This is, indisputably, the best time of year for Northwest wines. Not surprisingly, it’s also a fantastic time for local foods. One of the consistent elements across the wide range of varietals we grow is the region’s ability to combine fruitiness with earthy and savory flavors, and that set of flavors is most welcome in the fall. Beyond that, it’s the ideal season for those like myself who take a decidedly romantic approach to wine and the enjoyment thereof: there is a magic in this season unlike the others.
There is Riesling—bright and crisp like a bite from a freshly fallen apple. The faintest tinge of sweetness, the vivid zing of acidity and the electric shock of minerality dancing on your tongue. It provides a surprisingly resilient counterpoint to hard-shelled squash and brown butter sauces, and while it often finds a place at my table year-round, it shines its brightest now.
I always find my way back to Pinot Noir in the fall. At this point it almost feels like a cliche to say, but Oregon Pinots have always reminded me of walking through the woods in the fall. Dried leaves crunching underneath, mushrooms poking up through the damp soil, a hint of woodsmoke in the air, but still enough life and vitality to buoy the spirit. The kind of walk you take in the middle of the afternoon, as the day’s light begins to fade, where the warmth of home is a beacon, and beckons, at the end. Black kale, sauteed mushrooms, roasted chicken and grilled salmon—you can’t do better.
From there, we move to Syrah, redolent with the scent of bacon fat sizzling in a pan, black pepper prickling the nose. Underlying that, hints of stewed fruits and savory herbs—fall is a time of preserving foods for the long winter, and Syrah smells and tastes like all of them. October is usually the month where I break out my Le Creuset and start braising, and Syrah from the Northwest remains an ideal partner with braised beef.
Then, of course, there are the newcomers to Northwest wine popularity that flourish in fall. Grenache, even meatier and more savory than Syrah, both less and more powerful at once. Mourvedre, dark and brooding, yet somehow more willing to come out of its shell here in the Northwest than in its ancestral home. Tempranillo and Sangiovese, winsome immigrants, perhaps not quite fully assimilated but learning more each year.
Proclaiming the beauty and bounty of fall is not necessarily a new thought. However, in our modern world, where the most enthusiastic tributes to beverages this time of year all seem to be centered around pumpkin spice lattes, I find this to be the ideal season for our local wines, and a chance to allow them to transport us out of our daily routine. To let our imaginations run a bit wild, and to relish this most wonderful of seasons.
