I tasted this as part of a "West Coast Wines" themed evening for Sweet Wine Wednesday. I dithered for quite a while between this wine and a Camel Valley Bacchus. I know, I know, I should have gone for the other, seeing as it's located that bit closer to the Atlantic, but on the few occasions I've had Bacchus I've not been particularly impressed.
Knightor are a small outfit located close to the Eden Project and St Austells. The current farm dates to the mid 19th century, but their website says that there are references to the property dating to 1305. (Not particularly relevant if your vines were only planted in 2006, but on the other hand probably quite appealing in a wedding venue.) They say they have 17000 vines, but I can't tell from the tone of their website if this is a way of saying they're really getting big, or that they're really boutique.
Trevannion is a blend of Siegerrebe and Schonberger, two pink skinned varietals. Siegerrebe is a 1929 cross of Madelaine Angevine and Savagnin Rose. It's favoured for cool climates - there's even some grown in Denmark, according to the big book of grapes. Schonberger is another cross, of Pinot Noir and Pirovano I, and in turn Pirovano I is a cross of Chasselas Rose and Muscat of Hamburg. (Is this too much grape breeding information?)
We're told that both varieties were picked when very ripe. They were cool fermented separately in stainless steel, then left on the lees for eight months before blending and bottling.
My initial impression is a very strong aroma memory of some rather rustic vin gris from the middle Loire - a wine which I remember being rather rustic but extremely gluggable.
The nose is fresh and fairly aromatic, with rose petals (or tinned lychees if you prefer), which evolves into a fairly elegant perfume, perhaps something like soap
The palate is strongly aromatic and off dry, with a subtle Muscat or Gewurz-like spiciness. The finish is long and warming, if a little simple.
Over time the wine becomes more floral, but this is probably just me over-chilling it.
Just like that Loire vin gris, this stuff is stupendously gluggable. And well worth the £19 I paid for it. If you see this one, I urge you to buy it. And don't over-chill it.
Wine Trivia!
That vin gris which the Trevannion called to mind was from the valley of Le Loir, a river which flows into La Sarthe, which in turn joins La Loire. The appellation is the (mostly deservedly) obscure Coteaux-du-vendômois. But very gluggable.
Showing posts with label England. Show all posts
Showing posts with label England. Show all posts
2018-10-01
2018-08-21
Little Pomona C'est Si Bon-Bonne
My first thought is that the tannins are beautiful. Present, prominent, yet in no way abrasive. They curl round your tongue and in behind your teeth like a cat settling on your shoulders; it's lovely but if it it weren't lovely the cat wouldn't care and would still do it. Purring, rounded, but irresistible.
Then there's a metallic, earthy note, which isn't quite iron. Is this bottling perhaps slightly less clean than other Little Pomonas? After all, relinquishing control of the maturation of a cider to an oak barrel, however carefully sourced, however thoroughly the bunghole has been sniffed, is always something of a risk.
Peach pits. And a rather pleasant acidity.
They're definitely mineralic, these tannins. Almost blue steel (as when one has made steel tough by heating it, perhaps by drilling it at too high a speed or without lubricants).
It seems to me tonight that of all the Little Pomonas this is the one where tannic structure is most important.
From memory I think I can dismiss The Rainbow and The Unicorn as flighty creatures of fruit.
The Old Man and the Bee had a ripe richness which dominated other aspects of its character. Feat of Clay was brighter and sunnier - youthful choirboys beautifully chanting psalms rather than the Mongolian throat songs of Bonbonne.
If this were wine I'd call these tannins chalky. Can I do that with cider?
Blue steel.
It's too full bodied to compare with Chablis, and there are these compelling tannins. But the blue steel.
It stays with you. The tannins don't want to leave. Like Secret Service agents, inexorably polite, Ma'am-ing to left and right and not moving no matter what you say.
Behind all that tannic action, there's something which might be fruit cake or dried apricots.
Here, tonight, this is the best cider I've yet tasted from Little Pomona, and I think it's a strong contender for my cider of the year. You should seek it out and try it.
(Now, quite clearly I'm not in any way impartial. The owners and makers of Little Pomona are very dear friends of mine, and I've helped out at every harvest since 2014. But that aside, I do think this is an exceptional bottle of cider)
Boring technical stuff: C'est Si Bon-Bonne is a dry, still cider from Herefordshire. It's made mainly from Dabinett, along with Harry Masters Jersey, Ellis Bitter, and Foxwhelp (I helped pick and press these last two). It was a wild ferment in an ex bourbon barrel, left for six months then racked into glass bonbonnes and aged without oxygen for a year.
You can read more about Little Pomona here.
Then there's a metallic, earthy note, which isn't quite iron. Is this bottling perhaps slightly less clean than other Little Pomonas? After all, relinquishing control of the maturation of a cider to an oak barrel, however carefully sourced, however thoroughly the bunghole has been sniffed, is always something of a risk.
Peach pits. And a rather pleasant acidity.
They're definitely mineralic, these tannins. Almost blue steel (as when one has made steel tough by heating it, perhaps by drilling it at too high a speed or without lubricants).
It seems to me tonight that of all the Little Pomonas this is the one where tannic structure is most important.
From memory I think I can dismiss The Rainbow and The Unicorn as flighty creatures of fruit.
The Old Man and the Bee had a ripe richness which dominated other aspects of its character. Feat of Clay was brighter and sunnier - youthful choirboys beautifully chanting psalms rather than the Mongolian throat songs of Bonbonne.
If this were wine I'd call these tannins chalky. Can I do that with cider?
Blue steel.
It's too full bodied to compare with Chablis, and there are these compelling tannins. But the blue steel.
It stays with you. The tannins don't want to leave. Like Secret Service agents, inexorably polite, Ma'am-ing to left and right and not moving no matter what you say.
Behind all that tannic action, there's something which might be fruit cake or dried apricots.
Here, tonight, this is the best cider I've yet tasted from Little Pomona, and I think it's a strong contender for my cider of the year. You should seek it out and try it.
(Now, quite clearly I'm not in any way impartial. The owners and makers of Little Pomona are very dear friends of mine, and I've helped out at every harvest since 2014. But that aside, I do think this is an exceptional bottle of cider)
Boring technical stuff: C'est Si Bon-Bonne is a dry, still cider from Herefordshire. It's made mainly from Dabinett, along with Harry Masters Jersey, Ellis Bitter, and Foxwhelp (I helped pick and press these last two). It was a wild ferment in an ex bourbon barrel, left for six months then racked into glass bonbonnes and aged without oxygen for a year.
You can read more about Little Pomona here.
2013-10-05
Ridgeview Pimlico
English sparkling wine is a very fine thing indeed, if not yet the equal of champagne, but I wouldn't say the same of such English still red wines as I've tasted (although that's no great sample size - not even a handful).
Hence, via some unconscious calculus of likely quality, I had no great expectations of a bottle of Ridgeview Pimlico. And so I was very pleasantly surprised - it's delicious.
It pours a dark, dark red, with properly pink froth, sending my mind on Austral paths, but of course the cepage is the Pinots Noir & Meunier, so it is light in body, despite the dark colour.
The nose is a very attractive mix of bitter cherry and dark chocolate. The palate matches the nose precisely, and adds a mature, gamey note - although I was reminded more of Chianti and Sangiovese than Burgundy and Pinot Noir.
The finish, alas, is short and abrupt, but nevertheless, for the colours and flavours, I would rate it as mostly excellent.
There didn't appear to be a vintage marked on the bottle, but it seems that this was made in 2003 because it was such a hot year that the grapes were supremely ripe. So don't be looking for this in your local wine merchant any time soon.
Hence, via some unconscious calculus of likely quality, I had no great expectations of a bottle of Ridgeview Pimlico. And so I was very pleasantly surprised - it's delicious.
It pours a dark, dark red, with properly pink froth, sending my mind on Austral paths, but of course the cepage is the Pinots Noir & Meunier, so it is light in body, despite the dark colour.
The nose is a very attractive mix of bitter cherry and dark chocolate. The palate matches the nose precisely, and adds a mature, gamey note - although I was reminded more of Chianti and Sangiovese than Burgundy and Pinot Noir.
The finish, alas, is short and abrupt, but nevertheless, for the colours and flavours, I would rate it as mostly excellent.
There didn't appear to be a vintage marked on the bottle, but it seems that this was made in 2003 because it was such a hot year that the grapes were supremely ripe. So don't be looking for this in your local wine merchant any time soon.
2010-09-27
Ridgeview Merret Fitzrovia 2007
All the best bits of Cremola Foam.
I'm now going to use another 150 words to justify those seven, but really,I ought to just write them out another 21 times.
To start with, I have to deal with the age thing. If you aren't old or Scottish enough to have enjoyed the sharp, pungent fizz and sweet squishy raspberry (ersatz raspberry, I know, but still delicious) of a freshly stirred glass of Cremola on a hot summer's day, well - that doesn't matter, because you can have this.
And then, I wouldn't want Ridgeview to think I was suggesting there was anything artificial or saccharine about this lovely wine. That's why I say, "All the best bits".
And there's more. I found a definite spicy edge to it, which I suppose comes from the one third Pinot Noir. This particular bottle seemed slightly reductive, but that actually added to the impression that I was drinking Cremola, so it's hardly a criticism.
So, 155 words later, let me recommend the Ridgeview Merret Fitvrovia 2007, because it offers all the best bits of Cremola Foam. (All the best bits = -4)
I'm now going to use another 150 words to justify those seven, but really,I ought to just write them out another 21 times.
To start with, I have to deal with the age thing. If you aren't old or Scottish enough to have enjoyed the sharp, pungent fizz and sweet squishy raspberry (ersatz raspberry, I know, but still delicious) of a freshly stirred glass of Cremola on a hot summer's day, well - that doesn't matter, because you can have this.
And then, I wouldn't want Ridgeview to think I was suggesting there was anything artificial or saccharine about this lovely wine. That's why I say, "All the best bits".
And there's more. I found a definite spicy edge to it, which I suppose comes from the one third Pinot Noir. This particular bottle seemed slightly reductive, but that actually added to the impression that I was drinking Cremola, so it's hardly a criticism.
So, 155 words later, let me recommend the Ridgeview Merret Fitvrovia 2007, because it offers all the best bits of Cremola Foam. (All the best bits = -4)
2010-03-19
Pink, Fizzy, and English. Yum
As I may have mentioned, TallAsAVan is no longer Malbecista-in-Chief. These days, it seems, he takes a wider view, if the bottles he left with us on his last visit are a guide.
And so to England, in the shape of Chapel Down Vintage Reserve English Rose (although I Swear I couldn't see a vintage date anywhere on the bottle)
It's a very pretty wine, pale salmon pink, with a slightly sweet nose which hints at sweet spices, in the same way that certain champagnes are spicy. I like the creamy mousse very much, and there is a lovely coppery or mineral flavour in there.
My rather disparaging tasting note says, "not quite the depth of good champagne but v good fizz". This is harsh; it is the best English fizz I've yet tasted, and a definite excellent, 4.
And so to England, in the shape of Chapel Down Vintage Reserve English Rose (although I Swear I couldn't see a vintage date anywhere on the bottle)
It's a very pretty wine, pale salmon pink, with a slightly sweet nose which hints at sweet spices, in the same way that certain champagnes are spicy. I like the creamy mousse very much, and there is a lovely coppery or mineral flavour in there.
My rather disparaging tasting note says, "not quite the depth of good champagne but v good fizz". This is harsh; it is the best English fizz I've yet tasted, and a definite excellent, 4.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
