My love affair with Carignane

Over the years we’ve experienced many Open That Bottle Nights, but when we found this bottle at a fundraiser for the Honolulu Museum of Art last month, we knew it’d be perfect for an upcoming celebration with Northern California friends.

These friends not only know wine; they knew Lytton Springs even before it was acquired by Ridge. They also knew about one of our favorite tasting room hosts from years ago, and the story of why I had to grab this particular bottle. Curious? I invite you to read on…

First, about this host. Let’s just say she enjoyed her job. When you approached the tasting room bar, she’d ask, “How many will be tasting?” and when you replied (for example), “Four,” she’d take out five glasses, and join you. I guess enough years have passed by now that I can mention that by late afternoon, she was having trouble tallying up your tab.

”It’s these reading glasses!” she’d say, and then ask if you could kindly help with the math.

Despite said proclivities (or perhaps because of them), we loved her, and appreciated her knowledge and insights regarding their wines. I will never forget an afternoon when we were huddled at the bar in their dark barrel room, tasting several zinfandels, and for some reason, one in particular hit my palate just right.

When I mentioned this, her eyes lit up, she glanced around to ensure no other staff was looking, and then reached under the bar and brought out a bottle that she practically hugged before pulling out the cork.

”Try this,” I remember her saying as she poured a glass for me…and herself, of course. She took a sip, and soon this look of absolute rapture lit up her face. I had a taste as well, and immediately exclaimed, “This is it! This is what I tasted in that zin! What is it?”

”100% Carignane,” she purred savoringly. “It’s typically used for blending, but they occasionally bottle it as a varietal, and I love it.”

”This is…me,” was all I could say, before buying a few bottles. That was my first introduction to the Carignane grape (sometimes spelled Carignan), and I only rarely find it bottled as a varietal. When I do, I can’t resist buying some to sample. Some wineries do it right, but others unfortunately don’t quite get it.

Alas, not everyone shares my obsession with Carignane, and that’s okay. To each his (or her) own. That said, I’m hoping the 9% Carignane in this 2017 Zinfandel will speak up clearly enough in the blend to be heard. Or tasted, as the case may be. We will find out soon enough — isn’t it wonderful when old friends can get together again?