Cut Stick Sherry

Palo Cortado is a bit of a rarity in sherry. Generally, once the solera master has set each wine on its course, towards fino or oloroso, that's it.

But occasionally a fino will up and change in some mysterious fashion. The layer of flor which keeps oxygen out and allows the fino to retain all of its initial fresh delicacy dies, and the wine begins to age oxidatively, like an oloroso. If all goes well, you end up with a wine which shows aspects of both fino and oloroso character.

I am happy to report that all has gone well, and the Lustau Dry Old Palo Cortado NV (Marks & Spencer) offers flavours and aromas across the dry sherry spectrum.

It has the intense pungency of a fresh fino - the aldehydic note, not the apples - but at the same time, and in a tidy fashion, the contrasting aromas not fighting each other, it also smells very nutty, with even a little dried fruit character.

Absolutely dry, and light in body, with a clear nutty character giving way to a strong mushroom streak, and finishing slightly salty. And there's a definite edge of aldehyde, too.

The wine really didn't agree with a piece of rocquefort, but nut cake (from Delizique, I think) was a beautiful match. An excellent wine, 4+.

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.

The Fox has changed his spots

There really is quite a lot of wine out there. You can't track every wine through every vintage. Sometimes this throws up surprises.

It's two years, and two vintages, since I have tasted d'Arenberg's Feral Fox Pinot Noir, and I was really rather surprised by the way it has changed. It is much, much lighter than in the past. I followed this wine from the 2002 to 2006 vintage without seeing any change from the rich, concentrated, McLaren Vale style - the anti-Burgundy, as it were.

Savoury - soy, minerals, stones - and also juicy like cherries, the 2008 vintage is still a straightforward sort of a Pinot, but much less concentrated than the 2006 was. I wasn't alone in this judgement, B said so too.

I don't think the wine is worse, or better, for the change (it's a relaxed juicy, 3+), but it is surprising, and I can imagine that people who liked it in the past might be disappointed by this year's version.

Where there's life...

... there's pleasure.

In this case, it was the second half of a bottle of d'Orschwihr Bollenberg Riesling '08 which I had left in the fridge for a couple of days. The life in it was expressed as a lovely tension, a pull back and forth between sweet and dry, from lime-splashed minerality to soft honey, an excellent 4.

On the following night the wine was still there, if quieter, but very refreshing, suggestive of the moist smell of a damp but sunny glade early in the morning.

Another day later and there was only a one-dimensional grapefruity sourness - the genie had fled the bottle: no life, and pleasure only in using the last half glass to enhance a tomato sauce.

So, lesson learnt, I shan't leave Riesling any longer than three days. Or perhaps I shall. After all, to be entertained by the same wine for four days is pretty good value for money, don't you think?

( Interesting aside. d'Orschwihr's website says the 2007 Bollenberg Riesling is from a site of 1.5 hectares yielding 15 hectolitres per hectare. Assuming that the 2008 vintage is the same there were only, hmmm, 2800 bottles made. So if you like the sound of this one, the answer is probably, "tough cheese".)

Dill pickle is tasty...

... but it's even tastier when it's actually tequila which manages to smell of dill, and popcorn, and bubblegum, and grappa.

At a Bibendum tasting a very persuasive chap called Will was holding forth in barnstorming fashion about "the best tequila in the world". I was enjoying a senescent champagne (Bruno Paillard Blanc de Blancs 95), but so persuasive was he that I tried the El Tesoro Silver, then the Reposado, then the Añejo, and lo, I was converted. Well, converted is too strong a word, since I already like grappa, but certainly I was mightily impressed.

These are complex spirits, with great depth of flavour, and some really quite unusual flavours at that. Dill I have already mentioned, but what about freshly toasted cumin, greenness, and even a muscat grape character? Quite lovely, and all wrapped up in a delicate texture, with no harshness. I wonder if they would go with gherkins....

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.

I'm a drink you don't meet every day

It's a malt whisky - except it ain't, yet. Abhainn Dearg, one of the new breed of craft distlleries (trans: small, hand-made, local), have just released a limited quantity of spirit. Legally, it won't be whisky until late in 2011.

I tasted it at McSorley's, straight from a 30 litre oloroso sherry cask. "Spirit of Lewis" is a complex malt, with an interesting back and forth of flavours. The texture is light and airy - not watery, but airy, like good Condrieu. It is also very like grappa, very spirity, but there is also a big whack of honey and nougat, and a little milk chocolate.

The palate is delicate. There's green leafy, cigar, seashells, and plenty of sweetness. With water it moves from grappa towards a malty whisky character. I couldn't find any peat in it. In conclusion it is a good one (good one = 4+), and already very drinkable, especially compared with other new make spirits I have tried.

I tried to describe it to someone, and they said, "so it's like Jura then", but I think a better comparison, assuming a few years in cask, would be to Abunadh.

Sweet Wine Wednesday # 11

Winemakers do some odd things, but occasionally you taste the result and wonder why everyone isn't doing likewise.

Larry Brooks at Marmesa Vineyards in the Central Coast region of California decided that, ahead of the main harvest, he would go through the Pinot Noir picking the botrytised grapes and then make them into a sweet wine.

Marmesa Red Harvest Dessert Pinot Noir 2006 is a beautiful dusky rose-pink colour. It smells fantastic - tea and roses and freshness, and tastes just as good. There's a buttery texture to it, and tangy oranges into orange/lime marmalade. The 18% residual sugar - that's more than many Tokays - is well balanced with acidity. Altogether a fantastic wine. (fantastic = 4++(-5?), by the by)

We also tasted a Spanish oddity. Tasted blind I took it for some sort of sherry but in fact the Reserva Especial de Rotllan Torra 12anys comes from the north-east of the country, from Priorat. It's made from Garnacha and Carignan, aged in ancient barrels for four years and then in glass bonbons for another eight, estufagem style ("changes in temerature rust and produce the mature wine"). Yes, it does say 'rust'.

It has a complex nose, strongly sherried or rancio, with elements of cardamom spice alongside lanolin or Nivea. The palate is bone dry and sour green citrus, almost tamarind-sour. You might distinguish it from sherry by noting that it isn't quite as bracing. Not bracing, but still an excellent 4+.

Chile in Helensburgh

Off to a formal tasting for a very knowledgeable group, in the grand surroundings of the Royal Northern and Clyde Yacht Club.

It became apparent early on that they were really quite traditional in their tastes, falling into two camps, Classic French and Beefy Oz, with only one kindly soul declaring themselves in favour of the Terra Andina Carmenère Rosé, which is a shame, for it is a lovely wine really, refreshingly sharp, water-light, and showing the traditional strawbs-n-cream flavours.

The other Carmenère of the evening was from the De Martino Legado range, and red of hue rather than pink. It is such a Chilean wine, with an attractive green herb streak running under the sweet fruit and cedary woodiness. This was the leader in the Classic French camp.

The Beefy Oz brigade were made happy by the pouring of the Peñalolen Cabernet, from Quebrada de Macúl, which this year seems softer than previously, as if 2007, bruited by the Chileans as a perfect Cabernet year, was perhaps too kind to the Peñalolen grapes. Does it make sense to talk about a languid Cabernet?

Both groups enjoyed the Ocio Pinot Noir, the cream of the quintessence of Cono Sur Pinot Noir from Casablanca. The Beefy squad because of the sheer concentration to be found in the wine, and the Francophiles because it is clearly a classy, complex wine, well worth storing for the next ten years. And I enjoyed it because it has that shiny, expensive-marine-varnish aroma. A rare perfume, but always worth seeking out, oh yeah.

Another New Year,..

...another World of Wine. With a very enthusiastic group of tasters this time, and the relaxed surroundings of McPhabbs (comfy chairs already) really helps.

Tonight's star turn was the Ribbonwood Pinot Noir from Marlborough, New Zealand - everybody liked it. A soft, medium bodied wine with a nicely rounded array of cherryish fruit flavours and an interesting to and fro between savoury and sweet. There's a hint of smoke, which makes the sweetness resemble bacon, as well as occasional touches of vegetal stinkiness.

It is made by Framingham, a winery whose first vintage dates to 1994. You can find it in your local Oddbins, and is, I think, really rather good (-4).

The Best of 2009

After discovering, last time, that my memory of the year's best wines didn't quite match up to how I had scored them, I cast my net a little wider, paid less attention to scores, and came up with a list of about sixty wines from nine hundred tasting notes.

It is a fairly diverse selection, weighted towards France and Australia (the Oddbins bias, I suppose). So, passing by the Domaine d'Ardhuy Clos de Langres '05 and the Hiru 3 Racimos Rioja '03, fondly smiling at the memory of the Sizeranne '99, and pausing to be amazed once again by the flavours in the Dr Bürklin-Wolf Wachenheimer Rechbächel R Riesling '90, here are my top two for 2009.

Champagne Laurent-Perrier Brut 1999. If I were a rich man I would drink champagne every day, and if I were still richer then I would drink vintage L-P. It has the intensity of flavour, the lightness of touch, the delicate rasping mousse so reminiscent of a gentle cat's tongue, and the sheer blooming deliciousness that, all taken together, discreetly scream, “Drink me. Here. Now”.

I was tipped off about my other choice, the Innocenti Vino Nobile di Montepulciano 2004, by a chap who, if he were a rich man, would drink classed growth claret every day (Mouton, if I recall correctly), with occasional forays into vino like this one, for indeed it is very claret-like. It has structure without being harshly tannic; there is complexity, with layers of flavour weaving back and forth; there is a strong fresh-earth-and-mushroom aroma; but best of all, it has the delicate dark floral top note I often see in, yes indeedy, classed growth clarets. Actually no, best of all is the price - only eighteen pounds in your local Oddbins. Assuming, of course, they haven't hidden it all away for themselves...

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)

Excitable Spanish Fun

Two spiffing Spaniards provoked me into a flurry of exclamation points today.

First off was the Torresilo Ribera del Duero 06, an intense wine which immediately seduces with sweet soft spice aromas under a distictive gunpowder note and velvet licorice (I know, I know, pseuds corner. I don't care).

The palate is soft sweet juicy licorice, followed by long lasting expensive sizzled herb butter. Mmmmmm, expensive butter. The finish is long and elegant. Profound and Excellent, 5.

Next was the Geol 06, a dense purple looking wine with a nose of mint chocolate and cat fur, which evolves into the expensive barrel treatment afforded to a top-end Speyside. It's a little young for maximum pleasure, but not by much. Very good, -4.

As I say, a flurry of exclamation points. It's because of wines like these that I love my job. Try either of them and you'll be more than satisfied.

Small But Sullen Horn

Then the lucciola, the fire-fly of Tuscany, was seen to flash its sudden sparks among the foliage, while the cicala, with its shrill note became more clamorous then even during the noon-day heat, loving best the hour when the English beetle, with less offensive sound, winds his small but sullen horn.

The Mysteries of Udolpho, Anne Radcliffe

Lucciolaio is a super-Tuscan from mid-level Chianti producer Torraccia di Presura. Fermented in steel, given 18 months in French oak, and with a healthy 20% dose of Cabernet Sauvignon to complement the Sangiovese.

It's poshly expressive, without being any sort of fruit bomb. Heavyweight when compared to Chianti, it still offers the full range of Tuscan delights. There's a very fine dark floral note on the nose, along with something mushroomy or earthy or undergrowthy.

The palate is dry, full and still quite tannic (which isn't really surprising; the producers suggest it will age 15 to 20 years). It tastes rich and lovely, with clear cut cherry fruit, and a mineral note which - I don't know why - reminds me specifically of obsidian.

When I manage at last to lift my nose from the glass I can see that tonight's tasting group are enjoying this one much more than the too-young Barolo. The flashing of the firefly has truly entranced them all.

A tannic, rich, and lovely 4++, Lucciolaio is one of the brighter stars in the Sangioverse.

Sweet Roses and Sunshine

Comparisons to fruit, vegetables, animals, minerals or what have you are all very well, but it's illuminating to compare more directly, so as to see what is really going on.

This thought was triggered by a glass of Trimbach Gewürztraminer '06 (truly excellent wine, 4+), since it bore a strong scent of rose petals and lychees, along with an interesting mealy, cooked grain character which for me is very typical of Alsace. And by a handy coincidence, the next day I was in a lovely garden with several varieties of rose. None of them bethought me of Gewürz. In fact, the more I sniffed, the more I found other, un-flowery scents. One had a definite lemon sherbet edge and something of milk, while another was very rose-y, but in an expensive talc sort of way. A third was green and fresh, but also, surprisingly, buttery.

I suppose Gewürz will still remind me of roses, but perhaps now the memory will be more vivid, and precise. Or perhaps not, but it was a lovely way to spend twenty minutes on a sunny summer day.

Buy this before it's gone. Really

The other night someone remarked, "this smells like a good cheap wine - the sort of thing you give people and tell them to rush out and buy some". I'm not going to say what that wine was, since it cost £9. Instead let me tell you about a different, eight quid, wine which you really should rush out and buy.

Les Tourelles de Sipian 2004 smells, well, wonderful. It has that aroma of posh about it which usually means you are way past the £20 mark. The bouquet is a delicate floral back-and-forth between violets and hyacinths, with the true earthy undertone of the Northern Médoc. The true claret nose.

Sadly, the palate can only disappoint. Oh, it's by no means bad (my notes say delicious, savoury, tangy, mineral) if a little short in the finish - but after that wonderful nose it is very hard not to be let down.

But still I say toddle along to your local Oddbins and try a bottle. It truly is worth £7.99 just for the bouquet.

Avast ye scurvy Costermongers!

I've never been much persuaded by the fruit-salad approach to wine descriptions. I sometimes like to taste fruit alongside the wine it's compared to, just to see what's what (For example, New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc, which is often said to taste of passionfruit, lacks a certain earthy, leafmold character I find in the fruit itself).

The wine I tried today only made me more suspicious of those wine critics who one might take for moonlighting greengrocers.

Selvanova 'Vigne del Sasso' Aglianico 2006 is a fresh herby and fruity red, with a touch of ripe sweetness and nicely mellow tannins. Loads of fruit (cherries and currants and rhubarb, is what I wrote), tasty, and Excellent.

But look at this. The Decanter list of Ten Best Wines from Oddbins says, "blackberry and plum flavours". So does that mean cherries and currants and rhubarb and blackberry and plum? Or do you have to shake you head and just backtrack to plain old fruity?

I don't know, but I do urge you to dig out some fruit next time you find the flavour of it in a wine, just to see for yourself how similar and different they are.

Indefinable Pleasure

The best, most enjoyable wine experiences, say I, are the ineffable ones. The tasting where your notes are non-existent, or contradictory, or mainly consist of splash marks, but you have an urgent memory of a delicious, complicated something which makes you grin as you recall it.

So it is with the Verget Saint-Véran 'Terroirs de Davayé' 06. There are better white Burgundies, but Verget has long been a favourite producer of mine. The ambiguous number I arbitrarily attached to my notes(4++(-5?))summarises the battle between objective analysis and hedonistic pleasure. Plainly described, this is a medium bodied dry Chardonnay with some oaky character. Huh. Babblingly described, it's a back and forth, constantly evolving range of flavours, from white flowers to smoke to cooked grains to almonds to hazelnuts to brazil nuts to cashews to varnish to sharp metal.

Sharp metal. I don't know what I meant when I wrote that. But I know I liked it a good deal.

Sweet Wine Wednesday #5

After our Rieslingfest last time, we opted for a mixed bag - very mixed, as it turned out; we finished the evening with a curious basil flavoured sweet white wine called Longo Maï!, which did indeed, as promised, go very well with Crème Brulée.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Tonight's ampeloleptic treat, courtesy of the Tall Guy, was a blend of Merwah and Obaideh, but it might as well have been Viura, so much did the Château Musar White 01 resemble an old Rioja. I certainly don't recognise it from the description the Musar website gives, but nevertheless it was lovely. Mushroom soup and buttered toast on the nose, accompanied by a hard acrid note, led onto a palate of surpassing concentration, refreshing, light bodied and distinctly salty. A very fine 4+.

TN: Terra Andina Altos Carmenère / Carignan 07

As I may have mentioned before, Carignan is nectar to me, so I was excited to see this bottle. The Terra Andina Syrah and Sauvignon Blanc have gone down well with customers, and I rather rate them myself. High expectations then.

The first thing that hits your nostrils is intense blackcurrant, so much so that one is looking for Cabernet on the label, but then comes a herbaceous note, not the green-ness so common in Chilean wine, but rather some savoury herbs. The palate is intense, concentrated and very acid, and finishes slightly sticky.

After twenty-four hours of ventilation, the acidity has calmed down somewhat. Now there is a delicious aroma of coffee cake, and the metallic or bloody element which was there has strengthened. Add in notes of green tea and smoke, and you have a delightful and complex wine. It is definitely too young, except perhaps as a half-time refreshment for rugby players, if you see what I mean, but the rest of us can buy three, put two away for a couple of years, open the other and then drink it the day after tomorrow. Yum. Terra Andina 'Altos' Carmenère / Carignan 07: excellent (rugby players), very very good (the rest of us), 3++-4.