Wood and Wine
Posted on | September 9, 2010 | Written by Franco Vigorito | No Comments
How wine came to be aged in wood was, as many human inventions are, a happy accident. Rather than being containers for fermenting wine, wooden barrels first served as vessels to transport wine. People came to realize that by the time the wine arrived at its destination something had changed—the wine had gained a softer taste and different aromatics. They liked the wine better, and thus they started intentionally aging wine in wood, rather than the clay pots used before.
Many chemical processes occur when a wine ages in barrel, many of which are not completely understood, though most of the changes happen due to the interaction of wood and fermenting wine. Oak—whether French, American or Slavonian—is the predominant kind of wood used in winemaking, because it’s strong, relatively easy to cut and watertight. Oak also has the ability to transfer flavor and influence the structure of the wine. Although the different regions’ oaks may seem the same, there are huge differences in these woods. Not only do different woods require different barrel construction, but they also affect the resulting wine differently. 
To make the barrels, the wood has to be split or sawn into staves. Out of all the oaks, French oak is the hardest to work with. The oak must be split in order to be watertight, while American Oak can simply be sawed into staves—French oak’s increased labor adds to the premium paid on it. After being split or sawn, the oak is seasoned, or dried out, for about two to three years; this decreases many of the wood’s bitter and acidic components. Drying can be done in ovens too, but this is a cheap way to circumvent the long delay, and the resulting wood is lower in quality. Depending on the specifications of the winery, the barrels can also be toasted by the cooper. The staves must be bent into shape using heat, which often chars the inside of the barrel imparting a more pronounced flavor. There are varying degrees of toasting, but it is always important that balance is met between the wood and wine. 
There are distinct differences in the flavor and aromatic profiles of each type of oak. American oak imparts more oaky flavors like butterscotch, vanilla, caramel and coconut because of the higher porosity of the wood. French oak has a more elegant expression on its wines and lends a very balanced creaminess, vanilla and spice to the profile. Slavonian oak is very tight and tends to only impart some spice.
In addition to the type of oak used in a barrel, the size of the barrel also plays a huge factor in a wine’s elevage. Small barrels (225 liters) have much higher surface-area-to-volume ratio; thus, the effects of the oak are more pronounced. In large casks containing up 1000 liters, the effect is much less pronounced due to the lower surface-area-to-volume ratio. Either method can produce world-class wines; it’s really up to the producer to make the decision. As long as the wine has balance, either method works.
Here you can see larger Slavonian Oak in the background and smaller French barriques in the foreground.
Perhaps even more than adding oak’s flavor, the most important reason for using barrels is micro-oxygenation. Although watertight, barrels are not air tight. Small amounts of oxygen permeate the barrels, which in turn oxidize the wine. This minute oxidation is beneficial because the tannins essentially bind to the oxygen, causing precipitation of some tannins and yielding a more rounded wine at inception. Tannins contained in the wood itself also leach into the wine, adding structure and flavor.
While this explanation is by no means exhaustive, I hope you learned a bit about the tight relationship between wood and wine. You don’t need the former to make the latter—just look at Josko Gravner and his amphora—but it helps. And now you know a little bit about why.
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The First Taste
Posted on | September 1, 2010 | Written by Franco Vigorito | 1 Comment
Last year when I lived in Florence, I had the opportunity to taste wine grapes that had just been picked off the vines. This had been a craving of mine for a very long time; I had tasted hundreds of wines but never an actual wine grape. It was one of those few experiences that lives up to its much-hyped hopes.
I was taking a wine class from Diletta Frescobaldi, one of the current owners of the Frescobaldi wine enterprise, who had open access to grapes from the estate’s vineyards. She presented us all with two grape bunches fresh from the Frescobaldi Estate—one of them was Cabernet Sauvignon and the other Petit Verdot. Without knowing which was which, I found that it was pretty easy to determine their identities just from sight.
Cabernet Sauvignon grapes usually produce a dense, dark and tannic wine, attributes that mainly come from the skins. The berries of this cluster were very small, thick skinned, and tightly packed, and they tasted sweet but with medium acidity. One flavor stood out in the Cabernet grapes, and that was a strong green pepper taste. Italian Cabernets tend to develop these green pepper nuances, especially wines from the north. In contrast to the Cabernet, the Petit Verdot berries were much larger, thinner skinned and not densely packed. On the palate they were much more acidic and less flavorful. Both were downright delicious, and I wish I could find these grapes regularly in the store.
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Praising the Unappreciated Wines
Posted on | August 31, 2010 | Written by Kerry-Jo Rizzo | No Comments
The "obscure" Riesling
After reading Jane’s recent blog post about the wine bar Terroir and its new location in trendy Tribeca, I was eager to give it a try. Not only am I obsessed with Terroir in its original East Village location, but when I heard there was another, even bigger Terroir only minutes down the 4-5-6, I was ecstatic. Terroir’s “Summer of Riesling,” wherein it’s offering only Riesling for its by-the-glass whites, exemplifies how committed the bar’s owner is to being an advocate for this misinterpreted variety. Riesling is my most favorite white wine of all, but try telling someone who drinks oaky Chardonnay from Napa that they have to order a glass of that “ultra-sweet, boring” white from Germany, and you will see a striking response.
The Rieslings my friends and I tried at Terroir were diverse, unusual and enthralling. Enjoying glasses of the oft maligned Riesling got me thinking about some of the lonely white, Italian grape varieties that get overlooked in the face of their showier cousins. Take Pigato, for example. Grown on terraced vineyards and boasting notes of flowers and a salty minerality, Pigato—one of my favorite obscure varietals—is indigenous to Liguria and is a relative of the more popular Vermentino variety. Hardly anyone has heard of it, and it’s yummy.
Malvasia, also known as Malvoisie and Malmsey in France and Britain, originates from ancient Greece and produces wines high in alcohol with some residual sugar. Most Malvasia is meant to be drunk within one to five years, although the Prince Alberico Boncompagni Ludovisi, of Fiorano fame, managed to create some superb and shockingly well-aging Malvasia wines. There’s also the late ripening, very vigorous Garganega, which grows in the Soave Classico region and is known for its light aromatics of lemon, almond, spice and appears mostly in blends. Paolo Bea’s Santa Chiara is a great place to try a complex blend, including 20 percent of the Garganega grape.
It’s easy to step into the known. It’s easy to drink that oaky Chardonnay, and there are times that call for the known quantity. However, drinking Terroir’s Rieslings, reflecting on the unsung Italian varietals, delighting in the less appreciated, I also see the beauty in the obscure. They’re new, they’re different and they’re just, well, so cool.
Tags: chardonnay > Liguria > Malvasia > Pigato > Riesling > terroir
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September 1st, 2010 @ 3:02 pm
I know!! Store grapes are so bland and way too sweet!