The Kessler Cassoulet Dinner, 2012, Part 1

Cassoulet 2012, Part 1: The Readiness Is All

It wasn’t hard for us to get on the plane. Cold and wet in Portland; dry and sunny in SoNapanoma. Nope, not difficult at all. Especially when the short trip was to culminate in BettyLu’s Cassoulet Dinner. Double incentives, as it were.

Yep, another year had passed and the first signal event of the new year was at hand. This is one dinner we insist on attending---as long as they keep inviting us; we’ll be there!

Roxi was assisting BL this year as scullery maid and sous chef, hoping to give BL just a bit of relief. That gave me a ringside seat, along with my host Lou, the other supervisor, into the mass of details that goes into preparing a home dinner for ten.

Of course, BL had been meticulously planning and preparing for this meal for several months, and Roxi and I were seeing only the last couple of days, but busy days they were. The two of them toiled in the kitchen endlessly, making sure every single element of the meal was to BettyLu’s exacting standards. Best of all, they seemed to be having fun doing it.

Lou and I were exhausted.

But it was finally coming on to the time when the guests would start arriving. All was in readiness (and as Shakespeare says, the readiness is all.)

To ease us into the evening, Lou had already opened a Fiano di Avellino, Colli di Lapio Romano Clelia, 2009. Unfortunately it didn’t get the attention it deserved (there was a football game on, and we were doubly counting down minutes), but it was bright and lovely, crisp and lemony-fruity with a little almond flower and a corresponding light lift of minerality to it. Very pleasant.

As our dinner companions, all familiar from past years, chatted and hugged, we settled in to a night of camaraderie, great food, and great wine. Acerbic Alan Bree was there, with the lovely Katrina. The good doctor, Mark Anisman, showed up with a smiling Mariko (who we missed last year because of her charity work for the Japanese tsunami). The legendary Jason Brandt Lewis and his legal adviser, renowned Berkeley Barrister Lynn Gorelick, arrived. Since it was Jason, he arrived with a bottle in hand (tequila, not wine) and a detailed story on his lips. With Roxi and me, and our hosts, that made ten.

When the guests arrived, Lou had the wines prepped and in full array. It was an intriguing line up of whites for our delectation. A returning champion, fondly remembered, the do Ferreira Albariño Cepas Vellas, Rias Baixas, 2006 was shiveringly good, richer and more taut than a ‘regular’ Albariño ever could be, what with its massive, almost brobdingnagian old vines yielding little of volume but much of flavor. The best and brightest and deepest Albariño I’ve ever had, for sure.

Another repeat performance, and again applauded for its startling ability to alter as it ages, constantly showing a changing face of Sauvignon Blanc, from crisp intensity to the softness of sage, from gunflint (no, seriously) to plump melons, once again a standout for its profound ability to age, the always appreciated Sancerre Chavignol Clos la Neore, 2008, by Edmond Vatan stood proudly on the bar.

Almost in counterpoint a new Young Turk shows up. It’s the Cowan Cellars Isa Sauvignon Blanc, Lake County, 2010. For an upstart from some young whippersnapper named Jim Cowan, it actually holds its own in company with the Neore. It’s a skin-fermented Sauvignon, what you might call Baby Orange wine as it is young for such and just now peeking out. It would be interesting to track the development of this infant to see what happens here. There is much in the way of promise.

A bit softer, but not by much, and certainly rounder and fatter, sort of like a stolid German hausfrau, a little heavy on pounds but packed with power, the Weingut Köfererhof Kerner, 2009, is something of a revelation that could only come, I believe, from that curious combination of Alpine Deutsch-Italien particular to the Trentino-Alto Adige. Take a grape that hasn’t shown much in another place and make it something special and interesting in this place; that seems to be the beau ideal for the Alto-Adige, doesn’t it? This Kerner has depth I’ve never been able to attribute to the variety before.

Interlude: Keep in mind that while we were drinking these lovely beverages, there was fascinating conversation---I will remind you that JBL, Bree and Anisman were in residence and in fine form, and Lou got his timely comment in every now and then, and none of the ladies was in the least bit shy to tell any of us we were full of it---and our hostess was plying us with some tasty tidbits while giving the impression that, la di da, she had just whipped them up on the spur of the moment, it was nothing. I knew better, of course, as I had watched BL and Roxi prepare them.

Passing in constant succession were spicy herb crackers (like me, rolled by Roxi), habit forming little squares that set off the wine perfectly; deep-fried arancini balls, crispy outside and creamy-oozy in; chutney and currant spread on pita bread (yum); prosciutto and melted teleme cheese on sesame rounds, and chile and lime crab on water crackers with chive dressing.

The aperitif WOTN had to be the astonishing and audacious Lopez de Heredia Viña Tondonia Reserva “White”, Rioja, 1992. If the Cowan Isa was Baby Orange, this is the Big Orange, what all other orange wines should aspire to. More a brassy brownish yellow than orange, of course. And most lovers of squeaky-clean-wine-to-look-at wine would be offput by the mere sight of it. “This is white wine? This isn’t white wine. Isn’t it spoiled? Probably way over the hill.”

This wine hasn’t even seen a hill to get over yet. It’s a baby at, what, 19. Okay, it’s an adolescent; I’ll give you that. Amazing and confounding in its profound complexity, the Tondonia is young and brash and middle-aged and mature, both at the same time. There’s obvious oxidation, yes, but it melds into the succulence and chewy grip of the wine in such a way as to be an adjunct to the overall quality and complexity rather than a detractor. It’s oxidative development as a way to deepen the flavors and add new layers of flavors at the same time.

And the key element is there is still plenty of fruit here. And heightened minerality. And sufficient acidity to keep everything bright. Both mellow and vibrant, if you can imagine that. Perhaps a stretch of analogy, but I liken the Tondonia to old copper: there’s a fascinating patina of strangely metallic green that makes the copper more intriguing, but there’s still the gleam and glisten of young and vibrant copper below that. See how a wine can compel us to wax in poor fumbling poesy to explain it?

How do I describe the taste? I don’t. You’ll have to go out and purchase a bottle yourself; this is an experiential wine. Get over your age preconceptions, because this wine will knock them all askew anyway. True, you’ll either like it or hate it; but you will definitely learn something from it. And that’s quite a statement for a bottle of wine, innit.

But enough of the preliminaries, delightful as they were. You’re eager for the Dinner. And you’ll get that narrative when I post, Cassoulet 2012, Part 2: The Main Event.

[NOTE: For those who would like pretty pictures with the purpled prose, you'll have to go to my blogsite, listed in my tagline.]

that young whippersnapper is older than either you or me!

that young whippersnapper is older than either you or me!

I think he was being all ironical-like.

Mark "Old Geezer" Lipton

that young whippersnapper is older than either you or me!

Hm. Guess it's the southern sun and all that wine he drinks that keeps him looking well preserved.

And to keep it in perspective, since you're my elder, I must be the young sprout of the bunch.

[Jenise]

Wonderful, like Christmas, these annual reports. Can't wait for the next installment.

But a comment: I really love the Isa. I had my first taste of it last month when I took a bottle to the Vancouver lunch last month and was disappointed that it didn't go over well. That group is usually more open-minded and able to embrace any obviously well-made wine rather than being compared to some standard that this wine has no interest in adhering to whatsoever, and found lacking, but with one exception (thank you, Dave Cooper) it seemed to fall flat on the group. Fine: I'll keep the rest of it to myself.

I think this is the first time I've read a cassoulet report that doesn't mention Hirtzberger's Singerriedel Riesling.

I think this is the first time I've read a cassoulet report that doesn't mention Hirtzberger's Singerriedel Riesling.

Hah! I wasn't that specific, Salil, but I do remember at the time thinking "This is the first time we haven't had An Austrian, either Gruner or Riesling!" I suppose you could get by that with thinking the Kofererhof Kerner was sorta-kinda-primarily Germanic.

Wonderful, like Christmas, these annual reports. Can't wait for the next installment.

But a comment: I really love the Isa. I had my first taste of it last month when I took a bottle to the Vancouver lunch last month and was disappointed that it didn't go over well. That group is usually more open-minded and able to embrace any obviously well-made wine rather than being compared to some standard that this wine has no interest in adhering to whatsoever, and found lacking, but with one exception (thank you, Dave Cooper) it seemed to fall flat on the group. Fine: I'll keep the rest of it to myself.

I think the more narrow traditionalists would have a difficult time initially with wines like the Isa, Jenise. Simply because it's not within their expectations of what a "Sauvignon Blanc" is supposed to be.

I recall the onslaught of NZ Sauvingon Blancs when they first hit the scene, and in some areas they were such a surprise that they weren't well received---too audacious, too green/herbal.

I also recall a time when I was asked by some of my bosses (who weren't exactly what you would call wine conoisers even though they were running a large wine company) to stage a global sampling of SBs. I threw in a Cotat Chavignol and, boy hidey, the Prez just about went into convulsions when he smelled it---you see, he was used to squeaky clean, sanitized, warm climate California SB as his paradigm, and he couldn't handle the Cotat...I remember he said it smelled like old gymsocks in the locker room. He was positively indignant about it.

We, annoying wineophiles that we are, have a much broader range of expectations, and a much more tolerant acceptance of what might initially be outside our norms, couple with a quick adaptability to liking things that taste good even if we haven't experienced them before.

I know when I was ecstatic over the Tondonia, many wine drinkers would silently think I was loopy (and maybe even some people in the room were being quietly tolerant of the idiot who liked that oxidized wine.

Jim's style of skin maceration and fermentation gives a SB with a different style, flair and substance---and I think it gives it greater ageability. But it won't necessarily be a "textbook" style for most (of course, most textbooks are just repetitive yadayadyada anyway, right? That's a joke, Frank! ) Jim likes to color outside the lines. Some of us like that. And who's to say his style might not eventually be the preferred style?

I think the more narrow traditionalists would have a difficult time initially with wines like the Isa, Jenise. Simply because it's not within their expectations of what a "Sauvignon Blanc" is supposed to be.

I recall the onslaught of NZ Sauvingon Blancs when they first hit the scene, and in some areas they were such a surprise that they weren't well received---too audacious, too green/herbal.

Off the topic, I realize, but the other night we were having drinks with the landlord here in Christchurch and the topic of Kiwi SB popularity came up (landlord claims that at local parties, the SB is the last wine to go nowadays ). We were tossing out various theories for why Kiwi SB became such a hit in the US back around the turn of the millenium: was it the ABC movement? (cause and effect?), was it the low pricing and attractive fruit, or was it the success of Cloudy Bay in the UK that catalyzed the influx of these wines to the US? Your input on this topic (or anyone else's for that matter) greatly appreciated.

Back to your thesis: it's really a matter of human psychology. We're trained to appreciate what we know and individuals struggle to various extents to grok experiences that fall outside of the accepted paradigm. I recall vividly the carping of many audiophiles when transistor amplifiers were introduced because they lacked the "warm" sound of tube amps, despite all measurable indicators of distortion being substantially lower in the solid state amps. Paradigms do shift, though, and tastes do change, albeit slowly. Good thing, or wine would still be adulterated with pine tar a la retsina.

Mark Lipton

Your input on this topic (or anyone else's for that matter) greatly appreciated.

Since I've never been accused of being short of opinions I'll throw in.

Believe in large part that it was because the NZ SB, after a short period of adjustment (Whazzat? Whoo!) fit into the American concept quite easily, as it was basically a Nigel Tufnel wine, a SB on steroids, emphasizing an extra blast of particular aromas/flavors (more aromas, I think) that weren't that far beyond what the average casual new world chard drinker or sauv blanc drinker were aware of already.

And Americans (once they get used to the idea) like things bigger and better and bolder. Let's face it, the great mass of SB being consumed was CA/West Coast and it was wishy washy, templated, so-so, sweet and fruity SB. No wonder it had been in the doldrums. Pretty much the only variation was the standard fall back of throwing tons of oak at it (and, well, you know, if that was what you like there was plenty of chardonnay available).

Oh, and they successfully tapped in to another shade of the "green" spectrum that is Sauvigon Blanc, and which a lot of casual drinkers simply weren't aware of because it had not been widespread in the past. They'd never had the razor clean freshness of, say, Schiopettino from Friuli or Magdalena from the Alto Adige. And all of as sudden this audacious stuff was there!

So NZ SB was like, hey, all of a sudden you move from LIfeSavers to TicTacs and get a blast of flavor intensity...and not coincidentally a sharper, tangier, zestier mouthful rather than insipidity incarnate.

Add in that Antipodeal wines were all the rage then because of Australia and their goddam cute kangaroos and koala bears, and the fact that Americans thought NZ was actually a suburb just off the eastern Aussie coast, and hey, you've got a formula for success that's waiting for a good marketing program.

[Jenise]

We, annoying wineophiles that we are, have a much broader range of expectations, and a much more tolerant acceptance of what might initially be outside our norms, couple with a quick adaptability to liking things that taste good even if we haven't experienced them before.

I know when I was ecstatic over the Tondonia, many wine drinkers would silently think I was loopy (and maybe even some people in the room were being quietly tolerant of the idiot who liked that oxidized wine.

I know! I know! That's why this wine's failure to impress was mystifying, the group consisted of only us annoying wineophiles! At the very least, it should have started a rousing debate about classicism vs. outlierism, if you will. Especially when the wine that followed mine was the very wine you cite as another example, though not the same vintage, an LdH blanc, a wine this group loves and appreciates even if this particular bottle lacked the typical broad spectrum of assets for that wine. (I even commented on the American oak without once thinking of LdH.)

Even the one guy who liked it admitted to same reluctantly: 2010 Cowan Cellars Sauvignon Blanc Isa - USA, California, North Coast, Lake County; Yellow, not ompletely clear. Exotic stone fruit nose. Some sweetness or maybe it's richness. Some nice pineapple and peach flavours and a dry long finish. I wish I could say something bad about this wine but in the end I fall short. (91 pts.) Others scored it 86ish or struggled to find nice things to say.

[Jenise]

sharper, tangier, zestier mouthful rather than insipidity incarnate

I remember that it was precisely this that drew me in. Up til then, the typical American SB was either A or B, described as having either "melon" or "vegetal" qualities, lemon and green bean were often the runners up. If you were lucky, you had one that the terms 'herbacious' or 'cat pee', if you were of a certain mind, earned as well. The broader citrus basket--lime, lemon, tangerine, sometimes grapefruit, it was all in there, along with sometimes some washed rind cheese--that the Kiwi SB's offered was something stunningly different while still being recognizable as Sauvignon Blanc.

We, annoying wineophiles that we are, have a much broader range of expectations, and a much more tolerant acceptance of what might initially be outside our norms, couple with a quick adaptability to liking things that taste good even if we haven't experienced them before.

I know when I was ecstatic over the Tondonia, many wine drinkers would silently think I was loopy (and maybe even some people in the room were being quietly tolerant of the idiot who liked that oxidized wine.

I know! I know! That's why this wine's failure to impress was mystifying, the group consisted of only us annoying wineophiles! At the very least, it should have started a rousing debate about classicism vs. outlierism, if you will. Especially when the wine that followed mine was the very wine you cite as another example, though not the same vintage, an LdH blanc, a wine this group loves and appreciates even if this particular bottle lacked the typical broad spectrum of assets for that wine. (I even commented on the American oak without once thinking of LdH.)

Even the one guy who liked it admitted to same reluctantly: 2010 Cowan Cellars Sauvignon Blanc Isa - USA, California, North Coast, Lake County; Yellow, not ompletely clear. Exotic stone fruit nose. Some sweetness or maybe it's richness. Some nice pineapple and peach flavours and a dry long finish. I wish I could say something bad about this wine but in the end I fall short. (91 pts.) Others scored it 86ish or struggled to find nice things to say.

"I wish I could say something bad about this wine but in the end I fall short." I'm sorry, and I know these are prolly private notes and all, but wtf??? And I'd def say richness and not sweetness (although, yeah, maybe I could see a confusion, but he then says dry long finish. What a curious response, to praise a wine when you don't want to for some unexplained reason.

Interesting too that you had the Tondonia there and they liked it more. At the time I tasted the Isa and Tondonia, I literally did call them Baby Orange and Big Orange. I think it may be that the Isa is perhaps too young right now. It's showing more Vouvray Sec/Jasnieres-in-a-dry-year characteristics than SB right now, and I believe that will change and this wine will show some serious alterations as it ages.

Now that I think about it the disconnect for those who didn't like it but didn't know why? It emphasized aromatics and mouthfeel that weren't in their standard repertoire of the vairietal and it flummoxed them. Whereas with the Tondonia, it is such a singular wine and no one thinks of the varietal makeup anyway, that it's out there all by itself. Of course I could be full of crap too. (You guys sit down and shut up!)

sharper, tangier, zestier mouthful rather than insipidity incarnate

I remember that it was precisely this that drew me in. Up til then, the typical American SB was either A or B, described as having either "melon" or "vegetal" qualities, lemon and green bean were often the runners up. If you were lucky, you had one that the terms 'herbacious' or 'cat pee', if you were of a certain mind, earned as well. The broader citrus basket--lime, lemon, tangerine, sometimes grapefruit, it was all in there, along with sometimes some washed rind cheese--that the Kiwi SB's offered was something stunningly different while still being recognizable as Sauvignon Blanc.

Right! I can only add that SB also shows, in some places, sometimes and some years, sage. Which most Murkans don't identify often, but they nonetheless like.

I think this is the first time I've read a cassoulet report that doesn't mention Hirtzberger's Singerriedel Riesling.

I like to mix things up so I skipped having any Singerriedel. Anisman and Hoke Bogart it as a rule and the arguements ensue. I still have some bottles saved for next year including Hirtzberger, Knoll, Rudy Pichler, so we will not go wanting. Amen! Actually the group was very well mannered.

I think this is the first time I've read a cassoulet report that doesn't mention Hirtzberger's Singerriedel Riesling.

I like to mix things up so I skipped having any Singerriedel. Anisman and Hoke Bogart it as a rule and the arguements ensue. I still have some bottles saved for next year including Hirtzberger, Knoll, Rudy Pichler, so we will not go wanting. Amen! Actually the group was very well mannered.

Lou,
Are all of those upcoming wines '01s, aka Cuvée SFJoe? Not that there was anything wrong with that '01 Knoll you opened up at Rahsaan's sendoff at Cafe Rouge?

Mark Lipton

I think this is the first time I've read a cassoulet report that doesn't mention Hirtzberger's Singerriedel Riesling.

I like to mix things up so I skipped having any Singerriedel. Anisman and Hoke Bogart it as a rule and the arguements ensue. I still have some bottles saved for next year including Hirtzberger, Knoll, Rudy Pichler, so we will not go wanting. Amen! Actually the group was very well mannered.

Lou,
Are all of those upcoming wines '01s, aka Cuvée SFJoe? Not that there was anything wrong with that '01 Knoll you opened up at Rahsaan's sendoff at Cafe Rouge?

Mark Lipton

Mark, I'll have to wait until I get back in Napa March 1st to look up and verify the vintages. We'll be in the Palm Springs area until then.

Mark, I'll have to wait until I get back in Napa March 1st to look up and verify the vintages. We'll be in the Palm Springs area until then.

Lou, enjoy the desert and say hi to my aunt and uncle should you run into them on the golf course or playing bridge in the clubhouse My idle curiosity needs no answer.

Mark Lipton

Hey guys, thanks for all the comments about the Isa.
Perhaps, we should just say "it's an acquired taste."

And I am pleased it caused the interest; in a world of much sameness, it isn't.
Best, Jim

[David M. Bueker]

Hey guys, thanks for all the comments about the Isa.
Perhaps, we should just say "it's an acquired taste."

And I am pleased it caused the interest; in a world of much sameness, it isn't.
Best, Jim

Even though I was not a fan (love the Pinots though), I had to think really hard about why, and it required a second pour, so it sure held my interest.

Hey guys, thanks for all the comments about the Isa.
Perhaps, we should just say "it's an acquired taste."

And I am pleased it caused the interest; in a world of much sameness, it isn't.
Best, Jim

So, Jim? Now that we got your attention, give us some in-fo. What did you do with the wine that gives it the characteristics it has? Also, what's your take on what you expect the wine to be---which is to say, how do you feel about what you made, and what's your expectations for it? Is it, in your mind, a long-term developing wine? Is it ready to go right now, or do you think it will develop into something entirely different than what it is right now?

And is what Steve Edmonds claims true? Are you really a very, very, very old guy who's just well preserved? Are you really older than Ancient Steve? I'm asking 'cause I met your wife, and if you're that old why are you still catching the hot chicks?

they don't call him the Candyman for nothin'!

Hoke,
I think of the term "whippersnapper" as referencing attitude not age. Even with the adjective young. But then, Steve is living proof of that.

As for the wine, I do believe it will age. The 2008 version (never released) has gotten darker and now has a very nice ginger note; the structure is calmer but no less textural and the savory quality of the wine persists.
It was made just like a red wine; fermented to dry on its skins, pressed to barrel (old) and full ML.
I got the idea from Gravner and his ilk but wanted to try it with a grape that did not have the phenolic load of ribolla.
From here on, the words Sauvignon Blanc will not appear on the label; rather we will label it skin fermented white wine. Expectations being what they are, that seems prudent.
And, if I can figure out how, we will try aging this in amphorae one of these days.

Long term is anybody's guess. I will put some away each year and we'll see.

'Wish I could have been in town for the shindig - I am envious every year I read the notes.
Best, Jim

Long term is anybody's guess. I will put some away each year and we'll see.

"Anybody's guess" and "we'll see"??? Hey, you're supposed to be omniscient and authoritative about these things (maybe even a little bit pompous and fussy) and totally predictive---even if you make the stuff up---because you're, you know, the winemaker. Wait, I did say upstart and whippersnapper didn't I?