Showing posts with label montaluce. Show all posts
Showing posts with label montaluce. Show all posts

Monday, February 1, 2010

Light-Headed at 1800'

1800 feet meaning the elevation of the Dahlonega Plateau, just north of Atlanta, where a rag-tag group of intrepid winemakers (perhaps gluttons for punishment in this climate) are making surprisingly good wine.

The ringleader in the Social Media scene is definitely Montaluce Winery & Estates. Myself, along with an equally rag-tag group of intrepid (due to the weather) food & wine bloggers trekked up the road a piece for a day of feasting and tasting (DISCLAIMER: those lovable rascals at Montaluce footed the bill).

You can- as usual- find better recaps of the event at Atlanta Wine Guy, Savory Exposure, Random Oenophile, Maison Marcel, and biskuit's photostream. However, I decided to take a crack at a video, since I used up about a week's worth of words on yesterday's post.

In this video, yes, the pictures do not do justice to the food. Easily worth the drive.



Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Fall in North Georgia



The weather was cold...really cold for mid October. But the campfire was warm, as were the bbq, beans, and cornbread. Of course, wine was plentiful, and the conversation and behind-the-scenes access from the owners and winemakers completed the day. Drinking room-temp, yeasty wine-to-be straight out of the fermenter has never been so fun!

Big thanks to Brent, Rob, Brad, Oliver, and all the folks at Montaluce who made us feel so welcome at the annual Fall Festival. Can't think of many better ways to spend a Saturday afternoon in October (with all due respect, 'Dawgs...)



Sunday, September 20, 2009

Taking Flight at Montaluce (at last, Georgia Wines part 4 of 4)


Dedication can be a tricky thing. Last thing I've wanted to do today is sit down and write a post. Football season can really wear one out, but a fan feels compelled to watch every minute of his favorite teams, even if the games run late into the night, sap all his emotional energy, and occupy his every waking minute from Saturday morning to Sunday evening. Call it, uh...dedication to the team. Unfortunately, the blog needs it's attention too, so dedication need be mustered again (somewhere, an English teacher is cursing me for using the same word three times in a paragraph).

Furthermore, I feel compelled to write about the wines being produced on the Dahlonega Plateau. These guys put in a lot of hard work and- do I even need to say it?- into what they're doing, especially at Montaluce. The folks there dropped everything to speak to some inquisitive boob from Woodstock, GA, so the least I can do is write about it. If you want to read my article about Montaluce, click here. For the purposes of this post, I'm sticking strictly to the wine:

2008 Risata: Three cheers for good winemaking. This Sangiovese-based effort was originally intended to be a red wine. When the grapes didn't come in the way the winemaker wanted, he turned it into an intriguing Rosé. Nice move. I was met with a very pleasant nose of roses, orange peel, herbs, that Georgia "grassiness", and rainbow sherbet. Yeah, the red, green, and orange stuff. It was dry and crisp in the mouth, with good acidity. A really nice wine.

2008 Chardonnay: A nice, buttery, earthy nose (maybe "grassy" again?) with some telltale Chardonnay aromas of green apple and citrus. In the mouth, there was once again good acidity (which you'd expect in a cool-climate, but not in the Deep South...nice). This wine also had a nice, long finish. It was not my favorite of the bunch, but that could be a personal problem. Why am I saddling you with my problems? You've got enough on your plate, and I respect that, valued reader.

2008 Viognier: A variety of grape that I'm seeing a ton of in Georgia, for which I am very happy (Viognier is SOOO good when done well). Montaluce's- yet again- had a very interesting nose...extra virgin olive oil (or "EVOO" if you're into terrible Rachael Ray references) was the first thing that jumped out at me. I also got apricots, peaches, and honey in my snout. Nice tangerine and spice in the mouth. Bought a bottle; what else can I say?

2008 Merlot: Another good nose. Herbs, green pepper, and berries dancing around in the glass. As I swished it around in my cheeks, this light-to-medium bodied red had a huge kick of strawberries, which never sucks. Really, what's impressive about the Montaluce wines is the depth of flavor that I haven't really seen in the other Georgia wines I've had. They're more complex, and this Merlot is no exception.

2008 Cabernet Sauvignon: I think by this point, I was jaw-jacking with Rob Beecham, and I didn't write down any notes. Nice one, Joe. Anyway, what I do remember is that it was pretty good: medium-bodied, good fruit, that signature Georgia "grassiness" (which may sound bad, but it's not. It's the "Georgia" in the wine). Sorry, Cab. I meant well, but failed to give you the respect you deserve.

So, there it is. This edition of my Georgia wine oddyssey is closed- for now. There's a lot more going on up in the hills, so I'm sure I'll be back...

...just like I'm sure I'll be sitting on the couch again on a Sunday night, trying to avoid writing a post. But if they keep busting their butts to make the best wine possible, I'll get off mine and write about it.

To dedication, even when it's not the easy thing to do: Cheers, Sláinte, L'Chaim, Salud, Prost, Skål, Konbe, and Kampai!

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Don't Hassle Me, I'm Local (Georgia Wine, part 1 of 3)

"We're not trying to make California wine. If you want California wine, go to California. What we are doing is making Georgia wine...and Georgia wine is good wine."


-Rob Beecham, Montaluce Vineyards


An obvious statement on the surface, but one profoundly rooted in the European concept of terroir- the concept that a wine is so much more than the fruit itself. The soil, the climate, the orientation of the slopes, the training of the vine, the care of the grower and the mastery of the winemaker; all culminating in the glass as so much more: a truly unique expression that can only be found in certain parts of the world.


I'd expect this talk from a Frenchman or Italian vintner. Yet Beecham is certainly neither. The hip, forty-something, boundless ball of energy and enthusiasm, builder, developer, family man, and obvious wine-fanatic hails from Decatur, GA - just east of downtown Atlanta, attended Roswell High School in the suburbs, and now resides in the hills an hour north of the city.


Yep, I found my kindred spirit: the other Atlanta native. Seriously, it seems NO ONE living here is from here originally.


But what's happening in those hills- namely, Dahlonega, GA- is incredibly exciting. When faced with a burning desire to move west and settle down in wine country, grow old with his friends and family with a cigar in one hand and a glass of wine in another, Beecham, along with brother Brent, decided to build something close to home. The result: Montaluce, a community of homes, vineyards, a beautiful winery, restaurant, and event facilities. And it's all a stone's throw from the 8th largest metropolitan area in the States. And, as their vines hit the magic 3-4 year birthday, they're making wine with their own grapes. "Why can't we have wine country in our home state?" questions Rob. "Georgia used to be the sixth largest producer of wine in the union, but we're having to learn the process again."


Another dubious feather-in-the-cap of Prohibition. But the notorious 18th amendment is only part of the story. A growing temperance movement (that just sounds lame) that manifested in the early 1800's reached a head in 1908, and the Georgia legislature ratified a statewide ban on alcohol that even outlasted the national Prohibition that ended in 1933. Georgia wised up in 1935, but the damage had been done...most vineyards were abandoned and neglected.


But enough with the history lesson. More on that can be found at http://www.georgiawinecountry.com/


And now, where America's first gold rush began, another treasure trove- first reemerging in the 70's- is firmly establishing itself: quality wine produced from vitis vinifera (traditional European wine grapes), all in an area naysayers would criticize as too humid and rainy to produce great vino. Are there challenges? Huge ones. Peronospera and oidium, among other fungal diseases to the vine, are combatted weekly. Pierce's disease runs rampant. Furthermore, economies of scale, global reputation, and awareness are a constant threat: how will a consumer choose a $20+ wine from a fledgling growing region over internationally-renowned regions' products at half the price?


I think the "locavore" movement will play a critical part. As forward-thinking restauranteurs and consumers look to support local farmers, ranches, and fisheries, providing local wineries seems the next logical step to me. And if there's not a golden goose sitting on the locavore nest (what does that even mean?), then tourism can play its role. Anyone as wine -nerdy as me daydreams about trips to the west coast, France, Italy. What we all need to understand is that there's a pretty damn good time only an hour away.


But even more promising to the success of Montaluce and wineries like it is the incredible passion of the folks backing it. Rarely have I known tireless visionaries to fail in their endeavors, and if I can say one thing about Rob Beecham in the short time I spoke with him, it's crystal-clear that he's putting everything he's got into his dream, and it resonates in the product; whether that be the homes, the tasting room decor, or the surprising wine.


I'll be talking about some of the wines in greater detail next Wednesday for "Wine Blogging Wednesday #61" (a brainchild of Lenn Thompson, head honcho at lenndevours.com, a read definitely worth your glance). In the meantime, take a look at montalucewinery.com, or even better, hop in your car, leave your preconceptions cellared with your Mondavi and Opus One, and prepare yourself for a great time. You'll not just be helping the local economy, you be participating in a wine culture that can literally be called home-grown.


As I proudly raise a glass of unique, Georgia wine, I say to you Cheers, Sláinte, L'Chaim, Salud, Prost, Skål, Konbe, and Kampai!