The first growths of Napa Valley

In 1855 Napoleon Bonaparte asked that the Medoc classify its wines, perhaps so that he could determine which to buy. Only four chateaux — Lafite Rothschild, Margaux, Haut Brion and Latour — were judged to be worthy of the coveted first-growth classification. The grouping has remained largely intact — Mouton Rothschild was added in 1976 after intensive lobbying.

No other wine region has classified its wines like this, preferring instead to divide them according to time in cask (Spain), by vineyard (U.S.), by crus, price or by the vague term “reserve.” Even a president like Donald Trump couldn’t follow in Bonaparte’s footsteps and order it to be done in, say, California. However, I’ve often mused about which properties in Napa Valley would make the first-growth cut.

If history influenced the decision, I’d have to consider Chateau Montela, Louis Martini, Beringer, Caymus, Beaulieu, Heitz Cellars, Chappellet, Dominus, Opus One, Joseph Phelps, Mondavi. If I pulled in producers with less history, I would consider Screaming Eagle, Spottswoode, Sullivan, Cliff Lede, Gamble and Ladera.

The reserve cabernet sauvignons of these producers sell for more than $100 a bottle — in some cases more than $3,000. Not many people — even collectors — will pay that much for California cabernet sauvignon, especially when they can buy a second-growth Margaux for less.

What happened?

Many winemakers tell me there is more labor involved in farming mountain fruit that is often the source for the best cabernets. But, more likely, they will charge whatever the market bears. They make little of their best wines, sell it to their club members and develop a waiting list to drive the fear of being left out.

Most of them resist comparing their wines to those of Bordeaux and I get that because the soil, winemaking and blend is often different. But consumers will compare the two regions. And, winemakers insist that however unique their Napa wine, it is every bit as good as Bordeaux.

Bonjour, Domaine Serene -- et, bon chance?

Ken and Grace Evenstad have always loved the chardonnay and pinot noir from Burgundy. In the late 1980s they launched one of the most successful pinot noir houses in the Willamette Valley and sought to pursue their dream of making exceptional wine in the United States.  Indeed, Domaine Serene has been winning awards ever since.

But the Evenstads couldn't let go of their Burgundian dreams. In 2015, they purchased a 15th century chateau -- Chateau de la Crée -- in Santenay. I would think that breakthrough would cause a stir in the chateau's tiny village of Santenay. After all, it wasn't that long ago that Robert Mondavi was rudely rebuffed by the French in an attempt to plant a vineyard in Languedoc. 

But, the Evenstads were no Mondavis.

"The deal was completed in a few months," said Ryan Harris, president of Domaine Serene.

An American wine producer buying an historic chateau of this order is more unusual than a French producer buying wine property in the United States. Moet-Chandon was among the first to do launch a sparkling wine company in California in 1973. Champagne makers Taittinger and Roederer soon followed. Then came Clos du Val, Dominus, Opus One (a partnership of Mondavi and Baroness Philippine de Rothschild). In Oregon, Burgundian Robert Drouhin of Maison Joseph Drouhin raised eyebrows -- and prestige -- when he launched Domaine Drouhin in Oregon's Willamette Valley. But the Evanstads were the first Oregonians to own a chateau in Burgundy.

Grace Evenstad, who was recently hosting a wine dinner in Naples, Fl., said the differences between making wine in Oregon and France were clear one day when she showed a Burgundian winemaker their Willamette Valley vineyards. 

"She said to me, 'Which rows are yours?'" Evenstad said.

In Burgundy, it is common for a vineyard to have multiple owners.

Harris said that throwing a lot of parties, meeting neighbors, and developing good relations with local officials paved the way for the purchase. But, the transition to making good wine was not so smooth.

Evenstad said, "Everyone is now gone."

Whether they left on their own or were replaced wasn't clear, but she said that they were surprised by the lack of "science" at Chateau de la Crée. She said vineyards lack adequate spacing between rows and even if the vineyards were bio-dynamically farmed -- whatever that means in France -- the pesticides and other chemicals from neighboring vineyards were wafting onto those of Chateau de la Crée.

Ken and Grace Evenstad.

She was quick to distance Domaine Serene from the pinot noirs being poured at the tasting. "They aren't ours," she warned, lest someone came away with an unfavorable impression of their new venture. 

Despite the caveat, I enjoyed the Chateau de la Crée Clos de la Confrerie Monopole Santenay.

The tasting bravely paired a Domaine Serene pinot noir with a Chateau de la Crée pinot noir and there was an obvious New World vs. Old World difference. The Santenay wines had an earthy, barnyard profile classic to Burgundy and its terroir. However, the Domaine Serene Evanstad Reserve was undeniably a superior pinot noir.

It will be interesting to watch what the Evenstads do with the wines from this historic chateau and how they manage the French. Will they Americanize them with bolder fruit, higher alcohols and more fruit extraction?

I don't think it is going to be as smooth as they think. They are asking the French to adapt to their practices and no matter how much better they are, it doesn't always go down well with the sensitive French.

Bon chance, Ken and Grace.

Abacus: ZD's wonderful invention

For my 70th birthday, a friend brought over a 2006 Opus One. I decided to pair it with my lone bottle of ZD's Abacus, a wine that was given to me years ago by a mutual friend of ours. They were two outstanding wines -- the Opus was showing better but i always thought it was overrated. But the ZD was unique, albeit still evolving.

Abacus was an invention of ZD's winemakers who were enjoying aged cabernet sauvignon one day and wondered what would happened if they added the young fruit of a current vintage. This solera style of winemaking that blends vintages is common to Champagne but rarely found outside of that region. The one exception I'm familiar with is Marietta's Old Vine that is mostly zinfandel bottled without regard to vintage.

The first release of Abacus was in 1999 and included cabernet sauvignon from the 1992 to 1998 vintages. They used about 15 percent of this inventory to make 200 cases -- I got one of the bottles of a three-bottle case that cost $1,500. The rest of the wine was saved for subsequent vintages. Each year they add some of the current vintage and on it goes. The wine is now in its 19th incarnation.

The wine is not cheap. Today you can find Abacus for about $700 a bottle. 

It was a beautifully textured wine with a remarkable echo of an aged wine and the exuberance of youthful fruit. I decanted it for an hour and it still seemed tight in the nose but broad on the palate with classic Napa Valley flavors. The fine tannins indicated that it was not fully mature.

What a wine.

Dave Phinney is now blending grapes across regions, so the conventions that once pervaded the wine industry are being destroyed.