A Rare Hybrid

Driving from North Texas to Southeast Oklahoma, there is little change in the terrain. Eventually, Choctaw casinos and low, rocky, Oak-strewn hills grow out of the grasslands. There, on the verge of this gentle transition in topography – in the middle of Choctaw territory – rests the oldest, quiet little winery in Oklahoma.

Cimarron Cellars, now twenty-six years old (ancient by Oklahoma standards), grows very few of its own grapes. The vineyards that inspired the first Oklahoma winery were sold off long ago. But the winery still exists and makes some of the best wine in Oklahoma, much of its wine from local grapes. They have a wide variety of wines, many of them with charming local names like "Sooner Red" and "Cowboy Cabernet." They also have wines made of rare varieties, and the name on the bottles austerely states the grape variety. The wine that I will expound upon is one of the latter – the Vignoles.

You are probably asking, as I did, what the hell is a Vignole? Well, Le Vignole is an obscure island in the Adriatic Sea – completely unrelated to the grape variety, Vignoles, as far as my research finds. Vignoles, the grape, is a rare and complex hybrid also known by the name Ravat, which it inherited from its creator, J.F. Ravat. It is found in very few areas, most notably the Finger Lakes region of New York and in Missouri, along the Missouri River.

Usually, grapes are rare because they are unpleasant to eat or they make terrible wine. However, after imbibing some Vignoles wine, I was pleasantly surprised. Like most white wine, it is best served chilled. Immediately after it is poured into the glass, it has little smell. However, as it warms, it emits a light scent of flowers and sour apples. A sip really draws out the sour apples, and also gives a hint of pineapple. A mouthful brings out its true sweetness with a light sourness on the tongue. The aftertaste is warm and sweet, but with a hint of butter.

The wine is incomparable to another semi-sweet wine. Its effect on the palate is pleasant, but different. If you are fortunate enough to find yourself exploring the wine regions of Oklahoma or Missouri, I certainly recommend trying a Vignoles wine.

An Exploration of A New Wine World

Introduction

It seems that so many aspects of life have the natural force to come full-circle. A young boy leaves home because he finds it boring and sees little opportunity in the area. He travels the world, quenching his thirst for experience and beauty, only to return to his home and see it through new eyes. Then his home is full of rare beauty unbeknownst to the rest of the worst and a multitude of opportunities waiting to be cultivated.

I recently returned to my home state of Oklahoma and found, much to my delight, that there are now over fifty wineries across the state. The industry there is uncoordinated, fledgling and disparate, but a great diversity of grapes – it turns out – grow well and some great wines are made in Oklahoma.

My wife and I, forsaking filial duties for a couple of days during this Thanksgiving vacation, toured ten wineries throughout the state and picked our favorite wine from each location. The next series of wine blogs will document those ten wines.

Stone Bluff

About fifteen miles southeast of Tulsa, Oklahoma, atop rolling hills overlooking the Arkansas River valley, sits the Stone Bluff winery. Named after the small community about two miles away, this winery just had its ten year anniversary, making it one of the oldest wineries in Oklahoma.

Its owners take great pride in their knowledge of wine culture. They admit that Oklahoma wines are much younger than those of other states, they also humbly tell you that they know very little of the great wines of the world – but this winery has a culture and class all its own. From its brass countertops to its wood corks to its simple, clean labels, one is filled with a sense of satisfaction immediately upon entering the winery's tasting room.

The owners will greet you with a smile and mildly wait for you to ask for a tasting, at which point they will inform you that you may try four wines for three dollars – a charge that is retracted if you should purchase a wine. The deal seems fair, but once you try a wine, you realize that you got the better end of the bargain. At Stone Bluff, there is a wine for everyone.

The winery makes a great deal of its wines from its own grapes. Two such wines, which are worthy of mention, are the Cynthiana and the Viognier. Those were the wines that we decided to buy, after much deliberation. Their wines range from very dry reds to very sweet blushes and whites, and they even have a very nice port.

The first wine of theirs that I will tell you about is the Cynthiana. The Cynthiana, also known as the Norton, is a native American grape, which grows primarily in the Southeast, and is cultivated there for its resilience to disease, but also flourishes in the drier regions of Oklahoma and Texas.

It is a very unique grape, making it difficult to compare to any other grape you might have tried before. At first whiff, you will get a strong sense of cranberry recently harvested from the bush along with a hint of alcoholic spiciness. The smell, though unfamiliar, is quite intriguing. You just let it hit your lips – and again, that cranberry overture! It is sour and warm and sweet, with a bitterness that tugs at the tongue and spiciness that tickles the inside of your cheeks. Swish it around in your mouth and take a gulp – now there is a hint of something familiar, that warming sense of Merlot or the sweet, easiness of the Pinot Noir. But the aftertaste pulls you back – this is something new altogether.

A full glass later, your stomach is filled with the warm, fullness that it gets after a Bloody Mary. Your mouth may purse and tingle some from the cranberry taste that still lingers. All you can do is shake your head and smile – it is a taste unlike any other and quite fine once acquired.

A warning, however. Do not take the Cynthiana lightly. There are so many nice wines at this winery – the Terre Rouge and V, just to name a couple – that, if you enjoy easier, more mainstream wines like my mother, you might want to try those first. The Cynthiana, while lovely, is for more experienced wine-drinkers on a quest for the exotic.

The Frankenstein Grape

Powerful and complex, lording its dominion over an entire region – there is, in fact, only one grape from South America which I adore. It was transported from the Old World in the 19th century – nearly dead, amputated from its mother vine, a young sapling traveled across the Atlantic, wrapped in a damp cloth by its loving protector, an old Argentine agriculturalist. The sapling, desirous of more dry sunlight and warmth than its native Bordeaux could provide, thrived after taking root in Argentine soil.

The sapling grew into a powerful, twisted vine; and the farmer spread this forefather vine across his new vineyard. The vine flourished, living a quiet country life in Mendoza Valley for decades. It rarely gained any fame outside of its new homeland. But when an early frost decimated its European cousins, pushing its family into near-extinction in the 1950s, the quiet Argentine grape grew in importance. It was a surviving remnant of one of the first six varietals of Bordeaux wine, after all – it was descended from royalty.

Over the past fifty years, this grape – the Malbec – has soared in popularity. It's sweet, plum-like smell, combined with a tart and robust taste, make this dark red beauty an immediate favorite among wine-appreciatives. The Argentine grape, while embodying that warm, rich sensation given by wines of the Bordeaux peninsula also brings a unique dry tartness, much like a Spanish Rioja. It is either a unique adaptation to the New World or a fortuitous preserve of an Old World grape which now thrives in Argentina.

Photo: Catena 2007 Malbec from Argentina