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Carmenere Me Now?

With all apologies to former Deadspin.com editor Will Leitch, there was a moment when we were set on comparing Carmenere with former St. Louis Cardinals pitcher and current St. Louis Cardinals center fielder Rick Ankiel. For those not familiar with Ankiel’s story, we won’t bore you with the details (you can read all about it out here) but suffice to say, it mirrors the story of Carmenere very closely. Ultimately, though, we decided that the fact that Ankiel made
his comeback with the same team that demoted him and not, say, the Royals or the Nationals was too much of a difference between the player and the wine to move forward with it. Plus, not a lot of people know who Rick Ankiel is, and a whole lot of people know who Alec Baldwin and Charlie Sheen are, so that made the choice easier.

Sorry, Rick (and Will). Here’s a small picture as a consolation gift:
But now, onto the story of Carmenere. It used to be big. Really big. One of the six “noble” red grapes allowed in Bordeaux wines big. Just like how Charlie Sheen and Alec Baldwin used to be A-list movie stars who headlined films (Hot Shots! or Heaven’s Prisoners, anyone?). Carmenere wasn’t quite that big; it didn’t command above-the-title status or its own 100% varietal wines just yet, but it did hobnob with other famous grapes like Sheen did with his brother Emilio and the rest of the Brat Pack, and it cozied up to Merlot and Cab like Baldwin did to Kim Basinger.

But then, something happened. Somehow, Carmenere fell out of favor, like Baldwin after 1998’s The Edge or Sheen in 1994 (The Chase, Major League II, and Terminal Velocity? Yikes!). No one is sure why Carmenere suddenly lost all of its charms; local legend has it that after the Phylloxera plight of the 1870s, when every grapevine in France was destroyed, wine growers couldn’t find any healthy Carmenere roots to replant with anywhere, and because the vines themselves were temperamental and hard enough to grow when alive (Carmenere vines often suffered from a condition called coulure, where buds flower too early in the growing season, resulting in a significant loss of berries), they just said why bother. Cab and Merlot were more prestigious and made them more money. Soon after, every single trace of Carmenere was gone from France and by the turn of the century, there wasn’t a single vine or grape of the stuff to be found anywhere.

Okay, not anywhere. Fortunately for the grape (and for us lovers of Forgotten Grapes), a few conniving winemakers from South America inadvertently kept the grape from becoming wholly extinct. Sometime in the mid-1800s, Carmenere rootstock was either imported or smuggled out of Bordeaux, depending on who you listen to, in bundles of more prized Cabernet and Merlot clippings. The roots found their way to the not-exactly-a-hotbed-of-wine nation of Chile where they were planted, and for over century and a half the grapes were cultivated under the assumption that they were just a variant of Merlot, even though this Chilean Merlot mash-up tasted like no other Merlot on the planet. Apparently wine experts just chalked up the taste differences to the inexperience of Chilean winemakers and the different terroir of the Andean backbone. Ha ha ha, silly Chileans. Think they can make wine better than us French/Americans/Australians/insert your own haughty winemaking culture here. It wasn’t until 1994 that French professor of Oenology Jean-Michel Boursiquot determined that some of the Merlot growing in Chile wasn’t Merlot at all but rather the long-thought-gone Carmenere. Four years later, the Chilean government officially recognized Carmenere as its own separate varietal and it’s been thriving ever since.

Today, much like how Alec used “30 Rock” to his advantage and how Charlie made the leap from “Spin City” to “Two and a Half Men” to boost his flagging careers, Carmenere has enjoyed quite a renaissance in Chile. Despite the fact that Cabernet is the most widely-planted grape in the country, Chile has become synonymous with Carmenere, as it is the only country that grows the grape in any volume of note. Small patches of it have recently been planted in the U.S. (in California and near Walla Walla, Washington), Australia, and New Zealand, but all those parcels combined add up to only a mere fraction of the Carmenere grown in Chile. Hell, there’s more than 4000 hectares of the stuff grown in Chile’s Central Valley alone. Carmenere is still considered to be exclusively Chile’s grape, but Chile is still considered to be a second- or even third-tier wine-producing country. You do the math.

Regardless, Carmenere is a wonderful grape to drink, with similarities to Merlot but a depth of color and character and ruggedness that differentiates it from its more noble cousin (though it’s actually more closely related to Cabernet Sauvignon – see below). And here is where the grape and thespian comparisons diverge, because unlike Sheen and Baldwin, Carmenere does not yet have the name recognition or loyal following that those two have. Trust me, there’s not a whole lot of people in this world outside of Chile opening up a bottle of Carmenere every Monday at 9 p.m. or enjoying a glass every Thursday at 9:30. But that’s why Forgotten Grapes is here. Think of us as the wise, kind-hearted network exec willing to take a chance on this once well-known but now downtrodden grape just itching for a comeback. You really ought to take notice and
not get left behind. Set your Drinking DVR now and tune in for all the juicy details
of the truly remarkable comeback story of CARMENERE, the
Alec Baldwin/Charlie Sheen of Forgotten Grapes.

What It Looks Like, What It Smells Like, and What  It Tastes Like

Carmenere looks like:

Carmenere smells like:

Carmenere tastes like:

Fruit. Big fruit. Big red fruit. Red currants. Big hairy red (not blue) raspberries. Definitely some Creme de Cassis in there as well. You might also get some smoke from the nose, which would be perfectly normal, as well as the scents of bittersweet chocolate and maybe even the slightest whiff of pastry dough. That’s right, Carmenere is a big chocolate-covered raspberry and red currant danish just waiting to be bitten into. Doesn’t that sound tasty? Just know that any Carmenere nose should be big. In some instances, Carmeneres even mock the aroma of a Syrah, save for the rugged, dirty barnyard smell that is a hallmark of Syrahs. But Carmeneres are just as big fruit-wise and you’ll definitely smell all that big red fruit as soon as you pull the cork.
Alright, now it’s time to take things down an octave or two. Suddenly those rich red fruits you smelled don’t seem so red anymore. The sun has set, and you’re not in Raspberryland anymore. Now you understand why Carmenere has such a deep, dark color. The fruit is still there but as John Cafferty and Beaver Brown Band once sang, it’s on the dark side, baby. Black currants, blackberries, pomegranate. The dark fruits hit you up front and then evolve into even darker flavors as the wine sits in your mouth: more semi-sweet chocolate (maybe even bordering on one of those 71% cacao bars you find in those chic-chic chocolate boutiques that have popped up in malls recently), tobacco, licorice root. The richness of Carmenere won’t be denied, although there will be one notable thing missing from your mouthful – tannins. Tannins are virtually nonexistent in a Carmenere. As you swallow, you may get no aftertaste, or you may get a strong coffee flavor that will stay with you. That’s the beauty of Carmenere: like a box of espresso-and-tobacco laced chocolates, you never know what you’re going to get, but you’re going to want to come back for more and more again and again.
• As mentioned above, Carmenere (pronounced: car-men-YAIR and not to be confused with Carmel Marks) was one of six red “noble” grapes legally allowed to be included in the famed Medoc wines of Bordeaux (home to Latour and Margaux and Mouton Rothschild and Lafite Rothschild), the other five grapes being Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Cabernet Franc, Malbec, and Petit Verdot. Guess which three of those grapes will be appearing on ForgottenGrapes.com very, very soon. Oddly, despite the fact that Carmenere is a member of the Cabernet family of grapes and was known in Bordeaux under the alias Grand Vidure (Cabernet Sauvignon, on the other hand, was known as just Vidure), it is Merlot that is most often confused with Carmenere, as the vines of the two grapes share many similar traits and the wines have somewhat similar, though not identical, flavors.
 
 • Despite the fact that Chile is still considered a secondary wine region by many casual wine drinkers and wine snobs alike, the country has a pedigree for winemaking that traces back nearly 500 years. Spanish conquistadors first brought vines and wine grapes to Chile in the 16th century, though the country didn’t get serious about its winemaking until the mid-1800s, when wealthy landowners decided to get into the business and “imported” vine stock from France. Ironically, the Phylloxera epidemic in Europe ended up being a blessing in disguise for the burgeoning Chilean wine development, as these same landowners were able to coax French winemakers across the Atlantic under the guise that they had vines undamaged by the louse still producing fruit. And yet, up until the late 20th century, the most widely planted grape in Chile was a grape called Pais, which produces thin-bodied brownish juice and is used primarily to make cheap jug wines in the country. Which makes little to no sense, because blessed with a Mediterranean climate halfway between California’s and France’s, some viticulturists have referred to northern Chile (where the best Chilean wines come from) as the perfect territory for wine cultivation, with its mild temperatures, low amounts of rainfall, minor risk of spring frost, and harsh, rocky soil surrounding lush, green valleys.

It has only been recently that Chile has seen a major boom in its wine production and exportation, events not coincidentally linked with the “discovery” and embrace of Carmenere and with Pais finally being displaced by Cabernet Sauvignon as the most planted grape in the country.  Currently twenty different varietals are grown in Chile,
and from 1995 to 2005, the number of wineries in Chile skyrocketed from 12 to 70.
Chile is currently the fourth-largest exporter of wine to the United States, trailing
France and Italy and only recently being surpassed by Australia.   

Fun Facts to Impress/Bore People At Parties

From Brein’s Brain to Your Plate

 

 

This first pairing recommendation comes not from Brein but from Roryann Clements, Brein’s wife, tasting squadron member, and accomplished chef in her own right. She’s even opening up her own catering business. If you’re looking for an awesome, creative, affordable caterer in the Southern California area, shoot us an e-mail and we’ll pass her info onto you. Anyway, Rory’s recommendation with a Carmenere was big basket of Easter candy, and we couldn’t agree more, especially considering that we tasted our Carmeneres around Easter and just happened to have a big basket of chocolate and candy lying around. So we tried it out and believe it or not, the pairing went together smashingly. Thanks, Rory. Maybe we’re taking tips from the wrong family member...

Okay, back to Brein: “Now Camenere is interesting because it’s kind of a tweener wine. It’s too big for chicken, but it’s not big enough for beef or lamb or other heavier meats. It may have the acid but it just doesn’t have the tannic backbone to stand up to those meats. So one really terrific pairing with Carmenere would be heavy tapas. A big variety, too, like some really good oily salty grilled boquerones [anchovies], patatas bravas with a really spicy, tomato-y sauce, some tasty veal Merguez sausages made with lots of paprika, and paella. Carmenere is going to be dynamite with paella. All of those different flavors – the spicy, the oily, the meaty, the salty, the tomato-y, the mellowness of the rice, saffron and seafood, it’s all going to present a really nice front for the darker berry flavors of Carmenere to cut through. So yeah, go Spanish with a Carmenere and see what happens. I think you’ll be pleased.”

“Okay, so Carmenere used to part of the Big Six red grapes of Bordeaux, and it’s softer and less tannic than those other wines but with big fruit. And when you think of French red wines like that, there’s really only one meat that comes to mind: duck. Such a classic French ingredient, but also something that can be transformed and dressed up in a lot of different ways. And since Carmenere kind of fell out of favor in France and discovered new life down in South America, we’re going to do duck in two different ways, one for each location. So the typical French duck preparation would be to roast it, and what I’d do is roast the breast with just some butter and herbs and then serve it with some sauteed spring onions and a cocoa-based sauce. It’s kind of a weird meal, with ingredients covering three of the four seasons, but it will all meld together really well and each different flavor will balance the Carmenere nicely. The other preparation? Duck tacos. Grilled sliced duck breast medium rare, nice and fatty but juicy and not too dry, some corn tortillas, a little mango salsa in there, some cilantro...
That’s going to work like a mother. Arriba!”

Chef Brein Clements is the chef/owner of Restaurant Omakase in Riverside, CA, which is quickly becoming SoCal’s answer to El Bulli. Minus the molecular gastronomy. He began his cooking career at Domaine Chandon in the Napa Valley and moved on to become Chef de Cuisine at the famed Balboa Bay Club before opening his own restaurant. Plus he’s only 27. My man knows his wine and he knows his food. Each week he’ll provide ingredient and dish recommendations that match up well with the week’s forgotten grape. You should heed what he says. No, seriously, heed it.

 

Go On. Try It. You’ll Like It.

2007 Concha Y Toro “Casillero del Diablo” Reserve Carmenere

All three recommended wines this week are from Chile, which means you’re going to get great bang for your buck with these wines. Starting with this outstanding number, which can become your everyday drinking wine since a bottle of it usually runs in the single digits dollar-wise. Lots of bright red fruit – raspberries and strawberries – on the nose Xerox themselves at the beginning of the sip before giving way to a very dark, very dry coffee/semisweet chocolate flavor. It’s rich and delicious and our Friends at Liquorama have it available on the cheap, so throw out your Merlot, grab a case, and enjoy this on a regular basis.

2005 Anakena Single Vineyard Carmenere

All you need to know is that my tasting notes say, “My God! That’s a big wine.” Darker and spicier than the other Carmeneres we tasted, you’re going to get a lot of pepper on the nose of this wine. The bouquet actually started out ruggedly like an ersatz Syrah before transforming into a dark chocolate/cacao aroma. The taste was like a big mouthful of chocolate, if someone had dropped a ton of pomegranate fruit into the bowl. Very, very dry and not much going on in the way of tannins. This is NOT an everyday sipping wine; this is a wine that needs to be paired with food to tame it. Venison would work well with this wine. Bevmo.com has it for you online, so get a bottle or two shipped to you, save it for Fall/Winter, then invite some friends over at first snowfall and cook up that deer you bow-hunted along with those ducks you shot. Your guests may be repulsed at your idea of “sport,” but they’ll be impressed by the wine.

2005 Concha Y Toro “Terrunyo Block 27” Carmenere

This Carmenere may be from the same producer as the “Casillero del Diablo,” but it’s several steps up in flavor and in price, though still highly affordable for a wine of its character. The nose is drier, with some pastry tones, a little bit of fruit, and a ton of Creme de Cassis and its red currant allure. On the tongue it gets even darker: black currants, pomegranate, tobacco, some black licorice. You’ll even get a little bit of coffee at the end, though not as much as the Anakena. This finishes much cleaner and not nearly as dark. It reminded several of our tasters of a wine a stage or two below a big Cabernet, which they insisted was a compliment. Another Carmenere crying out for a food pairing rather than just a sit-and-sip. Bevmo.com may have the market cornered on Carmeneres,

but after we bought this one, we were only able to find the

2006 Terrunyo online. We can’t vouch for it like we can the

2005, but we trust it will be close enough that you will

enjoy it like we enjoyed the 2005. Give it a shot.   

Think you’ve got a better pop culture icon to describe Carmenere than what we came up with? Let us know in our Comments section. If it’s good enough, we may use it in a future update.
Taste, smell, or see something different? Let us know in our Comments section.
Know something about Carmenere that we don’t? Share it with us and other wine lovers out there in our Comments section.
Think you can pair food and wines better than Brein can? Share your best food pairings with Carmenere in our Comments section and see what the master has to say.

Our Friend of the Forgotten Grapes Tasting Squadron tastes all of these wines ahead of time to ensure that you aren’t getting anything rotten or any clunkers. We also try to ensure that all the wines highlighted here are affordably priced ($20 or less) so you can try them out for yourself without having to take out a second mortgage or sacrificing your kid (or future kid’s) college fund to do so. Lastly, the Friends of the Forgotten Grapes has relationships with all the fine wine purveyors we link to in this section. We know them, we trust them. You can order these wines from them online right now and be trying them out in the next couple of days. Do yourself a favor and order from them by using the links below. It’s totally worth it.

Do you know how difficult it is to find a picture on the Internet of a squid shooting black ink? Even an animated one? Hard enough that we had to give up and return to the album theme. So instead of black squid ink, you’re getting “Back in Black,” both of which are appropriate for Carmenere, as it dark as night in the bottle and glass. This makes sense since Carmenere was used in Bordeaux to give Cab and Merlot wines more color and depth, among other things. Don’t be put off by the color, though. You’re not going to be drinking an inky black wine. See below for more on that. No, Carmenere is still a red at heart, just so dark and intensely red that it sucks in all the light around it and looks black. The tell-tale sign that the wine is still red, though, is the violet ring around the edge of the glass when you tilt the wine toward light. That’s about as close to red as your Carmenere is going to get, unless you spill it.
Know of a bottle of Carmenere that we should try? Tell us about it in our Comments section.