I’m sure you have read numerous articles about how the world of wine is changing via the Stelvin screwcap bottle closure. The idea is to eradicate the 5-6% of all wines that end up “corked”, a particular wine flaw imparted by natural cork and one you’ll notice immediately if the wine you are about to sip smells like basement or wet cardboard. Australia took the Stelvin closure ball and ran with it within the last eight years or so. New Zealand nearly only uses screw caps now. And even old World producers in Germany, Austria and Switzerland are embracing the concept more and more readily. France and Italy aren’t that far behind, either.

A side note: I find some of the resistance to screwcaps among old world producers entertaining given many of these countries had a hand in testing the new closures back in the ’60′s and ’70s. I appreciate the winemaker’s concern for wines like Bordeaux or Burgundy, which require aging and for which a cork closure is a benefit; but when it comes to wines made for drinking within a year or two, where’s the hold up? Here we have yet another example of the conflict between “science” and “tradition” rearing its ugly head.

I was shocked to hear first-hand this week that a 2007 case of French wine with Stelvin screwcap closures landed in a Massachusetts warehouse – and the wine was corked.

“Corked”, you ask? Indeed. Corked. “But didn’t the guys at Hogue Cellars “prove” to us that was now impossible with use of the Stelvin?” I thought so, too, but apparently there are some exceptions to the rule. The source I heard this report from was there for the big moment of truth. He reported matter of factly, “the wine smelled like wet cardboard”.

I poked around on-line to see if there were any such similar reports. I came up empty. Perhaps no one’s talking about it yet because they don’t want to believe it. Or perhaps this technology is so darn new there’s still room for error and we’re just finding out over the course of things. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not all that alarmed by this revelation. I’m sure we’re looking at cap flaws happening VERY rarely. The thing that’s got me scratching my head is how the flawed wine still had the aroma and taste of a corked wine. To me that’s something uniquely imparted by actual, natural cork, not something that’s manufactured….

Is this news to you, too?

Though it’s raining and 63 degrees here today in Boston, it’s still summer. That means our wine reps are bringing out all the clever white wines they can find to further enhance the shop’s boutique selection of wines – before it gets more permanently chilly and whites lose some of their selling power.

Yesterday I had the opportunity to try Cataratto, an interesting native grape varietal from Sicily, Italy, TWICE. It used to be (and perhaps still is ~ reports vary) the second most planted grape varietal in Italy. Still never heard of it? It also is/was more often used as a blending grape in wines like Marsala, you know the wine you’ve probably at least had once as part of the veal/chicken dish you ordered at your local Italian joint. (We’ll save the longer story on why Marsala has been relegated to cooking status for another wine Wednesday post. Back to the specific wines then…)

The first offering of the day was the La Piazza Catarratto (100% Catarratto), a wine that sees no oak but does undergo some malolactic fermentation. Why do these details matter? When you’re tasting a new (to you) varietal for the first time it is always interesting to find out how it was made to understand how ‘authentic’, if you will, the flavor profile is. Since this 100% offering is fermented in stainless steel tanks, the fruit’s flavors unto themselves are better preserved. No oak nuances would be present in the wine. The malolactic fermentation process however can impart a creamier mouthfeel/texture, which may distract from a full appreciation of Catarratto in its birthday suit. Either way, I must admit I was pleasantly tickled by this wine (and it’s low price). It offered notes of apricots and honey and then also delivered some citrus and light cream (the latter profile likely the result of the malolactic fermentation it underwent). It wasn’t hugely layered with flavor, but for an everyday Italian white wine, this wasn’t bad at all. A solid first impression was had.

Later in the day another rep strangely/ironically came by with a Catarratto/Grillo blend, made by Ajello and under the name Majus. Very cool once again. Grillo is also a native grape to Sicily (translates to cricket) often blended into Marsala. But it is becoming more and more known in the US as one of the best whites from the region on offer. It typically brings flowers and citrus to the table, with some tropical fruits and spice, too. It’s a great match for fish dishes (think Mediterranean culture of the island). The blend of the two grapes was quite a delicious result! It had some umph to it, too. (I’ll have to keep my eye out for another ‘straight up’ Catarratto sans malolactic fermentation, sans oak treatment, to see if that extra umph is something the varietal brings all on its own.)

Have you crossed paths with Catarratto? What’s your take on it?

Whenever I’ve traveled to wine country I’ve noticed a plethora of dogs hanging out in/around the winery. I didn’t think too much about it, figuring pets/animals and rural areas go hand in hand. It always seemed like a great opportunity to ensure a ‘friend’ was always nearby and an astute property “scout” was happy to help keep an eye on things. I’ve also been noticing how many pooches appear on labels. A great marketing ploy, I always thought, but it never occurred to me that there might be something more to it.

This weekend I was preparing for a private wine tasting party I have coming up. I always like to find out interesting little “fun facts” about the wines I’m introducing; this supplements the more traditional wine information I impart on my clients’ guests, too, and helps make a particular wine memorable in another way. I soon discovered that there is a specific reason they use a dog on the Yalumba Y-Series Shiraz/Viognier label. It symbolizes the necessary and fabulous “mateship” between winemakers and growers. Without the other, they wouldn’t have anything to cheers to, if you know what I mean.

That one piece of information prompted me to make a more meaningful connection between vineyards and their pooches. I did a little digging to see if there was something more to having dogs around the property and couldn’t resist sharing today what I learned.

In California they recently started training golden retrievers to sniff out a troublesome little bug: vine mealy bugs. The bug is new-ish to California and is creating quite a stir. Perhaps not of the same destruction caliber as phylloxera, this little guy is still no fun. When he eats he excretes a sugary, “honeydew” substance that becomes a happy stomping ground for sooty mold. Imagine a grape cluster infested with the honeydew, mold, egg sacs and more mealy bugs and – yep – you’re pretty grossed out, not to mention the grapes are completely unusable in wine production and the vines are seriously compromised.

An article on Land of Pure Gold describes just how helpful trained retrievers can be in reducing the impact of these pests. Tim Tesconi writes, if a dog identifies a vine as being infested it can be removed or treated with insecticides. Pinpointing infested vines allows growers to spray specific sites rather than the whole vineyard, which is not only less costly but better for the environment. Cheers to environmentally friendly! Cheers to on-going wine production!

There’s plenty more out there on dogs in the vineyards, too. Take a look at some of the cute faces captured at Winery Dogs. As for me, I know what my next toast will be: to the pooches!

What other vineyard dog fun facts have you come across or experienced first hand?

What is surprising to me is that wine traditions are so often seen as antithetical to science, wrote known wine blogger and enthusiast Dr. Debs of Good Wine Under $20 earlier this week.

I have to say, I quite agree.

Dr. Debs was reporting on her experience at Taste 3, a Mondavi creation now in its third year. The idea is to bring together great minds from across industries and throughout the world to explore the interrelationship between art, food and wine. From what I gather (and please edit me if I’m wrong), each year they pick one larger, umbrella theme and then break the conference into mini-sessions to discuss this from different angles and offer multiple perspectives. Debs argued four main themes emerged at this year’s conference: tradition, science, sustainability and activism. What struck me about her report was the dichotomy between tradition and science, something we often grapple with no matter what walk of life we come from or what specific context is the focus.

With Deb’s note that sustainability was also on the table at Taste 3, let’s briefly consider the practice of biodynamic farming/winemaking given the tradition/science debate. These folks spend a lot of time applying their natural, soil science formulas to their vines, working their land in concert with the cycles of the moon, etc. with their end game to create a self-sustaining system where the land gives back what it receives (in theory, great freaking wine). Some suggest this approach began in the 1920s. My suspicion is it started a hell of a lot earlier than that; it wasn’t until someone (Rudolf Steiner) started talking about it that it became a “known” entity, or a “real” practice. I respect the philosophy behind the practice and admire the additional dedication it takes to apply these practices to the art/science of wine. Whatever Higher Being you may/not believe in, biodynamics requires Faith, or a firm belief in something for which there is no proof.* And I believe faith, at its core, is the original, most basic human tradition.

* How can I say there is “no proof” that these wines are “better” than their counterparts? There’s too much that goes into winemaking for anyone part of the equation to be wholly responsible for the quality of the result.

I struggle to see why an ‘either or’ is constantly demanded during any such debate considering the past and the future. It is the marriage of the two that, for me, strikes the most relevant balance: where we are today. Do I believe in tradition when it comes to wine making? Absolutely. Do I believe in applying new techniques? Absolutely.

What’s your perspective on tradition vs. science when it comes to wine?