Cooperage Matters -- American Oak

For the first time in our journey, we're breaking two rules. To begin with, we're not drinking a single wine today -- call it liver preservation. And, second, we're going to not just one, but two places. 

We're going to start the day in little Millersville, Missouri, home to some of the largest white oak trees in the US, if not the world. There's not much in Millersville, situated roughly halfway between St Louis and Memphis, besides oak. In fact, it's an unincorporated community bordering Cape Girardeau. And, Cape Girardeau, in and of itself, has an interesting naming history. It's neither a cape, nor part of a cape, and while it is named after somebody, it's not named after anybody named Girardeau.

In the 18th century, there was a rock formation overlooking the Mississippi that looked to some as they envisioned a cape. And, the largest trading post in the area was owned by a French soldier named Girardot. There you have it -- Cape Girardeau.

Missouri, for the most part, is covered in oak trees, and notably white oak. You see them in all parts of the state. And, for that reason, it's where most of what is labeled as American oak in the wine industry comes from. It is suitably porous, strong yet bendable, and has fairly loose striations, i.e., the rings are spaced fairly far apart. It's ideal for the types of wines that many Americans live for -- the big bold red wines that put Napa on the map.

Speaking of Napa, let's drive up to St Louis so that we can get to Napa. It's a scenic drive, mostly right along the Mississippi River, occasionally veering in and out of forests and passing the Gateway Arch. The airport is not overly crowded, but it sure is compared to Napa County Airport where we chose to land. Upon leaving the airport, we headed east past the Sheriff's Department before heading north where Highways 12 and 29 come together, through American Canyon, to one of the homes of American wine cooperage (a cooper is the name for a barrelmaker).

Why is the oak important? In most places where wine is made, you don't get to add artificial flavors and sell the product as wine. So, for example, don't expect next fall to see the season feature be pumpkin spice white zinfandel. A good bit of the character in many wines comes not just from the grapes and the terroir, but also from the oak barrels.

The barrels, generally speaking, can be divided into three categories by age -- new (never used before), used (once prebiously), and neutral (used at least twice previously). The newer the oak, the more flavor it imparts.

Once the barrel is assembled, it is often toasted. Winemakers choosing custom cooperage will select the level of toast that they want. Heavier toast imparts darker colors, lots of spice, caramel, honey, and in the case of American oak, plenty of vanilla (European oak tends to give a bit more chocolate or mocha). Lighter wines tend to used less toasted barrels. And, malolactic fermentation, the process that adds buttery notes to Chardonnay, is characteristically done in barrel. It is this fermentation that also produces the fuller mouth feel that has become a hallmark of American wines as compared to classic "Old World" wines.

The American oak barrels coming out of this particular cooperage are being sent up-valley where they are being used to produce Cabernet Sauvignon. When you drink the fuller-bodied, almost creamy, and more viscous Cabernet, they may have been aged in exactly these barrels. 

Tomorrow, we'll head to France to see what that oak does that makes it different.