Of all Pinot Noir wines, Oregon Pinots might be the most prototypical “new world” examples of the grape. The earthiness — even skunkiness — of French Burgundies is absent in most Oregon Pinots, at least at reasonable price levels. The fruit takes center stage here, not the terroir.

Willamette Valley Vineyards’ newly released 2006 Pinot Noir is a perfect example of the new world wine, bursting wih juicy fruit, raspberry and cherry flavors overloading your palate. In a good way. You’ll get a hint of spice in the finish and a bit in the nose. Cloves, I think. It all comes together exceptionally well to create an easily drinkable, yet genuinely interesting, bottle of wine. Can’t wait to try their other bottlings.

P.S. Wanna be super-cool? Impress your friends by pronouncing it right: Wi-LAMM-it.

A- / $20 / willamettevalleyvineyards.com

My expectations for a $10 Zin don’t exactly run high, but Clos du Bois’s latest is just fine for a weekday quaff. It overwhelms with berry aromas the minute you open the bottle, cherry and raspberry filling the room. There’s less to impress when you drink it: It goes down easy but there’s nothing complex in the glass, just jammy fruit that borders on being too juicy. Amazingly, though Clos sent this bottle only a few months ago, its 2005 vintages have already hit the market. Serves me right for not hopping on it earlier.

B / $10 / closdubois.com

Hit another tasting event this week (check out September 2007’s report here). My notes are less copious this month; the wines were good on the whole, but nothing knocked me off my feet. Here are some thoughts on what was especially interesting over the course of the evening.

Nothing of exceptional note among the whites, especially since the 1994 Montrachet was being held back, pronounced corked. But there was plenty of good stuff among the Burgundies being served. A 1990 Jayer-Gilles Nuits St. Georges was a classic example of Burgundy, the kind of thing you could drink all night with a thick lamb chop. Domaine Dujac’s Chambolle Musigny, 2001, was also outstanding, though of course much younger. Also enjoyed the 1999 Mugneret Echezeaux, but it was much meatier in style than the Dujac.

Two full tables of Bordeaux tonight, with good and, well, less good on display. Two 1970s were feeling tired and old, but the 1970 Lynch Bages proved that even this unheralded year could put out some solid wines. Ditto the ‘78 Cheval Blanc. Generally considered a middling year at best, this was a rich and very drinkable vintage. No less than four wines from the heralded 1982 vintage were poured, with both Palmer and Montrose standing out as the highlights. Some patrons were declaring the Ducru Beaucaillou to be corked, but I found it completely drinkable, though far from the best wine on the table. The 1990 Gruaud Larose, also from a fantastic year, didn’t disappoint.

Best luck was had in Italy, with both 1988 Gaja and 1997 Sassicaia proving why these are cult wines of the region. The Gaja was perfectly aged, mixing wood, fruit, and charcoal into an exceptional drink. Both a 1999 Nebbiolo and 1997 Barbera were fine Piedmont vintages, too.

On to California, where I found the 1975 Heitz Martha’s Vineyard a severe disappointment, long since past its prime and, possibly, corked. Wonderful to get to put two Opus One vintages head to head: The 1996 easily outpaced the 2001, which was just way too tight for easy drinking yet. Best of the lot: Grace Family’s 1994 Vineyard 29 Cab, a “just right” California Cabernet that I could have drank all night.

Complete ratings follow, broken up by table:

1993 Chassagne Montrachet, Les Vergers, Ramonet - B
1994 Montrachet, Sauzet - didn’t try, corked
2000 Chassagne Montrachet, Les Champs Gains, M. Niellon - A-
2001 Peter Michael Chardonnay, Mon Plaisir - B+
1996 Gewurztraminer, Mambourg, VT, Tempe - A-

1983 Clos des Lambrays, Domaine du Clos des Lambrays - B-
1990 Nuits St. Georges, Les Prulieres, R. Chevillon - B+
1990 Nuits St. Georges, Les Hauts Poirets, Jayer-Gilles - A-
1995 Bonnes Mares, J.F. Mugnier - A-
2001 Chambolle Musigny, Dujac - A
1999 Echezeaux, D. Mugneret - A
1999 Marcassin Pinot Noir, Blue Ridge - didn’t try, empty when I got there

1970 Chateau Nenin, Pomerol - B
1970 Chateau Leoville Las Cases, St. Julien - B
1970 Chateau Lynch Bages, Pauillac - A
1978 Chateau Cheval Blanc, St. Emilion - A
1982 Chateau Gloria, St. Julien - B
1982 Chateau Palmer, Margaux - A-

1982 Chateau Ducru Beaucaillou, St. Estephe - B+
1982 Chateau Montrose, St. Estephe - A-
1983 Chateau Cos d’Estournel, St. Estephe - A-
1983 Chateau Grand Puy Lacoste, Pauillac - A-
1983 Chateau Mouton Rothschild, Pauillac - A-
1990 Chateau Gruaud Larose, St. Julien - A
1994 Chateau Leoville Las Cases, St. Julien - B+

1997 Barbera d’Asti, Braida Ai Suma, G. Bologna - A-
1997 Tignanello, Antinori - B
1997 Sassicaia, Tenuta San Guido - A
1999 Nebbiolo d’Alba, B. Giacosa - A-
1998 Barolo, Sperss, Gaja - A
1996 Sardon Del Duero, Cuvee el Campanario, Abadia Retuerta - B+

1975 Heitz Cellars Cabernet Sauvignon, Martha’s Vineyard - C-
1991 Chateau Montelena Cabernet Sauvignon, Estate - B+
1994 Vineyard 29 Cabernet Sauvignon, Grace Family Vineyard - A
2000 Colgin Cabernet Sauvignon, Herb Lamb Vineyard - B+
1996 Opus One - A-
2001 Opus One - B+
2002 Colgin Syrah IX Estate - A-

If you’ve dismissed Spanish wines until now, you might be in for a surprise. You’ll be hard-pressed to find an easier drinking wine, from Spain or anywhere else, than Viñedos de Aldeanueva’s Cortijo Crianza (aka Cortijo II Crianza; the II refers to, well, I’m not sure exactly what, but I think it has something to do with Aldeanueva’s vineyard holdings).

The Crianza (as I will be calling it) is 100% Tempranillo, as much Rioja is, but has the character of a beefy, young Cabernet.

There’s subtle spice and dusty earth here, but none of it dims the hearty fruit core on the Crianza, a plum and berry monster that goes down easy but doesn’t overpower on its own or with food (I had it with a Spanish rice and chicken dish).

Crianza isn’t overly complex, but at $14 a bottle, you wouldn’t expect it to be, either. Compared to a $14 California Cab, I’ll take the Rioja any day of the week.
A- / $14 / oleimports.com

The idea for this cocktail came to me out of the blue. It’s indeed quite delicious.

The St. Ignatius
1 oz. St. Germain liqueur
1 oz. white dessert wine (Sauternes, Tokaji, Moscato, or premium American botrytis-affected wine like Violetta)

Shake with ice and strain into a coupe.

I actually used Donnafugata’s Passito di Pantelleria Ben Ryé dessert wine (made from dried Zibibbo grapes) here. It tastes a lot like Tokaji and blended splendidly with the St. Germain. You can read about Donnafugata’s red wine here. The wine ($38 for 375ml), incidentally, is great on is own as well.

The drink is the best of both worlds, and it works as both an aperitif and digestif. As for St. Ignatius, he was the founder of the Jesuits, and the man has nothing at all to do with this drink.

I should have written this up a month ago, when the 2007 Beaujolais Nouveaus first hit the market, but time got away from me… plus, there are still plenty of Beaujolais Nouveau wines available, including this one from Henry Fessy.

For those not familiar with Beaujolais Nouveau, this is a young wine from the Burgundy region in France, made with the Gamay grape and meant to be consumed before the year of release is up. If you’re drinking 2007 Beaujolais Nouveau in 2008, it’s past its prime.

The best Beaujolais is Beaujolais-Villages (clearly noted on the label), and you’ll pay a slight premium for it: $15 or so for a B-V vs. about $10 for a straight, blended Beaujolais. And Henry Fessy’s entry into 2007 is a fine one, considerably less “jammy” than standard-grade Beaujolais and bearing at least a slight bit of complexity (though that’s hardly the hallmark of the party-friendly Beaujolais).

Cut through the plummy, red-fruit core and you’ll find lots of herbs — surprising, really — under the surface. They’re hard to place, but I’d go rosemary, perhaps thyme. The combination is a delight, and the Fessy is very easy-drinking. I even paired it with lamb chops and roasted red peppers, and the match was fine.

Get some now. You’ve got two weeks left.

A- / $15 / vins-henry-fessy.com

I’d wager you’re unfamiliar with any of the terms in the name of the wine in this review… and to be honest I had to look up the Madiran region on a map myself. Here’s what you need to know:

Madiran is a tiny spot of land in southwest France (you’ll sometimes see these wines listed on a wine list as “Sud-Ouest”), jutting up against the Pyrenees mountains which separate France from Spain. Madiran wines have much in common with Spanish wines, in fact. More than with most French wines, anyway.

Plaimont produces this Madiran wine like many others: Predominantly the Tannat grape (80%) and the rest Cabernet Sauvignon. You probably don’t know Tannat at all: The only other place it’s popular aside from Madiran is Uruguay.

As the name suggests, Tannat is very high in tannins, and five years after harvest, Plénitude is still packing quite a punch. The aroma of smoke and wood are overpowering at first, and the wine is so dense it’s tough to drink beyond a few short sips. But in the glass it mellows with a little time: After half an hour that Cabernet makes itself known and the smokiness vanishe, leaving you with a fruit-packed core that, though tight, is a perfect wine for drinking solo or with hearty foods.

Plaimont is working to promote this wine and other Madiran bottlings as especially heart-healthy (here’s some video on the topic as to why). I don’t know if drinking Plénitude will really help you live longer, but it sure tastes good either way.

A- / about $35 / plaimont.com

I came to this Rhone-style blend with no real expectations. I don’t even know where the bottle came from. Color me surprised. Just sitting in the glass, three feet away, it fills the air around you with heavenly berry scents, cherry, raspberry, a precious hint of spice, and lush fruit.

Blended from 44% Grenache, 40% Syrah, 11% Cinsault, and 5% Counoise, this lively blend is perfect on its own and works well with lighter foods. I can’t imagine a better pizza wine. It’s silky and ultra-fruity, even though it hasn’t even been out of the cask for a year.

It’s not as “spicy” as traditional Rhone-style wines, but that’s not really a complaint. Some Rhones can be overly peppery, which makes them better with food and somewhat less pleasant on their own. I’m more than a little surprised a wine For $18, it’s a great deal, too.

A- / $18 / roberthallwinery.com

Hey, Chianti isn’t the only Italian wine out there, folks. Give Travaglini’s Gattinara a try. Even if you don’t like it, you’ll enjoy talking about the bottle, I promise.

This wine is from Gattinara in Italy’s Piedmont region and is 100% Nebbiolo, the critical grape in Barolo wines. As with Barolo, Gattinara can be big and tannic, full of spice that overpowers the cherry fruit below. But Travalini’s Gattinara is considerably softer, noticeably lacking the crushing earthiness that big Barolos and Barbarescos can exhibit.

I’ve had numerous vintages of Travaglini Gattinara in the past, rating the 1996 vintage an A- and 2000 a solid A. The 2001 is still good, but not a knockout like 2000. The herbal notes here are just too much, relegating the fruit core to an afterthought, when it really ought to be the other way around.

Oh, and about that funky bottle. It’s not just to be unique, it’s so that sediment stays trapped on that steep slope instead of pouring into the glass. Pretty nifty, huh? And now you have some cocktail party conversation fodder.

B+ / $25 / travaglinigattinara.it

Sebastiani is a big, big winery. I can’t even go to their tasting room any more because of the overpowering antiseptic smell in there the last time I went. You try tasting wine when all you can smell is Clorox and Lysol. Doesn’t work.

My dad (a huuuuge Sebastiani fanatic) gave me a bottle of the 2004 Alexander Valley Cabernet from this vintner, and I gave it a shot, away from the medicinal confines of the company’s tasting room. Not bad. And very much characteristic of the Alexander Valley region (in the northeast part of Sonoma County): A silky wine with almost overpowering currant flavor and aroma. When people say “fruit forward,” this is what they mean. It isn’t harsh, it’s almost juicy. And while you can get mineral and earth hints in the aftertaste, the flavor profile is overpoweringly currant, typical of Cab and inherent to Alexander Valley.

Alexander Valley Cabs are known for young drinking, but I’d prefer to have another couple years on this wine to give it a little more depth and to let those tertiary flavors integrate a little with the rest of the wine. I don’t know how much good it’ll do, though.

On its website, Sebastiani says this wine is reminiscent of a “2000 Haut Medoc,” that “it leans more towards a Bordeaux-style than a California-style Cab.” Now that is crazy talk if I’ve ever heard it. This wine is about as close to Bordeaux as it is to cranberry juice; it’s California Cab all the way, unquestionably. Must be all the Clorox over there.

A- / $30 / sebastiani.com