By Charles Olken

Forty years ago, when California discovered that the path to glory for Cabernet Sauvignon lay in French oak barrels and elevated levels of tannin, Petite Sirah was writing its own chapter. It was pretending to be the true Syrah, and it had the astringency to prove it.

California’s flirtation with overweaning power gave way a decade later to the “food wine” movement in which muscle was bad and wimpy wines were good. We may be heading in that direction again, and the reasons will be similar. Power will have gotten out of hand, and those whose preference is for wimpy wines have come out of the closet. It is a kind of vinous ying and yang that seems to be repeated with every new generation of wine drinkers.

But this time, Petite Sirah is not the culprit, and therein lies the rub. Petite Sirah, no matter how carefully it is made, is not going to produce easy-drinking wine, and it is no candidate for elevated acidities, reduced ripeness and adherence to the new paradigm of less potent wines. Petite Sirah, it must be said, is simply going to displease those loud voices who are leading us back towards the “food wine” end of the spectrum. Please understand, this column is no attack on those folks. Rather, my purpose is to claim the high ground among wine journalists by insisting that not all wines need to be alike. And in so doing, I would point to Petite Sirah as a wine that will lose its soul if it goes the way of “moderation”.

So, back off, you “voices of reason”, I like Petite Sirah and here is why--

1. A thick New York steak with crushed peppercorns pressed into its flesh, grilled in a black skillet over a hot flame and napped in a reduced Cognac sauce. We served this dish with Petite Sirah recently—brilliant. We served it with Cabernet Sauvignon almost as recently—not so brilliant.

2. Personality. If Petite Sirah does not have that distinct personality, a winery labels it as Petite Sirah at its own risk.

3. The days when every Petite Sirah was so brawny and thick that you could cut it with a hack saw are long gone. Now, a simple steak knife will do.

4. We make Petite Sirah better than the French. Never mind that a Frenchman concocted it out of the marriage between Syrah and Peloursin. Petite Sirah is apparently too strong a taste for the French.

5. Did I say “steak”? Yes, even in this era of eating less red meat, I like the occasional steak, and I like Petite Sirah with my steak.

6. That inventive Frenchman was named Durif. He named the resulting grape after himself. Here in California, we were smart enough to call it something else.

7. When the high-powered wine movement of the 1970s died out, Petite Sirah started to disappear from California vineyards but a band of hearty souls who could not abide wimpy food wines saved it. For years, Petite Sirah was practically an underground cult wine. Petite Sirah has legs apparently—very sturdy legs.

8. Petite Sirah has never lost its potency, but it has gained in relative sophistication. It loss of popularity was, truthfully, caused in part by too much brawn. Its wines are now better able to be enjoyed without the aid of your dentist.

9. Man cannot live on Pinot Noir alone.

10. Did I mention steak au poivre?