Wine Blogging Wednesday #74

This is my post for Wine Blogging Wednesday 74 - Value Sparkling Wine. I did briefly think about Champagne Pierre Gimonnet, because it's so good that I believe it offers great value for money, but the price of one bottle of the Gimonnet gets me four of tonight's wine, with enough left over for a bag of posh crisps.

Condesa Blanca Cava NV is really rather hoopy.

It's a simple wine, although if you pay closer attention it doesn't fall apart - there is careful wine making here, and good accurate flavours. There's a very refreshing lemon & grapefruit palate, and something which I think might be floral. It is absolutely bone dry, in a way that seems to speak more of chalk than of tart citric acidity.

In the making of this wine the Cavaliers* use the same expensive, time-consuming procedures as the Champenois. Granted, the wine is only matured for 15 months rather than the three years of champagne, but this bottle only costs £7. It's not champagne - lacks the finesse, the lace-like texture - but it only costs £7. That makes it everyday drinking material. Who needs finesse?

And finally, the Condesa Blanca comes with a brilliant food match - fairy cakes. Not iced fairy cakes, just fresh, plain little vanilla sponges. Delicious.

Condesa Blanca Cava Brut NV - delicious: 3-4 (good to excellent).

 * Cavaliers. Ok, I made that one up. No habla español.

Thank you very, very much to the Corkdork for hosting this Wine Blogging Wednesday, on the theme of "The Spark - the wine that got you hooked". In writing this post, it turns out I've managed to make a fair go of summing up everything about me and wine and blogging.

To start with the meta:

• late  - that's me. Congenitally late in more or less everything (starting with having to be forcibly removed from the womb a fortnight past time, and continuing thus ever since)
• a list - that's me. Confronted with any situation where I need to get the finger out (say for example an overdue blog post) my first instinct is to make a list (practical, but also a delaying tactic)
• Um. Is it even a list with only two items on it (obviously this doesn't count because it's about the list (note, please, the meta meta)?

To the wine. Le Roc Folle Noire d'Ambat, a big soft red from Fronton in South-West France. Good Lord but it ticks every box. It's French; from an obscure appellation; made with an even more obscure grape variety; with a comedy label; and closed with a cork.

It's a dark red, wild feral stinky wine. Delicously refreshing on the palate thanks to a nicely judged acidity and grainy but ripe tannins. And it smells of horse (dear reader, this is a good thing, trust me).

Crucially, for a person with a massive caffeine habit, a short little attention span, and severe neophilia, it keeps changing. It's a wine which has been evolving nicely over the past few months, and also offers an interesting series of flavours and aromas in the forty-eight hours after you open it. I think the equine note is gradually going away, however, and taken with the level of tannins, I don't think this is a wine for long keeping.

The only box left unticked by Le Roc is that of price. It is neither ultra cheap, a bargain to be hoarded and gleefully shared with good friends, nor yet is it hideously expensive (which is always allowed if the wine can justify it in terms of quality. See these past examples). I bought it in Oddbins for £9.50, which seems about right to me.

So to Wine Blogging Wednesday. This institution (is it an institution? It has been going for quite a while) played a part in motivating my early Sentir le Bouchon postings, and the theme for this post, Spark, has been very interesting to address.

In truth I might have picked any number of wines to write about. What really truly sparks my interest - and continues to do so after ten years in the wine trade - is the endless infinite diverse variety of wine. I love that Burgundy has 500 (or is it 700?) appellations. I love Carignan when it's made old style and reeks of garrigue herbs and blood. It delights me to know that until 1994 Chilean winemakers thought their wonderful Carmenere was just plain old Merlot. I even love (well maybe not love. Like. I admit I can't bring myself to love it). I even like Bastardo, that vile Portugese grape which reeks of silage, because unless you taste the bad stuff you can never know just how good the gems are, and anything is better than awful bland homogenous supermarket tripe.

So thank you to Wine Blogging Wednesday, and thank you for proposing Spark. I really enjoyed writing this.

Whoops, nearly forgot. Le Roc La Folle Noire d'Ambat 2009: delicious, savoury, floral and complex, 4.

You have to warm to a winemaker whose website opens with a haiku from Basho. The stylish label, with its Böcklin-like lettering, also helps.

97 Parker points rather spoils the party, and the 15.9% ABV doesn't promise greatness.

The alcohol is immediately apparent on pouring - this is a very teary wine.

It smells fantastic, combining freshness and green notes with more evolved aromas like preserved lime peel and, oddly, coffee creams. I say oddly because the wine didn't see any oak.

Not surprisingly, it is very full bodied, concentrated, and delicious. The flavours match the aromas exactly, and it has an attractive creamy texture.

There is a little bitterness late in the finish, but at fortified wine strength that would be hard to avoid, I should think. An altogether excellent wine, 4.

Whisky for Grappa Drinkers

I'm sitting here enjoying three "whiskies" (lawyer-types: I know, I know, "new make spirit") from the recently re-opened Glenglassaugh distillery, which between them can't even scrape up a single year of ageing. As a grappa fan, I couldn't be happier. They all have that solventy, estery fruity nose found in fresh distillates - lovely.

The Clearac is a straightforwardly fresh, plain spirit . It definitely smells of barley, but I also found marmite and toffee pennies. It's a bit rougher than the other two. The palate is oily, sweet, a little malty, peppery, and mineralic (the sea, ozone, ammonia). The metallic finish lets it down. (finish lets it down = -3)

Blushes  is the old lady of the bunch, with a whole six months in ex- red wine casks, which we are told come from California (as if you could tell otherwise from tasting). It is a beautiful pink gold colour, what Aunty would call rose gold, and smells very youthful still, with the same salty and ammonaical  notes found in the palate of the Clairac. On top of that there's a pippy, stalky, vinous element - tannin, I should think. Left in the glass for a while it evolves some very attractive red fruit notes, plus the classic grappa nose of honeycomb nougat. It  tastes interestingly earthy or musty, and I found a floral note too. A complex and interesting  4+.

And so to the Peated clearac. I don't know what the PPMP is for this, but they haven't stinted. And it's a fantastic interesting smokiness - dry, charred wood. If you could have smoked grappa - which would be a good thing  - you would want it to smell like this. It tastes sweet, oily, and very smoky, with more of that charred wood in the finish. A very good 3+.

Newly opened malt whisky distilleries are always confronted with a huge cash flow problem, and have come up with various wangles to get round this. Glenglassaugh's approach is very interesting, and in the case of the 'Blushes', a definite winner. There is plenty of flavour and complexity in it, even for folk who don't usually enjoy young spirits.

Directly Above The Centre Of The Earth

A Helpful Bottle Top

I've been occupied with WSET diploma lectures and a jaunt to North Wales, so the Miles From Nowhere Sémillon / Sauvignon Blanc (which arrived in the shop a couple of weeks ago) has had to wait.

Resisting the urge to do a full diploma-style tasting note (they are great, but I haven't yet mastered the trick of combining a diploma note with catching the soul of a wine), I enjoyed the wine outside in the glorious spring sunshine, sitting basking in the kind of warmth which this wine was made to complement.

Miles From Nowhere smells fresh, grassy and fruity. After I'd tasted it I went back and confirmed that, yes, there is a little bit of waxiness on the nose.

The wine has a really clear-cut lovely waxy texture to it, along with plenty of lemon and grapefruit juiciness. There's also a tiny touch of citrus pith, a wee bitter note which is just enough for refreshment without being obtrusive.

It's an excellent summer drinker, and I wish I'd tasted as soon as it arrived in the shop - we would have taken several bottles on holiday. (excellent summer drinker = 4++)

Precision Wine

Sometimes (not often enough, sad to say) a less expensive bottle really over-delivers.

And so it is with the Schiefer Dry Riesling 2007, from Kendermann. It's not really a complex wine, but what it does is expressed so purely that it's a delight to taste.

The abiding impression I took from my glass was of pure lime fruit alloyed with delicate mineral oil. Right the way through from first sniff to final after taste, this wine gives those two aroma or flavour notes. Harmoniously sustained, they are deeply satisfying (Deeply Satisfying = -4).

Best of all, this bottle sells for a mere seven quid. Buy one today and make a Riesling lover happy.

Ave atque Vale

I'm drinking the last glass from the last but one bottle of Château De La Selve Palissaire 2007. I say this because if you are quick (and, I suppose, lucky) you can rattle off to the shop and get the final bottle, and I am feeling well-disposed to the world, and in particular to you, dear reader.

You might want to taste this fine drop because it's from an organic, biodynamic, low-yielding family-run domaine. But better to taste it because it is so very fine.

The aromas are a poised contrast, from metallic iron-rich minerality to animal, leathery sharpness to bright red fruits. The palate is dry, medium bodied and sharp (oh how this wine likes fatty foods). The tannins are, rather like an experienced butler, discreet but persistent. The flavours are red winey much more than they are red fruits, and a good thing too, say I. Altogether excellent, 4, and even if the 2007 is all gone, I'm sure the 2009 vintage will be just as tasty, given a little time.