Icewine and Beyond By Mark Criden Which wine goes best with crow? I spent an awful lot of time thinking about this during my recent visit to the tasting rooms of several of Niagara’s icewine specialists. Already in serious training for this month’s Niagara Icewine Festival, I wanted to sample the latest crop of dessert wines. I had also headed north to poke around the ballyhooed Le Clos Jordan joint venture between Vincor, the large Toronto-based wine company, and J.C. Boisset, the French Burgundy conglomerate. World-class Pinot Noir and Chardonnay from Niagara was the advertised goal here, but if we had somehow missed the “world-class wine” part, the design of the winery itself—by big shot architect Frank Gehry—had grabbed our attention by the throat. The design by Gehry—he of the Guggenheim in Bilbao, Spain—caused quite a stir when unveiled last year. The interior, complete with a great hall and soaring columns would be dramatic, but it was the exterior that generated most of the buzz. Set smack in the middle of the vineyards and surrounded by woodlands, the winery will be “a gently flowing structure with curvy white plaster walls and an undulating metal roof” which will reveal itself slowly—slinkily even—as you drive along the edge of the vineyard. Gehry modestly described it as “a cathedral of wine.” Don Triggs, Vincor’s ambitious CEO, said the facility—and the wine—would be “a real feast for the senses.” Sort of like Blaze Starr on the pulpit of St. John the Divine. Boisset, a Burgundy powerhouse founded in 1961, brought a certain Euro-status to the project. But despite all the hype, Boisset had never been known as an especially high-quality player. If great Burgundy, both red and white, has intense, seductive flavor and a haunting, sexy bouquet, Boisset’s wines were prim and bloodless. If great Burgundy has class and soul, Boisset’s were correct but dull. If Archer Daniels Midland made wine, its name would be Boisset. The French firm had built itself into a juggernaut through the acquisition of numerous faltering Burgundy firms—Jaffelin, Moreau, Mommesin and others—and found its computer dating match in Vincor. Triggs had combined Jackson-Triggs vineyard in Niagara on the Lake with its neighbor Inniskillin, California’s R.H. Phillips, Washington State’s Hogue Cellars, and most recently, Australia’s Goundrey winery—creating North America’s fourth-largest wine producer. But other than Inniskillin’s somewhat famous stickies—as dessert wines are affectionately known—this was a collection of “me-too’s,” designed to secure a safe place on the shelves of the corner wine shop or on restaurant wine lists. Now, every wine-growing region needs an engine, a champion. Someone to carry the banner, to shine a spotlight on the wines of an area, to focus worldwide attention on the promise and produce of a region’s vineyards. Think of Mondavi in California, Gaja in Piedmont, Antinori in Tuscany, Rosemount and Penfolds in Australia, Leroy and the Domaine de la Romanee Conti in Burgundy, the first growths—Latour, Lafite, Mouton, Margaux, Haut Brion—in Bordeaux, Dagenaux in Pouilly Fume, Guigal in the Rhone. They all embody the two critical elements for success: the vision and commitment to produce great wine, and the genius and flair for promoting it. To date, the vines just over the border have been viewed as little more than curiosities, aimed mainly at tourists who cruise Queen Street, wondering how to fill their time between Pygmalion and You Can’t Take it with You. Although our Ontario cousins are pumped about their wines, only the icewines have achieved any meaningful notoriety, with the rest earning a collective “So what?” from the world’s amis du vin. They could use an engine, too. But what they seemed to be getting was only the marketing. It’s almost time to pass the crow. Coal into Diamonds It’s hard to see how Icewine might ever be the subject of a mass-marketing campaign. There’s just not that much of it, despite the best efforts of winemakers in Niagara and Germany, where it was discovered by happy accident 200 years ago. The chemistry is pretty elementary: grapes—which are mostly water, anyhow—are left on their vines well past normal harvest times and turn into little rock-hard ovals of ice in frigid winter conditions. When crushed, these frozen grapes each release only a few drops of sweet, highly-concentrated nectar. The very greatest icewines are never cloying: their sweetness is balanced by a refreshing tang of natural acidity, like a fully ripe peach. Icewine is the wine world’s demonstration that whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. The grapes that eventually cede their juice are survivors, of winds, rains, and cold. They’ve escaped birds and other predators as they’ve clung to their vines waiting to be rescued. The newly picked grapes aren’t pretty, but at their pinnacle, they make some of the greatest wines in the world. Like lumps of coal, great pressure has transformed them into diamonds. Much to my surprise, a similar transformation had taken place at Boisset. Young, energetic Jean-Charles Boisset had concentrated his family firm’s holding’s into the newly formed Domaine de la Vougerie and underscored the decision to move from quantity to quality by hiring famed Burgundy vintner Pascal Marchand to oversee the operations and improve the quality of Boisset’s wines. Hiring Marchand was a brilliant move. Still only forty, Marchand arrived in Burgundy in the early eighties from his native Montreal and soon took the reins at the historic Come Armand estate. Within a few years, Armand’s Pommard Clos des Epenaux was at the apex of Burgundy and Marchand was recognized as a brilliant estate manager and winemaker. He’s now brought this commitment to excellence to Boisset. About one-third of their holdings are now farmed organically, with the remainder tended according to other socially responsible farming practices. He insures that crop yields are kept low and that his wines suffer no abusive filtering practices to rob them of essential flavor components. Not surprisingly, the Vougerie wines have been hailed by critics world-wide. And Boisset is finally synonymous with quality. Will this success in Burgundy translate into world-class Niagara pinot noir and chardonnay? Boisset believes Niagara has similar soil and climactic conditions to Burgundy. While results to date from other producers have not been convincing—lots of thin Ontario pinot noirs clutter LCBO shelves—I’m not betting against the forces behind Le Clos Jordan again. At least until I’ve figured out the best wine for all this crow. Icewines rated Vincor’s local properties are already making some wonderful icewines. Here’s how they and their competitors around Niagara on the Lake stacked up. Prices are in Canadian dollars and are priced per half-bottle (375 ml or about 13 ounces), so even though they seem painfully expensive, they’re really just moderately expensive. While many gourmets might fret over the perfect dessert matching, icewine, like most dessert wine, is dandy on its own. Because it’s so concentrated and sweet, a half-bottle will do just fine for a half-dozen guests. Those noted as “Also tasted” were not my style or otherwise hard to recommend. • Konzelman: 1999 Riesling ($53.95): Zesty lime and orange mixed with tropical fruits and honey. Long finish. I’d drink this. Also tasted: 1998 Vidal ($44.75). • Pilleteri: 2000 Vidal ($34.95): Pleasant apricot and honey aromas and flavors. • Peller Estates: 2000 Riesling ($60): Zippy aromas and flavors of orange peel, pineapple and lemon provide some lift to this creamy, yet delicate wine. Also tasted: 1998 Vidal ($32.95), 2001 Vidal ($18.95). • Hillebrand 2000 Vidal Trius ($44.95): Relatively complex for vidal with oranges, pears, peaches, mangos and lychee. Silky and honeyed. Also tasted: 1997 Vidal Barrel Fermented ($80). • Strewn: 1998 Vidal ($45): Expressive, though not particularly complex. Peaches, apricots and caramel, with a short, chewy finish. 1995 Vidal ($45): Age has smoothed out this wine, leaving apricot, honey and fruit salad aromas and flavors. Hard to believe it was vidal; I would have picked it blind as gewurtztraminer. 2000 Riesling ($68): By far the best of the bunch, with layers of peach, lime and apricot flavors and aromas. Intense and long, a textbook Riesling icewine Also tasted: 2000 Vidal ($45). • Jackson-Triggs (Vincor) 2000 Gewurtztraminer ($62.95): Lychee, apricots and ginger, along with honey and other tropical fruits. A little acid-deficient, but well done. 2000 Riesling ($62.95): Peaches, oranges and tangerine flavors and aromas. Lovely, well-balanced wine. 2000 Cabernet Franc ($___): Sweet aromas and flavors of strawberry, nicely framed by firm acids, leaving an impression of only a semi-dry wine. Long, round finish. Delicious. 2001 Vidal ($45.95): Vidal at its zenith. Utterly convincing flavors and aromas of tropical fruit, apricots and oranges beautifully acidic with a long, silky honeyed finish. Impossible to spit. • Inniskillin (Vincor) 2001 Riesling ($70): Lively, intense lime & peach in a concentrated, vivid package. Sweet, honeyed harmonious finish. 2001 Vidal Oak Aged ($110): A cornucopia of racy, sweet and tart sensations: Apricots, pineapple, ginger, peaches and lemon custard. Vibrant in the mouth, and long on the finish. 2001 Sparkling Vidal ($70): Have I died and gone to heaven? Fine bubbles frame apricot, nectarine and peach flavors. Half way out of the parking lot, I could still taste this; is that long or what? Also tasted: 2001 Cabernet Franc ($90). For complete information on the 7th Annual Niagara Icewine Festival, to be held January 17—26, visit www.grapeandwine.com Mark Criden, the former chair of the Buffalo Branch of the International Wine & Food Society, frequently reviews wine and otherwise haunts Internet wine boards. He is also a private wine cellar consultant. Back to the Table of Contents Back to Top