Brilliant. Bonkers, but Brilliant.

To the rather posh Hotel du Vin for a tasting of Mas de Daumas Gassac, presented - by Samuel Guibert - very informatively, and with almost no smoke or mirrors. He told us we would have had the product of forty five varieties of grape by the evening's end. This in itself excited my inner list-ticker, and I was not disappointed.

There were several lesser wines, all very tasty and pretty much accurately priced, but reaching the Mas de Daumas Gassac Blanc (02005, cork) was something of a two or three level power-up.

As the Big Egg says, the Blanc is bonkers. A blend of Viognier, Chenin, Chardonnay, Manseng, with other varietals for seasoning, this one utterly bamboozled me. Here's my initial tasting note.

"over-ripe fruit, fish, smoke, animals, bananas, more smoke, Lagavulin, sherry fish. Then green. celery juice, then nutty."

Over the evening it evolved into a brilliant full viognier dominated blend, although without the wonderful downy billowing texture of Condrieu. Rather there was a soft oiliness, like good white Chateauneuf. Whatever that note means, the wine certainly deserves its score of 5 (astonishing).

The Mas de Daumas Gassac Rouge ('04, '03, '02, cork) were all very good to excellent (score 3-4), complex and fascinating. The technical note says they are currently in their 'Period of Youth'. I should very much like to try them when they have reached their Period of Plenitude, aged between 14 and 21 years. Fingers crossed. Anyway, here is - just to persuade you to rush out and buy some - my tasting note for the Rouge '03.

"strong cow poo and warm fur. chocolate melted on the hands of a toddler who urgently needs changed. chocolate bananas"

Ahhh! Lovely.

The Small Egg raised a very interesting point. Can a wine which varies so much over three consecutive vintages be said to have its own character? He asserted that all great and/or unique wines have their own recognisable character. Can one say this of Mas de Daumas Gassac? I don't know. After all, 02003 was an odd year, and '04 was kind of the rebound from that, in terms of vine growth / production, so you might argue that these three vintages are not a typical vertical tasting.


Update: a bit of rummaging has resulted in this partial list of grape varieties used at Daumas: Clairette, Sauvignon Blanc, Grenache Blanc, Cabernet Sauvignon, Syrah, Grenache Noir, Mourvèdre, Carignan, Chenin, Chardonnay, Viognier, Petit Manseng, Malbec, Pinot Noir, Nebbiolo, Petit Verdot, Muscat de Alexandria, Sercial, and Cabernet Franc. Nineteen, which is some way short of the promised forty-five. Any information you might have would be very useful as a comment.

Swiss wine, by golly!

Yup, courtesy of the Big Egg, a bottle of Jean-René Germanier Dôle Balavaud Grand Cru '03, under cork. Never tasted Swiss wine before, hey-hey. Apparently they keep it all for themselves. This stuff is good. It puts me in mind of bojo, or passetoutgrains, which isn't a great surprise, since the grape blend is pretty much the same; pinot noir and gamay.

Dark red, the nose is still developing - it's a good balance of bright fruitiness and a more mature savoury (maybe potato?) character. On the palate the wine is dry, light-bodied, and markedly spicy, with perhaps a hint of licorice. It's distinctly warming.

I want to be drinking this wine somewhere in France, with a chunk of Tomme des Pyrénées, one of those skinny baguettes they call a flute, and the sun on my back. Thank you, your Eggness.

Whoops, the score... (14)-15/20.

Did I mention the Mouton?

Inevitably when you taste a series of wines, you judge them against each other, as well as on an absolute scale. Thus it is that I have arrived at a new concept: quaffing Mouton. Oh yes. Ridiculous though it may seem, when measured against its older siblings, the '99 (scored at a solid 16/20), cried out from the depths of its concentrated juicy goodness to be glugged, gulped, necked, walloped (whoah, there's a radical notion: wassailing Mouton; mulled Mouton I didn't say that!. Don't tell anyone I said that!). But enough of such nonsense.

The Big Egg had six fairly recent Mouton-Rothschild for our delectation. Starting with the quaffer and working back to the '88. Equal top were the 96 and 95, the rest crowding in behind, and the 98 really rather disappointing.

What all six wines share is a concentrated character, a very strong bouquet and palate with every element of the wine balanced against the others. The flavours are complex: it takes time to tease out the strands of mocha coffee, green peppers, candy floss, paprika, the little hints of violets, occasional savoury bursts of aubergine and mushroom. But I can't think of a better way to pass two hours.

The scores: '95 = a solid 18; '96 = 18?; '88 = 17-18; 97 = 17+(18?); '99 = 16; '98 = 14.

Just say Noé (and Please, and Thank You Very Very Much)

All hail The Big Egg, for he has found treasure. More to the point, he has shared it with us.

Gonzalez Byass Noé Pedro Ximénez Muy Viejo is quite the wrong colour for wine. In fact, it has no colour, being black. And not see-through. It coats the glass, then waits a couple of minutes, then consents to send down slow legs for the next few minutes.

The nose is very strong, treacle-ish, boozy, headily sherried, then after a while almost briney. Smiley got figs, too.

On the palate it is a thick as cough mixture, and as strong and sweet. It is a luscious, chocolate-y, molasses drink, not remotely boozy or wine-y, with an absurdly long finish which, strangely, did not die away, but built up somewhat, with an increasing spiciness (like five-spice powder). 17+/20.

The Big Egg reckons he paid 0.67GBP for each year of aging of the Noé. Your only response to this act of charity on the part of Gonzalez Byass should be to go and buy some. Oh, and remember to get toothpaste.