Not your daddy's Zinfandel

From the chapter: Cooking up storms

“Happy Zinfandel” cluster.

One thing we've learned about California Zinfandel over the years: It is a far, far more food-versatile wine than most people may think.

That wasn’t always the image of the varietal. In a way, it still isn't. By the late 1980s, of course, the country was awash with pink colored “White Zinfandel,” while producers focused on the other two “fighting varietals” considered more important, Chardonnay and Cabernet Sauvignon. But going back long before the grape’s pink wine heyday, Zinfandel was always a red wine, albeit an animal of a different stripe from what you see today.

Old time growers all talked (and still talk) about hitting an ideal mark of about 22° Brix; which of course, would convert to no more than 12%, 12.5% alcohol. Anything bigger than that was considered overripe, or just plain weird. During the 1960s and earlier, Zinfandel specialists such John Parducci, Samuele and August Sebastiani, and the first two Louis Martinis were producing Zinfandel just the way they liked it—fairly soft, simple and restrained, yet with zesty fruit qualities practically begging for tomato sauced spaghetti. I took it to heart when once reading about August Sebastiani saying, “I like Cabernet Sauvignon, but Zinfandel is what I drink every day.”

August Sebastiani, 1913-1980.

So let’s not sell the old school wines short. It’s important to have good wine for spaghetti; not only that, but also for fettuccine tossed with mushrooms and parmigiano, or linguine with clams, mussels, tomato, garlic and earthy, grassy pecorino. This is where the modern day Zinfandels that are still crafted with some sense of restraint really shine.

Among my favorite examples of the moderately scaled style of Zinfandels of today: Witching Stick and Parducci in Mendocino, Nalle and Quivira in Sonoma, Robert Biale and Frog's Leap in Napa Valley, the Original Grandpère Vineyard bottlings of Vino Noceto and Scott Harvey from Amador County, and Lodi grown bottlings by Turley, Sandlands, McCay, Haarmeyer and others. There are many more, but I’m just trying to give you an idea of what I’m talking about. If anything, ever since the days when spaghetti came to be called “pasta,” there haven’t been enough of these lighter, snappier red Zins to go around.

Still, let’s face it: As a variety of pure and distinct character different from anything else in the world, Zinfandel really comes into its own when vinified into something a little bigger, even huge. The special characteristics of the grape—the black cherry, raspberry, blackberry or even blueberry jam, mixed in as it often is with exhilarating whiffs of freshly ground pepper, cinnamon and clove, even when oak comes across like burning leaves of autumn⏤can become even more intensely defined when grapes are picked with enough sugar to reach alcoholic strengths of 15% to 16%, with glycerol (a higher alcohol) contributing to a layered, textural feel.

Although I may personally prefer my Zinfandels light and zesty, no one needs to apologize for liking them big. When it comes to Zinfandel, theories such as those of the short-lived "Pursuit of Balance" movement just don’t hold water. There is simply no correlation between "balance" and lower alcohol; especially for Zinfandels made by specialists sourcing from special vineyards (e.g., a Turley or Robert Biale from Napa Valley, or a Lucas in Lodi).

Zinfandels from venerated old vineyards typically come across as more finely balanced, more food-versatile and longer-lived (up to 20, 30 years) than most 13%-14% alcohol Zinfandels from younger, less exalted vineyards, no matter what the appellation. Site counts for many of the best or most interesting wines of the world; perhaps even more so for old vine Zinfandel.

Yet Zinfandel is also a varietal that is charming in nearly all its guises. From a culinary perspective, we've learned that the logical approach is to simply make room for all Zinfandels under your tent—drink the lighter Zins with pastas, bigger or more oak influenced Zins with the bigger meats, and the in-betweens with in-between dishes.

Since finding a home in Lodi, I've naturally come to appreciate the old to ancient vine, fourth or fifth generation farmed plantings dating back to the 1800s or early 1900s. The entire world can breathe a sigh of relief that these vineyards are finally being put to good use, and turned into terroir expressive reds rather than soda-pop-like pink wines or buried in gigantic vats to make cheap, anonymous red wine blends.

Ridge Vineyards, above all others, deserves much of the credit for keeping the interest in old vine Zinfandel alive and respectable during the dark days when White Zinfandel ruled the roost; producing an uninterrupted series of single vineyard bottlings, notably from sites planted in the old Italian tradition of field mixing (Zinfandel inter-planted with Petite Sirah, Carignan, Alicante Bouschet, Mission, and as many as a half-a-dozen other grapes).

Russian River Valley vineyard over 100 years old.

The 1990s and early 2000s were an interesting era because brands such as Rosenblum, Ravenswood, Turley Wine Cellars and Carol Shelton also began burnishing their reputations on old vine sites up and down the California coast. Honestly, though, the more ultra-ripe, oaky, 16%-17% ABV bottlings of these brands, while compelling in their own way, were also wines of somewhat narrow culinary range, in the same way that over-the-top Priorats, Châteauneuf-du-Papes and Amarones always are—challenging, yet not impossible.

Since then, many others—such as Hendry and Robert Biale in Napa Valley, Davis Family and Mauritson in Sonoma, or McNab Ridge and Artezin in Mendocino—have been consistently crafting Zinfandels of equal parts power and balance; while in the higher reaches of the Sierra Foothills, producers such as Cedarville, Newsome-Harlow and Miraflores have been hitting a similar sweet spot… not too big, not too light, yet intense, zesty, savory.

Just how good are contemporary style Zinfandels with food? I wouldn’t argue if you say that beef is always best with Cabernet Sauvignon, but I’ve been amazed by how well even a sturdier, sweetly berryish Zinfandel goes with roasted prime rib bathed in horseradish tinged natural jus, or the way a simple charred sirloin doused in Tabasco bringing out the natural rotundone (peppery components) of the grape. At the same time, how about this? Thin slices of beef steeped in soy sauce, palm sugar, sesame, garlic and ginger in the fashion of Japanese, Mongolian or Korean marinades, charcoal grilled or seared on a smoking hot iron, and plopped on a neutral ground of steamed white rice.

Asian influenced sensations, in fact, are a culinary ground Cabernet Sauvignon and even Merlot have a hard time covering, whereas the peppery spiced, sweet berry concentration of many of the typical Zinfandels of today seem to have no problem. When it comes to fusion or Asian style treatments of beef—in sauces based upon the salty/umami sensations of soy sauce, or even sweet, bitter or spicy ingredients such as ketchup, hot mustards or sriracha—Zinfandel goes where few other wines can.

It is also said that lamb calls for Cabernet Sauvignon, if not classic red Bordeaux. Early on, during late '70s and 1980s when Zinfandels were just beginning to get bigger, jammier and oakier, we discovered that these styles of the varietal tasted just fine with legs of lamb caked with sweet or hot mustard, lamb chops grilled on the barbie with chunks of eggplant, bell peppers or portobellos, and entire racks coming out of the roaster dripping with buttery bread crumbs, slathered in sweet mint jelly or drizzled with sweet balsamics. Fatty, sweet, charred, caramelized, earthy, bitter, spicy, or even vinegary sensations⏤there didn’t seem to be much that the more intensely fruited styles of Zinfandel couldn’t handle, with aplomb.

Then there is the “other” white meat; that is, almost any variation of pork: From Italian sausages to chorizo, from chops pan fried with pungent herbs (rosemary, thyme, herbes de Provence, etc.) to roasts smothered in wine, herbs or zesty barbecue sauces. Zinfandel and pork are such natural partners, you’d have to be either blissfully ignorant or a hopelessly effete snob to say that Zinfandels, big or moderately weighted, don’t make good “food” wines.

The eternally effete question, of course, is how do big Zinfandels age? Although we now know from experience that it ages just fine, thank you, a more pertinent question might be: Does it matter? After years of trying Zinfandels cellared for ten or more years (including in one marathon wine/food tasting involving 10 to 30-year-old bottles of Ridge Zinfandels led by Ridge’s longtime head cheese, Paul Draper), I’ve reached this conclusion: There may be nothing more delicious than a good, 3 to 5-year-old Zinfandel.

Old Zinfandels go great with food; as do young Zinfandels, for different if equally good reasons.

All the same, the conventional thinking is that when Zinfandels are crafted in more restrained, balanced, more or less “natural” styles, there is greater possibility for the wines to evolve into finer, zestier wines with fresh, compelling perfumes, even after more than 10 years in the bottle. And in fact, this is what many Zinfandel lovers have been discovering—particularly with older bottles produced prior to 2000, when giant, high alcohol/oak “fruit bomb” styles (or as Ravenswood used to put it, "No wimpy wines!") of red Zinfandel suddenly became the rage.

But here’s the thing that many proponents of old school or balanced styles of Zinfandel are also finding out: Rambunctious, higher alcohol Zinfandels, at over 15% or even 16% ABV, can age just as well as lighter, 13% or 14% ABV Zinfandels, especially if they are crafted with a

• Good, solid core of natural grape acidity, which can keep a Zinfandel tasting fresh and lively, even after over 20 years in the bottle.

• Bright and concentrated core of fruit, which is more likely to comes from older vine blocks⏤presuming that the reason a vineyard may be over 50, 75 or even over 100 years old in the first place is because it has been valued as a source of high quality wine for all those years, and thus worth keeping in the ground.

These attributes, as it were, are precisely the qualities that increase the food compatibility of any wine. Ergo, big or light, young or old, Zinfandels are great with food.

Then there is the matter of tannin—the phenolic compounds derived from grape skins and seeds that give red wines their hard or bitter taste, especially when young—which plays a major part in the aging potential of Zinfandel, just as it does in all the world’s finer red wines. The funny thing about Zinfandel is that, in terms of phenolic content, the varietal is more like wines made from Pinot noir or Grenache than varieties such as Cabernet Sauvignon, Syrah, Nebbiolo or even Tempranillo. Pure Zinfandels do not have gobs of tannin (although Zinfandels pumped with maxiumum proportions of Petite Sirah are another matter).

Yet we know that, like a good Pinot Noir or Grenache coming off of favorable sites, a finely crafted, well balanced Zinfandel can age just as gracefully as the darkest, highest tannin reds. It ain't the meat, it's the motion.

All the same, I have always had a predilection for good sized Zinfandels right out of the barrel, having gone so far as purchasing full barrels over the years and serving them in restaurant settings completely unbottled, in order to treat my guests to the wildest, most primal and pristine tastes possible in terms of unruly tannin and the varietal's berry-inundated profile (being a part owner of multiple restaurants gave me that advantage).

Point being, Zinfandel is versatile enough to shine under almost any circumstances, including when kept raw or naked.

THE IDEAL ZINFANDEL FOOD MATCHES

A few remarks on the myriad food possibilities of Zinfandel:

• For bigger sized Zinfandels (closer to 15% or 16% ABV), bring on the fattiest or wildest, full flavored meats—aged beef, venison, boar, buffalo, elk, and maybe even squab or goose—and slather them with the seasonings and spices (including hot chilies, if balanced with ingredients that are mildly sweet, salty, sour, etc.) you like, because Zinfandel’s combination of elevated acidity, moderated tannin, and sweetly fruit-forward flavors go where few other reds can (I liken the phenomenon to enjoying ultra-ripe Shiraz with kangaroo in South Australia).

• The zesty fruit quality of moderately scaled Zinfandels (i.e., acid-driven styles purer in varietal content, with softer tannins, less oak influence and less than 14% alcohol) actually makes the varietal a good candidate for red-wine-with-fish combinations (providing you grill, sauce, or season the fish with Zin-friendly methodology). Fattier fish such as tuna or salmon are especially good in this context.

• Variations of earthy tastes such as mustards and mustard greens (as underlying components that help reduce bitter tannins), bell peppers and chile peppers (can heighten grape’s peppery spice), peppercorns (ditto), corning or curing (the grape’s “jammy” sensations can handle some salting), garlic and onions (accents the grape’s sweetness), caramelized beets (sweet root vegetables embellish Zinfandel fruitiness), as well as mushrooms and goat cheeses (most Zinfandels have enough acidity to balance both acid and umami components in foods) all get along famously with Zinfandel’s uniquely multifaceted personality.

• Marinades in combination with wood or charcoal grilling, smoking and roasting to create caramelized flavors can “sweeten” the briary, berry taste of Zinfandel, and round out its rougher edges, even when over-oaked (still the favorable style of many North Coast bottlings).

• Use of sweet/acidic fruits such as tomatoes, berries, and cherry can also match the varietal profile and reduce the effect of tannins in young or oak laden Zinfandels.

• The aromatic Mediterranean herbs such as rosemary, bay leaf, oregano, thyme, sweet basil, marjoram and savory add complimenting notes to the naturally spice accented varietal profile (although not so much, more aggressively pungent herbs such as mint, cilantro, dill or tarragon); arugula, cress, dandelion and other peppery/nutty greens play to the grape’s peppery spice; and spare, thoughtful use of star anise, juniper, mace, ginger, caraway, clove, sumac, and seeds of anise, poppy and sesame can all work with peppercorns to embellish the sweetly spiced varietal character.

• Plump, fatty sausage meats, with black or red peppers and seed spices; especially when used as meat stuffings (or plopped between buns, for that matter) play to the peppery and savory (i.e., umami related) qualities found in most Zinfandels.

• As with all fine wine and food matching, it is a good idea to avoid extremes (like overdosing with herbs or overly complicated, multiple saucing) and imbalances (especially over-salting with rock salt or seafood stocks, heavy handed sweetening with sugar or fruits, or over-acidifying with vinegars, etc.). Not even the most deeply fruited Zinfandel is 100% forgiving. In the end, it makes as little sense to detract from the varietal’s obvious charms as it would to clobber a delicate dish with a super-sized wine.

• Finally, while like most deep flavored red wines Zinfandel is easily complimented by deep flavored, firm, umami intensified aged cheeses such parmigiano, pecorino, manchego, cheddars and goudas, the varietal can also cross lines to softer cheeses when given specific Zin-friendly components. For instance, Italian herb crusted chèvres and white truffle specked boschetto al tartufo merge effortlessly with the sweet berry jam qualities of even the biggest Zins. By the same token, a chili pepper pecorino’s subtle spice and grassy edge brings out the peppery spice in the varietal, while the deep, crystal-caramelized taste of "super-aged" goudas (such as Beemster 18-Year-Old or XO) underscore the richest Zinfandels’ generous fruitiness and savory umami palate-feels.

Hawaii alto sax genius Gabe Baltazar.

STRETCHING CULINARY BOUNDARIES IN ZINFANDEL MENUS PAST

The 1990s were a Zin-fruitful time for our Hawaii based Roy's restaurants. As much as we loved, for instance, Pinot Noir with our French/Asian/fusion cuisine, Zinfandel was always the more effortless match, especially when our chefs were more aggressive with spices or seasonings (i.e., when plates leaned more "Asian/fusion" than "French").

For a good ten years running I would visit De Loach Vineyards (in those days still owned by founders Cecil and Christine De Loach) in the winter or early spring following each vintage to taste, select, and then purchase a full barrel of one of their super-powered single vineyard old vine plantings from the Russian River Valley. The idea was to give everyone back home in the Islands a chance to taste a wine that had never been bottled. I wanted them to experience what I experienced during my wine country peregrinations.

Because it normally took four to five nights for our guests to consume an entire barrel, we would pick the biggest (usually approaching 16%), blackest, spiciest De Loach Zinfandel made each year. I’d always look for an “essence-of-autumn-spice” in my barrel tastings, since our barrel Zinfandel dinners always took place in the fall. In the restaurants, it was always an event, and invariably a cloth staining mess, to pop in a spigot to liberate the vividly colored wine within. It was also the only day of the year when we would clear out space in the dining room of our original East Honolulu location for a live band.

During the first few years, we focused on Zinfandel and jazz combinations, giving our guests a potpourri of choices—dishes loaded with Zin-friendly components to savor and swing to, with the local alto sax genius Gabe Baltazar dishing out the vibes. Hence, the menu for our "Barrel Zinfandel" night in October 1995:

Jazzed Up Menu for the 1994 De Loach Pelletti Ranch Zinfandel

• Wood oven pizzette of braised lamb, artichokes, Feta and olives

• Cassoulet of Hawaiian escargot with oxtail, potatoes and spinach

• Cold smoked oysters with salmon roe, horseradish and sour cream

• Half moon pasta of beef shortribs with baby greens and roasted shiitake jus

• Fresh sautéed clams and New England lobster in zin laced natural stock

• Pan roasted pork medallions with vine ripened Big Island tomatoes, bitter mesclun and black pepper olive oil

• Herb roasted rack of lamb with sun dried tomatoes, capers and dill

• Imu oven baked ‘ahi tuna steak crusted with pancetta corn duxelle

• Tapenade grilled ribeye of beef with red pepper aioli

Like Zinfandel: I, yi, yi, yi, yi, I like you very much.

After a few years we began to move away from sophisticated jazz, cutting loose with other themes as much for our musical pleasure as to expand our own culinary thoughts on Zinfandel/food matching. I was particularly happy with our Spanish themed menu in 1996, matched to a 10-piece salsa band; all courses (except the dessert) focusing on how brightly the Zinfandel fruit shines when contrasted by earthy, at times garlicky or olive oil drenched, ingredients:

Salsa Menu for the 1995 De Loach Pelletti Ranch Zinfandel

• Champinones marinated wild mushrooms

• Almejas en salsa clams in garlic, olive oil and Nalo Farm herbs

• Caracoles snails in onion, garlic and concasée

• Wood oven filet of ‘ahi tuna in big Zin sauce

• Saffroned paella with mussels, clams and opakapaka (pink snapper)

• Cinnamon grilled rack of lamb in fresh mint butter and jus

• Bacon wrapped filet of Kulana beef in wild game offal sauce

• "Caramel Miranda" fresh exotic fruit flan

In 1997 we made room in our dining room for dancing and a Cajun-Zydeco band, well knowing what a rollicking accordion, soaring fiddles, tapping spoons and frottoir (rubboard) does to heighten the blood pressure, which inky rich, unfiltered, unfined, unfettered Zin does with barely any help at all.

That year I think we had to pull some of the dancing guests down from the top of tables. But as in the previous years’ menus, the ingredients were particularly earthy and umami driven; this time, in a thickened plethora of reddish/golden brown ingredients (like the color and texture of good roux), giving delicious contrast to the spiced-up red and black berry qualities of our barrel selection, which ended up being a blend of three single-vineyards/barrels (not a problem, quantity-wise, since I sent barrels to locations on three separate Islands) of my choice:

Fais Do-Do Menu for a 1996 Three-Barrel Blend of De Loach Old Vine Zinfandel

• "Blue Plate Spéciale" of barbecued shrimp with Creole tartar, bourbon stewed oyster, marinated calamari and crispy Louisiana style crab cake

• Crispy panéed veal with crab béarnaise and roasted red pepper sauce

• "Y Ki Ki" style etouffée of shrimp, mussels, lobster and scallops with red beans N rice

• Bronzed baby Hawaiian swordfish with roasted pecans, jalapeño and brown lemon garlic butter

• Blackened rare filet of ‘ahi tuna with andouille, corn and creole mustard sauce

• "Terroirized" bone-in ribeye of beef with rustic spice rub and natural blood jus

• Oven warm Hawaiian sweetbread and raisin bread pudding in bourbon sauce

Jumping to 1998, we brought out the oversized caps and tropical shirts for a reggae rhythmed culinary theme, highlighting a barrel from De Loach’s Gambogi Ranch—the biggest, blackest, baddest Zinfandel we could find from the ’97 vintage:

Ska Menu for the 1997 De Loach Gambogi Ranch Zinfandel

• "Z-Rad dutchy" of scallion wrapped U10 scallop in ginger plum sauce

• Green zebra tomato carpaccio with mozzarella di bufala in caper mustard seed vinaigrette

• Half moon of ‘ahi tuna and grilled vegetables in sweet Maui onion jus and "Hangtown Fry" oyster in lardon Zin sauce

• Jerk chicken sausage "rasta pasta" with autumn root vegetables

• Tortellini of shrimp and prosciutto in roasted garlic jus and pesto butter

• Green herb stuffed baby artichoke and wilted spinach salad in warm balsamic vinaigrette

• Miso marinated hamachi (yellowtail) with wasabi mash in shiitake oyster sauce

• Mixed grill of peppercorn ‘ahi tuna, Hudson Valley duck, baby back ribs and Waimanalo corn

• Napoleon of lamb loin, truffled potato and portobello in Zinfandel beet sauce

• Tropical fruit napoleon with "guava jelly" sauce

In 1999, our theme was “Disco Zin,” complete with flared, hip hugging slacks, disco balls and of course, a retro-disco style band (can someone spell Bee Gees?). But it was also a special occasion for the more serious Zinfandel aficionados among our clientele because 1999 was also the year Cecil and Christine De Loach decided to grace us with their presence; bringing some library bottlings from previous vintages to compliment our barrel selection of 1998 Gambogi Ranch.

This prompted us to devise a menu building up from courses designed for the older bottlings to courses for the young, rambunctious vintage poured directly from the barrel. All dishes focusing on the black-as-moonless-night, essence-of-blackberry jam yet extremely food-flexible savory qualities for which old vine Zinfandels such as Gambogi have long been known:

Disco Zin Menu for a Vertical Bottlings and a Barrel of De Loach Gambogi Ranch Zinfandel

• Fresh ‘ahi tuna tortellini in natural beef broth—De Loach, Gambogi Ranch 1994

• "Disco Wild" risotto of wild mushrooms, wild rice and aborio with Parmigiano and truffled vegetables—De Loach, Gambogi Ranch 1995

• Nalo Farm mesclun salad with crispy gizzard croutons in warm balsamic vinaigrette—De Loach, Gambogi Ranch 1996

• Wood roasted salmon in “drunken” saké sauce with Waimanalo eggplant, tofu and scallions—De Loach, Gambogi Ranch 1997

• Rosemary pork loin skewers in fresh basil Zinfandel essence—De Loach, Gambogi Ranch 1998 (barrel)

• Bittersweet Hawaiian Vintage Chocolate petits fours—De Loach, Gambogi Ranch 1998 (barrel)