We came across this wine at a social event then started serving it to guests.
Instead of a review, because review wise we don’t have much to say, here’s our alternative take: People love it. We’ve served it to guests umpteen times. It never seems to disappoint. It’s a remarkably affordable bottle, you don’t feel guilty opening a second or third at a dinner party. We have it by the two or three just in case.
OK, I’ve never read a splashy review and don’t know its points and of course it doesn’t compare with kingpin Pinot from Oregon or Burgundy. It’s very light, it’s smooth, it’s definitely not our go-to, it’s not our sort of wine really, but here’s the rub: It’s social. And a drinkable bottle of inexpensive wine is, in a social setting, worth three Ridge Zinfandels.
Most people socializing over a glass of wine are not holding a grudge against the bottle. They didn’t come to visit to judge the label or the vintage. They want something palatable, that doesn’t overpower dinner and doesn’t assert itself so demonstrably as to take away from actually being social. And this easy going red does the trick. So thumbs up. Who would of thunk it with 8% inflation?
First tasted with duck in a fine restaurant in early December and it sang. Not Ethel Merman belting it out, more like Elvis on Are You Lonesome Tonight?, just in sympathy with the food, red currants and pungent acidity and nothing declarative. It didn’t attack the food, or make any demands. Note to self: get some of this in the cellar.
A few weeks later we picked up two bottles at Marquis. And this is where I wondered what happened to that gorgeous food wine symbiosis? It sipped gently and enjoyably, we thought a decent red, no qualms, there is (as per the label) a kinship with the French much more than most of the BC Okanagan, where assertive and even testy Pinot Noir leads the pack. But it didn’t meld with any number of foods, from mild cheese to poultry to stew.
Organically farmed, so there is that…
Price: $34 which, as the BC Pinot Noir market goes, is thoroughly decent.
Market Liquidity: You will drink it and enjoy it but it might not impress.
This is an easy-off flip cap and easy on the pocket-book super effervescent, no buoyantly effervescent sweet—but not too sweet, not cloyingly sweet—decently fruity if in a faux fruit sort of fashion, bubble gum fruit flavour, perfectly sippable patio style (not so much celebratory style) lively and colourful as in literally colourful Okanagan fizzy that for the product has an exceptionally long finish like this overwritten sentence.
From our most recent mixed case, we busted out a bottle of the PN as a tester. OOF, what a punchy pop; no pointster is going to review this as “tight”. Super pronounced, sharp and peppery on the first sip, gobs of nuanced berry, cedar shavings and a soft, long, long finish. It was satisfaction at first sip.
Of note, though, is we decanted, and with air some of that punch was diminished, not in a good way. Which, I should point out, did not take away from our overall enjoyment, it was just surprising how some of the bulk and body of the bottle seemed to evaporate in pretty quick order.
We received our annual case from the vineyard and thought we should “finish up” last year’s remnants to avoid any confusion (!).
Of two bottles in a mixed case we had the first last December. Our review, here, was of a take it or leave it nature, unimpressed and let down. So, on first sip of this second bottle, nearly a year later, much of the same, nonplussed. Pretty ho-hum.
But, sip after sip, this wine popped. Big time. I was resentful on the last half glass, resentful the bottle was empty I mean. And, I was pissed off at our December post last year; we drank it too soon.
Woodsy and herbaceous, some spicy cinnamon, juicy gobs of cherry, time and air bringing to life a really evocative PN. The filbert finish a touching denouement on a classic Okanagan PN. Not a whiff of the coconut we made note of on the previous bottle. Time and air, Hugh Johnson has waxed poetic on how time and air can alter wine. Amazing.
Price: $35 from the vineyard in 2019.
Market Liquidity: A series of fortunate events sips.
Have you ever read a professional review where they say the wine has “tension”? That’s this red.
We wanted to jump up and down: A red from Volnay under $50 in BC? Shurely shome mishtake?
For us, it didn’t shine. It was good Pinot. The “delicate violet flower” was too delicate to last; it dissipated. The “saffron notes” were, well, you know, not everyone likes saffron. OK, the fruit was there, the fruit was there. Yes, it was reasonably complex and interesting on the palate, but also ever so slightly bitter. And the tension, the wine just seemed wound up, unrelenting. Pinot, red Burgundy Pinot, the best of it floats, it’s mysterious and ethereal. This had something of a thud.
Price: Marked down from $45 to $37. So a score, if you will.
Market Liquidity: Too plebe for the high rollers, too generic for those on a splurge.
It opens up beautifully. But it opens up slowly. There is definitely a matrooshka doll onion skin Pandora’s box motif going on. It’s beauty does not give it the full marks the vintner and pointsters do: it is a tad thin and not nearly as eloquent as other PNs in this price range, and of course BM (not to be confused with BS) likes to amp up the price. Stick to their under-valued and reasonably priced lovely Pinot Gris…
Time was, when we swore by BM PN, buying it by the case; the “regular” and reserve. Then it went over $30. Then it went over $35. Then it went over $40. Now we can rest our case, so to speak.
Price: Gifted, how wonderful is that, but $40 at the vineyard and a yardstick more at private wine stores in YVR.
Market Liquidity: A bit too much clique and not enough populism.
By way of extension from yesterday’s post on Burrowing Owl Pinot Noir, we did a quick compare with an Oregon bottle, sort of a standard-bearer here on the West Coast when it comes to PN. It was silky, smooth, approachable, balletic in its lightness and deftly textured with berries and the thinnest whiff of cedar. But it was also pale and thin and sipped well but died an inglorious death with dinner (a simple vegetarian bean casserole with parmesan and fennel).
This is the sort of wine you could sip all afternoon and not know you’re sipping wine. Which is a compliment. A bit of a back-handed compliment, but judgy-ness aside, it’s someone’s cup of tea. Maybe not our, but someone’s. I’m not big on embroidery, but I know it takes skill…
Generally, the Oregon PN is just too dear as a day to day, although BCL put this one up with a substantial discount, and it was well worth the price, comparatively.
Price: $29, but regularly $37. That’s total value in the BC market.
Uh-oh. That was my note on the first bottle. Notes. Sum total. Uh-oh. So we didn’t post. I just couldn’t wrap my head around this.
But, as is our wont, we got around to a second bottle and gave it some thought and I guess it’s more of a what’s up BO than yikes. This is definitely not the PN you expect, there is no more Burgundy in this bottle than there is butter in Parkay. The nose is a tad astringent but the mouth is weirdly and wildly tropical, the coconut overpowers, and the fruit is pineapple and kiwi, not a berry to be found. It really defied expectation and I’m not sure in a good or bad way. To be clear, it’s enormously palatable, but line it up with some heavyweight Pinot and you’d be hard pressed to guess the varietal on a blind test.
Price: $35 at the vineyard.
Market Liquidity: Sisters are Burrowing Owl is doing it for themselves.
A mostly Pinot Gris with a Jamie Oliver sized dab of Gewürztraminer, this is astonishingly good value. In BC, the sparklers generally go, in this order, bats piss to Prosecco to Australian and European bubbles to OVERPRICED BC faux-champers then onto the real McCoy. And here, in a lovely pocket to compete with Cava, is a drinkable and exceptionally food friendly bubbly.
There are flaws, I mean let’s be clear. The bubbles are madcap; they are Seth Rogen laughing at a Between Two Ferns episode with Whoopi Goldberg storming off The View: they fly in all directions, too many, too fast, and explode on the palate like Pop Rocks. The finish is not long enough and attractive with no staying power. But then let’s take a breath and review: Two bottles of this or one of Stellar’s Jay? I mean let’s be social, go two. A sort of minor revelation and a great way to liven up some tapas.
Price: $20 at the vineyard, hard to find in general.
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