Christian Miller of Full Glass Research presents new survey findings on what sustainable wine means to consumers.  Ted Farthing, executive director of the Oregon Wine Board, launches the new Oregon Certified Sustainable program, and Oregon winemakers discuss challenges and opportunities that lie ahead.

Click here for the Audio File.

Statistics (a.k.a. Ag Stats Reports)

Oregon Vineyard & Winery Report 2007 (pdf)

Oregon Vineyard & Winery Report 2006 (pdf)

Oregon Vineyard & Winery Report 2005 (pdf)

Oregon Vineyard & Winery Report 2004 (pdf)

Oregon Vineyard & Winery Report 2003 (pdf)

Oregon Vineyard & Winery Report 2002 (pdf)

Oregon Vineyard & Winery Report 1992-2002 (pdf)

Industry Facts

Considering a Trip to Oregon Wine Country? The Know Before You Go… (pdf)

The Economic Impact of the Wine and Wine Grape Industries on the Oregon Economy 2006 (pdf)

Oregon Wine Quick Facts 1995-2006 (pdf)

Oregon Wine Fact Sheet 2007 (pdf)

Oregon History & Timeline (pdf)

Press Releases

May 2008

Core Wine Consumers Interested in Sustainable Wines, But Find They are Not Always Clearly Marked, Available  (word)

February 2008

Oregon Wine Industry Awards Recognize Luminaries for Their Contributions to the Industry (word)

July 2007
Wine Industry’s First Online Tool to Buy Oregon Wine & Plan Trip to Wine Country (word)

November 2006
Wine Board Initiates National, International Marketing Study (word)

September 28, 2006
VINEA Members Join LIVE to Pursue Certification for Sustainable Vineyeards (word)

June 29, 2006
A Visit to Oregon Wine Country is Now Just a Click Away (word)

January 31, 2006
Oregon Wine and Wine Grape Industries Powerful Source of State Economic Activity (word)

Harvest Reports

2008 Oregon Harvest Report - Late start and extended cool growing season gave way to dry, mild conditions at harvest; lower yields deliver mature, complex flavors that have growers and winemakers thrilled with potential of vintage (pdf)
Listen to the teleconference here.

2007 Oregon Harvest Report - Weather presented real challenges, but diligent farming and skillful winemaking will result in many high quality, lower alcohol wines (pdf)

2006 Oregon Harvest Report - Plentiful yields combined with mature flavors will increase consumer access to quality Oregon wine (pdf)

2005 Oregon Harvest Report - Cooler temperatures and lower alcohol levels mark a return to a more classic Oregon vintage (word)

Doug Tunnell and I were out on The Deschutes River last summer. One of the things we talked about was the words and phrases the French often use to describe their new wines that stir consumers to buy. Below is a tongue-in-cheek description of a few. Add your own if this sounds familiar.

We periodically hear that a particular offering is a “vin de garde.” The term connoted a bottle aging gracefully to reach perfection in years to come. It is also true that this can mean hard, unyielding wine with high acidity or tannin — or both — and shallow fruit. As I look back, this term seems to have been designed to sell wine now with no recriminations for 20 years, while the wine is sleeping. Buyer beware. 1988 red burgundies were widely touted as “vin de garde”. I have been “garde”ing some of these for nearing 20 years. Many are still hard, sour, and shallow.

The 1978 Bordeaux were described as “miracle” wines. The term connotes “magic” wines of outstanding quality. In the 30 years since, it is clear that the “miracle” of 1978 was the such negative conditions during the growing season provided even decent wines. Be wary of “miracles”.

A number of vintages and wines have been described as “classique”. When I think of a “classic”, I am reminded of something that has stood the test of time and stands out from the crowd. A number of the “classique” burgundies I have drunk were just the reverse of this. Run of the mill wines that were made just as badly as predecessors were made 40 years before. The term can create a “classic” case of over promise and under-delivery.

Over the years many wines have been described as “rustique”. Be careful when you see this description. We Americans prized rugged individuality, and “rustic” can connote this. It can also connote old-style honesty or a “diamond in the rough”. When used to describe French wine, it usually indicates a flawed wine with off smells and tastes akin to barnyard.

Similar to “rustique” is “animale”. This description can connote raw power. It is designed to do just that. But remember: “animale” also encompasses wet cat hair and cow manure! These mental pictures are quite different from raw power!

Now and then I have seen “petillante” used to describe a wine. More than once, I have thought this was an attempt to describe a charming wine that had many good points, but was just too immature to drink in the near future. Now, when I see the term, I envision a wine with some flaw that may — or may not — abate in the future.

A final term for this rant is “grippe”. Most veteran tasters — especially of pinot noir wines — know that great wines need to make a strong mid-palate impression. “Grippe” is the word used to sell a wine’s correct structure of fruit, tannin and acidity. All too often, what “grips” us is the imbalance of tannin and acidity that is present. When you read about “grippe”, grip your wallet. If the wine really does have “grippe” it will cost you dearly! If it doesn’t have “grippe” you will pay less — but still too much given the wine itself. To paraphrase another expression “there is no free ‘grippe’.”

Paul Fortino

The 2005 Burgundies were touted as wines from a vintage that comes along maybe once in a decade, possibly two or three times in a century. Prices rose to unbelievable levels. Retailers were given smaller allocations than earlier years. Now, most of the 2005s have sold through to distribution, and we hear little of it. But oh, the glorious 2006s!

Which gets me to the point of this rant. I have now followed Burgundy introductions for over 30 years. In that time, I recall 12 “vintages of the century” (1969, 1978, 1983, 1985, 1990, 1993, 1995, 1996, 1999, 2002 and 2005). Each in its turn was touted as better than anything before it. I, for one, bought the hype almost every time. Each vintage was, in fact, very good, but I noticed that once a vintage was safely in my cellar, the newest vintage (the one currently for sale) was described as even better.

I am not against selling. It makes the world go round. But, after watching it for 30 years, I am very wary of hysterical type. You should be too.

Paul Fortino

While I am as much as a palate geek as the rest of those who purchase a bottle of juice - for me, wine is about relationships - forming them with the folks who make the wine and ultimately with the folks with whom you will share this wine. Buying wine is not about collecting and obtaining a trophy. Nor is it about hoarding away a secret cache of bottles so that they can gather dust and ultimately be forgotten. Reading through my wine notes, I do not find some perfectly written scored analysis of wines consumed, but instead, a journal of where I was and with whom I shared the wine. In short - for me, wine is about memories.

About a 1996 bottle of Alsatian Riesling: “Had with Dad to toast a long, late night of lowering the water level in the basement, courtesy of Hurricane Floyd, including the three inches in the wine cellar. Probably served this a bit too warm - with the power out for three days, the cellar went up to its ambient temperature of 63 degrees. Not blown away as I expected to be. Elegant. Long, rich, but not sweet. Let the other two be. (9/99).” Although eight years ago, I remember drinking this with my father as if it were yesterday.

This one having to do with a massive bottle of Champagne that we opened at my second daughter’s naming party: “A big bottle for a beautiful little girl. Cork came out with a loud “pop!” and George H. hoisted the bottle up to pour in to pitchers. Sunny day, 73 friends and family. Beautiful wine, aged, toasty and waxy. (6/02).”

And also a note about an old “off” year bottle of Bordeaux that I saved to have with a close friend. “What can I write? While Dad probably has a few more of these tucked away, I finally opened my last bottle with Henry, Kiddy, Mike and Jerri. A while ago when Mike heard that I had opened a bottle of this, he thought it “bold.” That comment struck me and I decided to save this last bottle for a dinner with him. With the introductory history of the sad storage of these bottles, and apologies for problems that, in light of the last few bottles, were almost certain to manifest themselves, I went down to the cellar and decanted this last bottle. Upon pouring - thought I saw a brown color. Damn. I smelled the wine though and it was not bad. Brought the decanter upstairs and realized not brown, but tawny. In the glass opened beautifully to allow Mike to exclaim “that’s Laffite through and through!” This last bottle shone and we all enjoyed it immensely. This is why I cellar and share these wines. (6/98).” This note is made all the more poignant in that this very friend, Mike, unexpectedly died just last month.

Sometimes, a note can barely even mention the wine but help me remember why some relationships are not the ones I want to maintain. This about two bottles of Champagne that a “friend” grabbed from my collection at one in the morning after our group had had more than enough to drink: “Two bottles on the heels of all else. After essentially lighting the driveway on fire with an overly aggressive bonfire, David even felt it important to use the back of one of our kitchen knives as a “scabbard” to open one. (1/01)”. I believe this was the last time David was invited to our house.

And finally, a wine can highlight a relationship that is rich both in the present and the past. “Opening this on a quiet day. Just back from our vacation (returned this morning after waking at 4:20 am). Tonight, to be alone with Jerri, my love and center, I’ve chosen a Pasmados. This, to bring us both back to a beautiful room in a Portuguese pousada and an open bottle of the local wine. Honey, red cherry on the nose, somewhat closed on the palate, though delicious tart, red fruit. Not overpowering tannins, could age a little longer, but just delicious 20 minutes into this bottle. Gorgeous honey nose. (10/96).”

While the wine may be good, it is ultimately about the people with whom you share it. Good luck as you uncork your own memories.

Andrew Falk



So if you can’t possibly “win” this wine game, why play? I tell my wife it’s a good investment, but she’s too sweet to point out I’ve never sold a bottle in twenty years. Drank, traded, donated to charitable causes, given away— yes— but sell? I don’t think so. I know people who collect and play the “ratings game” and take exclusive comfort in the ratings of the critics, sometimes without even trying the wine for themselves. While there are certainly wine critics I respect and heed, that approach is too passive for me. I like to at least try to figure it out for myself. And of course we all know “label lovers” who continue to revere a brand even after the winemaker who made the wine famous has retired and sold the vineyard to a multinational corporation. So while you may find certain labels in my cellar, there is no lifetime pass if the style, quality or value diminishes.

The fact is, my wine collection-and I suspect many others– started as an accident. A classmate of mine ended up at a wine distributor and she gave me a few bottles of truly different and interesting wines to try way back in 1985. I had no idea there was more to wine than what I had been used to drinking. This started a long and serendipitous path of trial and error (lots of errors), study, discussions, and travel. My cellar is more of an ongoing process than a collection. Like most people who consistently buy wine, I have developed my prejudices on regions, grapes and winemakers, but every region has it’s expressions of balance, quality and value. And even though I can afford more expensive wines than I could in 1985, those are the bottles I’ve tried to add over the years. Besides, it’s a good investment.

John von Schlegell

I’m not even sure where to begin with this wine. It’s one of Oregon’s rarest (only 37 cases were made) and most difficult-to-find wines (who would be crazy enough to try and sell it?) to locate. So I guess I’ll start at the beginning. Several years ago I was at a trade tasting in Chicago. There were hundreds of wines and dozens of winemakers, all jammed into a trendy Chicago restaurant designed to look like the inside of a circus tent. Which was the perfect setting for this wine. At about the time I thought my palate was about to give up the ghost, one of my employees came running over and said, “I may have just died and gone to heaven. You have to go find Sam Tannahill and ask for the Jackass. It’s hidden under the table.” I didn’t know quite how to interpret that statement so I went to see for myself. After all, I’ve seen stranger things than a jackass under a table at a trade tasting, but you never know.

Sam Tannahill is usually a cool, calm and collected fellow (think young Elvis Costello, but without the contemptuousness) but he was clearly nervous about this wine he had hidden under the table. It didn’t have a label and it had the oddest light orange color with flecks of pink. Was it a rose? Was it an Oregon attempt at sherry? Was it a white wine? Sam wasn’t sure himself, but he did say “I’m pretty sure my wife (co-winemaker Cheryl Francis) isn’t happy about this wine. In fact, she calls it the ‘jackass wine’ because that’s what she thinks of me for making it.”

One taste and I could see why Cheryl was concerned. The Jackass was so impossible to classify that it would probably befuddle the average wine retailer’s ability to pigeonhole it. It would be hard for some clerk to say, “this is like a poor man’s Priorat” or “we like to call this baby Salmon-Billecart” when the Jackas doesn’t really taste like many other wines on the planet. The Jack White (either Cheryl has forgiven him or the BATF wouldn’t) is an equal-parts blend of Pinot Blanc, Pinot Gris and Chardonnay, with all the fruit coming from the organically farmed Quail Run Vineyards in southern Oregon. Nothing unusual about that, right? Well, Sam took those grapes and fermented them on their skins like a red wine, then aged and macerated the juice on its skins for six months. At dawn on Easter morning in 2005 the wine was pressed and then aged in old oak barrels for an additional 16 months. Then it was bottled without filtration in August 2006. You see, Sam is a fan of those radical Northern Italians and Slovenians like Gravener, Radikon and Movia, folks who are returning to the way wine was first made in the Caucasus Mountains of Georgia. Of course, those wines all cost 40.00 to 100.00 a bottle.

The other thing that drew me to this wine was its connection to another Oregon winemaker, the late Jimi Brooks. Sam and Jimi had talked for years about making a wine like this but they just never found the time. Or, as Sam likes to say, the courage. Then Jimi died way too early in September 2004 and Sam decided to find both of those missing ingredients. I am a big fan of Jimi Brooks and was lucky enough to hang out with him a bit when I would come home to Oregon on visits. Sometimes we get a little jaded, with life and with wine. Just when you are plugging along something like the Jack White comes along to remind you why you fell in love with wine in the first place. It’s exciting, it’s interesting and when it is this good you just want to share it with other people so you can talk about it. And it reminds you to slow down, pay attention and appreciate the beautiful things that tend to fly under your radar. Wine is one of life’s simple pleasures and sometimes we forget that. Jack White. Hmm. There’s a lyric from a White Stripes song that Jack White wrote that says:

“And there was a time when all I wanted
Was my ice cream colder and a little cream soda
Oh well, oh well”

Drinking the Jackass can take you back to those times. I promise. But for those skeptics out there, here’s what the Jack White tastes and smells like. It smells like you are getting ready to drink a fino sherry that was somehow made with apricots and almonds. But there’s an orange marmalade quality lurking in the background of every sniff. Is this thing going to be sweet or dry? Should I be drinking this orangeish-tinted liquid out of a snifter or a wine glass? Where’s my Wine Advocate review to tell me what this should taste like? See what I mean? Right off the bat it has you talking to yourself like a halfway house outpatient after a cup of Dunkin Doughnuts coffee. Then you taste it. One sip and you realize this is unlike any other wine you have ever tasted before. Unless you are lucky enough to drink a lot of Gravener, Movia or Radikon. There are white flowers, white peaches and a crazy nuttiness in every taste. But that’s just the first layer. The second layer tastes like you crushed an apricot on a rock and then threw the apricot away and licked the rock. I don’t like to think of grape vines as straws sucking up flavors from the ground,but these grapes do grow up out of friable volcanic soils and quartz. Maybe there is something to this terroir stuff.

Sam Tannahill did a note about this wine awhile back and he stated, “if you like Tom Waits, Bob Dylan in 1965 and the 1961 Lincoln Continental you will love this wine. Iconoclastic, pure and uncompromising, this wine is unique. A tannic white with flavors and aromas that are intense and unforgettable…Will you like it? We do not know and we are not sure this is a wine to be liked in the traditional sense. It is a wine to be appreciated and, if possible, understood. Ageability? Certainly 10 to 20 years.”

Michael Alberty
Head Storyteller

Storyteller Wine Co., Portland, Oregon

Gregg Popovich

One small but important note is to construct or buy racks that have the flexibility to handle bottles of different sizes and shapes. Whereas thirty years ago bottles came in a handful of shapes, sometimes it seems as if everyone today is trying to distinguish themselves with a bottle no one else has which can make for a storage nightmare or worse, an expensive red puddle on the floor.

Gregg Popovich