2013 Antica Terra Ceras Willamette Valley Pinot Noir

Justin Bothur

9.1

Sweet tobacco , cherry pie, leather and cola.

May 20th, 2018

Isaac Pirolo

9.7

It’s usually a good sign when the winemaker can articulate what the wine is about like this: “Ceras is Botanica’s counterpoint. Its color is more purple than red. It is more about minerals and herbs than fruit and flowers. It is a focused and elegant distillation of rock rather than an opulent cascade of fruit. It is an expression of the geology that lays beneath our land, the tart blue fruits of the coast range and the tender herbs that one finds amongst the trees and mushrooms of the Northwest forest.”

Her 2013 Ceras is yet another example of Maggie Harrison’s sorcery over the vines at Antica Terra. The focus and intensity of flavor is off the charts, yet it maintains an almost ethereal weightlessness, only emphasizing the layer of silk that separates you from the wine. The pungent rock is so on point and distinctive it instantly reminded me of the scent of lichen growing on rocks, which I experienced in Colorado when I was 7 or 8 years old. This sets the stage for the level of complexity exhibited. The fruit has both an extraordinarily high level of purity and yet the woven tapestry of herbs and spices and even fruit blending are impossible not to notice. The key being that nothing is forced.

The nuance of complexity only being noticed when desired is nearly an impossible feat. I can’t help but recall James Conaway quoting Andy Beckstoffer in his recently released book: Napa at Last Light: America’s Eden in an Age of Calamity. “If a wine was a model with a chipped tooth, you’d have to give her something to compensate with. If she needs better shoulders, better breasts, give her some. But her real charm is in how she carries the defect.”

After reading his book, I can tell you I’m definitely not certain whether you can accept his quotes verbatim. One thing is certain, though, Maggie Harrison’s Antica Terra wines carry the defect like no other.