Steven Spielmann
Steven Spielmann
Civil discourse is simply good manners, and if that's all you're after, sure, fine.
Dinner with Abe Schoener
- Thread starter Matt Latuchie
- Start date
Florida Jim
Florida Jim
Oddly, my experiences are all over the lot; some with too much alcohol, some with warm weather flavors, some with some really weird flavors that I did not like. But then, some that were well-balanced, captivating and unique.
FWIW.
Best, Jim
Jonathan Loesberg
Jonathan Loesberg
I'd say it's more than good manners. But on a board where it is controversial to claim that arguments ad hominem should be avoided, even civil discourse would be a radical change in policy.
Bill Buitenhuys
Bill Buitenhuys
I tried my first Scholium wine, 2009 Riquewihr Lost Slough Vineyards gewurtz, a few weeks ago. The first glass was ultra ripe lychee, pretty hot, and had this oddly contrasting bitter walnut finish. It was pretty disjointed but at the same time it was unique enough to be somewhat attractive. Put the rest of the 500ml bottle back in the fridge and found it last night, hiding behind the Lillet. Turned into a very pretty wine with much more balance.
abe schoener
abe schoener
I cannot say how happy I am in every respect at this thread. I can hardly believe that wines that I made helped form the occasion and springboard for this kind of discussion. I love it. A long time ago, I was a tutor at St. John's College in Annapolis, MD-- a "tutor" would probably be a professor at any other college or university, but it was explicitly our responsibility to engage in inquiry with the students and not to present ourselves as experts in a position to profess. Thus the name. We spent a lot of time engaged in discussions like this and it makes me sweetly happy that my new way of spending my life can somehow engender some good, really serious discussion.
I am very grateful for this.
I would like to take this occasion to respond to several aspects of the comments on my wine; but first I want to thank Matt for organizing this event, for organizing the first event, and most of all, for welcoming me into his very convivial and rigorously serious group. What a pleasure the evening was-- and somehow no surprise that it led to spirited and and unfrivolous discussion.
SPOOF:
Robert Dentice knows my wines well and what he says is true. they have high alcohol in common with many wines that one might call "spoofilated," but there is not much spoofing going on in the winery. Even when we make water additions (more on that below), we do not balance the high pH water with additions of tartaric acid. Why? water is bad enough, but at least it does not come out of a big bag manufactured very far away, and its form is clear and transparent, rather than bleached white and sharply granular. I drink our water at the winery, drink a lot f it during harvest, but I cannot imagine happily ingesting even a pinch of tartaric acid. In other words, it is a purely aesthetic judgment, perhaps more akin to a decision about what kind of people you want to hang around with or what kind of clothes you want to wear, rather than one based on some clearly articulable principle. We add two things to the grapes that we bring into the winery: water and sulfuric acid. Nothing else. We use very little new oak-- the last time that we bought any was 2008. Since 2005, the only wines to get new oak have been the prince (until 2010) and androkteinos (until 2009).
ALCOHOL:
Guilty as charged. I made a decision a few years ago to be punctiliously accurate in my alcohol labeling (I have recently gone to 2 decimal places). As you well know, many wineries are not so accurate. I cannot tell you how often I show the wine to a professional who tastes, looks at the label, and then gazes at me in surprise. "No way! 16%? I don't feel it." I could escape some oppobrium by hiding behind 14.5 or even 15.5. But that would not be fair to people who make a study of these numbers, and it would be very unfair to normal human beings who might want to avoid consuming a certain amount of wine at 17%. Or who might want to figure out why Scholium gave them a headache, but Muscadet does not. In other words-- I do not claim that my high alcohol levels are not perceptible. Even if in some wines, some people do not taste or feel the alcohol, in other wines, some or other people will. And everyone will get intoxicated at a different rate than they would have with lower alcohol wines. And they will sense that difference.
I do hope that all or most of the alcohol levels are in balance-- and that they are imperceptible in this precise sense. I agree with what Mike Klein said-- in a certain sense, the wines are "too much everything." More on that below-- but my hope is that in these large-framed and powerful wines, alcohol does not stand out but is part of a balanced, complex, and proportional whole.
Aristotle makes a good point that size, and not just proportion, shape, arrangement, are part of beauty. Something the wrong size cannot be beautiful-- a colossal statue can amaze, but not elicit the same reaction that a beautiful face can. I hate the possibility that my wines are just too big to be beautiful (and cling to the hope that if they are, they are still balanced, complex, well-articulated)-- but I recognize that possibility and react with understanding when others pronounce it.
CALIFORNIA:
I use "Calfornia" as the only appelation on all of my wines, whether they come from Napa or Lodi. There are many reasons for this; one of them is that California is a truly magical place, an amazing entity with mythological structure to it. I use the appelation because by it, I mean: the wines come from the World of California, a world that contains Death Valley and Hollywood and the Redwoods, and not just a bunch of different wine appelations. And part of both its mythological structure and its merely factual flesh, is that California is sunny. And warm, if not hot. These wines are from a place marked by warmth and solar radiation. Their high alcohol content is both a true and kind of mythical expression of their terroir. I certainly do not mean that it is not possible to make anything other than high-alcohol wines in California, nor do I mean, or even mean to suggest, that lower alcohol wines made from the same vineyards that I work from express the terroir of their origin less completely or faithfully or accurately. That is clearly not true-- in a certain sense, any picking decision at all expresses terroir. Even making flabby wines in warm regions accurately expresses the relationship between the growing conditions and the physiology of the vine and grape-- and that relationship is surely one of the things we are thinking of we when we appeal to (or seek) terroir.
I should say that I neither set out to make high alcohol wines nor do I avoid it. (Robert quite rightly points out that the wines that I make from grapes grown in NY never exceed 13.5% and often clock in in the 12s. I could have chaptalized or concentrated those wines if I was looking for a certain level of alcohol.) Nor am I aiming for tropical flavors. I make picking decision when I feel that the flavors in the grape are as striking and developed as they are going to get. Even though I do not add acid, I do not worry about acidity in the vineyard. I do with the finished wines-- and when I find that finished wines have the flavor that I wanted, but not the acidity, then I look for another vineyard, or bring in another technique to support the structure of the finished wine (e.g. partial skin fermentation in whites to introduce structure from tannin; acetic acid formation in any wine to supplement insufficient levels of tartaric or malic acid). I almost always add water when I fear that the fermentation will not finish; in most cases, I then water back to a target alcohol of 16.5%-- still very high. One hates to add water, even at the beginning of fermentation. Even if it does not dilute flavors much, it can raise the pH substantially.
Why do I not revise my strategies? Precisely because I think that our wines express our vineyards (and their home in the World of Califonia) both perfectly and strikingly. I hesitate to say "beautifully," but perhaps they are beautiful representations of a very hot, sunny, dry place too. Once again, I would never claim that these are the only kinds of wines one can or should make here. They are a certain kind of wine. I have chosen intensity and extreme development of flavor over elegance and perhaps beauty. I have chosen "striking" over quiet and modest. I hope that all of the wines are still subtle; and I do not think that they shout. But they are large and in your face.
DO I THINK THAT PEOPLE SHOULD LIKE THESE WINES:
Clearly I do not think that every one or even any particular person (like Mike) should like the wines. I do hope very much that some people really like them-- not just find them interesting or provocative, but find them sources of more fleshy pleasure than that. I hope that some people become fond of them and long for them. But I cannot imagine that many of the would play a regular role in anyone's life. I drink hardly any of them frequently-- most of them are too much. Too big, too powerful, too insistent-- they sweep other things off the table. But these for me are not faults; they can even endear the wines to me. Even their brutishness is a kind of charm. But as much as they are honest and serious, and even interesting reflections of California, if they did not give pleasure, I would give up. Happily. And go back to Homer.
I hope that I have not gone on too long and that you will accept the excellence of this forum as a goad to express myself fully.
I am very grateful for this.
I would like to take this occasion to respond to several aspects of the comments on my wine; but first I want to thank Matt for organizing this event, for organizing the first event, and most of all, for welcoming me into his very convivial and rigorously serious group. What a pleasure the evening was-- and somehow no surprise that it led to spirited and and unfrivolous discussion.
SPOOF:
Robert Dentice knows my wines well and what he says is true. they have high alcohol in common with many wines that one might call "spoofilated," but there is not much spoofing going on in the winery. Even when we make water additions (more on that below), we do not balance the high pH water with additions of tartaric acid. Why? water is bad enough, but at least it does not come out of a big bag manufactured very far away, and its form is clear and transparent, rather than bleached white and sharply granular. I drink our water at the winery, drink a lot f it during harvest, but I cannot imagine happily ingesting even a pinch of tartaric acid. In other words, it is a purely aesthetic judgment, perhaps more akin to a decision about what kind of people you want to hang around with or what kind of clothes you want to wear, rather than one based on some clearly articulable principle. We add two things to the grapes that we bring into the winery: water and sulfuric acid. Nothing else. We use very little new oak-- the last time that we bought any was 2008. Since 2005, the only wines to get new oak have been the prince (until 2010) and androkteinos (until 2009).
ALCOHOL:
Guilty as charged. I made a decision a few years ago to be punctiliously accurate in my alcohol labeling (I have recently gone to 2 decimal places). As you well know, many wineries are not so accurate. I cannot tell you how often I show the wine to a professional who tastes, looks at the label, and then gazes at me in surprise. "No way! 16%? I don't feel it." I could escape some oppobrium by hiding behind 14.5 or even 15.5. But that would not be fair to people who make a study of these numbers, and it would be very unfair to normal human beings who might want to avoid consuming a certain amount of wine at 17%. Or who might want to figure out why Scholium gave them a headache, but Muscadet does not. In other words-- I do not claim that my high alcohol levels are not perceptible. Even if in some wines, some people do not taste or feel the alcohol, in other wines, some or other people will. And everyone will get intoxicated at a different rate than they would have with lower alcohol wines. And they will sense that difference.
I do hope that all or most of the alcohol levels are in balance-- and that they are imperceptible in this precise sense. I agree with what Mike Klein said-- in a certain sense, the wines are "too much everything." More on that below-- but my hope is that in these large-framed and powerful wines, alcohol does not stand out but is part of a balanced, complex, and proportional whole.
Aristotle makes a good point that size, and not just proportion, shape, arrangement, are part of beauty. Something the wrong size cannot be beautiful-- a colossal statue can amaze, but not elicit the same reaction that a beautiful face can. I hate the possibility that my wines are just too big to be beautiful (and cling to the hope that if they are, they are still balanced, complex, well-articulated)-- but I recognize that possibility and react with understanding when others pronounce it.
CALIFORNIA:
I use "Calfornia" as the only appelation on all of my wines, whether they come from Napa or Lodi. There are many reasons for this; one of them is that California is a truly magical place, an amazing entity with mythological structure to it. I use the appelation because by it, I mean: the wines come from the World of California, a world that contains Death Valley and Hollywood and the Redwoods, and not just a bunch of different wine appelations. And part of both its mythological structure and its merely factual flesh, is that California is sunny. And warm, if not hot. These wines are from a place marked by warmth and solar radiation. Their high alcohol content is both a true and kind of mythical expression of their terroir. I certainly do not mean that it is not possible to make anything other than high-alcohol wines in California, nor do I mean, or even mean to suggest, that lower alcohol wines made from the same vineyards that I work from express the terroir of their origin less completely or faithfully or accurately. That is clearly not true-- in a certain sense, any picking decision at all expresses terroir. Even making flabby wines in warm regions accurately expresses the relationship between the growing conditions and the physiology of the vine and grape-- and that relationship is surely one of the things we are thinking of we when we appeal to (or seek) terroir.
I should say that I neither set out to make high alcohol wines nor do I avoid it. (Robert quite rightly points out that the wines that I make from grapes grown in NY never exceed 13.5% and often clock in in the 12s. I could have chaptalized or concentrated those wines if I was looking for a certain level of alcohol.) Nor am I aiming for tropical flavors. I make picking decision when I feel that the flavors in the grape are as striking and developed as they are going to get. Even though I do not add acid, I do not worry about acidity in the vineyard. I do with the finished wines-- and when I find that finished wines have the flavor that I wanted, but not the acidity, then I look for another vineyard, or bring in another technique to support the structure of the finished wine (e.g. partial skin fermentation in whites to introduce structure from tannin; acetic acid formation in any wine to supplement insufficient levels of tartaric or malic acid). I almost always add water when I fear that the fermentation will not finish; in most cases, I then water back to a target alcohol of 16.5%-- still very high. One hates to add water, even at the beginning of fermentation. Even if it does not dilute flavors much, it can raise the pH substantially.
Why do I not revise my strategies? Precisely because I think that our wines express our vineyards (and their home in the World of Califonia) both perfectly and strikingly. I hesitate to say "beautifully," but perhaps they are beautiful representations of a very hot, sunny, dry place too. Once again, I would never claim that these are the only kinds of wines one can or should make here. They are a certain kind of wine. I have chosen intensity and extreme development of flavor over elegance and perhaps beauty. I have chosen "striking" over quiet and modest. I hope that all of the wines are still subtle; and I do not think that they shout. But they are large and in your face.
DO I THINK THAT PEOPLE SHOULD LIKE THESE WINES:
Clearly I do not think that every one or even any particular person (like Mike) should like the wines. I do hope very much that some people really like them-- not just find them interesting or provocative, but find them sources of more fleshy pleasure than that. I hope that some people become fond of them and long for them. But I cannot imagine that many of the would play a regular role in anyone's life. I drink hardly any of them frequently-- most of them are too much. Too big, too powerful, too insistent-- they sweep other things off the table. But these for me are not faults; they can even endear the wines to me. Even their brutishness is a kind of charm. But as much as they are honest and serious, and even interesting reflections of California, if they did not give pleasure, I would give up. Happily. And go back to Homer.
I hope that I have not gone on too long and that you will accept the excellence of this forum as a goad to express myself fully.
scottreiner
scott reiner
well written. now i too want to hang out with abe...
Florida Jim
Florida Jim
'Lots of reasons that I got into this stuff; Abe's take is certainly one of them.
Best, Jim
John Donaghue
John Donaghue
I've only tasted Scholium once or twice and have no opinion on the wine, but that was a pleasure to read.
Oswaldo Costa
Oswaldo Costa
The folks at Marcassin would benefit from some attitudinal tutoring by Abe.
abe schoener
abe schoener
I am still working on the business model. Some of the grapes are insanely inexpensive by Napa standards. But two of the best vineyards register as the most expensive SB in California (at $2850/ton for Prince and LSB), and often the most expensive Chard (at $10,000/ton for Sylphs). And all of our production methods are expensive and inefficient. And of course, we have to pay the round the clock internet marketing staff.
I wish I worked in an ivory tower.
I guess I'm just susceptible to his smooth talkin', but I can imagine that someone like Abe also has an artistic/personal incentive to participate in discussions where people are debating the merits of his product.
It certainly didn't strike me as a clever marketing pitch. Especially the part where he said he can't drink his wines very often. But maybe that was the hook intended to reel us in.
Regardless, I have found this thread very interesting although it does not motivate me to spend money on the wines. Perhaps if they were cheaper.
Tom Glasgow
Thomas W Glasgow
There's a number of wines in the $20 to $45 range.
I highly recommend outsourcing to Sock-Puppets-R-Us. You can take your pick from redneck simian, artisanal investment bankers and pedantic professors. There's also an international option but the British hacks typically ask for private jets.
The campaign tone can also be calibrated, from false humility all the way to Turbo Turley (where you get a second, even more ego-driven voice for free).