Let’s quickly examine one of the most divisive ingredients to white wine: oak. In an effort to make wine more approachable and consumer friendly, we often look for binary guidance. “This is always good, that is always bad.” This logic is applied to oak all the time. “I don’t like oaky Chardonnay” often just means “I don’t like noticing oak,” which — taken a step further — means “I don’t like unbalanced Chardonnay.” Yeah, me neither. Who does?
But oak is an essential tool for allowing reductive white wines the space they need to get comfortable and to find their groove. A better way of looking at oak is through analogy.
Oak is to wine as denim is to pants.
Denim/oak is at times fashionable, at times not. They can be essential to comfort in certain situations, excessive and inappropriate in other circumstances.
Like denim, oak on a wine can feel like this:
In other situations, you’re encountering this guy:
I have Bobby Stuckey MS to thank for this way of looking at oak usage in wine. A few years ago at the Festa del Chianti Classico, Bobby said that we shouldn’t be afraid of detecting oak on the palate, as long as “the wine wears the oak well.” It was such a helpful statement, one that cut through the absurdity of trend-seeking absolutists who had made oak a four-letter word in certain circles.
I was revisiting this thought the other night while savoring a delicious Rioja Blanco Gran Reserva from Bodegas Faustino. Here was a white wine with noticeable oak usage, particularly when it came to the flavors reminiscent of coconut shavings and vanilla. But like a pair of broken-in jeans, the oak seemed to give the wine space to maneuver. It was glossy, sumptuous, and most importantly, balanced. Lovers of white Burgundy would have been pleased with what was in my glass that night, and indeed, I was surprised to learn later that half of this wine is comprised of Chardonnay (Viura, the stalwart of Rioja Blanco, made up the other half).
Last year around this time, I wrote about another Rioja Blanco that impressed me mightily, complementing its autolytic character due to excellent management of lees contact. As the wine world pivots heavily toward white wines, it’s important to keep an eye on Rioja Blanco and appreciate it for what it is: a wine centered on craftsmanship, precision and value. Those white Burgundy lovers would be hard-pressed to find an oak-crafted wine this fine from Bourgogne for $35 retail.
2019 Faustino I Rioja Blanco Gran Reserva
Rioja DOCa (La Rioja )
Grapes: Chardonnay (50%), Viura (50%)
Alcohol: 12.5%
Opinion: ★★★★ 3/4
Food friendliness: Selective
Value: Very Good
A beginner might like … exploring the Rioja Blanco category a bit more. This Gran Reserva represents the apex in terms of structure and age-ability, requiring 48 months of aging before release, with six of those in barrel. The Crianza level represents more freshness and immediacy, while Reserva’s lie in between.
A wine obsessive might like … to know the exact oak regiment here. The oak is new, roughly 60% French and 40% American, and the wine spends six months in these barrels. But frequent bâtonnage and excellent fruit seem to provide the right alchemy here for a balanced, supple and serious white wine for autumn nights.
A critique … this Rioja bottle was enmeshed with an alambrado, an historically significant artifact of Rioja’s past. Faustino was one of several producers who used these mesh cages to guard against counterfeiting in their top wines. They continue the practice today, and while I’m not one to critique pride in one’s history, I will say that in this day and age, the alambrado feels like just another piece of waste to throw in the trash. As the wine industry grapples with issues of sustainability, some hard choices will have to be made. In the case of the alambrado, I feel like its time to move on.
Note: This wine was provided as a sample by the winery’s American importer. Learn more about our editorial policy.
