This is a bottle that will turn a wine drinker, into a wine enthusiast.
For every wine lover there's one wine that did something that no other wine could, it changed the way you think about wine. It made you excited about what you were tasting and it gave you the feeling that you discovered something. For a moment, you even perhaps got the feeling that you suddenly understood another language. For me, it was a 1994 pinot noir from Philo, in the Alexander Valley in Sonoma. The winery isn't there anymore, I've looked. I was just starting to learn about wine, and on a visit to the vineyard the winemaker took me through the tasting. There was no fancy tasting room, no money changed hands for tasting tokens, it was just us, a couple of glasses and a broken corkscrew standing on a gravel patch between her house, and the barn (the winery). She explained the grapes, the ground, the flavors of strawberries and cream, and right there and then, on the top of a hill looking at the vines sloping down into the valley, I was hooked.
I've had lots of wines over the years, some memorable for being great, some memorable for being not so great, and many not memorable at all. When I tried "Identity Crisis" white syrah from Babcock, I was taken back to my first great wine experience all those years ago. I felt like I had discovered something that nobody else in the world had ever tried, and instantly I started to fall in love with wine all over again.
The color: It's that of a peach, soft and pink'ish verging into orange, but when you tilt the glass the orange hugh takes control and soon orange is all you see. It's brilliant. The color is completely different; it isn't a trendy rose, and it isn't a white, but it isn't a red either although the bottle may suggest otherwise - it's quite simply put, something all of its own.
On the nose: Strawberry hits you first, but then as your senses get used to the bouquet you start to pick up a note of guava; the guava leading into a green pepper herbaceous note and that in turn falls into lychee fruit. One still moment of sent lingers into the next in this lucid wave of discovery, like when you suddenly know all the answers to a crossword puzzle, one hint leading into the next in an unfolding rhythm so perfect that you don't want to breathe. But then you do breathe. You swirl your glass and dip your nose in again, and again, and again.
The first sip: Berry washes over your palate, strawberry to be exact, but you quickly question - it could be any number of berries mulling around on the tip of your tongue, you think. But then as the wine warms to your mouth and rolls around you're quickly able to pull out a verse of mineral coming into it's own across the top of your palate. It doesn't dry so much as give a hint of its presence. The mineral gives way to a tropical sensation of guava, or it could even be papaya, but the magical moment happens when you start to wonder, is it guava or is it papaya and as you wonder, that's when the black pepper sprinkles into the mix.
While that first sip is washing its way through, you become aware of the mouthfeel. The juice has gone through total malolactic fermentation, leaving the wine feeling slippery and fatty; round and oily, wonderfully soft, supple and buttery, and just when you're really appreciating this mouthfeel, the tannins creep in - totally unexpected. You seem to completely forget that you're drinking a syrah until these soft tannins layer over the top of your palate, like someone unexpected who has crashed your party, fashionably late.
The Finish: There's a sense of bananas sauteed in butter, with hints of toast mixing in the dryness of the tannins, and it's all intermingling in the linger of mineral. And the greatest part is that the finish seems to glow warm, and then lazily fade into the colors of night over the stretch of several minutes.
What's amazing about "Identity Crisis" is that it hits all the little cues that illustrate the difference between a good wine, and a great wine. Everyone has different tastes in wine, some prefer sweet, some dry. Some people have experienced palates and are going to pick out a profile of flavors, while others are simply going to sip a glass and taste ... well, wine. You like what you like, and that's one of the most fun things about this, a person may think it's the best wine in the world, while another might find the same juice completely vile. However, regardless of personal taste, in order to objectively identify a great wine there are certain bench marks a bottle needs to jump over. Does it have varietal character? Does it have expression? Are the flavors and textures well integrated? Does it keep you guessing - does it have complexity? And most importantly, does it taste like it's connected to the earth where it was grown?
In the case of "Identity Crisis," you're drinking 89% syrah, 6.5% pinot gris, and 4.5% chardonnay. If you're really keen, you can pick out the aromatic hints of each grape. The bouquet as a whole is an interwoven web of amazing bells and chimes, but these are three completely different grapes with different acidity levels, flavor profiles, and personalities. The balance is that of a mobile, with each grape hanging contently, moving freely and buoyantly in perfect synergy with one another and the result is a constantly changing nose, and ever developing body. What gets me most is the way it tastes like summer in central california. The juice manages to capture the brine in the air rolling off the pacific ocean, the green leaves, crisp riverbed minerals, and the soft, honey and pollen flavors of so many things that seem to be constantly in bloom.
Damn, this is good stuff.
Pairing:
This is an all purpose, go-to bottle, with enough acidity, tannin and fruit to stand up to just about anything. I wouldn't try to match it to a big steak, however a fillet mignon with beurre blanc or even a bearnaise, I might not be able to resist. Call me crazy, but I also think with the soft acidity, fatty mouth feel, and delicacy of fruit and spice with a hint of mineral tang, "Identity Crisis" might just be a match for sushi. I haven't tried it, but I'm going to find out and let you all know. It's going to pair well with any cheese or fruit, and with the distant vegetal notes you might detect on its finish, this might be that perfect match for artichokes with a dip of butter or hollandaise. On a slightly more healthy note, consider a salad of peppery arugula, fresh garden tomatoes, with tangerine wedges, olive oil, and a sprinkle of feta. Coconut curry; grilled salmon with a relish of mango, avocado & cilantro; backyard grilled chicken with buttery rich potato salad.
