Wild Sun has some wild ideas, and some truly exceptional wines

Regular readers of this blog will know that we’ve spent a lot of time in wineries over the years, but that Americans haven't fared so well in reviews. We were particularly disappointed in northern California. It may come as a shock to find that I rate Missouri wineries, overall, above their much-lauded Western competitors. Admittedly, the wine might not be quite as good, but the overall customer experience is better, you're more likely to end up talking to someone who was actually involved in making the stuff, and the industry in my home state just seems to be trying harder. To see what I mean, head to Wild Sun Winery in Hillsboro, Missouri.

This place trashes a lot of convention. It's not in the "Missouri Rhineland". It doesn't grow its own grapes. It concentrates on dry reds when the easiest wines to produce here are white or sweet. It matures in French barrels even though Missouri is a major barrel producer for the global drinks industry and is home to the world's largest barrel manufacturer. So if you're a pedant about terroir you may have issues with Wild Sun. But when the owners of the Audubon's Hotel in Saint Genevieve, who clearly knew their way around a wine list, said they didn't really rate Missouri wine but thought the guys at Wild Sun were in an entirely different league, we ditched our original holiday itinerary to visit. It was worth the trip. 

Through years leading winemaking at many of Missouri's top brands, owner Mark Baehmann shaped his opinions and fueled his ambitions. This is his breakaway to do something different, in partnership with co-owner and company president Ed Wagner. They describe Wild Sun as a winery in Missouri rather than a Missouri winery. It's a subtle but powerful difference, reinforced by having a "wine educator" on staff for tastings and sales. Rodney was a delight: offering the kind of insight we get from European makers, going deep into detail on production, seasonal variations and cellaring potential, and calling Mark and the staff over to interact. Our only comparable experience in the States was our exceptional tasting at Merry Edwards. 

The wines are as good as the patter; a variety of sophisticated, nuanced offerings that bring out distinctions in grape variety and maker's style. Chardonel is typical in Missouri but aging in French oak barrels (far more expensive) is not. My husband and I had a debate over whether it tasted like a Cote de Beaune or a Macon, a conversation I don't believe we've ever had over an American wine. Wild Sun coaxes similar complexities out of their Chambourcin and Norton on the red side, banishing much of the thin astringency that makes many Missouri reds unappealing. Most fascinating on the dry front was their Crying Stone Cab Sauv, made with grapes from Washington but aged in French Oak barrels over Missouri limestone. Terroir goes global. All of these wines would benefit from, and could easily take, maturing for several years in a cellar. (Another issue we have with American wines is that, to our tastes, they’re almost always drunk too young.) 

We were already amazed, but the wine that sent us reeling was their tawny “port”. Clearly setting their sights on fame for their dry reds, it's understandable that they're a bit hesitant to talk too much about their sweet wines. Sweet is common in Missouri, and most of it is sickly, alcoholic Kool-Aid chugged by summer tourists on their way to getting embarrassingly drunk. The nuance of a single glass, quaffed slowly at the end of the meal with nuts and cheese to bring the night to an elegant conclusion is generally unknown. To be honest, I’m not sure I knew what port was before I moved to England and it took a lot of tastings to appreciate the nuances of the more exclusive tawny. And yet Wild Sun's Icarus is on par with our "house" William Pickering and could hold its head up against any tawny in Porto. Those are the bottles we bought, already anticipating the shock value of revealing origin at the end of some future Christmas dinner. 

If money and shipping had been no issue, we would have bought half a case each of the other wines mentioned above, put them in the cellar for at least two years and then brought one out annually to see how they develop. Their potential is fascinating, as it is for the whole winery, which is less than a decade old. But space, and an epic low in the value of the pound, limited our choices. No matter how good American wine can be, Europeans will always have an issue with its value for money. For a variety of reasons, from taxation to shipping, labour costs to investment models, or just plain marketing strategies, good American wine is expensive. We can, almost always, get the fine Burgundies and Bordeaux that the Americans are emulating for less per bottle than the emulators. 

But American wineries are about a lot more than the wine. They are destinations. Places to go drink, eat and party with your friends on sunny afternoons. Many do a thriving trade in weddings and special events.  Enormous tasting rooms, sprawling decks, massive restaurants and wine-themed gift emporiums attest to this. It is a very long way from a gruff old French man pouring you a glass on a barrel top in the corner of his working barn. (Although, to be fair, we’re starting to see this American-style diversification from English wineries and there’s many an Italian vineyard hosting destination weddings.) Wild Sun has also covered the hospitality, with decks and patio areas surrounding their historic house and an archway-framed lawn ready for nuptials. You can get food and take in views of a charming barn and wooded hillsides.

Some other wine experiences from our holiday deserve a mention, though nobody else’s wine was as exciting as Wild Sun’s.

Cave Vineyard

The USP for this vineyard and distillery about 40 minutes’ drive from St. Genevieve, Missouri, is the eponymous cave. Pack your picnic, choose your bottle in the tasting room, take a 15-minute downhill stroll through woodland and end up in the enormous mouth of a natural limestone cave. Sit in its depths and the opening is like an enormous movie screen showing off the landscape outside. With yellow, red and  orange leaves fluttering downward in a steady autumn wind, the scene was beguiling. Although we didn’t benefit from what would clearly be the high season appeal: a naturally air-conditioned party space in Missouri’s oppressively hot and sticky summer.  The family owners here follow an Italian style, with their most distinctive wine being a dessert offering somewhere between a white port, a vin santo and a grappa, ideal for dunking cantucci. Their dry rose was also excellent, though wouldn’t last long, and they do a very slightly sweet Cave Rock Red that gentles the sharp tannins of most Missouri reds without being too sugary. 

Stone Hill Winery

I so want to like Stone Hill Winery. Sitting at the highest point above Hermann, it’s the oldest winery in the state (1847) and has the rather remarkable credential of having been named the best red wine in the world at the Vienna World’s Fair in 1873. Prohibition killed the industry, however, and it wasn’t until 1965 that the business started back up. It’s now the largest winery in Missouri and the label you’re most likely to see generally available in grocery stores. Their grounds have lovely views over Hermann and the Missouri River valley. They have a great gift shop. Our tasting server was young, eager to learn her craft and quickly put us in touch with her manager when our questions outpaced her knowledge. (But then listened keenly to our conversation so she could learn.)

Problem is, I don’t like any of their wines. The range on offer epitomises what bothers me about Missouri wines: either too sweet or painfully, puckeringly dry; served too young; obvious with the sharp local oak. The lovely and highly knowledgeable manager knew exactly where I was coming from, and pointed me to some Norton vintages from the ‘00s he swore aged just like Burgundies. But for the same price I could go to my local vendor upon returning home and procure a 2018 premier cru Pommard. I am just not willing to make the financial bet that the Missouri grape is ever going to mature that well. Sadly, the result of this wine lover’s tasting at Stone Hill was a retreat to the excellent beer selection at Tin Mill Brewery for the rest of the afternoon.

Cooper’s Hawk Winery and Restaurant

More a concept restaurant than a real winery, but worth mentioning both for the quality of the wine and the food. This was one of our best meals on the whole trip, notable for the variety in the menu, the balance and presentation of the plates and the amount of vegetables. (If you’re going to vacation in Missouri, you’re going to eat a lot of meat, carb and cheese comfort combos.) But there is a winery at the back of the idea. It’s an industrial facility in Northern Illinois that, like the Wild Sun team, buys in grapes and concentrates only on the making part. Cooper’s Hawk produces a huge range of varieties and from what we tasted, and talked about with our server, they’re going for the most typical, drinkable profile for each. (We loved their Pinot Grigio and the way it paired across the variety we were eating.) 

We appreciated the way every dish on the menu had a suggested by-the-glass pairing, and we found the prices remarkably reasonable: on average $10 for a large glass and $30 for a bottle. The expansive menu ranged across salads, meats, impressive seafood options (considering we were in Springfield, Illinois), pasta, smaller plates we’d recognise as individual first courses, even a light-bites selection of tasty yet healthy offerings. All this was enjoyed in an enormous but elegant dining room in sophisticated mushroom and rose tones that somehow reminded me of a grown-up Cheesecake Factory. This branch, and one assumes all, had a tasting room and shop out front, a sports bar for faster or more casual evenings and private dining rooms visible through glass walls.  

My tortilla soup and chopped wedge salad was one of my best meals of the trip, and I looked enviously across the table at my father’s seared Ahi tuna, left properly rare in the centre. Food prices were surprisingly reasonable as well. The majority of our meals this trip were in diners and other humble, comfort food-focused places, yet Cooper’s Hawk was only marginally more expensive once you factored in total cost of alcohol and service. On the value for money front, this winery cum restaurant is a winner and we’d happily return if we found ourselves in a town with one of their expanding network.