What you know — or rather what you assume — will trip you up.
It really doesn’t matter that your pre-judgement is based upon decades of consumption. The prevalence of White Zinfandel drawing novices to the wine racks, the dainty pink wines fit perhaps for spritzers — these have lured you into a trap.
The 2014 High Valley Vineyard Rose from Shannon Ridge is not a kindly, delicate wine, no matter what you might think watching it loll charmingly in the glass.
On the nose it risks the parched precipice of a forgotten quarry. Hints of stone and musty earth ascends from the glass, weighted by the dense fruit of cherry skin, withering and gaining savor under the sun. From somewhere below in the depths of the rugged vale, a bittersweet snap of citrus reaches you, akin to parched zest and blistering blood orange.
This is hardly a sanguine wine.
“I’m a big fan of dry Roses,” explained Shannon Ridge winemaker Joy Merrilees.
A sip serves as evidence of her passion. The wine nips at your palate, as dried cranberries and cherry pomace recoil before your grasp, drawing you into a narrow space. Despite the intense scrutiny of the fruit, a ripple of dusty spice edges forward, bolstered by sunbaked earth.
It’s a neat balance — rich fruit stripped of its sweet soul, condensed into a sheath and then offered a ceremonious role, sparked by shimmering cinnamon and white pepper.
The wine is prepared from Cabernet Sauvignon plucked from a lofty vineyard on the Shannon Ridge estate near Lower Lake. Merrilees and her crew blended in a little Sauvignon Blanc — a kindred wine to tame the darker fruits and brighten the color.
Otherwise, she left the wine alone.
“White wine yeast and fermented cold — that’s pretty much it,” Merrilees said, explaining her approach to the Rose.
There is an appeal to the wine. Instead of sagging with sugar, it provides a lucent sip. While it tempts you into a contemplative discussion, while its deeper flavor set you on an untamed edge, it also swipes through the heat of summer and the dreariness of routine.
You begin to understand Merrilees’ fascination with the dry Rose.
And there’s another reason to appreciate the 2014 High Valley Vineyard Rose. Consider the genre and its often sordid past — dolled up as White Zin, dismissed by those serious about wine as a saccharine gypsy. Only recently have many Americans learned of the nuances possible in a crafted Rose.
“Now there are a lot of good dry ones,” Merrilees observed.
This is a very good one to start with.
Dave Faries can be reached at 900-2016
