Free The Wine Savant: A Guide to the New Wine Culture by Michael Steinberger Page B

even 15 percent alcohol, and the labels may not even be telling the full story. Under U.S. law, wines 14 percent or under can vary as much as 1.5 percent from what is stated on the label, as long as the actual content does not surpass 14 percent, and those above 14 percent are permitted a 1 percent margin of error. Although California has always produced its share of floozies, Napa Cabernets and Merlots generally weren’t as heady in the past. A study led by University of California Davis professor Julian Alston found that sugar levels in California grapes have jumped 9 percent since 1980.
    What accounts for the spike? Climate change is often cited, and it certainly appears to be a factor in other regions. But Alston and his colleagues suggested that the higher sugar levels in California were mainly the result of farming practices. They speculated that different rootstocks and new planting systems may have had a role, and they also raised another possibility: producers harvest riper fruit in order to craft wines that appeal to critics, namely Parker. They noted that the largest sugar increases have been for premium grapes—Cabernet, Merlot, Chardonnay—and in premium areas such as Napa and Sonoma. They wrote that this “could be consistent with a ‘Parker effect’ . . . of wineries responding to market demand and seeking riper-flavored, more intense wines.”
    Parker has wielded extraordinary influence, and his California scores have long indicated a weakness not just for new oak but for ultraripe (read: high alcohol) wines. His words, too. Some years ago he blasted Tim Mondavi, Robert’s son, for making wines that he considered too light and restrained. He accused Mondavi of “going against what Mother Nature has given California” and said that the strength of California wines “lies in power, exuberance, and gloriously ripe fruit.” In 2007 he launched a similar diatribe against California vintner Steve Edmunds. “What Steve is doing appears to be a deliberate attempt to make French-styled wines,” he sneered. “If you want to make French wine, do it in France.” Considering the power of Parker’s ratings, it would stand to reason that many producers took the unsubtle hints and made sure to deliver the kind of wines he favored.
    Parker’s thirst for hedonistic fruit bombs, as he calls them, extends to Pinot Noir. In Burgundy, where Pinot is the signature red grape, the cool northerly climate makes ripeness a challenge, and as a result, the wines tend to be modest in alcohol. But with Parker’s blessing (or prodding), California Pinot has evolved in a very different direction: the wines are often very ripe and lush, with alcohol levels pushing or even topping 15 percent. Echoing Parker, proponents of this style contend that it is a natural expression of California’s sun-splashed terroir and that comparisons with Burgundy are misguided. Apples to oranges, they say.
    There’s some truth to that. It is silly (and unrealistic) to think that California Pinots should taste like red Burgundies, and for diversity’s sake, we shouldn’t want them to taste indistinguishable from Burgundies. But they should at least taste like Pinot Noirs, and the problem with the high-alcohol Pinots is that the varietal character is often extinguished by the overripe fruit—to the point that a lot of these bruisers taste more like Syrah than Pinot. Another problem with the overripe style is that it tends to overwhelm the influence of the vineyard. Pinot is particularly adept at capturing the “voice” of the soil, at conveying terroir —site expression is what Burgundy is all about—and to lose that quality is to lose a big part of what makes Pinot such a great grape.
    But I also recognize that this is an issue that mostly concerns hardened oenophiles and that much of the wine-buying public is not nearly so persnickety when it comes to Pinot