(Fair warning, I had a healthy dose of green tea before scribbling this; so, buckle up friends…)
Let’s start out with a full disclosure type of confession on my part. In fact, it’s more of a developed bias that I seem to share among a number of those in my wine orbit who have been critical of California Chardonnay. Hanging around a bunch of Jungian wine pontificators who, like me, seem to have developed some peculiar joy in turning their noses at anything other than white Burgundy, just reinforces the constant slight I have given to the Golden State’s queen of varietals over recent memory. Without going down a wacky and now seemingly overplayed rabbit hole on the topic, it’s almost redundant to say that my home state Chardonnay has been betrayed time and time again with ripe, sweaty, sweet, over-oaked treatment by those who feel that masking its true character is worth the payout from those palates who seem to want for everything marshmallowy jumpy house gummy and slathering saccharine succulent. Good on ya… I guess…
Yet, I suppose it’s like anything fringe. On one end of the spectrum, I don’t want a flabby butter bomb that drags its gooey knuckles in pineapple extract soup before slothing itself in my mouth until it dies a slow death in a syrupy swallow. Also, having a searing, militant acid soldier hucking hydrochloric 0.00 pH and fossilized rock bombs at my palate is no kind of fun either. Who knew I needed such catharsis from my struggles with California Chardonnay (and don’t call it “Cali” Chard. No one says “Cali” unless they are visiting from Ohio; just like no one should say “Frisco” or “San Fran”). Dr. Phil seems like a guy who drinks Butter Chard with flapjacks and whipped cream. Maybe he can provide therapeutic guidance to me and my struggles with my nomadic palate…? Anyway, suffice to say I have loved big California Chardonnays some moons ago, but have personally become increasingly sensitive to (and critical of) the Lemontini movement that has all too often cast a sloppy shadow over what could be amazing fruit (from some sites at least), but for those who pick in late December and hammer their crop with confectioners’ lumber and candied fat fairy dust.
Ok…enough of that. This whole buildup boils down to one thing really. The 2022 Sphaerics “if and only if,” hailing from a nice little carve out of the Upper Barn vineyard, is an exquisitely balanced rendition of domestic Chardonnay, or any Chardonnay for that matter, so much so that I had trouble finding fault here. And mind you, I wanted to find fault (cuz that’s what insecure people like me do all day). After all, I was drinking California Chardonnay, right?! My initial notes read, “Calculated and poised in every way. Silky layers of lemony-lemon drop cloaked in a feathery encasement of almond milk and crème fraiche.” (ya, I actually wrote that – I don’t get out much). On the nose, it initially shows as slightly reductive, encircled by lemon curd and vanilla scents. On the palate, it’s a deliberate wave of lemon (did I mention lemon??), yellow apple, vanilla, cream, pumice, and, oh ya…lemon. This thing has curves that carve an exceptional lane of delivery for the giving fruit. The purity is unmatched. The mid-palate pauses for a nice chewiness before sashaying along with its salivating beam of measured acidity on the beautifully balmy finish.
Now, I didn’t want to do this, but the comparison to Aubert is difficult to remove myself from. This, of course, is not a bad thing by any means, but it is important that this wine stand alone with its own distinctive identity and not “just be another Aubert,” or some copycat. That would mean it’s somehow second to Aubert, which it most certainly is not. I’ll say this just once…For those who like Aubert’s Lauren, you’ll likely go gaga over the Sphaerics, which I find to be generally better balanced, show elevated integration of the oak (70% here), and exuding enhanced class overall. A longer fermentation seems to have added textural superiority and depth here as well. Perhaps less powerful and overt as the Aubert lineage, the Sphaerics is a trendier and more poised partygoer in comparison. Think Dominque Crenn versus Charlie Palmer.
The Sphaerics was served alongside a 2014 Stonestreet and 2006 Peter Michael Mon Plaisir, all of which were spawned from Upper Barn. The Sphaerics was closer in form to the Mon Plaisir, as the Stonestreet was a bit more angular and superficial in its presentation.
97-100 points right here folks. I suspect a little bottle age might make for an even more complex luminary. Tip of the hat to Laura Jones for fashioning this special wunderkind. Invite all your fancy friends over, blind the Sphaerics with a Coche Corton Charlie, and see where the votes go…
