Now that Oregon is on the map for producing globally recognized pinot noir, other success stories are following in its wake. While not technically a debut, chardonnay is making a comeback in the Willamette Valley.
The same Burgundian regions that produce French pinot noir also grow chardonnay. Early Oregon planters didn’t actually miss this connection. Chardonnay was, in fact, planted with the first Oregon pinot noir vineyards in the 1960’s and 70’s. But, it was given the leftover space — the nutrient-rich low lying land not useful for growing finicky pinot noir.
Chardonnay vines are quite adept growers, easily adapting to the valley. They produced vigorous growth and really boring grapes lacking nuanced flavor. Instead of giving chardonnay the challenging plots inhabited by its more lucrative Burgundian cousin, growers largely abandoned efforts to cultivate chardonnay in Oregon.
Slowly, growers and winemakers are rediscovering chardonnay. In 2012, Durant Vineyards owner Paul Durant decided to bring more focused attention to the trend, launching the region’s first Oregon Chardonnay Symposium. Attendance has increased dramatically from 50 the first year to a sold-out 250 in its fourth year.
So, what is everyone so excited about? Read on as I plunge into the front lines — a firsthand account of the “Attack of the Clones.”
Part 2: The Oregon Chardonnay Symposium, Stoller Family Estate
It’s been unseasonably warm and dry for weeks in the PNW, but March will not be cheated. We awoke to drizzle and shuffled to the Stoller farmhouse kitchen in search of coffee. Several women were already clicking away at laptops, updating twitter feeds and starting articles. The Pi Day moment of the century slipped by in a fog of coffee-laced morning breath.
The main event didn’t begin until 2 p.m. giving us time to stop by Republic of Jam in Carlton for smoked cocktail cherries (essential to any respectable pantry) and do some small town browsing. I didn’t plan for strolls in the rain, however. My red leather flats were leaking before I even had time to notice everything in town was still closed.
Several failed plans and hours later, the clock was ticking towards showtime. We had just enough time to grab some lunch at the very packed Red Hills Market before heading up to Stoller for the symposium. I squished and squelched in my wet shoes to the entrance, an open flap in the white tent, checking in while shivering without a coat.
Since we arrived a bit early, we snagged great second row seats on the right side. Our place settings featured six glasses for the much-anticipated technical tasting, one for each panelist and the moderator.
Maybe you’re someone who frequents wine symposiums, but this is still a bit new to me and I assumed a “technical tasting” meant that the winemakers would “technically” educate me about each wine. Most of the panelists barely touched on their wine, preferring instead to extoll the virtues of Burgundy (wait, isn’t this the Oregon Chardonnay Symposium?) and, in the case of Bethel Heights winegrower Mimi Casteel, wax poetic on beauty, authenticity and other nicely considered soundbites instantly circulating on Twitter.
Still awaiting the hotly anticipated “Attack of the Clones” to make an entrance, I was confused when moderator Rajat Parr, partner and proprietor at Seven Springs Estate, admitted that he, “never actually paid attention to clones.” Or when the first panelist, winemaker and owner Jason Lett of The Eyre Vineyards, began the conversation by announcing the “end of the clonal era…Burgundian growers never talk about clones and…can we please stop talking about clones?”
Perhaps clones have been passionately debated in the wine-making circles of the Willamette Valley for years, but at a symposium named in their honor, there didn’t seem to be much talk of clones at all! It was beginning to appear that the emotionally inciting theme was not much more than a clever Star Wars-inspired gimmick.
From left to right: Paul Durant at the mic, Rajat Parr, Jason Lett, John Paul
Though lacking a battle cry, at least John Paul of Cameron Winery (“dedicated to producing high-quality, hand-crafted, non-irrigated and sustainably farmed libations for the people”) illuminated us on “clones” — exact genetic match with single ancestor — versus “vineyard selections” — came from the same field, could be clone or a completely different variety.
He also debunked the idea that all grapevine viruses are bad. Most viruses have a minimal effect and some can even lead to a groovier “melange” of flavor. (Paul didn’t actually say “groovier,” but ten bucks says he was thinking it).
According to Paul, the more [clones], the merrier. As you might guess, he doesn’t bother with conventional ripeness indicators like brix or pH, preferring to make “interesting, kick ass wines” in a gentler, more instinctual fashion. And it’s working — his 2012 Clos Electrique Blanc was one of the best chardonnays of the day.
The reason modern Burgundian growers have no need to discuss chardonnay clones is simple. Monks dedicated their lives and significant church resources to the study and propagation of wine grapes centuries ago. Current growers already know which clones grow best and where because they have been producing amazing wines for ages.
Taken at Bethel Heights, Eola-Amity Hills AVA
Cool climate chardonnay growers in the New World (aka Oregon’s Willamette Valley) are the new monks. Fifty years into the process, they are still figuring things out — which does better on a south facing slope in the Jory soil of Dundee Hills: Heritage clones? Dijon 76 or 96? perhaps a Drapper selection? Change the parameters to sedimentary soil, east facing, with an elevation change and maybe those same clones will produce interesting wines or maybe a Dijon 4 or 108 will be necessary.
“In the end,” Parr concludes, “it’s all about terrior.”
For chardonnay, it is human-imposed restriction that produces truly special qualities. It takes decades to understand how to coax the highest potential from a plot of land and a twist of vine.
Oregon’s chardonnay story is not about clones. It is about place. Clones are merely the vehicle from soil to swirl.
Stay tuned for Part 3…a few tasting notes from the Oregon Chardonnay Symposium Grand Tasting.
Nothing conveys “fresh” like a convenience store. Says no one ever.
Savory*Characters*nw 