Before the 20th century, there was wine. There wasn’t the widespread consensus there is now regarding the inherent value of the “shock of the new.” For survival as well as sanity, life was more about preservation than surprise. Innovation came gradually, according to necessity.

These days there is more and more emphasis on a conscious return to “traditional” or “natural” methods. Younger vintners (and importers, and sommeliers, and writers), seeking to counter the technologization of wine spearheaded by the eager beavers at UC-Davis, have sought to make and promote wines that would be recognized by our pre-Industrial Revolution forefathers.

I love exploring funky, obscure, boundary-challenging wines. But I appreciate the moments when I encounter something so utterly classic, a reminder of the value of the-way-it’s-always-been-done.

These four wines emerge out of iconic grape varietals, all of which have become “international” in presence though they were at one point native to certain specific places on the globe.

They don’t break new ground. Their only messages are from an almost Asian sphere of pure taste, pure expression of land.

They’re old-fangled, and in a way, radical for it.

Conte Brandolini D’Adda Pinot Grigio 2011 ($14, SoPo). Ah, if only more Pinot Grigio came through like this one from Friuli, in far northeastern Italy. Its aromas and flavors of pear, Macoun apple and dried apricot are so clean and razor-sharp, it will put anyone off fruit-salad-style PG forever.

Whereas so much PG is practically body-less and watery, the Conte Brandolini has a voluptuous but honed body, laced with salt and a cracker-like crunch. Balance and dimension in a sub-$15 Pinot Grigio? Yes.

Nuova Cappelletta Chardonnay 2010 ($13, Pine State). Another white wine from northern Italy; what’s that telling you? This is from Piemonte, land of the great red wines of Barolo and Barbaresco. Because those wines, from the Nebbiolo grape, are so taut and light-bodied when young, I expected this unoaked Chardonnay (from biodynamically farmed and organically grown grapes) to be hard as nails.

It’s not. It’s surprisingly opulent and silky, though packed with mineral elements and carrying a bracing lemon-oil finish. Though worlds away from a creamy, custardy-brioche modern Chardonnay, it shares some of the caramel and brown-butter notes that so many people love. This much fascinating interplay between invigoration and luxury, and between fruit and earth, at this price, ought to put 95 percent of California to shame.

Chateau Gueyrosse St. Emilion Grand Cru 2002 ($27, Wicked). But no one’s really drinking Bordeaux because it’s stodgy, corporate, price-jacked by the Chinese, and boring. Well, that’s true. And also: false. It may be hard to find good inexpensive Bordeaux, but I would put the Gueyrosse up against the majority of great California wines costing twice or thrice this much.

St. Emilion is on Bordeaux’s “right bank,” which is planted mostly to Merlot. The Gueyrosse has 12 percent Cabernet Franc and 3 percent Cabernet Sauvignon, but it’s mostly a paean to the glories of naturally farmed, assiduously pruned, handmade and unfiltered Merlot. It’s so delicate your heart breaks a little. Those classic, why-did-we-have-to-go-and-invent-the-combustible-engine-and-change-anything flavors of cedar, leather, cocoa and anise are here, fervent reminders of the virtues of the old ways. The body of this 10-year-old wine is so delicate, you’ll just curl up and purr.

Donati Family Vineyard Paicines Cabernet Sauvignon 2008 ($20, Wicked). I love what’s happening with Cabernet Sauvignon in California. After decades of over-ripening and over-extracting, a new (ironically) generation of vintners is recalling the days when Napa Cabs hovered at 13 percent alcohol and remembered that they owed a debt to their grandfathers still growing Bordeaux.

This isn’t happening only in Napa Valley. Paicines is 27 miles inland of Monterey, on California’s Central Coast. This 14.3 percent-alcohol, old-school Cab takes you back to the good ol’ days, but I’ve tasted the Donati with plenty of people who “love a big, juicy Cab” and can’t get enough of it. It’s definitely ripe, but balanced and not overpowering, not teeth-blackening. Flavors of cedar and fresh tobacco back up tart blackberries and blueberries. To borrow a line from another place on the planet that tries to stay true to its roots, this is Cabernet the way it oughta be.

Joe Appel works at Rosemont Market. His blog, soulofwine.com, continues the conversation, and he can be reached at:

soulofwine.appel@gmail.com.

 

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