2008 Chester-Kidder Proprietary Red

The Long Shadows 2008 Chester-Kidder is the latest installment of winemaker Gilles Nicault’s personal project (named ,however, for two ancestors of Allen Shoup). A blend of 61% Cabernet Sauvignon, 29% Syrah, 6% Petit Verdot and 4% Cabernet Franc, it fermented with limited pump-overs and forced air cap contact but no punch-downs (the danger with this fruit – particularly Syrah from Candy Mountain, allegedly Washington’s warmest site – is over-extraction, notes Nicault), and spent an amazingly long 30 months in nearly all new barrels (albeit, per Nicault, of “the more delicate sorts”), an approach its author thinks apt for the marriage of Syrah with Bordelais cepages. Polished, even creamy in texture, with its tannins totally tenderized, as is the case with most Long Shadows wines, this also displays seamlessness in terms of its interfacing of varieties – or at least, I can’t pull out many characteristics specific to any one of them. Jellied cassis, dark cherry, and blueberry mingle with milk chocolate, caramel, and vanilla, meaty or mineral tones being largely absent or sublimated ,but a faintly bitter herbal note is, perhaps, a contribution of the Petit Verdot and Cabernet Franc, while a suggestion of black pepper in the finish is surely traceable to Syrah. The most striking thing about this wine beyond its sweet sense of richness and its polished texture is a welcome sense of buoyancy. Nicault envisions it being a 15-year-keeper, which may well be accurate, though I can’t say I envision how it might evolve over such a lengthy period. It would, however, be nice – and far from improbable – if more nuance emerged over the next several years. Allen Shoup’s vision and ambition for Long Shadows – not to mention his financial commitment (banks, he reports, only ever kicked-in 20% of the total investment) – was and remains audacious, and he has clearly lived up to the promise he made to each of the world-renowned vintners whom he invited to craft a wine from Washington State that no expenses would be spared in giving them whatever it was they wanted from Long Shadow’s facilities, as well in extended elevage and leisurely release dates. “They took me up on my word a lot more than I thought they would,” says Shoup with a laugh. Along the way, manifestly talented Gilles Nicault – hired-away from Woodward Canyon in 2003 with the idea that he would be the point man doing the bidding of his much more famous winemaking colleagues – became more of a consultant and confident to them as well as being assigned a label and project of his own under the Long Shadows umbrella; and in 2006 a huge and hugely impressive facility was completed west of Walla Walla to house this unique operation. The number of visits made by each winemaking luminary to taste and tend his project varies, but there is every indication that they all take their aesthetic capital in Long Shadows (in which each also has an ownership share) very seriously. All of the above granted, as inspiring as this project and the participation of such internationally famous talents is – and must be as well for the growers of Washington collectively – those veterans who have set this State’s qualitative benchmarks were not in need of a Long Shadows to learn how or be inspired to render distinctive world class Washington wine. Sources for these projects include the estate vineyard The Benches – formerly Wallula Vineyards, but still managed for the Long Shadows partners by its founders, the Den Hoeds – as well as selected blocks of Boushey, Candy Mountain, Conner Lee, Sagemoor, Stone Tree and Tapteil. I’ve included a few details about the approach behind each of the Long Shadows wines in my notes on their most recent releases below. “If somebody went through these wines and said it was quite clear that they exhibited a common Long Shadows thread,” explains Shoup, “I wouldn’t like that compliment, because what I want is that each of these wines has its own signature.” Generally speaking though, I find a common denominator of extremely sweet, ripe, confitured fruit and surface polish. It also strikes me that the money Shoup and company aren’t sparing on new wood makes for one of their most efficacious but also least well-considered expenses, since many Long Shadow reds are awfully obviously marked by their toasted oak. Incidentally, Shoup and Nicault indicated that with the exception of John Duval (and then only for occasional lots), none of the Long Shadows collaborators believes in adding tartaric acid to their musts. Tel. (509) 526-0905