A Guide to the Current State of California Cabernet

Last week, we considered California cabernet franc, discovering that a new and evocative era for that wine has arrived. Franc is a wonderful way to experience California, for Thanksgiving or otherwise. But the time has come to consider the main event: California cabernet sauvignon.

For sure, this isn’t a wine we often think about at PUNCH. But when you consider wine in an American context, California cabernet is as defining as it gets. Which is why it’s easy to forget how polarizing it can be. It is a Gatsby of a wine, into which we alternately pour our aspirations for the good life, or our gripes—about an overkill of style and the dark lining of new money. Those have been the major drivers of a recent era of cabernet, and none for the better.

That’s honestly a lot of baggage to drop on a grape. And as time has gone on—and, after having beaten up on a lot of overwrought cabernets over the years—I’ve become a reluctant defender. Cabernet sauvignon at its best has a distinct beauty and power, when not burnished with makeup or laden with too many egoist aspirations. You encounter it in modest Bordeaux, in Italian examples like Montesecondo’s Rosso del Rospo, in Australian versions from Coonawarra.

And yes, from California, too. It’s not coincidence that there’s been a recent raft of interest in tasting the California cabernets of the 1960s and 1970s; they came from an era when cabernet was allowed to have sharp elbows and forward acidity, and didn’t need to gush over your tongue with a wave of overripe fruit. Most importantly, they had in spades what gives cabernet its wonderful singularity: the complexity of not only fruit, but its many savory aspects. That’s code for the grape’s herbal flavors, which have caused no end of fighting. Sure, those flavors can fall too far to the green side, which comes across as vegetal and astringent. But they are also intrinsic to cabernet’s identity. Get rid of the herb, and you’ve killed the grape’s spirit.

There’s no question that California cabernet has evolved in the past few years, or, more precisely, revisited a classic style of earlier years, when savory and herbaceous characteristics were admired. This is part of the general push in California wine toward the new—a move back to the future. If just four years ago cabernet lagged in this trend, it’s undoubtedly happening today.

It’s even happening in the Napa Valley, which remains California’s cabernet epicenter. As hard as it was to witness October’s wildfires, they also got me thinking once again about the things that are so special about that part of California. And as much as my love for that slice of wine country is complicated—namely because Napa doesn’t usually do humility well—my love for California cabernet in its classic form remains as strong as ever.

It always resurges at this time of year. I’ve heard every side of the argument about cabernet and Thanksgiving—that it’s too strong for turkey, or not fruity enough for the many sweet flavors on the table. Thing is, Thanksgiving is defined by rich food with lots of butter and fat, and the roasted, deep flavors of autumn, all of which cabernet is perfect for. It’s a great Thanksgiving wine, maybe for the second or third bottle, when there’s gravitas to flavors on the table and you slip into what the Italians like to call a “contemplative mode.”

This led us to one of our most curious tastings at PUNCH. Perhaps my years in California prepared me for what was to come, but my colleagues less so. The culprits were the usual culprits in tasting California cabernet: too much alcohol, a bombast of fruit, flavors that seemed roasted or burnt or just plain awkward. It revealed, perhaps, the identity crisis that saddles cabernet today: Its biggest fans during the previous maximalist era endorsed the very things that stop making it true cabernet (namely, that green streak). They demanded more of everything. And, crucially, they were willing to pay a lot for it. The result? An emerging generation of drinkers that has largely stayed away from California cab, if not for style then for price. It was a recipe, frankly, for creating a lot of haters.

If this tasting was any indication, that battle continues. Even among some names I sentimentally love, there was plenty of more-is-more. But there also is a lot of beautiful cabernet to be found, both among classicists who resisted the desire to change—people like Cathy Corison and Philip Togni—and those who want to find a middle ground.

That’s why Napa ended up faring quite well in our tasting. At the same time, we’re also sensitive to price at PUNCH, and so we suggested a good number of alternatives from up and down the state. Sonoma, Santa Barbara and especially the Santa Cruz Mountains—home to Ridge Monte Bello, which for my money remains the iconic American wine—are places where beautiful cabernet can be found.

Of course, there are plenty of other cabernets to appreciate, including its aromatic progenitor, franc. But now is most certainly a time to keep California in mind. And whether you love or hate cabernet, it’s the perfect time to be thankful for this grape—and its role in paving the way for American wine.