top of page
Search

Outlaw Grapes


Few stories in wine combine ambition and risk quite like suitcase clones - vine cuttings carried across borders by growers convinced they had found material capable of improving their vineyards. Wine is built on lineage, and in places like Burgundy, certain vineyards - Montrachet, Romanée-Conti, La Tâche - are spoken of as though greatness can be traced through generations of vines, farming, and careful replanting. The reputation of these vineyards extended well beyond their borders, and for many growers the vines themselves became objects of fascination; they believed the right plant material could elevate their wines and allow the terroir of their own vineyards to reach its full potential. Some of the vineyards that helped shape modern American wine began with cuttings tucked into luggage and carried through customs with a simple declaration: “nothing to declare.”


The term “suitcase clone” refers to vine material brought into the United States unofficially and secretly by growers who sought access to European selections not otherwise available through official channels. Sometimes the cuttings were wrapped in damp newspaper and carried quietly through customs; officially, the practice violated agricultural regulations designed to prevent the spread of pests and disease. The risks were real. Viticulture has already lived through the consequences of uncontrolled plant movement - most notably phylloxera - which is why modern vineyards depend heavily on quarantine systems and certified nursery stock. Even so, several important vineyards and wines in modern American wine history owe part of their identity to vine material that arrived outside those systems.


During the 1970s and 1980s, as California producers searched for greater complexity and ageability, attention increasingly turned toward Burgundy and Bordeaux and the vine material associated with some of Europe’s most respected vineyards. One of the best-known stories involves Josh Jensen and Calera Wine Company. After studying at Domaine de la Romanée-Conti and Domaine Dujac, Jensen reportedly brought Pinot Noir cuttings connected to vineyards in the Côte d’Or back to California; stories often trace the material to Vosne-Romanée and even Romanée-Conti, though the precise origins remain difficult to verify decades later. The material was eventually planted in the limestone-rich soils of Mount Harlan and became foundational to wines such as Calera Jensen Vineyard Pinot Noir and Selleck Vineyard Pinot Noir.


But there is more. . . The Mount Eden selection, tied to Burgundian material originally brought to California by Paul Masson in the late nineteenth century, became central to Mount Eden Vineyards Estate Pinot Noir in the Santa Cruz Mountains, while the Swan selection, associated with Joseph Swan’s Trenton Estate Vineyard in the Russian River Valley, became known for its aromatic complexity and texture and has appeared in wines from producers including Kistler, Littorai, Rochioli, and Williams Selyem. Chardonnay has its own version of the story; the Wente selection, now among California’s most widely planted Chardonnay lineages, traces back to French vine material imported during the nineteenth century and propagated through Wente Vineyards in Livermore Valley. Over time, Wente-derived material became associated with benchmark California Chardonnays from producers such as Kistler, Stony Hill, and Peter Michael.


The same pursuit extended beyond Burgundy. As Napa Valley producers turned their attention toward Bordeaux-inspired wines, growers sought French Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Cabernet Franc, Petit Verdot, and Malbec material capable of producing more structured, age-worthy wines. Pahlmeyer became part of that history through founder Jayson Pahlmeyer, a lawyer by training, who sought to build a Napa wine capable of standing alongside the leading wines of Bordeaux. According to accounts of the estate’s early years, Bordeaux vine material associated with the project was purposefully moved through Canada and driven down to California. This caper of a story includes border inspections, vines from a local Home Depot (or Lowe’s) that were reportedly used as a decoy when authorities became suspicious, and a pinch of audacity.


Oregon was not to be left out;  before Dijon clones became widely available through official channels, some growers sought Burgundian material more directly. Hyland Vineyard, planted in 1971 in Oregon’s McMinnville AVA, became one of the state's most important repositories of early vine material, including own-rooted Pommard and Wädenswil Pinot Noir. The vineyard also contains the so-called Coury clones - Riesling, Gewürztraminer, and Pinot Noir material associated with Charles Coury, who brought vine cuttings from Alsace to Oregon during the 1960s and early 1970s. According to long-circulated Oregon wine history, Coury carried the cuttings back himself in a suitcase, after studying in Europe, convinced the cool-climate material would thrive in the Willamette Valley. Fruit from Hyland has since appeared in bottlings from producers such as Walter Scott, Morgen Long, Hyland Estates, and others.


They weren't trying to recreate Burgundy or Bordeaux; they were looking for iconic plant material that they believed would thrive in their vineyards. In the cases above, time has proven them right - the vines thrived and the wines speak for themselves. Sharing these stories with guests is a sommelier’s dream because they add an outlaw, dangerous or audacious, intrigue element to the wine's place at the table; suddenly, the conversation moves beyond vintage and vineyard designation - to an espionage tale. The aura of intrigue adds a little spice to the moment; the bottle becomes connected to a grower willing to tuck cuttings into a suitcase, a customs line crossed with a straight face, and a vineyard half a world away where part of the story began. . .


 
 
 

Comments


bottom of page