“What consumer product is a perfect design?” A friend got this question in an interview for an engineering job. I think he said, “the toothbrush.” Toothbrush is a good answer.
There are many–although, given the length of human history, probably not as many as there should be–everyday items that are basically solved engineering problems. They fulfill their purpose so adequately that they suppress the urge to invent and optimize. The OXO potato peeler, the index card, the 1997 Toyota Corolla, the three-legged stool.
Sure, you can marginally improve all of those things. You can make them more expensive or more complicated, with rarer materials or extra features or novelty. But at some point, you’re just gilding the lily or inventing the square wheel. There are a few near-perfect things that just check all the boxes: Functionality, beauty, economy, and longevity.
What fits this description in the world of wine? It’s gotta be Sonoma County Cabernet, right?
Napa Valley Cab is the quality benchmark, but Napa Cab is not for everyone. They are so often gigantic, high-alcohol wines that are at risk of running over either the food or the occasion. Also, desirable bottles are now pushing $100…not exactly a weeknight sipper for most of us.
On the other hand, the Cab blends of Sonoma are almost always moderately priced and at least moderately delicious. These wines are rich with layers of fruit and spice. They’re buzz-inducing yet contemplate-able wines, democratic in their posture but elegant enough for the shindig or the steakhouse. You can drink them with or without food, now or later. They’re just built right–nothing’s broken, or likely to break. They’re structured to please wine novices and sophisticates alike.
I’m thinking about all of this because today I’m drinking the Cline Family Cellars “Rock Carved” Cabernet.
This softly-textured, fruit-forward pour is from the Rio Lago Vineyard in Sonoma’s Alexander Valley. Its extra thick, wide-shouldered bottle is pleasingly heavy. The price was a fair one.
“Rock Carved” opens with bright spiced fruit: Juicy red plum, raspberry sauce, cinnamon, vanilla, clove, blackcurrant. The color is deep, with lightly staining tears. Hovering behind the fruit is a distinctive red-vegetable spiciness (red beets and rhubarb), with some floral notes of iris and rose.
As I taste it, it becomes softer and mellows to black fruit–black plum, cooked plum, cola, and more cinnamon. Tangy yogurt and crushed fresh mint leaf. Acidity is high, with high grippy tannins. It has a long (but not particularly layered) finish. Fresh, structured, agreeable–there is a sense of ease and adequacy about this wine.
Now, I’m not implying that making a great Sonoma Cab is a simple endeavor. I certainly don’t know how to do it. I’m aware it takes a lot of people bringing a lot of expertise and skill.
But when I’m drinking a wine as delightfully functional as this one, all the pitfalls of winemaking sort of fall away. I like to imagine, in that moment of pleasure, that Sonoma Cab is easy–a quintessential “solved problem” of product engineering.
You plant a forgiving grape variety in an ideal climate. You let the happy fruits hang on the vine through the long summer, soaking up sun and sea breezes. You pick. You add in some oak, do a little blending. You wait a season or two, then sell it for $15 or $80 or somewhere in between depending on what names are on the bottle. Almost everyone who tries this wine will like it. All the expectations it creates will be admirably met.
You know what else is easy? Meat and potatoes. Dinner was slow-roasted petite beef tenderloin (my local ALDI sometimes has these for $6.99/lb–nice!) with buttered Sherry mushrooms.
Bottle: Cline “Rock Carved” Alexander Valley Cabernet Sauvignon (2021)
Variety: Cabernet Sauvignon (89%), Petite Sirah (9%), Alicante Bouschet (2%). Aged 14 months in 50% new French oak.
ABV: 14.5%
Suggested retail: $ 32.99
My rating: 8.1 (out of 10)
Review disclosure: I was not compensated or provided any free products for this review. Opinions expressed on The Wine Fairy blog are entirely my own.
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