zin city
When I received the invitation to Artisan Masters, (an email, of course, nobody bothers with the elegance of letters any longer), I paused. Ordinarily, I discard invitations to events in Northern California, or pass them along to my mother, Ronie Reiley, a sometimes editor for Eat Something Sexy. But this invitation was different. It wasn’t to another Napa Valley affair or a night in Sonoma. It was an invitation to a black tie dinner in Lodi, an oxymoron if I ever heard one!
Now, as a wine journalist, I’ve traveled up and down the state of California through just about every wine region… But I’d never been to Lodi, (unless you could that one time I overshot route 580 and found myself zooming north on the 5 toward Stockton instead of gliding west toward Oakland). But, since my father always told me you can’t count a visit unless you use a restroom, I hadn’t really been to Lodi.
So I rsvp’d YES! to Artisan Masters, hopped in the car and took the road trip to Lodi, picking up mom along the way to be my plus one for the event.
The experience was worth the trip. The event was certainly no slick affair of Hollywood making but it was heartfelt, well-conceived and beautifully executed.I was impressed, (and this wasn’t exactly my first rodeo if you know what I mean).
Artisan Masters was created as a fundraiser for three Lodi arts charities. The basic concept was to pair local, visual arts with Lodi’s famed Zinfandel wines. Fourteen of the region’s most-respected wineries participated first in a barrel sample reception and silent auction then sit-down dinner and live auction.
Standouts for me at the reception were the samples of the 2010 Zins. As a general rule, Lodi Zinfandel is a bit too robust, jammy and high in alcohol for my taste. But because this was such a cool year, the wines are lower in alcohol, more tame and structured than the norm-and I like it! Particularly elegant was the 2010 from Macchia and I look forward to tasting the resulting wine when it is bottled and released.
Each winery hosted one or more table at dinner and I was very fortunate to be seated at the table of David Lucas and The Lucas Winery. Beyond mom and myself, the rest of our table was occupied by the Ledbetter family, whose name I’d known for years although I’d never met a famed Ledbetter face-to-face before. (The Ledbetters are considered leaders in grape growing and produce premium fruit from vineyards across Northern California.)
Lucas uncorked a bottle of his yet-to-be-released 2009 Chardonnay and I could feel apprehension rising in my throat until I saw broad smiles on the faces of the Ledbetter clan. (I’d never had a Chardonnay from Lodi that I found anywhere close to appealing.) Raising the glass to my lips, I was treated to golden nectar with bright but restrained fruit flavors, deliciously biting acid and a lovely, soft mouth feel. Those Ledbetters knew from Chardonnay!
Perhaps I should pause to further explain my apprehension. Lodi is a region known for one grape, plain and simple, and that grape is Zinfandel. The “American grape,” Zinfandel does particularly well in Lodi’s often oppressive summer heat. The region, too far inland to experience the cooling effect of the coast, receives not only baking temperatures but relentless sun during the summer months. This is not a condition traditionally accepted for producing Chardonnay, (usually referred to as a “cool climate grape”). But like with all of California, Lodi has microclimates and between crosswinds, shade and fertile soil, it is possible to produce a Chardonnay if you have some skill at cultivating grapes. But… who knew!
After Chardonnay, we tasted Lucas’ ZinStar vineyard Zinfandel, a wine more like a luscious Pinot Noir than what I think of as Lodi Zin. Made from old vine fruit, the wine is well-balanced with subtle dark berry flavors, a faint gaminess and a sensational texture in the mouth. It couldn’t have been further from what I expected to taste on my visit to Zin City.
As I look back at my comments I realize that I’m beginning to sound like a Zin hater. But in fact, Zinfandel is one of the first red wine varietals I learned to like. Its just that what Zinfandel has become since I started swirling and sipping is something that I often think would be better suited for marinating steak than for serving to my friends. When Zinfandel is bad, it is an overly alcoholic fruit bomb. But when it is made in a region suited to the varietal by people so incredibly skilled with the grape, Zin becomes something as sophisticated as Pinot, robust as Cab and as interesting as it gets. And my little jaunt to Zin City proved to me that perhaps Lodi is the place in which Zinfandel most clearly shines.
