The first post on this blog was on January 12th, 2012 and shortly thereafter I started pointing out that some wines are bottled in ridiculously heavy bottles. I even came up with what I considered a rather pithy term: B.A.B. or “Big Ass Bottle.”
In the now close to a dozen years that have followed, while hopefully providing a few interesting viewpoints and compelling stories, I have continued to sound the alarm when it comes to excessively heavy bottles in the wine industry, often to the consternation of others.
As 2023 nears its end, it seems as though the anti-heavy bottle crowd has grown to include Decanter, Dave McIntyre at the Washington Post, and Jancis Robinson among a slew of others. So while it is safe to say a decade ago that I felt I was a tree falling in a forest, it is becoming more mainstream to decry heavy glass. People are realizing that not only are heavier bottles more expensive, they also have a needlessly higher carbon footprint.
There are still some producers who believe that consumers equate a heavy bottle with a higher quality wine and while that might be true with a few people, I tend to believe that the consumer is driven by other forces. I have been in countless wine shops and I have yet to see anyone make a decision between two wines by trying to determine which bottle weighed more.
Imagine two displays at a winery, both with the exact same wine, same label, but one was populated with heavy bottles. The other had lighter bottles, a sign that said “better for the environment” and the price was $1 cheaper per bottle.
Which would you buy?
That brings me to the reason for my little rant today. Let me say right away that this is my first experience with Linne Calodo of Paso Robles even though they have been producing wines since 1998. And, based on what I could glean from their very well-done website, they state to be farming their land “within the bounds of their land’s limited resources, relying on natural solutions and manual labor in contrast to chemicals and carbon-burning machines.”
Fantastic. Truly.
But.
I received four bottles of fantastic wine from the winery and the bottles were among the heaviest I have ever tried to lift. And to me that is a disconnect. I understand that there is a bottle supply problem in the U.S. and that wine producers often don’t have much choice, but here I am talking about bottle weight (again) instead of the incredible wines contained within.
2020 Linne Calodo Cherry Red, Paso Robles Willow Creek District, CA: Retail $95. Simply put, this has to be in the top 10% of heaviest bottles on the market. And that might be an understatement. 68% Zinfandel, 18% Syrah, 12% Mourvèdre, 2% Tempranillo. Hey, I get it. There are those who still think that bottle weight translates in some convoluted way to quality but it does not take much thinking to figure out that the heaviness of the bottle has absolutely nothing to do with what resides inside. Yet here we are. Dark, stormy, even brooding in the glass with blackberry, cassis, and plum the predominant fruits, paired with black pepper, dark earth, and even anise on the nose. The palate is slightly into the “big” range with tons of black fruit, remarkable acidity, and chutzpah. All cards on the table? This is not my style of wine, but if you like a bigger, juicier, on-the-verge-of-jammy style? Yeah. Wheelhouse. Excellent. 92 Points.
2020 Linne Calodo Rising Tides, Paso Robles Willow Creek District, CA: Retail $95. Really Big. Ass. Bottle. 69% Grenache, 31% Syrah. This is now my second wine from this Paso producer and the heavy bottle seems to be a theme. The website indicates that this is the “flagship wine” of Linne Calodo and “embodies all that [they] strive for in blending”. Medium crimson in the glass with a gorgeous nose of cherry and blackberry pie with a hint of à la mode. There is also a bit of spice and the slightest of herbal notes (sweet basil). The palate is loaded with big fruit, tons of fruit, but an intense acidity tempers it, and beneath all of that fruit, there are several layers of complexity, but patience is required to get there. Another big boy from winemaker Matt Trevisan and I would suggest putting this down for at least a couple of years as there are some grippy tannins to help this age as the fruit calms down a bit. That is unless you like big fruit and if that’s the case? Grip it and rip it! Excellent. 93 Points, with a possible 94-95 in 3-5 years.
2020 Linne Calodo Overthinker, Paso Robles Willow Creek District, CA: Retail $98. Really. Big. Ass. Bottle. Under cork. 52% Syrah, 40% Grenache, 8% Mourvèdre. “Known as a liquid photograph of [the] estate” according to the website, this bottle (along with being just as ridiculously heavy as the others) is clearly the darkest and most ominous of the three reds I tried. Dark in both color (deep magenta, on the verge of black) and aromas (black currant, dark plum, blackberry, black pepper, with a subtle basil note as well as some earth), this wine almost begs for a gloomy afternoon or a thick Texas ribeye. Or both. The palate is on the verge of brooding with some healthy (albeit mostly silky) tannins that indicate this is a wine made for the long haul. I would certainly suggest a bit more cellar time (4-7 years, ideally) or at least a healthy decant (or two). Fantastic now but that would likely go up (perhaps considerably) with more cellar time. 93+ potential? Excellent. 91 Points.
2022 Linne Calodo The Contrarian, Paso Robles Willow Creek District, CA: Retail $68. This is becoming redundant, but the bottles from Linne Catoldo should be classified as environmental hazards. Yeesh. 47% Grenache Blanc, 35% Viognier, 18% Picpoul Blanc. Linne Catoldo winemaker/owner Matt Trevisan states this on the website: “Once upon a time, I swore I would never make a white wine—I didn’t have the equipment or the inclination.” And as far as I can tell, this is the only white (along with a rosé that I hwould love to get my hands on) among twelve (!) reds. Well, Mr. Trevisan should consider adding a few more whites to the lineup as this is delicious. Sure, this is on the big side of white Rhône-style wines, but Trevisan does not seem to go as full-throttle with this wine as he did with the reds. Yes, there is plenty of fruit, but there is also nuance, verve, and, dare I say “restraint” here that does not come through in the reds (although each of those I tried could use some cellar time to mellow out a bit). I shy away from superlatives, but this is one of the best white Rhône blends I have tried outside of France. Just please consider using more responsible glass–no one still thinks that “heavy bottle” means “great wine.” Most people just think “environmentally reckless.” Outstanding. 96 Points.
the drunken cyclist 