A bunch of hopes rests on our syrahs

Is syrah the missing ingredient that ultimately will allow the reputation of Washington wines to rise to the top, joining the world's most elite wine regions?

Is it the defining grape on which Washington can hang its fortunes? Mike Sauer, who owns the Red Willow vineyard at the far western edge of the Yakima Valley, believes it is. He was the first man to grow syrah commercially in Washington.

Sauer credits Columbia winemaker David Lake, his collaborator for the past 25 years, with being the first to suggest planting it. At the time, syrah was rarely grown in this country, even in California. But Lake arranged for syrah cuttings from Joseph Phelps to be brought up in the spring of 1985. They were planted on the steep south slope of the Red Willow vineyard, an area Sauer calls the Peninsula, and delivered a first crop in 1988.

"Being one winery growing it meant there was no industrywide support," Lake recalled on a visit to Red Willow some years ago. "But I had a lot of winemakers interested. It seemed like a winemakers' wine. They were watching what was going on; it was wait and see. Let's see what happens when the first bad freeze comes along."

They didn't have long to wait. As Sauer tells it, "1996 was a very cold winter; it was described as the freeze of half a century. We probably got down to about 13 to 15 below zero where the syrah was planted. And the vines came through fine." In fact, he continued, he could not remember ever having a problem growing syrah.

It has been 20 years since those first vines went into the ground, and Red Willow has continued to experiment with a dizzying variety of grapevines. But syrah is still, far and away, Sauer's hero grape. He's now got 17 acres of it scattered around Red Willow and is planning to add five more to a new vineyard nearby this spring (along with three acres of sangiovese, two of cabernet franc and a smattering of petite sirah and Dolcetto).

"I'm enthused right now with the direction we're going," he says with a grin. "My three boys are back on the farm, and that gets the old man going again."

John Duval has been making syrah (shiraz, as it's called in Australia) for even longer. As head winemaker for Penfolds from 1986 to 2002, he was responsible for an enormous lineup of shiraz, including the iconic Penfolds Grange. In 2003, he left Penfolds and founded his own label (John Duval Wines), headquartered in Southern Australia's Barossa Valley.

More important to those of us here in the Pacific Northwest, he received a phone call from Allen Shoup, CEO of Long Shadows Vintners, inviting him to partner in the production of a single wine designed to showcase Washington syrah.

On their first round visiting prospective vineyards, the two recalled in a recent interview, things didn't go so well. "The first one or two vineyards we visited were very young," says Duval. "John felt that to make a really good syrah, he needed some older vines," adds Shoup — "old enough at least so that he could get the character he wanted."

Old vines in the Barossa, generally clock in at 60 to 80 years of age. Old syrah vines in Washington are rarely older than a decade. Still, 10- or 12-year-old vines are better than the 4- or 5-year-old vines he was shown at first. So Round 2 went a bit better. "The exciting thing about syrah in Washington," Duval diplomatically notes, "is if the wines are as good as they are now, off such young vines, it augurs well for the future."

Syrah, I pointed out, is a grape that seems to do very well in many places. Furthermore, it already has been "claimed" as a signature grape in both the Rhone Valley, for its smoky, meaty, pungently bloody character, and in the Barossa, for its immensely pleasurable, saturated, jammy, fruit-driven power. So where does Washington syrah fit in?

"It seems to fit in neatly," Duval insists. "True, it doesn't have the bigness of Barossa Valley shiraz, but it has the finesse and savory spice character I see in France. So I see it fitting in between the French style and the other end of the spectrum, the big bold Australian style. And we (Long Shadows) have access to some vineyards that can give a bit of both."

Duval's Washington syrah is called Sequel. As with the other Long Shadows wines (each with its own label, focus and celebrity winemaker), Sequel will focus on just a single wine. "The model is French," Shoup explains, "one winery, one wine."

In fact, this is the path followed by the state's most acclaimed winery, Quilceda Creek, which for 25 years has focused on making a single wine exceptionally well. Though in recent years Quilceda Creek has made limited quantities of a merlot and a red blend, the flagship wine was, is and always will be its extraordinary cabernet, recently awarded the first 100-point Robert Parker score in Washington wine history.

Will Sequel be able to do the same for syrah? It is far too soon to make that call, but certainly the dedication is there. A mix of grapes from Yakima Valley, Red Mountain and Horse Heaven vineyards, it is designed to be what Duval terms "vibrant" — showing ripe blueberry and blackberry fruit, framed in 60 percent new French oak (not 100 percent, not American oak, he emphasizes), with a nice lively acidity "to keep the wine fresh and take care of cellaring."

Washington is unique, Duval believes, because syrah has been produced so much longer in other parts of the world, yet even with such young vines the early results have been impressive. And globally, he says, the profile of syrah/shiraz has significantly lifted in the past 20 years. "For the first time ever," he points out, "the annual 'Top 100' list of the country's most influential wine magazine included more syrah than any variety in the world."

At $55, the 2003 Sequel Syrah is not an everyday wine. Satiny and smooth, it is still in the process of integrating the oak flavors and softening the tannins. Resting in barrel are the next two vintages. Ground was broken in February on a new, $4.2 million Long Shadows winery just outside of Walla Walla.

"The winery is just a cement box buried in the ground," says Shoup. "What's going to impress people is that when you go into the bowels of the winery, you will see that nothing has been sacrificed in terms of cost of equipment. You will walk into the winery, and you will recognize that this is a spotless, no-compromise approach. There will be no road signs, just basically a hidden facility for making world-class wine with the dream, the goal being that if John gets up to 3,000 cases a year, we can build a small, architectural winery for him. That's my dream."

It's a great dream. And syrah is a great choice. Now it's up to those who make it to deliver the world-class goods.

Paul Gregutt is the author of "Northwest Wines." His column appears weekly in the Wine section. He can be reached by e-mail at wine@seattletimes.com.