consensus is reached. So there’s a certain arbitrariness to the selection process. (Some of the lots are even sold off as bulk.)

The other thing, which I asked Paul about specifically, was the old concept of whether a blended wine could not be more complete than a single vineyard wine, which might contain divots–slight deficiencies here and there, in acidity, tannins, color, aromatics, finish, etc. A blended wine, by contrast (remember, we’re talking theory) can be a more intricate tapestry. This is a trusted concept in wine, celebrated in Champagne, although not in terroir-intensive places like Burgundy (although I’ve had great California Pinot makers tell me there’s no reason why a blend of, say, Santa Rita Hills and Anderson Valley couldn’t make for a better wine than either one separately).

This is a touchy subject, one that critics justifiably might fear to broach, especially after having just praised the blend, as I had with 2007 Matriarch. Paul replied, as I knew he would, that while a blend such as The Matriarch might reflect the winemaker’s “craftsmanship” to a very high degree, it could never “break through” mere craftsmanship to “hit the pinnacle” of Grand Cru status.

This is a very powerful argument, one that is impossible to refute. It would be like saying that an authentic Da Vinci was no better than a painting from the School of Da Vinci. My reply was that I am apparently the only reviewer who tastes Harlan’s wines blind. It is very easy, when you are staring at the bottle, to be consistent and say that Harlan Estate shows a purity or power or whatever that Matriarch or The Maiden (which is a lot selection from the estate vineyard, made precisely the same way as Harlan Estate) do not. Anyone can find greater complexity in the BOND vineyard bottlings than in The Matriarch if they come prepared with that belief and the bottles are standing before them.

It is true that I found the 2008 Matriarch “a little rude,” as I wrote in my notes, and did not score it in the same league as the seven other 2008s. I think my hosts were pleased that, finally, I had stumbled into the truth that The Matriarch is of somewhat lesser quality than Maiden or the BONDS, much less Harlan Estate itself. But one thing Paul and to some extent Bill kept reverting to was that, while the wines early on may show attractive features, it’s the ability of the greater growths–the BONDS, Harlan ($750 and counting) and, I suppose to some extent, Maiden ($150)–to age over 15-20 years that makes them special, compared to Matriarch. To that, I could observe only that if Bill Harlan will invite me to some verticals of these wines, it might better help me to understand them when they’re young. I’m told he may be considering just that.