Perfectly Flawed: How Savvy Winemakers Turn Pestilence into Excellence
“This wine is corked.”
We’ve all heard someone say this or said it ourselves. In many cases, this is used to describe a wine one finds unpleasant or that is affected by one of several different faults, but sometimes the wine is genuinely (as we say) “cork-tainted.” This specific flaw is particularly tragic, as it is a compound in some natural corks which, when it infiltrates the wine, makes it smell of mildew, wet dog, musty basement, or wet cardboard. Thus, it renders a perfectly good wine instantly and irretrievably undrinkable.
While cork taint is irredeemable, there are many so-called “faults” that can be stylistic choices and will often enhance a wine by making it more complex, interesting, or delicious. Like medications, for many of these faults, the difference between helping and hurting is a matter of degree or timing. The tradition of wine growing and farming, in general, is one of pragmatism, leading to the emergence of wine growing and making practices that incorporate many of these faults to maximize the potential of their fruit.
Botrytis Cinerea. It’s all in the name. This common mold is either referred to as “bunch rot” or “noble rot.” No need to guess which one is hurting and which is helping. Extended periods of humid conditions during fruit formation can cause this grey mold to attack the green bunches. Once the rot takes hold, the whole bunch must be removed to ensure it doesn’t spread. If not managed properly, botrytis can decimate yields and ruin a vintage.
However, when dry conditions follow humidity after the fruit is mostly ripe and has already changed color (veraison), you may find noble rot. If you have ever had your mind blown by a dessert wine, there is a high probability that botrytis contributed to that wine’s greatness. It soaks up moisture and shrivels the grapes, concentrating flavor and imparting a particular tupelo, tangerine blossom, and fresh ginger aromatic profile. Sauternes, Beerenauslese, Tokaji Aszú, and even some still wines like Savennières all owe their intensity and complexity to this sometime scourge.
Brettanomyces. Yeast is everywhere. This fact is great for winemakers because it means they can ferment free of charge. Unfortunately, it’s also a nightmare because a wild yeast colony can have some constituents that are not so friendly to the process. Brettanomyces (“Brett”) refers to a family of the most common problematic wild yeasts. All yeasts impart unique flavors to the wine as they consume sugars in the must. Brett adds some…interesting…ones: barnyard, horse sweat, blood, bandages, iron.
Maybe, at this point, you’re wondering how this can possibly help. Enter Burgundy. Or Northern Rhône. Or Châteauneuf du Pape. Or Bordeaux. I think you get it. This one is always a matter of taste, but for my palate, Syrah from Northern Rhone without Brett will always be missing something. That raw or smoked meat character is just part of the wine when it’s at its best, in my opinion. Red Burgundy with that savory background of barnyard or stable is just what I want. And without the wild and earthy scents woven into so many Bordeaux wines, they become merely monolithic structures stuffed with stern, judgmental fruit and tobacco.
Oxidation. Oxygen, despite making up around 19 percent of our atmosphere, is the nemesis of winemakers during “Élevage,” which describes everything that happens with the wine between completing fermentation and release. Oxygen contact destroys fruit flavors, wreaks havoc on acids, and generally blows everything out of a wine. Winemakers obsess over topping barrels to ensure no oxygen contact and will often blanket the wine with nitrogen or carbon dioxide when moving it around. If you ever tasted the dry vermouth your grandparents had in their liquor cabinet for months, you have a memory of this effect. There’s nothing worse than paying $200 for a white Burgundy in a restaurant only to taste nothing but caramel apple, cider, and alcohol once it hits the glass.
Yet, there are marvels like Sherry, Vin Jaune, Madeira, and Marsala. Madeira and Marsala are purposely oxidized after being fortified with a clear grape spirit to stabilize their acids. This was originally done to help it survive long sea voyages intact. In the case of Sherry (also fortified) and Vin Jaune (unfortified), there is a more subtle and elegant symbiosis happening. These wines are left to rest in barrel sous voile, meaning a dense raft of yeast forms, facilitating a very slow exposure to oxygen and imparting subtle chamomile and raw macadamia flavor to the wines. If you haven’t seriously approached Sherry yet, I recommend exploring it, and Vin Jaune is something everyone should experience in life.
Millerandage. All farmers obsess over the weather, and winegrowers are no different. There are certain times in the life cycle of the grapevine that are particularly stressful. Fruit set is a time when wet, windy, dry weather or hail can pretty much ruin everything. One of the big worries is “Millerandage,” which is uneven fruit set and ripening. For most grape varietals in most places, bunches in which some of the grapes never ripen are completely useless. They lead to “green” or “off” flavors in the wine and unpleasantly aggressive acidity.
However, I am very confident everyone reading this has tasted, and likely thoroughly enjoyed, a wine that owes its excellence to Millerandage. Eighty percent of all Chardonnay vines planted in California are selected from a group of clones called the “Wente” clones, which can be genetically traced to Wente Vineyards in Livermore Valley near San Francisco. The clones that C.H. Wente brought from Burgundy in the early twentieth century are notorious for exhibiting a high occurrence of millerandage regardless of the weather. As a result, wines made from these clones have very ripe, even tropical, fruit flavors yet retain firm, tense acidity. Chardonnays from the best sites in Napa, Sonoma, and Central Coast owe their balance of intensity and tension to this characteristic tendency, so assiduously managed out of other varietals.
For those of us who obsess over wine, these contrasts between total destruction and transcendent beauty separated by a matter of mere time or degree are endlessly fascinating. Hopefully, learning a bit about it helps you appreciate the alchemical, backbreaking, and potentially heart-breaking work that growing and making truly excellent wine is.
And if you want to experience wines affected by these “faults,” I implore you to find your favorite seasoned wine professional and request a tour of “faulty” wines. The results will definitely be memorable.
