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Wednesday, January 19, 2005 - Page updated at 12:00 A.M. Cut through the confusion to find sauvignon blancs with zip Wine Adviser / Paul Gregutt
I am sensing (though perhaps it is more hope than statistical reality) a renewed interest among consumers in sauvignon blanc. This is a grape that I love. Yet it seems to be one of those wines that does everything possible to confuse people. First, there is the name. In France, the best sauv blanc-based wines are named for a place (Sancerre); in Italy it may be called fumé sauvignon or just plain sauvignon; in the U.S. it is as likely to be labeled fumé blanc as sauvignon blanc, though they are identical. Then there are the critics. Some insist on using terms such as gooseberry, crushed nettle and even pipi du chat to describe the stuff. Good grief! Who wants to drink crushed nettles soaked in ... well, you get the drift. The winemakers don't help much either. They often over-ripen, occasionally under-ripen the grape. Too ripe and the flavors turn soft and tropical; under-ripen and grassiness quickly turns to canned asparagus. Over-crop (where too many tons of grapes are grown per acre) and the grape just gets sour and watery. But troubles don't end when the grapes are picked. Sauv blanc expresses itself best when made in stainless steel, but many winemakers, imitating the seductive flavors of chardonnay, insist on barrel fermentation (sometimes in new oak) and a secondary (malolactic) fermentation, guaranteed to strip away any trace of varietal character. Amid all the confusion of what it is and could or should be, sauvignon blanc has lacked any strong regional identity. Though made around the world, it is only recently, with the rapid emergence of New Zealand wines, that any particular place has "claimed" the grape as its own special strength. "Yes, but ... " I hear you say. "How about Sancerre?" OK, raise your glass and go to the front of the class if you know that Sancerre is, in fact, sauvignon blanc (unless it's Sancerre rouge, of course; but that's another topic). You'll get no argument from me if you think that Sancerre is the world's best sauvignon blanc. But like other great French wines, it hangs its I.D. on the name of the place, not the grape. Here in Washington, some very good sauvignon blancs are made. Among my consistent favorites are those from Barnard Griffin, DiStefano, Lone Canary, JM Cellars, Novelty Hill and Waterbrook. Still, sauv blanc seems destined to make its mark elsewhere: France and New Zealand to be sure, but also the northeast corner of Italy, the Casablanca valley in Chile, and possibly South Africa. What are the signature flavors of sauvignon blanc? Not to pick on California, but it is the epicenter of chardonnay-wannabes: the un-sauvignon blancs. That said, if you are especially fond of the flavors of buttered popcorn, toasty new oak, and soft, ripe, slightly peachy fruit with a hint of sugary sweetness, California has the sauvignon blancs for you. They can be quite delicious, and several are recommended here.
But for me, the whole point of sauvignon blanc is the snap, the zip, the assertive flavors of cut grass, lime, citrus peel and a dozen herbs and green fruits. Sauvignon blancs should penetrate the palate and liven up the tongue. That's why they are so perfectly matched to food — especially goat cheeses, shellfish and other light seafood and poultry. Note: These matches work only if the wine has that snap. If you don't like the snap, then stay away from any wines described as herbaceous, grassy, tart or penetrating. On average, sauv blancs are less expensive than chardonnays, and more naturally flavorful. Among the budget (under $10) bottles it's more difficult to find focused intensity, but you can find a few standouts — crisp, quaffable and highly food-friendly wines amongst a sea of watery, insipid plonk. The better sauv blancs are priced in the teens and 20s. But even there I found a smattering of bottles, some from well-known producers, that had been so whacked with SO2 that they were barely drinkable. SO2 is added at bottling as a preservative, and young, white wines on occasion may have a whiff of that burnt match smell. But it should never dominate the nose and mouthfeel. If you smell sulfur or taste a bitter, acrid flavor in the back of the throat, it's a sure sign of too much SO2. You can try vigorous swirling, even decanting, but that won't fix a wine that has been seriously overloaded. In my opinion, that is reason enough to exchange the bottle for something more drinkable. New Zealand has become the "in" place to make sauvignon blanc in recent years, and more and more brands are being imported into this market. That's the good news. On the down side, regrettably, quality does not seem to be as consistent as it used to be. I found far too many New Zealand sauv blancs showing asparagus and canned bean flavors, poorly masked with residual sugar. That is not what makes New Zealand sauvignon blancs great. These wines should taste of lime, lime, lime! They should have snap and penetrating clarity — a sharp, pungent mouthfeel that refreshes and cuts through the lengthy finish. Green berries and fruits, not bean juice. And no sugar. One more interesting side note: In a lineup of close to 20 New Zealand sauvignon blancs, all but three sported screwcaps. They looked good, opened easily and re-sealed with a quick turn. 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.
Copyright © 2005 The Seattle Times Company
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