As the editor of a wine magazine, I receive a lot of invitations for events. Because we're based in Washington's Columbia Valley - more than 200 miles from either Seattle or Portland - I rarely put in an appearance since most events are held where the population lives.
When I was younger and not a father, I thought little of jumping into my car and driving over the Cascades to attend a dinner. Now? Not so much.
But when an invitation from Ste. Michelle Wine Estates arrived via e-mail in September, I replied with an enthusiastic "Yes!" in record time.
The event, to be held Nov. 8 at Northstar Winery south of Walla Walla, was an exclusive, invitation-only comparative tasting of 2004 Northstar Merlot and 2004 Chateau Petrus.
I had never tasted Petrus, considered the most expensive red wine in the world. The storied history of this Bordeaux winery in the Pomerol appellation goes back more than two centuries. It is primarily Merlot, typical of "Right Bank" wines, and though it is not classified (none of Pomerol is), Petrus is considered at least the equal of the coveted First Growths on the Gironde River's Left Bank.
Through the years, Ste. Michelle Wine Estates has put on comparative tastings, usually with members of the trade. The purpose is not always to show whether the Washington wines are equal or even superior to the classic Old World wines but to provide a snapshot that reveals Washington's potential and, just as importantly, its value.
As it so happens, Ste. Michelle wound up with four extra bottles of Petrus after one of these tastings. Rather than handing them out like candy to the winemakers, the sage folks in Woodinville decided to share them with top customers of Northstar and a couple of wine scribes.
My experience with Old World wines is limited at best. I've tasted some Ports (one from 1896), quarter-century-old German Rieslings and a handful of aging Bordeaux. My palate, however, is firmly on the West Coast of the United States. Thus, any opportunity to expand my wine-tasting horizons is welcomed.
Plus, it was Petrus. It costs $850 a bottle, for crying out loud. It is considered by people more knowledgeable than me to be the greatest of the greats. Of course I would attend.
Legend has it that the idea for Northstar was born out of a trip by a troupe of Ste. Michelle winemakers to the Right Bank. According to a story by one participant, the winemakers tasted Petrus, looked at each other and said, "We can do this." (It's a nice tale, though I can't find anyone at Ste. Michelle to corroborate it.)
Regardless, Northstar was created with the intent of crafting the finest expression of Washington Merlot. But how would it fare next to the great Petrus? I planned to find out.
It's about 90 minutes from my house to Northstar. I left two hours before the tasting to give myself time to get lost, something I'm apt to do, even going to a winery I've been to a dozen times.
I arrived in plenty of time. Once inside, I moved to the front of the classroom setting. I did not want to miss out on any details. I found a seat near Paul Gregutt, a friend who writes for The Seattle Times and Wine Enthusiast. He's also been tasting wine a lot longer than me, so I hope to gain some insight from his expertise in Bordeaux.
After a brief talk by David Merfeld, Northstar's winemaker, we began to taste. On the right was the Northstar, retail price $41. On the left was the Petrus, retail price $850. I'd secretly hoped it would be a blind tasting, but Ste. Michelle didn't want it to be quite so formal. That's OK; I could be objective.
First, I sipped the Northstar. It was a generous wine with aromas of violets, black cherries and oak, followed on the palate with lush black fruit, chocolate and firm tannins. It was a great Merlot.
I gazed at the glass of Petrus for a moment, imagining just how good it must be. By my primitive math skills, I figured the red nectar before me should be at least 23 times better than the Northstar - and considering how good that was, my taste buds were aroused.
I swirled the glass gently to release esters. Aromas of moist earth and oak wafted upward. No fruit. Hmm. I pulled a quarter ounce into my mouth and swished it around. Flavors of mushrooms, earth and ... not much else. I swirled harder, concentrated more, then smelled and tasted again.
Nothing.
It wasn't corked, thank goodness. It just was really tight, even though the bottles had been opened three hours prior and decanted. But it got the same treatment as the Northstar - even better, in fact.
I waited awhile, then went through the routine again. A few folks in the room were oohing and ahhing. A few were wondering what all the hype over Petrus was about.
I worked over that glass of Petrus for a good half-hour. I kept going back to the Northstar for comparison. I was finally able to coax the slightest bit of fruit from the Petrus - or maybe it was my imagination. And rather than being 23 times better, in fact the Petrus wasn't even half as good.
Was it my New World palate? Some would argue yes (especially someone who has spent $850 on a bottle of Petrus). I can't argue against that. Was it the youth of the Petrus, which should have been aged longer? Perhaps.
But the bottom line was this: We tasted the world's greatest Merlot, and it was left in the dust by a Washington wine.
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