The Visit Of Giusto from COS
COS was originally an enterprise of three 20-something school chums from Sicily. They inherited a small clump of vines in Vittoria and set out to make wines typical of the region. Bit by bit two of the original partners (the other left to run a restaurant) have acquired further acreage of vines and olive trees.
The region of Cerasuolo di Vittoria has a remarkable microclimate. Whereas grapes in Marsala are being harvested in mid August, the harvest at COS finishes in November and yet a quick inspection of a map of Sicily will reveal that Vittoria is south of the northern tip of Africa. The vineyards are relatively close to the sea and bear a distinct maritime imprint with the wine displaying beautiful aromatic freshness and almost cool fruit flavours.
Giusto waxes lyrical on the benefits, real and moral, of biodynamic viticulture. Biodynamics for him is inextricably tied to a sense of place; the wines must always have personality and naturally reveal where they come from. They should be derived from the auchothonous grape varieties: in this case Frappato and Nero d’Avola for the reds and Grecanico and Inzolia for the white. Giusto is adamant that interventions in the winery should be kept to a minimum. The COS wines are neither filtered nor fined; wild yeasts are used in the fermentation and there is no addition of sulphur at the bottling. The winery is gradually abandoning oak and stainless as fermentation and ageing vessels in favour of the traditional amphora, the idea is that the clay jars allow the wines to breathe naturally.
Pithos, a typical Cerasuolo blend of 60% Nero d’Avola and 40% Frappato, is fermented in large clay amphorae. It is a beautiful wine with a delightful nose of sweet violets and a whisper of spiced cherries. The wine is very smooth, almost silky and the bright berry flavours cascade over the tongue to their lip-smacking conclusion. The nose has a haunting perfume combining red fruits of great purity with fine minerally, spicy, earthy notes that frame the fruit quite precisely. Think of the aromatic profile of a great red Burgundy, warmed up a notch or two by the sun. It’s the sort of nose you can keep returning to, and each time you attend you get something different. The palate is medium bodied and savoury, with an elegant earthiness. The classic Cerasuolo is lighter in colour with a touch more acidity and bite; here is a mixture of stony fruit and vibrant minerality. Nero di Lupo is 100% Nero d’Avola, but, like its brothers and sisters, is light and assured on its feet. Perhaps the fruit here veers towards the damsons and plums, perhaps there is a greater sensation of warmth on the palate, but the balance is very fine and the finish remarkably fresh. Harvested from 35-40 year old densely-planted vines on tufa-rich soil, Syri is a single vineyard wine kept in oak barrels from twenty four months and in the bottle for at least another six. It displays the wonderful balance between a full-bodied, spicy wine that is also fruity at the same time. This is also a highly nuanced wine suggestive of pomegranate, clove and even pink peppercorns; it is bolted together by fine minerality which makes the wine live in the mouth for a long time.
The red wines are traditionally paired with lamb dishes, but it is not fanciful to imagine the Cerasuolo lightly chilled with a swordfish steak cooked with tomatoes and olives.
The real surprise, however, is the white wine called Rami Bianco, made from an equal blend of Inzolia and Grecanico. Giusto remarks that this wine is best with a few years under its belt when the impact of the Inzolia comes to the fore. Initially it seems fairly restrained, with notes of almond and straw whilst on the palate it is brisk and decisive with a vital attack, with a concentrated fruit quality that has a real tell-tale Italian bitter almond, or even Campari-like edge, to cool pear and lemon fruit. Where are the clams? Send in the clams.
Terroir & Wine - Making It Real
“Whatever people in general do not understand, they are always prepared to dislike; the incomprehensible is always the obnoxious.”
~Letitia E. Landon, author (1802-1838)
Earlier this year we put together a tasting of real wine, inviting small independent growers from France and Italy to display and discuss their wares. Few trade tastings have a focus so we decided to look for a specific strong theme. All the growers seemed to be very much “growers” rather than “winemakers”. They would rather talk about the particularity of their region and their vineyards than discuss vinification techniques. They were all to a man and woman adamant about promoting biodiversity, all of them eschewed chemical treatments in the vineyard and many were active in various organic and biodynamic movements. To call them organic growers, however, would not be strictly accurate - “organic” has become a vacant political buzzword and the intellectual property of bureaucratic agencies - without proper certification, even if they were purer than pure and holier than thou, the term wouldn�t legally stick. Besides, the word organic diminished rather than elevated the enterprise in question; organic is a proscriptive term; most of the growers in question were considerably more proactive in the vineyard with sustainable methodologies promoting biodiversity. Several were working en biodynamie. But then biodynamics is a complex philosophy from which even its most ardent proponents tend to cherry-pick certain aspects.
The word “natural” was bandied about. Natural wines - Natural is an airy-fairy term used willy-nilly in crass marketing campaigns - such as “natural shampoo”. Eventually, we settled on the expression “real wine” which had both positive connotations, but also made the important distinction between the products that we were showing and standardised, over-manipulated wines.
So what is Real Wine? In one sense Real Wine is the antithesis or antidote to mass-produced, branded wines and the prevalent pretentious modern style of over-manipulated, over-flavoured, over-acidified, over-harvested, over-filtered and over-oaked wines that seem to dominate the shelves of the supermarkets and high streets.
Real wine, however, is not simply a broad counter-blast; it is a set of ideas underpinned by certain strong ethical principles. Although the practices in the vines and the cellars could never be codified in a strict charter, there is a rational attempt to tie together essential common practice. The priorities are: the life of the soil; a search for terroir; selection massale; the attachment to historic grape varieties and the refusal of the increasing trend to plant standard varieties; the use of organic treatments; the search for good vine health through natural balance; the refusal of GMOs; the prudent use of chemical plant treatments; the search for full maturity; manual harvests; the respect for the variability of vintages; the refusal to chaptalize systematically; natural fermentations; a sparing or zero use of SO2; minimum or no filtration; the refusal of standard definition of taste of wines by certain enological or market trends; the possibility of experimenting and questioning different aspects of work; respect of history, of roots.
It seemed a good idea to unite growers who practised these principles under one flag, but what was initially a feel-good notion began to assume clearer intellectual shape over the course of the next few months. Such crystallisation linked into and was reinforced by a clearer understanding of the nature of our wine epiphanies; those sublime moments when you are drinking something and are pulled up short by the sheer deliciousness of the wine and emit an uncritical joyful wow! The simplicity of the reaction somehow testifies to its immediacy: “You would want to drink the whole bottle” as our Eric saliently observes, or, as a winemaker famously said: “The best bottle on the table is the empty bottle”. In a certain respect we were beginning to taste wine in a more intuitive and less evaluative fashion.
We began to identify certain organoleptic similarities between our favourite wines. Displaying lightness and purity of the fruit and exalted levels of acidity, these were nutritious wines that skated lightly and brightly across the palate as opposed to the mesomorphic, lignified, indigestible specimens designed to acquire trinkets at tastings. In an age where wines were naturally reaching high levels of alcohol, we were discovering that some wines could be lean, fresh, mineral and utterly satisfying, and that certain growers, by using plot-by-plot knowledge of their vineyards and by having an acute awareness of their diverse microclimatic subtleties, could produce gentle, restrained, expressive wines no matter how difficult the vintage. The true grower was also one who would restrict or eliminate invasive interventions in the winery and we increasingly identified with vignerons who would use oak sparingly (or not at all).
The further you venture into the world of real wine the more layers of artifice you want to strip away. Ideally, real wines would have nothing added but also nothing taken away. The fermentations would use natural yeasts and the wines would neither be filtered nor fined and the additions of sulphur would be either minimal or zero.
We began tasting wines that were either protean, shifting according the mood and the weather, or were vital, prickly, tricky, edgy. Of course, you could identify technical faults: some volatility here, some reduction or a touch of brett there, but they tasted real and alive with their own blood pumping through them as opposed to the pinchbeck wines that we had grown accustomed to and somehow formerly revered as stylish and polished.
Once you get over the notion that wine has to be somehow perfectible and can be pieced together by laboratory clinicians like a chemical jigsaw puzzle then you can accept the wine for what it is. Human beings are not flawless; where is the rule that says that wines should be?
The winemakers, sorry, vignerons, under the real wine banner, are as part of an extended family. Unlike movements which promote only narrow regional interests these farmers are creating a substantive alternative ethical platform. They are passionate, even religious in their non-conformist conviction that real wine is made in the vineyard and the result of their endeavours is kind of natural truth: to restore true knowledge and to bring terroir back to life so that winegrowers and consumers can rediscover the pleasures of finding authenticity in wine. The growers are quite prickly about the critics, consultants and wine-buyers whom they view as apologists for globalism and consumer acceptance panels. One can understand their antipathy; they see an incestuous relationship between corporate interests and the media. They read about spoofed up, manufactured wines that receive critical plaudits, whilst their own wines are often dismissed patronisingly as being “quirky” or “commercially irrelevant”.
It is fashionable to debunk terroir. A lot of scientists think it’s a myth and yet educated consumers and producers are finding out that the taste of wine, its harmony, its beauty and its elegance stem from a qualitative world whose origins are intangible. These qualities cannot be slapped onto a wine as one replaces a layer of paint. Quality comes from an organised and intangible whole, which extends to the grapes only when certain laws that generate life on earth are respected. It is the aggregate of all the things that are not done to the wine with nature’s sublime genius (if you will) that makes the wine more real. Real wine is about naked typicity, the ultimate respect for the processes of nature.
Les Caves de Pyrene Mainly Italian Tasting
We chose a very pleasant if not commodious venue for our autumn mini-tasting, a private room at The Only Running Footman in Charles Street in Mayfair, an excellent restaurant-gastropub owned by the Meredith group. Never wishing to make it too easy on ourselves the slender list of wannashow wines grew and grew until we had veritably ransacked the heart and guts of our Italian agency list. Relatively speaking it was still a pint-sized production; unlike some of our wine merchant confreres who display several hundred wines in prestigious locations we were fairly modest in our ambition, our focus simply to show the many different grapes and terroirs of Italy (linked again by the notion of real wines)
I like Metternich’s observation that Italy is a geographical expression. To demonstrate the exhilarating variety of Italian wines you must touch every boundary and explore the very nooks and crannies of this diverse and diverting country. From the communes of Valle d’Aosta, nestling on the Swiss border, to the baking volcanic plug of Pantelleria swept by hot winds off the Sahara, every corner of Italy throws up a grape variety, a quirky tradition or some delicious vinous ambuscado that keeps the most jaded palate on taste-bud tenterhooks.
Although we didn’t know it at the time our tasting was conducted on a fruit day on the Maria Thun calendar. The wines showed beautifully, which is a mixed blessing, because now I am going to refer and defer to the aforementioned calendar like an oracle. This may mean that my activity in the tasting field is severely curtailed!
Every tasting throws up highlights; these were mine:
2004 Chaude Lune, Vin de Glace, Cave de Vin Blanc
An ice wine from Valle d’Aosta? From the Prie Blanc grape harvested in December when the vineyards are swathed in snow. Unusually, it is the wine that is the vehicle for the wood rather than the other way round, and, in this case, cherry, juniper and chestnut amongst others lend their subtle tones to the finished product. It has a delicious burnished apple flavour, not dissimilar to a Tokaji. Throw a servant on the roaring log fire and sip this elixir with some hot roasted chestnuts whilst humming a few bars of “Edelweiss”.
2004 Torrette Superiore Vigni di Torrette, Cantina di Barro
This wine is homage to the original Torrette grown on the slopes of Monte Torrette. Opaque crimson-red, it delivers a rich, unctuous nose of strawberries and liquorice with chunky, meaty notes (seasoned by herbs). This wine exhibits a wild Rhone-like feel with powerful but beautifully-integrated tannins and the wood is a just one part of the whole.
2006 Kuenhof Veltliner, Peter Pliger, Alto-Adige
Peter Pliger’s wines seem to embody the clarity of the Dolomites as they rise up spectacularly from the Valle Isarco. The descriptor mineral is oft overused, but this Gruner Veltliner wine exemplifies all that is sternly stony. A whiff of meadow-grass, a sniff of peach-kernel, maybe a suggestion of honeysuckle, some pepper and dried ginger undercut by firm slice of Dolomitic minerality. Conventually pure, as the advert used to say. And more biodynamic than you can shake a dung-filled cow’s horn at.
2004 Granato Foradori, Trentino
Granato, from the Teroldego grape, is a wine of strength, harmony, depth and nobility. Deep, almost shy on the first nose, it reveals itself as the aromas come into focus: wild berries and candied fruit make way for roasted hazelnuts, baked bread, leather, eucalyptus and pomegranate, then the full robust palate shows plenty of temptingly chewy flesh.
2005 Vitovska, Benjamin Zidarich, Friuli
Carso is a limestone-rich plateau that extends out from the city of Trieste and reaches toward the Julian Alps to the north. The heavy limestone content of the soils likely gave the zone its name (Carso is thought to be derived from a Celtic word meaning “land of rock"), and it lends the wines, both white and red, a firm acidic backbone and mouth-watering minerality. Vitovska is part macerated on the skins for twelve to fifteen days. It has a fine, delicate, fruity nose suggestive of plums, yellow cherries and poire william, followed by a palate with an upfront entry as you might expect from a variety that shares its environment with the bora gales that batter the coast. This wine says “Drink me” and your palate will be forever “unjaded”. - Start practising that cep risotto recipe.
2002 Brunello di Montalcino, Il Paradiso di Manfredi
Il Paradiso di Manfredi today is one of the best expressions of traditional Brunello di Montalcino. Viticulture and vineyard rhythm is effectively biodynamic. Pesticides and weedkillers are eschewed, the waxing and waning of the moon determines activity in the vineyard and the winery. They hand-pick the grapes (the wild ferment takes place in concrete vats ( no temperature control! ) after which the wine spends 36/40 months in big casks of Slavonian oak (25/30 hl).
The wines are everything you hope for great Sangiovese displaying wicked wild cherry fruit along with notes of herbs, leather, liquorice, pepper and spice and nascent prune, tar and tobacco aromas. It’s so savoury that the food you are thinking of cooks and presents itself at the table.
A wine made out of love in a difficult vintage.
1997 Il San Lorenzo, Verdicchio dei Castelli di Jesi Riserva, Fattoria San Lorenzo
This vintage Verdicchio is as mad as a Marche Hare. The presence of oldies but goldies confirms that this is Verdicchio that acquires profound wisdom with age, when all the discrete flavour components have melded to create a wine that is beautifully mysterious, not unlike old Chablis, old Vouvray or old Trebbi-valentini. Firstly, pour into a carafe and allow the wine to reach traditional cellar temperature. Nosing this you receive the impact of warm, bready aromas and the distinctive cut of iodine; the palate reinforces this and there are some nice hints of citrus peel and nut lingering around. Fantastic long finish; the acidity sashays around your mouth for some time and thrums your gums in a friendly fashion. If it’s a ten year Verdicchio it’s barely out of nappies.
2002 Trebbiano d’Abruzzo, Edoardo Valentini
The lowly Trebbiano grape, overcropped everywhere across Italy, becomes world-quality, refined, and ageworthy in Edoardo Valentini’s (and now Francesco’s) hands in Abruzzo. The wine, best after years in a cool cellar, shows a kaleidoscope of flavours that are creamy and crisp at once, ranging from freshly toasted hazelnuts to coconut shavings, and has an underlying bracing acidity that lends it an uncanny capacity to age. But let’s pour a glass of this beautiful wine and test the evolution. Give it a little time to open and out comes that elegant, minerally nose with ripe citrus aromas. Take a sip and experience how full and mouthfilling it is, how piquant and almost fat (but not quite). Note how refined the flavours are, how intensely they are rendered by its swathe of acidity, the sort that gives wines like this great potential for improvement with age. Observe how long the minerally finish is with its notes of hazelnut and liquorice. Nick Belfrage describes Valentini’s Trebbiano as the quality equivalent of a very fine white Cote de Beaune. With crooked bells on, I would have thought.
2003 Vigna Paradiso Lacrima di Morra d’Alba, San Lorenzo
The fascinating name of the Lacrima Morra d’Alba is derived from the variety of the same name, the Lacrima, a native of the district. It is reputed to be of extremely ancient origin (o best beloved) and is still cultivated only in the commune of Morro d’Alba in the province of Ancona and the territories of neighbouring communities. The use of the “governo Toscano” is recommended in making the wine. The method involves the inducement of a second fermentation of the wine, following racking, through the addition of a certain quantity of must pressed from selected and partly dried grapes. The addition must be made no later than December 31st of the year of the harvest. The Vigna Paradiso Lacrima is a different vale of tears. Much Lacrima is dilute, confected and semi-sweet, whereas this version, made from yields of one bunch per vine, is fermented dry, has a snappy, rasping personality and chockfull of cherry goodness.
2005 Cerasuolo di Vittoria, COS, Sicily
A beautiful lively ruby-red wine combining the floral nature of the Frappato grape (violets, cherry-blossom) with the black fruits flavours of the Nero d�Avola. The wine drives across the palate with a gratifying crispness; it is never heavy, and its fruity flavours are also lifted by the subtle notes of crushed minerals and dried herbs. A revelation if you believe that Sicilian reds are nothing more than jam spread of toast(ed) oak.
Predictions for 2008
Prognosticator of Prognosticators - Predictions for 2008
An oenomancer sifts the sediment for a flavour of things to come…
*Watch the exchange rate - prices may have to rise considerably in real terms for the first time in years.
*We will finally get bored with the cork/stelvin debate. With the confusing web of conflicting evidence and the buzzing hive of bees-in-bonnets we won’t know who to believe or what to think. As it should be.
*There will be no trendy grape variety of the year, but Chardonnay, in particular, white Burgundy, will re-emerge as a not-so-guilty pleasure.
*My outside tip on the red region/grape will be Beaujolais/Gamay. You heard it here first and last.
*There will be a mind-boggling number of silly new brands launched with facile packaging.
*A winery in California makes the first 100+ RP wine. It’s called Screaming Ripoff.
*Ever more estates will convert to organic and biodynamic viticulture.
*The press wake up to the fact that Italian wines can be amazing. No, that’s a dream not a prediction.
*No-one wakes up to the fact that Argentinean reds are largely a bunch of over-oaked, over-extracted fruit bombs.
*Spain will continue to promise more than it can deliver.
*Celebrity endorsements of brands will continue to increase.
*There will be another major Cloudy Bay marketing initiative because we all desperately need one.
*Supermarkets and high street chains will continue with their pricing prestidigitation. Forget the BOGOFS, 3 for 2s, and all the other promotional malarkey, just present honest prices with honest margins - if you dare.
Diary of An Occasional Wine Bibber
My new year’s resolution is straightforward: I have resolved not to drink any bad wines. This means as much determining whether I am in the mood on a given day to drink at all, as an unreceptive palate can transform even pure gold into base drosswein. Ha, who am I kidding? I reckon that if one disciplines oneself by choosing carefully what one eats and drinks it helps to sharpen one’s palate. If you taste, and worse, drink bad wines, your palate eventually becomes lazy because the obviousness of the wine repeatedly bludgeons a particular response from you. With experience I have tried to short-circuit disappointment - I find myself drinking within an increasingly narrow spectrum. I have an intuition for what is good and what I will probably enjoy - at a given moment and thus I am rarely disappointed, which doesn’t mean I want to hunt obsessively for great wines (whatever they are); my mood, as often as not, veers towards the easy charms of honest rusticity: “I am not fond, for everyday at least, of racy, heady wines that diffuse a potent charm and have their own particular flavour. What I like best is a clean, light, modest country vintage of no special name. One can carry plenty of it and it has a good and homely flavour of the land, and of the earth and sky and woods”. (Steppenwolf)
Journalists are necessarily trammelled because they have to allow their preferences to be over-ridden in favour of a perceived common denominator - that of “every-consumer”; they may, consequently, recommend wines that they would have no intention of drinking themselves. I can say that I will be scrupulously fair in my wine judgements - in an entirely prejudicial manner!
31/12/2007 - 01/01/2008
1995 Volnay 1er cru Taillepieds, Hubert de Montille
Starting off as I meant to go on I teed off the New Year with a bottle of 1995 Volnay 1er cru Taillepieds from Hubert de Montille which I had been saving for a special occasion. An alluring bonny-bright rose colour segued into a nose which was very pretty, reminiscent of red flowers with a hint of stone-dust. I tasted the wine and the truth thwacked me hard like a firm clout on the mazzard with a stovepipe - this was Pinot au naturel, naked and shivering, all nerve and sinew, unswervingly pure and refreshing to the very marrow. Alcohol? A trifling 12% - its extremely bearable lightness of being serving as an elegant dig in the ribs to all the apologists of chaptalisation and souped-up sweetness. It’s very difficult to graduate from this minimalist groove - in comparison all wines seem overdressed and wield a clunking fist in a clunking glove. Hubert de Montille whose advocacy of “chiselled wines”, those that slice the palate like a blade as opposed to fanning out with broad flavours, would be pleased to learn that his 1995 Volnay is as clean and youthful now as the day it was bottled. New World Pinot - read it and weep - this delicious Volnay puts the ace in grace.
15/01/2008
2007 Framingham Pinot Gris, Marlborough, New Zealand
I remember reading that Pinot Gris was the next big thing in New Zealand and would soon supersede Riesling as the aromatic flavour de nos jours. Well, pardon my Maori, but that assertion is a tankload of cobblers. PG is a notoriously difficult grape to get right; more often than not poor clones are used leading to high yields and big bunches of big berries. Acidity can be a problem: leave the grapes on the vine for too long and acids drop, sugars rise and you’re left with a wine with a massive belt of alcohol and flab for fruit. Harvest under-ripe and you have thin Pinot Grigio characteristics with some residual sugar. Every which way but yuck? The Mission clone, however, provides smaller bunches with smaller berries, the result of which is more pronounced aromatics and greater concentration of fruit flavour. Framingham’s inspiration has been the Alsace style rather than the leaner Pinot Grigio style. The emphasis on richness, weight and texture as well as expressive fruit flavours. The Pinot Gris ‘07 has lifted, fruit forward aromatics reminiscent of apples, pears, raisins and cream with some underlying mineral notes. Generous “apple strudel” flavours of apple, pear, quince, raisins, spicy pastry and custard. Rich, slightly oily palate with excellent weight, texture and mouthfeel culminating in a long, creamy finish.
18/01/2008
2006 Vin de Savoie-Ayze, Gringet “Le Feu”, Domaine Belluard
The vineyards of Domaine Belluard are situated in Ayze in the Haute-Savoie as Dominique Belluard was at pains to point out when we finally arrived at the winery. They rise to about 450m above sea level and from them you can see the spur of the Alps. Some of the vines are planted on the flat grounds near the winery, others terraced on the steep inclination of the exposed south-facing hills behind - including some on Terre Feu, a red scarred, mineral-rich subsoil composed of glacial sediments and moraines (continuous linear deposits of rock and gravel). The Alpine climate ensures a big temperature difference between day and night, ensuring both physiological maturity in the grapes as well as good acidity.
Dominique Belluard, who enjoys hang-gliding (this would be a novel method of harvesting grapes), has a restless, questing demeanour. Like many vignerons you sense he would rather be walking or puttering off in his tractor than talking. He has long grimy tapering fingers and constantly makes roll-ups one-handed - without looking. Occasionally, only occasionally, a half-smile will crack his features.
We learn about the Gringet grape, that previously it was thought to be Savagnin, the famous grape of Jura, but ampelographical testing suggests that it is, in fact, an older variety. Now the grape has virtually disappeared from Savoie with only Belluard holding any significant quantities: a mere 8ha. Most Gringet goes into the production of sparkling wines which are a local speciality and likely to remain so.
Dominique is a serious proponent of biodynamic viticulture. He speaks all of the time of “balance” with regard to the vine and its environment, the relationship of the plant and the cosmos and that the preparations given to the plant are to enable it to find this balance. When he mentioned the alignment of the planets and telluric forces a few eyes rolled, but I suppose that if you don’t work the land you’re not in tune with the rhythms of nature and all such talk must seem like arrant poppycock. The notion of achieving balance derives from holistic aspect of biodynamics that sets out the idea that all life is trying to achieve internal harmony and that we can create the preconditions for this state by observing and understanding how the natural world (or the world of natural forces and energies) works.
In his not hugely prepossessing paint-flaking winery which seems to be held together by masking tape Dominique expounds on his dislike of oak ("it deadens the flavour") whilst pouring us some Gringet from the tank. He’s not a fan of stainless steel either, believing that it doesn’t allow the wine to breathe properly. As a result he has installed oval cement betons. All the wines we tasted were fantastically pure, especially the mineral Gringet from the Terre de Feu terroir. No malolactic fermentation here - the fruit is beacon-bright, crystalline and the acidity sings. The wine conveys initial aromas of white flowers and jasmine, is citrus-edged with a hint of white peach, jasmine and violet and a twist of aniseed to finish. The latest Gringet cuvees from the egg-shaped tanks were more emollient and slight more textural as if the lees contact had smoothed some of the stony aggression.
This was the first time I had tasted the wine in bottle and the result was little short of magnificent. Le Feu has warmth suggested by its name; you taste how the lees nourish and enrich the wine, imbuing it with a luscious, almost cushioned texture of fruit. The wine exudes white pear and quince seasoned with hint of warm ginger and angelica. We drank it harmoniously with wild pheasant pot-roasted in Marsala with a sauce of ceps, apples and cream.
18/01/2008
2004 & 2005 Montlouis-sur-Loire, Stephane Cossais
In my numble op Chenin is up there with Riesling and Chardonnay as one of three truly noble white grapes. Whilst I’m not sure that the French really understand Riesling (even in Alsace) they appear to recognise the versatility of Chenin which makes everything from sparkling wines, to bone-dry examples and through the register of sweetness to the most marvellous nectars. The classic Chenin descriptor is apples (or quince), nuts and honey; the great dry examples have mouth-puckering acidity and apple-skin-on-flint verve and carve through trout and salmon like a cold stiletto through hot butter.
We have several fine examples of Chenin on our list: the gorgeous, honeyed wines of Antoine Foucault which are raised in oak; Thierry Germain’s poised Saumur Insolite almost quivering with minerality; the mellow (tendre) Vouvrays of Domaine Champalou; the mulching, cider-house aromas of Laroche’s Savennieres. Stephane Cossais distinctive Montlouis nods most towards the Insolite in style. We began with the 2004 where almond and chalk inflections led into fleeting notes of dry honey. I liked the grippy acidity and the linear progress of the wine on the palate. Less incisive but more flattering was the ‘05 with ripe pear and bruised quince to the fore and a degree more alcohol. Chenin in the Loire exemplifies vintage variation more than any other grape I can think of and one of the effects of global warming has seen a move away from the more tongue-witheringly dry exemplars towards a richer, more accommodating style. And whilst Chenin can carry richness of fruit and certain weight of alcohol some of the subtlety is lost. As Julius Caesar didn’t say: Let me have lean and hungry wines about me.
18/01/2008 - 19/01/2008
2006 & 1976 Bourgueil, Domaine des Chesnaies, Lame-Delisle Boucard
Cabernet Franc is currently enjoying quite a renaissance not that it ever had much of a naissance. Wines made from this grape tend to have tasty refreshing acidity, even those medicinal green notes (bell pepper, mint) in unripe vintages (which can be quite moreish) morph into attractive aromas of currants, raspberries and violets into warmer years, and further attractions are light-to-moderate alcohol and restrained use of wood. Its moderation means that it is superb food all-rounder; seasoning poultry, light meats and river fish such as salmon and trout with an even hand.
From the elegant floral style of Chinon, to the cool gravelly savouriness of Saint Nicolas de Bourgueil, from the bolder, beefier wines of Bourgueil to the suave, silken personality of Saumur-Champigny - and from simple, fruit-packed bang-in-a-bucket-juicers-on-a-summer’s-day to structured reds that can age remarkably well, Cabernet Franc wears many and varied guises.
The wines of Domaine des Chesnaies are aged in large oak foudres, and in a top vintage may spend three to five years in cask before bottling. The Prestige cuvee is a selection of their finest vineyards, selected for long ageing potential, whilst the young Cuvee des Chesnaies has delicious youthful Cabernet Franc fruit. This estate is renowned for sitting on library stock and it was instructive to taste together the old and the new. The 2006 was plump and chunky with a nose of wild raspberries, earth and mint. The palate was uncomplicated and fruit-driven with pleasant bitter berry fruit. Cracking value at around £5.99. The 1976 was initially closed: we poured it into a decanter and watched it unfold. Dark, brooding colour, bruised black plum and warm earth aromas veering towards savoury, humus and mushroom, bold dark musky fruit on the palate with plenty of supporting tannin and acidity. A remarkable wine. I left a slug of it in the decanter overnight and tried it the next day and despite having been bombarded by oxygen for twenty four hours it had barely budged an inch.
The baby Bourg would happily assimilate charcuterie, rabbit and partridge, whilst the reserve cuvee is a natural captain of the beaky brigade: try duck with green peppercorn, mallard (real rather than imaginaire), roast pheasant and pigeon. It also has the chops for chops (lamb or pork). Either would wash down a slab of Pont l’Eveque.
A Ruddy Chianti and An Animal Cot
25/01/2008
Chianti PFR, Radda in Chianti 2005
Or Chianti Public Finance Requirement as we call it. I used to labour under the misapprehension that this wine was called Chianti PDF - easy to send samples, just zip, e-mail and download the wine pressing the tab key. But I digress.
Come with me on a whimsical journey to Chianti-shire - even the Italians refer to it now by its jocular Brit moniker. Imagine you are sitting in a bar in a teeming Tuscan piazza or sprawling at your favourite table in your favourite alfresco hillside trat overlooking olive groves and cypress trees tinged purple by the setting sun. In front of you, on the chequered tablecloth, is a half-empty bottle of the casa vino rosso, Chianti from some unnamed local grower. You gaze rapturously at the pale crimson liquid winking at you from the glass and smell the spicy perfumes of the warm south cascading from your simple beaker and then you taste the burst of sweet cherries and raspberries backed up by refreshing astringency. The world seems good, pickled in lazy pleasure, and you yearn for this perfect moment, the miniature wine epiphany, to be captured and preserved in glorious techniflavour in an imprint on each and every one of your millions of taste buds. Back home, where the buffalo don’t roam and make superlative mozzarella, you head to your local wine shop to sate your urgent Tuscan thirst provoked by the glowing embers of holiday memories: you can still savour in your mind’s palate that fragrant waft of herbs, the pepper, dust and cherries, the draft of vintage that hath been cool’d a long age in the deep-delved earth and all that Keatsian thang. What was that wine, that Chianti you discovered? Your hand hovers over the ranks of Classicos. £11.99? Really? Surely not! So you plump for the cheerfully simple bottle, pull the cork expectantly and discover that cheap Chianti in this country is an abomination, a fiasco, to coin a phrase, a wine so thin and coarse that it tastes as if all the fruit had been stripped away leaving only the unvarnished, still-squeaking pip-juice.
For years at Les Caves we had a Chianti normale on our list and the vintage stayed stubbornly 1999 over half a decade (maybe the winery had printed a huge batch of labels) but the wine, which had been quite fun in its youth, was visibly crumbling and developed in its dotage the appetising flavour of what I imagine as old brick slow-cooked in gravy browning. So we sought, and we sought, until we found - a jovial, unpretentious Chianti, a simple country wine of russet noes and honest kersey yeas.
The PFR is appropriately pale for a Sangiovese (the blood of Jove, indeed) exhibiting the pure and simple expression of the variety - sans Cab, Merlot & Syrah those bodybuilding grapes that lend, dare one day, a hollow richness to so many modern Tuscan blends. It has a clean groove, its delightful freshness etches flavours of red apple, sour cherries and raspberry leaf and, with an abv loitering in the cool 12.5% region, glassfuls can disappear down the gullet with alacrity.
Not that you care but I digested this fruitsome soother, lightly chilled, with a chicken liver pasta ragu, although I think it would be a more than fair partner for a mustard-slathered bavette steak sarnie.
26/01/2008
2005 Touraine “KO In Cot We Trust”
Hold the horse manure, ordure in court. Or even in cot for that matter. Puzelat’s reds are a journey into a mulching tangle of undergrowth. You won’t find any babies in Thierry’s Cot (I trow) but you may discover a veritable wilderness of yeasty madness for this is Malbec sauvage, sans filtration and sans sulphur.
Bacon fat, marmite and leather, smoked meat - this wine wears its guts for garters. Puzelat has, not unnaturally, been described as the “Pope of unsulphured wine”. Well, we’re glad he believes in the living Cot. Benedictus benedicat!
In Cot We Trust hails from the same whiffy stable of wine as Olivier Cousin’s Grolleau. When you taste it the metaphorical impression you receive is that the wine has escaped its surly bonds and is drunkenly staggering around the place happy to pick a fight with every wine you’ve tasted and every expectation that you hold. Most of the Malbec I’ve come to grips with, even the beefier specimens, have a ramrod up their backside; this version is soft, sweet and smoky with that smell of just-finished fermentation. It seems raw, unfinished, lacking in structure and yet at the same time is very moreish. Its strength is that it tastes so real; that may also be its weakness.
The only way of serving this wine is to put it in the fridge for an hour which helps to tone down some of the funkier elements. I loved the wine, but then I usually like wines that flirt with danger, are utterly natural and disregard the usual flavour conventions!
Blood and guts mingles with guts and blood - pitch this Cot at a civet of venison or hare or a game pie or some lamb’s sweetbreads. And stand well back…
Whiffling Burghounds
From the dawn of Les Caves de Pyrene time we have always been pigeon-holed as the South West specialist: mad about Madiran, crazy about Cahors, frantic about Fronton, passionate about Pacherenc, jaunty about Jurancon and bonqueurs about Buzet and Bergerac. Meanwhile, in the real world, people sold wine. Our love of France, however, was much much more than a mere gavage of Gascon idiosyncrasy, and all regions were eventually amply represented in our portfolio except for Burgundy whose elusive wares were inevitably the province of other merchants.
Now the Burghounds can, if not howl, certainly bark more appreciatively at us, because we have assembled a reckonable range of growers. 
We begin with the wines of Patrick Miolane, a vigneron based in Saint-Aubin. His village Puligny comes from a parcel of vines planted in the early 1960s on alluvial soils. The harvest is manual with the grapes transported in small cases to the winery and sorted further on the table de tri. After pressing the juice is chilled down for debourbage and undergoes an alcoholic followed by malolactic fermentation. Batonnage is practiced in order to give more aromatic richness to the wine. Half of the wine is raised in tank and half in futs de chene of which 20% of new Burgundy barrels. Yellow straw in colour with a nose of hawthorn and holly, candied apples and pears. On the palate it is round, generous, ample, and delicate in texture that lingers on the palate for a long finish. The acidity is just amazing here. Several years in bottle will reward patience as you can sense the shimmering nervosity of the wine “C’est un vin gourmand qui revele des aujourd’hui une facilite gustative.” Get your gustatory kicks as you sup this wine with a fillet of sea bass - which the estate recommends you cook with andouille de Gemene, a dish assuredly aimed at the chitterling classes. Ebaupin is a small parcel of thirty-five year old Pinot Noir vines situated just above the village of Saint-Aubin on limestone-clay soils. After the manual harvest and selection the grapes are destemmed and put into a tank cooled down to 8 degrees centigrade. The fermentation begins slowly and naturally and pigeage and remontage take place during the twenty one day cuvaison after which the wine is transferred to futs de chene for twenty- four months. This red has the ruby clarity characteristic of Saint-Aubin and the well-delineated nose reveals a complex palette of fruit aromas such as redcurrants and cherries, whilst the wood notes lend a depth and sensuality. The wine lingers gently in the mouth, the softness of the fruitness given grip and definition by the refined and delicate tannins. This charming Pinot would gladly doff its fez at a pot-roast pheasant. Les Perrieres is a parcel of south-east facing vines situated just behind the domaine. The micro-climate contributes to the amazing character of the wine. This Saint-Aubin is dark red, fluid, almost twinkling. The nose is seductive, marked by liquorice and cassis and with a certain animal character that contributes an extra dimension. Elegant and lifted the palate is completed by the signature Perrieres minerality which raises this wine to a level where it might be confused with some of the finer Burgundies of the region. This finesse steers our putative food match towards fish such as sandre - la peau croustillante sur une fondue d’echalote et sauce au vin rouge. If that’s a bit too complicated to rustle up in ye olde microwave try it with salmon and a beurre blanc reduction.
Hubert Lamy is considered by most to be the benchmark producer in St. Aubin. Nestled in the hills between Chassagne and Puligny Montrachet, Saint-Aubin - one of Burgundy’s best kept secrets - often produces wines that rival those of its illustrious neighbours and its wines represent exceptional value. Having said that, Lamy’s wines command the same price as those from Meursault and Puligny.
Olivier Lamy, Hubert’s son, took over the winemaking in 1992 and ever since the winery has gone from strength to strength.
The vineyards are situated on limestone-clay with a south or south-east aspect. Debudding occurs in May to limit the number of grapes on the vine and a green harvest in August ensures that only the best quality grapes will remain to be harvested. The Lamys practise lutte raisonnee. This entails using anti-parasitical treatments that respect the existing fauna and flora - and then only in exceptional circumstances. Organic composting takes place to engender healthy soils. Perfectionism rules as yields are kept low and a recent innovation has been the introduction of selection tables in the cuverie to ensure that only the healthiest and ripest grapes are used. Lamy has begun experimenting with 600-litre tonneaux in the winery, rather than all 225-litre barriques. He feels this protects the purity of the fruit without over-oaking. Today, the majority of his production is raised in these larger casks. Vinification is traditional and the wines are matured in oak casks (20-30% new) for 12 months before minimal filtration and then bottling. Lamy seeks to make stylish wines that are refined and racy, and underscore St. Aubin’s mineral character. La Princee is bready on the nose with clean, crisp, peach-kernel and lime-fruited aromas emerging. Lovely freshness and cleanness on the palate. En Remilly is a svelte and elegant white wine, with silky minerality. Ripe fruit and stone layer in a millefeuille on the mid-palate. It is both intense and delicate with a terrific finish. The Saint-Aubin Rouge Derriere Chez Edouard is a mouthful and a mouthful. Limpid colour, nose of cinnamon, musk and cherry and mingled flavours of strawberry, mocha and earth. Plenty of life left in this wine!
Situated in the very heart of Saint-Aubin Domaine Larue also produces a particularly fine example of Puligny. The Garenne vineyard is a mere 0.6 hectare in size. The viticulture is exacting: lutte raisonnee, working the soil, green harvest, manual harvest. Fermentation is in barrique, a third of which are new and there is a further elevage on the lees with regular batonnage. The wine displays classic honey, butter and citrus overlaid with hazelnut and pain grille and the striking palate offers equilibrium between minerality and sweetness. Try this, if you will, with medallions of monkfish in a saffron sauce or fricassee de volaille aux morilles.
The Saint-Aubin 1er cru Vieilles Vignes is a reserved character with a nervy citrus acidity that dances around the butter, nuts, yeast and toasted almond character of the wine. The wine uncoils with some time in the carafe to reveal some nice honey and fig aromas. I’m thinking smoked trout, you’re thinking turbot.
More next time on Chassagne-Montrachet from Coffinet-Duvernay, a solid Puligny from Domaine Bzikot, Philippe Pacalet’s low sulphur red Burgundies and a superb range of new wines from Fred Cossard’s Domaine de Chassorney.
Tasting “Inside Out”
Wine tastings are virtually always structured to fit one of two models. The first involves “nailing the wine” by focusing on the liquid in the glass, and through rigorous observation and examination, arriving at an objective assessment of the wine. This empirical technique is designed to describe wine purely in terms of the properties perceived by the senses. The advantage of such an approach is that the taster is not swayed by preconceptions. The disadvantage is that one tastes without context.
Alternatively, you can establish a context and set the scene for the wine tasting by discussing, for example, the individual regions in which the wines are produced and outlining all the microclimatic, cultural and vinicultural factors that give rise to the styles of the respective wines.
The inverse of these traditional compressed approaches is a more freewheeling style. Here the wine is a catalyst for wide-ranging discussion rather than an end in itself. As we taste we may be swept up in the moment: questions are asked, digressions occur, anecdotes are spun, ideas emerge, comparisons are woven. The truth of the wine here lives in the experience of the moment and in what the participants of the tasting individually contribute to that experience. It has a serendipitous dynamic wholly unlike the other tasting models.
I prefer the chaotic spontaneity of these happy-go-lucky tastings because the scenery always seems to be changing. It keeps me fresh, because, rather than revisiting old territory and going through the motions, you can constantly bounce ideas off people and generate new momentum.
Here’s an example of an aleatory tasting. I’ve adopted a kind of shorthand notation to mirror the kinetic, stream-of-consciousness approach adopted. It’s a paradigm of digressive narrative; in fact you have to imagine something more tortuous with questions and interventions punctuating the spiel!
Deviating from the Txac…
Txacoli or Chacoli – the Basque spelling versus the Castilian. We have grown to associate this wine with the Basque country and people. Biscay, Viscaya, Basque tongue sounds elemental. The Basques are a proud people with a deep sense of their history. Mark Kurlansky’s The Basque History of the World rewrites history, as we thought we knew it, from the Basque point of view.
The vineyards are located on the northern strip of coast between San Sebastian and Bilbao Hondarrabi Xuri & Beltza, the grapes of the region. Green wines for a green climate (echo of Andrew Marvell’s The Garden). Or even more appropriate…
Verde que te quiero verde,
Verde viento. Verde ramas
Green I love you green. Green wind. Green branches.
Federico García Lorca
The wine is true to the identity of the region, true to the proximity of the sea (salty wine), true to the uncritical mood that you cultivate whilst quaffing it. It is charismatic on its own terms. If Txacoli were an instrument it would be a reedy flute or a penny whistle. Vineyards in Guetaria, the home of the largest Txacoli DO, are cut into the cliffs overlooking the Atlantic. The prismatic effect of sunlight shining through droplets of sea spray generated by the breakers at the base of the cliffs. This is the brine-scented terroir of Txacoli; this is a wine of the sea.
Txacoli appears to be the house (or default) white wine of all bars in the Basque country. The art of pouring or “spuming” Txacoli into beakers from a great height to create the extra effervescence. The drama of wine. Wafting the bottle like a censer; there is something sacramental about the pouring of Txacoli. The rules of pinxtos bars. Smoking in bars in San Sebastian (smoking the hams!) The philosophy of pinxtos eating –imaginative, daring and fun. Could we make it work in this country?
A happy wine demonstrating the virtue of simplicity. Flavours: green apple, crunch of acidity. Light in alcohol. Increasingly popularity reflects movement away from rich full-bodied wines towards more functional, pleasurable, quaffable wines. Look at increased sales of Muscadet, Picpoul de Pinet and similar wines of the sea. Food? Cantabrian anchovies, stuffed green olives, mackerel, sardines, croquettes, grilled chorizo. A frivolous wine, which doesn’t ask questions. The idea that wine does or does not travel; our experience coloured by our mood which is determined by sun, sea and relaxation. The more minimalist the wine the truer it is; the winemaking technique does not get in the way of why the wine exists. Without the picture of the vineyards and the rugged coastline in our minds and without the flavour of the Basque cuisine on our taste buds the wine means less, but we are getting there. As we travel more often to wine-producing region our connection with the wines naturally strengthens; the associations become clearer. When wine tastings can activate these memories and associations, then they help to make the wine to become something more than a product in a glass bottle.
Lo Sang del Pais - My House Red
Marcillac “Lo Sang del Pais”, Domaine du Cros 2006
Philippe Teulier’s Marcillac is my house red. Why do I love this wine? Well, to adapt a simile from Roger Scruton, it punches like Rimbaud and has the sensibility of Rambo. It screams or rather yodels terroir from its very soul. And I am a sucker for its earthy charms.
Rolled round in earth’s diurnal course,
With rocks and stones and trees
(A slumber did my spirit seal – Wordsworth 1800)
When I drink this Marcillac I feel as though the grapes, stones, minerals and garrigue have been poured into a celestial cement mixer and pounded together to create the essence of drinkability and a metaphor which is a shoo-in for pseud’s corner.
To put it on the fuzzy map Marcillac is a tiny region of some eight or so growers located east of Cahors (South West France) on the terraced slopes above the Lot. It is not far from Rodez at the base of the Aubrac plateau, is linked historically to the Abbey of Conques and is the only appellation of the Aveyron departement.
The grape variety of the region is known locally Mansois – otherwise more familiarly as Fer Servadou (or Fer). And in case you are about to scurry to the reference books and go all ampelographical, yes that is the same grape as Braucol and Pinenc. The Mansois has plenty of colour and an earthy, vigorous personality, but more of that anon.
Historically, Marcillac was very much a wine of the vintage, infinitely quaffable, very light in alcohol. Paul Strang records harvest workers demolishing (or being demolished by) fifteen bottles of the local potion after a strenuous day in the fields.
The vineyards of Marcillac are located on very steep hills or terraces with red clay soils (les rougiers) that are rich in ferrous oxide. This iron-rich seam runs throughout the vineyards of the south west – we see it in Fronton and Madiran as well. In terms of flavour it seems to contribute a mineral tang to the wine and bolts the fruit together.
The vineyards of Domaine du Cros are worked to a programme of lutte raisonnée with a green harvest to thin out bunches and discard unripe berries. The harvest is hand-picked and the grapes undergo twenty one day maceration in tank.
This Marcillac never disappoints and makes a strong virtue of simplicity. It has a healthy purple-red colour and reveals soft berry notes, lovely inky fruits with a touch of mineral and refreshing stalkiness. How to describe that elusive minerality? Spring rain on slate, gravel and that dancing rai de fer. The acids are delicious and carry the fruit that spans the entire spectrum from juicy and savoury to balsamic. This particular cuvée is devoid of tannic intent, but its gracefulness and composure indicate a decent structure, albeit a temporary one.
There flow the juices – oh. Gastric juices. Marcillac acts as the super-digestible accompaniment to anything meaty from duck confit, cooked sausage, rillons and cassoulet (natch) to the famous beef from the L’Aubrac. Locally it is consumed with tripe and aligot (mashed potato and cheese) and Aveyron cheeses such as Cantal.
“Lo Sang del Pais” is Occitan dialect meaning “the blood of the country”. Or, as I’m fond of repeating, it’s a wine that enjoys wearing its guts for garters. This wine is a classic representation of the soil, the micro-climate and the grape variety. It is made in the traditional style using tank rather than oak to preserve the intrinsic flavours of the terroir, the place where the vines grow. Minimal mediation, in this case, maximises the purity of flavour. I love the image of the blood of the countryside; these sanguine wines seem to leach their flavours from the soil itself. The medieval citizens of Rodez used to take Marcillac for their health, because it was preferable to drinking the local water. More recently, Pascal Monestier, the son of a pharmacist in Marcillac, in a thesis on the prevention of cholesterol by the consumption of wine discovered especially high concentrations of cathecine and procyanidins – anti-cholesterol agents. Well, as the bible says, “Take a little wine for thy stomach”!
The Quality of Champagne Philipponnat
TASTING OF PHILIPPONNAT WITH VIANNEY GRAVEREAUX AT BEDALES
With so many champagnes it is a case of the emperor’s new bubbles, wherein more money seems to be poured into marketing flim-flam than the quality of product itself. It may sound trite but there is a cultural conservatism which not only allows, but actively conspires with the con tricks that go under the name of brand recognition. And whilst the marques cash in on extra demand by releasing inferior wines, houses like Philipponnat make the extra effort by using premier division fruit and striving to make balanced, tasty wines…
Philipponnat is not a big champagne house. They produce 600,000 bottles - which may sound a lot, but is a fraction of the big brands and well-known marques and even less than exalted luxury cuvees such as Krug.
The history of the family in the region dates back to 1522 when the Philipponnats were local vineyard owners, merchants and wine makers. During the 19th century the family introduced its own house label and moved to Mareuil-sur-Ay, replanted the historic Clos des Goisses vineyard (which is now the oldest single vineyard in Champagne) and reinstated the cellars of the Chateau de Mareuil.
All the wines have a certain style that is very distinctive helped by a relatively low dosage that allows the innate minerality to express itself. You immediately notice the incisive acidity and the penetrating whiff of chalk and lime that seem to act as steely struts to the main body of the wine. Furthermore, malolactic is avoided for all wines that are aged in barrel. Philipponnat’s aim, according to Vianney, is to make a wine that will refresh the palate and provoke you to drink another glass… and another. The problem with so many champagnes is that the high level of dosage leaves a cloying taste in the mouth.
As with other houses in champagne Philipponnat uses the main three grapes in varying degrees, but specialises in Pinot Noir. Pinot Noir gives intensity, strength and structure while Chardonnay confers a floral element, also acidity and elegance and Pinot Meunier provides fruit and mouthfeel.
Philipponnat owns twenty hectares of vines on south-facing slopes most of which are on pure chalk soils, in the areas around Mareuil, Ay, Mutigny and Avenay. Vinification is natural – the aim is to create a style balanced between intensity and freshness. Intensity is a recurrent theme – it refers to the quality provided by the Pinot Noir grapes in the blend – especially those grown on the warm, south-facing slopes of the Montagne de Reims. Freshness comes from the Chardonnay and the vinification of first press juice as well as very moderate dosage which preserves the inherent aromas and mineral character of the grapes.
The back label on each bottle declares the vintage from which the majority of the wine came, the date of disgorgement - and the dosage. Effectively, the wines have two birthdays – the year of vintage and the year of disgorgement. On release the wines taste fresh and vibrant, yet with the added concentration of lees ageing. The Royale Reserve and the Reserve Rosée see the addition of reserve wine which is aged in a “solera system” (almost unique in champagne). The amount of reserve wine varies according to vintage: in normal vintages it varies between 17-21%; in 2003, however, it comprised 50% of the final blend.
A significant proportion of the vintage wines and Clos des Goisses are vinified in small oak barrels to increase complexity to. As mentioned wines fermented in the barrel do not undergo malolactic fermentation in order enhance the perception of freshness.
Royale Réserve
Philipponnat’s baby cuvée comes from first press juice from predominantly premier and grand cru vineyards. The blend is 40-50% Pinot Noir from Philipponnat’s own vineyards in Ay and Mareuil, whilst the Chardonnay (30-35%) and Pinot Meunier (15-25%) come from vineyards near Mareuil-sur-Ay. Traditional vinification in vat; reserve wines are aged in barrel. Moderate dosage (8/9g/l).
Aged on the lees for three years the Royale Réserve is lemony gold in colour with fine, lively bubbles and a nose reminiscent of vine blossom, linden and yeast. After a period in the glass the wine develops citrus fruits and becomes quite vinous with berry fruit flavours and a flinty finish.
Réserve Rosée
Made in a similar fashion to the Royale Reserve, this pink champagne combines intensity, freshness and elegance. It is dry but fruity with red cherry and wild strawberry flavours and candied mandarin orange aromas.
About 50-60% of the blend is Pinot Noir approximately 8% of which is vinified as a red wine. The reserve wines account for 25-40% of the blend and are the product of the solera system of fractional blending.
Grand Blanc 1999
Pure Chardonnay from the Cote des Blancs and mainly Cuis, Cramant, Mesnil-sur-Oger and Vertu (70%), Clos des Goisses vineyard in Mareuil and Trépail on the Montagne de Reims.
This gorgeous wine has a low brut dosage (5-6 g/l) and a minimum of five years on the lees before disgorgement.
Very attractive nose with a nice development. The palate is vinous and suggestive of a creamy texture – buttery and toasty with patisserie nuances, but maintaining an elegant balance between power and finesse and beautiful vibrancy.
This would pair well with shellfish and crustacea – prawns, shellfish, lobster or poached fish with a beurre blanc sauce.
Reserve Millesimée 1999
Made from 70% Pinot Noir mainly from Ay and Mareuil-sur-Ay and 30% Chardonnay from the Cote des Blancs, the Millésimée materialises the specific qualities of the particular vintage. Though vinous and powerful (and eminently foodworthy) it is elegant and fresh at the same time – a remarkable combination.
Malolactic is avoided for the most powerful wines, notably those fermented in barrel. The dosage is on the low side of brut – about 6g/l. The wine matures from five to nine years in the bottle to obtain the greatest degree of complexity and to develop secondary and tertiary aromatics.
Golden-hued wine with delicate effervescence, the nose is initially redolent of honey and beeswax becoming progressively more reminiscent of dried fruit and fig. The palate is full and vinous without being too heavy; the finish is characterised by delicate but persistent smoky and leathery aromas, typical of great Pinot Noir when aged.
Pinot goes with poultry and game birds; I think this would be excellent with salmon and a beurre blanc sauce.
Cuvée 1522 Grand Cru 2000
Philipponnat created 1522 to commemorate the year the family settled in the heart of the champagne country. This wine is a real favourite, enticingly vibrant with delicious subtlety; stylistically it is quite different to the more powerful and more strikingly mineral Clos des Goisses.
It is made from the very best first press juice comprising 60% Pinot Noir and 40% Chardonnay sourced exclusively from the vineyards in Ay, Cramant and Le-Mesnil-sur-Oger. A proportion of the wine (50%) is fermented in barrels. The wine is perfect for low dosage which is why Philipponnat have used an extra brut dosage (4.5g sugar/litre). The wine matures for 5-7 years on the fine second fermentation lees before disgorgement.
Pale gold in colour, almost luminescent with lively, rapid bubbles the 1522 has an enchanting floral nose with notes of hawthorn and acacia blossom and more veiled plum and ripe grape aromas, combined with hints of fresh figs. The palate is supremely fresh and exquisitely clean, yet well-structured, with great balance and reminiscent of ripe white peaches. Fruity and silky it continues providing fig and almond aromas and completes with a striking lemony finish and a flicker of iodine.
Wonderfully refreshing, fragrant, graceful and uplifting wine – a champagne to love,
Clos des Goisses 1999
Wholly owned by Philipponnat Clos des Goisses is a unique walled vineyard covering 5.5 hectares on a due south-facing 30-45% slope, situated on a canal in Mareuil-sur-Ay. The soils are relatively shallow and the subsoil is pure chalk. The average age of the vines is maintained here is maintained above 25 years old.
Clos des Goisses is a blend of 60% Pinot Noir and 40% Chardonnay roughly half of which is fermented in oak barrels. Malolactic is systematically avoided to allow natural acidity to offset this terroir’s immensely powerful personality. Once again very low dosage (4 to 5 g/l) is used to allow the sheer vinosity of the vineyard to be expressed.
Time for an expansive tasting note. Clos des Goisses has a rich golden colour with a delicate mousse. The initial appealing aromas are of baked bread . With some air you begin to detect some honey and red fruits and later tertiary aromas of spiced wood, incense, smoke, honey and roasted coffee. The palate is remarkably intense (that word again) and very mineral with great length and breadth.
The Clos des Goisses wines have great structure and thus the capacity to age. Vianney tells us to advise sommeliers to decant the wine to bring out the full aromatic potential. This is a wine and then some and not just a bubbly flibbertigibbet.
Important Wine Knowledge
Did You Know…
That Australians enjoy the taste of oak so much that they prefer to drink their wine from wooden tankards?
That the French ceremonially entomb someone call Brett in their cellars during the period that the wine ferments?
That all Pinot Grigio can be traced back to its original source?
That Swiss wines tend to be neutral?
That top vineyards in the Beaune employ highly trained Burghounds to sniff out the best grapes to harvest?
That Cliff Richard’s wine Vida Loca tastes older than it is?
That the Napa Valley is now so important that it has to dress up in the evening before meeting other wine producing areas?
That South African wines are never knowingly oversold?
That gooseberry bushes grow everywhere in Marlborough, New Zealand?
That all wine surveys reveal ineluctable truths about human nature?
That only the very best wines are allowed to win awards in the international wine competitions?
That the text on of all wine back labels is all written by the same salad-munching, white & some red meat (with fish)-eating teetotaller?
That when the magnetic poles reverse themselves that Australian wines will become so sophisticated that only French people will drink them?
That the Chancellor exacts duty on wine purely to penalise those uncontrollable youths who flock into city centres to quaff Sancerres and Nuits Saint Georges with their smoked salmon and quails egg canapes?
Hannah’s blog - Adjusting to Life in Asti
Whine, Whine, Whine
Friday 1st February
I’ve come to the realization, after we went to yet another Michelin-starred restaurant 2 days ago (I’m not complaining!), that Christian seems to be on a mission to visit every Michelin-starred restaurant in our region and he’ll probably cover the whole of Italy one day very soon! I seriously need to consider selling some of my stuff on ebay now to help fund his new “hobby” and Christian “Italian Wine Expert” Bucci doesn’t go for the cheapest wine on the list!
Tuesday 5th February
Finally we decide to go to the local anagrafe (sort of like a city hall) to be able to register with a doctor, something that Mr Bucci has been putting off for weeks because he wants to do all the fun things first! Where did everybody go?! Is there to be an air-raid for which we didn’t hear the deafeningly-loud siren? We get there and it had just closed for lunch… Grrr! You can’t do anything in this town between 12pm and 3pm because all the shops close for lunch and even the local government buildings close, such as the anagrafe. Does that mean that the national government stops running this country for 3 hours every day? I’d be interested in looking at the national statistics for crime rate and I’d like to bet that it’s at its lowest during those 3 hours of the day…
Christian shrugs his shoulders – never mind, we’ll go to the anagrafe next week (he’s been saying that for the last few weeks…). Problem is that on our days off he won’t get out of bed before 11am, which is why I suppose we never get the boring things done! We’re off to do the fun part again – a trip to Eataly in Turin, something he’s been itching to go to all week. It’s a huge supermarket that only sells top of the range produce, which is mostly Italian but we found some great French and Spanish produce also. Ouch, our pockets hurt! It also has several restaurants inside – one dedicated to fish, one to meat, another to vegetables, etc so needless to say that we had trouble choosing which one to have lunch at!
After all the walking around at Eataly, Christian’s ankle started to give him grief so he asked me to drive home. Well, I won’t be driving in Italy ever again! On the motorway, we came up to a toll barrier and I didn’t know which lane to choose because Christian had his phone glued to his ear as always when I’m driving! I almost killed us in a collision with a lorry because I hadn’t noticed the lorry that I cut in front of that honked and flashed its lights furiously at me. We braced ourselves for the crash then… nothing. We sat there wondering if we were still alive then breathed a huge sigh of relief. After my heart returned (more or less) to its normal rate, we continued on our journey home. We overtook the same lorry that I cut in front of and I noticed that it was Belgian. I told Christian that if it had been an Italian lorry, we certainly would’ve been hit because Belgians tend to be slower drivers (in my opinion).
Our near-death experiences on the road didn’t end there! About 10 mins later I had to abandon over-taking another vehicle as an a**hole (or stronzo as they say in Italian) roared up behind me at lightning speed wanting to overtake. As I went to pull in behind the car that I was in the process of over-taking, the stronzo whipped in beside me in an attempt to overtake on the outside thus almost causing a crash! What’s happening?! I didn’t have these problems while driving in France! I think the truth of the matter is that I’m nervous about driving in this country because Italian drivers just scare the s**t out of me!
Friday 15th February
Aaaaaargh! I found 5 white hairs on my head!!!!!!!!!
I’ve just realized that I feel like Bridget Jones writing this diary except that I’m not whining about how many calories and fags I’ve consumed or moaning about my crap love life, I’m only complaining about Italy.
If I were to write a diary Bridget Jones-style then it would probably go something like this:
This week
Number of near-death experiences on the road: 9
Obscene amount spent at restaurants: € 1531,50
Number of white hairs found on my head: 17
You get the picture.
Tuesday 19th February
We’re in Genova. We ate at a Michelin-starred restaurant (but of course, darling!) where I had raw prawns (yes I do mean not cooked at all!) for the first time in my life. One of the dishes I chose because I thought would be interesting to try: scampi with a foie gras* sauce. Never again! Keep the freshest seafood of quality away from “art”! For dessert I had a panna cotta (a dessert that’s made with cream flavoured with vanilla pods and an addition of a little gelatine) which certainly, had I thrown it at a window would have stuck to the window and rolled down just like these Spider-Man sort of figures that I remember from the 1980s that you used to throw at the top half of a window and they would cart-wheel down on their sticky hands and feet.
*How to pronounce foie gras: imagine that you’ve just seen a gorgeous man/girl and you say “phwoar” then say “grass” without the two s on the end and now say the whole thing: phwoar-gra J
Wednesday 20th February
We went to a wine-tasting of biodynamic wines at the offices (they turned out to be in a beautiful villa!) of one of our wine suppliers. Also in attendance were other chefs and sommeliers (people in charge of the wine list in restaurants) from other Michelin-starred restaurants across the country, so very VIP I must say. We started the tasting at 1pm and didn’t finish until midnight after our evening meal at a restaurant and they didn’t allow us to spit. One of the sommeliers complained that he had never done a tasting without a spittoon (a container for people to spit the wine out into when doing tastings) and our host quite simply said “try it for once!” - the poor guy looked speechless! By the end of the night we were all quite pie-eyed, strangely enough…
During one of our breaks at the tasting, the big boss of the wine agency, who I would guess is in his 50s, told me how happy and in love he is and that he is soon to be married. Then I find out that he is to be married a fourth time to someone born in the 1980s and he said that for the first time in his life he feels old… No comment!
The restaurant was a simple place but with the most exquisite food cooked and served by an oaf of a man with teeth missing. Helping on the floor was also his not-so-attractive wife but both very nice people. They served fish and seafood dishes at very small prices using only the freshest produce. I understand now that in Italy you don’t need to go to a Michelin-starred restaurant for outstanding food of quality and freshness, you can find little gems in the back streets that survive due to broadcasting by word of mouth. They bring out the best in the fresh produce, they don’t smother it with phwoar-gra! However, I don’t find it so in the UK. In my experience , the back street “gems” are best left undiscovered…
Thursday 21st February
We made it back from Genova in the nick of time for work at 9am (nearly 2 hour drive), nursing headaches and feeling ratty from the lack of sleep of the night before…
I’ve noticed that married Italian women wear their engagement ring on their right hand and their wedding band on their left whereas the British sport them both on the left hand. So no worries mum for the unusually-shaped engagement ring that I like (if and when I ever get it!) and getting a wedding ring specially-made to fit around it – I’ll just go Italian-style!
Tuesday 26th February
Finally, the owner of the little restaurant down the road from us has come out of winter hibernation! He and his elderly mother cook wonderful home-cooked food. In the wine world they talk about the “terroir” of a wine and if you could say the same for restaurants then I would describe this restaurant as “terroir” also.
The owner who is really sweet and built like an ox likes to kneel next to me, put his hand on his heart and start reciting a “home-made” poem, something about me being the most beautiful woman of Madonna di Como (the village we live in)… Pur-lease!!!!!! Judging by the many photos of him pinned up posing in his restaurant with various female customers I’m sure that he has recited the same thing to all of them! I don’t feel so special now!
Friday 29th February
Leap Year!
No! I haven’t asked Christian to marry me
Tasty Tasting Notes - Courtesy of Eric Edwards
It is very rewarding when a wine merchant receives detailed feedback from tastings especially when those wines are considered “in the round”,
that is to say tasted in their own right and with (appropriate) food.
The following wines were sampled by Eric Edwards and Marc Kennard at Marc’s excellent deli in Lamb’s Conduit Street in London (see link http://www.kennardsgoodfoods.com).
Eric’s tasting notes are quoted verbatim; they are deliciously vivid with a real kinaesthetic flow; a blend of taut observation, poetic whimsy (in the best sense) and sensitivity.
He both looks for the wine, but also lets it come to him, which is the best way to evoke a balanced response…
Bodegas Ameztoi, 2007 Txakolina Getariako Ameztoi, Txakoli di Getaria
Had with: Really good green olives
Appearance: A bright pale gold with lovely green highlights in the glass.
Nose: Zesty notes of peeled citrus fruit, especially lime, tart green
apples, and hints of dried white flowers thrown into the crashing sea.
Palate: Zing, zow, wow! It might be the power of imagination, but I
swear I can taste the many dead sea creatures whose calcareous remains
have accumulated over the long slow march of geological time in the
cliff sides where the grapes have been grown. Chalk, a hint of brine,
and a lovely burst of fresh squeezed lime juice, all with held
together with a spritz of (very) bracing acidity.
Match: I can’t say much about the cheeses, but it certainly goes down
splendidly with green olives!
Marega, 2004 Tocai Friulano “Aurora,” Collio
Had with: A summer and winter Cheddar from Keens and an Isle of Mull
When we tried the big brother to this wine, the Malvasia Istriana, I
was entranced by surely one of the best white Italian wines I’ve had
the pleasure to taste in the last year. I’m happy to say that the
more subdued Aurora is a worthy companion.
Appearance: Deeper gold with dense buttery highlights, and with only
the faintest touches of green around the rim.
Nose: Notes of dried grass and dusty hay, mixed with honey, nuts, and
a touch of flowering herbs.
Palate: Really rounded, soft, slightly sweet, but with plenty of
clean, lifted acidity. Nice flavours of toasted nuts and honey which
grow more pronounced with time in the glass.
Match: Definitely a winner with the cheese, especially the slightly
creamier, softer Isle of Mull. Has the weight and rounded intensity
to pair nicely with a range of soft to medium firm cheeses, a good
all-rounder white.
Di Majo Norante, 2006 Sangiovese, Molise
Had with: A summer and winter Cheddar from Keens and an Isle of Mull
So far I’ve been really impressed with both the wines from this
producer and the value for money that they keenly represent.
Appearance: Deep garnet with youthful ruby highlights, good
concentration of colour but with typical Sangiovese hues and not a
smidge of darkening purple Merlot in sight.
Nose: Really expressive with lovely red fruits, loads of herbs, and a
long lasting touch of faint tobacco leaf and mint on the end.
Palate: I love this wine! Can you tell? I’ve had plenty of
disappointing Chianti at two, even three times this price and they
were not the lovely wine that this simple charmer is, full of fresh
red and black berries, more herbs, great acidity, and superb
drinkability. Roll up with your fresh pasta, sun-ripened tomatoes,
anchovies and dark bruised purple olives, and I’ll break out a bottle
or two of this and no one will go home without a smile on their face.
Match: Unsurprisingly, this runs definitely a far distant second to
the white. With the winter cheddar from Keens, this lively little red
comes away with only a slight limp (and tougher tannins) but with the
deeper, creamier attack of the Isle of Mull, the wine simply falls
down at the starting line, tumbling over the sudden rise in
astringency and suffering a loss of confidence along with most of its
fruit.
Colle Stefano, 2006 Verdicchio di Matelica, Marche
Had with: Three Brie de Meaux at three degrees of ripeness
Appearance: Bright pale gold in the glass with noticeable green
hints, very fresh looking.
Nose: Lots of floral notes with light citrus aromas and some dried
herbs in the background.
Palate: Some very nice lime flavours, quite a bit of fruit actually,
with a middle palate that is nutty despite the intense, fresh acidity,
and a very true to varietal finish of faint bitter almonds. A lean,
poised, fresh little wine with lots of potential for pairing with
seafood.
Match: Despite being perhaps the least weighty wine of the trio, it
holds it own against the Brie, but only barely and with the mildest of
the three intensities of cheese. Really this is a wine that would be
more at home with milder, drier cheeses than the ripeness of a mature
Brie. This is also the wine of those we tried with the Brie with
lowest alcohol at 12.7% abv, giving it the least body among these
three dry wines.
Domaine du Corps de Garde, 2006 Saint Bris, Bourgogne - Sauvignon Blanc
Had with: Three Brie de Meaux at three degrees of ripeness
Appearance: A pale yellow shot with touches of red-gold, lacking so
much as a hint of green.
Nose: Muted aromas of peaches and other stone fruit but with delicate
hints of hay, subtle citrus, and not a gooseberry anywhere in sight.
Palate: Bracing palate of clean, almost chalky citrus fruit, with a
warm middle and an intense burst of pleasant astringency and strong
acidity on the finish. A very distinctive and pleasurable wine.
Match: More intensity on the palate of this equally dry wine,
especially on the long finish, brings the wine much closer to an equal
match. Against the three examples of Brie, the original, more mild
sample proves the best choice. Alcohol is at 13% abv, giving the wine
despite its high acidity, a bit of weight and warmth, but well
balanced.
Domaine le Roc Des Anges, 2006 Les Vieilles Vignes Blanc, Roussillon
Had with: Three Brie de Meaux at three degrees of ripeness
Appearance: Not the colour one expects from a white from the warm
environs of the Languedoc Roussillon region: This is pale gold but
with a tinge of almost orange or light brown hanging in the
background.
Nose: Again surprisingly restrained on the nose, delicate even, with
subtle aromas of nuts and white flowers
Palate: Elegant sweet fruit held together with layers of toast,
honey, and spices galore. All of this is washed over clean river rock
with a finish that is remarkably mineral. A special wine which I
would expect to only improve with a bit more bottle age, for those
with the patience to wait.
Match: By the far the best match to this warm, rich, gooey cheese.
Even with the most mature example, the wine holds it own and in fact
shines, matching notes of spice and honey and with a round, warm
mouthfeel, no doubt enhanced by its balanced 14+% alcohol.
Domaine Guy Allion, 2006 Sauvignon De Touraine, Loire
Had with: Can Pujol (a soft, creamy Spanish goats cheese)
Appearance: A lovely limpid green-gold, it looks like Sauvignon Blanc
should.
Nose: Zesty intense fruit abounds on the nose, verging towards the
tropical, while a touch of elderflower cordial lurks in the
background.
Palate: Ripe gooseberries and more fruit than a wine at this price
from the Loire has any right to, there is nonetheless, good clean
balancing acidity to remind you that you’re still in France.
Match: Great with the cheese, a fine foil to the rich and creamy
texture with more than enough aromatic pep to pair with an even more
pungent example. I can really imagine knocking this back in a summer
garden with a nice salad of goat’s cheese and wild greens or simply
with some Crottin de Chavignol spread on fresh, crusty bread.
Domaine Henry Pellé, 2006 Menetou-Salon Blanc Morogues, Loire
Had with: Can Pujol (a soft, creamy Spanish goats cheese)
Appearance: Clear and lively with a touch of yellow-gold.
Nose: Elegant nose of dried grass, a hint of citrus, and a touch of
herbs in the background.
Palate: Racy, invigorating, pure Sauvignon Blanc, with flavours of
grapefruit, green berries, and chalky soil. Distinctly Loire and not
to be confused with the fleshier examples from New Zealand.
Match: Effortlessly vaults over the creamy cheese and respectfully
asks for more, please, if you rather don’t mind. Another great quasi
regional pairing proves itself again.
Domaine Bruno Lupin, 2006 Roussette de Savoie Cru “Frangy,” Savoie
Had with: Comte
Appearance: Almost a touch of bronze, giving the wine an interesting
colour in the glass of faintest onion skin.
Nose: A lovely nose with hints of pears, tart apples, honey, and
almost cider like notes at first and then ripening the longer it is
exposed to the air.
Palate: Perfectly off-dry with traces of gingerbread, nougat, and
honey, deliciously exotic while very pure and clean at the same time.
A really delicious and exceptional wine.
Match: No surprise that this goes wonderfully with the cheese, each
bringing out the rich complex and nutty flavours of the other.
Cornish Point Vineyard, 2006 Cornish Point Vin Gris, Central Otago
Had with: Colston Bassett Stilton
Appearance: A faint whisper of pinkish gold to the wine, but lighter
than the lightest of rosés.
Nose: A lot going on here, big, yeasty, bready, and toasty, much like
what I’d expect from a Pinot dominated Champagne or sparkling wine.
Behind it are notes of red fruit and caramel.
Palate: Very rich but with loads of acidity and some residual warmth
from the (fairly) high alcohol. This is an intense and full-bodied
wine, rich and full of slightly sweet citrus fruit and more of those
tart red berries to balance it out. Bite on the finish to keep it
long and fresh.
Match: Not a great match, and definitely nothing on the Monbazillac
we would suggest to be paired to this phenomenal cheese. This is a
big, broad, texturally rich wine with quite a bit of weight and plenty
of fruit and acidity, and yet it is overcome by the strength,
saltiness, and sheer richness of the cheese..
Domaine Montirius, 2003 Vacqueyras “Clos Montirius,” Rhone
Had with: 3 year old Parmesan
Appearance: Deep garnet with flashes of dark brick and cherry wood.
Nose: Delightful, classic southern Rhone nose, with lots of black
fruit, bruised plums, leather, meat, and long lingering savoury notes.
Palate: A warm, generous wine, with dusky, dusty tannins, more of
that deep black fruit, stewed olives, and concentrated flavours.
Really develops over time in the glass.
Match: Has more than enough concentration for this dry aged Parmesan,
but there is a slight increase in tannic astringency that even this
very dense and darkly fruited wine cannot , it seems, avoid. A nice
bit of beef or lamb I think, or a hearty bean stew, would be slightly
better than any cheese.
Bodegas Sanchez Romate, Amontillado NPU, Jerez
Had with: 3 year old Parmesan
NPU stands for Non Plus Ultra, or “nothing further beyond.” Whether
or not it once graced the Pillars of Hercules is a moot point, as in
this case it means “nothing better” which is a sentiment I can agree
with whole heartedly. An Amontillado worthy of the risk of nitre and
immurement, indeed.
Appearance: Polished gold, with amber and wood.
Nose: Rich and complex. Notes of orange wood, wax, hazelnuts,
caramel, nutmeg, polish, and alcohol.
Palate: Deep and buttery with savoury notes around a core of candied
citrus, orange peel, and nuts. Very complex and long and immensely
satisfying.
Match: Splendid with the cheese, bringing out the nutty, salty
flavours of the aged Parmesan.
Z is for Zidarich
I was googling away as one does when I saw the tag “Parker reviews Nissan’s Terrano”, and I thought, in my Alan Partridge way, ah-ha, Uncle Bob has finally forsaken the fleshpots of Cali-Merlot in order to sample the more angular charms of Trieste’s finest. But I was mistaken… unless the Wine Advocate had abandoned the notion of reviewing wine in favour of giving them straightforward MOTs. This lively little mover (available only in red) has great straight-line speed across the palate, corners easily over the edges of your tongue and has a delightful framework of fruit on top of a firm chassis of minerality… Can go from 0-90 points in 6 seconds.
Carso is a limestone-rich plateau that extends out from the city of Trieste and reaches toward the Julian Alps to the north. The heavy limestone content of the soils likely gave the zone its name (Carso is thought to be derived from a Celtic word (karst) meaning “land of rock”), and it lends the wines, both white and red, a firm acidic backbone and mouth-watering minerality. On the white side, this means flinty, fragrant accompaniments to fresh seafood in Trieste, Muggia, and other fishing towns along Friuli’s Adriatic basin, while the red Terrano is a high-acid companion to the heartier, Slavic-and-Austrian-inflected food further inland. More on these food combos anon.
The Azienda Zidarich is located in Prepotto, near Duino Aurisina, which is a small and characteristic village of the Carso area. The landscape is extremely varied and stimulating. The vegetation of the environment is very different and enhances the peculiarity of this territory dedicated to viticulture. Jagged chalky rock is the keynote of Carso viticulture, which is carried out on small terraces of red, iron-rich soil that have been reclaimed from the woodland. This lends the wines the characteristic acidity and mineral notes.
Benjamin Zidarich has always had a love-love relationship with the vines of his homeland, although it has been gruelling work creating a vineyard of any meaningful size.
In 1988 I started to replant my father’s half hectare; then “four by four”, I planted many other rows of vines over a space of sixteen years and a bit of progress has been made.
Today those few square metres have become more than six hectares. To many this might seem little or perhaps even ridiculous, but for those who know the Carso and what it means to make a hectare of vineyard to grow on rock, it’s another story. If you haven’t lived through a similar experience you can’t understand what sacrifice is involved in being a vine-dresser on this border land, what stoicism it takes and how much self-abnegation there is in the work of a man who, alone, breaks the hard rock one meter deep, fills the pit with red earth brought up from the bottom of the valley and plants the vines which, after years, may produce grapes.
It’s tough and not always gratifying work, a job that keeps you for whole days and months in the vineyard, that makes you sweat and hope, that disheartens you when you’re tired and exhausted and impels you to talk to the vine, to the water and lastly to the rock, trying to understand it and shape it, to make friends with it and make it a companion in the adventure you have decided to live to the full and that will surely last all your life.
So you start in with pickaxe and hammer and you dig down beyond that meter of rock so you can plant vines, and you realize you’re going farther and farther down, into the bowels of the earth, to build your cellar in those rocks. There, dozens of meters underground, deeper and deeper, following the veining of those rocks where one day you’ll lay your wine to rest peacefully in a place where it will feel protected and guarded.
A job which, I can assure you, is indescribable if you have to do it with the only means at your disposal: arms and brains.
Hands that split and arms that stiffen and then hurt in the evening; a head that becomes empty from tiredness and the heaviness of a sacrifice that seems endless. A numbness that enfolds me, but it disappears as soon as I get back home and find my wife Nevenka and my children Jakob and Martina waiting for me.
I take courage from these smiles that give me new strength to commit myself here in the Carso, seeking the highest quality from these vineyards that fight, as I do, on this very difficult land."”
Friuli, land, people, wine (2004)
Actually, make that a hate-love relationship with the vines!
The red grape that intrigues us here is Terrano or Teran - better known as Refosco. There is plenty of ampelographical spaghetti to unravel. The full moniker of the grape that is most often used to make the finest “Refosco” wines in Friuli is named “Refosco dal Penduncolo Rosso” which means “Refosco with the red stem”. As with so many ancient varieties, however, there has been a considerable amount of both natural mutation and cross-breeding that has left the contemporary Refosco family with several “siblings”. As implied above, Refosco dal Penduncolo Rosso is considered to be the most noble of the varieties, but there are green stemmed versions, as well as a Croatian/Slovenian branch of the family that goes by the name of “Teran” in the former country, and as “Refosk” in the latter. To complicate matters, in many cases, both types of Refosco are planted side by side in the same vineyards. Furthermore, Refosco is cultivated a bit in neighbouring Veneto under the name “Terrano”, and further south in the Romagna region under the name “Cagnina”. And just in case you’re not yet completely confused, the “Mondeuse” variety from the Savoie region in France has been proven to be none other than Refosco, though precisely how and when it arrived there is uncertain.
Refosco dal Penduncolo Rosso seems to have, judging by references made to what is almost surely the same variety, a very long history in Friuli. The earliest references to the variety were made by the Roman historian Pliny the Elder in which he refers to a black-skinned grape with a red stem that produces good wine and which was the favourite wine grape of Livia, Augustus Caesar’s second wife. Later, in an early renaissance work entitled The Annals of Friuli published in 1390 by one Francesco di Manzano, the author also makes reference to a variety that is almost surely RdPR.
Enough grape nerdery. Call it what you will, this Terrano hits all my Marcillac buttons in delivering its refreshing, sappy cargo of wine-plasma. An alluring purple-black colour leads you to sniff a wet-slate, violet-scented nose shot through hints of wild red berries and brambly fruit. The terrific belt of acidity on the palate is reinforced by mineral stoniness akin to melted iron filings (soils in this part of Friuli are very high in iron), red cherry-stone fruit and blackberries. The wine is light-bodied (11.5%) and the acidity washes the mouth beautifully. Bye-bye bottle… It doesn’t really matter what you trough with this. It would be good with lamb or beef stew, anything cooked with duck fat, or a damn fine osso buco. Classic Friulian dishes include Muset co le brovade: boiled spiced gelatinous pork sausages with grated pickled white turnips, or Marcundela, sliced sausage fried in butter, then served with a plate of pasta or an omelette. You could also have this slightly chilled with wild salmon or trout.Another good local dish to match with is crespelle gratinate al Montasio e Sclopit (Ricotta-stuffed crepes with a Montasio cheese frico garnish and a bit of sclopit, chopped bitter spring greens).
Our other wine from Zidarich, and one I could drink endlessly, is Vitovska. The wine is fermented with natural yeasts in open-top wood vats where it sees contact with the skins for eight to ten days. Aging takes place in mid-size Slavonian oak casks and the wines are bottled without fining or filtration. Zidarich’s wines are cloudy in colour, but that is simply the result of wines that have been made with a bare minimum of intervention. Like all whites macerated on the skins, these wines should be served at cellar temperature in large glasses. Representing the purest expression of varietal in its effusion of spices, pears, jasmine and flowers Zidarich’s Vitovska has a rosy, cidery haze to it and enticing aromas of yellow cherries, apples, pears and smoke. In the mouth it is dense, yet not heavy at all, honeyed yet dry and packed full of mineral flavours. It is almost a paradoxical wine, resting on that fragile border between lightness and weight, dry and sweet. It gives the wine tension and energy and makes me want to drink more of it.
In Trieste and its environs one might drink Vitovska with mussels, fresh anchovies or fried baccala. I imagine it would also be excellent with the gnocchi, risotti and the gorgeous local polenta with warm Montasio cheese melted into it.
Sulphites - A Question of Degree?
The words “contains sulphites” appear on virtually all wine labels; as with any labelling it is meaningless because sulphites are, for wine, the best and the worse thing: it is only a question of measure. Yet the presence of sulphur dioxide has to be mentioned from 10mg/l, a very weak potency when the maximum authorized is 160mg/l for reds, 210 mg/l for whites and roses and 400mg/l for sweet wines…
Yet what is the labelling for if it does not mention the quantity? If the ingredients on the package of a supermarket ready meal merely mentioned “salt”, consumer groups and trading standards boards would froth like hydrophobic dogs. Surely highlighting the difference between a bottle of Muscadet with 15 mg/l, an imperceptible amount, worthy of a talented and meticulous winegrower, and one that contains 10 times more, is not only useful, but extremely relevant to people who have an allergenic reaction to high levels of sulphur.
What is important with sulphur dioxide, is not its presence, which is vital and beneficial for most wines, but its potency. Anti-oxidizing, antiseptic and acidifying, sulphur dioxide, as Pasteur understood at the end of the 19th Century, it protects wine from oxygen which changes the aromas until the wine is spoiled. To protect their wines, the Greeks used, with relative success, pine resin and sea water. That’s if you like pine resin and sea water. It was only from the 15th Century that the use sulphur dioxide spread in Europe. As ever, progress leads to abuse, through ease and laziness. Harvests affected by rot, rushed harvests or uncontrolled vinification? Just need to cram it with sulphur dioxide and everything is fine! The winemaker’s (un)natural impulse is to control every process in the winery, to superimpose stability by chemical means. This may be in the best interest of the winemaker; it is not always in the best interest of the wine.
The reds are generally less vulnerable, thanks to their tannins, whilst the whites, rosés and sweet wines, more complex to vinify, are subject to higher concentrations of sulphur dioxide which, in high proportions, not only stings the nose with lingering odours of burned matches, but also causes, by the dilatation of the cerebral vessels, those famous headaches which make some people believe that they can’t tolerate white and rosé wines.
Oenologists’ comprehensive insurance, sulphur dioxide, can be used at every stage of vinification: to protect a damaged harvest, during the pressing, fermentation and maturation and whilst bottling. The worst winegrowers use it all the time. The more discriminating will use it only during the delicate and essential stage of fermentation, to protect the indigenous yeast that will give the wine its delicacy and originality. It is then not a problem to sulphur lightly during bottling, to keep the wine stable.
If then the indication “contains sulphites” does not enlighten the consumer, it has a collateral effect of making more visible a class of wine that is very marginal, but nowadays fashionable –the “sulphur free”- which can now declare on their labels “does not contain added sulphites” or even the gloriously gnomic pas de sulphites.
Some people try never to use SO2. This is a small world of adventurers, whose wines stir up polemics and comments, because they result from excess and doubt: stars rub shoulders with failures. It is undeniable that, when successful, those cuvées provide incomparable feeling, because they achieve an aromatic finesse, ethereal and pure, truly superior, and so it is impossible to tell amongst good winegrowers who bottled the same wine with or without sulphites, like Marcel Lapierre in Beaujolais or Thierry Allemand in Cornas. And their argument is an ethical one. Wine is a product of nature; it is the winemaker’s obligation to keep the unique signature of the terroir alive, not to destroy in order to create. Thus all additions to the wine are eschewed and sulphur is kept to a minimum.
But, like unpasteurised cheeses, those extreme wines are fresh products, alive, fragile. They need cold storage: they must always be under 15oC. They are sometimes subject to “off” periods of several months, when the yeasts “devour” each other. When just opened, the carbonic gas needs to evaporate as it can disturb less-experienced wine drinkers. These wines are exceptional and need to be handled with care. I find that chilling the wines in the fridge for half an hour and decanting it a good option. Non/low-sulphured wines are extremely aromatic – often redolent of yoghurt or cheese (the whites) or the barnyard (reds). You can almost smell the explosive interactions of the yeasts.
Too many winegrowers go into working “without sulphur” with imprudence. “I’m fed up with those jokers whose wine doesn’t hold up one bottle in two!!” complained the owner of one of the most famous organic wine bars in Paris. Aside from some unforgettable miracles, how many broken, faded, oxidized beverages are there, when the main aim is to protect the fruit or the purity of the terroir! The issue is never simply a choice or whether you sulphur or not; it involves creating the preconditions for having that choice available. This, in turn, involves scrupulous attention to detail in the vineyard with organic viticulture, low yields, everything done by hand, triage – everything designed to make the vine more self-reliant and to promote deeper root systems. The most articulate advocate of non-interventionist wine-making is the unquestioned pope of the non-sulphur, Pierre Overnoy. This monument to self-effacement has been vinifying his sumptuous, supremely age-worthy Arbois without SO2 for decades. He explains that working “without sulphur”, is possible “when the vines, ploughed for years, have deep roots that give minerality and natural acidity which protects the wines and which chemicals fertilizers bring down”, when the harvest is “healthy, clean and sorted”, when the yeasts “alive, emit natural sulphites when the wine needs them”… In brief, working “without sulphur”, for the winegrower as well as for the consumer, “is not a commencement, it’s a closure”.
Reality Bites
What is genius in wine? I think we can apply Schopenhauer’s observation: “Genius is its own reward. It serves no useful purpose; it bears no profit. It is as music, or art, or poetry or philosophy. To be useless and unprofitable is the patent of nobility.”
Wine, as we understand it, serves a commercial imperative; 99.9% of wine conforms to this imperative. There are, however, rare wines that exist on their own terms, wherein the winemaker has held back from intervention in that you cannot say with certainty that the wines are good or bad. They are sui generis. Genius comes from within; the genius of wine is thus the perfect expression of itself. Evaluative norms do not apply.
I am not saying wine should be raw grape juice and that the winemaker plays no role. There are numerous transformations and evolutions – indeed the living character of the wine depends on these processes continuing. Stable wine is mute, real wine is in constant flux.
This may mean that two bottles of the same wine may not taste exactly the same, a fearful concept in a world dedicated to homogenous products. Yet since we are content to recognise the possibility of mutability within ourselves why do we not assess wine in the same way? And whilst we would obviously not desire to drink anything unpleasant, nor should we flatten our expectations to look for wines that conform solely to specific flavour profiles (ugly expression).
It is almost easier to describe real wines in terms of what they are not, rather than what they are. In a dynamic sense they draw their inspiration from the soil and the stones, from plant life and insects, from the sun and the wind, from the abundant wild yeasts that populate the vineyards and the winery. The vine is a glorious natural mechanism absorbing countless subtle flavour components. The role of the winemaker is perhaps to recognise the genius of the wine: its capacity to be luminous, uncanny, coalescent and fluid and to bring out that truth as gently and sympathetically as possible.
Jura’s Prudence & Savoie-Faire
Perversely traditional - not just me - but the wines of the Jura (especially) and Savoie.
“Jagged in a velvet-smooth universe” – (Eric Asimov)
The Jura defies many expectations, nowhere more so than in its wines. It is an ancient wine culture and the wines are still made with little regard for fashion. (Thank goodness!) The leading whites have nutty, sherry-like aromas that many people regard as hopelessly oxidized, but they are actually tangy, complex, pure and delicious. The best reds barely have enough colour to be called red. They are delicate and graceful, yet with an earthy intensity that can stand up to the smelliest of cheeses. Almost singularly among wine regions, the reds are usually served before the whites in the Jura because they are lighter in texture.
Most of the growers that we deal with in this region work naturally and organically; the results of their endeavours are evident and permeate the texture and flavours of the wines. These are (often unremittingly) angular wines, stilettos in a world of blunt clubs, but even more than the taste, which I personally go a bundle on, is the sensation from the moment you survey the onion-skin-hued wine in the glass and put it gingerly to your nose, that these are ancient wines made according to traditional recipes, wherein the hardy vines have scoured a meagre living amongst the rubble and detritus left by retreating glaciers.
It is the absence of the wine in the reds that makes them so enchanting and yields an ethereal quality that makes me return to them over and again. They have a beautiful translucent quality, as well as the most delicate minerality and a piercing freshness that denotes purity.
PLOUSSARD WITH NOWT TAKEN OUT
We begin with Emmanuel Houillon who is based in Pupillin, a small village just north of Arbois and self-proclaimed “World Capital of Ploussard”- indeed Houillon’s winery is on the Rue Ploussard! It was Emmanuel’s mentor, vigneron Pierre Overnoy, who originally established the unyielding purist precept that wines should be made without the addition of sulphur. Pierre’s father originally made zero-sulphur wine, but Pierre, who did his internship in Burgundy, experimented with it, until tasting the difference between his father’s wines and his own convinced him that the zero-sulphur wine had a finer aroma.
All the work done in the vineyard and in the winery has several firm objectives in mind, namely to seek out and realise the following qualities: typicity, purity and the capacity to age.
The vines are spaced closely together to compel the roots to plunge deeply into the soil for nourishment and to draw out fine mineral aromas. Moreover, the quantity of grapes on each vine is less important than that which gives the greatest concentration of natural elements. Houillon turns the top six inches of soil, cutting the surface roots and thus depriving the plants of the topsoil’s potassium which otherwise combines with tartaric acid and lowers their acidity.
No chemical herbicides are used as they would kill the indigenous yeasts and disequilibrium of the yeast population would no longer allow fermentation without the use of sulphur dioxide. By ensuring the maximum health of the vines, the diversity of yeast strains is preserved. Sulphur dioxide may kill those yeasts judged undesirable by the modern oenologist, but these yeasts carry a great aromatic and flavour complexity that is of paramount importance for the elaboration of a great wine.
Industrial yeasts provide security to the vigneron during fermentation. Houillon and Overnoy have chosen to let nature be their winemaker and accepted the difficulties and risks that that entails thus preferring the best expression of a variety and a terroir over the security of modern technology and the consequent standardisation of the product.
No chemicals are used whatsoever in the wines, both during the fermentation and during the bottling (including SO2 which is also a preservative). The wine is then transported in good condition and stored in a cool cellar, that is to say 6/8 degrees in winter and 12/14 in summer.
The fermentation uses an important population of indigenous yeasts; after their work they « die in good health » and decompose (an autolytic process which gives the nourishment that the wine needs for a long ageing. Before bottling the wine is unfiltered in order to leave all the material present; it would be a pity to give so much and then to strip it away.
No new oak barrels influence the taste – some of the barrels in use are a century old. Before bottling, the wines are neither filtered nor fined and they retain a lot of CO2, which has an antioxidant effect and helps to convey aroma. The maceration and fermentation give little colour to the Ploussard, with its fine skin. Houillon’s pale, exceptionally light and piercingly fresh red is filled with flavours of morello cherry, redcurrants, wild strawberry and quince, a study in deliciousness, the avatar of purity. Wines such as these have an evanescent quality: they are unpredictable, variable, even fragile. They can react to changes of location and atmospheric pressure. Houillon’s convivial red contradicts the notion that wine should be stable. File defiantly under quirk, strangeness and charm.
CALL ME BACCHUS!
Lucien Aviet, aka Bacchus, makes a delicious Savagnin, a stunning Vin Jaune and some of the best examples of Trousseau I have tasted. These wines from the last grape are the colour of cranberry juice, shiny and clear, as if glazed with shimmering acidity. The nose is beautiful, an impression of rain on stone as well as delineated fruit flavours of morello cherries, bilberries and pippy raspberries. The wine fills the mouth without ever being fat: one can begin to detect secondary aromas of musk, leather and sous-bois.
Each vintage though has a particular accent. The 2004, with its intense bouquet of red fruit jelly and forest berries and earthy tones, is marked by redcurrant and red apple skin crunchy acidity. The initial impression is of primary fruit, but this is definitely is a complex wine with the potential to unfold itself over the next ten to fifteen years. The 2002, meanwhile, has greater concentration and more colour, and displays resinous, almost balsamic tones and dark fruit flavours, especially blackberry, blackcurrant, and liquorice. As with Burgundy across the valley the 2005 is a sterling vintage so expect plenty of ripe fruit. It seems forward but this will last and last carried on waves of fresh-fruit acidity.
RECONDITE GRAPE VARIETIES - NUMBER 342
The vineyards of Domaine Dominique Belluard, situated in Ayze in the Haute-Savoie, rise to about 450m above sea level and from them you can see the spur of the Alps. Some of the vines are planted on the flat grounds near the winery, others terraced on the steep inclination of the exposed south-facing hills behind including some on Terre Feu, a red, scarred, mineral-rich subsoil composed of glacial sediments and moraines (continuous linear deposits of rock and gravel). The Alpine climate ensures a big temperature difference between day and night, ensuring both physiological maturity in the grapes as well as good acidity.
The Gringet grape was once reckoned to be Savagnin, the famous grape of Jura, but ampelographical testing suggests that it is, in fact, an older variety. Now the grape has virtually disappeared from Savoie with only Belluard holding any significant quantities: and that a mere 8ha. Most Gringet goes into the production of sparkling wines which are a local speciality and likely to remain so.
Dominique is a serious proponent of biodynamic viticulture. He speaks all of the time of ‘balance’ with regard to the vine and its environment, the relationship of the plant and the cosmos and that the preparations given to the plant are to enable it to find this balance. When we visited the estate last year he frequently mentioned the alignment of the planets and telluric forces and a few eyes rolled, but I suppose that if you don’t work the land you’re not in tune with the rhythms of nature and all such talk must seem like arrant poppycock. The notion of achieving balance derives from holistic aspect of biodynamics that sets out the idea that all life is trying to achieve internal harmony and that we can create the preconditions for this state by observing and understanding how the natural world (or the world of natural forces and energies) works.
In his not hugely prepossessing paint-flaking winery which seems to be held together by masking tape Dominique expounds on his dislike of oak (it deadens the flavour) whilst pouring us some Gringet from the tank. He’s not a fan of stainless steel either, believing that it doesn’t allow the wine to breathe properly. As a result he has installed oval cement betons. All the wines we tasted were fantastically pure, especially the mineral Gringet from the Terre de Feu terroir. No malolactic fermentation here thus the fruit tastes beacon-bright and the acidity sings. The wine conveys initial aromas of jasmine, is citrus-edged with a hint of white peach, elderberry and violet and a twist of aniseed to finish. The latest Gringet cuvées from the egg-shaped tanks are more emollient and slightly more textural as if the lees contact had smoothed some of the stony aggression. Using fermentation vessels of this shape obviates the necessity for batonnage; the gentleness of the extraction seems to create rich layers of leesy flavour. As with the Jura reds these whites have that palpable “mountain purity”, simultaneously intense yet fresh.
Two Original Loire Varieties
Pineau is assuredly on the menu in the recondite forms of Menu Pineau (a white variety that has dropped through the oubliette of fashion) and the red Pineau d’Aunis, better known, but still liable to elicit a glassy-eyed what? from all but the most nerdish of wine afficionados. But though we at Les Caves are snappersup of unconsidered trifles, these wines have a more substantial interest as they are living, drinking proof of traditional Loire wines and therefore worth the detour.
Originel Blanc, Julien Courtois 2004
I’m going to nail my taste-buds to the standard here – this is my wine. While it is certainly mad enough to appeal to my warped sensibility, it also has a sheer honesty that seems bring a smile of bemused lack of recognition to all who taste it. I enjoy its unorthodoxy on all levels; I’m content to delve into its undoubted pelagic depths at my leisure.
Situated in the heart of Sologne, 35 km from Blois, Claude Courtois and his son Julien elaborate their wines according to ancestral methods and are zealous advocates of natural wine. “Nature admits no lie”, as Carlyle said, and Courtois (Claude) often says that his wine is made from “true grapes”, pointing out that the French vineyards are generally doped with chemicals in order to guarantee bigger yields. There is a price to pay for whereas a vigneron using chemicals can tend ten hectares by himself, in bio it takes three people. The first time Eric met Claude Courtois the latter was digging a hole in the ground on his estate. “What’s the hole for?” Eric asked. “To bury my enemies”, replied Claude darkly. You spray at your peril in his proximity.
Originel is a reference to the taste and methods of production of traditional white wines in this region of the Loire and Cher. The producers of Menu Pineau, a typical white variety of this region, can be counted on the fingers of one hand and number Claude Courtois, Julien’s father, and the Puzelats. The variety is also locally known as Arbois and Verdet as the grapes on certain vine remain green even at full maturity. Judged as poor in quality and less modish than Sauvignon it is not planted any more, surviving purely thanks to certain local sweet wines where it forms a minor part of the blend. Here it responds well to the extremely low yields (20 hl/ha), a third of the average for this admittedly rare variety. The specific terroir – silica and flint over clay and flint – linked to the upbringing of the wine (twelve months in barriques) confers a great deal of complexity to the final wine. A silky ensemble, both racy and powerful with ripe fruits on top of secondary aromatics of menthol, gentiane and butter and churned cheese. Carafe this wine two hours before drinking. When you drink it the following thoughts will trickle into your mind. Is it oxidised and is the wine meant to taste like this? Stop analysing, start enjoying.
I describe this as “like Chenin on acid” (man) because I pick up many of that grape’s signature aromas: wax, hay, marzipan and ripe cheese. The palate has a surprise bite of nervous acidity which brings all the aromas and flavours into clear focus. Someone at the France Under One Roof tasting observed that it reminded them an apple tarte tartin (an upside down one, surely?). Or to give it an alliterative skip how about “liquid tart tarte tatin”? Like all interesting wines this Originel changes in the glass. Bring on the Brie de Meaux!
Cotes du Vendomois, Domaine de Montrieux 2005
The name “Pineau” rhymes with “Pinot” and comes from the same linguistic root that translates as “pine cone,” presumably from the imagined shape of grapes hanging in bunches on the vine. It’s not a member of the Pinot family, though; nor, says Jancis Robinson in her “Guide to Wine Grapes,” is it “Red Chenin,” although Loire growers sometimes give it the alternative name “Chenin Noir.”
In fact, it’s an individual variety all its own, bearing small black grapes and with a history in the Loire that goes back to medieval times and supped enthusiastically by the court of Henry III. If casually grown and greedily harvested, it makes an insipid wine and is mostly used nowadays, if at all, in blends with Cabernet Franc and other varieties in reds and rosés.
But the idiosyncratic producer Thierry Puzelat (see still does it the old-fashioned way, nurturing very old Pineau d’Aunis vines and pruning back to ensure very small yields of very intense grapes. The result, like most good Loire reds, might not please those who prefer big, bold, in-your-face blockbusters; but if you enjoy subtlety and intriguing minerality in your wine, then this will be your bag of herbs and stone-fruit.
Domaine de Montrieux was created in 1999 by Emile Heredia. The parcels of vines were chosen for their quality: the old age of the vines, the quality of the soils and the expositions. Soils are flint with clay on top of limestone. The age of the vines permits a natural reduction of the yields and deep root systems assure minerality and intensity of the wines.
In order to improve equilibrium and life of the soil and to allow flora and fauna to flourish no chemical products are employed. Sulphur and copper are only used in tiny doses and tisanes made from horsetail and nettle ensure effective phytosanitary protection. Manual harvest respects the quality of the grapes and yields are tiny: 35 hl/ha from densely planted old Pineau d’Aunis vines. To further this natural approach neither artificial yeasts nor other additives are used in the winemaking process except for a smidge of sulphur at bottling.
The wine produced is an exact reflection of the vintage, the terroir and the work of men.
When making his red wines Heredia has delved into the past to rediscover traditional techniques, such as using open barrels to crush the grapes underfoot, then closing them and waiting until the festival of Paques. Heredia works in a similar hands-on, foot-down way, observing the rhythms of the natural calendar. The fermentation occurs in barrels which have been used to make eight previous wines and after the malo has finished in May the wine is bottled.
After a natural semi-carbonic maceration the wine obtained is light, spicy with delicate tannins. The first time I tasted this Coteaux du Vendomois I was impressed by its sheer freshness and funky bounce. A cheeky whiff of white pepper is quickly followed by a lovely minerality reminiscent of rainwater washing over limestone. Wild strawberries follow, ripe and sweet, leading into a tart, bone-dry red-berry flavour that’s light-bodied but mouth-filling. Lemony acidity, subtle berries and white pepper linger in a long finish. It is be drunk fresh, its mineral, peppery side helps it to marry with grills, charcuterie, cheese and even fish. I could see this as my summer red, with a bottle of perpetually magnetised to the inside of my fridge during those months without a vwl in them. Heck – I’ll drink this wine in months that have a consonant in them as well.
The second occasion I assayed the wine was at the Thomas Cubitt with buyer/sommelier Simon Howland. This time the wine seemed fleshier, offering aromas of sour cherry, almond, thyme, and fennel. Bright and juicy yet also dense and creamy on the palate, with rich black cherry fruit and an invigoratingly tart fruit skin edge and chalky undertone, this practically exploded with concentrated bitter black cherry, plum, and herbal elixirs in a finish also marked by a continued counterpoint of creaminess with subtle chalk and fruit skin astringency. I polished off the remainder of the bottle with some chorizo-topped pizza and it was mighty fine, but if you force me to don the ticking toque… I’m thinking terrine of rabbit, I’m thinking rillons, I’m thinking pigeon en croute, I’m thinking grilled salmon with samphire – better stop thinking and start cooking.
France Under One Roof - March 2008
A burp in a jar is not a science project (The Simpson’s) and a trade tasting rarely gives the qui-vive of a particular country’s wine culture. I don’t know why I said that. Perhaps it is the lack of focus – as a visitor you have no idea what is going to be on display in terms of quality. Nevertheless, wine merchants are honour-bound to fly the flag each year and display wines that are interesting and original and demonstrate the strengths of the country or region in question.
We treated France Under One Roof as an opportunity to show various new wines (Loires, Burgundies and so forth) and a few offbeat numbers that rarely see the light of day. As usual we focused on terroir wines, expressive of fruit, climate and vintage, wines made with a light touch and without too many interventions.
Morgon, Cote de Py, Jean Foillard 2006
I have run out of superlatives for Foillard’s Cote de Py, a wine made from a vines growing on decomposed schists. Foillard works organically, although he is not certified and carries on the theme of minimal intervention in the winery where the wines are neither filtered nor fined and see no sulphur other than a jot at bottling. I cracked open three samples of the wax-sealed bottles and each was as pure as the last. Wonderful aromas of black plum and damson seasoned by herbs and pepper. Generous in the mouth, some wood-smoke and minerals and grip.
Brouilly, Croix des Rameaux, Jean-Claude Lapalu 2005
I’ve always thought of Brouilly as one quaff away from straight Beau Jolly, in other words red wine red lolly. With Jean-Claude Lapalu’s wine you can detect the fists behind the fruit. This is one of the new crew of sternly-made rock steady cru Beaujolais.
Grapes are hand-picked and sorted, loaded by conveyor to avoid damage, and given neither SO2 nor cultured yeasts during the fermentation. During 8-10 days maceration a wooden grill is used to enhance extraction. The wine stays at least a half year on its fine lees gaining power and complexity. And yet the Brouillys are neither heavy nor clumsy and one could easily imagine them ageing ten to fifteen years.
The Croix des Rameaux is an extraordinary wine from eighty year old vines. It tastes like a Rhone with some serious leather, tar, black olive and cherry. The two reactions to this wine at the tasting were woof and wow!
Foillard’s and Jean-Claude Lapalu’s wines function like the grand beasts of Burgundy and would not turn up their noses at feathered game and have sufficient stuffing to tackle wild rabbit or grilled calf’s liver.
Puligny-Montrachet, Domaine Sylvain Bzikot 2006
Puligny-Montrachet “Perrières”, Domaine Sylvain Bzikot 2006
Vineyard work is traditional with an emphasis on lutte raisonnée. All the grapes for the village wines are hand picked, then a pneumatic press is used to aid soft extraction and the wines are clarified in thermoregulated tanks. Upbringing for the village Puligny is in 50% new and one year old oak and 50% tank, whilst the 1er cru wines sees 2/3 new oak and 1/3 tank. After eight to ten months, once the alcoholic and malolactic fermentations are finished, the wines are assembled in stainless steel for several months, fined, very slightly filtered and bottled.
Evoking grace and refinement Bzikot’s village Puligny-Montrachet also has richness and density, seductive aromas of fresh butter, hazelnut and fresh fruits and also a lovely citrus freshness to round off. This last element was extremely pronounced at the tasting. The Perrières raises the game a notch with its finely-constructed palate and smoky, mineral quality reflected on the nose. It has a lifted palate of ripe quince and some oak flavours (warm brioche-and-butter and cinnamon).
Chassagne-Montrachet Blanchots-Dessous, Domaine Coffinet-Duvernay 2006
Chassagne-Montrachet 1er cru Fairendes, Domaine Coffinet-Duvernay 2006
Domaine Coffinet is a family estate handed down from generation to generation from 1860 in the village of Chassagne-Montrachet. A significant plot due to its considerable surface area, « Les Blanchots Dessous » lies just underneath “Criots-Bâtard-Montrachet”. The vines grow on a deep clay-calcareous soil with some marl and face south near the base of the slope at two hundred metres altitude. The grapes for the wine are carefully harvested and sorted. After the must settles, the fermentation takes place in barrels (30% new oak) and is subsequently matured for fourteen to sixteen months in barriques depending on the vintage. The wine undergoes fining but no filtration. Bold aromas of citrus and ripe peach emerge from the glass. This is an intense style, quite full, with a sense of opulence. Very mineral with several layers.
“Les Fairendes” is a premier cru vineyard of some twenty-seven acres of 42 year old vines, based on the Morgeot AOC. The lowest part of the plot is mostly marl and planted with Pinot Noir, the highest part is very rocky on brown limestone and is planted with Chardonnay. The estate is worked following the sustainable farming philosophy. They practise green harvesting depending on the vintage. Yields are a very reasonable 40-45hl/ha with the grapes manually picked in the third week of September. Expressive, almost racy nose of bright, minerally lemon fruit. The complex palate shows a good concentration of tight mineral fruit with some rich nuttiness underneath.
As with the best examples of white Burgundy these were tightly-wound wines that slowly unveiled a beautiful composition of honeyed fruit, integrated spicy oak and fine, lingering minerality.
These wines would be delicious with sweetbreads, but best with simply cooked turbot.
Macon-Chaintre Vieilles Vignes, Domaine Valette 2006
Pouilly-Fuissé, Domaine Valette 2006
Working the soil, chemical-free viticulture, short pruning, the Valettes do a huge amount of work amongst the vines to maximise the expression of their terroir. This Macon from one of the region’s steadfastly independent families in the village of Chaintre, 10km south of Macon, is from vines aged 60 years and above planted on clay-slica soils. Harvest is manual in late September and the entire harvest is pressed slowly with a pneumatic press. Vinification is natural: without sulphur, without yeasts, chaptalization or acidification. Elevage is for twenty-six months on the fine lees in tank (20%) and futs de chene (80%). Ripe apple, honey, lemon and grey mineral all come together in a distinctly mature, winey nose. Clarity of fruit and good acidity show through, with a more lush profile than Chablis but a long, almost crystalline finish. On the nose, fresh citrus, minerally and leesy notes abound, while the palate’s emphatic, zippy, with a generous mealy texture.
The Pouilly-Fuissé is an assembly of several different terroirs: Clos Reyssié, Clos de Mr Noly, Chevrières and Plantes Vieilles. The vines are around 50 years old on limestone-clay. The harvest is in October when the grapes have reached full maturity and elevage is thirty-six months on the fine lees in futs de chene. Tasting note, please? If you insist. Valette’s Pouilly reverberates with nerve and verve; it is elegant and mouth-watering with grapefruit crunch, more than a whiff of gunflint and warm hazelnut on the back of the palate and some serious citric drive to the acidity. Puligny look to your laurels.
Reserve de Gassac Blanc 2007
Hullo – what’s this? It smells delicious… mmm… honeysuckle, apricot, lime – the scent of bottled spring flowers. Mmm… hint of pear… almond… beeswax. It’s fresh… some bitter lime. It’s completely drinkable. How much, Monsieur Guibert? How little? Let that remain our secret until you can provide us with enough volume to satisfy the slavering hordes.
Other wines shown included the Originel Blanc, Julien Courtois 2004; Trousseau, Cuvée des Géologues, Caveau de Bacchus 2004; Arbois Pupillin Rouge, Emmanuel Houillon 2004; three from Champagne Philipponnat; a further trio from Thierry Puzelat, and Mas de Daumas Rouge 2006 (just bottled) and their 1995.
Pesticide Residues in Wine
Wine is a natural product. Well, up to a point, Lord Copper (Sulphate)…
Jamie Goode writes on his Wine Anorak blog:
“Pesticide Action Network (PAN)(Europe) makes for rather alarming reading. Titled Message in a bottle, it reports the results of tests on 40 bottles of wine purchased within the European Union. ‘European wines systematically contaminated with pesticide residues’, is the conclusion. The report comments: ‘Together the 34 bottles of conventional wine contained 148 pesticide residues. All 34 bottles contained at least one pesticide, while the mean number of pesticides per bottle was more than four. The highest number of residues found in a single bottle was 10.’ Does this mean wine drinkers are in danger, and that there is a systematic failure by regulatory bodies to do the appropriate monitoring?”
After analysing the research about maximum permissible levels of exposure Jamie Goode’s conclusion is that the levels of agrochemicals aren’t high enough to warrant sufficient concerns about health safety. Although trace elements of pesticides in wines may pose no discernible health risks, it is rather too convenient for growers to assume a relativist view on this subject and to conclude that because human health is not at issue it is fine to spray a cocktail of chemicals on their vines.
Jamie cites three fungicides - amongst many - in common use with a potted description of their effects
Dimethomorph - Reported as not likely to be a human carcinogen
Pyrimethanil - Not acutely toxic
Carmendazim - Bad for earthworms
Hmm – hardly ringing endorsements for these products.
Such pesticides may not harm us in tiny quantities, but what about the worms, bugs and beneficial insect life that live amongst the vines. I am not willing to subscribe to the notion that pesticides are discerning and intelligently targeted so as to eliminate one pest without affecting other forms of life that well nearby. This begs several questions. Is the measurement regime foolproof? Does it only take account of the health impact of individual pesticide residues or does it consider the likely effect of chemical cocktails? What happens when the wrong quantities of mixtures are sprayed? Political or legal directives are not the issue here; surely it is environmentally responsible to cultivate a chemical-free environment where natural solutions are found to natural problems – such as integrated pest management – and where the health and natural resistance of the vine is encouraged instead of chemical dependence.
Natural Solutions
Do not correct with a strike that which can be taught with a kiss.
Moroccan Proverb
Farming has been in thrall to the easy nostrum, le quick-fix since the 1950s. So many vineyards, especially in regions where the vine is a monoculture, have used agrochemicals to discipline the vines for a long time. Agriculture is another type of mass-industry, the containment and exploitation of nature for our own ends. The continuous application of chemicals has effectively destroyed the biodiversity of many vineyards, whilst at the same time making the vines lazy.
The PAN research tested organic wines for pesticide residues:
Of the six bottles of organic wine tested, five contained no detectable pesticide residues. These results provide a clear proof of principle that pesticide free wine production is possible where no synthetic pesticides are applied to grapes.
It is interesting how often you will see two contiguous vineyards, one where chemical sprays have been extensively applied and one which is entirely organic or biodynamic. The thriving nature of the organic vineyard suggests that the chemicals interventions are completely unnecessary; in fact one wonders whether many farmers employ pesticides because of a tangible scientific benefit, but rather for their voodoo properties (it makes them feel secure by keeping the unseen enemy at bay). It is like popping pills in case you feel ill in the future. What you notice when you visit chemically dependent vineyards is how lifeless they are: sans plants, sans flowers, sans insect life, sans worms, sans life.
Luc de Conti is a powerful critic of modern farming methods. According to him the soil is lifeless (“a cadaver”) and it is a fifteen year process to rid the ground of pollutants. In his vineyard the soil, which is turned constantly, is also nourished with seaweed and silica treatments to encourage microbial activity. The rich life in the vineyard is manifested in the incredible number of different wild yeast strains present, something that translates later into fantastic complexity in the wines that he makes.
Didier Barral has 25-hectares of biodynamically-farmed vineyards on slightly acid schist soils in which a little of everything grows. Everything starts from the soil which must be made as healthy as possible.
“Nowadays, farmers feed the planet but destroy it at the same time. Sometimes they think they are doing the right thing by ploughing too often for example, which eventually damages the soil structure. We have to observe nature and to understand how micro-organisms operate. Then we see that tools and machinery can never replace the natural, gentle work of earthworms, insect and other creatures that travel through a maze of tunnels, creating porosity and aerating the soil, making it permeable and alive. There’s grass in our vineyards and amongst the grass, there are cows and horses: a whole living world that lives together, each dependent on the other and each being vital to the balance of the biotope.” This is an extraordinary micro-climate where the mountains on one side and the proximity of the garrigue which shelters fauna and flora create the preconditions for an excellent terroir. Didier is adamant that cow manure is the best, and not having delved too deeply into these matters, as it were, who are we to say otherwise? A photographic album of the vineyards could be entitled: My Favourite Bugs or A Diet of Worms or even A Riot of Worms, for it reveals astonishing diversity of benevolent creepycrawlydom, indication of a thriving, living soil. Natural solutions prevail: small birds make their nests in the clefts of the vines (these nests lined with the horse hair that has been shedded) and they prey on the mites and bugs that are the enemies of the vine.
The PAN report seems measured in its conclusions. Its remit is to indicate the level of chemical spraying (between 1993 and 2003 the dose of synthetic fungicides applied to grapes in the EU increased by roughly 22%) and to set suggested targets to reverse this trend. The countervailing scientific approach that measures the impact of each toxin on an average human being and subsequently asserts that there is no risk from pesticide residues misses the wider point. This reminds me of Kant’s observation that science is organised knowledge, but wisdom is organised life. Scientists do not address the moral question whether it is right in the first place to contaminate the soil with pesticides. Governments should regulate more stringently against the continued use of chemical pesticides and establish a timetable marking the conversion to sustainable and organic agriculture.
A Class of Their Rhone - Domaine Ferme Saint-Martin
Some recent driblets of watery sunshine and I was all prepared to banish the reds in the back of the cupboard (my soi-disant wine cellar) and unleash the blinking pinks into the light of day. However, one doesn’t have to slug back garishly-hued wines to experience seasonal smiles and Provencale mirth. A trio of red wines from our new agency Domain Ferme Saint-Martin demonstrate that soft-fruited reds can be fun and serious at the same time; the sort of pleasure that makes you think about the way you appreciate wine.
Domaine Ferme Saint-Martin is situated in Suzette in the upper part of the Beaumes-de-Venise. The vineyard work is free of chemicals and the estate has organic certification. Their philosophy is encapsulated thus:
The quality of grapes is paramount and determined by triage in the vines and on a table at the winery. All wines are fermented with natural yeasts. The Terres Jaunes is from vines grown on the Triassic limestone that dominates the terroir of Beaumes-de-Venise. The yields are a moderate 35-38 hl/ha of Grenache (75%) and Syrah (25%). After a tri de vendange, and total destemming there is a15- 20 day maceration. After a short period in vat, the wine is bottled unfiltered with a very small dose of sulphur. It has an intense ruby colour and powerful garrigue-scented nose of pepper and spice and typically mouth-filling flavours. This is a slow-burner: the fruits are soft and ripe with enough pepper to allay that puddin’ and jam excess; the wine then moves into the animal realm acquiring distinctive meaty aromatics and back notes of balsam, roasted herb and creosote. It’s 14%, but nifty for its size. I drank it with a stir fry (sliced steak, red onions, chilli, garlic, pak choi, sesame and bean sprouts) and the combination was very happy. My final mouthful of the wine was a thick sludgy-slick of sediment - I like my terroir in granular form.
The Cotes du Ventoux vineyards are situated on gravel soils in St Hyppolyte le Graveyron. The south-facing vines are 20-45 years old. La Gérine (Grenache/Carignan blend) undergoes a semi-carbonic maceration without sulphur and using indigenous yeasts. The grapes are lightly trodden by foot and, after vinification, the wine is bottled without filtration and with a very light dose of sulphur. An elegant racy wine that reveals lovely purity with dark berry fruits on the nose and aromas of wild bay-leaf and roasted herb to give the palate an extra dimension.
The baby Cotes du Rhone is produced in the commune of Suzette from parcels of vines not classified as Beaumes de Venise and from young vines just entering production. The yields are still relatively low (45 hl/ha). A blend of 80% Grenache and 20% Cinsault, this is a wine very much on the fruit with soft confit fruits and a gentle dusting of pepper. The colour is entrancing, the bonniest purple imaginable, and you don’t need to dip your beak very deep into the glass before you encounter some booming primary fruit aromas: think super-ripe blackcurrants and blueberries, even wild raspberries – a lush nosegay by any standards. The wine sashays happily across the palate in that just-fermented-juice-on-the-loose fashion. It may not be an “archi-textured” wine, but its cheery naturalness and spankingly sapid fresh fruit (12.5% allied with a good acidity sends it carelessly sloshing down the hatch.) I would serve this fresh, even chilled, when the weather warrants it, with some thyme-encrusted garlic-studded lamb chops and masses of potatoes roasted in goose fat.
Definitive Armagnac - Darroze by any other name
History
The story begins with Jean Darroze’s restaurant in Villeneuve-de-Marsan in the Landes. In love with his native Southwest France and its ancient traditions, this famous chef taught his son about gastronomy and fine wine – as well as introducing him to that excellent Gascon brandy, Armagnac. Indulging his taste for tradition and fine local products, Francis Darroze travelled throughout the famous Bas-Armagnac region with his father – an experienced and demanding taster – to discover treasures hidden in small, far-flung estates. In time, he became a true expert in selecting the region’s very best Armagnacs. He set up his own company in 1974 and his son Marc, a trained oenologist, followed his footsteps in 1996. The father and son “treasure hunters” (as Martine Nouet described them in her book Eaux-de-vie: le guide), have scoured Armagnac for many years searching for liquid gold. They do this not only for the thrill of the hunt, but also to satisfy their faithful clientele.
Marc Darroze now runs the business alone, since Francis retired and continues where his father left off, tracking down inimitable vintage Armagnacs.
Armagnac: a precious treasure
cultural and historic diversity…
Viticulture in Armagnac goes back to Roman times, as illustrated by mosaics discovered in the ruins of Gallo-Roman villas in the Gers. In the late 6th century, the Vascons invaded an area later named after them, becoming the Duchy of Gascony in 670.
“Armagnac” owes its name to the knight Herreman, a companion of Clovis, who received the region as a reward for his bravery. Herreman latinised his name, which became Arminius and then Arminiacus. Gascons later transformed this into “Armagnac”, which first appears in writing in the 10th century. The first reference to Armagnac as a product goes back to a 1464 document regulating its sale. However, there is proof that Armagnac’s aqua ardente was already highly-esteemed – as a medicine - at the Vatican circa 1310.
Armagnac is the oldest grape brandy in France (Cognac did not put in an appearance until 1725).
In the 17th century, the Dutch bought most of the wines produced near the French Atlantic coast, except for Bordeaux, which was reserved for the English. So it was only normal that they should begin to buy wine from winegrowers in the Gers. However, fearing competition, authorities in Bordeaux all but put a stop to their shipments under the pretext that only Bordeaux wines were allowed to be transported via the Garonne river. This is referred to as the Grand Privilège de Bordeaux, which penalised wines from inland vineyard regions. However, grape brandy was allowed to be shipped on the river, even if wine was not. Winegrowers in the Gers therefore began to distil their wine. It is believed that the Arabs invented the pot still, and known for a fact that they perfected the art of distillation and spread its use in the Western world. The Moors brought their ancient techniques with them when they crossed the Pyrenees.
Armagnac brandy became a commercial success. To build up a reserve stock to tide producers over in poor vintages, it began to be stored in wooden barrels that had already been used to store other products since Celtic times.
Armagnac became increasingly popular in the 18th and early 19th centuries. This popularity was unfortunately brutally interrupted circa 1870 when phylloxera struck, thrusting Armagnac into the bleakest period of its history. Out of some 100,000 hectares of vines in existence at the time, only a quarter were replanted, and it took a long time for business to get back on its feet. People in Armagnac decided to work together to improve the situation.
Armagnac
Official recognition
Armagnac’s official legal existence goes back to 1909, when it was awarded an appellation contrôlée. The law dated May 25th 1909 (Décret Fallière) also defined the region of production and its three sub-appellations. A law dated August 6th 1936 definitively delimited the Appellation d’Origine Contrôlée and defined the production process.
Armagnac
Armagnac today
*Armagnac-producing vineyards now cover approximately 2,000 hectares, and annual production amounts to nearly 18,000 hectolitres of pure alcohol.
*There are approximately 5,000 producers, 1,000 stock holders, and 60 shippers (négociants) such as Les Armagnacs Francis Darroze.
*Armagnac is currently exported to over 132 countries.
Armagnac
Armagnac’s terroir
The Armagnac region covers parts of three French départements – mainly in the Gers and, to a lesser extent, the Landes and Lot-et-Garonne.
There are three distinct terroirs:
- Bas-Armagnac, the jewel of the appellation, is located in the Gers and part of the Landes. It represents 57% of the entire Armagnac appellation. Bas-Armagnac’s silty, sandy soil (called sable fauve, or fawn-coloured sand) produces fruity, light, delicate brandy of great finesse.
- The Ténarèze region is located in the north-west part of the Gers and the southern part of the Lot-et-Garonne. It accounts for 40% of the entire Armagnac appellation. Ténarèze’s clay-limestone soil produces rich, full-bodied brandy that takes a long time to reach maturity.
- Haut-Armagnac, is often called called “Armagnac Blanc” because of the chalky soil. This region is in the east of Le Gers and part of the Lot-et-Garonne. The vineyards are very scattered.
Last, but not least, even if not officially acknowledged by the appellation laws, many connoisseurs consider that there is now a fourth area, “Grand Bas-Armagnac”. This encompasses several communes in the extreme northwest part of the appellation with sables fauves (fawn-coloured sand).
A number of the estates selected by Francis and Marc Darroze are located in this area.
Armagnac
Grape varieties and wines
Like Cognac, Armagnac is distilled white wine.
The most frequently used grape varieties in Armagnac are:
Ugni Blanc (50% of the entire vineyard area)
Colombard (4%)
Folle Blanche, also known as Piquepoul or Picpoul (1%)
However, a 1936 law authorises up to eleven varieties, including Jurançon, Blanquette, Mauzac, and above all, Baco 22 A.
Baco accounts for 45% of all wine distilled in Armagnac, but 70% of all Bas-Armagnac.
Armagnac is produced the traditional way from white wines made with white grapes. These wines have good acidity and a low alcoholic degree of (8-9.5% by volume). The grapes are directly pressed (without crushing) to avoid oxidation, and the wine is left on its lees until distillation.
This distillation procedure is as much responsible for the distinction between Cognac and Armagnac as are the different grape varieties.
Armagnac
The magic of distillation
The wines are mainly distilled using the Armagnac method, i.e. continuous distillation. This is done in winter, once the alcoholic fermentation is over, and must be completed before March 31st of the year following the vintage (although, for the last few years, this date has been brought forward to January 31st).
Distillation takes place either at the estate (often by mobile distilling units), at a distillery, by legally-approved home distillers, or at a cooperative cellar.
Armagnac
The mysteries of ageing
After distillation, Armagnac is aged in 400-litre oak casks. This is one of the most important stages in its production.
It entails three main phenomena:
- extraction of tannin from the barrels
- evaporation of some of the Armagnac (known as la part des anges or the “angels’ share") accompanied by a decrease in its alcoholic content
- development of complex aromas due to slow oxidation (minute quantities of air passing through the barrel).
Armagnac gradually absorbs tannin and colour from the barrel, while acquiring a characteristic oaky flavour and scent. Once the Armagnac has spent an optimum time in new or little-used barrels, it is transferred to completely “neutral” barrels, where it will go on ageing for an extremely long time.
Darroze: a leading name in Armagnac –
Founded by Francis Darroze in 1974, the family business was established in the village of Roquefort. Recently-constructed buildings include offices, a carefully-designed cellar, and a new visitor reception area devoted to promoting the Darroze selection of fine Bas-Armagnacs.
As traditional shippers, Francis and his son Marc buy Armagnac from some forty Bas-Armagnac estates. Thanks to their warm, straightforward manner, intuition, and patience, they have managed to convince small producers to entrust them with their treasures.
Armagnacs Darroze have remained a down-to-earth company, and their realistic attitude, in harmony with local winegrowers, helps them to offer highly individual Armagnacs of outstanding quality.
The Darroze philosophy is based on two fundamental principles laid down by Francis Darroze – quality and tradition.
Darroze: traditional Armagnac
Darroze Armagnac is made in the time-honoured, traditional way. The shipper’s art of blending does not come into play here. Armagnac from each terroir and each vintage is kept separate and it is never diluted to reduce the alcoholic degree.
Each Armagnac is sold under the name of the estate that produced it. No artificial colouring or water is added. Armagnac usually has 53% alcohol by volume, occasionally 56% or 57%.
As a sign of respect for each producer, each Armagnac is bottled separately, estate by estate.
Darroze offers Armagnacs from twenty estates every year*.
Darroze: quality
The greatest Armagnacs come from fawn-coloured sandy terroir in Bas-Armagnac. Select estates here produce brandy appreciated by connoisseurs the world over.
Other than their terroir, the quality of Darroze Armagnacs is also due to careful monitoring of the distillation process at each estate by a travelling master distiller.
This ‘“wizard" manages to bring out the very best of the soil and the grape varieties.
However, a number of estates have their own pot still, and Marc Darroze makes sure to keep a watchful eye over the distillation there.
The Armagnacs are then aged at the company cellar in Roquefort. This modern cellar, with very thick walls, holds some 1,800 hectolitres of stock in 500 casks. This is one of the largest collections of fine Armagnac in the world.
The young Armagnac is initially aged in a dry environment – the first floor of the cellar, with wooden beams – for two or three years in new black Gascon oak barrels. Once these new barrels have released all their tannin, the Armagnac is transferred to used barrels for ten to fifteen years. The partially-aged Armagnac is then moved to the ground floor with a beaten earth floor and greater humidity (70-75%). Loss due to evaporation is less here, and the Armagnac softens. On average, Darroze Armagnacs are thus aged for a total of fifteen to twenty-five years in 400-litre casks.
These casks are made by the last surviving Landes cooper from local oaks. Each cask is marked with the name of the estate, vintage, capacity and alcohol by volume. In the future, Marc Darroze will buy standing crops of this precious oak in the interest of traceability and to select oak that is best adapted to ageing his premium Armagnacs.
Marc Darroze, does his utmost to age his Armagnacs under the best possible conditions. He tastes, monitors extraction from oak barrels, evaluates the “angels’ share”, homogenises, and moves casks around. Above all, he is infinitely patient – because this is the key to attaining the subtle balance between oak and Armagnac.
Thanks to regular tasting, Marc Darroze keeps a close eye on all stages of the ageing process. Once the Armagnacs have reached their peak, they are bottled and ready to be enjoyed. The ageing process is over – Armagnac does not change once in bottle.
All Darroze Armagnacs are sold at their natural alcohol level – no distilled water is added.
They are put in traditional Armagnac bottles with an attractive buff-coloured label. The calligraphy on the label reminds us that Armagnac is a handcrafted product. The vintage date on the main label and the bottling date on the back label.
Armagnacs Francis Darroze guarantee complete traceability, and all useful information is printed on the label to inform consumers and inspire brand loyalty.
Marc Darroze currently sells Armagnacs from forty different estates. Forty percent of his stock comes from the same estates every year, 40% from estates that no longer exist*, and 20% from estates where the owners age their own Armagnac. Monitoring quality and developments at all these estates requires a great deal of time, sensitivity, passion, and a willingness to share.
Marc Darroze does not consider himself just a simple merchant. His approach is totally different, largely based on building up close relationships based on mutual respect, recognition, and sharing with people who take pride in their work. Once the Armagnac has been distilled, Marc Darroze can be sure that it is worthy of ageing in his cellar. This ageing is done with the greatest of care to guarantee consumers a product that is not only excellent, but also ready to drink. The optimum moment for bottling is so important because it represents the culmination of history, geography, and hard work by the people who produced it.
Nicq of Thyme - Pure Roussillon
Défenseur des vins de fruit, de plaisir et de terroir, Jean-François Nicq incarne une nouvelle génération des Côtes-du-Roussillon. Sorry, I should be writing this in English. It’s just that these wines liberate my inner terroir.
Jean-François Nicq took over the domaine in 2002. It was then ten hectares and he planted a further two on beautiful schist and gneiss (very gneiss) slopes. In his first year he began the conversion to organic viticulture. In his previous job he vinified the wines at the co-op in the Cotes du Rhone (Estezargues) where he worked without sulphur and maintained this practice of natural winemaking at Foulards for his first vintage.
The terroir is Les Albères in the Pyrenees-Orientales, 10km from the sea and Collioure, where the maritime influence brings the freshness that enables the wines to reach phenolic maturity without excessive alcohol. The nor-nor –east exposition of the vines compounds this character and finally the soils which make up this ancient granitic area bequeath a delicacy and elegance to the wines.
The yields are kept low by the climatic conditions; successive droughts over the years have forced the vines to develop deep root systems to search for water and mineral nourishment. Depending on the parcel the yields range from 5-25hl/ha. Purity is the watchword here; the first thing you notice is the freshness of the wines, and, dare one say, some pretty juicy fruit.
Frida is from 50% Grenache and 50% Carignan (80 year old vines) on shattered granite soils. The yields are a valiant 10 hl/ha (count those grapes) Viticulture is entirely organic. Grapes are destemmed and fermented at a low temperature on the wild yeasts for a month. No sulphur is added. Les Glaneuses is 70% Grenache and 30% Syrah from yields ranging between 5-15hl/ha (mad, I tell you, mad). Carbonic maceration for twenty days on the indigenous yeasts and no sulphur. Soif du Mal is made similarly except that it is a blend of Syrah 70% and Grenache 30%. If ever a wine tasted medicinal in a good sense then this paregoric potion fits the bill and hits the spot.
Real Wine Tasting at Il Bottaccio
Another year, another trade tasting. Not to mention a rabble-rousing Rabelasian feast thereafter. But more on that, anon.
This year we chose to hold our real wine event in Il Bottaccio, a swanky venue opposite Buckhouse gardens with high ceilings and chandeliers. “You’re becoming more bourgeois”, remarked one of our growers with a smile. Well, nice wines should be enjoyed in a nice environment with plenty of natural light and space to move around. Too many tastings are bun-fights: merchants shoehorning a huge number of wines and growers into a confined space and inviting all their customers to scramble amongst them on a single day. We also believe that every tasting should have a distinct theme and that our customers should have enough time to taste a strong cross-section of wines without pressure and be able to meet and talk to the growers.
I’ve talked about the philosophy of Real Wine elsewhere; in a nutshell we aim to promote growers who produce natural tasting wines with minimal interventions – these are, after all, the wines we enjoy drinking. The sensitivity and balance displayed in the vineyard and the winery inevitably informs the final product. People call our list eclectic; our selection of wines may be unusual and individual, but there is a consistent style or running theme – call it real, or natural, or pure, or simply expressive of time and place…
There were nearly forty growers present at the tasting, and although I was mainly positioned (marooned) behind a table featuring the diverse unrepresented organic offerings, I did manage to sneak off and taste most of the other wines. First port of call was the table manned by Luc de Conti and Pascal Verhaeghe; Luc’s Bergeracs in their golden leesy glory have attained an even higher standard – they are simultaneously sumptuous and savoury with the characteristic Muscadelle seasoning making them totally individual. Cont-ine Perigourdin, made from 100% Muscadelle à Petit Grains, reveals aromatic layers of dried fruits (apricot), butter, wild herbs and pepper. The 2007s in general are showing excellent texture and balance; Luc is sanguine that this is a great white vintage. His reds have supremely measured tannins and silky blue-and-black fruits. I tasted Pascal’s Chateau du Cèdre prestige 2005, a superb wine where all the components are singing in harmony. This Cahors has an impenetrable purple-ink colour and yields lifted aromas of sweet fig, ripe quince and plum with those secondary Malbec notes of fennel and pepper.
Pausing to refresh my palate with Jean-Bernard Larrieu’s super fresh Jurançons I tried the Vitatge Vielh de Lapeyre, a lively concoction of Gros Manseng, Petit Manseng and Courbu from sixty-odd year old vines. This nonpareil blend works brilliantly: the Gros Manseng confers coruscating grapefruit acidity, whilst the Petit Manseng, aged in new oak, brings mango, pineapple and a hint of vanilla, and the Courbu provides mouthfeel. I also bee-sipped the Vent Balaguer (made for friends and family), named after the eponymous warm autumn wind that funnels up from Spain helping to dehydrate the grapes which literally ‘raisin’ on the vine. The sweetest wines benefit from an added sugar boost by being left in trays (originally on straw mats) in the sun – ‘passerillage’. Harvesting is done mid November and the sweetest wines are not harvested until December. This extraordinary nectar is a rhapsodic expression of sweet fruits: mangoes, coconut, grapefruit and banana bound by crystal-pure acidity – the wine goes on and on in the mouth. The tasting note wrote itself: “Bravo!!”
Next to the Gassac table to sample anew their amazing baby white wine. Called Reserve de Gassac it is a fragrant, yet fresh blend of Viognier and Marsanne. We will only be receiving 1,800 bottles and I reckon we could sell this ten times over. The 2006 Mas de Daumas Gassac Rouge is forward with delicious fragrant cassis notes and ripe tannins, very different to the more structured 2005.
Ever since I stayed in the hamlet of Saint-Jean de Minervois I’ve had a tender spot for Clos du Gravillas. The wines have quirky names like “Sous les Cailloux des Grillons”, “Rendez-Vous du Soleil” and “Douce Providence”. Although the Muscat that gives its name to the appellation, it is Carignan that is king. It is most manifest in the pure Lo Vieilh, but appears variously in the blends mentioned above in conjunction with a variety of other grapes including Cabernet, Syrah, Counoise, Grenache and Mourvèdre. I personally love the white called L’Inattendu from Grenache Gris, a sort of rosé manqué that mutated into a rich oily lees-aged white, with a hint of oxidation. After a light pressing the must is chilled and allowed to settle naturally. Half of the juice is transferred to new barriques of Allier oak, whereupon it rests on the fine lees for a further twelve months. On one occasion I opened a bottle, drank three quarters and left it out of the fridge for two weeks. I popped the cork expecting to pour it down the sink, but the wine had not changed a jot. Whiffs of apple-skin, a nutty nuzzle of amontillado and an unexpected pop of caraway – a right savoury number.
Olivier Pithon’s whites and reds possess a nervous minerality and fine purity that mark them put from all other wines from Roussillon. Cuvée Lais, named after a cute Jersey cow, is a blend of Macabeu, Grenache Gris and Grenache Blanc grown on schist-scarped soils from yields as low as 15hl/ha. Mango, pink grapefruit and citrus arc across the palate allied to the hint of wild herbs within a yogurty texture. La “D 18”, named poetically after the little road that winds next to the tiny vineyard, has no Macabeu. The wines are raised in a mixture of new, one and two year old barrels as well as some demi-muids. “Grenaches particuliers pour Elevage particulier pour Reflexion Particulière pour Boisson particulière sur Route Particulière donc Plaisir particulier.” We think you’ll agree with those sentiments, particularly. Extraordinary wine – apples, almonds, and honeysuckle, slightly sherry aromas, on the palate notes of fennel, olive and dried fruit, mouth-filling and very long. A wine that remains on the palate and the memory for a long time or, in the words of Irving Berlin: “The song has ended but the melody lingers on”. A wine to be assimilated mouthful by meditative mouthful. La Coulée is an equal blend of Carignan and Grenache, a bonny soothing fruit-drenched red with singing acidity. Brilliant aromatic blend with notes of juniper and clove, sweet red and blackberries balanced by exuberant acidity and firm minerality. The inky-black, almost exotic Les Vignes de Saturne, now simply called Saturne, named after a Spanish republican called Saturne, who fled from Franco’s regime and ended up tending the vines, contains some Syrah as well as the traditionally low-yielding Carignan and Grenache. Grapes are macerated for 25-30 days and the juice is aged in a mixture of barriques and foudres for 14-18 months. Saturated purple colour, dense and powerful in the mouth with explosive black plums and sweet fig fruit, black spices, soy, grilled meat, huge tannins. Recommended for those of a carnivorous disposition: hare, young wild boar or saddle of lamb catalane-style. Olivier’s wines possess a purity that border on the intellectual.
Domaine des Foulards Rouge was a new agency that I was looking forward to tasting. Jean-François Nicq took over the domaine in 2002. It was then ten hectares and he planted a further two on beautiful schist and gneiss (very gneiss) slopes. In his first year he began the conversion to organic viticulture. In his previous job he vinified the wines at the co-op in the Cotes du Rhone (Estezargues) where he worked without sulphur and maintained this practice of natural winemaking at Foulards for his first vintage. The terroir is Les Albères in the Pyrenees-Orientales, 10km from the sea and Collioure, where the maritime influence brings the freshness that enables the wines to reach phenolic maturity without excessive alcohol. The nor-nor –east exposition of the vines compounds this character and finally the soils which make up this ancient granitic area bequeath a delicacy and elegance to the wines.
The yields are kept low by the climatic conditions; successive droughts over the years have forced the vines to develop deep root systems to search for water and mineral nourishment. Depending on the parcel the yields range from 5-25hl/ha. Purity is the watchword here; the first thing you notice is the freshness of the wines, and, dare one say, some pretty juicy fruit.
Frida is from 50% Grenache and 50% Carignan (80 year old vines) on shattered granite soils. The yields are a valiant 10 hl/ha (count those grapes) Viticulture is entirely organic. Grapes are destemmed and fermented at a low temperature on the wild yeasts for a month. No sulphur is added. Les Glaneuses is 70% Grenache and 30% Syrah from yields ranging between 5-15hl/ha (mad, I tell you, mad). Carbonic maceration for twenty days on the indigenous yeasts and no sulphur. Soif du Mal is made similarly except that it is a blend of Syrah 70% and Grenache 30%. If ever a wine tasted medicinal in a good sense then this paregoric potion fits the bill and hits the spot. The rosé, also disporting the Soif du Mal moniker, is sensational, all wild strawberries, liquorice, pepper and garrigue herbs.
Positioned on the lower slopes of the “Alpilles”, the soils of Mas Hauvette drain naturally and this together with the stony surface and a north-facing orientation ensures that the grapes have every chance to reach full maturity. The vines are cultivated organically and yield less than 30 Hl/ha. Destalking is followed by two to three weeks maceration, during which the grapes are trod daily. The wines then spend 24 months in oak vats or barrels, are fined with egg whites but not filtered.
Mas Hauvette Rouge is a seriously bosky infusion of Syrah, Cabernet Sauvignon and Grenache, but what gives the wines their superb individuality and elegant purity is an adherence to organic principles in the vineyard for qualitative reasons. The culture biologique involves spraying distillations of herbs instead of insecticides, ploughing back leaf cuttings to aerate the bauxite-rich soil. The wine is rich in natural aromas: the classic bouquet des garrigues of lavender, rosemary and thyme as well as more animal nuances of smoked beef and reduced gravy. The palate is gripping; like all great wines there seems to be something different in every mouthful.
And finally to Philippe Pacalet, who, looking like a cross between Leo Sayer and a 70’s footballer ,and literally twinkling with irony, is one of nature’s iconoclasts. He works seven hectares of rented vineyards, where organic work is done and focuses on making “terroir” wines, which means that all wines should be representative of their individual location and retain their own unique flavour signature. Thus the wine-making follows a non-interventionist code as it is conducted without sulphites, using the stems of the grapes, with natural yeasts during fermentation (which takes place in wooden vat for three to four weeks) and finally matured in (mainly used) barrels on the lees without racking. Pacalet says he makes wine like his grandfather did, but with “more consciousness”. As far as he is concerned he is a scientist and an artist, respecting nature by trying to understand its processes, identifying how best to liberate those raw materials that great terroir confers.
The 2006 village Gevrey-Chambertin is from limestone-rich, organically farmed vines and aged for sixteen months on the lees. It is fresh, fragrant and mineral with musky red and black fruits. The Gevrey 1er cru Belair from the same vintage has greater roundness and depth and an almost salty edge. Terrific length. These are beautiful harmonious wines, typically pretty and unadulterated with sexy-earthy notes.
The Nuits-Saint-Georges has compelling texture. Flavours of dark cherries abound, hints of grilled mushrooms, warm baby beets… yum. It is a substantial wine, yet light on its feet, virile, yet delicate.
The Chambolle-Musigny 1er cru is a delight and ticks all the boxes one might expect from this appellation being generous, elegant and rich with seductive fragrances reminiscent of amber, rose, violet, mignonette and fur. Philippe says this wine is all about easy virtue. Actually, his comments are more sexually graphic, but we will pass lightly over. The Ruchottes-Chambertin (total production 900 bottles, so I’m afraid it’s bottle allocation only) has fine mineral precision and exotic notes of wild flowers, red berries and sandalwood.
Pacalet is wont to describe some of his wines as “Cistercian”, characterised by monkish austerity and restraint! Tasting across the range of the reds you will discern some common features; they share this luminous purity and are beautifully aromatic as well as being light and graceful, rarely tannic, and never buried in new oak. Burg-yumdy!
Gastronomie domine
REAL FOOD DINNER – South West Cuisine de Terroir by Michel Dussau
“Everybody’s got a hungry heart”.
Bruce Springsteen
Cometh the hour, cometh the chef and his massed battalions of ducks. Our Real-Plete Food-and-Wine Dinner was a cartoon of Hogarthian excess juggling hilarious generosity with the swaggering exposition of the artisan’s art.
If cooking be the food of love, feast on all that jazz, so that when my appetite withers or dies or just plain explodes I may have a spare one for the fine commission of eating, for, in the language of Runyon, I do love to commit eating. This repast was truly the food of love and the love of food, a gargantuan, bear-like love smothered in goose-fat.
The simplicity of the meal was that it adopted a few ingredients and riffed royally on them. Diverse duck and pork dishes were variations upon a theme of innards and outtards – the ingredients were respected and re-respected - nothing was wasted, the homespun cuisine de terroir that Michel is renowned for in his restaurant in Moissac, La Table d’Armandie.
A tureen is placed on the table with a garbure that has been simmering for around eight hours. It is a broth-light amalgam of duck and pork with cabbage, beans, carrots and turnip, bay, chervil and parsley: surely Le vrai Garbure Béarnaise though no doubt our heroic chef would be cuffed as a presumptuous whippersnapper by legions of granite-faced grandmères who would implicitly know that their family recipe steeped in the sweat of peasant tradition was the holiest of the holy, and this version was but a vision modern. Beautiful, subtle, almost sacramental, nevertheless, you wouldn’t say nuts to this soup.
And so it (the cascade of food) began. Pure autogavage - kerblam! – slabs of foie gras like marble liver served with stuffed prunes (with fat and butter!), a pièce that brooked no resistance. After that artery-damming interlude, a deliciously refreshing Marinade de Légumes, Gambas et Magret Fumé containing some baby broad beans and new season’s peas interspersed with prawns and the obligatory shredded smoked duck dressed with lemon juice, the veriest, humblest squawk of surf ‘n’ turf (if duck can be considered a turfivore!)
Next was a big sweet Piquillo pepper gravid with creamy morue, an innocent-looking but very filling salt-fish (eel and potato) grenade and a classic Basque favourite. As Dame Vera sang: Eel meat again? Small observation: the words “farci” and L’estofi” in several dishes provided a continuous ironic menu commentary on our ordeal by feast.
Whereupon, on a silver platter, appeared a bigger gun, a Herculean sausage roll, a crusty pastry log encasing some dense and highly seasoned pork meat. Called Tourte Campagnarde en feuillletée it sounded like a legal charge. “You have been accused of Tourte Campagnarde en feuillletée – how do you plead? I was tempted to ask at this stage if several similar gluttonous gastronomic offences could be taken into account. One had to admit that this meat was just and I gloomily accepted seconds. The solitary mizuna leaf was a thoughtful aid to digestion.
Thus endeth the starters (?) and the first lock on our alimentary canals was closed. The kitchen decided to move up a gear and unleashed a heavy duty artillery of woofers and tweeters. First out of the traps and into our traps was Camagnon de Porc Braiséaux Epices, a slow-cooked lump, rump, chump of pork plumped on a bed of spiced lentils. The evening becomes hazy at this point as the heavy infusion of wine was beginning to take its toll but I dimly recall slithery Tripoux a l’Aveyronnaise , a speciality of Rouergue and Aubrac, which made no concession to more delicate sensibilities, some nubbly ducks’ hearts and the wonderfully named Lou Magret aux Pruneaux – tender and beautifully pink breast thereof – Mr Lou Duck take a bow.
A meal such as this can be a like a spiritual vortex if you don’t approach it in the right frame of mind. You can become so full that you are empty. The “gut-guilt” that compels us to leave large quantities of food behind (or bolt it without truly savouring) runs counter to the notion of lovingly cooked Slow Food. One should make time to take time, as the French aptly put it. A beautiful banquet prepared by Michel Dussau is not just fuel or fodder, it involves amazing transformations; it is about being at the end of the food chain, whilst appreciating the rest of the links within it. This food originates in and embodies the spirit of the south west. You can taste the bold terroir. Prepared slowly, with massive care and attention, no short cuts are taken, the flavours are maximised and the truth of ingredients is respected. I took a deep breath for the Toulouse cassoulet, a dish, which when done properly, quite simply, makes me misty with pleasure. It’s pure comfort food, devoured with ritualistic gusto, the crust, the gluey beans, the nuggets of pork or bacon, the richness of the confit and finally the reward of the sausage. I see cassoulet as one of the supreme symbols of French peasant gastronomy – all the various ingredients come together in one pot and meld just as people do over a dinner table as the wine and conversation inexorably flows.
I can only repeat what I have written elsewhere: “Lamb, veal, pork and game, ducks and geese, chicken and guinea fowl, truffles, cepes and mushrooms, chestnuts and cheeses, prunes and plums endless variants, here a Catalan influence, there a Languedocian note, the terroirs of Landes, the Dordogne and Quercy all yielding their diverse signatures. Writing in generalities can’t do justice to the regional vitality, the sheer diversity of the cuisine of the area that we call South West France. Moreover, every recipe is a kind of history in itself and every family has its story to tell about the way it should be cooked. It would be a mistake nevertheless to assert that things stand still. As recipes are handed on, subtle refinements are made, sturdiness may be replaced by lightness, but the cuisine de terroir always remains close to the earth – each dish invariably constructed around the strength of local ingredients. In the South West food and cooking is that most tangible and sensuous necessity of people’s lives, writes Paula Wolfert. We believe that to appreciate fully the wines of the South West you must also experience the food and that the pleasure you take in the one nurtures a desire for the other.”
Thank you Michel Dussau, thank you wine growers who were at the dinner and provided the wines, thank you guests for being there to enjoy the food.
To see the full menu
The Price Is Wrong
Many’s the time I’ve been enjoined, like the sullen and notched scrivener like that I am, to pick up my goose quill and etch - with quivering hand - my picaresque adventures in the wine trade. It would be a tale and a half told by an idiot full of the sound of carousing and the fury of eating. Never was a business so evidently bathed in such comity surely, in ostentatious revelry – here were funds of jolly anecdotes and much as I would like to recount “Five Go Mad In Madiran” (I will, I will) I have to admit that business is business and that the prosaic financial scrunch gnaws many dreary hours of my day as I seem to be forever entangled in number-juggling shenanigans with beady-eyed bean-counters.
It’s been a traumatic couple of months. We’ve all been using our powers of ratiocination at Les Caves to make our restaurant customers appreciate why their prices have had to increase dramatically.
Why is it so difficult to understand? I can teach simple maths by analogy to a toddler but I can’t make some restaurateurs and food and beverage managers comprehend that when the pound in their pocket depreciates then the price of wine (or any goods shipped from abroad) must go up. And that when there are shortages of wine or increased demand then prices also go up. That when fuel prices and the price of raw materials increases then prices go up. That when we have inflationary pressures in our economy then prices go up.
It’s the fragile economy, stupid, or in this case, mainly the exchange rate, dumbo. Last year the pound was batting at 1.47 against the euro, now it’s taking a bath at 1.25 and possibly headin’ southwards towards oblivion. That is a huge differential to absorb and, if you bring out one price list a year, as we do, you experience the full damage when all the rises are simultaneously aggregated. We deal with several restaurants (and hotel banqueting lists) who expect their prices to set in stone for an arbitrary twelve-month period, regardless of the vagaries of vintage and exchange rate or fluctuation in the broader national and international economy. Whilst for years we’ve been able to implement such arrangements because of price stability, this is a fantasy world where nothing changes and where suppliers’ terms and conditions can be flagrantly ignored. No merchant can make absolute guarantees in this current febrile climate. Some of our customers, however, are so adamant in their opposition to prices being raised (by a single penny, I kid you not) that they actually expect us to sell the wine for a loss. They argue that a contract was entered into and that guarantees are inviolable guarantees, but this convenient logic ignores their own breaking of part of the agreement, in that they do not strictly adhere to the terms of the contract themselves (payment by 30 days of invoice). I am curious to know, moreover, how far the pound would have to plunge against other currencies for these recalcitrant f & b bods to acknowledge that the situation had shifted sufficiently to warrant negotiations.
Every year wine merchants battle the growers for zero price increases. It is not a pleasant task, because we are asking artisans (in our case), people who farm through thick and thin, whose livelihoods depend on an equitable market price, to consider the fruits of their labour purely in terms of realistic price points for bean-counters in the UK who can see no further than a gross (the word is used advisedly) profit margins. It intrigues me that people who create nothing will haggle about a few pennies as if the entire horizon of their existence should be shrunk to the single price point; that they will cajole, threaten and bully for pennies on the same day as international disasters take place. This has happened recently to me and I have felt degraded by the process. Instead of listening to this ludicrous claptrap I should be sending my thoughts, prayers, best wishes, money elsewhere. I feel like asking: have you no sense of proportion, or tiny jot of humility or does your job description preclude empathy?
Maybe there is no room for sentiment in the business world? I don’t see how you can divorce economics from ethics. Lack of consideration, lack of flexibility, lack of understanding is responsible for the perpetuation of bad business practice. I believe that job-swapping should be mandatory. Flip each situation on its head; experience the reality from the opposite point of view. Every f & b manager should be compelled to do a stage in a winery and then for a wine merchant in order to understand the ramifications of every decision they make.
These are a tiny proportion of clients, the ones who have no love and even less understanding of the food and wine business. Business is not about numbers and number-crunching; it is about people, relationships, and partnerships. The most successful restaurants are wedded to quality and understand the product that they are delivering; they know the price of everything they sell, and they also know its value.
Hannah’s Blog - The Unkindest Haircut
Tuesday 1st April
I went to what looked like a Japanese-themed hairdressing salon in Alba as it was high time for a trim. I opened the door which hit something with a loud bang. The next second I saw something come flying towards me and much to the amusement of Christian and the salon staff I ducked and covered my head. It was the pendulum of a door chime… I thought that the pendulum was supposed to skim the top of the door not give the customers a heart-attack! I was made to put on a paper kimono (how ridiculous did I look!) and I asked for a trim keeping the same style. The woman washed my hair, set about cutting it and blow-dried it straight which only took less than 30 minutes (the shortest time spent in a hair salon in my adult life!). She only cut the ends like my mother used to in the family bathroom when I was a young girl. She didn’t bother to trim and style the layers! I could’ve done it myself or even asked Christian to do it! It was the worst hair-cut in my life and I now doubt that she ever went to a hairdressing college – I should’ve checked the walls for certificates before sitting down for the chop! At least in the UK you can trust that your local good-value hairdresser can do a half-decent cut! I was happy at the prospect of going to the hairdressers because that evening we were going out for dinner and I wanted to look nice with my hair down and straightened. I was so upset with the result that I wanted to cry so once I got home I jumped in the shower and scraped my hair back once again before heading to the restaurant.
It was certainly April Fools’ Day for me!
Early hours of Thursday 3rd April – Monday 7th April
My boss had this wonderful idea to drive me and a friend of his to Verona, to represent his wines at the Vinitaly fair, in the middle of the night. We went to bed at 3am then had to get up early to have our stand set up ready for 9am to serve wine and network all day until gone 6.30pm. Needless to say that the lack of sleep the first day affected us for the rest of the fair.
As the fair went on, I got to know who were the tourists just there to get drunk and who were the serious potential new importers or restaurateurs. On the Saturday (the busiest day), a couple of young Italian girls obviously from down South propped themselves up on our stand and requested to taste this that and the other asking each time if it was a wine sweeter than the previous one that they had tasted. We became their wine bar (damn my boss for making 12 wines!)… By the third time of telling them that all our red wines are dry red wines (it’s Barolo for Christ’s sake!), I dragged my team-mate outside, while my boss was busy with clients, for a “cigarette break” hoping that the silly moos would move on! It worked.
It was dangerous when the boys left me on the stand on my own and they found it funny – I was inundated mostly by males wanting to taste our wines, or should I say “taste” our wines… If you’re going to flirt with someone behind a wine stand, at least know what you’re blimming well talking about! There’s no worse turn-off than a guy babbling bullshit. I’m no expert in wine but at least I know the basics and a bit and if I don’t know anything I keep my dignity by keeping my mouth shut.
Thursday 10th April
I’ve been running a few errands for the hotel now so I’ve been driving a fair bit in Alba (for now – I may progress to driving in Rome a bit later on in life) and getting used to driving a left-hand drive and being on the “wrong” side of the road. After reading in the Italian newspapers recently about the deaths of pedestrians being hit on zebra crossings I’ve noticed that the Italian pedestrians do indeed trust their native drivers for they simply step onto a zebra crossing without looking, expecting their people to stop for them! In the UK, it wouldn’t (usually) be a problem. I don’t even trust Italians if they indicate (such a rare sight!) for the direction in which they intend to go! To anyone coming to visit Italy, I would say NEVER TRUST ITALIAN DRIVERS!
Wednesday 23rd April
I drove my mother and my sister Karina to the airport in Genoa after they visited for a few days. We were close to the city when we came to a complete standstill as there was an accident that resulted in the road being closed up ahead. Punching “alternative route” into the navigator was useless as we weren’t going anywhere so we eventually turned off the engine. A short while later a rather cute-looking guy from the car behind us came to ask if I could squeeze through the gap between a lorry and a car in the neighboring lane so that he could follow me through and reverse back up the hard shoulder of the motorway alongside the idle traffic to the previous exit that we had passed because he had a plane to catch and needed to take an alternative route. By this time the three of us were all ga-ga over him and said that we were also late for a plane. So, Italian-style, I squeezed through the very tight gap and then let cute guy go ahead of me to reverse back up the motorway so that we could follow him to the airport. We got there in the nick of time. Phew!
I punched “home” into the navigator. It was supposed to take me one hour and three quarters to get home from Genoa airport but the flipping navigator sent me on a wild goose chase on the way home! You see an arrow pointing to the road that you believe the navigator is pointing at but it actually wanted you to take the other road! I strongly recommend that you know the names of the major cities around the towns that you’re travelling from and to before setting out on a journey because I’ve learned that you cannot trust a navigator. I should’ve taken the map that my mother offered to let me have for the way home… It took me 2 and half hours to get home and I drove Italian-style because I was so annoyed, so no indicating, driving at a million miles an hour (or should I say kilometres an hour) and no care for speed cameras. I’m sure that when I next drive in the UK when visiting, I will have forgotten how to drive properly and will be a “mascot” for Italy!
Next time, I’ll pop my guests on a train back to the city from which they’re flying. Anyway, it seems quicker by train in this country because the roads take you around this mountain and that. I know that in the UK to some places it’s quicker by car than by train!
Saturday 26th May
My worst nightmare has begun – again! It’s that time of year when the bees and wasps have started to hum and buzz. I believe that my ex-colleagues will remember some incidents in the office where I have run and closed myself in the meeting room annexed to the office… For many years, my father has told me to stop being a silly girl and sit still if the stinging things come near me. Sorry but I’ve done enough minding my own business over the years and the bastards have stung me for no reason! So if they come anywhere near me, I high-tail it out of the “dangerous zone” with arms flailing – it always works.
Profiteers of the Open Market
Let’s kill all the lawyers, said Dick the Butcher in Henry VI (Part 2 since you ask). I have a better wheeze: Let’s marginalise all the f & b drones whose fantastical margins are the product of a rip-off culture - they are only even-handed in that they cheat their customers and suppliers with equal insolence…
“It is impossible to calculate the moral mischief, if I may so express it, that mental lying has produced in society. When a man has so far corrupted and prostituted the chastity of his mind as to subscribe his professional belief to things he does not believe he has prepared himself for the commission of every other crime”. ~Thomas Paine, The Age of Reason
It was Saul Bellow who coined the phrase The Moronic Inferno to refer to the stupidity and venality of certain cultures. In business one encounters wide boys and girls, charlatans and an assortment of parasitical folk who believe implicitly in the sanctity of profit margins above all else. Business may be projected on models; but models still have to be applied to the real world, a world that includes human beings and the environment, a world which therefore defies simplistic mapping. What is inevitable is that certain decisions made by food and beverage managers can have a resounding critical impact. In the wine trade if you cheat your wine rep, you automatically cheat everyone who works for his/her company, and you cheat the growers who depend on that business. All for the want of a few pennies.
Behaving in an aggressively negative fashion fosters bad will and the expectation that all future business will be transacted without trust and without notion of compromise. No-one hired a food and beverage manager for their intelligence or empathy, but rather for their blank determination to achieve profit margins. What a narrow job description that dictates that price must forever precede quality. Commercial savvy can, by all means, have an ethical dimension, economic actions have moral as well as physical consequences. Those who cut corners, are meretricious and greedy and build their empire by threats and cheating usually reap their karmic reward. The following observation says it all:
If you attempt to beat a man down and to get his goods for less than a fair price, you are attempting to commit burglary, as much as though you broke into his shop to take the things without paying for them. There is cheating on both sides of the counter and generally less behind it than before it.
Henry Ward Beecher
Personal Taste or Lack of Education
A much discussed topic within the trade, brands, homogenisation of the end users palate, fiddling in the winery to fit a ‘universal style’ – we, the lucky ones, in the trade and especially with Les Caves, eschew these dreary examples and tell all and sundry that they are disgusting drinks conveniently labelled as ‘wine’.
The truth is these creations do account for a large chunk of sales within this islands shores, I believe, and hope, largely due to B.O.G.O.F.’s and the fact they are mostly innoffensive to nearly every palate.
I have on many occasions turned up at a friends house sporting the latest oddity that this company champions, brimming with enthusiasm and passion, be it the latest Braucol from Gaillac or Mansois from Marcillac or even a Saperavi / Dzelshavi from Georgia, only to have people spit them out with varying looks from disgust to sheer panic on their faces. I cajole, inform, explain and on the odd occasion lie to try and get them to understand where I am coming from, only to watch in horror as they head back to their latest vinous find of a new blend from Kumala or Gallo.
Wine sales in the UK go up every year which shows that in this society many people are discovering the joys of drinking wine, but unfortunately are fooled into believing that the major brands are a true expression of what wine is, and once they have found these wines, everything else is compared to them - the perfectly soft, rounded, characterless example being the one in question.
I have had many discussions with all manner of people on this subject over the years and I feel I am going to have to stand up and defend these insipid, boring potages.
There are a huge number of people who actively enjoy theses wines, and who am I to say that they are wrong, I do not criticise someone for liking Toulouse Lautrec rather than Dali, or for listening to The Pet Shop Boys as opposed to Mozart. At the end of the day personal taste reigns supreme – I may not like it but I must accept it.
I would just like to thank Messrs Narioo, Wregg, Scholes and Lubac for giving me the opportunity to embrace the wonderful, fascinating, diverse world of wine that is out there, and make up my own mind by getting to try a reasonably large chunk of it.
Scents and sensuality - matching wines to perfume
It’s a sensory truth universally acknowledged that our sense of smell is closely connected by a series of neural pathways to that section of our brain that holds and processes memories. When experiencing wine we rarely give ourselves full license to explore the emotional and intuitive nuances of what we smell and taste, as we are too busy analysing the “mechanics of flavour”, deconstructing all the aromatic properties– in a reductive fashion, as it were.
Matching the subtleties of Lyn Harris’s fragrances to wine was an intriguing challenge. I learned that there are perfumes to match skin and hair colour, perfumes for a certain time of day (for example, morning- or -evening-wear), for certain activities, for moods and environments (to wear at work or for relaxation), perfumes created to evoke a sense of place (such as pine forests in Provence or a village in Brittany), or to remind us of special occasions, or to recreate certain images and even to conjure the notion of a particular period in time. As wine is matched to food so perfume may be matched to personality and mood. But wine takes us on its own sensory adventure if we allow our imagination free rein.
Perfumes reflect the art of blending natural elements and smells and discovering a position for each aromatic nuance in the whole. Making wine is also about the art of interpreting nature or allowing the elemental components that shaped the wine to speak clearly. Lyn’s natural approach to perfumes is articulated in her philosophy: ‘Fragrance is as old as the earth. The evening scent of flowers, the woodland odours of plants and roots, the headiness of ripe fruits, the bouquet of wild herbs, the trace of pollen on the wind. Such things are my inspiration for, though they stir the senses, they are redolent of something deeper, harmony and inner peace.’
The foundation stone of the Miller Harris brand is precious ingredients. Lyn’s unique style comes from her dedication to fragrance. She is unrepentant in her search for new materials, sourcing the best from around the world: iris from Florence, violet leaf from France, jasmine from Egypt, orange flower from Tunisia and sandalwood from the Pacific.
All the fragrances used are the highest quality naturals available which give the soul and essence to all the Miller Harris scents. With these precious notes in her possession her aim is always to preserve their delicacy so that they work in harmony creating works of art.
The grape variety is the primary signature of the wine. Some varieties are extremely aromatic: Sauvignon, Viognier and Gewurztraminer, for example, whilst others more understated and insinuating – Gruner Veltliner and Roussanne, for example. Some grapes tend to stand alone, others are invariably blended. The quality of grapes harvested determines the aromatic quality of the wine. Vinification and the choices made during vinification also imbue the wine with flavour (different strains of yeast, temperature of fermentation, use of sulphur, the shape and quality of the vessel itself), thereafter the maturation of the wine plays a part. Oak barrels lend another layer of flavour (different types of wood and ratios of new and old further determine the style of the wine). Then there is the matter of oxygen transfer during the maturation and finally the effect of age on the wine. The making of wine involves a succession of transformations, but sometimes the greatest alchemy is a non-interventionist approach which allows the various inherent components of the wine to merge in their own time.
The main difference between the perfumier and real (or natural) winemaker is that the former will seek to create a complex, vivid aromatic profile, whereas the winemaker may simply be content to reflect the nature of the harvest and allow an internal harmonisation to take place. The perfumier is thus notionally more of an artist, whereas the winemaker or vigneron, is perhaps part artisan grower and part artist.
Evaluating what one tastes and smells is often subverted by one’s preferences and prejudices. As I spent virtually all my childhood holidays by the sea and in northern climes I am particularly attuned to cool, salty aromas. They unlock my particular doors of perception and get me whiffling like a bloodhound for the scent. I am not, however, so sensitive to luscious, almost tropical aromas – I feel swamped by the headiness of their perfumes. It is the same with wine, I prefer edgy, nervous, lean white wines and I like my reds to have a savoury, umami moreishness.
I sniffed all the following perfumes for this exercise over a period of two hours. Having a totally untrained nose I tended to focus on the boldest or most obvious elements and hoping that the fog would clear and reveal the other constituent scents one by one. You can’t strain – you either get it or you don’t; as with wine too much sniffing leads to adaptation and consequent obfuscation – so the nose becomes tired and blocks the endeavour.
Below are my brief uneducated “smelling notes” followed by the Miller Harris description of the history and raison d’etre for each perfume and then one or two wine suggestions based partly on logic and largely on intuition.
MILLER HARRIS PERFUMES with wine suggestions
Citron, Citron
Citrus fragrance, ethereal, grapefruit zest, minty-herbal freshness. I like the easy interplay between citrus and herbal leaf. Light yet persistent, sophisticated, quintessentially elegant this refreshing sorbet amongst fragrances brings to mind the palate-cleansing-and-revivifying acidity of a springy Riesling. An Albarino from Rias Baixas would provide similar zest for the best.
Oberhauser Leistenberg Riesling Kabinett, Helmut Donnhoff – a pure, terrifically fragrant style of Riesling, light (in alcohol) yet subtle with lovely length. Beautiful crispness – this would make an excellent aperitif,
Coeur de Fleur
Quite a “girly” perfume, both delicate and floral. Freesias & sweetpeas, sweet raspberries and ripe cherries. Fun and fresh and definitely summery. This suggests to me a perky, pink wine with pleasing acidity, something ripe and fruity but not too serious – probably a rosé from the Loire…
Sancerre Les Baronnes Rosé, Domaine Henri Bourgeois - Very pretty oeil-de-perdrix hue, delicate notes of jasmine, cherry-blossom and rose, bitter cherry fruit on the palate. The floral & fruity components of this wine should perfectly complement the perfume.
Tangerine vert
Extremely appealing perfume. Delicious, fun, fruity. Refreshing. Sweet citrus aromas leap out especially grapefruit, tangerine, muscat grape and “with marjoram and geranium, some weight is given to these scents with a base of cedar, moss and sweet musk”. You would wear this any time of day to give you a lift, particularly in the summer. I was instantly reminded of the all-purpose gluggability of a good Moscato d’Asti. This is a wine that puts a smile on people’s face; its musky sweetness is offset by the tangy grapiness.
Moscato d’Asti, Vittoria Bera – biodynamic, sparkling, sweet white from 80 year old vines, redolent of freshly crushed muscat grapes and a brilliant hint of mintiness. (Wild mint abounds in the vineyards which are a testament to the benefits of biodiversity). This is great as an aperitif or with a bowl of best strawberries. It is the frothy, frivolious essence of midsummer in a glass
Geranium Bourbon
“Deep and rosy, a blend of cassis berries, lemon geranium and Turkish Rose – the scents of an English garden after the rain.” A subtle fragrance, one that you keep coming back to its light floral and curranty fruit it reminds me of a top quality Loire Sauvignon especially those examples of Sancerre that have an extra element of minerality to lift them above the level of the mere grape variety.
Sancerre Le MD de Bourgeois. The MD from the so-called damned slopes above Chavignol is both precise and elusive. The soils are Kimmeridgean Marl (fossilised sea shells) and the grapes, which are harvested by hand, eventually make a wine of great purity and intensity, which continues to develop after a few years in the bottle. The scent of the English garden after the rain has delicious connotations of shy buds bursting, the air still damp with the memories of a cooling shower. The Sancerre captures this tension adroitly.
My second choice picks out more of the discrete notes of the Geranium Bourbon although it lacks the sheer focus of the Sancerre. Suggestive of cassis, rosehips and red flowers the Mas de Daumas Gassac Rosé Frizant is a gently sparkling rose made from 100% young Cabernet Sauvignon vines. As you stand in the glorious Gassac valley under the cooling air of the Terrasses de Larzac you are surrounded by a green sea of garrigue forest – it is refreshing to look at and to be amongst and to enjoy the contrast between heat of the Mediterranean and the relative coolness of this remarkable micro-climate where smells are that much more intense.
Jasmin vert
Elegant & floral redolent of violets, daffodil, jasmine, citrus, mandarin – subtle and fugitive, the smell of early evening when the heat of the day is cooling down. “It is made up of summer flowers and fruits, violet leaf, daffodil, jasmin sambac with mandarin, grapefruit and pear. This is the South of France in a bottle and its sophistication lies in the fact that the jasmin is blended making it difficult to pin down to one flower.” I didn’t nail the southern French intimations and was transported instead to the clover and meadow-blossom scented meadows of the Alps where the warmth of the day is trapped in the valleys and the last scents recede… bleep – time out – pretentious quotient overflows. This illustrates how easily smell can take you on a long journey and how one association leads to another. It’s a kind of freeform music.
Les Cretes Petite Arvine, Val d’Aosta – floral and citrus-infused wine with mountain clarity made from the Alpine Petite Arvine variety. It has vibrancy and lift and subtle insinuations that make you taste something different in every glass
Noix de Tuberose
Exotic, sensuous, oriental-toned perfume – mimosa, wild green clover and violet, powerful yet pure – feminine and modern. “It remains an intimidating, headstrong and powerful fragrance, a great signature scent for the modern, urban woman.” This perfume has bold femininity; I enjoyed its striking impact, but I think I might tire of its statement if it was worn every day in my presence. It reminded me instantly of a great Gewurztraminer, not the Yardley’s sweet-talc scented cheap take on this grape but the superior lingering versions from Alsace and the Sud-Tyrol (the spiritual home of the Traminer grape)
Rose-inflected perfumes and Gewurztraminer are an obvious match. One doesn’t want the wine to be oily so I have suggested a striking (biodynamic) wines from the Dolomites. Gewurztraminer, Peter Pliger, Alto-Adige , is a wine of character, strength and beauty. It has a lovely bouquet of dried fruits, nutmeg and sweet spice and is rich and viscous. It will match a wide range of food: from lobster and crayfish to foie gras, gratin dishes and smoked cheese.
Fleur du Matin
Green, fresh and floral – lemon thyme, morning garrigue herbs and spices. “Fleur du Matin is a clean, green, fresh and easy fragrance. This is ideal to travel with, when you arrive somewhere tired and need a spritz of something to revitalize. Inspired by the dew and floral/herbal scent of an early morning walk on the island of Porquerolles, it makes a fabulous scent for the spring and summer. It is a blend of the natural scents of the Provençal coast; pine, marjoram, honeysuckle and neroli with lemon and basil.” I enjoyed this scent; it had a pick-me-up-and-relax-you’re-on-holiday-feel about it. I return to the sea of garrigue that is the Gassac valley with the cool mill-stream chuckling through the winery, the soothing green that stretches to the horizon. In the immediate vicinity clumps of wild herbs whose delicate perfumes waft into your arched nostrils. The heat is a cool, refreshing heat. In this remarkable micro-climate Mas de Daumas Gassac make a world class white wine, a veritable lexicon of different grape varieties (14, 18, more – who knows) all blended together.
Mas de Daumas Gassac Blanc, Languedoc- refreshing, subtle, garrigue inflected white featuring myriad grape varieties but majoring on the following four: Viognier (for notes of honeysuckle and pollen), Manseng (for acidity and mineral focus), Chardonnay (for creamy mid-palate) and Chenin (for mouthfeel and waxy apple-and-pear fruit). Everything melds subtly and serenely.
Fleur de Sel
Green notes, savoury, salty – rosemary, sage, floral and herbal notes with leather and cut grass. Complex and sophisticated aromas. “Fleurs de Sel is a deeply sensual and earthy fragrance, with an interesting air of leather adding the final note to this masterpiece. It is a personal interpretation of a small village in Brittany called Batz sur Mer where Lyn Harris has a family home and has spent some of her happiest times. Earthy top notes of red thyme oil, rosemary and clary sage are bound with wild flowers of iris nobilis, narcisse flowers, rose and a hint of ambrette seed, finally blending them on a base of woods, vetiver grass and moss with a note of leather.”
I found this perfume particularly interesting as evidently it is intended to evoke a memory of a particular time in childhood and is very specific to place. The magical subtlety of this fragrance resists simple sensory replication. I thought that the salted damson-skin notes of a Dao or a bristling briny red wine from Galicia would fit the bill, but then I went back to the sea salt-and-green herb notes of Muscadet. The particular Muscadet I would choose is way more concentrated than the norm. The vines grow on poor schistous soils and the grape juice receives a lengthy process of batonnage (lees-stirring) which enriches and nourishes the wine, giving it fantastic aromas and great texture in the mouth. Muscadet sur lie Le Clos de Noelles, Pierre Luneau is an example of cru communale, a wine with the specificity of terroir allied to intensive flavour extraction. A further alternative I considered was the Terras Gauda O Rosal which exhibits white flowers and green plums on the nose and fills out on the palate with fresh grape and apple compote flavours as well as peach kernel. Galicia, like Brittany, has a Celtic heritage; it faces the Atlantic weather foursquare, the countryside is green, forested, damp and mossy – and beautiful in a rugged way.
Piment des Baies
Enormous fun, quite exotic, interfused aromas of ripe berries, zest and pepper. Bergamot flower, jasmine. Really clean. Male or female perfume equally. “Piment des Baies is another one of the Miller Harris fragrances blended for men and like the others taken up by many women too. It is a scent with Caribbean connotations with its notes of pepper and pimento berries brought together with santal Pacifique, orris beurre and bergamot. It is fresh to begin with and then quite wild, like the Caribbean. Think of Noel Coward and the Jamaica Inn; it is a sophisticated and deep fragrance. Once you catch the first sniff of it you just want to keep smelling it.”
I was looking here for a white wine primarily that had creamy layers of flavours with exotic scents trapped within.
Greco di Tufo, Vadiaperti, Campania –Smelling of orange blossom, with balsamic and mineral and secondary aromas of acacia honey this Greco has sophistication being bright (lovely balanced acidity) and deep with a sweeping texture. Bandol Rosé, Domaine La Suffrene – A more masculine style of rosé with strong component of Mourvèdre. Notes of jasmine and fennel, tobacco leaf and griotte cherries.
Figue Amère
Salty green figs. Refreshing summer fragrance. Hints of pine and cedarwood. “Inspired during a trip to Ibiza with the scent of bitter ripe green figs being swept up by the astringent salt on the sea air, it is blended with green violet, amber and cedar. This is a great scent to wear throughout the year but particularly good in the winter as a reminder of the heat”.
I like this perfume; it reminds me of eating figs off the trees in a vineyard in Tuscany; it was a hot day but at 4.00pm a gentle breeze struck up and refreshed the landscape.
Alture Sauvignon, Maremma, Antonio Camillo –A wine I drank in the vineyard under a white canopy on a hot day eating ripe figs at 600m above the sea level. The soil is hard volcanic rock composed of compacted volcanic ash. Grapes are hand-picked and placed in small crates, de-stemmed and left to soak for 16 hours at 5-6 degrees before fermentation (only with indigenous yeast). After fermentation the wine spends six months in stainless steel. This is a lovely balanced Sauvignon with a clean, fresh nose and gentle notes of figs, pink grapefruit and peach. Mineral and crisp to boot. Does the world need a Tuscan Sauvignon? Do I need to ask rhetorical questions? The tongue, requited with freshness, answers “yes”.
Eau de vert
Pine, lavender and geranium. Quite Provençal… Perfumes are associative and this reminds me of the Cote d’Azur, the smell of pine forest interspersed with fugitive floral scents. “Eau de Vert is a classic fougère, made up of the mountain herbs, pine, lavender, juniper and artemesia, that are so abundant in the South of France. Blended with these herbs are rose and geranium notes with a lot of moss, musk and vetiver. This scent is inspired by the chic man with the slicked-back hair of the 1950’s South of France.” I can almost taste the picture – the azure skies with a pinkish tinge, the scent of pine needles mingled with wild herbs and flowers. Provence is the spiritual home of pink wine producing pale or pearly-pink wines scented with wild flowers, fennel and herbs and often as dry as the rocks from which the vines spring. Nor are the wines, except for powerful, menthol-intense wines of Bandol, particularly alcoholic; their delicacy makes them a pleasure to quaff uncritically, but also provides excellent accompaniment to oily fish such as mullet, sardines and is a dream with saffron-drenched, garlic-heavy fish soups and works equally well with stuffed aubergines, courgettes and tomatoes.
Domaine de Tamary rosé, Cuvée Elegance, Cotes de Provence has delicate medium-bodied palate with spicy cherry-stone fruit to the fore, hints of herbs in the background and a clean, persistent finish. Chilled Pastis Lou Garagai, Janot. When most people think of Pastis, they think of Pernod. They are mistaken. A true Pastis must be made by macerating a secret selection of herbs and spices in a neutral alcohol base. Pernod is an anise-flavoured spirit that is created by distilling the ingredients, not macerating them. Both were created after the banning of absinthe in Europe by 1915. Today, Pastis is synonymous with the south of France, particularly Provence. Even if you haven’t been there, you can still imagine sitting on a sun-bleached promenade with a glass filled with one part Pastis and five parts chilled water. Serving this classic drink involves ritual.
Terre d’Iris
Elegant and sophisticated. Red flowers, wild rose, bergamot, hint of spice. Very feminine (and subtle) “Terre d’Iris is a sophisticated and edgy scent. It is a light chypre which refers to the fragrance family it belongs to: a blend of bergamot, rose and iris, all mossy and earthy notes.
This scent is inspired by the heat, citrus, moss, pine and sea air of the Cote d’Azur. “
I found this a more problematic match as I was looking for a delicate red that would women might find appealing and sophisticated. Certain Provençale reds have this quality (the wines of Cassis, for example), but I tentatively settled for a wine that displayed fine purity with a fragrant earthiness, namely Jean-Claude Lapalu’s Brouilly vieilles vignes. This organic red with his probing minerality combines notes of red flowers, pepper and mineral. It is a wine with a steeliness behind its prettiness and then, when you get to know it, a prettiness behind that steeliness!
Coeur d’Eté
White flowers, tropical fruit and cocoa, soothing, balm-like. Feminine perfume. “Coeur d’été is a very special fragrance. It was created by Lyn Harris during the early stages of her first pregnancy when she found everything smelt so loud. Needing something that would nurture her senses rather than attack them, she blended this very pure scent, made up of complex florals: white lilac, cassie and heliotrope, blended with such unusual things as chocolate bean, banana and liquorice. This is a joy to wear, a true bloom of a scent; it keeps getting better and better as you wear it.”
These riper notes call out for a white wine with more complexity and mouthfeel. I thought of two exotic whites, both fleshy (white fleshed fruits), both creamy and rich with a texture that caresses the tongue. The first is a Cotes du Roussillon, Cuvée Lais, Olivier Pithon, a blend of Grenache Gris and Macabeu, which has aromas of white and yellow flowers and then opens to reveal a captivating nose of yoghurt and warm bread. Moulin des Dames Blanc, Bergerac Blanc is a great wine made by self-styled Vinarchiste, Luc de Conti. An amalgam of Sauvignon, Semillon and a little Muscadelle with extensive batonnage and some oak-ageing it reveals Intense flavours of buttery, super-rich warm spiced apricots, peaches and quinces ,incredible concentration and well-defined minerality. Ample mouthfeel and vivacity essential for a fine equilibrium. Superb power and complexity.
Both wines bloom in the glass (and are superb when poured into a carafe and decanter). The more you nose them and allow time for the wines to reach their optimum temperature, the more they will unveil their very special charms.
En sens de bois
Dry, woodspice, cedar, sandalwood, cumin, juniper…
“Deeply embedded with sensual references to Japanese temples, gardens and incense, these experiences inspired Lyn to translate the true essence of wood. The uniqueness of this fragrance is all about the careful balancing of the woods; cedar, santal, patchouli, vetiver, bois des landes, gently enhanced with mosses, cade, amber, iris, carrot and ambrette seed.
All these ingredients connect with each other, culminating in a warm, earthy, heavenly inspired scent for both a man and a woman. “
Certain grape varieties, particularly Cabernet Sauvignon, have an affinity for high quality oak. I was reminded of many of the top quality Bordeaux, especially those from Saint-Julien. Chateau Tour des Gendres, La Gloire de Mon Pere – elegant, fine-grained, dry. Spicy . Stunning purple colour, opulent sweet blackcurrant fruit aromas, cedar/tobacco, smooth vanillin oak on the palate, ripe integrated tannins, terrific finish.
Terre de Bois
Verbena, juniper, sage, masculine. Rich and perfumed. “Terre de Bois is a deep and sensuous scent . It has the fresh notes of verbena, juniper and clary sage combined with some spices, vetiver, moss and patchouli. This is a delicious and evocative fragrance for cold winter nights.” Once again I am transported to the Mediterranean, although this time the perfume evokes a variety of wines, both red and white. I am thinking (irresolutely) of Cahors, Le Cèdre from Chateau du Cèdre, a hugely sensuous powerful red wine that invites you to dive into its atramentous depths and is supple, sweet, and beautifully viscous with warm spices and phenomenal length. In a smilar vein the Saumur-Champigny, Cuvée La Marginale from Thierry Germain has Intense colour, powerful nose of blackberries, lovely attack in the mouth with notes of savoury vanilla, cinnamon, blackcurrant, fine tannins, great persistence with suggestions of paprika and mineral.
However, back to the Med and the wine that ticks all the herbs and spices, has to be the Bandol Rouge, Chateau de Pibarnon. Pibarnon is vibrant with stone-fruit, blackberry and violet aromas, but subsequently develops sophisticated secondary aromas of tobacco, leather, pine, and dried fruits. “From Bandol, tart in the finish, a little too flinty for my companion, but my teeth appreciate a hint of limestone in a grape. There is something manly and voracious in it somehow, as though one is drinking the rocky underpinning of the planet.” (Howard Jacobson)
Feuilles de Tabac
Sweet tobacco, oily notes, red pepper, hickory smoke, patchouli. An evening perfume. Masculine yet seductive and hedonistic . “Feuilles de Tabac is essentially a male fragrance, although like many of the others, it is worn by a few mysterious and independent minded women. It is woody and smoky, think of fashionable Brasseries of St. Germain. It is blended with Cuban cascarilla oil and pimento berries, tobacco and Malay patchouli. This is a deeply sexy and intriguing scent.”
Red Burgundy with all its evanescent, enchanting contradictions, light yet intense, impossible ever to pin down – Gevrey-Chambertin or Chambolle-Musigny from Philippe Pacalet – perfumed, sweet fruits, violets, menthol . A generous, elegant and rich wine with seductive fragrances reminiscent of amber, rose, violet, mignonette and fur. Pacalet is wont to describe some of his wines as “Cistercian”, characterised by monkish austerity and restraint! If this is a monk it is one who whispers sweet nothings and constantly reveals new secrets. Tasting across the range of Pacalet reds you will discern some common features; they share this luminous purity and are beautifully aromatic as well as being light and graceful, rarely tannic, and never buried in new oak.
We associate the Rhone with power and spice, but there are some very beautiful floral wines. One wine that I think would appeal to men and women alike would be Sierra du Sud, Domaine Gramenon – smoke and pepper, expression of olives, paprika and herbs.
Cuir d’Oranger
Wow – very leathery, dried spice and herbs. Hint of orange/mandarin. Very masculine. “Cuir d’Oranger is thoroughly reminiscent of times gone by, it is extravagant, luxurious and smells of tradition. It has a green Mediterranean note with fleur d’oranger to prevent the leather notes becoming too dry or powdery. It smells of delicious gentlemen, or how you would like them to smell. Exuding style, the scent was blended for the chic and sophisticated.”
Bold with bold here. Logically, one would team this scent with the heady, sun-drenched, leather, olive and sweet orange flavours of a great Chateauneuf-du-Pape such as the Cuvée Fiancée from Domaine La Barroche. It embodies strength with delicacy, an escape, a synthesis of subtle flavours: strawberries, black cherries, liquorice and a hint of toasty spice. Pure fruit and muscular minerality, beautiful texture and length with supple tannin. It signifies the perfect balance between kindness and strength. “Intense raspberry, strawberry, and exotic blood orange aromas complicated by garrigue and anise. Supple, sweet, and elegant, showing excellent depth and a broad range of red fruit tones. Silky, intensely fruity, and long.”
L’Air de Rien (made for Jane Birkin)
Coconut, musk, amber, vanilla, white pear – sensual, hedonistic, very individual, complex. “L’air de rien is a sensual translation of Jane Birkin’s fascinating life. It is an exquisite oriental fragrance of amber, vanilla, neroli, oak moss and musks. Jane’s intention was for the scent to reflect herself and her passions, an earthy fragrance to be worn simply, like a veil over one’s body, hence the name L’air de rien.”
One’s first impression is that we need to find a sweet wine, neither cloying nor unctuous, but something that works on several aromatic levels. Pacherenc Brumaire, Chateau Bouscassé “Brumaire”, a November harvest dulcet-toned wine made from Petit Manseng with a nose of almond pastry, pain grillé, cinnamon and caramelised pears. A veritable autumn symphony of a wine...The other alternative is to finish with fine champagne which offers a sophisticated contrast to the perfume. Cuvée 1522 from Champagne Philipponnat, a brilliant blend of Pinot Noir and Chardonnay from the premier chalk vineyards of Champagne, is aged in bottle for 7 seven years before disgorgement acquiring tremendous complexity over the while.
Vetivier bourbon
It does smell a bit of bourbon. Beautiful green oak notes as well. Really masculine perfume. “This is a classic French scent. It is a male fragrance, so sexy for women to smell. It mixes with one’s natural odour and wafts like a second skin around the body. With essence of vetiver from Haiti, patchouli, oak moss and vetiver bourbon from the island of Reunion, the ingredients are very rare and there is not a large stock. If a woman was bold enough to wear this, think 1970’s Charlotte Rampling in a St Laurent smoking suit.”
The dried fruits and evolved woody notes of the vintage Armagnac from Chateau Darroze would be a superb match. Chateau de Gaube 1962 has a golden colour with brown tinges. The nose is fresh and pungent. After airing, the balance is perfect, showing orange peel, prune, quince. On the palate, the tannins are round. Leather, coffee aromas dominate the fruity flavours. Very long finish.
Primus Malbecius Superbius
Sometimes you taste a wine so rich that you are tempted to tap it on the shouder and ask it for an unsecured loan of $100,000,000 Zimbabwean dollars. Reading an estimable wine organ recently I discovered that there are wines among us that do not merely court perfection they seek to transcend it. As a mere humble vessel with a shallow palate accustomed to coarse French wines I needed to understand that greatness can only be critically arbitrated by those whose mouths that can carry a greater weight of wine in them....
Primus Malbecius Superbius emanates from irony-free vines grown at 3000m high in the Andes whose deep-delved roots are verily refreshed by the purest glacial melt waters known to man. Cuttings for the vines were sourced from Malbekistan, a tiny lost republic nestling in the Caucasus mountains and the undoubted cradle of wine civilisation as we know it. So saturated with ripeness that the bunches touch the soil, the grapes are individually plucked by trained condors who carry their precious burden back to the winery, a glass and metal cathedral construction laid out on the lines of an ancient Incan temple. Each barrel in the cuverie is fashioned from 200% new oak, toasted evenly on both sides by artisan coopers flown over by private jet from their villages in France and after a 60-day maceration to ensure that no light can escape the wine and pigeage with velvet-coated battering rams, the wine matures to the mellifluous sound of Bolivian pan-pipes and massed devotional choirs. The first cask samples are tasted by the cowled and hooded Parkeristas, a cabal of Gauchos, who repeatedly murmur binary incantations of ones and two zeros until the wine is imbued with incontrovertible supranumeral greatness. It is then given the sacred papal benediction of Rolland who releases nano bubbles of reputation into the wine until it is so smooth that it begins to drink itself.
The Beauty of Natural Wines - From Sparkling Gamay to Ethereal Syrah
Wines don’t have to complicated to be delicious. In fact, the reverse is more often the case. The wines below are not straining at the leash - they are what they are…
2006 Petillant Naturel Boisson Rouge, Domaine de Montrieux
Ode to joie de vivre - purple stained mouth – check - beaded bubbles winking at the rim – check- seriously frivolous? – double check. The Pet Nat (Pétillant Naturel) is a savoury Gamay sur juice. It is made thusly: In the purest tradition of natural wines without sulphur the secret consists of harvesting the grapes ripe and in perfect health. The must begins its fermentation in vat and finishes in bottle. The richness of the sugars, the CO2 and the pressure created by the fermentation in bottle undermines the work of the yeasts. The fermentation then proceeds in a very slow manner until it finishes leaving the wine demi-sec. So flip off the red crown cap, pop, a seductive whisper and foam into the glass. Amidst the oodles of strawbs and rasps there’s a smoky flavour and a neat whack of green pepper – drink it chilled, of course. This fizzy McLizzy is intended for the dizzy days of summer and Heredia counsels sternly against drinking it beyond September. As if you would…
2004 Originel Blanc, Julien Courtois
Originel is a reference to the taste and methods of production of traditional white wines in this region of the Loire and Cher. The producers of Menu Pineau, a typical white variety of this region, can be counted on the fingers of one hand and number Claude Courtois, Julien’s father, and the Puzelats. The variety is also locally known as Arbois and Verdet as the grapes on certain vines remain green even at full maturity. Judged as poor in quality and less modish than Sauvignon it is not planted any more, surviving purely thanks to certain local sweet wines where it forms a minor part of the blend. Here it responds well to the extremely low yields (20 hl/ha), a third of the average for this admittedly rare variety. The specific terroir – silica and flint over clay and flint – linked to the upbringing of the wine (twelve months in barriques) confers a great deal of complexity to the final wine. A silky ensemble, both racy and powerful with ripe fruits on top of secondary aromatics of menthol and gentiane, butter and churned cheese. Carafe this wine two hours before drinking. When you drink it the following thoughts will trickle into your mind. Is it oxidised and is the wine meant to taste like this? Stop analysing, start enjoying. I describe this as “like Chenin on acid” (man) because I pick up many of that grape’s signature aromas: wax, hay, marzipan and ripe cheese. The palate has a surprise bite of nervous acidity which brings all the aromas and flavours into clear focus. Someone at the France Under One Roof tasting observed that it reminded them an apple tarte tartin (an upside down one, surely?). Or to give it an alliterative skip how about “liquid tart tarte tatin”? Like all interesting wines this Originel changes in the glass. Bring on the runny Brie de Meaux!
2005 Coteaux du Vendomois, Domaine de Montrieux
This is old vines Pineau d’Aunis, a variety, occasionally known as Chenin Noir, which seems to be the original red grape of the Loire. After a natural semi-carbonic maceration the wine obtained is light and spicy with delicate tannins. Remarkable aromas catch your attention as soon as you bring your nose to the glass: A whiff of white pepper is quickly followed by a lovely minerality reminiscent of rainwater washing over limestone. Other aromas include red flowers, talcum powder and wild yeast which lends a hint of savagery to the fruit. Fresh strawberries follow, ripe and sweet, leading into a tart, bone-dry red-berry flavour that’s light-bodied but mouth-filling. Lemony acidity, subtle berries and white pepper linger in a long finish. It is be drunk fresh, its mineral, peppery side helps it to marry with grills, charcuterie, cheese and even fish.
2006 Clos du Tue-Boeuf La Guerrerie
This is a blend of 75% Cot and 25% Gamay and definitely earns its wacky wine moniker. Very earthy (polite term for barnyardy) with extremely bright fruit such as plum, spice, fresh herbs with ash and wood notes. Dusty, earthy, minerally, complex and savoury. Structured as much by acid as by tannins. Despite its brightness it is definitely on the dark berry fruit side of things. As with other “low sulphur” wines you can’t escape the ping of wild yeast which manifests itself here as warm, doughy smells. Oh, and let’s return to that feral smell – is it the high priest of high game, a venison benison, or is it a sack of happy polecats? The is very full-bodied due to the high content of Cot but the Gamay softens it and makes it accessible. Chill it for half an hour in the fridge, then carafe it. At this temperature the beast is tamed and it is more than delicious. Bear in mind this wine and its idiosyncratic nom-du-guerre when you next exclaim “I could murder a steak”. La Guerrerie smells and tastes as if it has slaughtered quite a lot of beef in its time and knows where the bodies are buried.
2005 Coteau de la Loir Les Mortiers, Domaine Le Briseau
Coteaux du Loir means Pineau d’Aunis, a grape as delicious as it is unknown. Their wines have a wonderful way of being carefree, yet beautifully made. A cornucopia of red fruit notes—wild strawberry, raspberry and loganberry with a hint of rose geranium, are graced with the characteristic spice of Pineau d’Aunis, revealed as a dusting of black pepper. Lovely just for sipping.
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2007 VDP Ardèche Souteronne Romaneaux-Destezet.
2007 VDP Ardèche Syrah Romaneaux-Destezet
The Domaine Romaneaux-Destezet was created in 1993 by Hervé Souhaut. His holdings on the acidic granite soils of the northern Rhone and the southern Ardèche are a mixture of new and ancient vines—from 50 to100 years old. Hervé Souhaut’s vineyard is minuscule, only five hectares, and he employs only organic and biodynamic winemaking techniques.
The Syrah grapes for his VDP cuvée come from a tiny parcel of land along the slopes of the Doux River and the vines are on average 40 years old. At the end of September, the grapes are harvested and then undergo a very long maceration at a low temperature without desteming. The wine is then matured on the lees in second-hand oak casks for six months and then bottled without being filtered. This is one of the most elegant and eloquent cool climate Syrahs I have ever tasted. The nose is, how shall we say, tender: violets to the fore, then black cherry, wet stone and vanilla bean all interplay nicely as they gradually unfurl from the glass. The palate demonstrates the coolness of the fruit; its sheer silkiness reminding one of fine primary Pinot. The dark cherry flavours are pronounced, the mere hint of parma violet and a whiff of tar. The tannins are totally dissolved into the fruit but the wine is structured by delightful acidity. Ideal with pigeon, guinea fowl, roast chicken or pork. The Souteronne is made from only old Gamay grapes which are from 60 to 80 years old vines. The winemaking involves a long maceration at low temperature, without destemming the grapes and the juice is matured on the fine lees, in second-hand oak casks. It is then bottled without filtration. The SO2 is less than 25mg/l when bottled. The depth of colour of this wine is sensational and the nose billows out of the glass to reveal fresh red and dark fruits. The palate is something else - this is a truly superb Gamay with a lovely mineral edge as if granite had melted seamlessly into a wine.
Les Caves wines in the press
From The Guardian Saturday 27th July 2008
Tamellini Recioto di Soave Vigna Marogne 2004, Italy
Stockists: £19.85 for 500ml, Les Caves de Pyrene (lescaves.co.uk); 13.5% abv.
Description: Burnished gold, this sweet wine has a glossy, polished texture, and a taste reminiscent of wild flower honey, dried apricots, candied grapefruit peel and hay. It’s made by drying picked bunches of grapes for several months before pressing them.
Drink it with: A glass on its own, mid-afternoon, or try it with nectarines, thyme and mild goat’s cheese.
Score: 4 stars
From The Guardian Saturday 20th July 2008
..try Caveau de Bacchus Cuvée des Géologues 2002 Arbois, France (£12.99, Les Caves de Pyrene, lescaves.co.uk), which isn’t made from the red burgundy grape, but almost tastes as if it might be - this age-defying wine is like the most swooshy, silky, alpine-fresh pinot noir you could imagine.
What I like about Verdicchio di Matelica Colle Stefano Marche 2007, Italy (£8.99, Les Caves de Pyrene, lescaves.co.uk), is that for a split-second it feels like shooting stars or sherbet pips firing off in your mouth, then swerves into a more minerallic, sleekly fruity (pears and citrus) lively finish. It tingles with acidity that hides the tiny hint of sweetness that makes it really work against the smoke and salt of the bacon and with the caramelised scallops and sweetness of the peas. I have to admit that I’m quietly forgetting about the eggs here - egg yolks, boil - Sted or fried, tend to knock the middle out of a wine, but luckily there aren’t many of them..
From Jamie Goode’s Wine Anorak - Saturday 19th July 2008
Two wines from Hervé Souhaut at Domaine Romaneaux-Destezet in the northern Rhône. He has about 5 hectares of vines over the river from the Hermitage hill, so the wines are classified as Vin de Pays de l’Ardèche, but they are utterly beautiful, elegant creations, made from old vines with very little sulphur dioxide added. Elegantly packaged with their minimalist labels and black synthetic corks, these are wines of the moment – not designed to be cellared. Best served a little cooler than room temperature, too. [Unsurprisingly, in the UK these are available from Les Caves de Pyrene. No commercial connection, etc.]
Domaine Romaneaux-Destezet ‘La Souteronne’ Gamay 2007 Vin de Pays de l’Ardèche, France
Fresh, slightly sappy, herb-tinged nose. The palate has a lovely smooth texture and shows pure red cherry and cranberry fruit, with freshness, elegance and just a little spicy grip on the finish, making this a delightful, food-compatible wine of great purity. 91/100
Domaine Romaneaux-Destezet Syrah 2007 Vin de Pays de l’Ardèche, France
This is simply beautiful. There’s a distinctive cool-climate Syrah peppery kick on the nose, which is otherwise really pure and focused, with a gentle leafy character underneath the red fruits. The palate is beautifully supple, slightly sappy, and fantastically elegant, with real purity to the smoothly textured fruit. I guess the granite soils may have something to do with this: it’s light, but aromatic. Just 11.7% alcohol. 93/100
From Jamie Goode’s Wine Anorak Friday July 18th 2008
A deliciously full flavoured white from Luc Conti’s Tour des Gendres. Very stylishly packaged, too.
Chateau Tour des Gendres Bergerac Sec Muscadelle Petit Grain 2005 France
Nicely packaged with a musical score as a front label (can anyone read this?), this is a richly textured Muscadelle of real appeal. It’s quite complex, with notes of grapes, lemons, nuts and vanilla ice cream, as well as an almost floral, herby character. In the mouth it is quite thick, with a lush texture and a hint of pithy bitterness on the finish. It reminds me of a cross between an Alsace Pinot Gris and a rich Viognier. Quite a serious effort, and it also tastes quite modern in style, with fruit to the fore. 90/100 (Les Caves de Pyrene)
Geographical Revision of the Champagne AOC
Click here to find out details (in Acrobat PDF format)
quote of the day
“You have to be an idiot of elephantine proportions not to appreciate 1961 Latour.”
(Ratatouille)
Through a glass darkly
“Whoever knows he is deep, strives for clarity; whoever would like to appear deep to the crowd, strives for obscurity. For the crowd considers anything deep if only it cannot see to the bottom: the crowd is so timid and afraid of going into the water.”
Friedrich Nietzsche
“Your wines are obscure” was an accusation formerly levelled at us, as if we had wilfully sourced grape varieties that were off the map of human knowledge, and sought to promulgate exclusively recherché wines in order to bamboozle all and sundry. One of our growers even bottles his wines with the tag vigneron non conformé on the label. Oh, to be different etc. Well, a wine’s a wine for a’ that. Of course, the truth is quite the opposite: neither were the grape varieties obscure per se (many have a long and noble heritage), nor were the styles of “natural wine” difficult to comprehend, nor were the regions themselves whence the wines originated particularly outlandish, but to be sure knowledge about them was non-existent - or hazy to say the least. Until recently we were largely confronting closed minds and closed palates.
By some strange logic popularity used to be perceived as an imprimatur of quality (ergo, if a lot of people liked a wine it must be good). Similarly, if a lot of people had heard of a wine it must be good. It’s the argument widely used to justify the extension of brands and to pour money into marketing and label design. Perhaps the real reason why certain wines were popular and not others was because the public was only being exposed to a narrow range and these largely factory-produced vapid simulacra of wines had become, by default, the preferred common denominator of choice. This had nothing to do with democracy or responding to what the customer wanted. Reinforced by the unimaginative buying and vacuous promotional selling policy of supermarkets, wines survived and thrived in the market by a process of simple (un)natural selection: safety first and devil take the interesting grapes. Thus bland consistency (or consistent blandness) was the watchword and for a long period wines were made (or manufactured) to track the so-called palate of the general public.
Good taste may only flourish if there is real choice and a lot of education. We seek wines animated by their terroir. In our view the value of the unadorned (unadulterated) simplicity of the wine lies in its very nakedness. Obscure or pretentious wines disguise the essential transmission of flavour from the soil, the microclimate and the nature of the vintage to the vine and its grape variety; obscure wines are heavily manipulated in order to correct nature’s deficiencies and to create a homogenous product. Contrary to popular belief our wines strive for clarity. They achieve complexity through not being obscure: you can smell and taste every subtle inflection and nuance, rather than be bludgeoned by the winemaker’s attempts to layer flavour into the wine.
The more I taste our “obscure wines” with people (and explain the philosophy behind them) the more I feel that people are beginning to connect with the wines because they understand why they taste the way they do and thus appreciate them for what they are. That is not to say that they are easy wines. You only have to try a Valentini Trebbiano to understand that real wines are living wines – they taste different on almost every occasion.
Tastes change. Now we are praised for championing the cause of the small grower, for offering variety and for challenging the public. The map is being redrawn to reflect quality and interest; people want to be stimulated, to experiment and to discover wines which have a story. Trends are illusory and the notion of what will, and what should sell, is based on specious reasoning. Specialist wine companies can help to shift opinion and overcome the restraints of the commercial imperative by sticking to their guns and having faith in growers who make wines with a strong identity.
Schlossed On Alpine Dew - The Wines of Weingut Unterortl
Although I enjoy wine at home (just as bears wear funny shaped hats) I admit that I don’t really taste it. A shocking confession; surely in my “neck of work” my palate should be on the eternal qui-vive, poised and exquisitely critical. Well, sod that for a game of spillikins because when I relax gravity and levity propel the liquid down the gullet barely washing the sides of the throat and the brain is virtually always terminally disengaged.
Then again there are those sneaky private wine epiphanies, delicious moments when your nostrils twitch and arch and your senses tingle with anticipation. Though I may appear to deprecate enthusiastic responses, I secretly want to love the wine and shower gorblimeys on it. Tonight two wines from Weingut Unterortl sent me delving into my lexicon of soft coos and knowing winks. They hail from the Dolomitic fastness of Castel Juval, a chunk of Alpine supersculpture owned by Reinhold Messner, the mountaineer’s mountaineer, and his partners-in-wine Gisela and Martin Aurich. The vineyards are stunningly located about 800m above the valley on appropriately steep gneiss-rich slopes (you can imagine the pickers abseiling crazily down the hill). In this perfect environment as near as dammit perfect wine can be made; each grape surely carries its own reinheitsverein.
Back down in planet kitchen I tried a white called Juval Glimmer and verily it did glimmer and glint with diamond-sharp acidity. Language is wholly inadequate to describe this conjunction of purity and minerality; this is freshness exemplified, the electric freshness of citrus fruits zested over mountain stones, and, doubtless, a further seam of glacial-related metaphors to be liberally mined. Some wines are so pared down and linear, and possess such firm integrity, that the circumlocutions of description, even a terse tasting note, will fall short of honouring the nature of the wine – which is to say, the wine is.
And what is it? Try Fraueler and Blatterle mixed with Riesling. It’s shy at first, more stone than fruit, then reveals apple and even pineapple checked by lemony acidity. There’s a touch of smokiness, but not pronounced. A little pippin.
And do the reds measure up? Think Blauburg-yumder. A flugelhorn of Tirolean finesse. Limpid mountain Pinot, the essence of kirsch, bramble-jelly and woodland fruit and a natural sheen of vanillin that melts into the wine. It’s as fresh and elegant as you hope for without being unduly structured or striving for complexity.
Aesthetics and the Creative Response
What is truth? said Jesting Pilate. And, in the same breath, we could ask: “What is beauty?” (But we should stay for the answer.)
The appreciation of beauty is ultimately an emotional, subjective act, but the detailed and complete apprehension of beauty, especially in its complex forms such as music, art, and wine requires a body of knowledge and a set of objective observations. The two go hand in hand. Appreciation without knowledge may be pleasurable, but it is shallow. Apprehension without appreciation may be detailed, but it ignores our humanity and the truth of emotion.
We look to critics not just to analyze, but to make aesthetic judgments, and their assessments are necessarily born of the human condition: we have both perceptions and emotions, and we can no more divorce the two than we can give up our humanity. The real question is whose perceptions and emotions do we trust?
Subjectivity, Aesthetics, and the Evaluation of Wine – http://www.vinography.com
The intrinsic quality of any wine is capable of striking through the senses and into the mind of the taster with a feeling of novelty and discovery. Aesthetically, we are looking at the unified complex of characteristics which constitute “the outward reflection of the inner nature of a thing” – its individual essence. This feeling for intrinsic quality, for the unified pattern of essential characteristics, is the special mark of the superior taster, whose business is to select these characteristics and organise them into significant form.
Effectively, as superior tasters, we are trying to capture in language the rich and revealing “oneness” of the wine, a Platonic notion of intrinsic pattern or design. This involves bringing forth the sensation of the interior structure or inscape of the wine– an illumination, a sudden perception of deeper pattern, order and unity which gives meaning to the objective description. So much of tasting is done at the margins of perception; it is a prosaic, phenomenological, almost ascetic activity that tabulates the extrinsic attributes of the wine when intuition and sensuality would provide an even richer understanding of the wine.
I would like this creative response to replace, to a certain extent, the evaluative aspect of wine tasting with its need to mark wine by rote. Our aesthetic judgements are prisoners to the spectral hierarchy of good/bad; it is as if the wine qua wine is less important than the validation of the critics.
A TOUCH OF GLASS - The Transparent World of Arc International
Wherefore to Dover?
We were off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of glass, at the world’s largest glass factory (all genuflect) located in the town of Arques, near Calais.
Arc the herald angels clink
Glory to the new-born drink
Over the years ARC international has developed a great knowledge in the field of wine. A demi-john, a glass amphora that was originally used to transport wine – was the company’s first success. Out of several million grains of moulded and treated sand doth an empire spring. A series of emblematic glasses has followed since then, each one designed to add to the experience of wine tasting and consumption.
The original family enterprise was established in the early 19th century, but the company became a world leader after the second world war when the factory was automated. Paternalistic vision has created a unified industry combined with a desire to stay at the top of the market through constant innovation, and reinvention by encouraging research and development. The Durand family has owned the company for four generations and oenology has always been their primary focus. In 2004, Philippe Durand created and implemented a project using a high-tech material dedicated to wine tasting, namely Kwarx. One of the three research priorities for the group is materials. In February 2005, Kwarx products were released on the market. Free of heavy metals and considerably more price competitive than crystal, it nevertheless has the main qualities of transparency and lightness, combined with greater mechanical strength and chemical resistance.
The Group’s researches, production and marketing teams took two years to perfect it. A line of glasses in Kwarx®, known as Open Up, has been commercialized since 2006. The advantages of Kwarx are numerous. The glasses are completely transparent (it has a T index of 0 i.e. achromatic)) owing to the fact they are colourless. That’s a good thing by the way. They are resistant to industrial washing agents and thereby retain their lustre for a much longer period than the average glass. Moreover, the glasses are very strong: even trained opera singers need not apply. Solidity is obtained by an invisible but very strong bond between the bases, stems and bowls, which results in a smooth, unified surface which does not have any obvious weak points. Needless to say the formula is a closely guarded secret.
But I am getting ahead of myself… What is glass? I’m glad you asked.
Glass is formed by the fusion at more than 1,300° C of a mixture of sand, soda ash, limestone and cullet (broken glass). Sand is the basic raw material that goes into glass making. To give an example, the French production site of Arc International consumes an average of 1,000 tonnes of sand – which is shipped in from Holland - per day. No wonder it is sinking.
There are three technical processes in glass manufacturing: pressing, blowing and centrifuging.
Pressed glass manufacturing is suitable for items with thick edges such as stemware or beer mugs. The glass drop is deposited in a mould which shapes the outer form of the product before a central plunger stamps out its inner volume. The item is then cooled in air, removed from the mould and burnt to get rid of small defects and make the glass smooth and shiny.
Blown Glass Before being placed in the mould the drop of glass is stamped by the central plunger. The blank shape is put into the finishing mould and then blown to give it its final appearance. This process is particularly suitable for delicate items with thin walls and curved stems.
Centrifuged glass is used for making dishes or plates. The drop of melting glass falls into a mould which is then rotated rapidly to spread it uniformly in the mould.
In order to make a glass perfectly solid, it undergoes a final manufacturing stage known as annealing. The glass is then heated then cooled slowly in a homogenous way. This process avoids tension between the inside and the edge of the item.
In order to ensure quality products, each item is checked by comparing it with reference models for commercial brands. The products are sorted after each stage of the manufacturing process.
Sorting is done by a luminous control station which reveals defects by using mirrors.
The factory at Arques comprises no fewer than thirty furnaces all cranking it on 24/7, each housed in giant warehouses. It is an amiable vision of hell with the overarching muscularity of the machines, the furious flashes of fire, eructating gas jets and the sheer incessant metallic din.I particularly enjoyed watching the production lines snaking around the warehouses and the quality control practiced by machine and man alike as each glass was measured (against near perfection) and the maculate runts of the litter with their bumps or flaws were weeded out for recycling. From such sturm and drang comes reinforced finesse; the aesthetic of design and strength.
Doctor Johnson used the example of glassmaking to describe the transmutation of raw material into something quite splendid:
Glassmaking; Technology
“...it might contribute to dispose us to a kinder regard for the labours of one another, if we were to consider from what unpromising beginnings the most useful productions of art have probably arisen. Who, when he saw the first sand or ashes, by a casual intenseness of heat, melted into a metalline form, rugged with excrescences, and clouded with impurities, would have imagined, that in this shapeless lump lay concealed so many conveniences of life, as would in time constitute a great part of the happiness of the world? Yet by some such fortuitous liquefaction was mankind taught to procure a body at once in a high degree solid and transparent, which might admit the light of the sun, and exclude the violence of the wind; which might extend the sight of the philosopher to new ranges of existence, and charm him at one time with the unbounded extent of the material creation, and at another with the endless subordination of animal life; and, what is yet of more importance, might supply the decays of nature, and succour old age with subsidiary sight. Thus was the first artificer in glass employed, though without his own knowledge or expectation. He was facilitating and prolonging the enjoyment of light, enlarging the avenues of science, and conferring the highest and most lasting pleasures; he was enabling the student to contemplate nature, and the beauty to behold herself.”
Johnson: Rambler #9 (April 17, 1750)
We are stocking three out of the four current ranges of the Chef and Sommelier glasses: Select, Open Up and Oenologue.
The advantage of the Open Up is that it is both contemporary in design and practical in application. Its dynamic angular shape allows the wine to oxygenate perfectly and rapidly; the aromas develop in the angle and are concentrated towards the top. It is ideal for young wines. Aesthetically, this glass might not please the traditionalist; as a vehicle for tasting it is superb.
There are eight glasses in the Open Up range. Tannic has a wide bowl and tapered top to enhance the qualities of powerful tannic wines such as Cabernet Sauvignon. Soft is a 47cl glass with a distinctive shape that particularly accentuates aromas of “red berries and enhances the wines of delicate, refined and fleshy grapes such as Pinot Noir and Zinfandel (WHAT?). This allows the subtlety of the silky tannins to emerge and guides the wine to the front third of the tongue while promoting the fruit flavours”. Hmm – I think that Zin should have a dedicated glass called Loud. Universal Tasting (40 cl) offers diversity as it complements a variety of wines, such as red with not too much tannin or acidity, as well as white such as Sauvignon. Its elongated bowl and slightly tapered rim ensures a perfect equilibrium as it concentrates aromas and brings the wine into the middle of the tongue. The steeply angled walls of the Round (37cl) allow the aroma of fresh butter often found in this grape to emerge as well as guide the liquid to the centre and sides of the tongue promoting a fine balance of acidity and fruit. Other glasses include the Pro Tasting, Effervescent (for champagne and sparkling wines), Sweet (for aromatically rich wines) and Blind Test (an opaque glass which allows you to play practical taste jokes on your friends).
The Select range is very competitively priced and the design is more classic. This is sturdy glassware also using the Quarx technology.
The Oenologue range was created by oenologist Danny Rolland and has a unique, harmoniously curved shape. Initially made of crystal it is now Quarx and although very slender it is remarkably tough.
Well, you know what Browning wrote in Abt Vogler?
On earth the broken arcs; in the heaven, a perfect round. In Arques, in terms of divine glassware, maybe heaven is a place on earth.
Bourgogne Rouge Bedeau, Domaine de Chassorney
This is what natural wine is all about, a probing examination of terroir and the Pinot Noir grape in all its naked beauty. Frederic Cossard is another of those vignerons who work the vines like a sensitive Stakhavonite placing all emphasis on creating a healthy environment for the grapes. The vinification is equally sensitive with nothing added and nothing taken away.
The Bedeau teases as it pleases. The nose is very fine, almost restrained and yet certainly and pertinently Pinot Noir. It is reassuringly pale in colour and aromatically there are suggestions of stonefruit, flint and red berry and secondary notes of seasoned wood. The palate is lively and sapid, the fruit complemented and held in check by the stony elegance of the minerality. Overall the Bedeau exhibits regal poise and drive, this fluid Pinot sliding vibrantly over the tongue rather than spreading its soft, sweet charms to all corners of the mouth.
Natural wines – are they different or are we making an artificial case for qualitative superiority? Tasting Cossard’s Bourgogne Rouge, Herve Souhaut’s northern Rhone Syrah and the Pineau d’Aunis from Domaine Le Briseau, to name but three, you are aware that all the wines possess energy. They do not suffer “palate drag” whereby excessive fatness, sweetness, extraction, bitterness, alcohol or wood seem to hold back the very essence of the wine or cause our tongues to negotiate superimposed textures and flavours.
Les Caves takes Gold
A fantastic result for Les Caves de Pyrène at the International Wine Challenge awards last night at London’s Grosvenor Hotel on Park Lane.
We were awarded in the following categories:
On Trade Supplier of the Year Trophy 2008
Regional France Specialist of the Year 2008
Loire Specialist of the Year 2008
And joint runners up in the following categories:
Italian Specialist of the Year 2008
Best Wine List 2008
Thanks to the team at Les Caves for their hard work and for everyone who has supported us over the last year. It just makes us want to keep on pushing the boundaries of excellence.
Santat!
A Super Second Wine, A Second Rate Me
Last night I drank my first 100 Parker pointer and it was, every drop, a perfect wine. Because of my own deficiencies, I like to think that there is nothing duller than perfection – just think of the perfect images of Greek gods – Zeus, perfection personified, yet, with his rippling torso and smooth marble skin he’s not sexy is he? But I am wrong about the perfection thing, for this wine sparkled in its perfection, exuding elegance and energy.
So why all the despondency? At breakfast, the men with whom I’d drunk the wine could barely stop for breath let alone butter their toast – all because of THAT wine. “THAT wine if she were a woman, would be aristocratic, a Cambridge graduate, a beautiful Parisien.” I reached for more pastries and felt like a tart. I topped up my coffee as their fantasies continued and hoped for a caffeine high. My thoughts went back to the night before…
I was passed a glass of red to sample. It was a light, brick red, all the purple, bruised hues of youth had disappeared, to be replaced by autumnal tones. It had to be Bordeaux. Vintage Bordeaux. You just know (although you won’t say, just yet, just in case) There’s a connection at first sight, between you and the wine glass. The smell confirmed my hopes (it’s definitely Bordeaux) that smell of music rooms, of reeds and resin, and dusty ivory keys. But the aromas and flavours of fruit were still present. Blackberry, curranty fruit pointed with a blue stained finger to the left bank where Cabernet Sauvignon dominates the blends.
My eyes and nose powered through the gears, pedalling through possibilities, I couldn’t settle, I had to take a sip. It was so sturdy and yet so sweet, the evidence from the palate pushed my thoughts towards Pauillac. And the vintage? It must’ve been an amazing year for the fruit to resonate still, hints of fresh fruit, amongst flavours of dried fruit and powdered spices, and there was an eerily fresh floral perfume, an autumnal wine smelling of spring? The palate was exquisite, the tannins woven in so intricately, holding the fruit and acid together like lace, or a silky web, there was something so feminine, or feminist, about this wine - outwardly delicate yet possibly dangerous, the sweetness and the floral aromas belying subtle, and once very powerful tannins.
The finish was powerful too, there was no escaping this wine, not even when the glass was empty, the memory of the aromas and flavours lingered – just as I was to find out at the breakfast table the next morning. We’d all gone to sleep thinking about her, and awoke to talk about her. Unforgettable.
The wine was Chateau Pichon-Longueville Comtesse De Lalande 1982. A legendary wine from one of the best vintages of last century.
So Parker has a point, some things are perfect, and compelling and profound in their perfection. And when my green eyed monster departed the breakfast room, I was simply glad to have known her, I doubt I’ll get the chance to meet her again – and sadly I think, for my frail self esteem, it’s probably for the best.
The Guildford Times
Click here to read the article (in Acrobat PDF format)
Chateau Monty - A Review
Is it too much to hope that wine can be treated as a subject worthy of mature consideration for television? That’s a rhetorical question – TV will always wave its magic wand and make everything dumber than a first growth Bordeaux in cask.
As they say where there’s muck, there’s dross. The tone of the programme was pitched between patronising chuckling at the inanities of the French and English alike and a faux-breathless wondering whether Monty’s project would bear fruit (in both senses). Even the name of the wine irritates me. In the Roussillon, a row of vines and a shed maketh a domaine, not a Chateau. Within five minutes there was a repetitive grinding noise that I couldn’t get out of my head – it was my teeth. Within a further five minutes I was chewing my elbow and by the commercial break I decided to emulate Monty and bury this manure that constituted this TV programme deep in the humus of my subconscious.
For this was chateau-bottled triteness with a vengeance. A story about creating a commercial product wine from a few rows of gnarled vines using an agricultural methodology that few people understand has terrific potential to inform as well as entertain, but TV requires portentous voice-overs prophesying doom and artificially ramping up the operatic conflict. Chateau Monty consequently surfed on vast rollers of cliché ranging from the jaunty Jean de Florette fluting background music to the beady-eyed, nosy French peasants twitching their net curtains as they inspected the la folie de l’Anglais.
Context was completely absent. The Roussillon itself is a fabulous wild wine region with an abundance of growers working biodynamically on their tiny vineyard plots. Monty was presented as an eccentric stranger in a strange land performing some kind of voodoo with cow’s poo-poo. There are plenty of expats ploughing a similar furrow; indeed the Languedoc-Roussillon has proved to be a melting pot for tradition and innovation. With such fabulous terroir it is only natural that growers want to return to the roots of winemaking…
Let me say now that I respect Monty Waldin very highly for flying the flag for organic and biodynamic wines and his endeavour – in outline – is a laudable one, to practise literally what he preaches.
Biodynamics is thus presented as the domaine of swivel-eyed fundamentalists and hippies. Mention of the lunar calendar brings forth the usual corny quip about a loony calendar. No opportunity is passed up for a lame joke or an excruciating pun. Geoffrey Palmer’s (the narrator) drawl seemed to say: “Can we be bothered with this load of old toss?” Chateau Monty needed to get down and dirty in an intellectual sense, by simultaneously respecting a philosophy and methodology espoused by farmers as well as wine growers whilst questioning its validity in a proper scientific fashion. Oh, I’m sorry, that would be the intelligent approach. Serious analysis was never going to be on this particular menu. If biodynamics ever aspired to credibility then its seriousness was blown by the frenetic cutting and blipverting in the name of entertainment.
The programme’s alienation effect is further compounded by confected nuggets of drama. As viewers we are perhaps becoming more attuned to the devices which manipulate the storyline. For example, when Monty’s assistant is proving difficult to rouse; a dog jumps onto her bed while she is slumbering. Presumably she is also able to sleep peacefully through the fact that a cameraman and sound recordist are lurking in her bedroom.
Television deals in hyper-reality, a parallel world where all experiences are intensified as if magnified under a lens. Stories are cut and reshaped to form a narrative arc, time is bent or collapsed, musical rhythms are established. Our senses are constantly being frothed into an uncritical lather – well, drama-docs are the new soap, after all.
A la Player I’m pitching you my monster movie script: It’s A Year in Provence meets Against All Odds with a little Withnail and I thrown in. I think you know where I’m coming from. It casts itself:
Monty: Richard E Grant
Uncle Monty: Richard Griffiths
Monty’s wife: Juliette Binoche
Brummie Lass: Renee Zellweger
The Late Bill Baker: Brian Blessed
The Mayor: Matt Damon
The Lugubrious Voice of Geoffrey Palmer: The Lugubrious Voice of Sir Clement Freud
Didier Dagueneau R.I.P.
Didier Dagueneau, also known as the Wild Man of Pouilly-Fume, has died in a micro-lite accident in the Charentes region of South West France. He was an extraordinary man, part curmudgeon, total individual, a pioneer of biodynamic viticulture. He brought the Sauvignon grape to a new level making brilliantly nervous, mineral wines of fantastic longevity.
Notes from a tasting at Vinoteca 26/09/2008
2007 Grecanico, Caruso & Minini
This wine from the Marsala area of Sicily is remarkably smart for the price. The nose is warm, suggestive of orange-blossom, dry honey and marzipan, and perhaps roast apricots, the palate is beautifully textured, vinous and round with good length and a slightly bitter peach kernel finish. I’m checking out my squid options, but could transfer into grilled mackerel.
2006 Jasnieres Kharakter, Domaine le Briseau
Why do I love Chenin so much? This is why… Seductive pollen aromas draw you into the glass, the mouth is taffeta with the smoothness of peeled pears rolled in wild honey and cinnamon. The finish is understated, deliciously natural with not a molecule out of place. Put your hard earned into pork bellies and rev up a glass of this cool character.
2005 Sancerre Cuvee Jadis, Henri Bourgeois
Our favourite Sauvignon Rose (or Gris ) from the durned Kimmeridgean-clay slopes sheering up from Chavignol. The wine is so harmonious, pink grapefruit and passionfruit flavours abound, held in check by fine minerality. A pleasure to drink now but would age very well. Shares in goat’s cheese are rising.
2007 Pacherenc sec vieilles vignes, Domaine Berthoumieu
This wine has never shown better than this. I can only refer to a previous note here: “Punchy with acidity and bags of orchard fruit flavour. This is from old vines (up to 50 years old) half fermented in tank and half in new oak. Batonnage is for 8 months. This is a big, generous wine: quite golden with a nose of orchard fruits burnished by the sun, conjuring half misty-half sunny early autumn afternoons. The wine slides around the tongue and fills the mouth with pear william and yellow plum flavours, ginger and angelica (tastes as if there is quite a lot of lees contact) and is rounded off by a lambent vanillin texture. You’d want food - grilled salmon with fennel or some juicy scallops perhaps.”
2006 Rully 1 er cru Chapitre, Domaine de Belleville
Gobsmackingly good Burgundy – I had to check the label to see if I wasn’t drinking a Cote de Beaune from a serious village. Golden colour, waves of roasted hazelnuts and almonds and pain grillé, good attack on the palate with the spicy oak well-contained easing into apple and lemon finish with recurrent reminders of the hazelnuts. A winner. Drank it eight hours later and it had developed a more mineral component – serious backbone here. This Belleville will be having several rendez-vous with my cellar, Trade in luxury fish or shellfish - lobster or turbot.
2007 Viognier-Roussanne, Ardeche, Romaneax-Destezet
I like the fact that the Viognier only gives a delicate aromatic steer to the wine. To me this is all about the Roussanne which bequeaths amazing smells of warm hay and roasted herbs; the Viognier weighs in with some honeysuckle (none of those confected aromas here) and, as the wine develops in the glass, the various components meld seamlessly. This would be my white meditation wine; it reminds of great white Chateauneuf-du-Pape which seems to put on textural and textual layers the longer you allow it to find its aromatic equilibrium. Eating futures are in monkfish and turbot again.
2004 Vino Bianco, Trebez, Dario Princic
Put your preconceptions into neutral and your taste buds into overdrive and experience a wine with minerality, relentless focus, bitter bite and guts. Princic’s wines have the same feel as those of La Stoppa and Valentini: totally unfiltered, they taste of the earth, of rock salts and bitter stony fruits, in other words edgily natural. The Trebez (Pinot Grigio, Chardonnay and Sauvignon) is amber with aromas of wild yeasts, and grapeskin. It is almost prickly on the tongue gripping the gums with (white) pepper tannins, grapefruit zest and dry minerality and wakey-wakey acidity. Fantastically uncompromising, an evangelical hymn to purity. I’d risk this wine with a veal chop or something completely different like a chunky fish stew.
Sachia di Perricone Caruso & Minini
2006 Sachia di Perricone, Caruso & Minino
Sachia di Perricone which sounds like it might be a faded porn star, or Neuropeptide Firming Moisturiser or a hairdresser who croons in Las Vegas night clubs and writes theme music for spaghetti westerns in his spare time, is, in fact, a lesser-cultivated red grape, also known as Pignatello, or Tuccarino, depending upon the area. Not very popular on an individual basis, this slightly bitter wine has strong tannins and is an important contributor to several DOC varietals from the western part of the Sicily, including Contea di Sclafani, and Marsala Rubino.
For me Sicilian reds, glory be to COS, tend to be jam yesterday, today and tomorrow. The fruit has the thickness as if the sun has slowly caramelised the grape skins. Many growers are not averse to the odd oak barrel to add some more charge to the guaranteed richness. When you taste most Sicilian reds your tongue has to scoop out layers of confection to discover the real deal; more often than not the wine is just a thick veneer of oenology.
The Sachia di Perricone from Caruso & Minini, however, does not see a stave of oak, being fermented in stainless steel. The nose is focused, not so much cherries as cherry-stones, and the slightly bitter chocolate attack in the front of the mouth releases a beautiful glide of acidity which carries the red pepper fruit finish. The tannins are present, but so is the fruit, and the acidity cleans all that. Although one might look at the abv and think it was full-bodied it definitely feels lighter and fresher. Served lightly chilled this could be a ringer for Barbera.
Emily gets meaty with Malbec
I am two weeks away from a wine trip to Argentina. Ten days of grapes and steaks. I’m excited, but to be perfectly honest, much more interested in the meat than the Malbec. For me, Argentinian Malbec proves problematic. Mainly because the wine is so…so effortless – or seemingly so. The wine it makes shows no sign of struggle on the eye, nose or palate. There is always this great intensity of colour. Vivid, deep purples and ruby reds. And on the nose, powerful aromas of clean, ripe, brambly fruit. On the palate, firm tannins and robust fruit and spice flavours.
These wines have never known the drama of damp. Of rot settling into their skins. Neither have they feared the disappearance of the sun with its heat and light. From what I’ve heard, hailstones are as bad as it gets! Pop up a couple of nets and the situation is solved. No wonder these wines are so bright and bubbly – their childhood has been so rosy, high up on their high altitude slopes, away from any smut and smog. They have no concept of what it’s like to grow up in Bordeaux, where three rivers meet and copper sulphate must be administered like calpol. Or where frost threatens to crack your thin skin as in Cahors.
No. These reds are fresh and fun and intensely fruity. Pure and sweet – blackberries and black cherries, blueberries and sweet cinnamon spice. They are the cheerleaders of the wine world, bouncing about with their pink and purple fluffy pom-poms. They sing and they dance and they smile. Can you picture the scene? The Argentine Malbecs on the side of the pitch, hopping about, with their firm tannins and perfectly pert acidity. Meanwhile up in the stands, stand the Metalheadz from Cahors – tough and unforgiving, leathery and well built, bereft of such soft, fluffy edges. (I can’t help but imagine, a few rows back, some seats occupied by a gang of Goths – or rather German Riesling, personified – pale and interesting, with spiky hair and lean, listless limbs.)
So how does a grape cross the water and become a B.I.M.B.O??? Does Argentina just have it too good? The answer lies between me and Mendoza, watch this space…
Pommard 1er cru Poutures, Domaine Dublere 2006
Blair Pethel caught the Burgundy bug and moved to the Beaune permanently with his family in 2003, and started making wine in 2004, after qualifying in viticulture and oenology with a year’s course at the famous Lycée Viticole of Beaune. He apprenticed with several top winemakers—Patrice Rion in Premeaux-Prissey and Jean-Marc Pillot in Chassagne-Montrachet, to name two—and learned to work both the vines and the wine with care and respect. “I bring this attitude to everything I do: my work in my own vineyards, in the vineyards owned by others from whom I buy grapes, in the winery and in the cellar”.
It’s the vinegrower’s job to natural fashion while favouring the development of bacteria that improve the quality of both the soil and the grapes. No anti-botrytis treatments, just careful, hands-on viticultural practices which enable them to avoid this strain of rot. Well-aerated vines are achieved by pruning long and de-budding severely, pinching excess secondary shoots, de-leafing and keeping yields low. No insecticides are used, always sexual confusion pheromones to assure the vines are protected against pests. All vineyard work is designed to optimise the vine’s ability to search deep into the soil for the nourishment and minerals which give the wines their innumerable nuances. To achieve this goal, Domaine Dublère farms with absolute respect for the soil and the vine itself which entails no chemical fertilizers. When there is a need, they use only organic compost to add nutrients to the vineyards via the intermediary of the soil. “We feed the soil, never the vine”. No weed killers, only ploughing by traditional methods. All vineyard work is done with an ultra-light tractor to avoid compacting the soil, thereby allowing it to breathe and develop naturally.
After a rigorous selection process, the grapes are put in fermenting tanks without pumping. The “cuvaison” is fairly long – between 18-21 days – during which the wine is pumped over or has the cap punched down at least twice daily to extract colour, tannins and aromas. After pressing, the wine is cooled and allowed to settle for 3-4 days. It is put in small oak barrels – of which a quarter are new – by gravity, with a fair amount of fine lies to feed the wine during maturation. After maturing for 18-20 months, the wine is carefully racked off and assembled for bottling without fining or filtration.
The Pommard 1er cru Poutures reveals violets, gooseberries, griotte cherries and bilberries with all the glycerin softness and savoury scent that one yearns for in Pinot from the Beaune. I was expecting pummeling Pommard, rough hewn and masculine, pruney and powerful, but instead found myself tasting a charming, pretty wine, confidently juicy, and delicately sensual like the brushing of red lips against skin. One feels this wine will flesh out in time moving through the spectrum of ripe plum towards leather and truffle but at the moment it is flush with youth, fresh and poised.
Whilst this wine struggled with my vegetable curry last night (what was I thinking of) I can imagine it with all manner of feathered game and even roast lamb.
Pure Cold - How to get a fizzical champagne
I’m thinking of putting together a section entirely devoted to “press cobblers”, a room 101 of the web where we could first highlight and then consign to oblivion the stupidity that is written or spoken about wine when it is finally treated as a mainstream subject. A recent Channel 4 Dispatches: “What’s In Your Wine” was a well-meaning but monumentally ill-informed attempt to come to grip with the subject of additives in wine. I’m still laughing too much with incredulity to write about it. Here is, however, a little necklace of non-sequitur pearls to keep you amused…
CHILLED SUMMER ADDS FIZZ TO ENGLISH BUBBLY - from The Observer 05/10/2008
The cold summer has added extra sparkle to an English wines already taking on the best from France’s Champagne region.
Though poor weather destroyed almost 80% of the grapes at Cornwall’s Camel Valley Vineyard, those that survivaed are perfect for its sparkling wine called “Cornwall”.
Lower temperatures have increased acidity in the fruit, ensuring extra fizz from this year’s vines.
Mmm - I’m going to crack open a bottle of Cape Wrath Noir de Noirs and check my mouth for enamel after a glass.
Agony Aunt
Agony Aunt
Published: (10-09-2008)
Author: Doug Wregg
Doug Wregg, sales director of Les Caves de Pyrene, offers tips on how to build a good relationship with your suppliers.
Do you have a question for one of our sommelier agony aunts? If so, get in touch at .
Q - I know that part of building a good wine list is building a good relationship with suppliers. I’ve spoken to a lot of my colleagues about how they manage this aspect of their jobs, but it would be interesting to get a supplier’s take on the whole thing. What factors influence the relationship from your perspective – both in the positive and the negative sense.
A - As a wine merchant I hope that my customers will actively engage with us and fully use our resources and experience. We service 700 restaurants and other businesses; we know, better than most, what works and what doesn’t, and it is in our interest to offer the best advice so that the restaurateur can run an effective list.
In helping to build a wine list the merchant can shape the wine culture in a restaurant. Wine merchants don’t mind high-maintenance accounts if that maintenance has a purpose. Better a flexible, constantly changing wine list than something set in stone for six months or a year. The imaginative buyer will challenge the wine merchant to come up with interesting proposals; the uninterested or complacent one will take the line of least resistance.
Finally, we like to be able to talk to our customers and find out how we can be of assistance. Some sommeliers (especially those who are passionate about their profession) are highly responsive. Others are remote to the point of being uncontactable, except when they want something from you. If the sommelier wants the best service from a particular wine company, they have to contribute something to the relationship themselves.
In summary:
Our favourite clients:
Want a constructive partnership with us.
Ask what’s possible and don’t demand the impossible.
Understand the difference between value for money and cost.
Put together creative, interesting lists and know how to showcase unusual wines (for example, rotation of stock by the glass).
Are genuinely interested in training their staff.
Give us feedback on the wines.
Our worst clients:
Are driven by margins: some restaurants are obsessed with price and endless freebies. (Restaurants with this philosophy never have great lists.)
Play one merchant off against another.
Want to return stock from vintages that are no longer current.
Demand credits for corked wines (which are often not corked but out of condition because they have been badly stored or sit on the shelf too long).
Take so long to decide to list a wine after a tasting that it has moved on to the next vintage.
Real Wines Tasting Really Good
Highlights of a tasting with Fiona Sims at Bentley’s Restaurant…
2006 Jasnieres Kharakter, Domaine Le Briseau – Loire
It is said that, maybe three or four times a century, the appellation of Jasnières makes the greatest Chenin on earth. I like this notion of a terroir, notoriously temperamental, that unabashedly fixes you with its glittering eye and declares: “I am what I am – take me, or preferably, leave me!” Most certainly the vagaries of vintage determine the style of the wine: the difference, for example, between 2005 & 2006 is profound. Even the more sumptuous examples have an astringency that keeps your palate guessing. There’s warmth, waxiness and those almond notes typical of Chenin, some sly sherry aromatics and pulped-pear-mingled with-flint-fruit. The Kharakter is a delicate golden wine with inviting nose of warm pearskin, sweet hay and fine honey. It has a smooth, taffeta-textured mouth, no bitterness, just ripe autumnal fruits laced with swathes of beautifully soothing acidity. This would be divine with slivers of creamy young blue cheese served with ripe pears and walnuts.
2004 Vino Bianco Trebez, Dario Princic – Friuli
When I came into the tenebrous basement at Bentley’s I saw what I thought was an eerily beautiful lava lamp sitting casting hazy amber light around it. Closer inspection revealed it to be a decanter of our own amber nectar, Princic Trebez, sitting on a plinth. No jokes about the plinth of darkness. The wine, as it eased into our glasses, reminded me of natural cider. It bites like a white and grips like red – imagine grainy apricot skins with grated ginger and surprising notes of pink grapefruit (from the ripe Sauvignon in the blend). Bring on the white truffle risotto.
2006 Macon-Chaintré, Domaine Philippe Valette – Burgundy
This Macon has the jaunty swagger of old vines fruit. Valette picks his ripe and allows a degree of oxygenation –Vinification is natural: without sulphur, without yeasts, chaptalization or acidification. Elevage is for twenty-six months on the fine lees in tank (20%) and futs de chene (80%). Ripe apple, honey, lemon and grey mineral all come together in a distinctly mature, winey nose. Clarity of fruit and good acidity show through, with a more lush profile than Chablis but a long, almost crystalline finish.
2006 Peter Pliger Kuenhof Veltliner – Alto-Adige
Wax those tongue skis before tackling this wine of amazing minerality and complexity. Pliger’s wines need long aging before expressing themselves with depth and fascinating luminosity. Peter Pliger, proprietor and winemaker at this tiny property (only about 2,500 cases are produced annually), is considered to be a pace-setter for the Valle Isarco region, which is located in the normally cooler northern portion of Südtirol. His organically cultivated vines exhibit an aromatic profile and stony minerality that differ from those grown just north or south of his property and are expressive of a unique terroir. Biologically responsible farming is essential, Pliger asserts, if the microflora in the soil are to properly convert the various mineral elements into the soluble form needed by the vines. He grows only Sylvaner, Gewürztraminer, Riesling and Veltliner; the last two in particular are striking wines, perhaps reflecting Pliger’s admiration for Rieslings of the Mosel and Veltliners of the Wachau in Austria (where they are called Grüner Veltliner). Appealing floral scents on the nose. On the palate, the wine offers the very essence of freshly cut apple, sappy yet very smooth, and complemented by layers of citrus and tropical fruits. An undercurrent of chalk and woodsmoke lingers on the palate, giving this elegant wine an added sense of structure. If ever a wine embodied the glorious tension between stone, sun, soil and water this was it.
2005 Bourgogne Rouge Bedeau, Domaine de Chassorney – Burgundy
Chassorney’s classy chassis was again in evidence. This Pinot is so smooth it rolls on ball bearings, elegant, eloquent and precise.
2007 Le Cousin, Grolleau vieilles vignes, Domaine Cousin-Leduc – Loire
Daddy long legs meets the Corbie the crow. Some wines are so natural that you can feel the earth between their toes. This verges on the, ahem, feral, but it is also packed with good-natured ripe fruit. The wild yeasts clamouring for attention underneath give the wine a raunchy lift.
2007 Cotes du Rhone Pierres Chaudes, Domaine de l’Anglore – Rhone
This blend of old vines Grenache and Clairette is a gem (hot stones indeed), a wine of yin and yang, a Rhone that sings of vines growing in hot fractured soils yet reveals the coolest, purest red fruits, The colour is amazing, it would blush next to a rose, and is reassuringly cloudy (vegan’s delight) being both unfiltered and unfined.
2007 Saint-Joseph Saint-Epine, Domaine Romaneaux-Destezet – Northern Rhone
Domaine Romaneaux-Destezet was created in 1993 by Hervé Souhaut. His holdings on the acidic granite soils of the northern Rhone and the southern Ardèche are a mixture of new and ancient vines—from 50 to100 years old. Hervé Souhaut’s holdings are minuscule, only five hectares and he employs only organic and biodynamic winemaking techniques.
The Saint-Joseph is from a tiny 100 year old plot of Syrah vines. At the end of September, the grapes are harvested and then undergo a very long maceration at a low temperature without destemming. The wine is then matured on the lees in second-hand oak casks for six months and then bottled without being filtered. Cool climate Syrah tends to have very dynamic aromatics and this example is seductively forward in its advances whilst maintaining a lingering veil of mystery. Violets, freshly roasted coffee beans, black cherry, wet stone and vanilla bean all interplay nicely as they gradually unfurl off the rim of the glass. The palate employs many of the same flavours the wine contains on the nose, however, deep black cherry and juicy plum flavours mesh with candied violets and cool strawberry tones dominate. The moderate tannins that gradually crop up on the finish highlight the readily accessible fruity components this stellar Syrah possesses. This wine has the spirit of youth with the gentle certainty of old vine wisdom. Ideal with pigeon, guinea fowl, roast chicken or pork.
2002 Brunello di Montalcino, Il Paradiso di Manfredi – Tuscany
Vin de joie, vin de plaisir, vin d’amour
Il Paradiso di Manfredi today is one of the best expressions of traditional Brunello di Montalcino. Viticulture and vineyard rhythm is effectively biodynamic. Pesticides and weedkillers are eschewed, the waxing and waning of the moon determines activity in the vineyard and the winery. They hand-pick the grapes, the wild ferment takes place in concrete vats ( no temperature control… ) after which the wine spends 36/40 months in big casks of Slavonian oak. Many producers flunked out of the 2002 vintage after heavy rains drowned the vineyards. This estate picked the day before the deluge. Real Sangiovese displaying wicked wild cherry fruit along with notes of herbs, leather, liquorice, pepper and spice and nascent prune, tar and tobacco aromas. It’s so savoury that the food you are thinking of cooks and present itself at the table.
Tasting in Dulwich - Wines of the Islands
WHITES
2007 Grecanico ‘Terre di Giumara’ by Caruso & Minini (Salemi, Sicily)
Interesting wine… concentrated ripe apple fruit, touch of spice, fresh. Long. Seriously good for the money.
2007 Vermentino di Gallura Superiore “Canayli” by CS Gallura (Gallura, Sardegna)
You may not have tried new vintage. As good as ever, lovely tarragon stylee herbiness on the nose, almond and crisp apple flavours on the palate.
2007 Rami Bianco by Cos (Ragusa, Sicily)
Ditto with new vintage? Very good, ultra fresh, very popular amongst Dulwich high society
2004 Leila Vendimia Tardiva by Alberto Loi (Ogliastra, Sardegna)
Described in the trade list but not quoted. 100% Late harvest Grenache red vinified as a white, according to Dario, he should know his Dad is from that village! Funky, aged almost truffly nose, touch of oxidation adding to the complexity of a pretty serious wine. Long finish with a degree of freshness. I really liked it, very Les Caves.
REDS
2006 Cerasuolo di Vittoria by Cos (Ragusa, Sicily)
Unsurprisingly excellent, a great red for elevenses. (nocturnal, matutinal or both elevenses? - Ed)
2003 Cannonau di Sardegna Riserva by Alberto Loi (Ogliastra, Sardegna)
Warm, baked nose, touch of funky reduction but not unpleasant. The oak is obvious but not over powering, interesting but maybe too expensive compared to southern rhone reds at same price?
1999 Ceuso Custera by Azienda Agricola Ceuso (Alcamo, Sicily) in Magnum
Blinding. Still full of life, good dark colour, fresh palate, tannins smoothing out. I think there is one magnum left but 60 btls of 1999.
2005 Faro by Palari (Messina, Sicily)
First time for me. Was expecting much and it really delivered. Complex nose of cherry, spice, undergrowth, coffee.. wine manages to combine power with a delicate touch. Drank rest from the bottle on the train home.
FORTIFIED
NV Marsala Superiore Riserva 10 y.o. by Marco de Bartoli (Marsala, Sicily) 50cl
Who needs Oloroso when you’ve got this beauty? Figgy, touch of toffee and almonds, fresh, complex. Had it with aged pecorino and a Gina Lollobrigida look-a-like…
Framingham update
News from Andrew Hedley at Framingham
Vineyard:
A large portion of our range is now sourced from our company vineyard around the winery (16ha, planted 1981 onwards):
Dry Riesling, Classic Riesling, Select Riesling, Noble Riesling, Gewurztraminer and Pinot Gris are now single-estate wines, and we should add Viognier to that next year (we planted an acre or so a couple of years ago) if conditions allow us to get some fruit. The volumes of all these wines are quite small by new world standards (DR appr 3600 bottles, CR appr 26000 bottles, SR appr 1250 bottles, NR appr 2400 bottles (375), GW appr 2400 bottles, PG appr 10000 bottles) - we have 40 acres of Riesling on the Estate - we are unique in NZ in that we are making 4 distinctly different styles of riesling from the same single estate - add to that the fact that the vines are nearly 30 years old (easily some of the oldest in Marlborough) and you get the picture.
The first thing I did on the latest change of ownership was to secure the re-employment of our viticulturalist who has been with us since 2004. Anton has made some great improvements on the Estate and has steadily been taking the vineyard practices towards being fully organic. The last remaining hurdle for us is the use of pesticides - we have some areas on the estate where we haven’t used them, and are trying to secure an under-vine weeder soon to allow us to go the last mile. The vineyard is certified sustainable and the winery should be early next year. However, we don’t want to promote our wines on these thing especially, it’s more about what’s in the bottle.
New Wines:
We made six nobly sweet wines this year. We have managed to get them into the bottle now and I did a small function with selected media, on-trade and a fine wine retailer to launch them last week. They comprise: Botrytised Viognier 150 bottles, Gewurztraminer Selection de Grains Nobles 400 bottles, the usual Noble Riesling 2500 bottles, and three separate rieslings imaginatively called Auslese #1, 2 and 3. These 3 range in style from an Aulsese GKA (#2), a Beerenauslese (#1) to a pretty much TBA wine (#3). There are only 250 bottles of each of these and we expect to sell them in a gift pack of 3. We made 100 bottles of a table wine Viognier in 2007 which we will sell in gift packs with the botrytised wine from 2008. This may not be a regular thing as the work involved is massive - I need more staff to keep sane if we want to do this more often!
We are also working on an extra, different style of Sauvignon from a relativley new 1 acre planting on the estate, approx 2000 bottles. This wine was wild fermented in old barriques and stainless steel barrels, with some malolactic fermentation and weekly lees stirring - it’s very much about weight and texture. Another add to the single estate range.
As mentioned, we hope to add Viognier to that list next year.
We will also work on a new riesling with emphasis on richness, texture and complexity, rather like the austrian styles or maybe german GG wines - it may be dry (or it may be not) - we have set up part of the vineyard differently in an effort to get more hang time and some really ripe flavours.
Style Development:
Gewurztraminer was 20% wild ferment in 7 year old barrels this year, result is a toned down, slightly drier wine with same texture but more complexity and food friendliness - it has been well received when we have shown it to the trade.
Last year Pinot Gris was 10% wild ferment in old oak and stainless barrels with some mlf on that portion. This year (2008), 20% of the blend has been treated that way with mlf that got further through than last year. This portion has had aging for 6 months on full ferment lees with weekly batonnage. We are blending the wine this week - remaining 80% is tank ferment as usual - the resultant wine has better texture and more complexity and looks really rich on the bench. Bottling beginning december - pretty late for the average NZ style which is usually bottled in July …..
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A few pictures to show: One from a pit we dug in one of the riesling blocks - it illustrates the spoil and how stony the soils are. Another couple are taken inside the pit so you can see the structure - I have been using these at tastings and they seem to go down well and help tell the tale. (These will be on a subsequent post - Ed) There is one in there as well which could answer the question of where the honey flavours come from in Classic Riesling! It was taken this week in a section of the vineyard where we are carrying out “no herbicide” trials. You can see clover there and we wondered if this was an attractant. We are also involved in the sponsorship of a project designed to help increase numbers of the native New Zealand Falcon (called the Falcon Alliance) which is now relatively rare. Part of the plan is to try and establish more falcons around the vineyard as a natural way of bird pest control. Lastly, we have announced a yearly donation to Margaret Stewart House, run by the cancer society in Wellington. They provide accomodation for patients who need radio and chemo therapy. I stayed there when I had mine - I’m pleased we are doing this (obviously). We bought them a big telly this year.
Marlborough has lost the plot a bit recently - the place is awash in cheap sauvignon and is affecting sales etc. The feeling of factory production is getting stronger. We feel that we are most definitely not a typical Marlborough winery any more.
Granato - a pickled peck of Parker points
RATING: 94 points
PRODUCER: Foradori
FROM: Trentino, Trentino Alto
Adige, Italy
VARIETY: Teroldego
DRINK: 2010 - 2021
ESTIMATED COST: $46
SOURCE: WA, #179
Oct 2008
The 2006 Granato further establishes Foradori as one of
Italy’s premier winemakers. This is a stunning red from start
to finish. The wine bursts onto the palate with a neverending
kaleidoscope of dried roses, spices, pomegranate
and raspberries. This medium to full-bodied Granato
possesses stunning balance and finessed, elegant tannins
that caress the palate with notable elegance.
Anticipated maturity: 2010-2021.
Once again I was blown away by Elisabetta Foradori’s
Granato. Why is she the only producer in Trentino capable
of making a wine like this? The region, and Italy, for that
matter, could use another 100 producers with this level of
ambition.
Antonio Galloni
Gravillas album
Marcillac Le Vieux Porche
2006 Marcillac Cuvee Lairis, Jean-Luc Matha
Purple red colour, nose of ripe cranberry fruit, morello cherry and graphite with a whiff of leather and undergrowth. Savoury, peppery fruit with loads of minerality and a positively bouncy finish. Devastatingly easy to drink this is now a notch above the Lo Sang del Pais. We had it with grilled lamb chops with garlic and rosemary.
My First Wine Epiphany
My early wine experience was minuscule and fragmentary. When I was young my dad used to haunt Oddbins, Peter Dominic and Augustus Barnett and, after furrowed browsing and diligent cross-examination of staff, he would come back armed with liquid bounty. To this day I haven’t a clue what he bought: Rioja sticks in the memory and the graceful military bearing of the claret bottles comes to mind. At dinner as a special treat I was given a mouthful at the end of the bottle (as often as not a chug of sediment). I do recall the warming wood-burnished Spanish wines, all sweet and tawny and comforting as a bonfire of autumn leaves, and the dusty tannins of Bordeaux…
I had this vague idea that wine was “a good thing” and associated with maturity, and that one needed to be inducted into its wise mysteries much as a mason would have to undergo an arcane initiation process. At university my college was renowned for the length and breadth of its port and madeira collection which was housed in cellars that were located beneath the main quad ("To which University,’ said a lady, some time since, to the late sagacious Dr. Warren, ‘shall I send my son?’ ‘Madam,’ replied he, ‘they drink, I believe, near the same quantity of Port in each of them.’’) Each new student was invited by the dean, junior dean and master of the college to a succession of lavish repasts and plied with all manner of vinous delights. Not that any of us cared, quantity was preferable to quality and our objective was to attain a state of stark insensibility as rapidly as possible.
My first wine decision arose when I was a member of the Dr Johnson literary society named after the eponymous 18th century man of letters. The committee of said society invited one Melvyn Bragg to speak and prior to his singing retrospectively for his supper we took him out to a cheapo Italian restaurant on the Cornmarket. In a display of largesse I grabbed the wine list (a laminated card of 6 whites and 6 reds) and uttered with monumental authority the immortal words Frascati, por favor. The waiter gorgonised me from head to toe and scornfully poured this collegiate ignoramus a taster of coruscating acidity and stood well back while my nose dropped off. Excellent, I gasped, tears of pain running down my face.
My next memory was taking my mum out for her birthday to a Michelin starred restaurant in Charlotte Street. The sommelier, for it was he, proffered a leathered bound tome in an appropriately sepulchral manner, appropriate because the restaurant felt as if it has been decked out like the inside of a funeral casket. I was briefly reminded of my favourite literary vignette of wine one-upmanship. “The butler returned with a huge album bound in crocodile leather. “ ‘You are looking at the binding, I notice’, said the host. It is the skin of a crocodile I shot myself in the Nile’ ”. (Jazz and Jasper by William Gerhardie - 1927). I opened the volume and flicked through the vellum. It was written in Linear B or at least couched in a language with which I was entirely unfamiliar and next to the hieroglyphic digest was a list of telephone numbers. I knew the score (or the four score and ten). You close your eyes, point to a wine three or four from the top (not house, not second wine down – too obvious), because you’ve seemingly cunningly spotted an elusive bargain nestling in the under £40s. The sommelier looked at where my finger was pointing and murmured: Excellent choice, monsieur. I could have kissed him; it was a heroic, ego-inflating white lie, it was politeness sculpted out of heady Michelin miasma of our surroundings. And do you know… the wine tasted jolly good, un vrai vin de complicité, as if I had made the bloody thing myself or had hit the jackpot by placing all my money on one spin of the roulette wheel.
Surviving such ordeals may have given a temporary boost to my armour-propre, but I had still not really tasted wine, only dealt with the nuances of social embarrassment.
This is the moment which I call epiphany. First we recognise that the object is one integral thing, then we recognise that it is an organised composite structure, a thing in fact: finally, when the relation of the parts is exquisite, when the parts are adjusted to the special point, we recognise that it is that thing which it is. Its soul, its whatness, leaps to us from the vestment of its appearance. The soul of the commonest object, the structure of which is so adjusted, seems to us radiant. The object achieves its epiphany.
Stephen Hero – James Joyce
My mother and I took all our holidays on the (Outer) Hebridean island of Harris where we had a holiday cottage. We shopped for groceries in the local village where you could buy bread, UHT milk, mutton and as many potatoes as you could shake a hoe at. Alcohol was another matter for Harris was a wine free zone (it was a wee free zone), and to buy anything resembling fermented grape juice we had to make a 100 mile round trip to Stornoway in Lewis to shop at the co-op and purchase litre bottles of Hirondelle. The only wheel in town, this swallow made our summer and we guzzled it by bucketload as though it was the tastiest vin de terroir. Harris was also hitherto a gastronomic vacuum, until one day Alison and Andrew Johnson, a young couple from England, bought a ruined Georgian manse on the west side of the island, converted it into a hotel and thus begat Scarista House. News travels particularly fast on a small island and, as avid readers of the Good Book (the Good Food Guide) and since we subsisted for almost two months on a diet of mutton stew, mutton curry and hangtown fry washed down with the beakers of the swallow or Tennent’s lager, my mum and I couldn’t wait to beat a slavering path to its door.
The day we visited Scarista was a night in late August. I can’t remember a single thing about the meal other than my mum being immersed in the wine list and mumbling something about Saint-Estèphes - or was it Saint-Juliens? These were words I had heard before and I knew they betokened the kind of serious wines that my father used to bring home (ie wines that had a cork and not a screwcap). Having conferred with the owner of the hotel (grown up conversation) she reached a decision and whichever holiest of holies it was, was duly presented. Again, fuzzily naive, I didn’t pay too much attention – to use the words of a former president “I didn’t inhale”. Mindful of the journey back to our side of the island we only assayed a couple of glasses (but we were allowed to cork the bottle and take it back with us) but I gathered from my mum’s cooing (or was it purring) that the wine was à point which alerted me to the fact that I should be trying to appreciate it. To me, however, wine was objective ritual rather than personal romance – I couldn’t make the leap of understanding.
We drove back to our side of the island and emerged from the car under a vivid night sky hotching with stars; the effect was of galaxies carelessly smeared against a grey-black canvas and the more you looked the bigger the universe appeared - almost as if was bulging at the seams.
My mum handed me the wine bottle and I took a pull. The ruby wine cascaded into my mouth and I rolled it around sensing its caress. I didn’t have the language; this is perhaps what makes the experience special, because I was trying to make inchoate sense out of kaleidoscopic shapes and textures. I recall leather, olives, herbs, graphite - and pure warmth, God in velvet trousers. There was a beautiful seasoned woodiness, as if fine-grained wood had assumed liquid form. The deliciousness was exhilarating; I felt different senses being connected for the first time; I was conscious of primary and secondary aromas, of texture and subtlety.
Epiphanies form a perpetual bridge between the past and present. I just have to think of the wine and the sensations come rushing back. It is not that the wine was necessarily stellar (even if the sky was!), it is that experience can be utterly transformed by context and also state of mind. I was young enough to be innocent and therefore entirely receptive, yet old enough to absorb what was going on and take pleasure in the experience. Starstruck, I necked from the bottle, felt the wine on my pulses and apprehended my surroundings. I was at the gate where the path snaked down to our house; the stegosaurus humpback of northern Harris loomed in front of me, the familiar mountains lowering and silent seemed like a giant audience. The bay sparkled under the moon, the sea was as unruffled silk, the air was soft and sweet, perfumed with heather, bracken and salt. I looked up at the firmament of stars, firstly it seemed to be composed of countless pinpoints of light and then constellations took shape and then, as I looked more intently, I seemed to be sucked into an infinity of possibilities. Another swig brought me back to earth… I felt rooted. It seemed the sky was vibrating, some of the points of light were moving, the wine was coursing into my blood, filling my mind…
Oh bliss! Bliss and heaven! Oh, it was gorgeousness and gorgeousity made flesh. It was like a bird of rarest-spun heaven metal or like silvery wine flowing in a spaceship, gravity all nonsense now. As I slooshied, I knew such lovely pictures!
Clockwork Orange – Anthony Burgess
This was the perfect luminous moment, a kind of peace dropping still, when I felt centred in a beautiful location beneath a jewelled sky and the heavens alive with movement. Past, present and future came together in an instant. I walked along the rough path towards our cottage taking further bee-sips. So this was wine, a liquid that could encode the beauty of nature itself in one’s living memory. And the quality of the wine was its capacity to provoke an intimate personal response. An epiphany occurs when a heightened personal response to an event can be translated into an aesthetic apprehension of said event through art, or poetry or music. The name of the wine is a conduit or a key that unlocks the past and serves to recreate the very flavour of that formative experience.
And the wine? Chateau Talbot 1978.
Game for a laugh - Great meat and fish in Corrigan’s new restaurant
Richard Corrigan has opened a new restaurant in Mayfair. Conjoined to (but not part of) the Grosvenor Hotel, and with a separate entrance, this will be his flagship enterprise.
From the moment you enter there is an air of calm professionalism and service veritably runs on ball bearings. A long bar with high backed chairs stretches parallel to the street. The restaurant itself describes an L-shape with big comfortable banquettes and chairs for the well, ahem, upholstered man or woman. The room is clean lined, atmospherically lit, but not too fussy or ostentatious and at one end there is relief with outlines of game birds to break up the monotony of the walls. In addition to the main room there is a large private dining room and a chef’s table which can seat about fourteen covers.
The menu is well-conceived and brilliantly priced. Starters include comfort food such as native oysters or herring and some Corrigan classics such as langoustines with spiced chicken peas and fried oyster with chorizo, fennel and apple. There are refreshing dishes: we had octopus carpaccio with clementines and nibbed almonds and heartier options; crubeens, beetroot and horseradish or ox tongue, cauliflower, Reform sauce or suckling pig sausage, oyster and duck tongue (the ultimate riff on surf-and-turf). Amongst the fish you may find John Dory consorting with Jerusalem artichokes, steamed fillet of sole with ceps or crumbed plaice with clams and whelk. Other than turbot (£24) all the fish are below £20. The choice of meat and game would bring a warm glow to a carnivore’s heart. Poached pheasant, chestnut, bacon and game toast sets the seasonal theme, taken up by grouse pie (with those pesky ceps), roe venison in pastry, saddle of hare accompanied by roast pumpkin and sprout tops, roast partridge, bread sauce, sprouts and bacon. There is also daube of pork, salt marsh lamb and fillet of beef on the bone with snails (turf and snurf) and, in case you are not getting your autumnal jollies, reassuring side orders of celeriac chips cooked in goose fat, roasted roots, buttered kale and - fanfare please - a bowl of ceps. Cepsimus maximus!
It’s not quite as simple as home on the farm and out with the poachers. The food is beautifully presented and the many of the dishes we tried were quite intricate in the manner in which the main ingredient had been deconstructed and then rebuilt. Portions are just right. It is comfort food with a modern twist and superbly and sympathetically rendered with intensely flavoured humble ingredients sharing a plate with the beasts of the field and the denizens of the deep (and sometimes all together).
The wine list, a joint effort between head sommelier Andrea Briccarello and myself, has personality and offers exciting drinking. Several themes emerged as we were working on it. Firstly, we wanted to link the terroir of the food to the wine and remark on the nature of the artisan grower or farmer. Part of this involved suggesting sympathetic food and wine pairings (without proselytising or being too schematic) and part involved highlighting the sustainable, organic and biodynamic credentials of the growers we had selected. These were pure, highly eloquent, often quite subtle wines, not marred by heavy oak treatment or over-extraction. They were chosen to dance with the food
See the wine list here (in Acrobat PDF format)
Corrigan in Mayfair will become a London institution. It is a special place and you are made to feel special. The food is brilliant and yet offers extremely good value (obviously very important in these straitened times). And you might enjoy the odd Caves de Pyrene wine there – never a hardship, surely?
Corrigan’s Mayfair
28 Upper Grosvenor Street,
Mayfair,
London,
W1K 7PF
Dario’s Tutored Tasting of Sicilian Wines at Orrery Epicerie
If you don’t know your Marsala from your elbow and you think Zibibbo is a character in the Magic Roundabout read on…
De Bartoli, Marsala Riserva 10yo NV
6 mths aged Grillo based solera topped up with a “mistellla” mix of Inzolia and Inzolia brandy
Rich nutty and fruity notes, good acidity and mouth filling, nutty and lemony notes continue on the palate with a dry to off dry finish.
Matched with: Gorgonzola cheese canapes
De Bartoli, Zibibbo “Pietra Nera” 2007
100% Zibibbo (aka Muscat of Alexandria), aged 6 months in new and old barrels
The best showing wine of the evening, vibrant and fresh version of Muscat, very well balanced body, notes of ripe agrumes and white pepper, balanced by good acids and minerals. It would be a great aperitif too. Far superior to the 06.
Matched with: Smoked salmon with rosemary
COS, Cerasulo di Vittoria Classico 2006
70% Frappato, 30% Nero d’Avola, aged in terraotta amphores and big old barrels for 18 months
The usual phenomenal stuff…
Floral notes of violets and roses, slightly reductive but fine nose (we decanted it), fresh on the palate, sweet and firm tannins, some nice minerals, very pleasant to drink. Worth serving at 15C.
Matched with: the whole range of previously mentioned foods, as well as vegetables.
COS, Nero d’Avola Syre 2003
100% Nero d’Avola, aged 2 years in barrels
Ripe cherry and plummy notes, impenetrable colour, very rich but sweet tannins, a bit closed on the nose, worth ageing it for some more time.
Matched with: aubergines, oil and cherry tomatoes
Palari, Faro 2005
50% Nerello Mascalese, 45% Nerello Cappuccio, 5% Nocera (don’t trust me for the %)
Very young, maybe too young. This is not at all a fruit-wine: notes of undergrowth, liquorice, leather and aromatic herbs and spice. Rich body and rich acidity.
Matched with: meat and pastry rolls
De Bartoli, Passito di Pantelleria “Bukkuram” 05
100% Zibibbo, half of it picked up and dried on little casks in early August (to bring acidity), half harvested late Aug-early Sep to bring more sugar.
Deep golden colour, almost amber. A rich spectrum of flavours on the nose: ripe raisins, figs, aromatic herbs, flowers… Imagine yourself in a luscious harem full of pleasures.
The nose continues on the palate with the same impressions, enriched by a good acidity that helps the drinkability.
This 05 is just fantastic; a great wine!
Tim tastes in Cornwall
Guy Allion Touraine Sauvignon –less pungent than earlier bottlings, but has gained weight and richness on the palate. Ripe with melon, peach and with a full, textural palate. Impressive stuff
Mourgues du Gres Les Galets Dores Blanc – Hazelnut, bread, preserved lemon, stone fruit, peach – superb complexity (and balance) for the price
Chateau Tour des Cuvee de Conti, Bergerac – restrained nose, seems like the muscadelle element is retreating, but fantastic on the palate – rich, becoming almost honeyed, with fennel, herbs, just oily enough and a nice cut of acid
Jurancon sec, Clos Lapeyre – white flowers, green herbs, saline edge, tangy, teeth rattling acidity, lean, still young
Domaine Cros Tradition, Minervois – the wine of the tasting for me – this “put me on my arse” as Eric would say – earthy, animal, gamey, full of cloves, mulled spice, sweet herbs, tannins grippy but supple and just rustic enough – stunning
CDR Cuvee Mathilde – absolutely charming, fresh, juicy, white pepper & raspberries, soft tannins, this would be excellent slightly chilled
Madregale Bianco – peachy, honeysuckle, satsuma, very attractive nose, just off dry, fresh acid, touch of peach skin texture, clean finish – really very good for the money
Madregale Rosso – less good, alas. Some bitter cherry and chocolate, little character, although a surprisingly pleasant finish
Frentana Montepulciano – This is more like it! Plum, dark chocolate, spice – light to med body, natural tasting, nice bitter coffee finish. VG
Morellino di Scansano Bellamarsilia – quite a mouthful! Liquor cherry, espresso and cream (from the new oak), mid weight but plush and polished, fresh acid to balance – quite tarty, but delicious
COS Nero de Lupo – amazing fragrance, really aromatic, light to med body, not concentrated, but intense, crisp and attacking on the palate, juicy, edgy, nervous, fresh and utterly delightful
Salentein Malbec – this got the public vote as wine of the night – intense and perfumed nose, damsons, violets, mint – on the palate it tastes like its had a bar of galaxy chocolate melted into it, velvet tannins, sweet, ripe fruit, rich, hedonistic texture. Mucho bang for buck (as they don’t say in Argentina)
Framingham Sauvignon – displaying a good balance between the green, herbaceous notes and the riper, tropical flavours, with enough cats pee and gooseberry to flag up its origin. VG for its style
Ancienne Cure Monbazillac – runny honey texture, candy fruit, orange tangerine, fresh and balanced, totally charming and delicious
Rosso di Montalcino Pian dell’ Orino
This estate is adjacent to the Biondi Santi property and the area has a long history of being particularly suited for growing grapes for high quality wines. “Our love for Tuscany and passion for viticulture binds us particularly to this land, our vines and the resulting wines”. The wines come from four different vineyards that add up to a total area of six hectares.
Right from the beginning Caroline Pobitzer and Jan Hendrik Erbach studied the soil and the structure of each vineyard in order to fully understand its characteristics. Fossils, petrified shells and chalk sediment all testify to the earth’s evolutions and recount marine flooding and periods of drought in the area.
To preserve the special identity of their vineyards they assiduously follow organic practises. Farming is only organic if it respects and protects the complex correlations and the equilibrium of a habitat. From the start the goal is to create and sustain the maximum harmony possible between vineyard, climate, soil and mankind. They encapsulate their philosophy thus: “Energy has great importance in the organisation of our daily work. In particular the phases of the moon – which affect nature and the life of all creatures, regulate growth and reinforce quality – are an important point of reference on our decision making. Our vines have never been treated with herbicides, chemical pesticides, insecticides or soluble mineral fertilisers. Their immune system is reinforced by special infusions that we make with nettles, equisetum and yarrow and biodynamic preparations. We use propolis to protect the vine from infections caused by fungi and bacteria. We plant many kinds of grasses, including aromatic varieties, in order to encourage biodiversity, maintain the contents of the humus and improve the soil structure. In our vineyards bees and butterflies have an infinite choice of beautiful flowers.
“Our goal is to fully understand the diverse characteristics of the vineyards that we cultivate. To this end we separate the grapes picked from each vineyard during the vinification in order to make separate wines. The work we do in the vineyards is an important way of getting to know the vines themselves at close hand. “Our shared mother is the land that nourishes us, and together we grow with what she offers” (Béla Hamvas).
“We are very attached to the land on which our vineyards grow. The soil itself gives us strength and inspires us to respect nature and the environment. The grapes are pruned between flowering and their changing colour, leaving no more than four bunches per vine. Before the harvest, the grapes are controlled once again on the vine in order to eliminate any single grape that is mouldy due to meteorological conditions or imperfect in any way. This same control is repeated throughout the harvest.”
Bravo, you may say and you would be correct. The mature and carefully selected grapes are picked by hand and taken to the cellar in crates that contain only twenty kilos each. The final selection takes place on a large table, before the grapes are placed in the de-stemmer and, at last, into the barrels for vinification.
The fermentation at Pian dell’Orino is induced by naturally occurring yeasts from the grape skins. Spontaneous fermentation starts between one and three days from the harvest, depending on the vintage. No extra yeasts, no industrial enzymes or further additives are used.
The Rosso di Montalcino is made from pure Sangiovese Grosso. The grapes are selected in the same way as for the Brunello di Montalcino. The difference is found in the wine-making. Spontaneous fermentation starts after one or two days of maceration. The temperature is automatically controlled so that it does not exceed 30°C. The must macerates for two or three weeks, depending on the vintage, in order to obtain mainly fruity flavours and finesse. Once fermentation has concluded, the wine is transferred to barriques and small 500-litre barrels, where the malolactic fermentation takes place. After maturing for one year in the barrels, the wine is bottled and kept in the cellar for another three months. Beautiful wine. Restrained, almost poised nose, then supremely elegant with vivid red and black fruits underpinned by vibrant minerality. This wine makes my spirit soar.
The Winery of Good Hope Platter 2009 ratings
“There’s always something happening at this up-and-at-’em Helderberg winery.”
“Stylish & strikingly individual.”
“More Old World styling than New…”
“Exotic, individual & compelling”
RATINGS 2009 PLATTER GUIDE :
***** Superlative. A Cape classic
****½ Outstanding
**** Excellent
***½ Very good/promising
*** Characterful, appealing
**½ Good everyday drinking
** Pleasant drinking
*½ Casual quaffing
* Plain and simple
½ Very ordinary
No Star Somewhat less than ordinary
Radford Dale range
**** Merlot 2005
Admired as template of varietal’s potential: violet & blackcurrant perfume, black pep per & scrub shading to the fine-grained tannins. Nudges next level.
****½ Freedom Pinot Noir 2007
Celebrates Dale’s ‘escape from French bureaucracy’, 1994 arrival in changed SA. labour of love, only 47 cs. Layers of complexity: cherries, organic notes, cedar spicing; classic styling revealed in balance, sinuous elegance.
**** Shiraz 2006
Back on form, lovely espresso, black plums, ground pep per notes, captured within a silky, juicy structure that makes it pure drinking plea sure. Good cellaring potential. Unfined/filtered. 14 months mainly French, 40% new.
***** Gravity 2005
Varying blend flag ship red, shiraz-dominant in 05 (»). Wonderfully perfumed, but power under the seductive appeal, good tannin back bone for a long, rewarding evolution.
**** Shiraz-Viognier 2006
Co-fermentation, accounting for integration, harmony. Has smoky dark tones of full-ripe fruit; viognier adds aromatic intrigue, a lifting floral note. Smooth textured from careful oaking, already delicious.
**** Shiraz-Merlot 2006
Owed more to shiraz than merlot in youth; moorland scrub, brambleberries, pepper dusting, with firm tannins busy melding when sampled. Well constructed, great potential.
****½ Chardonnay 2006
Meticulous vineyard selection & cellar care. Trade mark deep-seated peach & citrus intensity in intro but the palate is what distinguishes this chardonnay: a fine-boned Burgundian savouriness.
****½ Viognier 2007
Shows even better than previously, more Old World than New. Lavender, pronounced peach pip, an earthy minerality throughout. Stylish & strikingly individual. Rhône yeasts, Burg barrels. Only 190 cs.
****½ Natural Sweet Viognier 2007
Pineapple-scented barley sugar, with an intriguing lavender nose, assaults the senses; mouth-coating richness, satin texture, ultra long finish. Serve well-chilled, only to your closest friends: a mere 190 x 500ml bottles made.
Black Rock range
****½ Red Blend 2006
Soutern-Rhône-inspired exotic blend, individual & compelling. Shiraz-led, violets, dried herbs, campfire smoke & crushed blue berries. The trademark lithe tannins welcome participation.
WO Swartland for this range.
**** White Blend 2007
Majority blend 40+ yr old chenin. Rest chardonnay, dab viognier; oak plays role, roasted nuts, toasted brioche, but lime/melon flavours stand their ground. Showy & well put together; sum greater than parts.
Vinum range
**** Cabernet Sauvignon 2006
More restrained vintage than 05 but no less fine, 06 has creamy red fruit, integrated oak; 15 months barrel regime & cab’s class showing in svelte lines, white pepper/dried herb notes. Complex yet accessible; will reward cellaring.
**** Chenin Blanc 2007
From old Helderberg bushvines. Intense citrus with additional earthy, savoury note on finish. Satisfyingly full-bodied, excellent texture & length from 9 months lees-ageing. Could go 3/4 yrs.
The Winery of Good Hope range
*** Pinot Noir 2007
Classic styling, farmyard notes, juicy berries, light texture. For drinking rather than keeping. WO W Cape.
***½ Pinotage 2007 √
An individual take on the varietal. Savoury spice, meaty nuances to dark fruit, dry tannins geared for food. More Old World styling than New.
***½ Shiraz 2007 √
Fruit-focused & bargain-priced, generously constructed; curvaceous & smooth, layers of interest supplied by smoky oak, a wild scrub nuance. Admirable.
*** Granite Ridge Reserve 2006
Shiraz, cab, merlot blend. Smooth-textured charmer: black pepper, smoked beef nuances to plummy fruit, aromatic lift from dash of viognier.
*** Chardonnay 2007
Unoaked chardonnay with character. Deepened peach & tropical tones, fresh-fruity mouthfeel.
***½ Chenin Blanc 2008 √
Melon & tropical fruit, good palate weight, trade mark zesty fresh ness. Appetising & eminently food-friendly.
***½ Chardonnay-Chenin Blanc-Viognier 2007 √
Changing proportion in 07, chardonnay’s lead strengthens nutty oak & peach aspects, giving fuller flavours, more enjoyment. Swartland WO.
New World range
*** Cabernet Sauvignon-Merlot 2007
Smooth & stream lined; 07 combo black cherry fruit & smoky spicing for tasty drinkability.
Terras Gauda Poster Competition
Every year Bodegas Terras Gauda holds a competition to decide their advertising poster design to be used for the next year, there were more than 1400 entries from 62 countries and this year the winner was Taber Calderon from the US with a naif inspired proposal - Here is the winning entry.
The complete list of winners and works are available in the following link.
http://www.franciscomantecon.com/2008/ing/galeria.html
Short and sweet tasting at Sartoria
LES CAVES DE PYRENE - TASTING AT SARTORIA
One person’s heresy is another’s orthodoxy
WHITES
2007 Zibibbo Integrale, Marco de Bartoli – Sicily (organic)
Zibibbo aka Muscat of Alexandria flourishes on the remote black volcanic plug of Pantelleria which is marooned between Sicily and the north coast of Africa. Battered by coruscating hot winds the island is home to low trained vines that yield the most fragrant, muscat-scented grapes. Integrale is a project pioneered by the de Bartoli family who have been experimenting with organic viticulture and low sulphur. (The other wines in this range include a Grecanico and a Grillo). Here the Zibibbo is harvested in early-to-mid August to capture the acidity in the grapes (the variety can be flabby and prone to maderisation without this vital component). The colour is clear lemon yellow, the nose is pretty - white flowers and orange blossom – but totally without confection. The wine slips delicately onto the tongue, teasing with citrus and mandarin and white grape essence, fills the mid palate, but, instead of dispersing as Mu-scatty wines are wont to do, it leaves a flickering smokiness to remember it by.
1997 Marche Bianco, San Lorenzo – Marche (biodynamic)
Most Verdicchio occupies a netherworld of neutrality inhabited by cheap Gavi, Soave and egregious Pinot Grigio. The subzone of Matelica, however, has a concentration of good small growers. In Castelli di Jesi there are also some highly regarded operators who try to lift the quality - one thinks of Bucci, for example. And then, perched the outermost twig of the biodynamic monkey puzzle tree, is Natalino Crognaletti who does nothing by halves – or any other fraction you care to name. His normal wines have extraordinary cut and thrust; he also makes special cuvees, vats of wine which brood quietly in the cellar acquiring intensity and concentration by remaining in contact with the wild yeasts. Bottled ten years after the vintage our youth is gawky and angular, shyly revealing linear minerality beneath a surface of pared apples and hazelnut shavings. There seems to be some oak here, old, seasoned wood. The austerity slow melts and secondary flavours emerge; texturally, the Verdicchio fleshes out, the leesiness becomes a recognizable spicy seasoning and, go with me on this, a suggestion of white truffle lurks in the background.
2006 Massa Vecchia Maremma Bianco IGT Toscana – Tuscany (biodynamic)
Massa Vecchia is instrumental in the Vini Veri, a group of growers linked by a common organic manifesto, and an urge to produce natural wines that reflect their respective regions, cultures and traditions. Natural viticulture in the vineyard is the watchword – no chemicals here – and minimal handling in the winery. The Bianco, as it is familiarly known, is a blend of Vermentino (around 60%) with some Malvasia, Ansonica and Trebbiano. One cannot fail to remark the colour; it is honey-hued and holds the light, one swirl shows the glycerol. The grapes are pressed by foot twice a day for five days kept in contact with their skins for thirty day to discover more flavour, extract and structure. What a nose! Apple blossom mingled with orange rose and jasmine booms out of the glass, the wine enters the mouth and seems dry (from the extract) and sweet (from the aromas) at the same time. Dried fruits, apricots, peach-skin, wild herbs, then a waft of sweet chestnuts –no coincidence as the Massa Vecchia Bianco is matured in barrels made of chestnut.
2006 Jakot IGT Vino Bianco, Dario Princic – Friuli (biodynamic)
Some wines are beautiful enough that you can explore them aesthetically rather than reduce them to integers of flavour. (The Massa Vecchia above is a similar example). Princic believes in delivering what nature delivers him – here the beautifully ripe, healthy grapes from biodynamically tended vineyards come into the winery (traditional fermentation vessels here) and undergo fermentation with natural yeasts. Punch downs and skin maceration account for the delicate amber colour. The nose is understated – apricot kernels, butternut and warm spice (ginger). The wine is smooth and marrow-like in the mouth edged with wild herbs, beautifully fugitive. Jakot? Tocai – forgivable persiflage. With the Hungarians causing a Furmint about the trademarking of Tokaji this delicious natural wine is a cheeky reminder to those Magyar putzes that you can take away the name but you can’t take away the identity.
2007 Assyrtiko Cuvée 15, Hatzidakis, Santorini (organic)
Assertive Assytriko displaying vulcanicity of the Santorinian terrain. There’s a sentence I never thought I would write. Old vines (although calling them vines might be an exaggeration) meets new soil (calling it soil might be an exaggeration). Santorini is a small island covered in ash and pumice and some of the oldest vines in the world. These are delightfully trained in bird’s nest configurations greedily sucking the moisture that rolls in on the early morning mists. The yields are naturally minuscule: 10-12hl/ha is customary. Hatzidakis makes some of the purest expressions of the Assyrtiko grape. The nose is lemon zest grated over pumice (or perhaps with pumice!) then the wine hits you, at once powerful and phenomenally acidic, like biting alternately into a salt lemon and then a crunchy apple. It’s not mean, it is lifted with some balsamic notes and the wonderful minerality ties the wild parcel together. Epatant!
2000 Arbois Savagnin Blanc Ouillé, Domaine Houillon – Arbois (organic)
Savagnin sous lie from an organic grower. The wine acquires sherry-style nourishment from the yeasts and reveals all the concomitant nutty/dry spicy notes that you might expect. Here be aromas to get all seekers-after-and-snapper-uppers-of-considerable-trifles to whiffle keenly. Combine bruised apple and yellow plum, add melting butter, fenugreek, walnut, and finish with an electric charge of withering acidity. The intensity of the wine is balanced by its freshness. Poulet cooked with wine of similar complexion and served with as many morels as you can afford would be a condign match.
2006 Montlouis sec Volagré, Stephane Cossais – Loire (organic)
Context is everything. After a run of jiggery-pokery jejune vinjaunery the soothing honeyed tones of Chenin are balm to the palate. Cossais was influenced to experiment with Chenin when he tasted the wines of Foucault. “Je suis convaincu que ce cépage peut produire de grands vins blancs secs, capables de rivaliser en richesse et en complexité avec les grands Bourgognes. Mon souhait est de produire un grand vin blanc qui soit une reference”. The initial nose of white flowers gives way to fleshier parts of such fruits as quince, apple and pear with a suggestion of fig, honey and cinnamon. Chenin is vintage sensitive and the extra acidity of the 06 brings balance and confers length to the wine. The harmony between fruit and oak reminds one of Burgundy and this Montlouis has the structure and complexity of a great Beaune wine.
Vintage Darroze tasting notes
DARROZE TASTING NOTES
RESERVE DARROZE “10 ans d’Age”
A blended Bas Armagnac, of which the youngest eau-de-vie is 10 years old (the other ones are 12 & 13 years old). Fruit (fig, quince, dried apricots) and spicy (vanilla, cloves) aromas are dominant. Long finish for such a young armagnac.
1995 DOMAINE AU MARTIN à Hontanx
Gold with darker tints. The nose is fine and racy. Some vanilla, cinnamon and gingerbread flavours dominate the fruits. On the palate, the tannins are silky and round. At the end, the spicy flavours (pepper, cloves) remind that this armagnac is still young.
1992 DOMAINE DE POUNON à Labastide d’Armagnac
Nice golden colour, intense, with brown tints. We feel some fruity flavours, some vanilla and liquorice. Intense and complex. On the palate, the tannins are very delicate. The balance between tannins, aromas and alcohol is perfect. Very long.
1990 DOMAINE DE RIESTON à Perquie
Nice golden colour, with darker tints. The nose is pungent, and needs air. The roasted flavours, white chocolate flavours, spices and fruits (quince, fig) fill out with aeration. Very intense nose. The palate is rich and complex. Oaky flavours are dominant (liquorice, vanilla). Long finish.
1989 DOMAINE DE BERTRUC au Frêche
Nice golden colour with amber tints. The nose is fine and distinguished. Dry fruit flavours (almond, fig, prune) and roasted aromas (toast, tobacco). Soft attack with round and fine tannins on the palate. We feel some preserved fruits like apricot, orange peel and fig.
1987 DOMAINE DE JOUANCHICOT à Mauléon d’Armagnac
Golden colour, little intense. Yellow tints. The nose is very elegant. Sreome fruity aromas, very typical for an armagnac of this age: apricot, figs, citrus. Secondary notes of vanilla. On the palate, the tannins are fine. We can feel again some fruity flavours. Long finish.
1986 DOMAINE AU DURRE à Saint Gein
Golden colour with darker tints. The nose is pungent, with some typical taste for an armagnac of its age. The fruit is dominant (macerated prune), the spicy flavours follow (cloves, pepper). On the palate, the attack is full and rich. Aromatic explosion of spices, torrefaction and fruits. High quality of tannins, silky and rich. Superb potential.
1981 DOMAINE AU MARTIN à Hontanx
Yellow gold colour. Interesting, complex nose. Fine, smoky aromas with notes of dried fruit. Wood can be felt on the palate: evident tannins show that this Armagnac is wild.
1977 DOMAINE DE PEYROT à St Christie d’Armagnac
Nice golden colour with brown tints. The nose is delicate and fresh. The distinguished oaky flavours (lime blossom, acacia, pepper, liquorice) appear with rancio and truffle notes. On the palate, the tannins are silky and delicate. We find again the same flavours as those found in the nose. The end is long and shows evolution (madeira, walnut)
1972 CHATEAU DE GAUBE à Perquie
Golden yellow colour, with darker tints. The nose is very expressive, with a lot of different flavours : dry figs, prune, apricot, walnuts. On the palate, the tannins quality is superb. A high quality rancio character shows that the ageing conditions were perfect.
1970 DOMAINE AUX DUCS au Bourdalat
Golden colour, quite intense. Red tints. On the nose, we can feel that this armagnac still has a nice future. The first nose is fresh and pungent. After aeration the flavours are matured and mellow. On the palate, the tannins are incredibly fine and silky. At the end, very nice flavours of ‘rancio’ (like in old ports).
1966 CHATEAU DE GAUBE à Perquie
Light chestnut colour with golden tints. Strict but elegant nose. Oaky and earthy flavours (like mushrooms) as well as dried fruit and coffee aftersmell. Very expressive and powerful on the palate, spicy (white pepper). Rancio notes. Very long finish.
1965 DOMAINE DE PEYROT à Ste Christie d’Armagnac
The nose is very complex. We find some matured flavours like walnuts, nuts, leather as well as fruity aromas (dry apricot, prune) and after aeration a menthol note. On the palate, the attack is soft, with delicate tannins. We feel again the same flavours than those found in the nose. Medium long finish.
1962 CHATEAU DE GAUBE à Perquie
Light chestnut colour with golden tints. The nose is very expressive, almost pungent. Some oaky and fruity flavours dominate. On the palate, the quality of tannins is exceptional.
1951 CHATEAU DE LASSERRADE à Lasserrade (Appellation Armagnac Contrôlée)
Golden colour with brown tinges. The nose is fresh and pungent. After airing, the balance is perfect, showing orange peel, prune and quince. On the palate, the tannins are round. Leather, coffee aromas dominate the fruity flavours. Very long finish.
1945 CHATEAU DE LASSERRADE à Lasserrade (Appellation Armagnac Contrôlée)
Golden colour, with mahogany tinge. Very fine oaky flavours on the nose : toasted bread and vanilla notes dominate. Some menthol notes on the second aromatics. On the palate, the flavours are very different: rancio, leather, spices. Long finish.
1936 DOMAINE DE PEYROT à Ste Christie d’Armagnac
Brilliant chestnut with golden tinges. Pungent nose, still fresh, elegant and fine. Despite the old age, the fruit aromas still dominate. The attack on the palate is fascinating : soft, clean, and a little bit lively. Fruity character, but spices dominate the finish (with notes of pepper, cinnamon and liquorice). Very long.
Red Selection from our tasting at Sartoria
Erotica is a feather, pornography is using the whole chicken – Isabel Allende
2004 Sacrisassi Rosso, Le Due Terre - Friuli
Silvana Forte and Flavio Basilicata established the estate in 1984 with the idea of producing wines with both tradition and sense of terroir. This red blend from barrel is made entirely from regional grapes - 60 percent Schioppettino and the rest Refosco fermented together. Dark ruby in colour, it’s a sappy and herbaceous, but pleasantly so, full and ripe with a high-aromatic ripe-cherry flavour that Silvana rightly likens to kirsch. This red is onomatopoeic – it has a sacral purity combined with a sassy jauntiness as the cool graphite-edged fruit flavours sashay effortlessly over your tongue.
2004 Granato, IGT Vigneti Dolomiti, Elisabetta Foradori – Trentino (biodynamic)
This is a stunning red from start to finish. The wine bursts onto the palate with a neverending kaleidoscope of dried roses, spices, pomegranate and raspberries. This medium to full-bodied Teroldego (100%) possesses stunning balance and finesse and tannins that caress the palate with notable elegance and a minerality that could have been etched out of the Dolomitic massifs that surround the vineyards. You sense the oak in a positive way, adding sheen to the firm-fleshed fruits. The Granato is the classic example of the iron fist in the velvet glove and is thus a wine that appeals to traditionalists and point squirrelers alike.
2000 Brunello di Montalcino, AA Pian dell Orino – Tuscany (biodynamic)
“Our goal is to fully understand the diverse characteristics of the vineyards that we cultivate. To this end we separate the grapes picked from each vineyard during the vinification in order to make separate wines. The work we do in the vineyards is an important way of getting to know the vines themselves at close hand. “Our shared mother is the land that nourishes us, and together we grow with what she offers” (Béla Hamvas).
Our expectation of wine conditions our palate and nowhere more so than wines that we are generally familiar with and have a reference for. This natural, biodynamic wine does not ask any favours. The nose is restrained with hints of earl grey tea and aromatic grass, some dried fruits and herbs and mulch. The palate is bright but equally backwards and quite linear in progression. A whisper of prunes, some nascent tarriness there, dominant tannins and shell-like minerality; this Brunello is remarkably vivacious and improves in the glass.
Better red than… dead boring
No one ever said that tasting Italian red wines was a doddle. Obduracy is a caricature of Italian reds and although we shouldn’t brush all reds with the same tar, so to speak, their very identity nevertheless rests on a familiar sour bite, that peculiar astringency that makes perfect sense with food. Flattering wines rarely possess the edge and drive to challenge hearty food, therefore what’s tough for the palate –in this case – is definitely sauce for the goose. Even the grape names romantically suggest the style of the wine: Sangiovese (the blood of Jove) or Negroamaro (bitter-black). A bloody bitter wine with edges is a wine that challenges the palate; there are enough denatured beauties and vacant models in the world of wine. Italy’s contrasts are manifold: the classic and the modern; the north and the south; the raw and the cooked; the bitter and the sweet. There’s a charm in contrariness, in being capatosta.
2003 Massa Vecchia Maremma Rosso “Querciola” - Tuscany (biodynamic)
Cloudy, volatile, sweet-sour – it’s not just that nowt is taken out, but it seems that a whole lot has been shovelled back in. The colour – hazy ruby red. The nose – what a nose, more of a full blown conk, wafting morello cherries on aromatic gusts of balsamic vineyard. Fresh in the mouth, earthy and smoky, with marked yeastiness this Sangiovese is truly a walk on the wild side.
2003 Montepulciano d’Abruzzo, Villa Gemma, Gianni Masciarelli – Abruzzo
Villa Gemma is no stranger to the Gambero Rosso, regularly garnering the three glasses. The wine spends almost two years in French oak before resting another year in bottle prior to release. This fills the senses with soaring notes of coffee, cigar box, thick black fruits, minerals, spice, currants… the whole sensory caboodle. Powerful on the palate yet somehow civilized (probably due to the bottle aging at the cellar) the Gemma is opaque with a rich, elegant and complex nose. The first impact gives both power and refinement, then the fruit appears followed by flavours of tar, cocoa beans, balsam and the classic liquorice. If Montepulciano were opera this version would be Libiamo ne’lieti calici from La Traviata.
2006 Marcillac Cuvee Lairis, Jean Luc Matha – South West France
Many a king would enjoy drinking this bluid-red wine. Jean-Luc Matha trained to be a clown and priest (although not necessarily at the same time) before finding his true vocation. The Cuvée Lairis undergoes 28 days of maceration in closed fermenters. The wine exhibits a supple texture full of red and black fruits. This mouthful of forest fruit, minerals and spices teases, provokes and delights in equal measure. Delightful red fruit flavours abound amidst the sturdiness of the wine; raspberries and cherries seasoned with white pepper, paprika and myrtle on top of a layer of cool stones and pungent medicinality. You can also taste the iron in the wines (the soil locally is a red soil known as rougier, full of iron). “I love the things that the earth gives,” says Matha. “I love working with the vine up on the hill. And just before I come down, I like to watch the sunset and see how the colours change… I breathe and listen to the sounds around me… I am in the midst of nature and feel completely content.” Thoreau revisited or winemaker? Both, really. “So far I have made thirteen wines at this property. And in a way, they are like my thirteen children. Each one is a little bit different, yet each one has a common bond that gives them their ultimate identity; the earth, the vine, the frost, the rain and the sun. That, for me, is the beauty of winemaking.”
2004 La Pech Abuse VDT, Domaine du Pech - South West France (biodynamic)
Domaine du Pech, Buzet. Didn’t get the appellation credit in 2004, hence La Pech Abuse… Since 2004 the drive towards biodynamic methods of cultivation has included the use of medicinal plants as well as minerals, thereby necessitating minimal treatments with copper or use of sulphur. Only natural yeasts are used and the wines are bottled without filtration. A blend of Merlot, Cab Franc and Cab Sauv the Pech is intensely savoury with flavoursome notes of woodsmoke, leather and prune.
2007 Minervois vieilles vignes, Domaine du Cros (organic)
Situated in Badens, a few kilometres from Carcassonne, the vineyards of Domaine Cros sit on the poorest of poor shallow stony argilo-calcaire soils so stark and inhospitable in certain places that only the vine and the olive tree can scratch an existence. The vignes vignes in question are Carignan; the wine is massive with bruised black fruits, aromas of hot stones, bitter chocolate, coffee and a surprising freshness on the finish.
2002 Cahors, Le Cèdre, Chateau du Cèdre – South West France
Fabulous colour, almost impenetrably dark with glossy purple tints, thick cassis aromas, also intense wild raspberry, massively extracted fruit on the palate with a finish of some twenty seconds. The tannic structure is balanced by beautiful sweet fruit character and fine acidity. This vintage illustrates the benefits of a long growing season.
2006 Saumur Champigny La Marginale, Domaine des Roches Neuves - Loire
Cuvée Marginale is a selection of the best grapes (tiny yields of 25hl/ha) put into barriques neuves, a felicitous amalgam of Bordeaux and Loire styles. The vines for the Marginale are situated on the superb clayey-limestone soil of Fosse de Chaintres. This cuvée is only made in the best years when the grapes achieve a minimum of 13 degrees alcohol. Each year Thierry Germain aims for less oak exposure and to allow the terroir to do the talking. Intense colour, powerful nose of blackberries, lovely attack in the mouth with notes of savoury vanilla, cinnamon, blackcurrant, fine tannins, great persistence with suggestions of paprika and mineral.
Doug’s Top Ten Wines of the Year
This was not a vintage year for wine revelations, possibly to do with the fact that, with age, my palate has grown sere and tedious (yeah, right), but more probably because I haven’t been a terribly social animal. The most enjoyable wine experiences have always involved intellectual engagement and laughter as well as good food – the wine in question is then given a pleasurable social context in which to express itself. The first four wines in this list were drunk at the same birthday dinner, a mixture of luck and judgement, the others were supped variously at home or in restaurants.
1982 Chateau Sociando-Mallet, Haut-Médoc
I carafed this for half an hour before serving. It still maintained a lovely deep ruby colour and carried fabulous aromas of black olives, lead-pencil shavings and mineral edged black fruits with a cassis edge, as well as a tarry, cigar-box, smoky elegance. This rich display continued on the palate, which had sweet and spicy fruit, with full weight and meaty texture, cut through by a healthy presence of ripe tannins. The 1982 Sociando had reached that rare perfect equilibrium wherein the plummy presence of the Merlot had enriched the more structural Cabernet Sauvignon and created a luscious harmony. These legs will run and run.
1996 Pommard 1er cru Pezerolles, Hubert de Montille
At the very beginning of last year I broached a bottle of Montille’s Volnay puckish pucker from the 95 vintage. This pale Pommard was initially even more elusive, revealing the shiest citrus fruit rubbed over dry stone with taut nervous acidity. The reddest of red cherries and redcurrants eventually emerge from the wine’s hermetic shell, thread-needled on bootlaces of silken acidity. Montille was one of the true traditionalist codgers who made authentic vins de gardes, by which he meant unremittingly chiselled wines that would be approachable when they damn well felt like it and not at your convenience, sir. Many people don’t enjoy this style – it is the vinous equivalent of a slithery elver with acidity like bolts of electricity. (An electric elver?). And yet the last glass was so alluring that the final drops of wine rung out of the bottle seemed like regretful tears for the loss of an old friend.
2000 Arbois Savagnin Ouillé, Emmanuel Houillon
This was the aperitif at the aforementioned dinner. Decanted and brought up to cool temperature this ullaged Savagnin displayed an entrancingly salty amontillado nose with some fine dry spices such as cumin and fenugreek and an underlay of yeast, country butter and old wood. The acidity was beautifully consistent and the delicate nuttiness means that this was a wine that you could drink as well as admire. It topped the dinner but could have tailed it with any number of the runny Neal’s Yard cheeses that we supped through straws later on.
2006 Massa Vecchia Bianco IGT Maremma
I have tried this ample amber wine four times and it has always delivered a pornucopia of sensual delights. I love the colour: imagine the promise held by the glistening inside of a ripe peach. It smells of peaches too (and sweet apricots) and one instantly receives an impression of firm skin and supple flesh at the same time, a tincture of rosewater and a hint of really good Turkish delight. The palate is exotic and pulpy and there’s a further palpable lift from the sweet and savoury tones of chestnut wood.
2006 Cotes du Rhone, Sierra du Sud, Domaine Gramenon
I ordered a bottle of this wine at Corrigan’s Mayfair the day after it opened (the restaurant, that is); this is what well-bred Syrah is all about: black olives marinated in herbes de Provence. I love the essence of gentle dark fruits (blackberry jamble), the balsamic notes of creosote and marmite, delicate meatiness and the moreish smoky finish with suavity and finesse. This was particularly good with venison and a saddle of hare which came with a “game wellington”.
2005 Moulin des Dames Anthologia, Luc de Conti, Bergerac
Drunk at Helen Darroze at the Connaught with Emily O’Hare and Yves Desmaris with a first course of deconstructed grouse.
I have written effusively of the magical moments inspired by drinking the 2001 vintage of this white Bergerac…
“The Anthologia Blanc from Luc de Conti is for me one such. Allow me to wax lyrical. I poured a glass: its colour was striking, a definitive old gold that seemed to trap the light in its embrace. This peach-hued song of sunset with resonant nose-honeying warmth was truly the “yeast of Eden”. If the colour drew me in, then the nose conjured a riot of sensuous (and sensual) images. One breathes in tropical aromas of candied apple, coconut, plump peach and honeydew vying with exotic Indian spice – there’s cumin, fenugreek and dried ginger … and as the wine warms and develops after each swirl in the glass the leesy butteriness which reined in the rampant fruit dissolves and one is left with sweet balm tempered by the most wonderful natural fresh fruit acidity. Experiencing the Anthologia for the first time was an epiphany for me, like the beauty of a sunset “…the time between the lights when colours undergo their intensification and purples and gold burn in the window panes like the beat of an excitable heart… when the beauty of the world which is soon to perish, has two edges, one of laughter, one of anguish”. Or like summer arriving after a harsh spring, when the clouds fold back, like the ravelling up of a screen, as Adam Nicholson put it. This was not Vin Blanc but Vin d’Or. Certainly not Piat d’Or. Everyone has their special wine moment and their own private language to describe it.”
In its infancy this golden-white can seem to be coddled by oak, a sort of puppy fat that masks it best-in-breed. Not on this occasion. The wine was there for the tasting, if not for the taking, majestically ripe and sweet (without being unctuous) with exacting pineapple freshness that allowed the flavours to course and eddy across the taste buds. Imagine the most beautiful fruit cored, topped and tailed, and left with the sweetest flesh remaining…
While he from forth the closet brought a heap
Of candied apples, quince and plum and gourd…
Manna and dates, in argosy transferr’d
From Fez; and spiced dainties, every one,
From silken Samarcand to cedar’d Lebanon.
... you bite into the feast of flesh and the sweet juices dribble down your cheek.
This is not just a wine etc. etc.
2005 Valle Isarco Kuenhof Veltliner, Peter Pliger
Tasted with Fiona Sims and then drunk afterwards at home…
Wax those tongue skis before tackling this wine of amazing minerality and complexity. Pliger’s wines need long ageing before expressing themselves with depth and fascinating luminosity. Peter Pliger, proprietor and winemaker at this tiny property (only about 2,500 cases are produced annually), is considered to be a pace-setter for the Valle Isarco region, which is located in the normally cooler northern portion of Südtirol. His organically cultivated vines exhibit an aromatic profile and stony minerality that differ from those grown just north or south of his property and are expressive of a unique terroir. Biologically responsible farming is essential, Pliger asserts, if the microflora in the soil are to properly convert the various mineral elements into the soluble form needed by the vines. He grows only Sylvaner, Gewürztraminer, Riesling and Veltliner; the last two in particular are striking wines, perhaps reflecting Pliger’s admiration for Rieslings of the Mosel and Veltliners of the Wachau in Austria (where they are called Grüner Veltliner). Light gold with green glints, elderflower and powdered stone on the nose whilst the palate offers the very essence of freshly cut apple, being sappy and incisive, complemented by layers of citrus and tropical fruits. An undercurrent of chalk and woodsmoke lingers on the tongue, giving this elegant Veltliner an added sense of structure. If ever a wine embodied the glorious tension between stone, sun, soil and water this was it.
2005 Bourgogne Rouge Bedeau, Domaine de Chassorney
Tried on three occasions, each time a point.
This is what natural wine is all about, a probing examination of terroir and the Pinot Noir grape in all its naked beauty. Frederic Cossard is another of those vignerons who work the vines like a sensitive Stakhavonite placing all emphasis on creating a healthy environment for the grapes. The vinification is equally sensitive with nothing added and nothing taken away. The Bedeau teases as it pleases. The nose is very fine, almost restrained and yet certainly and pertinently Pinot Noir. It is reassuringly pale in colour and aromatically there are suggestions of stonefruit, flint and red berry and secondary notes of seasoned wood. The palate is lively and sapid, the fruit complemented and held in check by the stony elegance of the minerality. Overall the Bedeau exhibits regal poise and drive, this fluid Pinot sliding vibrantly over the tongue rather than spreading its soft, sweet charms to all corners of the mouth.
Natural wines – are they different or are we making an artificial case for qualitative superiority? Tasting Cossard’s Bourgogne Rouge, Hervé Souhaut’s northern Rhone Syrah and the Pineau d’Aunis from Domaine Le Briseau, to name but three, you are aware that all the wines possess energy. They do not suffer “palate drag” whereby excessive fatness, sweetness, extraction, bitterness, alcohol or wood seem to hold back the very essence of the wine or cause our tongues to negotiate superimposed textures and flavours.
2006 Brouilly, Croix des Rameaux, Jean-Claude Lapalu
Tried from magnum at The Real Wine Dinner.
A late convert to Gamay I now bore all and sundry with my assertions that this is the next big thing. Natural Gamay rigorously pruned, grown on poor, crumbly soils is capable of genuine excellence. Croix des Rameaux is an old single vineyard exposed south-east on a steep slope of granitic sand. The grapes are harvested fairly late and the cuvaison lasts for 20 to 25 days (traditional vinification with destemmed grapes). The press wine is added to the rest of the juice for the end of the alcoholic fermentation. The wine is then put in three to five year old barrels where it spends the next nine to ten months. This was astonishingly dense, practically opaque and sat darkly in the glass billowing black fruits, leather, bacon and game, rich and smooth with good tannic structure. The antithesis of the majority of Beau-lolly this Brouilly barks like a top Rhone.
2007 Saint-Joseph, Domaine Romaneaux-Destezet
My favourite new producer of the year was Hervé Souhaut who created Domaine Romaneaux-Destezet in 1993… His holdings on the acidic granite soils of the northern Rhone and the top tip of the Ardèche are a mixture of new and ancient vines—from 50 to100 years old. Hervé Souhaut’s holdings are minuscule, only five hectares and he employs only organic and biodynamic winemaking techniques. At the end of September, the grapes are harvested and then undergo a very long maceration at a low temperature without destemming. The wine is then matured on the lees in second-hand oak casks for six months and then bottled without being filtered. His old vines Gamay combines black fruits with a mineral crunch whilst the young vines Syrah (11.7%) has a texture that demonstrates the coolness of the fruit; its sheer silkiness reminding one of fine primary Pinot. The dark cherry and currant flavours are pronounced with the merest hint of parma violet and a whiff of tar and a seasoning of white pepper completing the savoury palette.
Two Saint-Josephs ratchet up the aromatic intensity and complexity without sacrificing the identity of the terroir. The straight St Jo bursts smilingly on the tongue; it is deliciously nuanced and harmonious in its fruit, acid and tannin balance. The Saint-Epine is from a one hundred year old vineyard. Cool climate Syrah tends to have very dynamic aromatics and this example is seductively forward in its advances whilst maintaining a lingering veil of mystery. Violets, freshly roasted coffee beans, black cherry, wet stone and vanilla bean all interplay nicely as they gradually unfurl off the rim of the glass. The palate employs many of the same flavours the wine contains on the nose; deep black cherry and juicy plum flavours mesh with candied violets and cool strawberry tones dominate. The moderate tannins that gradually crop up on the finish highlight the readily accessible fruity components this stellar Syrah possesses. This wine has the spirit of youth with the gentle certainty of old vine wisdom. Ideal with pigeon, guinea fowl, roast chicken or pork.
Bubbling under - Domaine L’Anglore -all wines.
Massa Vecchia Rosato
I’m dreaming of a profoundly pink Christmas. Let me elaborate.
Twas the night before the night before Xmas and nothing was stirring - not even a corkscrew. I don’t want to drink either a full-bodied red nor an aromatic white. I feel frivolous, but I still want to be slightly challenged. How about a chilled light red, or, in gob we trust, a cellar temperature, structured pink wine?
So many pink wines are bubbly confections with all the aromas and flavours of the tank. Fabrizio Niccolaini is a purist; his whites are amber-gold, his rosé is a red by any other name, his red wines are cloudy and rasping, and his sweet Aleatico is bitter, dry, sweet and sour at the same time. So live with the contradictions and unlearn the rules of wine, the vinous truth here has a beautiful fragility. “There is nothing more difficult for a truly creative painter than to paint a rose, because before he can do so he has first to forget all the roses that were ever painted.” (Henri Matisse who was evidently applying this aphorism to Fabrizio’s rosato)
The rosé is barely that, being a deep ruby-complexion’d blend of old vines Merlot and Malvasia Nera (of course). The nose is earthy and herbal: there’s fennel, eucalypt and red chicory, liquorice and cherry, and the mouth manages to be both soft and refreshing at the same time. As crazy volatile rosés go this is madder than Mad Jack McMad, the winner of this year’s Mr Madman competition.
You can sup this with growing delighted disbelief - as I did - or consume it with Tuscan specialties. Cacciucco, originally from Livorno, is a fish soup or rather a stew, thick, rich and black, which traditionally contains chilli and should be made with at least five kinds of fish – one for each of the c’s in cacciucco. Triglie alla Livornese (red mullet) is also popular on the northern stretch of coast, while further south the catch is grey mullet, which is usually simply grilled, as well as cuttlefish, squid and octopus. I prefer a more classic fish soup made from an intense stock, studded with mussels and served with rouille, gruyere and croutons. Failing that a garlicky, anchovy-laden pissaladière would hit the mark.
This tenebrous pink wine enjoys its gender confusion so much that it would also blithely trot with a turkey and gambol (or gander) with a goose.
2009 - The Oenomancer Sifts Through the Wine Lees
The Prog Nose-Ticator sniffs out some bouquets to inhale, and brickbats to avoid, for the coming year...
* 2007 Burgundy will be re-evaluated as a much better vintage than previously thought, because 2008 etc… What do you mean there’s no 2007 left?
* All New World wines which score 95 plus Parker points in three successive vintages will be allowed to stamp: “THIS IS AN ICON WINE” on the front label.
* Certain wine merchants, imitating the cunning strategy of supermarkets, will introduce loss leaders (on brands and popular wines) in an attempt to buy business and corner certain parts of the market.
* Supermarkets will continue to play the “chicken game” of the Truly Unnecessary, The Bad Practice and The Plug Ugly with their perennial deep discounting as they wait for each other to blink. Will they ever learn to bogof?
* We’ve all heard of reverse osmosis and spinning cones (have we?) but what about flavour inhibitors and deneutralisation? Technological advances will enable winemakers to remove unwanted and unwonted flavours from certain wines (for example, any flavour whatsoever from Pinot Grigio that mindblowingly high yields haven’t already stripped away); conversely, deneutralisation will give the winemaker-technician the opportunity to add a range of the finest fruit flavours known to science to the final blend.
* Darling, you reduced the duty on wine because you listened to the reasoned pleas and modest proposals of the wine industry. The naughty yoof culture of the nation takes to the streets by way of celebration quaffing Chablis 1er cru by the half bottle and decking oysters by the dozen like there’s no tomorrow. In total panic the government introduces an emergency duty levy three times the rate of inflation (when inflation was at its highest point in the economic cycle) to clamp down on “middle class exhibitionism, high spirits and bivalve abuse”.
* There will be a succession of colourful bigger-and-better bin end sales as merchants endeavour to divest themselves of overstocks.
* Undervalued for many years, and never quite getting it, Portugal will finally takes its place in the sun as the country that excites the wine critics. We will also learn that Alvarinho can be spelt thus. Spain will be the comparative losers this year as the perception remains that it churns out international trophy wines commanding funny money. C’mon, Spain, all that glisters is not oak!
* Sterling ceases to become a currency and instead becomes a yo-yo. Wine merchants abandon the notion of bringing out wine lists and instead quote their wine prices according to the hourly fluctuations of the money markets.
* Restaurants will experiment with creative ways of selling wine in restaurants even if it means getting round silly by-laws regarding the legitimate size of measures that can be served…
* We will witness the growth of Vin de Table on increasingly irreverent labels as French growers trial cuvees, varieties and styles which takes them outside appellation regulations.
* Yet more growers will start or continue the process of conversion towards biodynamic viticulture, augmented by an increasing number of winemakers using little or no sulphur during vinification.
* The above so-called movement will split into factions: the fundamentalists or proto-Steineristas; the Organic Purists, or Terroiristes; and those who merely want to adopt the badge of the trend, the Faux-Bios. And all the categories in between which I can’t be bothered to make up.
* The proliferation of wine conferences, seminars, free trips etc reaches critical mass stretching journalists and other opinion-formers to their limits as life literally becomes an airport carousel, old chum. The Events Horizon expands exponentially as South Africa launches a two week World Pinotage Forum, Chile counters with its Carmenere Classics, whilst California responds with the Black and White Zinfandel Show. Yes, there are 365 days in the year to fill…
* Grape variety of the year… I’m still backing my hunches from last year: Gamay, in its more mineral incarnation, a red for all seasons, and Chardonnay, because we’d forgotten that it didn’t have to be an expression of oak but can brilliantly marry fruit and terroir whilst giving us something to roll around our mouths.
* Winemakers will start to experiment with alternative regimes of wood ageing. Rather than oak we may see chestnut and cherrywood and, for cheaper alternatives, balsa plank and extract of sawdust.
* The 100 point RP scale begins to lose its currency and credibility after a succession of Wine Advocates awards perfect scores with the profligacy of banks giving out 100% mortgages. In the new recessionary atmosphere the majority of wines submitted will not be marked at all and the growers will just have to sit on their offerings until times change. If only…
* A French negoce house decides to label their Burgundies with varietal indication. A Saint-Aubin Chardonnay is bottled - under stelvin - and a small earthquake occurs in Burgundy when thousands of dead growers start rotating in their graves. Less successful is their Saint-Aubin Chardonnay sur Gamay, which is deemed “somewhat confusing” by notable Burgundy commentator Clive Coates.
* More contradictory reports about the good/ill health benefits of drinking red/white wine whether you are male/female. The stress caused by reading such reports inevitably drives more people to drink.
Let’s Get Metaphysical
I was surfing the net in a desultory way when I plonked through the portal of someone’s web-site and chanced upon the following charmingly lyrical terroirism relating to the spirit of great wine. If you unpick the meaning behind each aphorism you will see that there is more than sheer resonance to the statements; instead they form collectively a manifesto for individuality, integrity and harmony. The beauty of wine lies in its soul; it is not a manifestation of opulence and power, but rather something that exists purely on its own merits and is content to allow you to find it.
Beauty is more important than impact.
Harmony is more important than intensity.
The whole of any wine must always be more than the sum of its parts.
Distinctiveness is more important than conventional prettiness.
Soul is more important than anything, and soul is expressed as a trinity of family, soil, and artisanality.
Lots of wines, many of them good wines let you taste the noise, but only the best let you taste the silence.
- Terry Theise
Not Only Strange But Untrue Also
In the ultimate endeavour to rebrand all the wines of a single country, Spain has changed its name to AVIVA.
Stray Philosophical Thoughts About Wine
Once in a blue monday I get this itch which I have to scratch. Every pretentious thought about wine that I’ve ever had comes bubbling to the surface and has to be skimmed off. (How many metaphors is that?) The subject of wine is intoxicating and full inebriation is achieved when one strays into the realms of philosophy. It always comes back to the same question: wine has inspired artists and philosophers but is it art or is the question itself a load of Jackson Pollocks?
MUSINGS AND MEANDERINGS
Elegance is reduction, simplification, condensation. It is spare, stark, sleek. Elegance is cultivated abstraction… (It has) clarity, order, proportion, balance...
Elegance in wine is the cool, effortless beauty of nature gently extracted and clearly and cleanly rendered. We enjoy wines that retain this sense of effortless proportion, which are pure and finely delineated, in which the wines are stripped to their essentials. Pinot Noir arguably, at its finest, is condensed terroir, combining the mystery of the grape with clarity and proportion. Elegant wines have a delicious tension, there is nothing superfluous in them, the integration is sublime – these are the qualities that define the natural essence of the wine.
I assume the senses crave sources of maximum information, that the eye benefits by exercise, stretch, and expansion towards materials of complexity and substance . . . conditions which alert the total sensibility — cast it almost in stress — extend insight and response, the basic responsive range of empathetic-kinaesthetic vitality.— CAROLEE SCHNEEMANN
My best and most intense responses to wine are when momentary apprehension causes a reaching out towards Truth. My senses are intrigued and challenged and so I am impelled to investigate, refer back, question and allow my imagination and fancy full rein. The more we drink interesting wine the more we exercise our senses and cause each node of receptivity to tremble; we create a response to meet the aesthetic. This is art, the dissolving of boundaries between the self and what the self perceives, activating a vital, surging response. Appreciation is truly creative as one seeks to draw out the essence of that which one apprehends.
...if we connect to our passion, that in itself will be regenerative; we won’t have to wait for the energy, it will be there. But how do we connect to that passion? One of my favourite phrases, which a friend taught me, is that we need to pay “exquisite attention” to our responses to things—noticing what makes our flame glow brighter. If we pay attention to those things, we’ll be able to catch the flame and feed it.
The passive response to wine is one whereby you feel that wine should surrender its secrets without the need for commitment. Just as poetry has been described as the “exquisite expression of exquisite impressions” so, if we want to appreciate wine to its maximum, we must be also become poets and channel our responses to find that regenerative passion. Being in touch with our senses allows us to experience the transformative, redemptive quality of art. Being in touch with our senses allows us to connect momentarily with great wine which is surely what we aspire to when we take wine seriously.
Mass production strips every image of its singularity, rendering it schematic and quickly identifiable, so that it resembles a sign. A sign is a command. Its message comes all at once. It means one thing only--nuance and ambiguity are not important properties of signs--and is no better for being hand-made. Works of art speak in a more complicated way of relationships, hints, uncertainties, and contradictions. They do not force meanings on their audience; meaning emerges, adds up, unfolds from their imagined centres. A sign dictates meaning, a work of art takes one through the process of discovering meaning. In short, paintings educate but signs discipline; mass language always tends to speak in the imperative voice.
— ROBERT HUGHES in The Shock of the New.
One could apply similar distinctions to wines. The commercial imperative of the average mass produced brand is to eliminate doubt, to make a statement, and persuade the consumer that they can be defined by their choices. Such wine is not art, nor intended to be, but functional and reliable, wine for the sake of quaffing and sloshing. It must have the quality of inertia and point in a single direction. The designer (or winemaker) becomes the sign, the packaging is more important than the content. Real wine is, in every sense, fluid, uncertain, mutable. It provokes different responses in different people, it suggests rather than cajoles and unveils itself in its own time rather than presenting itself brazenly. Apprehending the wine combines observation with intuition - this is the aesthetic response. Great wine like great art makes us understand a little bit more about the way we experience the world. Great wine again like great art has a moral component in that it inspires us to seek and make connections; it makes us think and thus educates us, whereas the brand tells us what we should be thinking – and should be drinking. What is real art (in wine) is not the external form, but the essence . . . it is impossible for anyone to express anything essentially real by imitating its exterior surface.
Price Hikes and Recession Busters
Yes, it’s the “R” word. The effect of the economic downturn is already being felt severely in the wine trade with a succession of restaurants and small retailers going into liquidation and bad debt reaching an historic high. Some anecdotal evidence to illustrate the scale of recession: Major (high profile) restaurant groups have been struggling to pay September invoices and have had their lines of credit cut. Anglo Overseas bonded warehouse has gone into administration and stock from various wine merchants was frozen. A delivery driver for a big company had three deliveries (one of which was a single case of cooking wine). A top London restaurant reported business 30% down on last January.
To compound the difficulties the recession coincides with inflationary pressures, namely the virtual collapse of the pound against the euro and dollar over the past year.
How do such currency fluctuations affect the wine trade? Normally, merchants calculate their annual prices according to the cost of the product from the supplier, meanwhile taking a long term position on exchange rates. When currencies are stable the importer can forecast and guarantee continuity of price, and restaurants can also correspondingly plan their particular strategy for six months or even a year.
Naturally, no wine merchant can absorb swingeing currency differentials, but in the current highly competitive climate many have bent over backwards to respond to the (often overbearing) demands of their customers, and, as a result, severely damaged their margins. In 2008 several companies were compelled to impose extraordinary currency surcharges to offset the potential loss of revenue; it was not unusual to see three and even four “incremental” lists brought out. To understand the scale of the currency movement it is salutary to recall that two years ago most price lists were predicated on an exchange rate with the pound buying 1.45 euros. By the middle of last year sterling had dipped to 1.30. A couple of weeks ago the buying rate was 1:1. To put this into perspective, the same wine costs about 20% more than it did last year.
Already operating at low margins and tied into unrealistic contracts, wine merchants have inevitably begun to feel the pinch. Margins have shrunk, belts are being tightened and staff are being laid off. Wine prices will probably have to increase a further 15% this year (time will tell) simply to cover the exchange rate deficit (and any additional rises from the growers). The only gleam in this dark cloud is that the currency might eventually regain some of its considerable losses and selling prices rejigged accordingly.
Confronted with impending price rises and a shrinking (and more discerning) customer base, restaurateurs will have to fundamentally re-evaluate their pricing strategies. If wholesome food can be delivered at wholesome prices, why shouldn’t wholesome wines? Rather than straining to achieve unrealistic gross profit margins restaurateurs might attempt to deliver extra value-for-money by means of creative “cash mark-ups”. The G.P. (gross profit) as it is colloquially known, so beloved of the beancounter fraternity, should be consigned to economic oblivion. As long as the cash margin is protected the profit will still be more than adequate and it is infinitely better for restaurants to be busy with lower margins than quiet with a high g.p. Whilst good cheap wines may soon be a thing of the past, there will always be bin ends, special offers and interesting parcels, and the more that restaurants and wine merchants work together to find versatile solutions the greater the likelihood that those restaurants can retain the goodwill of their customers. Compromising quality is not the answer.
Recessions provide valuable lessons in how to run a business. Those who don’t acknowledge the economic reality will go to the wall. Business is not simply about numbers and number-crunching; it is about people, relationships, and partnerships. You can’t divorce economics from ethics. Lack of consideration, lack of flexibility, lack of understanding is responsible for the perpetuation of bad business practice. The most successful restaurants are wedded to quality and understand the product that they are delivering; they know the price of everything they sell, and they also know its value.
To Get The Business You’ve Got To Get Busy
OF RECESSION, WINE MERCHANTS AND RESTAURANTS – Some Thoughts
As the curse says: May you live in interesting times. We are witnessing a deeply polarised wine industry. Some areas of our business will continue to flourish, whereas for others (small independent retailers, for example) there will have to be a long period of retrenchment, and even survival. Whilst big companies are trying to ride out the recession by throwing money at every eventuality, smaller operators are obliged to protect their margins and to pass on price rises to their customers. Whereas the business of wine used to be about buying and selling, it is now about cornering market share and savvy financial strategy.
*If you strip away duty and factor in average inflation the price of wine in real terms has decreased during the past five years. Skilful negotiation -and thumbscrew tactics - has persuaded growers to keep price rises to a bare minimum, and the relatively strong pound has meant that there has been sufficient fat in the margin for deals and discounts.
*The problem is that an expectation was created within the wine trade that the price of wine would never increase. As the market became increasingly competitive, the trade was able to pick and choose who they would buy their wine from. Restaurants, for example, began to insist on keener discounts and longer lines of credit. It was a true buyer’s market; the culture of wine mirrored that of the buoyant economy and thus was essentially unsustainable.
* The credit crunch initially had little effect but slowly the economy went into recession. The banks were immobilized and by refusing to lend money and rewriting terms and conditions of loans they began to drive small companies out of business.
The loss of thousands of jobs in various sectors of the economy has had a deep impact on restaurants.
* Anecdotal evidence: A well known restaurant in Soho had only a table of two one lunchtime - normally, they are full and one would have to book; another restaurant in Mayfair reported trade 30% down on last January; a bonded warehouse went into administration; a delivery driver for another company had only three deliveries into London restaurants last Friday (and one of those was a case of cooking wine); a small chain of off-licenses has been liquidated.
*Two of London’s highest profile restaurant groups with a combined total of millions of pounds of turnover are in financial difficulties.
*Bad debt and late payment is responsible for terrible cash flow throughout the wine trade. It is the classic example of the global “knock-on effect”. Without the business the restaurant can’t pay the merchant, the merchant can’t pay the growers and the growers can’t pay their bills.
As if that wasn’t enough the collapse of the sterling has thrown a massive spanner into the works:
*Last year the pound dropped over 20% against the euro and even more against the dollar
*The cost of dry goods once again (bottles, cardboard, paper) increased
*2008 was an exceedingly difficult, sometimes very small vintage, in certain parts of the world
*Hefty duty rises above inflation were imposed (and more to come)
As a result:
* Commensurate price increases from wine merchants have become inevitable. Unable to absorb huge cuts in their margins, unlike supermarkets, who can effectively sell wine as a loss leader to create brand loyalty, they must evaluate whether they want to maintain turnover at a loss or walk away from unsustainable business.
*It has been said by many in the trade that wine companies are no longer in the business of sourcing and selling wine, but have turned into financial institutions expected to hedge currency and take long term views on investment. Amongst certain companies the imperative for expansion is enormous because their investors insist on a quick return for their money. Those companies will have to buy greater market share through deeper discounting and cash deals to maintain the necessary growth.
* Restaurateurs will have to make a critical decision and either trade down for much poorer quality wines at the same price or move away from the time-honoured blanket gross profit margin calculation towards more progressive cash mark-ups. The gross profit is a tyrannical tool, responsible for driving up prices and driving down value in restaurants for a number of years. It may seem counter-intuitive to increase prices during a recession, but it is surely more important to offer value by reducing the margin and demonstrating better quality.
*Customers are more adept than ever at spotting lazy wine lists; it therefore behoves the restaurateur to stimulate spend by stimulating interest.
*The most intelligent and prescient operators emerge from recessions stronger than ever, the myopic and venal go to the wall. For years restaurants traded on the good will of their suppliers – and this was fair enough, but with current economic fragility it is time for a reality check and for the appropriate medicine to be swallowed. It is time also for the trade to pull together, to put mutual interest before short term gain, to improve communication and work on imaginative solutions to ride out this crisis.
One solution would be to educate customers to spend more and drink better. Far too many consumers still don’t discriminate in their wine purchases. Merchants and retailers should raise the bar, enthuse people, and try to yank them from the mighty embrace the supermarkets with their perennial, loss-leading 3 for £10 offers. During a recession people naturally default to the cheapest option. It doesn’t have to be so. A wine merchant or small retailer can provide the level of knowledgeable service that no supermarket can aspire to. This adds genuine value to the wine. At Les Caves we are going to prevail upon our wine producers to visit the UK, do more proactive tastings with our customers and convey the story behind the product. We need to excite, challenge and inform customers, we need to remind people that wine can be delicious, provoking, a consolation in difficult times and a pleasure always. In short, we need to win the debate about quality over quantity…
Recession Report - Countdown to Uncertainty
Today, the economy officially goes into recession. A recession is not a momentary thing; we can expect it to last five quarters which means the fortunes of the economy will only start to turn next April by which time the complexion of trading will have changed markedly.
The definition of a recession is when people begin to fear for their jobs and, as a result, spend less money on goods and services. This lack of spend filters through to each sector of the economy which eventually grinds to a halt. Jobs are lost. It is a self-fulfilling vicious circle, to coin a tautologous phrase.
Fishworks went into administration a couple of weeks ago as did an international hotel chain. For every restaurant that goes under dozens of people are affected. Not only the people who work in these establishments lose their jobs, but also ancillary staff and creditors are deeply affected (fishmongers, veg and meat suppliers and wine merchants). We have seen numerous examples where one bad debt virtually brings a supplier to its knees. Some wine merchants, we have been told, are planning to write off £400,000 worth of bad debt this year and, in a recession where margins are actually being squeezed, this figure is even worse than it looks.
The first businesses that will go to the wall will be the groups that expanded unsustainably over the years and the smaller operations that have had their loans renegotiated (or rescinded) by their banks. The shrinking customer base will also vote with its collective feet: those establishments that offer poor value or poor quality won’t survive long. This may be a long overdue correction, but it will still be hurtful to many people.
The underlying economy is perceived as weak by investors at home and abroad. The pound continues to fall: It is now 1.06 against the euro and 1.36 against the dollar (its lowest since 1985). Since we are a country that buys products from abroad and borrows money this is very gloomy news. The wine trade needs a strong currency to preserve its margins and also to give something back to restaurants.
It is a fact of life that many businesses use their suppliers as banks or even charitable institutions. Wine merchants are expected to provide an endless source of subsidy. The chain of credit is, however, extremely fragile; the restaurant or retailer that doesn’t pay within the stipulated terms and conditions breaks the chain and the merchants lose the cash flow to pay their bills. If merchants were banks they would surely exact interest rate charges for late payment in the same way that they themselves are penalised by banks; instead they try to find accommodation with their customers and endeavour to reach a mutually convenient solution. Late payment (on top of discounts) slashes margins to an unsustainable level. There has to be a balance between the credit given by a wine company and the return from the customer. For years catering has been trading on the illusion of business created and has operated largely by the deferral of debt. When the economy is doing well there is sufficient money sloshing around the system to keep everyone afloat. When the economy is in recession the truth is laid bare; you can only give so much before you are completely financially compromised.
Banks have to write off debts themselves (or for the government to buy bad debt) and restructure loans for many businesses so that they can survive into the next year. Restaurants and retailers should also work with their suppliers to come up with viable repayment plans. Much can be achieved if everyone pulls together, but that would require better communication and a more honest mindset than we have in the catering trade at the moment.
Ribolla Gialla by Princic
Ribolla Gialla – said quickly sounds like a Mexican expression of incredulity, but you can believe that this is one interesting variety.
The grape is believed to have originated in Greece; Jancis Robinson asserts that the Robola of the Cephalonia is “almost certainly” the same grape and it made its way up to the Friuli-Venezia Giulia by way of Slovenia. The first written documentation of the grape was in a 1289 notarial contract on vineyard land in the Friuli region. During the 14th century, the Italian poet Giovanni Boccaccio listed indulgence of Ribolla wines as one of the sins of gluttony in his diatribe on the subject. Then I doth like to commit gluttony on a grand scale.
When the Duke of Austria, Leopold III, established reign over Trieste one of his stipulations was that the city supply him each year with 100 urns of the region’s best Ribolla wine. By 1402, the reputation of the wine made from the grape was high enough for the city of Udine to feel compelled to enact a law which prohibited the adulteration of any wine made from Ribolla. In 2008 another law was enacted to prevent the local water supply from being adulterated by Pinot Grigio. In the 18th century, the Italian writer Antonio Musnig rated Ribolla wine as the finest white wine in the Friuli.
The phylloxera epidemic of the 19th century took a hard toll on Ribolla plantings with many Friuli vineyards owners choosing to replant their land with imported French wine grapes like Merlot and Sauvignon blanc rather than the local grape varieties. More recently its fortunes have revived.
Dario Princic is a genius and makes his wines in a particular way. All the vineyard is chemical free since 1988. 100% fermented juice, nothing is added… Here is simple recipe for natural wine
*Grapes are harvested late to achieve the maximum maturity and aromatic expression.
*All indigenous yeast
*No batonnage is made as the lees moves dynamically.
*No filtration, no clarification - nowt taken out
*Twenty-five days skin contact maceration
*The fermentation of the Ribolla is longer than the Tokay (say) because the skin is tighter and yields less juice.
*The wine tarries for three years in used barriques (seven to ten years old) on the lees before bottling
My first experience of this grape variety was Gravner’s; I remember that it smelled of warm peach skin and fruit tea and had an almost granular texture. Princic’s Ribolla has a beautiful amber sheen with the appearance of glowing marmalade. The aromas are understated, suggestive of candied apricot, tangerine and peach-skin with secondary leesy notes of dry ginger, yeast and white pepper. The mouth, gentle at first with an underlying touch of astringency, reveals delicately waxy apricots and yellow plums with some sherry and almond. The wine is linear, quite taut and simply delicious and would be so good with a chunky bouillabaisse.
Framingham - Andrew Hedley’s notes
Minerality.
The soils on our vineyard as you know are old river bed. They (generally) consist of hand sized boulders and gravels of greywacke, (a sedimentary, hard, grey sandstone and mudstone mix containing quartz and feldspar) which most of the mountains are composed of around here, that have been deposited by the river along with some silt as its course has meandered over the years. In some parts of Europe where grapes are grown, you can seem to get a very strong influence of “mineral” flavours from the soils, for example ‘slatey” flavours in the Mosel through to smoky, fired aromas and flavours on more granitic and volcanic soils that to me can sometimes smell like what you might imagine to be the very breath of Vulcan him/herself! In many cases where these ‘terroir effects” are at their most pronounced they can be dominant aromas and flavours and I also categorise them as “dry” flavours, which I often think goes to explain why some quite sweet wines, such as Riesling from parts of Germany and Pinot Gris and Gewurztraminer from Alsace can appear much drier than they actually are. For wines from Marlborough, I think we have a more “gentle” minerality which is certainly imparted from those stones. It think you can both smell and taste the note - the aroma reminds me of going out into the road after a summer rain shower, when the sun comes out and the pavement starts to dry - that’s the smell - damp/drying concrete. The flavour can be evoked by imagining that you have taken a stone from the river bed, dipped in the river to clean the dust off, and then licking the water off the stone. Clearly I don’t do that (often), but I think it conjures up the right impressions to convey that sense of minerality. Since the mineral tone is not maybe as overt as in other regions around the world, the structure and balance of some of our wines can serve to emphasise the mineral flavour.
Sauvignon Blanc.
We are after a wine that is identifiable as Marlborough, but with the wet river stone mineral notes to be readily noticeable. it’s generally a relatively taut wine c/f many of the more broad, modern Marlborough SBs - this structure to me accentuates minerality (and food friendliness!). For the 07 and 08 wines, the fruit source is very similar, our own estate block and a row of vineyards along the north bank of the Wairau River - almost a mini sub-region in itself. There is a natural devigoration over there, it can be a little cooler and wetter due to localised effects, as well as a little frost prone in spring which often serves to give a moderate flowering and hence set relatively low crops. The extra water from rainfall is good for the canopy as well as nitrogen pick up from the soil - research has shown that these conditions are good for the passionfruit/grapefruit flavour development. There are 3 terraces that lead down to the river stopbank - we take grapes from the middle and top terraces which are stony but with some clay in them which helps to retain water. It may seem counter intuitive, but irrigation of sauvignon blanc on lighter, poorer soils is an absolute necessity as any yellowing of the canopy in the early -mid growing season causes the flavours in the grapes to become like boiled vegetables - not what’s required.
Riesling.
Several things should make us interesting as a Riesling producer in NZ. First, we have some of the oldest Riesling vines in NZ at 28 yrs old. These were planted on phylloxera resistant rootstocks which meant that they weren’t pulled up when phylloxera arrived in NZ, and they escaped the government sponsored vine pull as well. Does grafted rootstock negate terroir effects? Many people believe that rootstock only makes a difference in the first 10 years of a vine’s life, after that, everything behaves the same. So who can say? We are unique in NZ in making four distinctly different styles of Riesling from the same single estate vineyard - we don’t look outside our own estate for Riesling. Dry and Classic Riesling components are aged without sulphur for 2-3 months after ferment, brings on flavours, structure and colour - however this shouldn’t imply that they are low sulphur wines as they aren’t - they are about-the-right-amount-of-sulphur-at-the-moment-for-what-we-are-trying-to-achieve wines!
Dry Riesling. Current release is 2004 - something a little different as well in that we are putting a maturing wine into the marketplace. As it is a wine that’s essentially about bottle age, we can hand pick and bunch press grapes (no botrytis) which gives a taut, crystalline structure in the juice and finished wine that takes a long time to come around. Usually 2 passes through the vineyard, we use free run juice only for extra austerity! The style would be akin to Alsace grand cru Riesling in that it is mean and steely and tastes of rocks when it’s young and needs to age (in Germany it would be roughly a Spaetlese trocken style). Bottle age brings on some lovely toast and honey notes in the bouquet to go with the mineral. I like to describe this as imagining burning the toast a little in the morning, then scraping it into your stainless steel sink and washing it away with water. The palate picks up some lovely cream/condensed milk flavours and reminds me of a bowl of tinned mandarins and cream.
Classic Riesling. Is a blend of base wines from all three of the subsections on the estate - up to 20% hand pick in here too (we could do more but the price would have to go up). Machine harvesting gives that hint of furry phenolic that makes the wine more approachable when young. Will age beautifully but doesn’t need it, a more generous wine that can be drunk young and fresh. You have described it Doug as a Kabinett style which I think is fine - but would be a Kabinett from a warmer area where they tend to have higher alcohols at 10-10.5%. I see it as a Spaetlese halbtrocken or feinherb style - we hang the grapes out a bit longer than for dry and select, maybe two weeks, with the RS being at the top end for halbtrocken and the alcohol providing just that bit more body you can get in these wines. It’s a floral wine with jasmine and honeysuckle and maybe you can imagine lemon and orange blossom too.
Select Riesling. Small production at max 140cs - introduced 2003. Maybe 3 passes through the VY, bunches selected on their colour - bronze on the front, green on the back and no botrytis. Bunches green on the front stay on the vine for later styles. Inspiration is Mosel Spaetlese style with low alcohol being very much the key, eg the 07 we tasted is 8%, 2005 was highest at 9% and 08 is 7.5% (mission accomplished!). This wine is the stoniest of all our Rieslings - it must be a balance/structure thing. Some nice lemon curd flavours too.
Noble Riesling. Is a labour of love - in every way a hand made wine. Small production of 2500 bottles max - often less. Fermented in all sorts of weird and wonderful containers from old oak barrels, stainless steel barrels to 50L beer kegs and 23L glass carbouys. Style is Auslese Gold Capsule or Starred (see Dr Loosen website for some nice notes on these sorts of things), in that there is clean juice in there as well and the alcohol is low, 7-8%. Away from the “mainstream” sweet wine style in NZ (if there is one) because of its pretty taut acidity and balance of flavours. Most people who taste it get it - apart from wine show judges on the odd occasion that this wine has found its way into shows (we want no more of that - as the song says). Complex wine that’s easy or hard to describe depending how you look at it - if you can think of a flavour then I’m betting we can imagine it in there somewhere. Great wine between courses - like a sorbet - as it’s not too alcoholic.
Note on Praedikat comparisons. The modern way seems to be to downgrade wines by at least one or two praedikat levels - so I have tried to make comparisons on that basis. 15-20 years ago, Select Riesling may well have been an Auslese wine in some vintages.
Pinot Gris. 100% hand picked, bunch pressed. Now a single estate wine. Style is Alsace and definitely not Grigio (at least commercially popular Grigio - there are some nicely textured, full flavoured Grigio wines from Italy as you well know - I would love to know how Grigio rose made it’s bow though… ) We have moved away from the mainstream a little by introducing wild ferment in old wood and stainless barrels with batonnage weekly for 7-8 months on about 25% of the wine to add texture, complexity and an element of seriousness (?) to the wine. We will continue to work down this line and maybe have some solids in the ferments as well. A versatile food wine that I like to describe as a bit like apfelstruedel which conjures up a meld between baked apple, raisin, spice and pastry flavours, maybe with a dash of cream or custard as well after a bad day if you like.
Gewurztraminer. 100% hand picked, bunch pressed, single estate wine, small blend at app 200 cs max. Aromatic wine that can be a little over the top. We have tried to tone it down this year with 20% wild ferment in old oak with weekly batonnage which brings in lovely textural qualities as well as flavour complexity. Rosewater, musk, exotic spices and stonefruit flavours are watchwords to my mind. Good with pork.
Pinot Noir. Aiming for a feminine style (ie charming, elegant, graceful etc) without big structure. However - no short cuts taken. Low cropped fruit, 100% hand harvested. 5 days cold soak but off skins when ferments are dry rather than any extended maceration. Only app 23% new oak - not looking to add to much structure with wood and want to keep varietal perfume as well as savoury character. 10 months in French oak only.
Blind tasting chez Philippe
The serried ranks of decanters were lined up with military precision their vinous booty glistening teasingly. God forbid we were going to drink the stuff within; instead we were going to wrestle with the fundamentals of identity. I had to decide, coming off a cold and sore thought, if I felt lucky, punk, and whether the sensitivity of my palate would allow me to shoot judgements unerringly from the lip…
First wine: Pale-lemon yellow in colour with greenish glints the first wine, idling in the decanter, didn’t give away much on the nose other than a certain austere vinosity. I chewed the palate – it seemed oily yet grainy with a touch of green apples, herbs and dry mineral. My immediate inclination was to travel to Alsace and Riesling, but I normally find wines to be a touch more revealing of their varietal character. The wine had the colour, but none of the lacy, ethereal quality of a German Riesling (even a trocken style). Moving further afield I couldn’t detect the floral/fruity quality associated with whites from South West France nor the Loire, and the delicate hue certainly didn’t betoken wine hailing (or sunning) from a warm Mediterranean climate. I have, however, previously tasted Burgundies which displayed similar characteristics especially those made naturally and with minimal filtering or addition of sulphur. A relatively young win it did not possess the crisp, flinty-and-shell attack of a northern Burgundy such as Chablis. I tasted again and squeezing the juice against my gums to extract every last globule of flavour, I picked up notes of warm apple and smoked citrus that always make me think of Macon and occasionally Pouilly-Fuisse which has been fermented or aged in old barrels.
My guess: Low sulphur organic Macon
Wine: Valle Isarco Riesling Kaiton, Peter Pliger
Too much shilly-shallying. Should have stuck to my guns
Number two had a cloudy-cidery hue indicative of prolonged skin maceration, and, despite the fact that the identity of the wine evidently resided in the long, long grass of left field, made me feel more comfortable in that I could immediately eliminate large swatches of unsuitable candidates. Checking on the nose… no tell-tale salty yeast notes, so neither a Jura wine nor funky vin de voile. This left me to profile the skin contact merchants of northern Italy, and, in particular, Friuli. The wine was not obviously aromatic (ruling out Malvasia and Tocai), nor did it possess the stunning, vivid, glistening peachtone that the Princic wines always have. I was tempted towards the understated Vitovska of Benjamin Zidarich; the acidity and breezy palate of that wine was present but the wine was disjointed displaying a tightly wound minerality with, at the same time, almost lactic notes. Vitovska has a dry relentless crunching minerality as if the wine had been carved out of the very limestone; this lacked that exacting precision and darting purity of fruit. Eventually, I ducked out of Friuli and settled further south as I was looking for something with a more Mediterranean accent. Valentini’s wondrous Trebbiano can be dumb even after a couple of hours in the carafe. This wine lacked the dimension or danger of Valentini but I was jiggered if I knew what it was.
My guess: Valentini Trebbiano d’Abruzzo
Wine: Grecanico Dorato Integrale, Marco de Bartoli
No disgrace, but somewhat haphazard speculations
Three sat fatly and beamed in the decanter. The shiny textured gold of late harvest grapes. Beautiful poised citrus notes, yes, ripe citrus, honeysuckle and vanilla, but not quite tropical (Jurancon, for instance, can veer towards mango, sweet grapefruit and even coconut and always has a strong marzipan note). It certainly wasn’t Alsace nor with kind of natural bright acidity did any of the warmer French regions recommend themselves. It was somewhat reminiscent of Sauvignon or Sauv/Sem blend from Bordeaux or Bergerac which had spent time on the lees in new oak although I wasn’t convinced. The barrel-fermented notes combined with the excellent acidity and great minerality let me to speculate about serious Burgundy. There was breadth to the fruit, verging on unctuousness but the acidity was perfect, holding it in check, perhaps not the finesse nor elegance of typical Puligny nor the richer base notes of some Chassagnes. Great Burgundy always expresses that tension between the fruit and minerality, but possibly restrained Meursault from a vintage with longevity. One thing worried me was that I can’t remember thinking of Meursault in terms of the following fruit descriptors: fresh, sweet pineapple, honeydew – this golden wine was too generous and come hither and lacking the chewy, spicy, mealy quality of great Burgundy.
My guess: Meursault Perrieres 2002
Wine: Montlouis Le Volagre, Stephane Cossais 2005
Overegged this vinous pudding.
The first red from decanter exuded breezy purple fruit. I loved the nose, very natural, wild flowers, hints of freshly churned earth, baked bread, cranberries and a prickle of CO2. With that mineral verve it must be Gamay from old vines from one of the top cru Beaujolais. My default position on such matters is Foillard (go to the master), but on reflection I should have considered that his wines are normally and layered more luscious and plummy - redolent of macerated dark fruits whereas this Gamay was a tad leaner and livelier, cool rapier steel rather than warm broadsword iron, a brilliant conversationalist rather than a friendly bearhug. My second choice, which was my first choice, was the Fleurie vieilles vignes from Yvon Metras, but I allowed myself the unwarranted luxury of second-guessing the motives of the pourer rather than following my sensory instincts!.
My guess: Morgon, Cote de Py, Jean Foillard (Metras vieilles vignes in the wings!)
Wine: Yvon Metras Fleurie vieilles vignes
No cigar, but a semi-congratulatory, hearty puff on a Gaulloise
At this point I began to relax and felt that I could trust my initial judgement without having to go around the houses. I cleared my mind, shovelled the prejudices back into the coal cellar and poured a glass of the final wine. The colour was faded cherry-red, either some bottle age or a wine made without extraction or both. The nose was gentle and unassuming showing dried fruits (morello cherry, fig), some liquorice and earl grey, a combination of characteristics that led me without deviation to one wine: Cahors, Clos de Gamot. No second guesses, just sit back and smell the dried wild rose petals…
My guess: Cahors, Clos de Gamot, Cuvee Centenaire
Wine: Cahors, Clos de Gamot, Cuvee Centenaire
Epatant & Bingo!
When one reaches a decision so quickly (as a result of the information stored in one’s memory being instantly accessed) it seems like cheating, as if one knows the answer already (for, in a sense, one does). The art of blind tasting revolves around the science of studious deduction, although I will always liken it to pulling out a pin and lobbing a few guess grenades. Once in a while the logician in me crunches away until nothing is left but the answer. The journey with its detours and numerous cul de sacs, is more important than the destination; it is the spirit of the game, the senses a-tingle as they try to suck every last atom of data from the liquid, the expectation as one denies certain possibilities (that bridge is burnt!), the horrible, sinking feeling that one is making an absolute fool of oneself. Seasoned guessers endeavour to elicit information from the host, throwing out seemingly off-hand rhetorical observations. It is an exercise, keeping us fit and sharp, stretching our knowledge to its maximum encouraging collaboration between analysis and instinct, although ultimately it is better to cultivate an air of insouciance whilst furiously racking your brains for the answer.
In blind tasting, as in all forms of tasting, we have on – and off – days. Our senses may be cold; we don’t feel the wine in any way, shape or form. Our critical apparatus can compensate for a lot and logic can help to deconstruct a wine and to learn its identity. Our instincts are our super broadband connection to our memory and lead us in a click to the truth. On those (rare) days tasting becomes a kind of magic and we seem totally in tune with ourselves and with wine.
Magic Mark Ups - Travesties and Honest Practice
The one benefit of a recession, said a wine merchant to me in 1991, is that good businesses emerge from it stronger, pared down and more efficient. Failure, he expounded further, is nature’s way of culling mediocrity. The amateurs, the transients, the get-rich-quick merchants are most likely to be found out as their enterprises are constructed on a whim and a prayer. (Unfortunately, so are some sustainable businesses who have the bad luck to be caught up in the melee).
Business, over the years, has become about business as short term gain - only collect as EM Forster did not write - rather than creating loyalty and enduring friendship. As the collapse of the banking industry has amply demonstrated, short-termism is baseless and to be deplored. Successful enterprises require strong underpinnings, which involves building good will. For historical reasons the relationships between restaurants and their suppliers have become unbalanced.
During the boom period it became so ridiculously easy to raise capital for quick expansion that some restaurants became bloated and lazy and began to lose sight not only of the fundamentals of hospitality but also the tenets of constructing a viable business. Notwithstanding the obvious proposition that a business, for example, should grow within its means, the belief that it was necessary to grow quickly at all costs, created a series of unwarranted assumptions in the way commerce could be negotiated between restaurateurs and their suppliers. The former would look for the best deals, ranging from heavy discounts and extended credit terms to retrospectives, free stock and even to cash gifts and holidays. Since wine merchants didn’t want to bite the hand that would eventually pay them they were content to go along with what was a patently lopsided arrangement. In short, the wine merchants and other suppliers were subsidising the success (or otherwise) of restaurants, whilst the intense competition to gain or retain business meant that their own profit margins were being damaged.
Accountants, bless them, are employed either to protect or ratchet up the gps. This entails pushing the supplier for greater discounts, trying to prevent price rises, deferring payment and a host of other weasel tricks. For the true beancounter a net strong gp is actually more important than a busy restaurant because economic variables can be understood, managed and monitored. Truly, these people know the cost of everything and the value of nothing. The typical business spreadsheet is the classic example of financial wish fulfilment. A spreadsheet posits theoretical profit and loss scenarios according to purchase and selling prices, but does not take the psychological temperature of customers, nor does it factor in macro-economics (recession and depression). There is a “tip-over point” in the fortunes of every restaurant when customers perceive it as poor value for money, a qualitative rather than a quantitative judgement. In the flexible economy you may build your house on stone, but you should still be prepared for shifting sands.
The GP, qua brute GP, has long been the consolation of bean counters and the bane of wine drinkers. Restaurateurs, fancying themselves as entrepreneurs, enamoured by the notion of exponential growth, also began to recite the mantra about hitting their “GPs”. Wine was given punitive mark-ups, and, over the years, the scale of the margin increased steadily from 65% to 70%, until now it is not unusual to see 75% and 78% averages.
So, bottles of wine are routinely and shamefully marked up four or five times and people don’t bat an eyelid. But they will. Wine is already taxed to the hilt, and every time there is a price rise, restaurants use it as an excuse to increase their net profit margin. Because they are so adamant about maintaining a consistently elevated GP, a wine which has increased by, say, £1, can and will be marked up by £3.50 (a net extra cash profit of £2.50). Meanwhile, other restaurants search for cheaper wines to hit their rigged price points. Until buyers perceive that glass ceilings on prices are just that - ceilings which must be shattered - wine lists will become all the poorer as choice steadily diminishes.
These regressive approaches are counterintuitive in a recession when it is crucial to get people through the door and to convey value for money, whether you own a bar, café or Michelin starred restaurant. In the real world of real bums on real seats, real people are deciding where to spend their hard earned. Perception is everything and I could give an unhealthy roll call of places where value and quality is subservient to the bottom line. If you insult a customer once, you insult them forever. The main problem with multiplying axiomatically by a fixed margin is that you end with a price that bears no relation to the real value of the wine. It is therefore commonplace to see massive differentials between restaurants for the same wine according to who has applied a rigorous gp and who has applied a variable or cash mark up.
Wine buying, especially for groups and larger establishments, has become formulaic. The product is often sourced to fit the margin. As prices naturally rise, this inevitably leads, as I have said, to a diminution of quality. When you purchase food for a restaurant you can be creative by looking at cheaper but equally delicious cuts of meat or other types of fish. You can buy seasonally which also helps with cost. You can eliminate wastage with carefully planned menus. Cheap wine is cheap for a damned good reason; remove the duty from the equation and the cheap wines are almost invariably mass-produced, anaemic and dreary. You wouldn’t go to a restaurant to eat a battery farmed chicken, nor should you pay over the odds for mediocre, industrial wine.
The equitable solution is for restaurants to apply a cash margin to wines on the list. This might be £10, £15 or £20. It might be a fixed or variable cash margin. Several benefits would accrue. Firstly, the value of the wine would be clear. Secondly, more expensive wines would be affordable to a more customers, incentivising them to spend more money on better wines which, in turn, would create a culture of interesting and informed wine drinking. Attractive pricing in turn allows for greater rotation of stock which ensures better cash flow. There are plenty of good examples where cash margins are used effectively, and it is no coincidence that these are currently amongst the busiest restaurants in London.
Now that we are in a recession it is an opportunity to re-establish good practice. Restaurateurs can either squeeze suppliers for better deals (perhaps squeeze them into oblivion) or take some responsibility at last. If they use recession as an opportunity to reinvigorate their lists by critically examining their margins and employing clever initiatives to upsell, I commend them. The morality of business is to survive virtuously, to build solid foundations for the future and to be a link in the chain between happy customers and happy suppliers.
More Thoughts About Recession
Imagine that a bank is an elephant and a wine merchant is a mouse. There is a fire in the forest (credit squeeze/recession), the frightened elephant stampedes and squashes the mouse.
Small wine companies might well be more adaptable and imaginative than larger ones, but one blow (a big, bad debt, for example) can bring them to their knees.
The companies that will best survive this recession are structurally sound with low debt exposure, manageable overheads and thus will be able to control the huge risks. Wine merchants, particularly those that deal with the on-trade, have operated for too long giving extended credit terms and generous discounts (analogous to banks giving big mortgages); now they are going to have to tighten up the way they conduct business.
The forthcoming recession will be a storm and there will be plenty of collateral damage. Brilliant strategy will aid survival, but is still no guarantee (a lot of companies will probably have to refinance - if that is an option). Everyone will necessarily sharpen their game, but there will be unpredictable chain reactions. This is not evolution as we know it, but catastrophe theory.
Not all sides of the wine trade will suffer equally. Supermarkets will continue to flourish and online companies who are competitive because of their low overheads should do reasonably well.
And let’s not forget the other variables that affect the wine trade and over which wine companies have no control, specifically the exchange rate.
Spoofy Wines - Overegged and Over Here
There are many wines that taste great, but do not drink well.” --- Michael Broadbent.
Spoofy wines are born in the vineyard with long hang time for the grapes and the achievement of phenolic (super)-ripeness all of which creates the template for a rich wine. In the winery it is natural to assess the quality of fruit and select an appropriate wardrobe. The richer the base wine, the more lavish the garnish – making the wine “foursquare” supposedly optimises its potential. (Potential to gain critical approval). E.B. White wrote pertinently: “I would feel more optimistic about a bright future for man if he spent less time proving that he can outwit Nature and more time tasting her sweetness and respecting her seniority”
The main problem with spoofed up wines is that the primary ingredients – fruit and terroir – end up subservient to the process of wine making. Consider that the flavour of the most beautifully reared meat or the wildest, freshest tasting fish is rarely enhanced by elaborate accompaniments; the less there is on the plate the more the sheer quality of the central ingredient is highlighted. A balanced wine expresses its fruit simply and is the more drinkable for that. However, there is a breed of winemakers with an indefatigable desire to impress, who wish to create a product to be admired rather than one for drinking - as if superimposing layer upon layer of artifice is the basis of great art.
To gild refined gold, to paint the lily,
To throw a perfume on the violet,
To smooth the ice, or add another hue
Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light
To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish,
Is wasteful and ridiculous excess.
Whether you are pooped up super-taster or an absolute beginner, critical responses are inevitably conditioned by the dimension of the wine. In a big line up of wines breadth of flavour is often confused with length. Quantity will be rewarded over quality when subtler wines keep their counsel; the latter may possess an individual arc of development, or require food to show them in their best light. If this were not the case a greater variety of wine styles would surely walk away with the plaudits, but, as it is, medals are invariably awarded to high octane numbers. Expect the typical spoofy wine to have a smooth veneer, oak-a-plenty and alcohol- and-residual sugar to burn. Since everything is ramped up proportionately the essential wine is submerged, spoofy wines are as solid noise is to melodic music. I am not saying that big is bombastic per se – the great Chateauneufs are not what one would call shrinking violets – even power can channel and express the purity of the terroir.
Over the years my palate has changed dramatically and I am a firm advocate of the “less is more” school. Whilst I try to judge each wine on its merits I wonder how people are taken in by the admittedly buxom, but undoubtedly shallow, charms of certain wines which, to put it mildly, are vamped-up plum puddings with an ancillary vanillary veneer.
I would question the motivation for making tricked-up monolithic wines. Once upon a time, having cauterised my tongue on a Malbec with almost incendiary levels of alcohol, I asked an Argentinean producer whether he would consider toning down the volume of his wines. The UK market, I ventured, preferred less heft in their wines. He snorted: “I am not making the wine for the UK market; America is far more important to me”. By America he meant Robert Parker – from the grape to the glass these wines were forged to please a critic’s palate, one that notionally values wine in terms of its impact, its booming bang for a lot of bucks.
Wine can make beautiful shapes in the mouth. I enjoy linear wines wherein soothing, natural acidity drives the liquid across the taste buds and leads it effortlessly into every palatal nook and cranny. I also like wines that fill the mouth with layers of flavour wherein the pleasure lies in unveiling various nuances; I love tasting the minerals – stones, metals, earth, grass, water – these elements for me delineate the shape of the wines giving them precise focus and edge.
Spoofy wines are pretentious because they try to be better than they are; they ignore their subtle inner potential in favour of flummery and overstatement. They are predicated on a hierarchy of richness. The way in which they are made obscures the typicity of the terroir and the flavour of the grape. . They can be amazing, but so can vulgarity; they have the trappings of greatness, but none of the real class.
Red Vinho Verde anyone?
Another side, umbrageous grots and caves
Of cool recess, o’er which the mantling vine
Lays forth her purple grape
Paradise Lost
Vinho Verde is the product of its micro-climate; the result of the richness and purity of the land which is the legacy of centuries of agriculture; a sandy, granitic soil that endows the wines with a special acidity and minerality: these are the main features of the terroir. A classic teinturier grape (see Alicante Bouschet and Saperavi) Vinhão is one of the oddities in which the juice from the flesh is crimson not clear. The red grapes, after being destalked go directly into fermentation vats or the “lagares” together with their skins, where they go through a process of maceration in order to maximize the extraction of colour and polyphenolic elements.
Dark as the inside of a coal mine at midnight the Afros Vinho Verde has impenetrable opacity, presents a slightly prickly sensation in the mouth and then bursts out smilingly with thick gobs of bramble jam and exotic black cherries and black raspberries. The tannins are chewy, agreeably abrasive, and, twinned with the angular acidity, create a pucker-sour-sizzle combination which confronts the palate with plenty of difficult textural adjustments. You can almost smell the colour of this distilled purple juice; it’s as if the skins had been freshly ripped off the flesh and just finished fermenting in the glass. The texture is part stalky and part bitter chocolate but it is the kinetic acidity that simultaneously drives the tannins over the gums and helps to alleviate their astringency.
This is a prime example where cultural context might provide the narrative necessary to appreciate the spirit of the wine. Served chilled with some slow cooked shoulder of pork or one of those artery-coating Asturian bean stews this wine’s snappy vitality would not only cut through, but dissolve, fat. I can think of few better drinks to be supped al fresco, preferably in a carafe, where the thrilling, almost unreal intensity of the colour and the joyfully rasping rusticity would seem to laugh in the face of wine convention.
Instead I had to make do with drinking it on cold winter’s night with a sharp-fanged Thai curry, a surprisingly delicious combo. By the third glass the bottle had warmed up to room temperature and the wine had a rounder, fuller nose and was more vinous, more integrated, with softer tannins. It was still defiantly Vinho Verde capturing the essence of Keats’s famous lines from Ode to a Nightingale of a wine “cooled for a long age in the deep delv’d earth… With beaded bubbles winking at the brim/And purple-stained mouth"… and purple stained fingers (so I found) and purple stained wine glass…
Beating the Recession - Food (and Wine) for Thought
How small restaurants can survive and thrive: By Mark Hix
My observations in italics
Everyone in the industry is feeling the pinch at the moment, so it’s at times like this you have to keep your head down and really keep your customers happy. If they’re going to survive, restaurants have got to raise their game, look more closely at what they’re doing, and give better value. The most damaging expense for restaurateurs isn’t wages, rent or even food – it’s losing customers.
Raising the game is about being seen to be generous. What distinguishes one restaurant from another is the attention paid to detail. It is about recognizing the individual needs of the customers; it is about those little gestures and intimate acknowledgements that transform the eating out experience from a quotidian one into something special – and memorable. It is about being adaptable without jeopardising the principles upon which the restaurant is built.
To me service is one of the most significant areas where restaurants need to improve their offering. Customers will not put up with laziness or arrogance any more. There is an amazing choice of places to eat out, but it is also difficult to escape for less than £40 a head. Second-rate service consequently leaves more of a bad taste in the mouth than poor food or wine and is the result of a lack of passion. Passion cannot be instilled by people who have no experience of the hospitality industry, who see customers merely in terms of covers and “spend per head.”
Value is key, and that doesn’t just mean a cheaper menu, it means being more careful about what you’re spending, yet still giving your customers quality food. When I opened my Oyster & Chop House last April, we put lots of lesser-known cuts of meat on the menu. Things like flank cuts, cheeks and shins, which might usually end up in the butcher’s mincer but, with skilful cooking, are delicious. Better still, they’re cheaper than an expensive fillet that doesn’t taste of anything. It’s the same with cheaper fish. I’m a big fan of gurnard, herring and mackerel.
Too many restaurateurs believe that they have to compromise standards to retain business. By sacrificing quality it is evident to their customers that they are running scared. Mark Hix suggests some creative options on the food front: buy, cook and serve cheap, tasty cuts of meat or less fashionable types of fish, for example. I deal with people who rant and rave over a 50p price wine increase. They should overcome their meanspiritedness, examine their own business and find the solution there. Rice, eggs, flour – these and many other staples have increased in the last year by as much as 300%. Have menu prices increased commensurately? Of course not. There is a sense that wine should be completely recession-proof, that suppliers should take it on the chin and absorb everything.
If restaurants are afraid of losing custom during a recession they should improve quality. If they feel the necessity of dropping their prices that is their own decision – they should not be subsidized by their suppliers who have their own problems to worry about.
Some more enterprising restaurants run half price wine promotions to get customers through the door, for example. Others include a half bottle of wine in the cost of a set meal.
Restaurants are constantly courted, primped and pampered by their wine suppliers. So competitive is the wine trade that there is an assumption that freebies are available at all times. Often they don’t work to build the trust in the first place; they expect the wine merchant to front up with big discounts, free stock and extended payment plans.
Asking your supplier to slice margins through the bone into the marrow is fantasy; making your restaurant relevant to the times is what is essential.
The good restaurateur understands the process from the farm to the plate and from the vine to the wine glass. They understand the financial implications of duty, tax, raw material cost, transport, storage, vintage quality (and thus the vagaries of supply and demand), growers’ margins, wine buyers’ margins, break even point, just in time. Many restaurateurs, however, see wine as a product and a fixed bottom line cost. These people have a narrow view of the business; quality is secondary; they confuse consistency with inflexibility.
You’ve also got to give your customers choice. A lot of restaurateurs think they have to have every starter under £10 and every main under £20, but it’s more sensible to have a range. We might have a mackerel main course on the menu for £10 and then something like a sea bass for £25. If you don’t give people the option to spend more, they’re not going to.
Yes, there is an abiding notion that restaurants have to conform to models. I have one account that refuses to have any wines above £25 on the list and all those wines at an unswerving margin of 70% gp. This means, almost by definition, that the list gets poorer every year. Meanwhile, where’s the choice for the customer who would like to spend more?
The gross profit margin, as I have argued elsewhere, was probably invented by someone who spent too much time with spreadsheets. If you want to live in la-la land examine a graph. Graphs are about constants; they can’t map human psychology or cope with the unexpected. Restaurateurs, however, deal with real people paying real money for a complete experience.
Wine is always important, and different restaurants mark it up in different ways. You either go big to get maximum profit on each bottle, or you do what we do and give your customers a bit more value on higher end wines to encourage them to buy a second bottle. I’ve also started putting a few magnums on the menu. They’re twice the size of standard bottles and are reasonably priced, from around £40 upwards, but it’s also something a bit special for tables to share.
It is important to rotate your stock, to sell the higher end wines (which are tying up money and therefore constricting cash flow). Clever restaurants will mark up creatively using flat cash margins to promote experimentation and intelligent drinking. The better the perceived value the greater the likelihood that customers will trade up and come back.
Too many restaurants go down the path of gross profit margins rather than focusing on cash generation. As the saying goes: You can’t bank percentages. A half-empty establishment which realizes grotesque gross (operative word) profit margins is a business on the edge of a breakdown; it is alienating its clientele who will surely drift to restaurants that understand the importance of giving value for money. Every empty seat is a visual reproach and a financial drain. In being greedy some restaurateurs effectively sign their own death warrants.
Meat isn’t getting any cheaper, nor is fish, but restaurants can’t afford to fall out with their suppliers. Too many people take advantage by not paying on time, but the industry needs to tighten up on this. You wouldn’t walk into a restaurant as a customer and say, “Do you mind if I pay for my dinner in two months?”
Your suppliers are as important as your staff, and you’ve got to be able to trust each other, especially when times are tough.
Truer words were never spoken. Too many restaurants take liberties with their suppliers. Credit, for example, is about trust. Terms and conditions of sale may be legally specific, but loads of latitude is given by suppliers. Sneaking extra days to pay shows that the restaurant probably doesn’t have the wherewithal to survive on its own legs. Lack of communication is another problem. Many restaurateurs, embarrassed by cash flow problems, deliberately avoid contacting their suppliers to inform them of their difficulties. Less scrupulous operators play off one supplier against another or open new accounts when their account is put on stop. In these straitened times suppliers will start applying the letter of the law with regards to credit control. Wine merchants will, quite rightly, walk away from deals, where they suspect the motives of the restaurateur. This is the problem of one-sided relationships; exploitation breeds mistrust.
Another big mistake is spending too much on design. The Chop House had a very low budget for refit. We kept a lot of the fixtures and fittings that were in the restaurant that used to be in the building, and kept things simple. You can blow a million pounds on a new restaurant and watch it flop. It comes down to having a good business sense. A lot of restaurants start up without any internal financial knowledge, and can go for months on end without knowing where they are. You can’t get away with that – you need to know exactly how much you’ve made, or lost, from week to week.
Several years ago a lot of entrepreneurs started opening restaurants. Not knowing anything about the business they used design consultants who charged them a fortune and made them spend a fortune with the objective of creating iconic design. Who knows what stands the test of time? It was so easy to raise money from investors who saw cash-rich restaurants with their high profit margins as a means of getting rich quickly. Nothing could be further from the truth. Restaurants have to sustain themselves otherwise they will fail in the long term. Mark Hix is correct in saying that restaurateurs must be able to assess where they are financially on a weekly basis.
Nor must they be complacent when things are going well. You are only as good as your last performance and as strong as your weakest link. They must understand what galvanises people to spend money, and appreciate that they are in the business of making those people feel welcome, relaxed and satisfied.
Surviving is about the whole package – there isn’t any one thing you can do to stay strong, but if you’ve got good food and a good atmosphere, you’re halfway there.
It may sounds like karmic vindication, but generally it is the intelligent, passionate, generous, owner-led-and-run restaurants that survive recessions and the overinflated, insensitive, greedy, short-termist projects that go to the wall.
Mark Hix is resident chef for the ‘Independent’ Magazine. He has two restaurants, Hix Oyster & Chop House in Smithfield, London; and Hix Oyster & Fish House in Lyme Regis, Dorset, and was formerly chef director of the Caprice Group
The Independence of Wine Writers
Everyone likes a good marking. “Grade me, grade me” demanded Lisa Simpson. It is a chance for me to rate the wine writers, journalists and opinion formers. The prospect of such power make me swoon. Caparisons, as someone doubtless once malapropped, are odorous, but smelly, or not, we like to know where we stand.
There’s often a disjunction between the opinions of the person I know and what they write. Were journalists allowed free rein they would be writers and express independent opinions more forcefully as it is the nature of magazines and newspapers to require cut-and-splice. The spirit of compromise prevails – often wine writers end up penning advertorials for certain regions and the average wine writer needs bend in so many directions – the need to be relevant, the need to identify trends, the need to be an agony aunt to the average consumer. The truth is more complex than simply what’s hot and what’s not, but the anxiety to shape the subject matter to fit the lifestyle pages shows how feeble is the editorial understanding of the subject matter. The by-product of such dumbing down is an invertebrate deference towards brands and supermarkets as if universal availability was a positive virtue, but even this stance is disingenuous. It would be easy for the wine writer to become jaded and institutionalised knowing as they do that the advertisers determine the agenda.
I also miss the style of writing that communicates a deep love for the subject. Perhaps I have a romantic notion the juice of the grape will inspire a measure of intoxication, or, at any rate, liberation. Although many of our journalists have good knowledge and write with technical proficiency there is an absence of soul in their offerings. By steering clear of controversy they are not tackling many of the issues that matter most in wine. Ultimately, their job is to recommend products to consumers. Part of the problem is that the journalists must be seen as much as the wines to stay in the loop. The loop is actually a commercial noose, for all the time they spend at major tastings (sampling the same things they’ve tried a dozen times)You can’t be a professional naysayer in the wine trade or take on vested interests; no-one will invite you to tastings, regional and national wine associations will make you persona non grata. I’m not saying that journalists are obsequious or complaisant, but that they are naturally exposed to pressures, subliminal or otherwise, that contribute to shaping the articles they write.
When I first became interested in wine the literary colossi were the genial Hugh Johnson, Serena Sutcliffe and Michael Broadbent, all twinkling decorum. Wine was the province of the enlightened amateur: Cyril Ray, John Arlott, Auberon Waugh. Johnson was a great stylist, one could imagine sitting around a table while he holds court. Wine was remote, very much the province of the upper classes and bound closely to tradition. Eventually, it became democratised; for this we have to thank the supermarkets and a breed of new young (some not so young any more) writers. Here is a small selection of those whom I admire:
Oz Clarke is certainly the great communicator. He is a natural, fascinating to converse with and brimming with a fund of great anecdotes. He writes with sprightly flourishes and boundless enthusiasm and can pull the most far-flung metaphors from the distant horizons and make them appear like the most just observations. Not only is he good at demystifying the subject but his recommendations have the evangelical insistence of a Mrs Doyle pressing a cup of tea on one.
Turning a beautiful phrase, writing with kinetic power and observing detail with a poet’s eye, Andrew Jefford’s language is eloquent and sensitive. He seems thoroughly engaged with where he is and able to empathise with whom he is talking to: he is not writing celebrity profiles or looking for the sound-bite but seems invite the confessional response. His book New France ought to be considered one of the best wine books of the decades for he manages to capture the colours, sounds and smells of the countryside, you can hear the growers talking and everything rendered in limpid prose. If I give the impression that it is airy-fairy it is anything but, there is a wealth of detail. Andrew Jefford is the poet laureate of the wine world. He writes with kinaesthetic fervour, the dirt is not just under his fingernails but the nib of his pen. No brings to life more clearly the romance of wine, the smells, the sensations of the countryside and vineyard (imagine a Seamus Heaney of the wine world), no one is more comfortable with engaging with the esoteric or outlandish theories of growers or renders their homespun philosophy with such sympathy. This is terroir writing…
Few can match Jancis Robinson for prolific output and sheer authoritativeness. Her web-site is testament to hard work and conscientious research and has become the greatest forum in the world for debate and exchange of information. She writes with admirable clarity, dry humour (signifying formidable knowledge) and with considerable discernment; effortlessly and efficiently pouring forth descriptions, information and opinion. If you asked other wine writers whom they respect amongst their fellow scribes Jancis would deservedly be amongst the first named.
Tim Atkin writes for various periodicals. He has formidable knowledge, holds strong opinions and is refreshingly uninhibited in his use of language. To me he is one of most modern writers, able to condense an argument and get straight to the point.
Some writers have to work within the limited space allocated. Victoria Moore’s column, despite being suffocated in a tiny cul-de-sac, is full of lovely vignettes, smart apercus, kinetic tasting notes and thoroughly imaginative food matches. She deserves a larger playground to roam in.
Jamie Goode is a fascinating read on the science and philosophy of wine, a subject that few others dare to tackle. He is certainly amongst the most open-minded of writers. His wine blog (which does cover subjects other than wine) is one of the best forums for readers to unload their opinions. The web-site is brilliant and visually stimulating with plenty of browsing appeal for the beginners and the wine geeks alike.
There are many other fine established and embryonic wine writers. I like Natasha Hughes, Joanna Simon, Anthony Rose, Simon Woods and Philip Williamson.
I am going to say something that will shock you to the quick as you will think that I am licking the splayed toads of the establishment but I believe that most writers and journalist do a very good job. They work hard, they know their stuff, they love the business. It still strikes me that some of the trade mags are filled with unmitigated drivel and spurious sound-bites, but intelligent debate can be only be fostered if more space is given to writers to explore issues in depth and not to reduce arguments to caricatures of positions. A pertinent example of this was the recent knuckle-headed Channel 4 Dispatches programme which missed every trick in the book by treating its audience like morons and by focusing so intently on certain targets that it missed shedding light on the less salubrious aspects of the wine trade.
I also believe that the agenda in the wine trade is set by the big brands and the supermarkets – money talks as loudly as ever - and whilst once upon a time some journalists were complicit in this (newspaper advertising after all was being paid for by the brands that they were writing about), most now have the independence and the confidence to call it as they see it. The supermarkets and brands will still spend a lot of time and money courting the opinion of the movers and shakers, but they should not expect the trade to swallow what they pump out (wine or press releases). Journalists, however, are still editorially constrained by having to write about what is perceived as relevant wine (i.e. wine that is widely available) although this is a classic bogus assumption – there are whole areas of the UK where there isn’t a Tesco, Sainsbury’s, Waitrose or an M&S.
Wine writers have been further unshackled by their blogs. The art of blogs is to write little and often, rather than trying to present a fabulous dialectical disquisition on every subject under the sun. The danger of such blog entries is that they read like sound-bites. The advantage is that you can record spontaneous musings and keep it fresh and lively and the only editorial interference you suffer is your own. Wine blogs still largely celebrate wine and make recommendations, but they can also shine a light into the darker recesses of the wine trade and challenge perceived orthodoxies.
Not Oaky-Dokey
So I said to Carlo: “Let’s drink something dangerous”. In retrospect I’m not sure what I meant by that. Partly I meant “Let’s spend more money than we would normally do on a bottle of wine and risk being disappointed, but the sneaking, faux-natural, quasi-spiritual part of me wanted to sample an extreme wine that would trip the light fandango and send tiny squalls of reverberating flavours to the outer limits of my palate. Or something.
I ordered a rich Marmandais wine. The cuvee above the cuvee, so to speak. More is more, right?
At first the upfront fruit fronted up, but after a couple of snifters I feel like Woody Woodpecker rattling my beak against a solid oak tree. As the wine opened up it closed down, as if knackered by extreme lacquer, classic old Duke of York style: It marched all the fruit up the hill, then it marched it down.
And the wood tannins grew and grew and my tongue became enveloped in leather. That oak – not so much a structural corset as a dense overlay of toasty sweetness bruléed by an overenthusiastic blowtorch. I mentally contrasted this with a ridiculously drinkable, unassumingly rustic Marcillac from jester-grower Jean-Luc Matha that I had consumed the previous night single-handedly. It had slithery red fruits, was tinged with graphite and edged with iron and blood. This wine condensed the sentiment “I sneer at your oak and I generally thumb my bulbous nose at your extraordinary pretensions” into the concise command “Drink me!”
The trouble with the wine from Marmande, other than the fact that Carlo and I could barely manage a third of a bottle between us is that it was the wrong wine at the wrong time. One doesn’t drink to analyse and disinter the various components and qualities (or otherwise). Wine should move naturally, the bottle should empty itself into your glass without effort, but these clumpen, oaky, almost bathycolpian wines have a way of stopping you in your tracks and clogging your very taste buds.
I wonder whether I simply find the presence of new oak in wine rebarbative? Or, is it more a question of balance? Most wines do not need oak to be great; we don’t measure quality by breadth. I divide wines into the kinetic (driving across the palate) and the azoic (those rendered lifeless by over extraction of flavour). The curse of the super cuvée is that the wine may never come to terms with itself and digest the oak which, in turn, will make the wine virtually indigestible to the drinker.
Hatzidakis wines - You can taste the vulcanicity
Last week Haridimos Hatzidakis was in London to meet customers and journalists, present his wines and talk about Santorini.
“Few wines taste of disaster and catastrophe… (one of the most evocative] was born of a volcanic explosion, many times more powerful than Krakatau, which blew the heart out of one of Greece’s Cycladic islands. The exact moment remains conjectural, but recent radiocarbon dating of a buried olive branch suggests sometime around 1614 BC: the wine is the Assyrtiko-based white of Santorini. It is, for me, the most pronounced vin de terroir in the world. In no other wine can you smell and taste with such clarity the mineral soup and bright sunlight which, gene-guided, structures the grape and its juice. As an unmasked terroiriste, there was no vineyard I was keener to visit…
“Santorini has some of the world’s oldest vine roots…in the world’s youngest soils. When you taste a Santorini white, you are tasting a collision in plate tectonics…Like a geological slipped disc, Santorini is where the pain keeps erupting…
(It can only be) Andrew Jefford
Santorini is the southernmost island of the Cycladic group in the Aegean Sea, and is located 63 nautical miles north of Crete. Its surface area is 73 sq. km. and its population, distributed among thirteen villages, just exceeds thirteen thousand six hundred souls (as the guide book quaintly puts it), according to the census of 2001.
The present-day crescent shape of the island is a consequence of the activity of the volcano in prehistoric times. The island itself owes its very existence to the volcano. The last huge eruption of the volcano dates back 3,600 years, in the late Bronze Age. Thirty million cubic metres of magma in the form of pumice and ash were blown to a height of up to 36 kilometres above the island. Pumice deposits, dozens of metres thick, buried the ancient city at Akrotiri, one of the most prosperous pre-historic settlements of that period, feeding the myth of lost Atlantis.
Santorini, therefore, owes its uniqueness to the peculiar ecosystem that was created due to these successive volcanic explosions and lava that burnt rocks and formed a porous terrain of porcelain slabs. The composition of this terrain combined with drought and the island’s microclimate, which is a result of territorial humidity and the morning coolness caused by sea vaporization at the point where the caldera is located, give the produce of this land an extra special taste.
Haridimos produced his first wine back in 1997, and since then he has put his name squarely on the Santorini and Greek wine map. The Santorini vineyard provided a challenge. Most of his vineyards are on the outskirts of the village of Pyrgos Kallistis at a height of 150-300 metres facing north to north-east. He renovated an old ‘canava’, near the village of Pyrgos (the ‘canava’ is a type of building unique to Santorini.. It is built below ground, the roof has the shape of a dome and the building has all the necessary climatic characteristics for the vinification, storing and aging of wines). He has worked organically from the beginning and since then he has managed to apply organic viticulture to every plot of land.
Vines dot the slopes and plains that skirt down from the crater. The soil is a powdery volcanic ash peppered with chunks of pumice stone and black lava. The strong winds which are typical to the island whip up the dust. The resulting sand-blasting effect can so badly damage the grapes that farmers have developed a form of vine training that serves as protection. They wind and tie together several years’ growth of canes into what appears to be a wreath. The wreath lies on the ground. The grape bunches form inside the leaf studded wreath where they are protected from the wind-blown sand. During the harvest, vineyard workers, as if collecting eggs in a henhouse, lift up the wreaths and collect the bunches.
In vinous cloud-cuckoo-land birds lay grapes
The vines are sparsely planted, about eight feet apart. Closer planting would create too much competition for available moisture of which there is little. Throughout the year, rainfall is a rare occurrence. Moist Mediterranean winds lay down a blanket of mist on the ashen soil. The absorbent soil delivers the water to the vine roots. The soil contains very little organic matter. The vines as a result are very small, with tiny yields (15 to 28 hectolitres per hectare). One is struck by the haphazardness of the plantings (haphazidakness?) with these little bushes scattered unevenly across the land. Dotted amongst the Assyrtiko is the odd nubbly Athiri and Voudomato (pronounced Vu-domm-etto vine.
Hatzidakis produces the classic range of Santorini wines and styles: Assyrtiko, the Nykteri, the aged Assyrtiko, the organic Aidani-Assyrtiko, the rare red Mavrotragano, and the all-classic Vinsanto of Santorini dessert wine, the last two in limited quantities.
Making great wines on volcanic plugs is not child’s play...
The first Hatzidakis wine contains Aidani with a little bit of Assyrtiko from non-irrigated, ungrafted, organic old vines. Fermented and matured in stainless steel this appealing white has pale yellow colour with a delicate nose of muscat, roses and apricots with a medium body and that warm fleshy apricot fruit. It is a dry wine (one can sense the puncturing Assyrtiko) but the aromatic Aidani seems to provide a mellow mouthfeel.
Assyrtiko Cuvée 15 is pure organic Assyrtiko, a mixture of old and new vines. After wild yeast ferment the wine is briefly matured in tank. Bone dry with hints of apple skin and notes of melon, long and intense with lemony minerality, terrific acidity and salty nuances, a very pure, uncompromising, but rather wonderful Assyrtiko that relishes chargrilled baby octopus or red mullet. Pronouncing this wine is guaranteed to harden your arteries. Drinking it will unblock them.
Santorini Cuvée 17 is Assyrtiko 90% with a little Aidani and Athiri to soften it from 300+ year old vines (single vineyard with very low yields (12 hl/ha in a good year) grown on volcanic ash soils.
Very dry but also full in the mouth. Pearskin bite, smoky-rubbery aromas rounded out by the softer fruits of the Aidani. This is a classic Santorini blend and Hatzidakis to create a special selection from the best vineyards.
Assyrtiko is one of Greece’s finest multi purpose white grape varieties. It was first cultivated on the island of Santorini, where it has developed a unique character producing excellent AOC wines. Assyrtiko has the ability to maintain its acidity as it ripens. It yields a bone-dry wine that has citrus aromas mixed with an earthy, mineral aftertaste due to the volcanic soil of Santorini. In the last 25 years Assyrtiko has been planted throughout Greece including Macedonia and Attica where it expresses a milder, fruitier character. Assyrtiko can also be used together with the aromatic Aidani and Athiri grapes for the production of the unique, naturally sweet wines called VINSANTO (wine from SANTOrini), well known since Byzantine times.
Historically, the grapes for another wine, called Nykteri, were harvested during the day and then trodden at night. The free run juice was drained into barrels where fermentation completed. Maturation in barrel lasted for several years. Miles Lambert-Gocs, in The Wines of Greece, wrote that the wines were pale in colour and usually reached 15% alcohol. Hatzidakis harvests the grape late and allows low-temperature skin contact with the grape juice for 6 hours. After pressing and clarification, he conducts a classic white wine fermentation. He then matures the Nykteri in five-year-use barrels for six months. The oak does not obscure the fruit, but the wine is somewhat different to the spikier versions of Assyrtiko, being resinous in texture, and suggestive of honey and dried fruits on the nose.
Santorini specials include white aubergines, fava beans and tiny sweet tomatoes. Yiorgos Hatziyannakis’s Selene is one of the best restaurants in Greece. His caviar of white aubergines covered with thin, lightly marinated slices of octopus is apparently a marvel of elegance, as are his little miniature tomato salads served in bowls like sorbets. His cod with saffron and pistachio, and his smoked sardines served with lentils and an orange jelly glorify the minerality and roundness of the white wines of Santorini.
One of the true glories of Santorini is the wine made from sun-dried grapes without any added sugar or alcohol, and aged for at least two years in oak barrels. It is the most authentic continuation of ‘passos’ sweet wine as the ancients used to call it. During the Middle Ages merchant, crusader and pilgrim ships on their way to Constantinople, to the ports of the White Sea, the Venetian markets and to the Holy Land, supplied themselves with this sweet wine by stopping off at Santo Erini-Santorini, as the ancient volcanic island of Thera had been baptized, most likely by Italian sailors, during the Dark Ages. The ‘passos’ of Thera took the name Santo from the first component of the island’s new name. This name became vino di Santorini - vino Santo, Vinsanto during the years of the Frankish occupation in the Venetian markets and across the eastern Mediterranean. This name - in Greek ‘Βινσάντο’ - has survived until today. It simply means: wine of Santorini, and stands for the island’s traditional sun-dried wine. And so it is a ‘historical name of origin’ and one of the very few that have remained ‘alive’ and is now protected in Greece.
It is a naturally sweet VQPRD (vin de qualité produit dans une region determinée) of Santorini and, in other words, is produced from the island’s white varieties Assyrtiko, Aidani and Athiri. The wine owes its colour to the grapes’ exposure to the sun for 12 to 15 days and also to its ageing in oak barrels. That Hatzidakis’s version has terrific freshness on the palate of such a sweet wine is testament to the skill with which this wine has been made. Nuts, apricots, candied fruits are all held together by a fine bolt of acidity.
Finally, the Voudomato (the name of the grape means bull’s eye) is a red sweet wine made from 500 year old ungrafted vines grown on sand and volcanic ash. After harvesting the grapes are laid out to raisin in the sun, before undergoing a slow 60-day fermentation in stainless steel tanks and subsequent five year ageing in old barrels. The colour of the wine is oxblood, the nose reminiscent of liqueur cherries and balsam.
When is a fault not a fault?
Subject: Primitivo Fatalone 2005 – bottles presenting some organoleptic defects
We carried out several chemical and organoleptic tests on our stocks in cellar. As I supposed and mentioned, there was a small secondary enzymic fermentation in progress. This is the natural evolution of the wine, which usually happens very gradually (every year). Natural wines, in particular those with a very low SO2 content, are prone to this transformation and the wines may, consequently, be perceived as defective.
It should be noted that our Primitivo 2005 contains just 35 mg/litre of SO2, whereas the limit allowed by the conventional rules is 200 mg, and 100 mg for organic wines.
The volatility and disjunction caused by the enzyme reaction normally lasts less than two weeks, after which the wine begins to settle; during that transformative period decanting the wine at least 15-30 minutes before tasting reduces the volatility and allows it to stabilise.
Choking on Oak: A Tasting Where More is Less…
After a croissant and a coffee maybe a Cahors or ten is not a good idea, especially when it tastes like ten day old stewed tea…
Like all tastings this was a snapshot of growers who were prepared to confront the court of public opinion (or a few hardy tasters) at 9.30 on a Friday morning.
Quel horreur! The whites were almost invariably bubble-gummed to death, to adapt a Victor Mature quip, whilst the reds dwindled to etiolated senility in barrels seemingly toasted with flame-throwers. The bitterness of their extracted fruit and resultant stewed pruniness did not communicate a region with a so-called Atlantic climate.
Many growers refer to the taste (the sensation) of the rocks and soil in the wine. They intend their wines to reflect the diversity, subtlety and particularity of the soils and the micro-climate. Balanced minerality is sought, vivacity considered a virtue. The flip side of the coin is when the vigneron develops a selection or top cuvée made normally from the ripest fruit, wherein the juice must be coddled and cajoled to reach a pluperfect peak of opulence. (I exaggerate) The intention does not always beget the desired result. Whilst it is a perfectly legitimate aspiration to have, say, a single vineyard expression of a wine, or to highlight the character of a grape variety in relation to the terroir in which it flourishes, delivering excellence is not the automatic by-product of creating something intensely powerful and bombastic. Wine should aim for typicity and perhaps, like an intelligent person, be capable of subtle discourse rather than screaming extroversion.
Back to the tasting. The commerciality of the white wines made them virtually indistinguishable from each other. Sharing that slightly sugar-soapy-texture-in-the-mouth-with-a-tart-aftertaste they drifted across the fine line between crisp and aromatic, and sloppy and confected. A couple of the Gaillac wines were in a completely different register – the smell of barrel-fermented, lees-stirred Sauvignon almost shocking after the previous ingestions of liquid opal fruits – and not necessarily the better for it. Finally, a wine from Irouléguy that promised - and delivered - in spades. The nose suggested white flowers, lime-blossom and creamy citrus, the palate was more vinous than anything tasted previously, yet glanced and glided effortlessly around the tongue, refreshing the whole mouth. The sherbet crunch of Gros Manseng, the mango and pink grapefruit notes of Petit Manseng and some balsam from the not-intrusive-at-all oak imbued the wine with a lingering quality like the memory of a sound of a cool mountain stream. The following wine, from the same estate, ramped up the oak quotient by several parasangs, a veritable “plank ton” white. What a let-down.
Onto the reds. When you taste too many similar things you start getting a gag reflex so it is agreeable to shift gear. Bored with wibbly fruit confections I wanted to crunch my molars on some solid wine. Be careful what you wish for, mon ami. The first red, a vin de pays, certainly wafted promising hints of sweet berries and dark chocolate. One could imagine drinking it. Thereafter, downhill with a relentless succession of termite’s toothaches, reds hoist on their own very wooden petards, as if the oak had exploded the very soul of the wine itself. Eventually, the entire tasting became a diminishing return as my palate was gradually embalmed in a thick fug of disassociated sensations.
Let me assert that I adore Cahors; I love the gravelly expression of Malbec, that rustic combination of slightly unripe cherries, plums and figs tinged with earl grey tea, menthol, garrigue herbs and réglisse and stalky, but infinitely digestible, tannins. The wines in this line up were lavishly black and treacled across the rim of the glass. Alcohol (not usually an aromatic feature of Cahors) was apparent, and the aromatic – generally speaking – suggestive of black rather than red fruits. But there was more, or rather less, going on. These were four-square wines, blank, undifferentiated reds, intensely thick in texture but remarkably thin in flavour. I have previously referred to the clumsy use of oak and extraction as if it was the intention of the winemaker to slip the surly bonds of terroir and vault into an arena where such manipulations were critically applauded. This is not heavy metal where it is fair enough to dial up ten on a scale of nine; great wine does not need to be amplified, and if the noise surrounding the real nature of the wine is so discordant, you have to wonder what the point of the wine is at all.
Harsh criticism? Not at all. I don’t actively seek faults and wish to derogate wines. I love the region, but I wonder whether too many growers are taking themselves too seriously, making wines to impress people rather than to give them pleasure. The danger, of course, is that in trying to make the wines more serious, you unmake them and allow their very spirit to unravel.
Sizzling Sicilians
Catatonic in Catania
When Eric first visited Sicily he came back empty-handed and empty-hearted. A lot of travelling in the land of crazy drivers and cassata and slurping endless dire, confected whites and joyless, sloppy, jam-bang-no-thank-you ma’am reds sapped the investigative drive. First impressions are often erroneous and an island the size of Sicily surely had growers plying their artisan craft and making wines that expressed the combination of the unusual indigenous grape varieties and the remarkable terrain, but this was a region that would necessitate four or five trips to uncover the sources of excellence. Even with our wonderful range of producers and estates from across the island, that we would probably say that Sicily is not a unified region and does not have a strong wine culture. Whilst there are outstanding individual growers making extraordinary wines - some rediscovering tradition, others injecting vital modernity into their projects – the vast bulk (I use those words advisedly) of (over)production is, at best, mediocre.
Located in the hills between the communes of Salemi and Trapani Azienda Agricola Ceuso is a tiny estate of 30 hectares (of which 22 are cultivated to vines on limestone and clay soils) started by three brothers - Antonino, Giuseppe, and Vinc