Another Norton note

This passage is from The Wild Vine by Todd Kliman, whose research into the history of the Norton grape brought him to Stone Hill winery. Kliman relates tasting notes from a dinner with Stone Hill executive Jon Held that included special aged Norton:

The food is good; the wine is even better. His Norton is everything I love in a red wine: It is complex and expressive, with a strong, identifiable character that only being bound so intimately and rigorously to a specific time and place can produce. It tastes like nothing else in the world, except perhaps another Norton. There is the wild earthiness I love, which seems to conceal within it a hundred unknowable mysteries, but it changes over time as we drink it, a living, breathing thing that opens up like a flower to become softer, more supple — a more subtle and interesting wine. (Page 187 of the 2010 paperback version)

Almost as good as Maya's wine-loving speech in Sideways, but lacking her bold finish.

The Stone Hill Norton that I enjoyed recently was a 2008 and not yet quite that heavenly.

Going overboard over Norton

After enjoying the uncompromising qualities of Lindwedel's Norton a few weeks ago, I tasted some 2008 Stone Hill Norton. The astonishingly deep inky color and viscosity blew me away. The flavors were balanced and smoothed into a velvety richness that you wouldn't expect from a California Cab from the same year. Really a worthy accomplishment.

However, I think Stone Hill missed the whole point of Norton. The Lindwedel Norton's massive spice is the birthright of the grape that a Virginia landowner named Norton developed the early 1800s, inspired by Thomas Jefferson's repeat failed attempts to propagate a native North American grape that could rival the wines of Europe. When the spice of Lindwedel's Norton hits your tongue, you are transported nearly two centuries into the past.

By the way, Lindwedel is not the only winery that achieves this transmutation. Native Stone and Baltimore Bend also achieve these results.

In any case, I really enjoyed the Stone Hill Norton, and I discovered that Norton can be paired with many different kinds of food due to the spice. A Cab will go with steak or lamb, but a Norton can also pair with chicken or tofu with spinach and red kidney beans seasoned with cardamom and hot peppers. 

By the way, the references to the 19th century come from my reading of The Wild Vine by Todd Kliman, an experiential history of the Norton grape.

My liquid link to Thomas Jefferson

Thomas Jefferson worked for half a century trying to grow an American grape that would make a wine to rival those of Europe. He failed.

According to Todd Kliman, author of The Wild Vine, it was the only thing that Jefferson failed at. However, his quest lived on in the lives of like-minded, Enlightenment-driven, self-made scientists who trusted that they would understand the order of natural things by their own powers of inquiry.

Daniel Norton, a young contemporary of Jefferson and fellow Virginian, developed the grape that bears his name. It fell in and out of favor through the decades and, just within the past 10-15 years, Missourians got it right, according to me.

[I can't comprehend how Poeschel and Scherer's Norton made such as splash in Vienna in 1873. Was Norton better back then? Europe's wines worse?]

As recently as the mid-90s, my friend and mentor, Bill Toben (God rest his soul), said the quest for a palatable Norton was fruitless. It would always have that "foxy" taste. Somehow, the Missouri Nortons of the past decade have defied Bill's judgment. If anyone knows how it was done, please tell me.

My 11-liter jug of Norton, made of grapes grown by Michael Dennis of Tyler Ridge Vineyards, represents one of the stray shoots from the original vine of inquiry that began with Jefferson's failure. I'm really pleased to see this connection, thanks to Kliman's book.

Of course, my contribution is minimal. Dennis did all the work. I merely added yeast and followed sanitary and anti-oxidation procedures. So far, so good.