I recently attended a lunch event with Hervé Jestin of Champagne Leclerc Briant.
We tasted four of their wines, and he spoke at length about how they are made, and about biodynamic viticulture, and about Champagne. One of the ideas raised, which I didn't really understand, was the notion that the dosage for a champagne should speak to the wine, otherwise it won't benefit the finished product. He demonstrated this by sitting a glass of champagne on its side on a metal plinth which was connected by a wire to a pair of antennae which he then held over some sugar - there was no reaction or reading on the scale attached to the antennae, because the sugar had nothing to say to the wine. I didn't understand, but it surely was interesting.
The point of this was, I believe, to explain why Leclerc Briant is moving towards zero dosage wine making, and indeed to zero sulphur winemaking. On of the things that M. Jestin said was, "I want to train the wine to discuss with oxygen". And of course, until the relatively recent past, all wine making was done without the "benefit" of sulphur, so in a sense, M. Jestin merely wants to go back to the old ways. As I say, I don't really get biodynamic viticulture, but I do know that pretty much without exception I enjoy the end product, so I'm very happy to see more such wines.
The wines we tasted were the Brut Réserve, Extra Brut Premier Cru, Abyss, and Pure Cramant. They were all of very high quality, albeit very pricey. The Abyss didn't speak to me, but I thought the other three wines were complex, and I particularly enjoyed the fine mousse they all exhibited.
I want to single out the Pure Cramant in particular, as being a wine at the very edge of champagne-making: 100% Grand Cru Chardonnay from Cramant, fermented in used oak, unfined, unfiltered, five years sur lattes and then bottled with zero dosage and zero sulphur. And the result? A big, rounded, lush, ripe wine, as pure an expression of white and yellow stone fruit as you could wish for. My tasting notes also mention cranberries and 'something balsamic'. Wonderful wine. But, paradoxically, my enduring taste memory of it is of a warm, pink, lively, ripeness. Pink fruit, not white or yellow. It has somehow evolved in my memory into something approaching the Platonic ideal of rosé champagne.
Can one attribute that complexity, that evolving taste memory, to the biodynamic viticulture? I've no idea, but it surely was lovely.
More on Pure Cramant here.
Showing posts with label France. Show all posts
Showing posts with label France. Show all posts
2019-04-24
2017-09-09
A note on Nicolas François Billecart 2002
I hosted a champagne tasting last night, with wines from Pierre Peters, Fleury Père et Fils, Palmer & Cie, Moutard, and Billecart-Salmon.
It was my first tasting of a Pierre Peters wine, in this case the Cuvée de Reserve Blanc de Blancs Grand Cru, and rather disappointingly I didn't really understand the wine, although I suppose that's an excuse for another bottle.
But that's not the main thing I wanted to say. I've tasted the 2002 Nicolas François three times now; in 2015, last year, and last night. The first of these was in ideal conditions, and the wine, while clearly still very youthful and tightly wound, also managed to be reasonably expressive. Last year's bottle was completely unexpressive, so I was a little apprehensive about opening it again last night, but I have rather done Krug and Dom Pom to death over the last twelve months, so Billy it was.
And I'm so glad I did. It was beautifully expressive. Lean, yes, tight, indeed, but it had such lovely aromas of white flowers, and there was a slight saline edge to it which I hadn't seen before. It was the wine of the night by a country mile, and I look forward very much to tasting it again in another year's time.
It was my first tasting of a Pierre Peters wine, in this case the Cuvée de Reserve Blanc de Blancs Grand Cru, and rather disappointingly I didn't really understand the wine, although I suppose that's an excuse for another bottle.
But that's not the main thing I wanted to say. I've tasted the 2002 Nicolas François three times now; in 2015, last year, and last night. The first of these was in ideal conditions, and the wine, while clearly still very youthful and tightly wound, also managed to be reasonably expressive. Last year's bottle was completely unexpressive, so I was a little apprehensive about opening it again last night, but I have rather done Krug and Dom Pom to death over the last twelve months, so Billy it was.
And I'm so glad I did. It was beautifully expressive. Lean, yes, tight, indeed, but it had such lovely aromas of white flowers, and there was a slight saline edge to it which I hadn't seen before. It was the wine of the night by a country mile, and I look forward very much to tasting it again in another year's time.
2017-06-14
Domaine Trimbach: Some Wines
To the capital city and to Good Brothers for a tasting with Julien Trimbach, the young man who will one day be the 13th generation winemaker at Domaine Trimbach, one of the best Alsace producers (top three, I'd say). He's a remarkably accomplished speaker, and had some very interesting things to say.
I've never heard another winemaker (or perhaps I should say apprentice winemaker) talk so much about the taste of soil. Perhaps that reflects the diversity of soil types in Alsace, which range from granite, to limestone, to iron-rich soils, and even volcanic to a kind of crumbled granite called grés de Vosges.
We tasted through eleven wines taken from the currently available range, plus a beautiful Pinot Gris from 1990. The house style is decidedly dry, which suits my palate very well.
Riesling Réserve 2014
The grapes for this cuvee are harvested from several different soil types and vineyards, but M Trimbach described it as having a "limestone nose". It's a zingy, fresh wine, with intense lime and grapefruit aromas and a long lasting citric acidity. Delicious.
Riesling Sélection de Vielles Vignes 2012
Described by M. Trimbach as "a classic vintage", he also told us that for this vintage 80% of the fruit is from the Vorderer-Haguenau vineyard, from vines over 80yo. At 4.5 grams per litre of residual sugar it's still a dry wine, but definitely softer than the Reserve. I found a beautiful waxy note on both the nose and palate, and the citrus fruit elements were so ripe they seemed almost tropical.
Cuvée Frédéric Emile 2008
Trimbach are famous for their refusal to use the Alsatian Grand Cru designations on their labels (although that is changing now), and Freddy Emile is in fact a blend of Riesling from two different Grand Cru vineyards, so they wouldn't be allowed to label it as such. That doesn't stop it being a fabulous drop. Where the Vielles Vignes was showing spicy notes, this has evolved into savouriness, while still showing the intense citrus fruit of the younger wines. The texture was wonderfully buttery too.
Clos Sainte Hune 2008
M. Trimbach had stressed that the company likes to hold back wines until they are ready for release, but I guess that's not feasible in this case. Even López de Heredia in Rioja don't wait a quarter century to release Vina Tondonia. And that's the sort of time to mature that I think this wine probably needs.
The Clos Ste Hune is a lieu dit within the Rosacker Grand Cru in Hunawihr. There are just 1.67 hectares of sixty year old Riesling vines, yielding a mere 10,000 bottles annually, on average. Clos Ste Hune's soil is a kind of shell filled limestone called muschelkalk, which is the kind of uniquely Alsatian word which illustrates the mixed Franco-German heritage of the region nicely.
The nose showed petrol and a leafiness - not quite leaf mold, but old leaves. There was also a silky, creamy, mineralic whiteness, as if I were smelling white chocolate, but sans vanilla, or some sort of very rich white flowery perfume.
The palate was soft, rounded, and intense, but very, very tight. It was very well balanced, with a dominant flavour of lime. Of all the wines, this was the only one which seemed warm in the finish. To me, it was on the same level of quality as the other wines I tasted, which I'm inclined to attribute to its relative youth.
Pinot Gris Réserve 2014
Described as "Pinot d'expression", I found this to be very savoury and spicy, indeed almost meaty. I found chestnuts on the nose, which I've never seen in a wine before. The palate was much more about fruit, with green apples and grapefruit, plus a leafier version of the spices from the nose.
Pinot Gris Réserve Personelle 2013
Made with grapes from the Grand Cru of Osterberg, this wine was rather gentler than the 2014, and there was more fruit on the nose; ripe, honeyed yellow apples, even a touch of banana. The palate was sweet and rich, with a lovely soft lemon sherbet finish.
Gewurztraminer Réserve 2011
Less intense than the previous wines, this showed classic Gewurz notes of rose, lychee, and/or turkish delight (take your pick. Or we could just agree to use Gewurztraminer as a descriptor). The palate was very easy going, with a tasty background note of dry savoury spice which somehow made me think of suede.
Gewurztraminer Cuvée des Seigneurs de Ribeaupierre 2011
Drawn from two Grand Cru vineyards, Altenberg Mandelberg, this wine smelt more spicy than the Reserve, but had less of the floral elements. The palate was riper, too, with the fruit veering into mango territory and a lovely broad mid-toned spiciness.
Pinot Noir Réserve 2015
This was a surprise - a tasty surprise. From a dry vintage, and made "without oak" (actually 80 hectolitre very old oak tanks), it was juicy, fruity, clean, and utterly gluggable. Or, as M. Trimbach more elegantly put it, "not an intellectual wine". The nose was cherry syrup, the palate was redcurrants. Lightly chilled on a warm day, this would be gone in twenty minutes.
Pinot Gris Vendanges Tardives 2008
This wine perhaps whould have been aired for a little longer, as it initially showed that hint of cabbage which occasionally appears in old whites. With time it developed concentrated buttery and mossy notes. The palate was sweet, with butter orange peel, some green lime notes, and a surprisingly light body for a VT.
Gewurztraminer Vendages Tardives 2014
This was described as being a "difficult vintage".
A nose of ripe roses and powdered ginger, which evolved over time to show some leafiness and a slight mushroom character. The palate was very fresh, light, and completely unsticky - brilliant acidity. I found flavours of ripe yellow apples and honey.
Pinot Gris Vendanges Tardives 1990
A wee treat from the cellar to finish off. If you made a plate of wholemeal toast with lashings of butter and runny honey, and then took away the toast, then you'd have the nose of this wine – except of course that buttered toast is never really elegant, and the wine was so very elegant.
The palate was soft and elegantly glamorous, with plenty of acidity to suggest that the vintage will evolve for many years to come. It was much, much sweeter than the other VTs, and had a glorious complex spiciness which might have been cedar wood.
I've never heard another winemaker (or perhaps I should say apprentice winemaker) talk so much about the taste of soil. Perhaps that reflects the diversity of soil types in Alsace, which range from granite, to limestone, to iron-rich soils, and even volcanic to a kind of crumbled granite called grés de Vosges.
Riesling Réserve 2014
The grapes for this cuvee are harvested from several different soil types and vineyards, but M Trimbach described it as having a "limestone nose". It's a zingy, fresh wine, with intense lime and grapefruit aromas and a long lasting citric acidity. Delicious.
Riesling Sélection de Vielles Vignes 2012
Described by M. Trimbach as "a classic vintage", he also told us that for this vintage 80% of the fruit is from the Vorderer-Haguenau vineyard, from vines over 80yo. At 4.5 grams per litre of residual sugar it's still a dry wine, but definitely softer than the Reserve. I found a beautiful waxy note on both the nose and palate, and the citrus fruit elements were so ripe they seemed almost tropical.
Cuvée Frédéric Emile 2008
Trimbach are famous for their refusal to use the Alsatian Grand Cru designations on their labels (although that is changing now), and Freddy Emile is in fact a blend of Riesling from two different Grand Cru vineyards, so they wouldn't be allowed to label it as such. That doesn't stop it being a fabulous drop. Where the Vielles Vignes was showing spicy notes, this has evolved into savouriness, while still showing the intense citrus fruit of the younger wines. The texture was wonderfully buttery too.
Clos Sainte Hune 2008
M. Trimbach had stressed that the company likes to hold back wines until they are ready for release, but I guess that's not feasible in this case. Even López de Heredia in Rioja don't wait a quarter century to release Vina Tondonia. And that's the sort of time to mature that I think this wine probably needs.
The Clos Ste Hune is a lieu dit within the Rosacker Grand Cru in Hunawihr. There are just 1.67 hectares of sixty year old Riesling vines, yielding a mere 10,000 bottles annually, on average. Clos Ste Hune's soil is a kind of shell filled limestone called muschelkalk, which is the kind of uniquely Alsatian word which illustrates the mixed Franco-German heritage of the region nicely.
The nose showed petrol and a leafiness - not quite leaf mold, but old leaves. There was also a silky, creamy, mineralic whiteness, as if I were smelling white chocolate, but sans vanilla, or some sort of very rich white flowery perfume.
The palate was soft, rounded, and intense, but very, very tight. It was very well balanced, with a dominant flavour of lime. Of all the wines, this was the only one which seemed warm in the finish. To me, it was on the same level of quality as the other wines I tasted, which I'm inclined to attribute to its relative youth.
Pinot Gris Réserve 2014
Described as "Pinot d'expression", I found this to be very savoury and spicy, indeed almost meaty. I found chestnuts on the nose, which I've never seen in a wine before. The palate was much more about fruit, with green apples and grapefruit, plus a leafier version of the spices from the nose.
Pinot Gris Réserve Personelle 2013
Made with grapes from the Grand Cru of Osterberg, this wine was rather gentler than the 2014, and there was more fruit on the nose; ripe, honeyed yellow apples, even a touch of banana. The palate was sweet and rich, with a lovely soft lemon sherbet finish.
Gewurztraminer Réserve 2011
Less intense than the previous wines, this showed classic Gewurz notes of rose, lychee, and/or turkish delight (take your pick. Or we could just agree to use Gewurztraminer as a descriptor). The palate was very easy going, with a tasty background note of dry savoury spice which somehow made me think of suede.
Gewurztraminer Cuvée des Seigneurs de Ribeaupierre 2011
Drawn from two Grand Cru vineyards, Altenberg Mandelberg, this wine smelt more spicy than the Reserve, but had less of the floral elements. The palate was riper, too, with the fruit veering into mango territory and a lovely broad mid-toned spiciness.
Pinot Noir Réserve 2015
This was a surprise - a tasty surprise. From a dry vintage, and made "without oak" (actually 80 hectolitre very old oak tanks), it was juicy, fruity, clean, and utterly gluggable. Or, as M. Trimbach more elegantly put it, "not an intellectual wine". The nose was cherry syrup, the palate was redcurrants. Lightly chilled on a warm day, this would be gone in twenty minutes.
Pinot Gris Vendanges Tardives 2008
This wine perhaps whould have been aired for a little longer, as it initially showed that hint of cabbage which occasionally appears in old whites. With time it developed concentrated buttery and mossy notes. The palate was sweet, with butter orange peel, some green lime notes, and a surprisingly light body for a VT.
Gewurztraminer Vendages Tardives 2014
This was described as being a "difficult vintage".
A nose of ripe roses and powdered ginger, which evolved over time to show some leafiness and a slight mushroom character. The palate was very fresh, light, and completely unsticky - brilliant acidity. I found flavours of ripe yellow apples and honey.
Pinot Gris Vendanges Tardives 1990
A wee treat from the cellar to finish off. If you made a plate of wholemeal toast with lashings of butter and runny honey, and then took away the toast, then you'd have the nose of this wine – except of course that buttered toast is never really elegant, and the wine was so very elegant.
The palate was soft and elegantly glamorous, with plenty of acidity to suggest that the vintage will evolve for many years to come. It was much, much sweeter than the other VTs, and had a glorious complex spiciness which might have been cedar wood.
Labels:
1990,
2008,
2011,
2012,
2013,
2014,
Alsace,
France,
Gewurztraminer,
Pinot Gris,
Pinot Noir,
Riesling,
Trimbach,
Vendanges Tardives
2017-01-15
Dom Pérignon
One of the many benefits of working in the booze industry is the quality of the drinks on a staff night out. Our latest expedition began by setting a fairly high bar, with a mini Dom Pom vertical, of the 2006, 1999, and 1982.
(It's interesting to note, by the way, that Dom Pérignon these days doesn't mention Moët et Chandon on the label - perhaps they feel it makes the brand seem more exclusive?)
The 2006, in its first plénitude, was big and bold: fresh icing sugar, sharp floral aromas, but also with a touch of mushroom. The palate was soft, sherbety, with lemon notes and a beautiful rounded flowery character. The finish was noticeably drier than on the other two wines.
The 1999—not a stellar year, but, by my calculation and triangulation based on what the DP website says, in its second plénitude—wasn't any better (in the hedonic sense) than the 2006. Indeed, I think I enjoyed it a notch less. But the flavours were quite different. The nose was both spicy and mineral laden. After a while a floral component rather like that in the 2006 appeared. The palate was intensely mineralic, tangy and grapefruity. It was also richly floral—roses I think—with the richness extending to ripe fruit.
The 34 year old wine, almost but not quite flat and a deep, deep gold, was something else. Well into its third plénitude, this was a glorious glass of fizz. The nose had some of the floral elements present in the 2006 and 1999, but ah!, the rest of it. Runny honey on toast, sweet roasted almonds, buttery caramel, and a shining warmth. Liquid sunshine indeed. The palate showed the slightest spritz, and a fair bit of oxidation (good oxidation, like Madeira), despite which there was still a very decent level of acidity. The flavours were all sorts of fruit: juicy and fresh berries, raisins, figs, lemons. Just delightful.
The Dom Pérignon 1982 wasn't the oldest wine we tasted tonight, but for me it was far and away the finest. I'm usually more of a Billecart fanboy, but if all DP was this good...
2016-04-16
Tasting Note: Chassenay d'Arce Pinot Blanc 2006
Nose: yellow fruit. Clean and fresh. Nothing to say that it's a ten year old wine. Tangy. Citrus and pineapples. Under-ripe honeydew melon rind.
Palate: there is some evolution, but it still feels pretty fresh. Very tangy and tart. Real yellow fruit character, along with a light body.
Conclusion: this is a lovely wine, and distinctively different - I've never encountered that pineapple note in any other champagne. And, as with many wines from the Côte de Bar, it's very good value for money.
Champagne Grapes
Three grape varieties, Pinot Noir, Pinot Meunier, and Chardonnay, account for nearly all of the production in Champagne, but (of course!) things are a little more complicated than that.
Besides the more than 30,000 hectares devoted to the big three, there are a few hectares (less than a hundred, I believe) given over to Pinot Blanc, Pinot Gris, Arbane, and Petit Meslier. Producers such as Drappier, Moutard, and Chassenay d'Arce turn out small quantities of these unusual wines, but they are not easy to find.
And for the truly pedantic among us, the Champagne appellation law of 1919 can be read as meaning that all members of the Pinot family may be used for Champagne, which seems to me like the perfect excuse for some bolshie Brit to go over there and make fizz using Viognier and Aligoté.
2015-06-30
Billecart-Salmon Cuvée Nicolas François Billecart 2002
By a stroke of good fortune, Small Fierce Glasses and I were able to attend a lunch at Prestonfield House in Edinburgh, hosted by Billecart-Salmon, which served to introduce the recently released Cuvée Nicolas François Billecart 2002.
Arriving rather early, we sat on a rooftop terrace in the shadow of Arthur's Seat, sipping the excellent and bracing Vintage 2006 (a polyglot and slightly unhelpful name, omitting to mention, as it does, that this is an Extra Brut champagne, with a dosage of only 1.5g/l). The Vintage is a fairly new venture for Billecart, this being only the second release, but as we sit enjoying the sun and the fizz it is definitely my favourite Billy.
Some indeterminate time later we are ushered into a room which has never knowingly had any item of decor removed, ever, and are there presented with the Blanc de Blancs Grand Cru 2004. Immediately, this is my favourite Billy. It's honeyed, with a glorious perfume of white flowers and biscuit dough, and it is even a little buttery. The palate matches the nose perfectly, and the mousse is billowingly soft (all of today's champagnes were decanted, which allows the wine to breathe and lessens the rasping initial carbonic acid bite of a freshly popped bottle). Over time, as the fizz lessens, the wine becomes ever more vinous. Not in an obvious, Burgundian Chardonnay1 sort of way, mind you. Vinous, but still Champenois.
Production of the Blanc de Blancs is 30,000 bottles, using grapes sourced from five villages in the Côte des Blancs - I wonder which of the six Grands Crus was snubbed?
After a slightly embarrassing interlude (the food was distinctly fleshy, and I had foolishly assumed that in 2015 an establishment so prestigious would automatically be acreophage-friendly) the raison de déjeuner is poured. The Cuvée Nicolas François Billecart 2002 is intense, complex, interesting, and distinctly youthful. Aromas of white and yellow flowers vie with fresh blonde wood and, oddly, malt. There's honey as well, but an older, spicier honey. The palate is balanced and rounded, salt and honey and lemon pith all complementing each other. As with the Blanc de Blancs there's a vinous quality which champagne rarely shows. Whilst I'm enjoying this fine fizz immensely, the Blanc de Blancs remains my favourite.
The Nicolas François is produced using Pinot Noir from Aÿ and Mareuil-sur-Aÿ along with Chardonnay from Avize and Chouilly.
Billecart-Salmon is arguably the best of all the champagne houses. It gets my vote for its ability to produce wines that manage to fuse delicacy and intensity, finesse and sheer unadulterated hedonistic joy. Long may it thrive.
(Oh. We may well have drunk some Gevry-Chambertin and 30 year old Coteaux de Layon too. I wasn't really paying attention to the other wines)
1: I love Burgundy. But who can resist the opportunity to use 'Burgundian' as a put-down?
Arriving rather early, we sat on a rooftop terrace in the shadow of Arthur's Seat, sipping the excellent and bracing Vintage 2006 (a polyglot and slightly unhelpful name, omitting to mention, as it does, that this is an Extra Brut champagne, with a dosage of only 1.5g/l). The Vintage is a fairly new venture for Billecart, this being only the second release, but as we sit enjoying the sun and the fizz it is definitely my favourite Billy.
Some indeterminate time later we are ushered into a room which has never knowingly had any item of decor removed, ever, and are there presented with the Blanc de Blancs Grand Cru 2004. Immediately, this is my favourite Billy. It's honeyed, with a glorious perfume of white flowers and biscuit dough, and it is even a little buttery. The palate matches the nose perfectly, and the mousse is billowingly soft (all of today's champagnes were decanted, which allows the wine to breathe and lessens the rasping initial carbonic acid bite of a freshly popped bottle). Over time, as the fizz lessens, the wine becomes ever more vinous. Not in an obvious, Burgundian Chardonnay1 sort of way, mind you. Vinous, but still Champenois.
Production of the Blanc de Blancs is 30,000 bottles, using grapes sourced from five villages in the Côte des Blancs - I wonder which of the six Grands Crus was snubbed?
After a slightly embarrassing interlude (the food was distinctly fleshy, and I had foolishly assumed that in 2015 an establishment so prestigious would automatically be acreophage-friendly) the raison de déjeuner is poured. The Cuvée Nicolas François Billecart 2002 is intense, complex, interesting, and distinctly youthful. Aromas of white and yellow flowers vie with fresh blonde wood and, oddly, malt. There's honey as well, but an older, spicier honey. The palate is balanced and rounded, salt and honey and lemon pith all complementing each other. As with the Blanc de Blancs there's a vinous quality which champagne rarely shows. Whilst I'm enjoying this fine fizz immensely, the Blanc de Blancs remains my favourite.
The Nicolas François is produced using Pinot Noir from Aÿ and Mareuil-sur-Aÿ along with Chardonnay from Avize and Chouilly.
Billecart-Salmon is arguably the best of all the champagne houses. It gets my vote for its ability to produce wines that manage to fuse delicacy and intensity, finesse and sheer unadulterated hedonistic joy. Long may it thrive.
(Oh. We may well have drunk some Gevry-Chambertin and 30 year old Coteaux de Layon too. I wasn't really paying attention to the other wines)
1: I love Burgundy. But who can resist the opportunity to use 'Burgundian' as a put-down?
2014-01-03
Rosy Wine
Rather than writing about the more famous wines in the picture above, this evening's post is about the Grüss Gewürztraminer 2012.
Grüss is a family-run domaine founded in 1962 at Eguisheim which these days extends to 15ha spread over 42 parcels. The vineyards are managed using the lutte raisonné approach. They don't have a website; my information comes from this page on alsace-vintage.com.
This is a very fresh, youthful Gewürz, with plenty of floral notes, citrus, and not much spiciness. There is also some aroma which reminds me of chalk. The common comparison of Gewürztraminer to roses seems very apt here, since the lemony-chalk smell is something I often find in roses.
The palate is off-dry (or perhaps medium-dry), mid bodied and not very acidic. Also quite fat, although not quite oily in texture. There's a lovely richness and a hard to pin down woody spiciness, perhaps cloves, reminiscent too of edinburgh rock.
This is a very straightforward, decent wine. Less prestigious than its fellows in the line-up above, but a good typical example of Alsace Gewürz.
Grüss is a family-run domaine founded in 1962 at Eguisheim which these days extends to 15ha spread over 42 parcels. The vineyards are managed using the lutte raisonné approach. They don't have a website; my information comes from this page on alsace-vintage.com.
This is a very fresh, youthful Gewürz, with plenty of floral notes, citrus, and not much spiciness. There is also some aroma which reminds me of chalk. The common comparison of Gewürztraminer to roses seems very apt here, since the lemony-chalk smell is something I often find in roses.
The palate is off-dry (or perhaps medium-dry), mid bodied and not very acidic. Also quite fat, although not quite oily in texture. There's a lovely richness and a hard to pin down woody spiciness, perhaps cloves, reminiscent too of edinburgh rock.
This is a very straightforward, decent wine. Less prestigious than its fellows in the line-up above, but a good typical example of Alsace Gewürz.
2013-03-12
Le Clos Du Serres Les Maros 2011
The whole time I was drinking this - two bottles, two occasions - I was thinking, "Châteauneuf". I really did think it was that good
Le Clos du Serres "Les Maros" is 60% Grenache, 20% Syrah, and 20% Carignan, from a single vineyard site on the Terrasses de Larzac, which is a highly regarded sub-zone within Languedoc.
The wine is dark, almost purple. The shorthand description of the aroma would be Fruits of the Forest Yoghurt.
It tastes lovely. Strawberry, bramble, creamy yoghurt, ultra ripe soft tannins. But the main attraction is its sheer welcoming drinkability. I don't think it's a wine to age, but given its present deliciousness, that really doesn't matter.
For another take on this wine, here's my video review.
And you can watch Nicolas Mollard of Le Clos du Serres talking about another of their wines, Le Clos, here.
Le Clos du Serres "Les Maros" is 60% Grenache, 20% Syrah, and 20% Carignan, from a single vineyard site on the Terrasses de Larzac, which is a highly regarded sub-zone within Languedoc.
The wine is dark, almost purple. The shorthand description of the aroma would be Fruits of the Forest Yoghurt.
It tastes lovely. Strawberry, bramble, creamy yoghurt, ultra ripe soft tannins. But the main attraction is its sheer welcoming drinkability. I don't think it's a wine to age, but given its present deliciousness, that really doesn't matter.
For another take on this wine, here's my video review.
And you can watch Nicolas Mollard of Le Clos du Serres talking about another of their wines, Le Clos, here.
2012-01-18
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:
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.
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)?
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.
2011-06-11
These Romans Are Crazy
I was talking before about the mysteries of taste, and how wine can seem to offer aromas which ought not to be desirable, yet in some mysterious fashion are.
Brossette's Empreinte Beaujolais is a case in point. It smells decidedly of strawberries sizzled in butter—a delicious smell—but who would fry strawberries? (Admittedly, I have a recipe for risotto alla fragola, but as has been observed elsewhere, these Romans are crazy)
Perhaps a better analogy - it is all analogy, after all - is with the making of jam, where you add a little butter to the boiling pan, a smell which always throws me back into childhood and innocence.
Or perhaps the point of wine (if it even needs one) is to intoxicate us while offering unlikely flavours and aromas. And that's good enough for me.
2011-03-17
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.
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.
2011-02-16
Sweet Wine Wednesday #13
Tonight's theme was Chardonnay, but as ever there were a couple of ringers thrown in.
We started with an elderly fizz, the Sieur d'Arques Cremant de Limoux NV. If it were a person you'd feel the need to qualify "elderly" with "sprightly" or some such. The sparkle didn't last long after pouring, but that didn't matter, because it had a lovely masculine perfume, spicy and woody; and a well developed palate alternating from candied orange peel to almonds. Excellent, 4.
Then, an interesting pair of wines from Marlborough. Cloudy Bay Chardonnay '03 and Highfield Chardonnay '05 were both very full bodied and elegant. The Cloudy Bay, being older and under cork, had a much more evolved character, with plenty of butterscotch and a little bit of earthiness. The acidity was still fairly tangy, though, suggesting that the wine has a couple of years in it yet, and is still excellent, 4. The Highfield was by far the oakiest of the evening's wines, but for all that it is two years older than the winery seem to recommend, it was still fantastically well balanced, with plenty of tropical fruit in the mix. Only the acidity seems to be diminishing, but there was still enough to make it an excellent 4+.
Next, two youthful wines were a refreshing contrast (yes I know we should have tasted the younger ones first, but the logistics of tasting blind make this rather difficult to achieve). Innocent Bystander Yarra Valley Chardonnay 2009 was very fresh, cool, and intriguingly perfumed with flowers over toasty oak; an excellent 4. By contrast the Michelot Bourgogne Blanc 2008 was much greener, lighter, and with a distinct green tang. Almost excellent, -4.
The first of the ringers gave itself away by being red. Domaine Pouderoux Maury 2005 in fact looks very like a young ruby port. It had a lovely blue fruit and flowers aroma which follows through on the palate, and it does in fact taste rather porty. Porty and excellent, to be precise (porty and excellent = 4++)
And the Pérez Barquero Gran Barquero Pedro Ximinez was fairly unmistakeable (I was convinced it was Rutherglen Muscadelle). It smelled intensely of licorice and cold tea and had that trick of coating the sides of the glasses and then not running down again. It tasted like sweet sticky treacle toffee or honey sweet cold tea. Really rather tasty, 3-4.
We started with an elderly fizz, the Sieur d'Arques Cremant de Limoux NV. If it were a person you'd feel the need to qualify "elderly" with "sprightly" or some such. The sparkle didn't last long after pouring, but that didn't matter, because it had a lovely masculine perfume, spicy and woody; and a well developed palate alternating from candied orange peel to almonds. Excellent, 4.
Then, an interesting pair of wines from Marlborough. Cloudy Bay Chardonnay '03 and Highfield Chardonnay '05 were both very full bodied and elegant. The Cloudy Bay, being older and under cork, had a much more evolved character, with plenty of butterscotch and a little bit of earthiness. The acidity was still fairly tangy, though, suggesting that the wine has a couple of years in it yet, and is still excellent, 4. The Highfield was by far the oakiest of the evening's wines, but for all that it is two years older than the winery seem to recommend, it was still fantastically well balanced, with plenty of tropical fruit in the mix. Only the acidity seems to be diminishing, but there was still enough to make it an excellent 4+.
Next, two youthful wines were a refreshing contrast (yes I know we should have tasted the younger ones first, but the logistics of tasting blind make this rather difficult to achieve). Innocent Bystander Yarra Valley Chardonnay 2009 was very fresh, cool, and intriguingly perfumed with flowers over toasty oak; an excellent 4. By contrast the Michelot Bourgogne Blanc 2008 was much greener, lighter, and with a distinct green tang. Almost excellent, -4.
The first of the ringers gave itself away by being red. Domaine Pouderoux Maury 2005 in fact looks very like a young ruby port. It had a lovely blue fruit and flowers aroma which follows through on the palate, and it does in fact taste rather porty. Porty and excellent, to be precise (porty and excellent = 4++)
And the Pérez Barquero Gran Barquero Pedro Ximinez was fairly unmistakeable (I was convinced it was Rutherglen Muscadelle). It smelled intensely of licorice and cold tea and had that trick of coating the sides of the glasses and then not running down again. It tasted like sweet sticky treacle toffee or honey sweet cold tea. Really rather tasty, 3-4.
2011-02-12
Wild Roses
Goodness, I've never seen such a dark champagne before. If I didn't know what it was, I'd be guessing Shiraz for the grape, or perhaps a Cabernet - Merlot blend.
The Piper-Heidsieck Brut Rosé Sauvage NV is really dark, but when you hold it up to the light you see more of onion-skin than raspberry. And it smells pretty fantastic.
It smells, in fact, properly Champagne-like, but with a big blast of red fruit flavours and a strong mineral - specifically metallic, most specifically copper - element. The coppery tang almost makes me think of a well-hopped amber ale.
The palate is complex, offering a dry attack, a sweet mid-palate, a drying finish, and lovely red-fruit aftertaste. There's more of the coppery flavour in there; coming from, I think, Pinot Noir.
It looks really beautiful too. The dark colour is complemented by a very lively stream of fine bubbles. An excellent and unusual champagne, 3-4.
The Piper-Heidsieck Brut Rosé Sauvage NV is really dark, but when you hold it up to the light you see more of onion-skin than raspberry. And it smells pretty fantastic.
It smells, in fact, properly Champagne-like, but with a big blast of red fruit flavours and a strong mineral - specifically metallic, most specifically copper - element. The coppery tang almost makes me think of a well-hopped amber ale.
The palate is complex, offering a dry attack, a sweet mid-palate, a drying finish, and lovely red-fruit aftertaste. There's more of the coppery flavour in there; coming from, I think, Pinot Noir.
It looks really beautiful too. The dark colour is complemented by a very lively stream of fine bubbles. An excellent and unusual champagne, 3-4.
2011-01-03
Gruss Muscat d'Alsace Ottonel 2009
I had to go and look it up, and the Oxford Companion to Wine says that Muscat Ottonel is "paler in every way, a relative parvenu".
Well, in that case it's probably just as well that M. Gruss isn't growing Muscat Blanc à petits grains, since this bottle was amply aromatic enough to please us, and indeed to stand up very well to the spicy pakora we were having as a starter.
The nose was really very fresh, with white flower, lime jelly, and mealy or grainy aromas, along with a touch of something green and herbaceous, like angelica.
The palate was fresh, juicy, and just off dry. A layered, complex wine, with lots of floral loveliness coming and going to an almost oily, steely minerality.
The flowers versus minerality had the effect of making the wine seem to gently swing back and forth from dry to off-dry. I do so like it when a wine constantly changes, and this is a cracking example. Really very lovely, 4+++.
Well, in that case it's probably just as well that M. Gruss isn't growing Muscat Blanc à petits grains, since this bottle was amply aromatic enough to please us, and indeed to stand up very well to the spicy pakora we were having as a starter.
The nose was really very fresh, with white flower, lime jelly, and mealy or grainy aromas, along with a touch of something green and herbaceous, like angelica.
The palate was fresh, juicy, and just off dry. A layered, complex wine, with lots of floral loveliness coming and going to an almost oily, steely minerality.
The flowers versus minerality had the effect of making the wine seem to gently swing back and forth from dry to off-dry. I do so like it when a wine constantly changes, and this is a cracking example. Really very lovely, 4+++.
2010-12-24
It's the bubbles, y'see
That's what makes champagne special. Watching the tiny specks rising slowly up through glass (as plain as possible, please. Crystal just gets in the way) is mesmerising; a gentle, slow, soothing pleasure.
Tonight's fizz was a very fine example, with plentiful tiny bubbles continuing to rise even as the glass was emptied.
It smelled very fresh, like fresh sea air, followed by the classic champagne nose of wet stones and plain bread.
To taste it was dry, full-bodied and delicious. I was starting to wonder where the sweetness was when it slipped in at the end, along with a nice woody note, but then both sweetness and wood sidled off again leaving a brisk refreshing minerality somewhere between sherbet and aspirin.
Altogether a very fine wine, and a lovely way to kick off the Festive season.
Pol Roger Brut Vintage 2000, 4++.
Tonight's fizz was a very fine example, with plentiful tiny bubbles continuing to rise even as the glass was emptied.
It smelled very fresh, like fresh sea air, followed by the classic champagne nose of wet stones and plain bread.
To taste it was dry, full-bodied and delicious. I was starting to wonder where the sweetness was when it slipped in at the end, along with a nice woody note, but then both sweetness and wood sidled off again leaving a brisk refreshing minerality somewhere between sherbet and aspirin.
Altogether a very fine wine, and a lovely way to kick off the Festive season.
Pol Roger Brut Vintage 2000, 4++.
2010-11-17
Fresh and Tasty and Formerly Fashionable
Yes indeed, it can only be Beaujolais Nouveau. Not quite the first French wine from the 2010 vintage - that would be something white and primeur from Gascogny, I should think - but the first red, and a lovely, traditional, refreshing, all too drinkable glass it is too.
This particular bottling comes from Domaine Brossette, based at Theize, in a district called the Golden Stones. It's a fantastic fresh wine, starting out with loads of bubblegum and banana aromas, although with a little air it becomes more red fruit-y, cherries and raspberries.
Almost without tannins, and decently sharp, it has a lovely flavour of bubblegum, pink Edinburgh rock, and fresh red fruit. Altogether excellent.
Brossette Domaine des Coteaux de Cruix Beaujolais Nouveau 2010. Altogether Excellent = 4(+?).
This particular bottling comes from Domaine Brossette, based at Theize, in a district called the Golden Stones. It's a fantastic fresh wine, starting out with loads of bubblegum and banana aromas, although with a little air it becomes more red fruit-y, cherries and raspberries.
Almost without tannins, and decently sharp, it has a lovely flavour of bubblegum, pink Edinburgh rock, and fresh red fruit. Altogether excellent.
Brossette Domaine des Coteaux de Cruix Beaujolais Nouveau 2010. Altogether Excellent = 4(+?).
2010-10-27
Does Typicity Matter?
At a WSET blind tasting tonight three of the wines tasted did not seem to have a clear sense of place about them.
One of them, the Louis Michel Chablis Premier Cru Montmain 05, seemed so far removed from Burgundy I was reaching for Sicily or Sud-Tirol as a place to park it.
For sure, it was a fine glass of wine. A mature nose of vegetal notes, earthy minerality, and a little toffeed sweetness led onto a medium bodied, bone-dry, balanced palate with plenty of green fruit, and a definite sharp stony character.
But, it just didn't seem like Chablis. However I tried, I couldn't find steeliness. Nothing green in the colour. It was perhaps a little unfair to look for raciness in a five year old white wine, but I did look. Alas, in vain.
Later I was complaining about lack of typicity to a non-wine drinking whisky buff, who asked, "does typicity matter as long as it tastes good?".
"Well of course it does", is what I ought to have said. "You wouldn't want me to hold up Benriach Curiositas as a canonical Speyside Malt". Failing to be even remotely as snappy as that, I mumbled something about authenticity and expectations.
But, l'esprit de l'escalier aside, typicity does matter. Which is why this lovely wine scores a rather measly -3.
One of them, the Louis Michel Chablis Premier Cru Montmain 05, seemed so far removed from Burgundy I was reaching for Sicily or Sud-Tirol as a place to park it.
For sure, it was a fine glass of wine. A mature nose of vegetal notes, earthy minerality, and a little toffeed sweetness led onto a medium bodied, bone-dry, balanced palate with plenty of green fruit, and a definite sharp stony character.
But, it just didn't seem like Chablis. However I tried, I couldn't find steeliness. Nothing green in the colour. It was perhaps a little unfair to look for raciness in a five year old white wine, but I did look. Alas, in vain.
Later I was complaining about lack of typicity to a non-wine drinking whisky buff, who asked, "does typicity matter as long as it tastes good?".
"Well of course it does", is what I ought to have said. "You wouldn't want me to hold up Benriach Curiositas as a canonical Speyside Malt". Failing to be even remotely as snappy as that, I mumbled something about authenticity and expectations.
But, l'esprit de l'escalier aside, typicity does matter. Which is why this lovely wine scores a rather measly -3.
2010-04-22
Always read the small print... and then disregard it
Tasting the delicious Cuvée Amandine Chablis 08 my first thought was – well actually, my first thought was, “Mmm, this is intense, in an iodic, salty, fish stock way.” And my second thought was, “Ooh, there's an interesting flowery perfume in there, and that iodic element is almost verging on ammoniacal”.
My third thought was, “despite the dry fullish body, and long savoury aftertaste, this wine is not steely”. So it was actually my fourth thought which was, “Hey! the back label says steely”.
Then I looked at the bottle again and it seems the carefully pedantic Oddbins back label writers have in fact made a general observation that Chablis tends to be steely, without actually saying so about the Cuvée Amandine.
I suppose the consumer looks for the word 'steely' on a Chablis label, so you can't blame the labelista, but it's a tiny little bit of a shame, because this lovely wine has plenty going on without needing to be steely. (Delicious and lovely amounts to 4+, by the by).
My third thought was, “despite the dry fullish body, and long savoury aftertaste, this wine is not steely”. So it was actually my fourth thought which was, “Hey! the back label says steely”.
Then I looked at the bottle again and it seems the carefully pedantic Oddbins back label writers have in fact made a general observation that Chablis tends to be steely, without actually saying so about the Cuvée Amandine.
I suppose the consumer looks for the word 'steely' on a Chablis label, so you can't blame the labelista, but it's a tiny little bit of a shame, because this lovely wine has plenty going on without needing to be steely. (Delicious and lovely amounts to 4+, by the by).
2010-04-11
Z is for Zinfandel (just don't mention the Primitivo)
Le Z de l'Arjolle is a mere table wine, not permitted to display its vintage date, obliged to skirt around the edges of Appellation Controllee rules, for it is a Zinfandel (officially Primitivo **ahem** (you have to ask, why, if all the vines are planted on American rootstocks, is it so wrong to have actual American vines?)).
So, Primitivo, from vines sourced from Italy, unofficially the 2007 vintage, and given the full-on Zin treatment by an acolyte of the canonical Californian grape.
So, Z. Is it worth it?
Oh boy yes, - 'tis excellent, 4 - and I drank it too young. It has a strong dark fruit nose, with a distinct rum and raisin element, along with the expected dried figs. It tastes somewhat mellow, but basically a bit sharp, since it could do with more time in bottle. There's a good suggestion of chocolate and orange oil, but I drank it too young. This is a slight problem, since there is but a single hectare in all of France, so there can't be more than, oooh, 5200 bottles left.
If you do obtain some Z, be sure and share it with a cinephile, just for the creaking wordplay that the finishing of the bottle will engender.
So, Primitivo, from vines sourced from Italy, unofficially the 2007 vintage, and given the full-on Zin treatment by an acolyte of the canonical Californian grape.
So, Z. Is it worth it?
Oh boy yes, - 'tis excellent, 4 - and I drank it too young. It has a strong dark fruit nose, with a distinct rum and raisin element, along with the expected dried figs. It tastes somewhat mellow, but basically a bit sharp, since it could do with more time in bottle. There's a good suggestion of chocolate and orange oil, but I drank it too young. This is a slight problem, since there is but a single hectare in all of France, so there can't be more than, oooh, 5200 bottles left.
If you do obtain some Z, be sure and share it with a cinephile, just for the creaking wordplay that the finishing of the bottle will engender.
2009-12-01
Chateauneuf du Poop
What exactly is that smell you find in expensive red wine which seems to be some kind of animal crap? And why is it so lovely?
Mont Thabor Châteauneuf-du-Pape '06 was promising from the outset, long before the odour of poop raised its ugly yet curiously attractive head. Smelling intensely of very expensive leather, this evolved through spice, cherry, and a whiff of pampered pets into the aforementioned animal crap. But delicious animal crap.
Yes, I know, it's nonsense, but there doesn't seem to be another more accurate comparison to make, so there it is. Mont Thabor '06, expensive, lovely, and poop, 4-5.
(no website, but a bit more info here)
Mont Thabor Châteauneuf-du-Pape '06 was promising from the outset, long before the odour of poop raised its ugly yet curiously attractive head. Smelling intensely of very expensive leather, this evolved through spice, cherry, and a whiff of pampered pets into the aforementioned animal crap. But delicious animal crap.
Yes, I know, it's nonsense, but there doesn't seem to be another more accurate comparison to make, so there it is. Mont Thabor '06, expensive, lovely, and poop, 4-5.
(no website, but a bit more info here)
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