Once upon a time, Chardonnay was a playground teeter-totter. It tipped between the prime fruits of an old world style and the heavy butter of California fashion, then between oak and stainless.
As has been mentioned before, winemakers now are more willing to stomp down and force the ride to a stop somewhere in between.
Five years ago, Shed Horn winemaker Michael Wood began trimming exposure to oak down. He also began playing with the percentage of new and neutral barrels — each year a rehearsal, thanks to the inconstancy of vintage and gullibility of the varietal. Chardonnay, after all, is easily manipulated by terroir, fermentation practice and vessel.
For the 2015 Shed Horn Chardonnay, Wood decided upon 70 percent oak — most of it neutral — with the rest clad in stainless steel. The result is a neatly balanced wine, treading confidently on a line between blissful fruits and lolling cream then coaxing both along the way.
On the nose it first offers a festive note of ripe apricot and freshly sliced pineapple, the bright reflection of stainless steel and Lake County sunshine. Slipping under this radiant disposition, a rich yet sharp note sounds — something akin to vanilla scented balsamic that tells of time in wood.
But there’s another impression, one warm, inviting and a little unexpected: a waft of toasted sourdough.
Quite likely Wood allowed the wine to rest on its lees for an extended period. He certainly started fermentation in stainless steel — this is how he checks the course set by terroir and growing season — before letting malolactic fermentation to do its work in the barrel.
It’s a complicated process, but it creates a uniquely nuanced Chardonnay.
“A lot of people went 100 percent the other way,” Wood said, referring to the rush toward all stainless from full wood. “Now people are trying to do something in between. We didn’t want to overpower it with oak.”
There is enough oak to lend a creamy feel to the wine. Yet it is also cleaved with fresh fruit.
The calm of peach and drying apricot attempt to placate the tropical thrill of fresh pineapple as the wine flows over your palate. This brief tussle settles into an even tempered sensation of ripe flavors — rich and light at the same time.
Wood’s treatment of the Chardonnay gives it an opulence. Beneath the brisk fruits one settles into buttered toast sprinkled with vanilla, or perhaps a brulee singed at the table so the caramelized impression embraces you.
It’s a comfortable wine, yet one full of implications, essences and shades.
“It’s got some neat things going on,” Wood agreed.
Yes — and Chardonnays like Shed Horn’s 2015 will make you glad to live in a time when winemakers stopped the teeter-totter at points in between ground and sky.
Dave Faries can be reached at 900-2016
