I’m going to write a piece on the Atlas Peak AVA in the January, 2011, edition of Wine Enthusiast, so I’m not about to spill the beans here! But I do want to segue into a topic I was reminded of during my drive around the mountain, yesterday, when my host was Jan Krupp, one of the partners in Stagecoach Vineyard.

He was talking about how the growers and winemakers on Atlas Peak want to be better known, since the general feeling (with which I agree) is that Napa Valley’s other mountain AVAs — Diamond, Veeder, Spring and Howell — are more famous and esteemed than Atlas Peak. Although there are some pretty good historic reasons why that is so (and I’ll write about them in January), it set me thinking about AVAs, their reputations, and the role the media plays in establishing the latter.

If you think about it, AVAs, or appellations, are basically political entities. Yes, they’re supposed to be based on real soil and climate patterns, and, yes, the U.S. Treasury Department, which has the responsibility of okaying them, makes petitioners jump through a lot of hoops to prove their case.

But what many people don’t know are all the compromises involved,  especially over precisely where the boundary lines are. I’ve never heard of an AVA application to Treasury that didn’t take years of wrangling over who would and who wouldn’t be included. And, as those of us know who’ve covered California for a while, some of the AVA lines make no sense at all. Jan Krupp, from a high point on his property, pointed out one of the Atlas Peak boundary lines to the west, and it seemed to go right through the middle of a field. Nothing at all to suggest why one side is Atlas Peak and, an inch away, you’re entitled only to “Napa Valley.”

So I wonder. Since Atlas Peak is an official AVA (since 1992), do we assume that there is something called “Atlas Peak terroir” simply because it’s an appellation? And do we media hounds then go out seeking that “Atlas Peak-ness” and, lo and behold, “find” something we dub “Atlas Peak terroir” ? Because, after all, if that’s the way things work, it’s pretty bass-ackwards, IMHO.

We stole, err, borrowed our AVA system from the French, who have had a lot longer to figure out appellations that are small and compact and really do make sense. I have no doubt that there’s a Côte-Rotie terroir. I believe there’s a Chambolle-Musigny terroir. Ditto for Pauillac. But then you have a day like I did, traversing up and down the mountain, looking at it from various perspectives, and you appreciate how complicated things really are up there. Different elevations, exposures, different soil patterns and, as Kan Krupp informed me, different weather patterns. When you throw in, on top of that, that some growers are less diligent than others, and some winemakers pay less attention to detail, you can see that defining “Atlas Peak terroir” is not as easy as it seems.

And yet, that’s never stopped wine writers from trying! As I will, when I write my article. For those of you who don’t have the pleasure of being employed as a wine writer, you should know (I’ll probably be killed for revealing this) that we take a sacred oath on entering the profession: “I swear to Tchelistcheff that I will discover terroir within every single appellation, and will faithfully write about it.”

I’d love to hear from some of my fellow wine writers: Do we sometimes write about appellations as if they’re God-given and must therefore possess some inherent truth of terroir? Is there more of a marketing angle to appellations than a natural one? Or do appellations actually have singular personalities that we can all agree upon?

Former Wine Spectator critic James Suckling, who’s been all over Facebook lately (Twitter, too; what’s up with that?), was tasting in Napa, and wrote that he wasn’t sure that 2007 is the “vintage of the century” for Napa Cabernet Sauvignon. That stirred up a bit of a hornet’s nest on his FB page! Even I felt compelled to write in, and while I didn’t declare ‘07 the vintage of the century (we still have, what? 90 years to go) I did say it has yielded some pretty sensational Napa Cabs and Bordeaux blends. And that was before I reviewed this week’s top ten wines. The list is heavy on ‘07 Napa Cabs. Special shoutout to Rodney Strong for their ‘07 Symmetry Meritage, from “just over the hill” in good old Alexander Valley.

1. Vine Cliff 2007 Cabernet Sauvignon, Oakville. 956 cases, 14.5%, $75

also Vine Cliff 2007 16 Rows Cabernet Sauvignon, $150 and Vine Cliff 2007 Pickett Road Vineyard Cabernet, $150

2. Paul Hobbs 2007 Stagecoach Vineyard Cabernet Sauvignon, Napa Valley (actually, Atlas Peak). 498 cases, 15.1%, $150

also Paul Hobbs 2007 Beckstoffer To Kalon Cabernet Sauvignon, $235

3. Hall 2007 Kathryn Hall Cabernet Sauvignon, Napa Valley. 2,763 cases, 14.8%, $80

also Hall 2007 Ellie’s Cabernet Sauvignon, $55

4. Paul Hobbs 2008 Ulises Valdez Vineyard Chardonnay, Russian River Valley. 423 cases, 14.5%, $70

5. Gloria Ferrer 1999 Carneros Cuvée Sparkling Blend, Carneros. 2,000 cases, 12%, $50

6. Vine Cliff 2008 Proprietress Reserve Chardonnay, Carneros. 349 cases, 14.7%, $60

7. Brogan 2007 Buena Prierra Vineyard Helio Doro Block Pinot Noir, Russian River Valley. 220 cases, 13.5%, $90

also Brogan 2006 Michaela’s Reserve Pinot Noir, $110

8. Rodney Strong 2007 Symmetry Red Meritage, Alexander Valley. 5,583 cases, 15.1%, $55

9. Iron Horse 2005 Ultra Brut, Green Valley. 500 cases, 13.5%, $50

10. Knights Bridge 2008 West Block Chardonnay, Knights Valley. 200 cases, 14.5%, $65

More on the weird 2010 vintage: As I reported here, many vintners have been pulling leaves off from the canopies, in order to hasten ripening due to the cold summer and to let the clusters dry out from the overnight dampness. Then came this week’s heat wave, with temps approaching 110 degrees. You can guess what happened. All those naked grapes, under the broiling sun: raisins! That’s why they call it “farming.” Mother Nature always has the last word.

I’m still enjoying Secrets of the Sommeliers. There’s a section where Rajat Parr is talking about “the key to memorizing and comprehending wine styles from classic regions,” which is “to establish a single benchmark wine that represents a region or style.” Then, in analyzing any other wine of that variety or style, you compare it to that classic wine.

For example, here’s Rajat’s thinking process for understanding Bonnes Mares. “Does it taste like Pinot Noir?…Then, does it taste like Pinot Noir from Burgundy? Does it taste like Pinot Noir from the village of Chambolle-Musigny? And, finally, does it taste like Pinot Noir from the Chambolle-Musigny vineyard of Bonnes Mares?” If it does, “For me,” Rajat says, “that wine is Domaine Roumier Bonnes Mares.”

There are, to be sure, not all that many “classic” regions throughout the world where such an approach is possible. Rajat limits them to a top tier including Burgundy, the Loire, Champagne, Bordeaux and the Rhone; also, German Riesling (Mosel, Rheingau, Pflaz, Rheinhessen), Austrian Riesling and Gruner V., and Italian Piedmont, Tuscany and Veneto.  He makes allowances for Spanish Rioja, sherry and albarino, port and vinho verde and, from the New World, New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc, Aussie Shiraz, Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon and Oregon Pinot Noir.

We can nitpick. I thought it would be interesting to take Rajat’s approach to “comprehending wine styles” and apply it to California. What are the classic grape varieties and wines, areas, producers and vineyards that represent “benchmarks” for the state? This is easy to do, in principle; hard, in fact, mainly because California’s history is so much shorter than France’s. Also, because in California, you can legally grow anything anywhere, as opposed (notoriously) in Old Europe.

Still, difficult as the task may be, it must be attempted, starting with Cabernet Sauvignon. I will concur with Rajat that Napa Valley remains the alpha and omega of Cabernet — so far. I consider Rajat’s Four Questions (does it taste like Cabernet? Does it taste like Cabernet from Napa Valley? Does it taste like Cabernet from the Stags Leap District of Napa Valley? Does it taste like the Hillside Select of Shafer?) and make my decison. Shafer Hillside Select: a California Cabernet Sauvignon that is a benchmark.

Pinot Noir. Rajat doesn’t consider California Pinot classic, although he does let Oregon into the club (which must make Paul Gregutt ecstatic). But that’s Rajat’s club. Mine is open to California Pinot Noir. Is there a wine that tastes like Pinot Noir? Does it taste like Pinot Noir from the Russian River Valley? Does it taste like Pinot Noir from the warmer Middle Reach of the Russian River Valley? Does it taste like the Rochioli Riverblock Pinot Noir? Yes, four times. Williams Selyem Rochioli Riverblock Pinot Noir, a classic benchmark.

I’ll stop with Cabernet Sauvignon and Pinot Noir, because there are other issues to sort out. Because you can legally plant anything you want anywhere in California, we can’t say (as they can in France) that the best Pinot Noir must taste like it comes from Burgundy (or the Cotes de Nuits, or Bonnes Mares). It’s in no one’s interests to set up beauty contests between the Middle Reach and Green Valley, or Philo, or the central Santa Lucia Highlands, or the Santa Rosa Road corridor of the Santa, err, Sta. Rita Hills, or the Arroyo Grande, or Carneros, or anyplace else. Ditto with Cabernet, which you can’t even limit to Napa Valley; and, even if you could, you would have to take into consideration the wide range of terroirs, ranging from Howell Mountain to the Rutherford Bench, from the flatlands of Georges III to the top of Atlas Peak, and so on.

Of course, Rajat could have taken the same approach to, say, Clos de Vougeot, Chambertin, Musigny, etc., as he did with Bonnes Mares, which would complicate and lengthen his process. But he would not have had to include Pinot Noir from anyplace else in France, which simplifies it; Rajat is limited to a relatively smallish growing area. It may be — I can certainly see the day coming — when we will have to begin including Cabernets (and Cabernet-dominated blends) from Paso Robles, Happy Canyon, parts of Sonoma County (of course) and possibly other areas, among the “classic benchmarks” of California; and, of course, we’re already there when it comes to Pinot Noir.

Another difficulty in California, as I earlier said, is its briefness of history. Take a wine like Evening Land’s Occidental Vineyard Pinot Noir. It is extraordinary, classic — but since they’ve only released a single vintage (2007), can it be a benchmark?

I don’t take precisely Rajat Parr’s approach to analyzing wine. But it is a useful, instructive one. What do you look for in judging a glass of wine? What benchmarks exist in your head? Whether or not you use a 100 point system, or puffs, or stars, or some other icon, or just a vague feeling in your mind, how do you calibrate wine quality?

Six thousand five hundred acres of prime Napa Valley real estate comprise the Rutherford AVA. Every year, the Rutherford Dust Society (f. 1994) holds an important tasting of the vintage, at Rubicon Estate, to which I try to go. This year’s event featured 23 Cabernets and proprietary blends from the heralded 2007 vintage.

It was good to see old, familiar faces: Peter Granoff (Ferry Plaza Wine Merchant), the great Gerald Asher, Andy Beckstoffer, whom I profiled in my New Classic Winemakers of California, Larry Stone, who’s been with Mr. Coppola for many years in senior positions, the great Joel Aiken, now on his own after many triumphant decades at Beaulieu, my friends Raul Gallyot and Jo Diaz and so many others.

What made 2007 such a great vintage? The weather. A coolish season, few heat spikes, a gorgeous harvest. “One of the most perfect summers I’ve ever seen,” said Larry Stone. “It was a lot of fun being here in 2007,” said uber-grower Beckstoffer. Peter Granoff spoke of the “shift back toward elegance, balance and finesse we’re seeing with this [2007] vintage.” I, myself, wrote that 2007 was the “Pinot Noir vintage of the century.” It was, across California, a very great year for just about everything, including Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon.

And what of Rutherford? It lies in the heart, the tenderloin of Napa Valley, just north of Oakville and south of St. Helena. It spans the benches and flatlands from the Mayacamas, across the Napa River, and then up into the rolling stretches of the Vaca Mountains, east of the Silverado Trail. You could argue that with such varied terrain and microclimates, Rutherford needs to be broken up. Clearly the Rutherford “Bench” (which includes the great Rubicon Vineyard, formerly Inglenook) is different from the Round Pond Estate and the hills of Hall, but it’s not my purpose to differentiate how, right now. Suffice it to say (paraphrasing an 18th century French abbot), “Il n’y a pas de vins communs” in Rutherford.

I’ll list my top-rated wines in a moment, but first I want to say that this tasting was a beauty contest and should be seen in that light. All of these are stunning, lovely wines. Some are a little more tannic than others, some are more accessible. Some show red cherry fruit, while others show black cherries and blackberries. Some are oakier, some more acidic, some more pronounced in tannins. But all, as Peter Granoff observed, display a breed and elegance that few other places in California are capable of. To have this many great Cabernet Sauvignons hail from one relatively small appellation is no small feat. (By the way, all wines were tasted blind.)

My highest-rated wine was the great Staglin 2007 Estate Cabernet Sauvignon.

My second highest-scoring wine was Long Meadow Ranch’s 2007 Cabernet. It was easily the best Cab from LMR I’ve ever reviewed, and that must surely be due to the vintage and winemaker Ashley Heisey’s (previously with Far Niente) increasing grip.

Other highly-scoring wines were Peju’s Reserve Cabernet, Monticello Tietjen, Round Pond Cabernet, Honig Campbell Vineyard Cabernet, Meander’s Morisoli Vineyard Cabernet, Beaulieu’s Georges de Latour, and Rubicon. (My full reviews and scores will appear in upcoming issues of Wine Enthusiast.)

Almost all of the wines are cellar-worthy, some for many, many years. This was a very impressive tasting and I was glad to be there.

I didn’t go to Thursday’s barrel tasting to taste, I went to shmooze with old friends and new ones and (let’s face it) eat! I couldn’t imagine trying to focus on individual wines, much less take notes, in the mobbed labyrinth that was Rubicon’s cave, packed with thousands of bodies oozing with the speed of congealed grease. It was reminisicent of the backup at the Bay Bridge toll plaza. Just past Mondavi’s barrel things stopped. Just…came…to…a…complete…halt. After a few minutes of this, people looked at each other with a hint of panic in their eyes, as if to say: We’re buried underground. What if we really are trapped? I said to the guy next to me, “I hear there was a three-body collision up ahead,” which made my neighbors giggle, a little hysterically. If I’d been claustrophobic, I would have lost it completely. Eventually the gridlock broke and I escaped to the blessed outside of Coppola’s beautiful, historic Rutherford campus.

Like I said, I didn’t go there to taste. When people asked where my glass was and I explained that I wasn’t tasting, they were shocked. He’s at the barrel tasting and he’s not tasting? Eventually I decided it would be easier to just carry a glass around instead of having to explain to everybody that I’m not tasting, so I went to get a glass. They were being handed out by none other than the Congressman from California’s 1st District, Rep. Mike Thompson, a powerhouse in the House Democratic caucus (who once advised me to invest in Lake County real estate, which I wish I’d done). I was with Terry Hall, the Communications Director for the Napa Vintners. When I asked the Congressman, who has a well-developed sense of humor, for a glass, he quipped to Terry he’d already given me one. “All politicians lie!” I retaliated.

Well, once I had the glass there was no way not to taste. You run into someone you know — Genevieve Janssens, Elias Fernandez, Joel Aiken, Rolando Herrera — and you kind of have to let them pour you their stuff. By the way, another reason I don’t taste at these things is California’s DUI laws. The Napa roads were crawling with cops; the last thing I need is this headline in the San Francisco Chronicle:

NOTED BAY AREA WINE CRITIC BUSTED FOR DRUNK DRIVING
Says “I was spitting!” but blood alcohol level was .12

Napa Valley, June 5, 2010 – A wine critic famous for faking his own death last April was taken to San Quentin Prison for psychiatric evaluation after an altercation following his arrest for drunk driving during the Napa Valley Wine Auction.

Police said Steve Heimoff resisted arrest and had to be subdued with a stun gun. A San Quentin spokesperson said Heimoff had been interviewed by a forensic psychiatrist and was being held involuntarily in the prison’s Mental Unit.

Anyway, I did taste maybe 15 or 20 wines, enough to confirm — as if I’d had any doubt — that these red wines are simply fantastic. Let me now rhapsodize about Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon and Bordeaux blends.

Wait! Did I say “Bordeaux blends”? Why do we call them Bordeaux blends? They have nothing to do with Bordeaux. These are Cabernet Sauvignon-based wines blended with Cabernet Franc and Petite Verdot, or whatever. In Bordeaux they never say “Cet vin est un assemblage de Napa Valley.” So I’m going to try and remember not to use “Bordeaux blend” again.

How excellent these wines were! World-class, deliriously good. Genevieve’s 2009 To Kalon Monastery Block is still finishing down my throat, 24 hours later. There was a bidder tasting it at her barrel, and he asked if the wine was worth $1,000 a case. Genevieve and I looked at each other, and I said, “That’s only $83 a bottle. Of course it’s worth it.” No, I don’t work for Mondavi, but really, if Screaming Eagle is worth $550 (or whatever ludicrous price it fetches), $83 is a bargain.