In December I spent a week and a half in Chile as a guest of Wines of Chile, visiting wineries in half a dozen regions. This visit, I had a couple of items on my agenda: I wanted to see a couple of the emerging wine regions, and I wanted to taste a lot of Carmenère, a grape variety that's emerging as Chile's signature grape, just as Australia has Shiraz and California has Zinfandel.
I was lucky enough to spend three days in the developing Casablanca and Leyda regions near the Pacific coast, where the climate is much cooler than the Central Valley, where most of Chile's grapes grow. A number of wineries in these cool areas are producing beautiful Sauvignon Blancs and Pinot Noirs, and also excellent Chardonnays and (surprisingly) Merlots.
Elsewhere, in warmer regions, producers are planting vines higher and higher on the foothills of the mountains where it's cooler than the valley floor. At one winery I visited, the owner drove up bone-rattling tracks in his Jeep, punctuating unnerving conversations on his cell phone with shouts of "Let's go! Let's go!" and "Second floor! Going to the third!" The "top floor" of his vineyard is 1,000 metres above the valley.
A trend to watch is the emergence of a layer of high-quality Chilean wines that are pitched between the entry-level wines that deliver such good value in the $9 to $12 range, and the icon wines that cost more than $50. It's a bit of a struggle, because consumers think of Chile as a producer of inexpensive wines, and there's some resistance to prices around $20. Two very good Cabernet Sauvignons in the LCBO are breaking the ice, though: the Cousino-Macul reviewed today and Errazuriz Don Max ($18, LCBO No. 335174).
Then there's Carmenère, a grape variety originally from Bordeaux that needs a very long growing season to ripen properly. Carmenère wasn't replanted when the Bordeaux vineyards were re-established after the phylloxera epidemic in the 1860s to 1880s. Carmenère vines from Bordeaux had been planted in Chile before phylloxera hit France, but it wasn't until the 1990s that they were identified. Until then, everyone thought they were a late-ripening clone of Merlot. Now, most wineries have separated their Merlot and Carmenère vines, but it's had far-reaching effects. Carmenère is like Merlot on steroids: it's big, spicy and powerful, but a bit short on acidity. Once the Carmenère disappeared from Chilean Merlot, the Merlot was different, and winemakers have had to adjust.
Second, growers are still identifying sites where Carmenère will grow well, because if the growing season isn't long enough it has green notes. Also, winemakers are still working out the best way of vinifying Carmenère. Most argue that it needs to be blended with other varieties to give it structure.
It's a challenge, getting Chile recognized for the quality of its full range of wines. One problem is that, unlike new world regions like California (warmth and hedonism), Australia and South Africa (warmth and animals), Chile doesn't evoke an image abroad. The Andes don't resonate with wine, and llamas don't seem as popular as koalas and roos. There's the ongoing saga of former dictator Pinochet, of course, but although his name might sound like a member of the Pinot grape family, it's not an association you'd want.
Four Chilean wines today, all very good value for quality.