Wine is great stuff–but wine people are the very best.

While volunteering at the TEXSOM Conference last month, I met a wonderful couple who know a ton about Virginia wine and are eager to share their favorites with the world. Over towering racks of freshly-washed glasses, wine chat turned into more wine chat.

I mentioned I had tasted Virginia wines for the first time this year and was interested in learning more. They invited me over to see their collection of small-production and wine club bottlings–and of course, to drink some wine!

On the kitchen wall was a colorful state map, all studded with pushpins from dozens (or maybe hundreds) of Virginia winery visits. What luck, I thought. This is undoubtedly the optimal way to discover a new style or region: Have someone who already knows and loves it volunteer to give you a tour.

Tasting the 2023 Early Mountain “Foothills” Red Blend (Virginia).

They cooked me a gourmet dinner, poured seven wines from their marvelous stash, and then sent me home with this bottle: The 2023 “Foothills” red blend from Early Mountain Vineyards. Five grapes (four Bordeaux varieties + Tannat) combine to make a unique and delicately balanced blend.

It pours up a deep purple color. Intense and ripe blackberry, light vanilla, allspice, cola, and a hint of fresh-baked bread on the nose. The smooth, dark-fruited aromas subside to reveal a core of Bing cherry and tart plum. There’s a distinctive vegetal spiciness of beetroot and chicory on the palate, all smoothed over by lactic creaminess and punctuated by bright acidity.

Despite the color and high-ish (14.1%) alcohol, “Foothills” is barely a hair over medium-bodied. A hint of wet bark on the finish anchors the wine back to earth, while lingering aromas of violet and morning glory nudge it toward the ethereal. Besides the hoped-for berries and baking spice, I find many things to admire in my glass: Structure without bitterness, intensity without weight, presence without pretension.

The wine is obviously young, but there’s nothing abrasive or unsophisticated about it. Judicious use of French oak (20% new) lends richness but leaves the fresh fruit character intact. It’s delightful to taste a red blend of depth and strength that’s ready to go (almost) right out of the vineyard.

Discovering the Wines of Virginia

Virginia wine has range, a fact that my hosts were proud to demonstrate. In one night, we tasted a zingy traditional-method sparkling rosé, a floral-laced, tropical Petit Manseng, and a powerful barrel-aged Sauvignon Blanc. And that was before moving on to the reds.

A tasting of Virginia Wines including bottles from Valley Road, Lost Mountain, Early Mountain, Linden Vineyards, and King Family Vineyards.

Virginia reds? I already loved them. Cabernet Franc is the state’s most important black grape, and it’s made in a variety of styles from light and herbal to THICK and opaque as a farm-stand jam.

Virginia Cab Franc is not easy to find here in Texas. But I’ve been able to try around 20 of them in recent months, thanks to my Loudon County trip in February and a Virginia Wine tasting table at TEXSOM.

The standouts for me have been medium-bodied, highly aromatic wines intended for drinking, not collecting. Oak influence is subtle, yielding the spotlight to dark, just-ripe berry fruit and delicate purple florals. (Cabernet Franc makes up a minor part of the above-mentioned “Foothills” blend, but it’s styled along those same lines.)

Speaking of blends: While polishing all those glasses for TEXSOM last month, the topic turned to red blends and their ideal proportions. I vaguely remember shooting my mouth off about Petit Verdot to my fellow Sommer Campers. I said that any Bordeaux-style blend that includes more than maybe 8-10% Petit Verdot tastes like stemmy garbage and I can’t deal with it. I know that I said that to someone–and I think I actually said it to Jesse and Brittany, Virginia wine experts.

I don’t know if that’s why they chose to gift me this particular wine, but if so, it’s poetic justice. Because this blend is a whopping 43% Petit Verdot and it wears it well. Color me corrected–the extra helping of Petit Verdot adds tannin and earthy spice without overruling the plushness of the “Foothills” blend’s juicy berries and plums.

A Texas Wine Lover Looks at Virginia

Virginia’s and Texas’s wine industries are often compared because of their similar production volume. (Texas makes more wine than Virginia, but not by much.) There’s some other commonalities too: Both states have wineries that heavily depend on events and agro-tourism, both are actively establishing new AVAs to express their varied climates and soil types, etc. etc.

Rows of grapevines grow on a scenic Virginia hillside (Adobe Stock).

Doing some Virginia tastings and a few winery visits was eye-opening, though. Virginia is probably at least five to ten years ahead of Texas in terms of the quality of the wines and the direct-to-consumer marketing. As a true-blue Texan, I don’t really like to admit it–but facts is facts. And in terms of value for money, it’s not even close.

At Texas wineries, $25 or $30 might get you a very good saignée-method rosé or a quaffable off-dry white blend, for instance. But reds of quality often go for double that–and at that point a lot of buyers turn back to European or premium California producers.

Among reds, some of the most talked-about Texas varieties–Tannat, Aglianico, and yes, Petit Verdot–benefit from some barrel and/or bottle age. They often don’t taste their best until a few years after the vintage. That further drives up the production cost and the prices. Or alternatively, people are turned off by these wines when they are sold or drunk too young. It’s a hard ask to get people to take home a prickly, $50-$60 red wine just because the label says “Texas.”

In contrast, this pleasing, skillfully made Bordeaux blend from Virginia’s Early Mountain retails for $30 (before any wine club discounts) and is ready to drink today. That makes me green with envy. It’s about the price/quality ratio that regional wineries need to hit to earn their place on everyday drinkers’ dinner tables and on restaurant wine lists.

Of course, if you’re looking for rare releases and no-holds-barred luxury, you can find those in Virginia, too. It was a privilege to taste the Lost Mountain “Friends and Family,” an acclaimed and highly allocated Bordeaux blend filled with mouth-puckering blue and black fruit, intriguing flavors of damp potting soil, and a long smooth, finish of chocolaty oak ($50).

I appreciate that Virginia wineries are able to offer both classic styles and regional typicity while keeping their bottle prices (and tasting fees) down-to-earth. While world-class wines are absolutely being made, many producers emphasize ready-to-drink wines that are ready for picnic baskets, not just cellars. I hope for Texas wines’ sake that we can figure out how to do that, too.

Bottle: Early Mountain “Foothills” Red Blend (2023)

Variety: 43% Petit Verdot, 23% Merlot, 18% Cabernet Franc, 11% Tannat, 5% Cabernet Sauvignon.

ABV: 14.1%

Suggested retail: $30

My rating: 9.2 (out of 10)

Also tasted:

King Family Brut Rosé (2022) – Monticello AVA, Virginia

Valley Road Vineyards Petit Manseng (2023) – Monticello AVA, Virginia

Linden Vineyards “Avenius” Sauvignon Blanc (2023) – Virginia

Valley Road Cabernet Franc (2022) – Monticello AVA, Virginia

RdV Vineyards/Lost Mountain “Friends and Family” Red Blend (2023) – Virginia

Early Mountain Petit Verdot (2021) – Virginia

P.S. Such a great tasting-let’s do it again soon! 😀

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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