One of the most common send-backs in restaurants and bars involves wine, with one grape varietal in particular. Someone orders a glass of zinfandel, and when 6 ounces of deep ruby-red juice shows up instead of something pinker in color, there are two sentences that occasionally follow: "I didn’t order this. I ordered zinfandel."
In this case, there is no right or wrong. It’s true they did order zinfandel, probably thinking of white zinfandel - the popular pink and fruity cold blush wine. But it’s also true they got a zinfandel, one made from the same grape they’d been thinking of, only in its jammy, peppery, and full-bodied glory. And it’s just that intense dark expression of the grape that we’ll focus on here as cooler weather makes us turn to heartier wines.
For starters, zinfandel is a thin-skinned, extremely touchy kind of grape. It loves to bask in warm, Mediterranean climates, often stressing its way through cracked soil on old vines – 50, 70, 100 plus years old. The grape is notoriously inconsistent, finicky and prone to rot, but also praised for its ability to do best when harvested slightly over-ripened.
Bottled, many zins hover around 14.5 percent alcohol. To get that kind of kick in a wine, sugar levels at the time of harvest must be high – a good indication the grapes may have been on their way to raisin-hood.
Nowhere else in the world does zinfandel thrive like it does in California. While we’ve linked the grape’s DNA to southern Italy’s primitivo varietal (they are actually one in the same), it’s impossible to argue with the strides Californians have made with zin since its arrival during the Gold Rush in the 1850s. From a simple pink wine to a complex, beastly and alcoholic red to a port-like sweet and sticky sipper, Californians have done it every which way. They have adopted the grape as their own, harnessed its true potential, put it on the map and they continue to run with it today.
Characteristically, zinfandel almost always begins with an unmistakable berry jam and black pepper nose. Dig deeper and you’ll find notes of bell pepper, chocolate, coffee, and earth layered throughout. There are moments when a zin can claw at your gums and draw the saliva from your tongue, but the dark, ripe fruit will almost always dominate the tannins. That’s the true magic of a good zin.
As for food, we’re coming into a great season for zin. Go for it with grilled meats and poultry; hard, nutty cheeses; and pastas with hearty red sauces. Stay away from lighter fare, but also keep in mind it’s not quite as big as, say, a monster cab. So it probably wouldn’t be an ideal match for a thick, fatty steak that’s screaming for tannins. Go middle of the road in weight with your food – maybe even lean a bit to the heavy side – but don’t tip the scale.