Those of us who make Pinot noir tend to be pretty passionate about this grape, the wines, and the issues of style for this noble variety. The passion leaks out into other things, which I'll occasionally touch on here.
I often get the question: what is the difference between Seven of Hearts and Luminous Hills, so…
Seven of Hearts and Luminous Hills were conceived at the same time, but implemented in stages. Each has a different focus. There’s no qualitative difference between the two labels – the winemaking approach is the same using traditional methods such as native yeast fermentation, whole cluster fermentation (where appropriate), minimal handling and additions, and largely unfiltered and unfined. Luminous Hills wines are from 100% estate fruit. It’s about a particular place in a transition zone within the Yamhill-Carlton AVA. Seven of Hearts is about exploring other vineyards, other AVAs (American Viticultural Areas), and other varietals.
Our goal is to make accessible (meaning both affordable and approachable) wines that are genuine expressions of different varietals, where they are from, and the conditions under which they were grown; wines with complexity, purity and elegance. It’s not limited to the Willamette Valley, but includes the other nearby regions we explore, currently the Columbia Valley (both Oregon and Washington). We strive to never make the same wine twice – each wine should be a unique expression of a time and place – the vintage and vineyards (or blends of vineyards) they are from. Great wines are ones that keep your interest over time: ten years, three months, or over the course of an evening – it should show more layers, more texture, more nuance as the wine opens up with air and with each course of the meal.
Seven of Hearts
As important as Pinot Noir is to us – after all, that’s what drew us here to the Willamette Valley, and our own vineyard, Luminous Hills, is all planted to Pinot noir – my feeling is that one can’t live by Pinot noir alone: Grenache, Cabernet Franc, Nebbiolo, and many other varietals, are all intensely interesting. And as diverse as Luminous Hills Vineyard is, the many different expressions of Pinot noir can’t be captured in one place. And that’s where Seven of Hearts comes in, to venture beyond Luminous Hills.
The portfolio of Seven of Hearts wines includes several vineyards in the Willamette Valley from which we purchase Pinot noir. These vineyards currently include select sites in the Eola-Amity Hills, Dundee Hills, Ribbon Ridge, and Chahalem Mountains. In each case, the relationships with the growers are as important as the careful selections based on the soils, sites, farming practices (mostly LIVE certified), and clonal selections. Contracts define specific rows with agreements for farming practices that will produce maximum quality (e.g., managing ground cover and vine canopy, dry farming, proper yield, and the timing of harvest).
Since Luminous Hills is planted only with Pinot noir, all other varietals produced under the Seven of Hearts label come from other sites, both within the Willamette Valley (for cooler climate grapes such as Chardonnay, but also the Columbia Valley, where we source varietals that require different conditions, such as warmer weather. Our preference is for locations along the Columbia River for the moderating influences of the water, the wind that is so beneficial to the health of the vines, and the well-draining gravelly/sandy soils that impart so much character to the wine. This, for example, is where our Rhone varietals are grown, such as Viognier, Roussanne, Grenache, Syrah, and Mouvedre.
While Luminous Hills will always be limited by the physical size of the vineyard at that site (11.2 acre), Seven of Hearts will continue to grow (but only to the extent that the highest levels of quality can be maintained), as we explore additional varietals and types of wine. Our newest releases include an Ice wine style Viognier sweet wine and a robust Alsatian style Pinot Gris. Future releases in the works include a Grenache Syrah Mouvedre blend, and a Loire Valley influenced Cabernet Franc.
Luminous Hills
When looking for a site for our Pinot noir, key was finding some soil diversity on a cooler site to set things up for more complex, structured, elegant, and highly expressive wines. Most of the places we looked at were limited in their soil types or clones, or awkwardly matched. What became Luminous Hills Vineyard was appealing for the two very well delineated soil areas as well as the intriguing slopes and aspects (steep and diverse, but well-oriented). The goal was to find a site that would produce fruit with broad array of fruit expressions, in proportion and well intermingled with other dimensions of minerality, spice, and texture.
The different blocks are divisions of the soil types and clones of Pinot noir. The lower part of the vineyard between 600 and 700 feet is sedimentary Willakenzie-like soils. The upper elevation, between 700 and 800 feet, is volcanic Jory. We’ve planted clones of Pinot noir (in combination with rootstocks) appropriate for each. Pommard (at 38%) on sedimentary soil is the foundation for the vineyard, providing a darker fruit dimension. Lighter, red fruit character is driven by the upper elevation volcanic soils. There, we’ve focused on Dijon clones, which benefit from the longer ripening time at that elevation (countering their tendency to ripen too quickly in warmer situations).
With the different Luminous Hills blends, the idea is to create distinct wines that highlight some of the differences available through the different combinations of soil and clone. The regular bottling, the silver label, uses the broadest selections from the vineyard: the 667 on the upper elevation volcanic part of the vineyard to impart brighter fruit and minerality; darker, spicer notes are derived from the 115 on sedimentary, with 20% of the wine from the Pommard on sedimentary that has been whole cluster fermented. The Pommard contributes the round fleshy quality, with added layers of complexity given by the tannins from the whole cluster fermentation.
LUX is a smaller production, special selection using a large foundation (2/3rds) of the Pommard grown on sedimentary soil, providing the bass notes to the wine – but with enough 777 from the upper elevation volcanic soil for more structure and high tone lift. The overall amount of whole cluster fermentation in this wine is 50%, mostly from one of the lots of Pommard that was 100% whole cluster fermented, with some partially whole cluster fermented 777 in a supporting role).
The ASTRA is new with the 2009 vintage, and made possible by the high percentage of whole cluster fermentation afforded by the characteristics in the vineyard that year. It shares much in common with the silver label, the 667 and 115, but with no Pommard. But, what really distinguishes the ASTRA is that all of the 667 is whole cluster fermented, and at 60% the highest percentage of the three, notably elevating the influences from the volcanic part of the vineyard. I consider the LUX and the ASTRA equal, but with very different personalities: LUX is more voluptuous, ASTRA more radiant.
Last time when we concluded our discussion on what makes Pinot noir special, we did hint at the essential and special character of other varietals as well. with the release of our new Rhone style red wines, it’s an ideal opportunity to talk about what is so compelling about these types of wines.
While eventually (and by that I mean with the 2010 vintage, as we dipped our toes in with Cabernet Franc), we will be producing Bordeaux style blends again, the calling has come more quickly to expand from the Burgundian Pinot noir and Chardonnay varietals to the soulful expression of the Rhone varietals, first with our white Rhone wines (Viognier & Roussanne) and now with Grenache & Syrah (and in 2010, Mouvedre as well). The order is simply a functions of what we find at our own table most often with the foods we favor, and the opportunity to work closely with a grower who has planted several varieties on ideal sites of his along the Columbia Gorge in the Columbia Valley AVA.
It’s a treat to have the opportunity to work with 15-year-old Grenache and Syrah vines situated on ideal sites — truly reminiscent of the regions where these varietals initially gained their reputation in the Rhone Valley of France — right along the Washington side of the Columbia Gorge. All the elements that make those wines great there, are present here as well: the heat, the moderating influence of the river, the winds (much like the Mistral winds of the Rhone Valley), and the gravelly sandy soil).
These are special wines because they have a lot of soul. The Syrah is more of a northern Rhone meaty, earthy expression than the more fruity expression you may have come to know. The Grenache is the one that brings the fruit to the party. The truth is both of these were acquired to make the blend, something that reflects some of my favorite red Rhone wines, such as Chateauneuf du Pape that is dominated by the elegance of Grenache, but with enough Syrah to give it penetrating depth and backbone. However, the temptation was too great not to make just a little bit of each by themselves, both two barrel selections. This are very interesting and delightful specimens of the variety (just under 50 cases of each made).
Similar to our Pinot Noirs, we take a natural approach to these wines, employing native yeast fermentation whenever possible, obtaining genuine expressions of the varieties. Neither of these varietals saw any new oak. All five barrels of Grenache were aged in neutral (3 years or older) barrels, while the three of the four barrels used for the Syrah were 1 year old barrels (a particularly nice marriage with Syrah), and one neutral barrel. This allows the site characteristics and varietal nuances to come through without being overwhelmed by oak.
It’s not hard to find people who know and love Syrah, but Grenache is something that fewer people here seem to have encountered by itself, although they are probably familiar with it as the workhorse of many European blends. We hope you try and enjoy all three of them, as well as others made locally and abroad, and find Rhone style red wines to be great accompaniments to your dinner table.
Aside from silkiness and finesse, layers and texture, nuance and subtlety — complexity — what is it that makes Pinot noir so special? My answer would be its unique ability to tell you where it was grown, to express very clearly the time, place, and conditions under which it was grown. Yes, there are other grapes that do this to varying degrees, but Pinot noir — when allowed — seems to tell this story particularly well.
This is the reason why our primary goal for Pinot noir is to respect this grape’s voice. It’s why our guiding principles in making Pinot noir include using natural methods, avoiding over-extraction, and not focusing on color. What makes Pinot noir more challenging, but also more rewarding, is that it requires you do less in order to obtain more from the grape. This is counter-intuitive, and suggests less work, but actually requires more effort and attention to what each lot from each vineyard and each section of each vineyard requires. It’s less about adding things and more about paying attention to what brings out the best and defining character of each lot.
The reason over-extraction of Pinot noir is counter-productive is that it usually means getting things you don’t want, like bitterness and astringency — which, in order to correct, requires fining, a process that removes the offensive qualities, but also strips the character of the wine. It makes the wine one-dimensional, undistinctive. The point with Pinot noir is not more color — it will be different depending on site, soil, clone, vintage — but more character and expression. The color will be beautiful in its many forms, but it doesn’t tell you about what to expect in the way of flavor — there’s no correlation between the color of Pinot and its intensity and flavor. Unlike Cabernet Sauvignon, Syrah, and so many other red grape varieties, there’s simply not a lot of color in the skin of Pinot Noir, and to try to choke more out of it, takes it from what it does best: tell you its story of where its from.
These qualities of Pinot noir explain why it is a special area of focus at Seven of Hearts and Luminous Hills, and why we make so many of them: appellation wines, single vineyard designates, and special blends such as our Willamette Valley and Reserve. Each of these is a unique expression of a a time and place: the vintage and vineyard (or combination of vineyards) from which they were made. We would consider it a failure to make the same wine twice. Each wine should provide a special experience and memory drawn from the history of the fruit from which it was made.
That all said, one cannot live by Pinot noir alone, and next time, in advance of our release of our first Rhone style red wines, we’ll talk about several other essential food groups: Grenache and Syrah.
I’m often asked the question “how much of winemaking is science and how much is art?” The answer varies for each winemaker, and perhaps even for each wine, but a nice concise answer that fits reasonably well for me is fifty-fifty. Much as we talk about how acidity in wine is necessary for a wine to age, it is not sufficient for it to age gracefully: you also need structure, deep flavors, and balance amongst these components. So it is with science: it is necessary to understand and use science in the making of wine, but it is not enough to make a great wine.
So, as it takes both science and art to make great wine, and given they are both necessary, I rate them equal and the reason is this: while science is a critical tool to provide information such as pH, titratable cidity, volatile acidity, residual sugar, free sulfer, etc. that will guide your decisions as a winemaker, it is not possible for science to make the decisions. It is judgment — and in this context, we are calling it art — that is required to make the decisions.
As an example, amongst the most important decisions a winemaker makes (aside from the source of the fruit itself) is when to pick the grapes. This is what determines the basic composition of the fruit in terms of the eventual balance of the wine amongst alcohol, acidity, and flavor. Soluble solids (primarily sugar) and acidity are reasonably easy scientific measures that can be made via refractometer, pH meter and titration, that will assist in the decision, but (as of this time and for the foreseeable future), there is no scientific measure for flavor. It is the assessment of those flavors and the judgment as to when they are “right” that is the non-scientific (or “artistic”) component of winemaking. Some other key decisions requiring such judgment revolve around fermentation management (what temperature? how long?) and blending trials (the infinite possibilities require considerable artistic shaping).
Now, in some recent discussions in the tasting room, we debated whether, in fact, there is another equal partner in the equation: luck. That would make it one-third science, one-third art, and one-third luck. While I grant that there are considerable factors outside our control, most notably the weather, and that those factors can have a dramatic influence on the wine, it suggests that most wines for any given winemaker would only be average given how much would be outside his or her control. But, I believe that it is also a major part of a winemaker’s job to make something of the vintage given to them, and that is therefore part of the art.
This is a continuation of some of the thoughts while assessing the 2009 vintage. Looking back on the past four vintages in Oregon, it’s remarkable how truly distinct each one them has been. Of course, vintages are like fingerprints, and no two will be exactly alike, but there are fundamental and profound distinctions amongst the last four. 2006 was a warmer vintage, but fairly even-keeled — no real extremes, with a very predictable climax, creating an almost California-like character to the wines. 2007 was a cooler year with an extended rainy finish, enabling what truly was a Burgundian vintage with structured, elegant wines. 2008, cool again, but this time with an exceptional extended finish to the year, supplying the material for a rare vintage. And then we have 2009, certainly the most erratic season of the group, with heat spikes and cool pockets, intermixed with rain and high humidity.
Another remarkable thing about the vintages, as a collection, is what they tell us about the potential they create for wines. Certainly there is no correlation between easy and good or difficult and bad. As we mused before, perhaps the most profound impact a winemaker can have on his or her wines is when making the decision to pick. 2006 was an easy year providing easy guidance on when to pick the grapes, in some fashion forcing our hands to harvest perhaps a little earlier than ideal physiological ripening would demand, but dictating with rapidly escalating sugars and depleting acids. The result was plump forward enjoyable wines, but perhaps with a ceiling mandated on their greatness. 2007, unquestionably the most difficult of the four vintages, required a great deal of judgment and caution, balancing the condition of the vines and the desire to push the fruit further for deeper fruit, but at least giving us a chance to produce wines with seriious phenolic character and wines with structure, ageability,and food-worthiness. 2008 was that most rare of years, where the decisions are relatively easy and the outcome most assuredly magnificent — a long cool growing season, giving us both complex fruit, structure, fine tannins, and most importantly, natural balance. 2009, as suggested earlier, was a roller coaster, another vintage filled with challenges, but of a very different sort than 2007. Here it was heat instead of cold and rain, but more than that, a tremendous variability between vineyards and sites depending on soils, microclimate, and water availability. This will result in some tremendously diverse and interesting wines, some with the potential for greatness.
In the end, each vintage produced wines of interest and character, certainly none that could (or should) be characterized as bad. Several with great potential. And, of course, it is these variations in vintage, especially when coupled with the inherent character of Pinot Noir to express itself uniquely in different conditions, that makes this all so fascinating. Keep the variations coming, nature — this is where Pinot noir truly shines.
It’s very early to be assessing the 2009 vintage, but it’s still of value to do so, in part as a baseline for the evaluations of the wines to come: those that come after the wines have been in bottle for 3 month, 6 months, a year, and of course, many more after that. The wines are always changing, naturally, and that is what makes them so intriguing and captivating. And this is where it starts.
The easy call on 2009 is that it is a lot like 2006. It does have some basic points of comparison, such as being a warmer vintage, but there is more that distinguishes it from 2006 than aligns it. Most significantly, it was highly variable depending on where the fruit was coming from. 2006 was a pretty straight-ahead warm year, calling for picking in a reasonably predictable window and with fairly uniform results. That was a year where the challenges were minimal, and the vintage made success fairly easy to obtain (I thank my stars, as a newbie in the vintage). In 2009, fruit from different sites had to be picked at very different times, depending on the soil, water,and microclimate. The range for picking from our small number of sites extended from September 26 to October 26, a fairly large window, considering the heat.
While 2007 and 2009 couldn’t be more different in terms of the conditions (cool and early rain in 2007, heat and dehydration in 2009), they were similar in one respect: they both called for a great deal of judgment in picking that varied greatly by sub-appellation, by vineyard, and even within certain blocks of vineyards. Conditions varied from north to south, with dehydration being the issue in northern AVAs, and obtaining ideal physiological ripeness being the challenge in the south.
It’s early, yes, but one thing is clear: 2009 will provide wines with a wide range of character and quality, delivering intrigue and entertainment for quite some time as the unique aspects of the vintage unfold. It proves once again, that in spite of the inexorable forces that tend to classify each vintage with a narrow label, there will be many great wines to explore, and this is where fun begins.
That most important time of year for winemakers has arrived quickly this year — harvest, the time when our most meaningful decisions are made. While still secondary to the site, the soil, the clones, the management of the vines,the winemaker has his or her biggest impact on the final wines by choosing the date of harvest. Of course, there are many other important steps — fermentation strategies and blending, most significantly — along the many months journey for each wine, but it is the assessment of flavor and balance with the more mundane chemistry of the fruit, that has the biggest impact.
What will 2009 hold for us? For all that has happened — and no doubt it has been a highly eventful, roller-coaster summer in our many vineyards and appellations — it is still too early to give with certainty a characterization for the vintage (heck, the 2007 vintage has still not been fairly or accurately assessed at this point). What we can say with a degree of confidence, is that it won’t be a cool vintage. Good? Bad? Yes.
Fundamentally, at least in this part of my life, I consider myself a farmer and a winemaker. Since I started down this road, I knew there would be a time when the sales part would become a sizeable percentage of my activity in this venture. My personality being what it is, I didn’t see that as easy, but necessary, and at least of interest as a challenge and a stretch. What I’ve learned since I started in on this phase about a year and a quarter ago has surprised me: it’s been a tremendous pleasure. Part of it is seeing the fruits of the labor — appreciation for and interest in the wines (after all, I’m not necessarily making the wines the critics like to see, but wines that I truly believe in). Being self distributed at the start, I had the opportunity to meet with the retailers and restaurant sommeliers and gained at least an indirect sense of the customer and their experience with the wine.
But, especially educational and rewarding has been the experience in the tasting room and a direct connection with the customer. There are certainly the people who are looking for the big extracted Pinot noir, who go away empty handed and unfulfilled. But, and especially increasingly, people are connecting with these wines, and in particular the amazing quality that Pinot Noir has to express itself and tell you where it is from. So, I’ve gone from reluctant salesman, to a protective one — protecting my time in the tasting room as I do my time in the vineyard and cellar. It is what eventually led me to move into distribution channels quicker than I had originally intended. Even now it is hard to make enough time for a couple of afternoons a week to be there with the customers, and it was becoming impossible while also working the retail and restaurant channels. Being fortunate enough to have distributors I trust and and who believe in the wines, it allows me to focus on the three most important things: the vineyard, the wines, and now direct contact with the customers in the tasting room.
Here’s what gives me the most profound pleasure about this: the utter randomness of the experience each day. Except for specific appointments, you never know who is going to walk through that door: in addition to the certain enjoyment of time with regular customers and wine club members, there is tremendous excitement in having someone come in for the first time, perhaps reluctantly, and then quite often seeing a new believer in true Pinot Noir. It is a remarkable adventure, like the creation of the wine itself, the creation of a new piece of art, visiting a new country, or forming a new friendship. I’ve often thought of myself as a pretty structured person — its part of what works for me in winemaking — but, being in front of the customer, the thrill of the unknown pervades each day and keeps some nice surprises coming…
With fine spring weather upon us and as many of us are out in the wine country to sample the local wine offerings, this seems a good time to share a personal view on assessing wine. While there are a multitude of complex quantifiable, as well as difficult to articulate subjective approaches to assessing the quality of wine (all of which I recommend as they do add to the pleasure of wine), I have found one simple means assessing a great wine: does it entertain you?
Not just in one moment, but in the course of time. And not only in the long years under uncertain conditions, but also in the short, the very short, and the medium timeframes that are the bulk of our experiences with our wines. Does it stand up to the introductory chat, the long engaging conversation over the course of multiple courses? Is the second glass more engaging than the first, revealing more of itself (or has it gone flat, giving but a one note performance)? Does the second sip tell you more because the initial sensory impact was too much to discern the many layers and textures? Like a great movie, are there details and nuances that are revealed with each encounter? And, does it captivate you the same way the second and third time you’ve tried it over the course of months? Finally, does it evolve and change in complex ways in the timeframe that should be the natural course of transformation for that particular variety in the region and vintage from which it was produced?
Wine is often said to contain many mysteries. The scientific pursuit of wine endeavors to reveal these. The fact that we are always discovering more suggests infinite possibilities and reveals the artistic element (both man and nature) that complements the science in the making of a great wine. There is no end of mystery in a truly fine wine, and that is highly entertaining.
One of questions that comes up often in the course of conversation with our customers is the significance of our label (the specifics of that a topic better suited to the tasting room than here). Invariably, that leads to a discussion of traditional winemaking and what that means. The truth is, it means different things to different winemakers, in so much as there are, of course, many different traditions. For us, what it means, ultimately, is those techniques (or lack of them) that produce wines that are genuine and pure, and result in wines that are honest and have character, in a fashion similar to how wine has been made for centuries, that is, without additions or heavy manipulation.
Using Pinot Noir as a case in point, the goal is to make wines that are pure and balanced, silky and elegant — as Pinot Noir will be when attention is paid to the timing and care in handling it. One of the challenges of making Pinot Noir, aside from the inherent fussiness of the grape in how it responds to how it is handled, is staying true to the grape in spite of the pressures to make it something it is not. For example, Pinot Noir does not have a lot of inherent color relative to many other red wine grapes (take Syrah or Cabernet). To try to extract more color than is readily available, invariably means extracting other things as well. The result, while not always displeasing, tends to overwhelm the subtle complexities of Pinot that are at the core of its noble heritage. As such, color in Pinot noir is over-rated. Color will vary with the clone, the soil, the weather, and a host of other natural influences. A deeper color in a Pinot noir can be quite beautiful and is not a thing to avoid, however a lack of it does not mean a lack of depth of flavor and intensity. There is rarely a correlation between color and quality, complexity, or concentration of flavor.
The trade-off is to use modern techniques like enzymes, wood additives, or specialized commercial yeast preparations to pull out more color — or to rely on handling, timing, temperature, and air as a means for just the right amount of extraction to achieve balance and complexity appropriate for the fruit at hand . While there are variations in how extreme we are in adhering to such notions, and even perhaps to the extent of the practices, or the lack thereof — us “traditionalists” generally believe less is better when it comes to adding stuff to wine, and instead, put a premium on the importance of paying attention to what is happening to the must and eventually the wine, in order to achieve our goals of purity and complexity for this most delicate of grapes.
