2009 ~ No. 9    

Chile

Chile holds a unique position in the wine world.

Due to its geographic isolation – the country is bordered to the north by the Atacama Desert, by the Andes Mountains to the east, by Patagonian ice fields in the south and, of course, to the west by the Pacific Ocean – the country’s vineyards have never encountered the phylloxera louse that once devastated so many of the world’s vines.

The solution required grafting the grape vines onto phylloxera-resistant rootstock. Since this wasn’t necessary in Chilean vineyards, the vines are whole and original. Many believe that, as a result, Chilean wines have deeper flavor with more pure fruit character.

Yet, for much of this country’s wine history, the focus wasn’t so much on quality as quantity.

As with much of the Americas, it was Spanish conquistadors who planted the first vineyards using Pais grapes, known as Mission grapes in the US. The purpose was, of course, for sacramental wine though many locals also had a taste for the juice!

It wasn’t until 1851 – three hundred years after the first vines were planted in Chile – that Bordeaux varietals were imported and grown, reflecting a burgeoning interest in European-style wine production and giving rise to a boom in commercial winemaking.

Though the industry was thriving, a combination of protectionism and world events isolated the country’s winemakers and limited their access to new technologies. Winemaking in Chile was effectively shut down from the early 20th century until 1974, when a ban on new vineyards was lifted.

The wine world descended, with new investments that kick-started a modern wine revolution. Chilean wineries modernized their methods, introducing the use of stainless steel tanks for fermentation and small French oak barriques for ageing, creating gravity-flow infrastructure, and investing in low-impact crushers and presses, among other improvements.

The vineyards were not immune from these changes, either. Massive efforts were made to replant grapes and implement modern vineyard management techniques with an eye towards making wine for international standards.

Attracted by lower costs and a near-ideal winegrowing climate, foreign wineries also began investigating Chile’s possibilities, opening up even more frontiers both literally and metaphorically.

Today, vintners are pushing the boundaries and opening new viticultural areas in seemingly inhospitable areas like Patagonia and the Andean Piedmont – as well as discovering new growing areas within existing regions.

The Casablanca Valley, for one example, is considered one of the country’s best new wine regions though it is only an hours’ drive from the capital of Santiago. The first vines were planted here a relatively recent 27 years ago by Pablo Morande.

The region is on a coastal plain, cooled by morning fog and coastal breezes. This climate gives the wine their signature fresh, fruity qualities and is what has attracted everyone from major wine producers like Concha y Toro to small, boutique estates.

Kingston Family Vineyards

One of the small, boutique estates that’s putting Casablanca on the map is Kingston Family Vineyards. An overview of the family’s history in the Casablanca Valley could read as an epic saga encompassing five generations, hidden gold and a leap of faith - as told by a working mom with one heck of a commute.

Based in northern California, Courtney Kingston regularly travels to the family property, located in the heart of the Casablanca Valley. But she’s got it much easier than her dad. His journey to the farm was a winding, five hour trip over windy mountain roads; hers is an easy one hour jaunt through tunnels carved into the same mountains.

Also unlike her father, who was raised on the farm, Courtney didn’t set foot on the family property until she was in her late teens. But that first visit left an indelible impression. “There’s a sense of stewardship…the vastness of place and the responsibility of my generation to leave it better than we found it,” she says.

The story begins in the early 1900s, when Courtney’s great grandparents (photo) came to Chile from upper Michigan looking for copper (successfully) and gold (unsuccessfully, though “our great-great-great grandkids might find it,” says Courtney.)

In the 1920s, they inherited the land that became the family estate. They have operated numerous businesses on the farm, which is self-supporting, and the key industries today include dairy cows, beef cattle – and wine.

Unsurprisingly, the idea of growing grapes required a leap of faith. “There was a lot of arm waving and gesturing,” Courtney says of the discussion, though it also was a civilized one. “We’re very geeky and have annual meetings and conference calls in order to have a level of professionalism” when it comes to running the property.

This seemingly new direction was the result of “my generation thinking about what’s next for the farm” but it didn’t come out of thin air.

In business school, Courtney developed a business plan for establishing vineyards, subsequently working in the California wine industry. These events coincided with the time American wineries began showing interest in Chile; with the Kingston’s Chilean neighbors planting the area’s first grapevines; and with Courtney’s desire to help find a new business that was well-suited for the farm and its terroir.

In the end, they decided to take the plunge. “You’ve got to walk before you can run, so we only wanted to plant grapes first,” Courtney says. Using California as a model, they hired consultant Ann Kraemer to help determine what to plant and where. In addition to Sauvignon Blanc there was great potential for cool-climate Syrah and Pinot Noir. “We’re just 10 miles from the coast and very cool – the fog hits us first and leaves last,” Courtney notes.

Vines were planted, but the sailing was not smooth. The first signs of trouble occurred when their Sauvignon Blanc fruit sold at two times the price of the Pinot Noir – an atypical ratio. “No one was willing to pay. We had to show we believed in what we were doing and to show the potential of the grapes. Only, we had to make the wine in order to demonstrate that!”

So Courtney began “stalking” winemaker Byron Kosuge, who was starting his own label after spending 14 years crafting cool-climate Pinot Noir for Saintsbury. “He traded a week of his time to see the potential of our vineyards for a week of my time to help him with his business plan,” Courtney remembers. He was intrigued by what he saw and signed up for the challenge.

A research and development section of the vineyard helped guide their decisions. Carmenere, considered the national grape of Chile, was “a disaster. We couldn’t ripen it if our lives depended on it.” Cabernet Franc, on the other hand, “did wonderfully but there was no market,” according to Courtney.

These results furthered their resolve to focus on Pinot Noir and Syrah.

As the winery evolved, they “have taken Northern California learnings and applied them to Chile,” Courtney says. For example, she wanted to implement a per-acre contract with wineries. [In this model, a winery pays on a per acre basis for their grapes, as opposed to per ton, the typical contract in Chile.] Their initial attempts to implement this model “went over like a lead balloon,” notes Courtney, though they have overcome the initial resistance and now grow grapes for some of the country’s top winemakers on a per acre basis.

In addition, Courtney wanted to replicate in Chile her experience with Oregon’s Steamboat Pinot Noir Conference. This event offers winemakers a collaborative venue to evaluate each other’s wines and discuss how to improve them. (The wines are tasted blind.) In Chile’s fiercely independent wine culture, the odds of success were again slim.

“I pulled the event together so the winemakers who make wine from [our vineyards] can get feedback,” Courtney says. But planning the first gathering was something akin to planning a wedding. “First my uncle said, ‘No, you can’t taste the wines blind!’ Then he was worried about seating, saying you can’t put certain people next to each other!”

Undeterred, Courtney finessed the details, overcame his objections and, five years later, notes that they have to turn people away from the event.

Of course, they also learned a thing or two from the Chilean way of making wine. In particular, Courtney says, “we were struck by the need to cut back on our use of oak. The grapes here just can’t handle it.”

The family’s vision and perseverance are an excellent combination. Today, 90% of their grapes are sold to other winemakers in Chile, with the balance reserved for the Kingston Family wines.

Their first vintage, in 2003, saw only 450 cases produced. From this tiny start, praise for the estate and their wines soon followed. Kingston Family Vineyards has been called “one of the most important growers in Casablanca”; their wine dubbed “some of Chile’s best Pinots”; and the family as “[making] their mark on the wine world.”

In 2006, a new tasting terraza and winery were completed. Production is currently running at half-capacity, but that’s just fine with Courtney. “We’ll grow gradually,” she says of the estate’s future. “That’s a good thing.”

Tasting the Wines

Phylloxera and Flavor

Some of the words used to describe wine sound a little scary, albeit unintentionally so. I’ll never forget the look on a woman’s face when I enthusiastically described one to her as a “cult wine.”

So what’s this mumbo-jumbo about phylloxera, grafting and rootstock?

Related to the aphid, phylloxera is a tiny insect that attacks grapevines at the roots. Their feeding causing deformations that prohibit the vine from absorbing water and nutrients, slowly killing the plant.

The louse was accidentally transported from North America, where vines are naturally resistant, to Europe in the 1860s. Vignerons across the continent were unprepared for the infestation, and though the louse spread from Portugal to Italy, Germany to Spain, it was French vineyards that were particularly devastated.

Phylloxera’s impact cannot be understated: it is estimated that between 65% and 90% of all European vineyards were destroyed. In France alone, wine production plunged from 84.5 million hectoliters to 23.4 million hectoliters in fourteen years.

The idea to use resistant rootstocks came about around 1880 and to this day remains the best way to deal with the phylloxera problem.

It’s an elegantly simple solution: The European vinifera vines that are principally used for winemaking (such as Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Chardonnay and other well-known varietals) are simply grafted onto the resistant American rootstocks.

It works for two reasons. First, the new rootstock does not interfere with the development of the wine grapes and, second, it allows customization of the rootstock to the climate, soil and other conditions of the vineyard.

Unfortunately, phylloxera has not been fully conquered. Among other reasons, some rootstocks proved more resistant to the louse than others. Much of Napa and Sonoma, for example, had to be replanted in the 1990s, as the vines had been grafted to what turned out to be a more-susceptible rootstock.

In addition to Chile, there are other pockets of the wine world that have, thus far, been immune to the pest, including parts of Australia (where there is a strict quarantine) and Argentina as well as several lesser-known wine regions like China and India.

Many people believe that vines planted on their original rootstock taste better or are somehow more “pure” than the grafted vines. Is it true? Unfortunately, given the scarcity of pre-1880s wine available to taste, it’s nearly impossible to come up with a better answer than “maybe.”

While it is clear that these wines have a very different character, the process of winemaking is so complex that it’s impossible to rule out other factors as contributing to the difference in addition to or instead of the rootstock.

For more information, this article offers an elegant explanation of the issues along with insights from some of the world’s top wine experts.