Liquid flowers
Make way for viognier
by Thor Iverson
I talk a lot about the importance of
grapes and places,
about how certain wines
are inextricably linked to the soil from which they come. But for any given
grape, there are usually a number of places that can support that mystical
synergy known as
terroir.
For example, pinot noir makes great wine in
Burgundy,
but it also excels when grown in Oregon, New Zealand, and California.
And sauvignon blancs from the Loire Valley, New Zealand, and Chile all have
unique and worthwhile qualities.
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However, there's one grape that has, historically, resisted even the shortest
journey from its homeland. The grape is viognier (pronounced
vee-ohn-yay), and the place where it excels is called Condrieu
(pronounced coh-dree-ooh), a tiny appellation in France's northern
Rhône Valley. Most attempts to grow and vinify it elsewhere have resulted
in dismal failure . . . until now.
Well-made viognier is unlike any other wine in the world. A big, fat, and
succulent white wine, it requires particular growing conditions and careful
winemaking to keep its acid
levels up -- otherwise, the grape tends toward
slothful flabbiness. In addition to a richness similar to that of warm-climate
chardonnay (so rich that it can sometimes
seem sweet, though it rarely is), it
possesses an exotic fruit character full of honeysuckle, apricot, peach, and
orange blossom. Both qualities are overshadowed by an exuberantly floral aroma
that makes it hard to ignore an open bottle.
In Condrieu, a relatively microscopic amount of this intense wine is produced
-- only about 250 acres are currently under vine. Viognier is a difficult grape
to grow, and yields from good producers are extremely low. Together, these
factors make Condrieu awfully expensive
for the casual shopper ($30 is the
usual entry point, and luxury cuvées can run into the triple digits).
But one thing makes Condrieu worth its price: tasting viognier made anywhere
else.
California winemakers, especially, have certainly tried. Buoyed by success
with other traditional Rhône varieties -- syrah, grenache,
mourvèdre, marsanne, and others -- California's "Rhône Rangers" (a
loose collective of Rhône grape aficionados) planted a lot of little
plots of viognier all over the state. After years of frustration, however, more
than a few have given up. Most California viognier is a pleasant, quaffable
white with a fat citrus flavor,
unbalanced
acidity, and a healthy dollop of
oak.
In other words, just like most California chardonnay. Since viognier's
crankiness in the vineyard and in the winery -- especially in comparison to the
easy-to-handle chardonnay -- makes it expensive to produce, it makes little
economic sense for winemakers to continue to make a chardonnay taste-alike.
Other notable efforts toward making worthwhile viognier have been undertaken
in Australia (with results similar to California's) and in the south of France.
In the latter region, a slightly different style --
higher acid, less ripe,
more floral, less fruity -- and bigger yields have resulted in some "bargain"
viogniers, but most examples remain expensive.
If a wine shop has any Condrieu at all, it's probably made by the large
Rhône producer Guigal, and as such is an excellent introduction to
viognier. Much better, however, is Guigal's
single-vineyard La Doriane
(it had better be, at more than $60 a bottle). Other fairly common examples
come from Cuilleron (arguably the best producer), Chapoutier,
Perret, and Vernay. All are well worth the price (in the $35 to
$50 range) if you're after a special bottle of white wine. But even a Condrieu
that's only decent, such as Vidal-Fleury's, will be better than almost
all non-Rhône versions. Experimentation with any producer not on this
list is encouraged; I've left out many great wines simply because I've never
seen them in the US.
In southern France,
Beaujolais
kingpin Georges Duboeuf makes
pleasant, floral viognier that can be a fair bargain (if not exactly
thrilling). As a rule, however, there are no good viogniers for less than $10;
most are thin and watery due to enormous yields.
The news is that California, despite the failures, is finally starting to
show some promise. Renwood, Domaine de la Terre Rouge,
Arrowood, and (at times) Calera make outstanding -- if pricey --
viognier, with Terre Rouge leading the pack. Phelps and Edmund
St. John are two promising Rhône Rangers that have hung in there
despite mixed results, and Preston is improving. From Australia, the
widely available Yalumba is no better than decent Aussie chardonnay, but
this excellent producer should eventually work out the kinks. Expect to pay $15
to $35 for California viogniers, and slightly less for Australian bottles.
Wherever it's from, viognier should be consumed early. The qualities that make
it unique fade quickly with
age,
and though older viognier is by no means bad,
there's no compelling reason to choose it over other ageable whites.
Sweet
versions (look for vendange tardive Condrieu) have more
aging potential.
Because of its fatness, intense flavor, and high alcohol, the natural tendency
is to pair viognier with food that works well with big chardonnays. Yet for all
its weight, viognier is also a very subtle wine, one that's easily lost in the
presence of overaggressive flavors. Salmon and other fatty fish, especially in
a rich sauce, are a perfect match, though with a rich enough sauce any fish
will do. Pork in a creamy sauce also does well. Green vegetables simply
prepared are surprisingly compatible, as are soft cheeses from Brie to
Epoisses. The biggest viogniers even go with some milder forms of Indian and
Thai cuisine. But sharp flavors -- grilled Cajun
chicken, for instance -- can
work against the seductive interplay of flavors in the wine. Good viognier is
worth at least equal billing with food, and may demand the top of the
marquee once it's in your glass. But isn't that what great wine is all about?
Thor Iverson can be reached at wine[a]phx.com.
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