Investigating a grape variety’s ability to display its unique regional character is, in one way, an exercise in pure faith. We make the assumption that such a character really does exist. After all, we muse, the concept of terroir has been around for a long time, a virtual icon in French vinoculture with translated versions from other languages (Spanish, Italian, German), and the formal recognition of the U.S. government, the American Viticultural Appellation.

So leaping head first into the question of an appellation signature, which we assume to be present in a wine as famous as Carneros Pinot Noir, shouldn’t be a chore. We simply sit down with the experts -- those who make the wines -- and we listen and take careful notes on their observations on the characteristics of their current wines and how they reflect the same characteristics from past vintages. And we try the wines with them, and we try to spot the threads that nature weaves into a specific, identifiable set of traits. And that defines the terroir and thus the signature of the appellation.

Good luck.

When we did this recently, with a room filled with five formal judges and numerous equally skilled onlookers, the conclusions reached were hazy at best, and confusing at worst. For starters, what we once witnessed as a distinctive regional component, a faint hint of green tea or beet tops (well, faintly green anyhow), was all but gone.

Where had it gone? we asked. And what had replaced it? we wondered.

The bottom line, which was voiced most assertively by Mike Richmond of Bouchaine Vineyards (which hosted this first Carneros event for AppellationAmerica), was that things are in a state of flux for this unique and large region whose expanse traverses over the Napa-Sonoma county line, and which has slightly cooler and slightly warmer sub-regions, adding to the difficulty of typing it.

The element we once found so prevalent in Carneros Pinot Noir, that fascinating “forest floor after a rain” note of dried herbs, brush, and an almost minty note at times, was a function not only of the region, said Richmond, but also of earlier trellising systems, clones, and wine making techniques.

And he added, stating the obvious, “a lot has changed in the last 15 years.”

Indeed, things have changed, and one of the most major of them occurred nearly 20 years ago. The phylloxera infestation that ravaged vines in California’s North Coast in the mid- to late 1980s forced replanting of vineyards just as some new, fast-ripening, cold-climate-developed Pinot clones were coming out of quarantine. The result was that most of the vineyards that were replanted here had some if not a lot of the new so-called Dijon clones, which most wine makers saw as a solution to their color problem.

A bit of background: Almost all California Pinot Noir, left to its own devices 20 years ago, would make a lovely if pale-colored wine. Some wine makers back then took to adding a touch of a black grape variety to darken the wine. Petite Sirah or Alicante Bouschet were the wine makers’ best friends in this regard. Though even smaller amounts of these could harm the delicate aroma of the Pinot.

The Dijon clones solved this problem. They had darker colors than the old “Martini clone” and “darker” flavors as well. This was a characteristic that was most loved by some of the nation’s number-scoring wine critics, who seem to dote on wines that are “rich” and “powerful” and “concentrated.” As if those characteristics are devoutly to be wished regardless of which varietal is being evaluated.

The Dijon clones came along just as Pinot Noir was being roundly criticized for lacking depth. Never mind that the basic essence of great Pinot Noir is its silkiness and its feminine charms. The reviewers liked all red wines big, and the Dijon clones delivered that.

So with the replanting of the phylloxerated vines came a new harvest dynamic. No longer did the wine maker fear making a pale-colored wine. No longer was there the widespread concern that late harvesting would produce an over-ripe character that was atypical of the variety, because the new clones provided for a “narrower” and denser, more compact wine.

The Carneros wines of the past were, in fact, a slightly divergent group because of one other factor that locals knew but declined to speak about openly: the truly diverse conditions that various sub-regions of the area offered. On one property alone, farmed by Angelo Sangiacomo, some of the Pinot Noir came out more herbal than on other portions of the same Sonoma County ranch.

Then there is the Napa side, some areas of which were decidedly warmer than others to the south. For just one extreme example, look at the Congress Valley sub-region of Carneros, which cuts diagonally northeastward, split by the Old Sonoma Road, where Tony and JoAnn Truchard long ago planted Cabernet Sauvignon, and from which vineyard Francis Mahoney once made (1977) an absolutely fabulous and classic Napa Valley Cabernet. Today this same ranch easily ripens warm-loving Syrah as well.

Sub-regional and clonal differences clearly made for a shifting style dynamic for Pinot Noir in the Carneros. However, one additional factor (those dad-blamed scores!) put further demands on wine makers: they had to make wines that were immediately impressive and completely lacking any of the methoxypyrizine (herbal notes) that had always been a part of Carneros Pinot Noir’s makeup!

One way to do that was by pushing harvest dates later and later, pushing the grapevine to hold onto its grapes beyond the point where any of the pyrazine-y notes remained. The grapes then verged on over-ripeness, with desiccation playing the major role in the “plum” and near-raisin-y components taking over to blot out the green.

At this point, it was clear, the regional character of the wine was being compromised.

Scoring “systems” for wine, by their very nature, have no latitude in them and cannot accept as a positive element the notion of regional character. But such “systems” can easily use “regional characteristics” in defense of the homogeneity that is so essential for some reviewers. This regional character is seen as antithetical to “great” wine, allowing a reviewer to lower his or her score.

Wine makers in Carneros began to notice a pattern: when they had classic Carneros characteristics in an otherwise terrific wine, often it would not get as high a score as another wine (or wines) that, when they were sampled by the wine makers, could be seen as having none of the faint traces of pyrazine -- that very element that defines Pinot Noir in some regions and which makes it so classic when the wines are aged for just a few years.

Over time, wine makers in Carneros began to sense that they had to work diligently to get higher scores through elimination of the distinctive terroir components that had marked their wines of the past. Since the Dijon clones (notably those identified as 667 and 777) provided this mechanism, they were naturally one element of the new “formula.” But therein came a problem.

As cold-hardy clones, these selections had been developed for a truly cold climate since they produce sugars in some of the coolest areas of Burgundy. And thus they seem appropriate for areas of the western Russian River Valley, such as at Freestone with its Pacific afternoon winds, and up the frigid reaches of the Sonoma coastline near the Mendocino County border.

But in Carneros, which has a more moderate climate in summer, especially in the later afternoons, these clones are tricky little buggers. Wherever they are planted, the window during which they ought to be harvested is very narrow. Even a 24-hour delay in getting them off the vine could result in a rise in sugar beyond what is optimum for making a wine that will reveal its varietal character. Faintly overripe characters develop in the early aroma of the wine, robbing it of those traces of herbal notes (dried savory, thyme, bits of tarragon or rosemary) along with the dried cherry that often defines its fruit.

This loss of some of the varietal distinction that once was an elemental part of the grape in Carneros began about the same time that phylloxera was becoming a headache. Viticulturists were using new techniques that permitted them to “tone down” the element they often called “the veggies” by removing weak shoots and dropping a percentage of the crop soon before harvest to allow the remaining grapes to gain more concentration.

But in doing so, some vineyards were pushed past the point where they could develop and hold onto their varietal and regional identity.

It was this particular problem that posed the dilemma for so many of the wine makers on our Appellation Discovery Tasting Panel for Pinot Noir. Bouchaine’s Mike Richmond finally admitted that there were two distinctively different Carneros styles: the old and the new. The older, marked by some of the herbal/earthy notes, reflected back to a time when we all understood that a trace of the leafy character was perfectly fine, since most of the wines would be aged for at least two to four years. Under such a regimen, the “green” elements would simply add complexity to the wines as they took on a sort of sandalwood, underbrush note along with the dried cherry and blackberry jam. A few of the older styles of wines are still being made, and vintage to vintage we may see a greater or lesser number of them.

The newer style of wine does not feature much of the leafy-ness in aroma, and in most wines it is only revealed after a good deal of aeration. More likely, however, is that the newer style of wine will feature more black fruit, with higher alcohols offering a bit more of the jam that we associate with later harvesting, notably of the 667 and 777 clones.

And thus these newer wines are quite similar to one another, drawing their greatest features from a bit of desiccation and from the riper profile that seems to be so appealing to some of the large wine magazines and certain impactful wine writers. The wines are clearly denser, but they are more homogenous and thus less distinctive, house to house.

So the wines are more similar than divergent, but most of the tasters in the room (all Carneros wine makers as well as one public relations consultant) agreed that though none of the wines had a particularly “Burgundian” lilt to it, the general level of quality was rather high. In fact, only a tiny percentage of the Pinot Noirs we have seen in the last decade from Carneros could be identified as Burgundian in character.

Steve Test, wine maker at Merryvale, then asked, somewhat rhetorically: “so what if the wines aren’t as regionally linked as they once were? Even if they are a bit similar to one another in terms of weight, aroma, and taste, what’s wrong with that?”

I supposed the answer lies in what the newly renamed Carneros Wine Alliance desires to achieve with a newly developed and quite sophisticated regional marketing campaign. If each house is perceived as making a Pinot Noir that is somewhat homogenous and similar to its neighbor’s house, and the regional identity of the district takes a back seat in how the consumer views the wines, why do we make distinctions from area to area? Indeed, why have appellations at all?

What we seek in these Appellation Discovery tastings is true terroir-driven regional character. And thus is homogeneity the definitive antagonist to that quest. Indeed, without our being able to put our finger on truly distinctive aromas and tastes, the consumer is ill-served to pay an additional few dollars just because the label says the wine is from Carneros.

One thing is certain, however. Our tasting did confirm that the basic aroma of Carneros Pinot Noir differs from the strawberry, clove, and cranberry aroma we have often found in Russian River Valley (cool regions of it anyway), and we anticipate that those components will become more evident when we taste in that region.

Moreover, little of the green pepper-y notes of most of Monterey County or the leafy-ness of Santa Barbara were evident in the Carneros wines. So it appears we can hone in on the regional distinctiveness of Carneros’ Pinot Noirs by noting the absence of some other regions’ general proclivities.

And yet here is the paradox: as other regions adopt, more and more, the leaf-pulling and weak shoot-removal techniques we know tames distinctive varietal components, and as we move inexorably toward greater and greater percentages of the French clones that ripen so much faster, the other regions begin to make wines that also lack some of their regional characteristics.

Most on our panel agreed that a distinctive local flavor is appropriate for Pinot Noir – as long as the stronger pyrazine-y elements are kept to a bare minimum. But I wonder what the aging process will be for Pinot Noirs without any of the pyrazine we have come to expect in the wine when it is young.

For a good deal of the fascination in great Pinot Noir is what it assumes after a decade. Tasting through mid-1990s Pinot Noirs from various regions in California over the last year, we have noted that many still had a trace of the green and herbal notes that mark the wines, and that the complexity and depth of the wines are attributable to that green element (what the New Zealanders, notably from Central Otago call the fresh wild thyme) that gives the wine an added note, and does not detract from the fresh cherry-like notes that are inherent in Pinots from great growing regions, as is Carneros.

True, if the pyrazine is too strong a note when the wine is young, it could overpower the wine as it ages, but from the better producers, the one element that seemed constant was that any Pinot Noir hovering around 13.5% alcohol from that era still showed some of the fresh fruit of youth, along with that complexity that only regional character delivers.

So although our quest to find distinctive regional character in Carneros Pinot Noir from the 2003 wines was not a rousing success, we did begin a most vital process, which will continue year to year and which will help us define more closely those elements that are markers of an appellation signature that define the quality of this important region.

~ Dan Berger, Regional Editor


To comment on Dan Berger’s writings and thoughts, contact him at d.berger@appellationamerica.com