London’s wine scene: a tale of two cities
Considering its total lack of vineyards, London's long-established position in the wine world might seem surprising. But this has proved to be London’s strength; historically there has been no local pride, patriotism or short-sightedness to cloud judgement. Unlike many wine regions where you can only drink local, when it comes to London, you name it, you can get it.
It’s not just the diversity of wine that puts London on the map, it’s the variety of places to enjoy it. There are two neighbourhoods in particular that are currently worth a visit: St James’s and Hackney. They couldn’t be more different.
Just around the corner from Buckingham Palace is St James’s, a particularly venerable and wealthy part of town. St James’s Street, its main thoroughfare, is a noisy, busy road lined with tall buildings of various grand architectural styles. Walk downhill past the yacht agents, riflemakers’ shops and men in suits and you’ll approach St James’s Palace – you might even catch the Changing of the Guard. This is London’s Old World.
St James’s is home to two of London’s oldest and most respected merchants: Berry Brothers & Rudd (BBR) and Justerini & Brooks (J&B). The former established in 1698, the latter – the young pretender – in 1749. They’re not just old, they’re mighty: J&B’s turnover is in excess of £50m; BBR’s is more than double that.
At both, you’ll be greeted by well groomed young men sporting smart suits and smart accents. Both companies hold the Royal Warrant; both rely on Bordeaux and Burgundy for much of their business; both are built on long-term relationships with clients and suppliers. Their glossy en primeur catalogues read like a who’s-who of the region under offer. Though they observe each other from opposite sides of the street, Giles Burke-Gaffney, Buying Director of J&B, insists “we co-exist rather nicely... there is some competition there, but it’s healthy competition.”
If you fancy a glass of something in this part of town, the choice is limited. Most of the locals would simply go to their Club, but you have to be a member of course. One option is a hotel or restaurant bar such as The Stafford or The Ritz. A better choice might be the 1707 Wine Bar inside upmarket department store Fortnum & Mason, which sells flights of interesting wines by the glass (their wine department is worth exploring too). When it comes to drinking the stuff, in general you’re better off heading east.
The journey from the West End to the East End takes little more than half an hour, but the wine scenes are poles apart. Not in terms of quality – you can find great wines in both if you look – just in style. The smaller areas of Hackney Central and Dalston within the Borough of Hackney are where most of the action is. It is a larger and more varied terroir than St James’s. And it is seeing more and more shops and bars springing up all the time. Hackney is London’s New World.
Ten years ago, Hackney was best known for its Murder Mile; now it’s better known for its food scene and nightlife. The population couldn’t be more mixed. Much of the building stock is residential, and though some is boarded up, there is a feeling of community here not present in the West End.
Broadway Market is hipster central; moustachioed men on fixed-wheel bicycles, bobble hats in June, graffiti everywhere, busy policemen. It is now home to a wine shop, Noble Fine Liquor, opened nine months ago by two Kiwis, Liam Kelleher and James Noble. Kelleher says this area now offers “the perfect clientele – people that want to experiment” and for whom the origins of food and drink are increasingly important. They stock almost exclusively Old World labels and a number of natural wines, with plenty of names that would catch the eye of the wine lover: Raveneau, Foillard, Dard et Ribo, Emidio Pepe, G. Rinaldi, Lopez de Heredia... the list goes on.
Natural wines tend to be shunned by the big companies out West. For Burke-Gaffney at J&B, they are “too much of a lottery”; Mark Pardoe MW, Wine Buying Director at BBR, is also apprehensive “we would do what we would call ‘due diligence’ before we leapt in... Our job I think is to offer an informed and considered opinion and not necessarily to be right at the vanguard.” With RAW Fair, the annual natural wine celebration, operating down the road in Shoreditch it might be tempting to proclaim that Hackney is all about natural wine, but the reality is more complex.
There won’t be much natural wine being poured at new bar Sager & Wilde for example: “we might have a couple of exceptional ones...” says co-owner Charlotte Sager-Wilde “but the bulk is inconsistent”. She and her partner Michael Sager-Wilde are still buzzing after their wildly successful pop-up bar last winter down the road in Shoreditch. Their permanent home will be opening in a month or two.
They will continue their model of adding a small fixed cash margin rather than a percentage margin to glasses and bottles of top-end fine wine, making it relatively inexpensive and attainable. It was “a very strange dynamic” that unnerved visiting older wine trade professionals, Charlotte says – “people thought we were a bit mental”. They will also be offering wine on tap. And no beer: “no compromise!” Michael proclaims with a smile.
“This is the only place where we could open” says Charlotte, due in part to the open-minded foodie scene, but also since rents are cheaper in this part of town allowing for experimentation. Nonetheless, the bar will need to be busy to make it work. Several nearby restaurants with strong wine lists have felt the same way about opening in Hackney (Brawn, Raw Duck, Entrepôt, Viajante), not to mention wine shops (259 Hackney Road, Borough Wines, Bottle Apostle). Many seem to know each other; there is a sense of camaraderie.
Rather than saying something about a change in local attitudes to wine, this burgeoning interest seems to be due to a change in the Hackney demographic. But we may be seeing some movement away from the longstanding British prejudice against wine: “there’s been a bit of a change, a shift within wine” says Kelleher at Noble Fine Liquor. Canadian Julie Campbell, owner of wine bar Vinvixen in Dalston agrees: “it’s gentrification more than anything... but the popularity of wine has certainly risen in the past few years.”
Although many of the newer players in Hackney are keen to play with new business models, extreme wine styles and unusual promotions, this isn’t unique to the East. Pardoe is keen to point out that “Berry Brothers may be seen to be a very traditional operation... but a little bit of digging will reveal that the undiscovered underbelly of the wine trade is also available from us as well... We carry wines from every little unusual corner of the world” including China and Brazil.
The energetic wine shops and bars of Hackney are doing Londoners a service by helping them get into good wine; the St James’s scene helps London remain an abundant source of the very best from the greatest estates. That both are thriving suggests a positive outlook for the London scene as a whole.
When it comes to wine tourism, London is rarely on the list of unmissable destinations. But what it lacks in beautiful vineyards and shiny stainless steel vats it makes up for with a huge diversity of drinking opportunities. St James’s and Hackney are just two local scenes. Things are changing fast; I’ll be keeping a close eye on developments. Mark Pardoe MW predicts a bright future for London: “London as a wine hub... continues to grow and sustain a very high level of interest and appetite... diversity is exciting, and to be encouraged.”
Listen: 'London is the place for me' Lord Kitchener (with a little help from DJ Yoda)
First published on www.timatkin.com.
Perfectly formed: the art of the short restaurant wine list
Many wine lists start out like ornate market gardens, with everything neatly laid out in sections and easy to manage. But over time it can grow into an endless jungle: a daunting place, impossible to navigate except for the most intrepid wine nerd. Some of them even start out that way. But grab your machete; it’s time to hack back.
Neil Bruce of Studio Alto is one of the judges for the Imbibe Wine List of the Year, and comes across the problem time and again: “Generally lists are too long, cluttered with too many wines… less is more, whatever the restaurant.” Shorter lists won’t just help you win awards; there are a number of compelling benefits to keeping it concise.
Less is more
The financial advantages are clear: a shorter list means less cash tied up in stock. Xavier Rousset MS, owner of London restaurants Texture and 28˚-50˚ confirms “it’s good for cost control: level of stock and cash flow”. Being a wine-focussed restaurant, 28˚-50˚ has a surprisingly succinct list of just 45 wines, but this is complemented by a separate, equally-sized fine wine list catering for dedicated wine lovers.
Since there is no full-time sommelier at 28˚-50˚, the smaller wine list is easier to understand for floor staff, some of whom may have limited wine knowledge. A shorter selection means less for them to remember, making it easier to sell across the range.
Stock control is more straightforward with fewer wines in the cellar, and less storage space is taken up by endless cardboard and wooden boxes. Slower moving bins are less likely to gather dust, lose freshness and slip into decline. Additionally, there are fewer picking and stock taking errors. Service staff mistakenly grabbing the 1996 Bordeaux instead of the 1997 can be an easy but expensive mistake. If you only have one vintage – or one Bordeaux – that won’t happen.
Short lists are also better for customer experience. Philip Burgess, owner of Bib Gourmand restaurant The Dartmoor Inn near Tavistock has recently refreshed their list and reduced it to 39 bins. He thinks that extensive wine lists make customers feel “a bit intimidated” and that shorter lists help them make decisions. Neil Bruce agrees: “It’s not easy to design a concise list, but better than being given a catalogue to read at the table. Who wants that?”
Bruce adds that a shorter wine list will sell “more effectively (profitably) and extensively (across the list) than an overly extensive one, every time” and also that sales will be greater because “consumers will (a) have greater visibility of what’s on offer and (b) be able to make better informed choices. Conversely, in a long list, most consumers will default to price-led decisions.”
Limited choice?
The principal criticism of the shorter-style wine list is that it restricts choice. Rousset admits that with smaller lists, there is a danger that “you may miss out on a sale”: if you had a customer who wanted to spend big on Barolo, for example, but you only stocked one Langhe Nebbiolo. Does having a shorter list mean that some customers can’t find anything they feel like drinking at 28˚-50˚? “It has never happened.”
Reduced choice of wines is something that affects those who run the restaurant as well. Philip Burgess says one drawback is that “you can’t have everything you want on there.” That is why it is important to keep shorter lists regularly updated, to keep the buyer, staff and regular customers interested and engaged.
Shorter lists, though increasingly common, are comparatively rare amongst very top-end restaurants. Less choice makes for fewer highly precise food matching possibilities. But a list of 50 or so wines all geared towards the restaurant’s food offering should generally be enough to find a good match, if there is a smart mix of wines designed to match seasonal foods.
Some white tablecloth establishments retain weighty tomes to present to their customers in the belief that this gives an impression of expertise. But rather than instilling confidence in the sommelier, it can have the opposite effect. Less confident customers might worry that sommeliers who manage such huge lists could pass off the slower moving or tired wines in their direction.
I would ascribe more proficiency to a sommelier that can create a good small list, presenting only exceptional examples of both quality and value in every style offered. And if the financial benefits of the shorter list are reflected in lower bottle prices, I’d be more likely to eat there too.
A valid reason for longer lists in fine dining restaurants is a larger range of prices to cover. Rousset is considering reducing the number of bins at Texture from 250 to closer to 100. But with bottle prices ranging from £25 up to £2000, it is understandably more difficult to achieve than at 28˚-50˚ which has a much lower price ceiling.
Get pruning
There are two foundations on which to make decisions regarding what wines to list. The wines need to work with the food that the kitchen creates. Equally, the wines need to be geared to your local market. Burgess at the Darmoor Inn carries a high proportion of classic names from Old World appellations, as this is what his “older customer base” demands. Luke Wilson, owner of restaurant 10 Greek Street in Soho, has more open-minded customers, which gives him freedom to experiment. Like Rousset, Wilson typically lists just 15 reds, 15 whites, a rosé and a handful of sparkling and sweet wines.
While producing a short wine list for The Table, a modern Italian restaurant near London Bridge, I settled on a similar number. We offer between 10 and 15 whites and reds depending on the season, and between two and three sparklings, rosés, fortified and sweet wines. Rather than starting by populating the list with so-called ‘must-have wines’ such as Chianti and Gavi, I list the styles of wine that are needed to best match the food and work from there, such as a light, fragrant red; a full-bodied white without overbearing fruit; a fresh, aromatic white, and so on. This creates room for more esoteric wines, which not only makes the list unique but lesser-known labels are often better value than the big names.
Wilson also works from a “general structure”; they will usually have two Pinot Noirs for example, one Old World and one New. He also keeps styles in mind above specific appellations; they will always have a dry and crisp white, but this could be a Sancerre, a Gavi, a Chablis or something more unusual.
A spread of styles should also be complemented by an even spread of prices, regions, and, where relevant, countries. Fewer wines on the list can also provide more room for tasting notes, food matching suggestions and other signposting to help customers find their way.
Shorter, not easier
Just because the list is shorter doesn’t mean it is simpler to produce; on the contrary. Rousset confirms it is “more time consuming and more challenging. Every single wine needs to fight to be on the list – the best they can possibly be for the price.”
But with so many benefits – improved cash flow, easier stock control, increased storage space, more confident staff, enhanced customer experience, retained customer and staff interest – it’s worth the effort. Grab the pruning shears. Be ruthless – but keep it fresh.
What to do – and what not to do – when producing a short wine list
Do
- “Start by assuming the customer has less than 60 seconds (probably half that in practice) to make their selection, so the list has to be intuitive to navigate.” Neil Bruce, Studio Alto
- “Run it for six months; if a wine’s not selling, change it.” Philip Burgess, Dartmoor Inn
- Consider a separate ‘fine and rare’ list (like at 28˚-50˚ and 10 Greek Street) or a simplified lunchtime list.
- Taste regularly and build up a list of wines that you can refer to when revising the list.
- Offer as many wines by the glass as possible without suffering unacceptable wastage: “Ten [of each colour] is the edge of where we can go.” Luke Wilson, 10 Greek Street
Don’t
- Don’t stick to one supplier. “Competition is good: over time you’ll get a better deal if you have more than one supplier… Quality varies: taste similar wines from different suppliers and pick the best one.” Christine Parkinson, Hakassan
- Don’t start by writing a list of ‘must have’ classic appellations.
- Don’t be rigid about numbers: consider more whites in spring/summer, more reds in autumn/winter.
- Don’t list any wines that you wouldn’t consider buying for your own personal collection. “Think – would I drink it myself?” Xavier Rousset MS, 28˚-50˚
- Don’t think you have to change the entire list with each refresh; best sellers or staff favourites can remain if they are still working well.
This is an longer version of an article first published in Imbibe magazine.
Confessions of an English Condrieu drinker
A short introduction to Condrieu...
There are few wines as wantonly hedonistic as Condrieu. It’s the combination of heady, floral perfume and rich, unctuous texture that gets you hooked. The grape used is the unmistakable Viognier, and this is its greatest expression. Languid flavours of sun-warmed peaches, scented with jasmine and honeysuckle, perked up with a spark of orange zest. And to think this uniquely opulent wine was nearly lost to us forever.
It has recently spread around the globe, but Viognier’s traditional heartland is the Rhône. Condrieu is located on a bend in the river at the northernmost tip of wine production in the valley. Though cultivated since Greek times, by the 1960s plantings had dwindled to less than 30 acres. But making Condrieu isn’t easy: it takes commitment. It’s a challenging grape to grow on the flat, but even more so on these steep, scorched, granite slopes. Here the vines yield very few grapes. But from this fruit a skilled winemaker can produce a dream of a wine, an opiate to be sipped.
One such winemaker was Georges Vernay, who we must thank for Viognier’s renaissance. He replanted the vineyards, rebuilt the stone walls and with it Condrieu’s reputation. His Domaine is now run by his daughter Christine and her husband Paul, and their wines are still the benchmark. Now there are many talented growers: André Perret, Pierre Gaillard, François Villard, Yves Cuilleron and Michel & Stéphane Ogier to name but a few.
Several produce Viognier from vineyards just outside the official appellation. These are often good quality wines, and half the price of Condrieu. Look out for ‘Viognier de Rosine’ by Ogier, ‘Le Pied de Samson’ by Vernay and ‘Les Contours de Deponcins’ by Villard, particularly in good vintages such as 2010 and 2011.
Each Condrieu producer has their own style; some use oak, others stainless steel. A handful are built for the long term, but most are best drunk within the first few years of life while still bright, fresh and full of sap. It can work well with roast chicken or pork, and rich seafood such as turbot, monkfish or lobster.
It is just as easily enjoyed on its own. There can be few more luxurious ways of spending a sunny afternoon than lying in long grass surrounded by the pungent scent of Condrieu, your eyelids drooping with bliss. It’s the closest a wine can get to a narcotic.
First published in Living France magazine.
Canada: you can't build an industry on Icewine
I wonder how many people buy themselves a second bottle of sparkling Icewine. Fun to try once, but it can feel a little bit... gimmicky. Let’s face it, who even buys much normal Icewine? For better or worse, it’s the wine for which Canada is best known. But perhaps not for much longer.
Norman Hardie has been making impressive Chardonnay and Pinot Noir in Ontario, in the east of Canada, since 2004. He admits that Icewine has been both a blessing and a curse: “it’s good and bad... it shows people we can make wine” he says, but it gives people the impression that Canada is just a frozen wasteland. Canadian wine writer Tony Aspler agrees: “Unfortunately, Icewine has become our calling card around the world. I say ‘unfortunately’ because you can’t build a wine industry on Icewine.” But as it happens there are plenty of other more interesting wines coming out of Canada.
Although the amount of wine produced is small, they are keen to start sharing it abroad. London saw its first comprehensive Canada tasting for many years this May. For those who are relatively new to Canadian wine (as I was before the tasting) there are two main regions: British Columbia in the south-west and Ontario in the south-east. They differ in climate and the styles of wine they produce. They are united, however, in that their microclimates depend on lakes, and that many of the wines have a strong French accent.
A quick introduction the two main regions
British Columbia is home to 213 wineries spread over nearly 4,000 hectares. The most important wine growing area is the Okanagan Valley which runs north to south, 300km east of Vancouver, around Lake Okanagan. The main varieties here are Pinot Gris and Chardonnay for whites, Merlot and Pinot Noir for reds. Some wineries can even reliably ripen Cabernet Sauvignon. Irrigation is essential; it’s so dry that some of the valley is officially classified as desert.
By far the largest region however is Ontario to the east. Although it has fewer wineries at just 134, they cover over 6,000 hectares. The vineyards are planted around the shores of Lake Ontario, particularly in the bulging Niagara Peninsula that splits the lake in two. They tend to grow varieties more in keeping with their cooler climate; mostly Chardonnay, Riesling, Pinot Noir and Cabernet Franc. Many of them reminded me of French wines with the volume turned up a notch.
Ontario is where 90% of Canada’s Icewine is produced, but what is less well-known is the quality of their sparkling wines. British Columbia also produces good fizz, and you can also find some in chilly Nova Scotia, way out east in the Atlantic. It’s even colder than Ontario here, so it’s pretty much all they can make, but the results can be impressive. There are still some (surprisingly good) sparklers made from hybrids like L’Acadie, but throughout the whole of Canada, most quality-minded producers concentrate on Champagne varieties and ferment the wines in bottle. The best can be reasonably compared with grower Champagne, albeit with more variety of style.
So with just 11,000 hectares in production, that’s just 10% of what Bordeaux has under vine. In fact, they are one of the few wine-producing countries to consume more wine from countries other than their own. So with plenty of demand at home for a small volume of local production, why are they bothering to export at all?
There are several reasons. Firstly, prestige: I’m yet to meet a winemaker who doesn’t want to see his wine served at the world’s finest restaurants. Additionally, the local market is a difficult one. All but one Canadian province operates what amounts to state monopolies on drinks retail stores. One Ontario producer explained “our market is not fantastic... we have a big monopoly. They run us down on pricing... it’s prohibition style, absolutely ridiculous.” No wonder they’re keen to sell elsewhere. The US over the border would be an obvious target, but their wine tastes veer towards the patriotic.
Furthermore their Icewine dominance may soon be coming to an end. In the words of Tony Aspler, “when China’s vineyards that have been planted expressly to produce Icewine come on stream they will be able to swamp the international market with inexpensive Icewine and undercut our retail price significantly.” It’s time to start playing to alternative strengths.
So Canada is keen to bring its whole range of wines to us – should we sit up and take notice? The answer is a qualified ‘yes’. Angelo Pavan, winemaker at Cave Springs, assured me that if I blind tasted Ontario wines against Burgundy I’d be “pleasantly surprised”. Well there are certainly some excellent quality wines being produced, but prices may prove an issue.
Producing quality wines in Canada is not cheap: Pavan points out that land prices are steep, labour costs are high, and cooler climates tend to result in smaller crops. This might help explain some of the high prices being quoted at the tasting. But the wines will also be judged against other countries on value, and this might be a sticking point. Aspler says “we are entering the golden age of Ontario wines.” I hope we can afford to share it with him.
Some highlights
These wines aren’t currently available in the UK, so I’m not yet able to include prices. (My comments on value above were based on approximations by winery owners).
Sparkling
Benjamin Bridge Brut Reserve 2004 (Nova Scotia, 12.0%)
Intense, complex aromatics: brown butter, brioche, red apple, vanilla and turmeric. Dry and toasty, with very fine bubbles. Fruity acidity and a creamy texture. Not hugely long, but very good. 91 points
Tantalus Old Vines Riesling Natural Brut 2010 (British Columbia, 13.3%)
Citrussy satsuma and nectarine nose. Soft, prickly full fizz. Highly aromatic with lots of flavour and quite pronounced acidity. Not hugely complex or elegant, but wonderfully juicy and fruity. 89 points
Summerhill Pyramid Winery Cipes Ariel 1998 (British Columbia, 12.5%)
Golden in colour. Hay, smoke and curry spices on the nose, with roasted nuts too. Intense flavours of brioche, butter and cooking apple. Lovely, soft creamy fizz. Medium length, ageing nicely. 92 points
Whites
Charles Baker Wines ‘Picone Vineyard’ Riesling 2011 (Ontario, 11.0%)
32 year old vines. Very pale with a delicate floral and lime aroma. Bright acidity, juicy lemon and lime fruit with a touch of orange peel. Very fresh, clean and long. 92 points
Hidden Bench Vineyards ‘Felseck Vineyard’ Chardonnay 2010 (Ontario, 13.5%)
Fresh lime blossom aromatics and lots of honeycomb. Rounded in the mouth if only medium-bodied. Dry, balanced and long; lovely clean and pure expression. 91 points
Norman Hardie Winery Unfiltered Chardonnay 2010 (Ontario, 13.3%)
Ripe fruit, with lots of intense lime and peach. Balanced, alive, and very drinkable. 91 points
Bachelder ‘Wisemer Vineyard’ Chardonnay 2010 (Ontario, 13.9%)
Very attractive buttery nose. Full-bodied but fresh and silky, with tingling acidity. Good length, with flavour that builds on the finish. Savoury and textural. 92 points
Le Clos Jordanne ‘Le Grand Clos’ Chardonnay 2009 (Ontario, 13.0%)
Complex nose – butter, brioche, popcorn and macadamia. Medium-bodied, with lots of intense toasty flavour and spice. Quicksilver texture and tingling acidity. Very impressive. 93 points
Reds
Jackson-Triggs Niagara ‘Delaine’ Syrah 2010 (Ontario, 13.3%)
High toned peppery and bright nose with a touch of dark chocolate and Szechuan pepper. Juicy sweet fruit, medium-bodied with a silky texture. 91 points
Pillitteri Estates Winery ‘Exclamation’ Reserve Cabernet Franc 2010 (Ontario, 13.5%)
Brooding dark fruits with some herbal elements, tarragon in particular. Medium to full-bodied with good acidity and a long, bright finish. Powerful, but with exuberant freshness. 92 points
Stratus Vineyards Syrah 2010 (Ontario, 13.5%)
Rich blackberry and perfumed pink peppercorn aromatics. Full-bodied but fresh with sweet fruit and lots of acidity. Lots of fun, a joy to drink. 92 points
First published on www.timatkin.com.
We need to talk about sherry
Last year you wouldn’t be seen dead ordering a sherry. It was drunk exclusively by nuns. And they would only touch it at Christmas, by the thimbleful. Even they were faintly embarrassed.
All of a sudden sherry is fashionable. How did that happen? Well the important thing is that it turns out that sherry is an amazing drink, incredibly good value and in all likelihood being served in bars and restaurants near you right now. Trouble is, it’s a diverse style of wine, from water-clear to midnight black, sweeter than sugar to dry as a bleached desert bone. So how do you know which one to order? This is your crash course.
Common misconceptions
1) Sherry is sweet.
Most of it, including the best stuff, is dry.
2) Sherry is a liqueur.
It’s a wine. It’s made of grapes, without any flavourings.
3) Sherry is drunk before a meal, or after it.
It certainly can be, but it works brilliantly with food as well.
4) Sherry should be drunk out of little sherry schooners.
You need a big enough glass to swirl the wine to release the aromas, with enough space at the top to retain the scent so you can sniff it up.
5) Sherry is a nice name to call my daughter.
Maybe go for something else.
Sherry is an uncompromising drink. It is not for the weak or the easily scared. Sherry doesn’t try to make friends; it doesn’t entice you with attractive, easy flavours of ripe fruits, or flatter with a cheeky dash of sweetness. Unlike the carefully designed, manufactured and marketed wines from the big brands with cute animals on the labels, sherry doesn’t care what you think. It doesn’t reach out to you: you have to discover it yourself. And for that, sherry deserves respect.
Since sherry comes in so many different styles, it’s hard to generalise. What they all have in common is that they are made in the south-west corner of Spain, near the sea. There are three small towns that produce it: Jerez de la Frontera; El Puerto de Santa Maria and Sanlúcar di Barrameda. Jerez de la Frontera is a lovely town with a great tapas scene and some lively flamenco bars. The other two are a bit more run down and shabby, but not without their own brand of rakish seaside-town charm.
The most important grape here is Palomino. It’s a pretty plain variety, and doesn’t taste of much when made into a normal white wine, but it’s transformed into something wonderful by the alchemist almacenistas (sherry cellar masters). The best is grown on brilliant white chalky soils; if you’re going to visit take some shades as it gets pretty sunny down there; it is just over the water from Africa after all.
The best way to approach sherry is to think of it in three very different categories: white, brown and sweet. The quickest way to understand it is to go to your nearest tapas bar and ask for a glass of each of the different styles. The following is what you can expect.
White sherries: Fino and Manzanilla
If you just order ‘a sherry’ in Spain, this is what you’ll get. White sherries are the most versatile of the three types; they are always bone dry which makes them a refreshing aperitif and means they work well with savoury foods. They are also the least challenging in flavour and the lowest in alcohol (typically around 15%, so not far off a normal white wine).
The typical flavours and aromas you can expect are apple, camomile, lemon and fresh bread. The base wines are aged in old wooden barrels that are only part full, which allows for the growth of the flor (Spanish for ‘flower’) on top of the wine. It is this unusual phenomenon that gives white sherries their distinctive flavour. ‘Flower’ may sound attractive, but flor is actually a layer of yeast that looks like grey mould. It’s not pretty, but this benevolent film protects the wine from oxidation, and also adds a subtle yeasty flavour.
The difference between the two styles is that Manzanillas tend to have more of a salty, yeasty tang. They are made the same way, but they can only be called Manzanilla if they are made in the town of Sanlúcar; Fino tends to be a touch more neutral. They go brilliantly with seafood, salads, salami and olives.
These sherries are best drunk straight out of the fridge. Once the bottle is open, you should store it there too as it will last longer – but try to drink it within a week or two. It won’t taste as bad as a normal white wine when that goes off, but it will gradually lose freshness.
Try these Finos: Lustau Puerto Fino; Sanchez Romate ‘Marismeño’ Fino; Equipo Navazos ‘La Bota 35 Machanurdo Alto’ Fino.
Try these Manzanillas: Pedro Romero ‘Aurora’ Manzanilla; Hidalgo ‘Pastrana’ Manzanilla Pasada; Antonio Barbadillo Mateos ‘Sacristia AB’ Manzanilla Primera Saca 2012 En Rama.
Brown sherries: Amontillado, Oloroso and Palo Cortado
This is where things start to get intense; flavours concentrate and deepen, aromas multiply and the experience gets altogether more gripping. Amontillados and Palo Cortados start as white sherries, but during their maturation in barrel a splash of grape spirit is added, which kills the flor. This leaves the wines open to gradual oxidation, which creates complexity of flavour. An Oloroso is fortified with spirit as soon as it enters the barrel, so it never grows any flor. This makes for a fuller-bodied, nuttier wine.
True Amontillados are always dry (avoid the ones called ‘Amontillado Medium’, these tend to be inferior sweetened versions). True Olorosos and Palo Cortados are also always dry. They are all slightly higher in alcohol (typically between 17% and 21%) than their white cousins.
The intense yet subtle aromas centre around dried fruits (figs, dates, sultanas, raisins), nuts, spices and sometimes mushrooms, Marmite or spices. Good examples will have amazing combinations of flavours that remain lucid long after swallowing. Amontillados tend to be slightly lighter brown, spicy, toasty and fragrant; Olorosos are dark, nutty, with a more luxurious feeling in the mouth. Palo Cortados offer the best of both worlds.
When matching with foods, Amontillados and Palo Cortados go well with a wide variety of savoury dishes, particularly pâté, mushrooms, white meats and game birds. Olorosos can handle these types of foods but also more powerfully flavoured dishes like hare, boar and venison. They all go well with hard cheeses and also foods rich in umami, which can often be hard to pair with normal dry wines.
The best temperature to serve them is somewhere between room temperature and cold. Which, let’s face it, is slightly awkward; but it does make a difference. I tend to store the bottles in the fridge (they stay fresher for longer that way) then take them out a while before it’s time to pour (if I remember) or just warm the wine up with my hand through the wine glass (if I forget). You can keep them for at least a month with the cork in once opened, but they will gradually degrade in flavour after this.
Try these Amontillados: Lustau ‘Los Arcos’ Amontillado; Fernando de Castilla ‘Antique’ Amontillado; Lustau ‘Almacenista’ Amontillado de Puerto (Gonzalez Obregón)
Try these Olorosos: Maestro Sierra Oloroso; Barbadillo ‘Cuco’ Oloroso.
Try these Palo Cortados: Gonzalez Byass ‘Leonor’ Palo Cortado; Valdespino Palo Cortado Viejo CP; Equipo Navazos ‘La Bota 34’ Palo Cortado (most of the wines produced by Equipo Navazos are not cheap but I can’t recommend them highly enough).
Sweet sherries: Cream, Moscatel and Pedro Ximénez
This is the most diverse group out of the three, and although referred to as sherries, they have little in common with the classic white and brown ones described above. Neither do they have much in common with each other apart from their high sugar content.
A Cream sherry is a sweetened Oloroso. Many of the biggest selling brands are pretty uninspiring, but those with ‘Oloroso Dulce/Abocado/Rich’ on the label tend to denote a higher quality example, some of which are very good. A Pale Cream is a sweetened Fino; they tend to be insipid and best avoided.
Moscatel and Pedro Ximénez (PX) sherries are made from totally different grapes and taste nothing like any of the others. The Moscatel grape is what the French refer to as Muscat, and makes a very sweet, grapey, orange/peach flavoured wine that works well with fruity desserts.
PX is a thick, heavy, black syrup that is intensely sweet, often more akin to a sauce than a drink. It tastes of liquidised dried fruits – figs, dates, prunes, sultanas and raisins, sometimes with a hint of liquorice or sweet spice. It’s a good match for desserts that contain similar flavours, or poured over ice cream.
Sweet sherries are also best served somewhere between fully chilled and room temperature, but err on the side of fridge rather than drinks cabinet. Similar to brown sherries, you can keep them for at least a month in the fridge after opening without much trouble; PX even longer.
Try these Creams: Valdespino ‘Isabela’ Cream; Hidalgo ‘Alameda’ Oloroso Abocado; Barbadillo Oloroso Dulce VORS (30+ Year Old).
Try these Moscatels: Gutierrez Colosia ‘Soleado’ Moscatel; Lustau ‘Emilin’ Moscatel.
Try these Pedro Ximénez: Gonzalez Byass ‘Noe’ Pedro Ximénez VORS (30+ Year Old); Hidalgo ‘Triana’ Pedro Ximénez; Bodegas Tradición Pedro Ximénez VOS (20+ Year Old).
First published by www.toniquemagazine.com but this is longer.
Médoc: Reassuringly expensive
A quick intro to the wines of the Médoc...
It not just the owners of Tarmac who have made a fortune out of gravel. Rather than excavating it, the residents of Bordeaux have found an altogether more elegant way of making it pay – by growing vines on it.
Not all grape varieties are created equal. You’d be lucky to coax anything better than average plonk out of a jester like Couderc Noir. But Cabernet Sauvignon can be capable of creating the most regal reds when grown in the right conditions: a warm, dry climate with plenty of sun and well drained, gravelly soils. Exactly like the left bank of the Gironde river in Bordeaux, where it flows into the Atlantic – otherwise known as the Médoc.
Cabernet Sauvignon has an extraordinary ability to age, and with age comes complexity of flavour. When young, it tastes of blackcurrants and green peppers, but as it ages it develops notes of cigar tobacco, pencil shavings, chestnut and spice. Here it is blended with Merlot, which adds body and a soft plummy succulence. The result is a well balanced and uniquely cerebral wine that has a rare blend of both power and elegance. The small production of dry white wine, made from Sauvignon Blanc and Sémillon grapes, can also be superb.
These wines have been coveted for centuries, and have made the land owners extremely wealthy. The drive north along the D2 through Margaux, St Julien, Pauillac and St Estèphe is unforgettable. The natural countryside is nothing special, but the route is dotted with an embarrassment of elaborate châteaux, imposing status symbols built on the profits of wine. The current market price for a bottle of Château Lafite 2009 is £850. It costs closer to £10 to produce. The top labels are no longer really wines: they are luxury brands, flipped for profit by fine wine traders, rarely drunk by mere mortals.
But don’t let that put you off. There are many excellent wines being made by less famous estates. The trick is to pick a reliable producer in a good vintage: look out Châteaux Cissac, Cantemerle, Chasse-Spleen, Tour de By, Beaumont and Meyney in vintages such as 1989, 1990, 1995, 1996, 2000 and 2005. They will still set you back £25 - £35 a bottle, but they should give you an evening of luxurious pleasure and an insight into why so many people become captivated by the Médoc. After all, they’re expensive for a reason.
First published in Living France magazine.
We're all going on a summer holiday... diary of a #frenchwinetrip
Saturday 1st June
Day 8, homeward bound.
After an enlightening, exhausting and thoroughly enjoyable 10 days on the road, the trip has come to an end. Here’s a two minute video I made to sum it up. Again, it’s all done in one take with no editing, so excuse the sketchy delivery!
Matt Walls - #Frenchwinetrip - Day 8 from Frenchwinetrip on Vimeo.
Friday 31st May
Day 7, Burgundy: Force of nature
It was raining in Burgundy. It had been raining for some time. That evening, we all huddled under an umbrella and shuffled, as one, to a nearby restaurant. Our Russian friend Alex thought we were joking that the Burgundians ate snails. The look on his face when he received his starter was priceless.
We were joined by Jean-Michel Chartron, owner of Domaine Jean Chartron in Puligny-Montrachet. I asked him how the growing season was progressing: he said that 2013 has been the wettest start to a vintage he’d witnessed in the past 10 years at least, and that older vignerons had been looking back to 1983 or even 1964 for a comparable start to the year.
Jean-Michel explained that the worst problems were at the bottom of the slopes; not only does water run down to the bottom, but the clay is deeper there, which makes for slower drainage. If temperatures rise above 15˚C, the spectre of diseases like mildew and oidium will soon appear. The necessary vineyard spraying to ward them off has been taking place by hand or by helicopter as tractors get stuck in the mud: “the biggest problem is getting into the vineyard” he said. At times like this he is glad his domaine concentrates on white wines; reds are more prone to rot flavours than whites, not to mention unripe tannins.
For all the heroic hard work and attention to detail of the winegrowers, there’s little that can be done in the face of adverse weather. However technologically advanced we become, it’s hard to imagine a time when the perfect wine will be made year in, year out. The best Burgundies always feel rooted in nature; they simultaneously display our awe-inspiring creativity, but remind us of our real stature in the face of far greater forces.
But it’s impossible to accurately predict that quality of the vintage at this stage. Jean-Pierre Renard at the Ecole des Vins de Bourgogne said “so far, no problem… the problem will be when we reach the flowering season”. The next two weeks will be critical, and everyone is praying for sun.
Thursday 30th May
Day 6, Languedoc: France’s Brave New World – then to the Rhône
In France, wine is traditionally drunk with food. But in the UK we don’t have that custom. We’re happy to drink socially, or alone for that matter, without it being part of a meal. That’s one reason why we’ve taken so happily to New World wines. Thanks to the combination of warmer climates and modern technology, many of these wines have bright, fully ripe fruit flavours that taste great by themselves. This is something that the south of France does well too.
Like some New World countries, this part of France is still discovering itself. It’s no secret that the reds from this region have been swiftly improving. They are also hugely varied: thick, powerful Corbières in the west through to lighter, spicier Rhône-like Grés de Montpellier in the east. The whites have been slower to catch up, but we tasted some excellent examples from St Chinian.
The final leg of our road trip was Burgundy. We made a quick pit stop in the Rhône Valley on the way – here’s a 3 minute intro to their wines. It’s one single take straight off without any editing, so the presentation is a bit, er, rustic!
Matt Walls - #Frenchwinetrip - Day 5 from Frenchwinetrip on Vimeo.
Wednesday 29th May
Day 5, Languedoc: What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger
When it comes to sweet wines, France has more stylistic diversity than any other country. Sauternes relies on still damp fogs to work its magic. For the Languedoc it’s the opposite: sun and drying winds. Though they may not have the cachet of the sweet wines of Bordeaux, the trump card of the Languedoc is its extraordinary diversity.
The range of colours is the first clue to this breadth of styles: pale yellow to orange; bright red to purple; pale tawny to dark brown. Since they can’t rely on botrytis here, they opt for a different method of intensifying the wines – adding a splash of pure alcohol during the fermentation of overripe grapes which halts the process, leaving some natural sweetness and loads of intense flavour.
They are as varied in character as they are in appearance. Most of the orange blossom and peach-scented Muscats get their concentrated flavour from an extended ripening period throughout the autumn. The sweet reds of Maury and Banyuls near the Spanish border are made primarily from late-harvested Grenache. They marry the acidity of a ripe raspberry with flavours of dried red and black fruits.
Both Maury and Rivesaltes use the white Maccabeu grape for some wines. The best are left to gradually evaporate for years in closed oak barrels, slowly browning over time. Sometimes the winemakers leave them outside in the summer heat to gently caramelise. The real mavericks put them into glass jars and sit them in the scorching sun. This would permanently destroy most other red and white wines – but not these. It only serves to concentrate them further and bestow upon them even more complexity and longevity. They are the Jedis of the wine world.
Tuesday 28th May
Day 4, Bordeaux to Languedoc: White gold
There are many components that make up a wine. From grape juice and yeast it derives acids, sugars, alcohol, tannins, pigments, various types of flavour compound and more. But the main ingredient is water. Reduce the water content and the rest becomes concentrated into an intensely flavoured, sticky nectar.
Over here, we call them dessert wines or sweet wines. But the fact that they are sweet isn’t really the point; it’s this intense concentration of elements that makes them so compelling. They remind me of those irresistibly sticky, crunchy, intensely meaty morsels stuck to the roasting pan when you lift out the meat. They are wines for greedy hedonists.
Leaving the city of Bordeaux, we followed the Garonne river 30km south until we crossed a chilly tributary known as the Ciron. They grow three white grape varieties here: rich Sémillon, fresh Sauvignon Blanc and musky Muscadelle. The difference in temperature between the two rivers causes damp fogs in the warm autumn mornings. It's the perfect breeding ground for moulds like botrytis.
Once it takes hold, the grapes turn bruise-purple and the skins thin to a crinkled film. The plant creates antibodies in an attempt to fight the fungus; these compounds add unique flavours of their own like mushroom, marmalade and spice. Eventually it causes tiny pores to open. The water in the grapes gradually evaporates and leaves the rest of the juice components behind in the shrivelled grapes. These are then picked, pressed, and the golden-coloured gloop that results is fermented.
The best sweet wines of Bordeaux come from Sauternes. Local winemaker Olivier Fargues briefly returned to making reds after his first experiments with sweet wine. But he couldn't keep away and now he co-owns a Sauternes estate. The fungus gets into you too, he says, and once it takes hold, there's no going back. He describes it as alchemy: using the magical mould to transform these white wines into gold. A marked contrast to the organised religion of the top Bordeaux reds.
This is just one bizarre practice in the world of sweet wine. Not to be outdone, the Languedoc has developed some of its own...
Monday 27th May
Day 3, Bordeaux: Entre-Deux-Mondes
Our day in Bordeaux was one of contrasts. Entre-Deux-Mers was our first stop, a relatively lowly appellation in Bordeaux but increasingly a source of good value everyday wines – especially the whites that blend zesty grapefruit flavours with toast and smoke. Château de Camarsac is well removed from the razzmatazz of the Médoc to the north. This 700-year-old château looks like schoolboy’s drawing of a castle; blocky battlements and cylindrical towers with conical turrets. If my friends inherited a castle, I’d imagine it would look a bit like this; a bit run-down and overgrown, but clearly well-loved and a lively family home.
The wine are of the same character; they tend to lack the French polish of the wines to the north but are still Bordeaux in flavour. And their prices usually stop where the wines of the Médoc start.
Our evening back in the centre of Bordeaux had a very different ambiance. It was spent in the manicured offices of Bordeaux négociant (business-to-business wine merchant) Cordier-Mestrezat. Historically, the top Bordeaux châteaux didn’t want to get their hands dirty with the unsavoury process of selling wine, so each year they would divide up their production between various négociants who would do this job for them. They have done such a good job of marketing the wines of Bordeaux that the prices of the best estates are now well out of reach of mere mortals.
It’s good to see that Cordier are trying to innovate and stay relevant, but it must be difficult working with top châteaux. The wines made by the Grands Crus Classés remind me of exotic pet birds. Exquisite creatures for sure, but trapped in glass cages by their high price tags. Nonetheless, their offices of Cordier-Mestrezat were impressively opulent, and a reminder of the glamour, glitz and wealth at the heart of Bordeaux.
Tomorrow we’ll be heading down to the Languedoc after visiting a producer of the most underrated of styles: sweet wines.
Sunday 26th May
Day 2, Loire Valley to Bordeaux: Somersaults
After a broken night’s sleep listening to drunk people trying to dismantle Tours city centre (nothing to do with Vitiloire I’m sure), we had breakfast and jumped into the van to go cycling. Our soundtrack was vintage French pop and the quiet clacking of laptop keys. After an hour, we arrived in the picture-postcard village of Montsereau, a little village near Saumur.
At the foot of the first hill the chain of my bike snapped. After some emergency cycle surgery, I caught up with the others for a leisurely tour around the windmills, wild flowers and pretty vineyards of Saumur-Champigny. Half an hour in, we stopped for a glass of wine. I stopped a bit too soon in fact and landed on my face. The characterful local red is made from Cabernet Franc, an underrated grape variety. It’s perfect for those looking for wines with more interesting flavours than simply black and red fruits – the ideal herbal remedy.
After a bit more cycling in the sun, we headed back downhill for lunch, Sebastian blowing his tyre and Faye snapping her breaks on the way. We sheepishly handed our bikes back to the hire company, and we scuttled off for lunch.
Most of the chateaux in this region are built from tuffeau, a soft, pale limestone. Digging it out of the hillsides has left 10km of naturally damp cellars, and a large cave that now houses a permanent shrine to the mushroom - formerly a booming local industry. It consists of a mushroom restaurant, a mushroom farm and a mushroom museum. Galipettes (somersaults) were on the menu – mushrooms baked with a rillettes, andouillette or cheese topping. We had all three, washed down with rosé, red and white Saumur.
Afterwards, we got back in the van and made the 4 hour drive down to Bordeaux – quite a different vibe to the relaxed charm of the Loire...
Matt Walls - #Frenchwinetrip - Day 2 from Frenchwinetrip on Vimeo.
Saturday 25th May
Day 1, London to the Loire Valley: Vouvrays and gay parades
It was a bright, sunny morning as I left London on the train to Paris. Arriving at the Gare du Nord, I jumped in a taxi to the Gare d’Austerlitz to pick up my connecting train to Tours in the Loire Valley. Narrowly dodging an impressively drunk man freewheeling on a bicycle in the middle of the road with a pair of crutches under his arm, we arrived at the station with 10 minutes to spare.
I hastily grabbed lunch on the way. Harbouring a suspicion that most of the fruit I would encounter from here on in would be poached in booze then wrapped in pastry, I invested in an apple for a continental 1€40. As the train approached my destination, dark clouds gathered overhead. Was it some kind of omen?
Of course it was – an uncomplicated omen that it was pissing it down in Tours. But the lively Vitiloire wine festival was taking place directly outside the hotel, and a spot of rain wasn’t stopping anyone. The crew assembled and we piled into a small exhibition space for an introductory tasting.
We pulled up some chairs, grabbed a glass each and the first cork was pulled. However it quickly became clear just how close we were to the music stage when a band started playing with the bug-eyed enthusiasm only an overconfident trombonist can muster. In France, you are never more than 500m from a brass band; but this was a little too close for comfort. Nevertheless, our guide Jean-Michel Durivault, a neurobiologist and Loire expert, succeeded in showing us the amazing diversity of the white wines of the Loire.
We started with a fine Muscadet, Jean-Michel pointing out with uncanny accuracy that it tastes like unripe strawberries. Muscadet is made from the impressively yet confusingly named ‘Burgundy Melon’ grape (Melon de Bourgogne). It’s hardly the fruitiest variety, so these light-bodied wines often take more flavour from the yeasts used than the grapes themselves.
Next we opened a Sancerre, surely the most famous of all Sauvignon Blancs. This a naturally aromatic variety, so when winemakers accentuate these fruity flavours the wines can become almost caricatured. In the Loire, producers tend to take the fruitiness for granted and look to pick out other elements of the grape, like florality or green vegetable notes that give the wines a bit more interest and complexity.
As we moved on to the Chenin Blancs things got even noisier. Now it was the Tours gay community’s turn to get rowdy, leading their annual parade right around our building. Jean-Michel sighed, shrugged, and did his best to contend with the whooping, whistles and passing trucks clattering out hard house.
Vouvray, however, has a diversity that pushes even the Tours gay scene into the background. It runs the scale of sweetness all the way from bone dry to fully sweet; it does saffron-scented botrytised sweet wines; it even does sparkling. And all using just the gifted Chenin Blanc grape.
Sparkling Vouvray is particularly worth sniffing out if you don’t know it. Made in the same method as Champagne but considerably cheaper, it has a toastiness from the yeast ageing in bottle that really works with Chenin’s natural honey aromas. It can be anything from dry to semi-sweet, but the Chenin Blanc grape is packed with tons of natural acidity that helps keep it fresh, balanced and delicious. All in all, a highly festive start to the trip.
Tomorrow: a cycling trip through the vines with a large glass of rouge. What could possibly go wrong?
24th May 2013
London
An Englishman, a Belgian, a Russian, a German, a Dutch girl and a Danish girl all get into a van... no, this isn't the start of a rude joke, it's a road trip around France taking place from 25th May to 2nd June. And yes, I am that Englishman! I've no idea what I've signed myself up for, but we'll be starting off in Paris, driving down to the Loire, then down to the Languedoc via Bordeaux, and back up again through Burgundy to Paris. We'll be tweeting along the way; the hashtag is #frenchwinetrip.
Just as tasting wines side by side can help you spot their differences and similarities more clearly, I'm hoping that having a little sample of all of these regions one after the other will help me see each one in a new light. I'm going to be adding an update to this post every day to let you know how we get on. Wish me luck! And pray that the other five don't discover a mutual love of West End showtunes...
Many thanks for Sopexa and FranceAgriMer for organising the trip and covering the costs of our attendance.
The Wine Snob: an endangered species?
The snob may look just like you and me, but it is parasite in disguise. It leaves its victim poisoned. When the snob discovered wine, like a facehugger, it pounced. But now the snob is weakened, dying; and wine is on the path to recovery.
Decades ago, wine had to be imported into the UK and like any foreign food or drink it was enjoyed mostly by the wealthy upper classes. Unlike a plate of food, most glasses of wine look pretty similar; but with practice, you can identify the good from the bad, the expensive from the cheap. It was the perfect prey for this spindly-legged social climber: displaying knowledge of wine could also imply a weighty bank balance. The wine snob crawled around the neck of the wine bottle, and held on tightly. But that was fifty years ago.
We buy wine mostly in supermarkets these days; like the other imported food and drink there, it need no longer be expensive. You can even buy it from the vineyard down the road in England. It is no longer the preserve of the upper classes. Everyone drinks it. The parasitic wine snob began to lose its grip years ago.
Both the wine lover and the wine snob have an interest in and knowledge of wine, but it’s how they use that knowledge that differs. The wine lover is inclusive, encouraging and enjoys sharing his or her understanding to bring pleasure to others. But many wine lovers have long felt the need to keep a low profile for fear of being mistaken for the wine snob. This imposter uses its knowledge to belittle, rebuff or embarrass others in order to make itself feel superior. In fact the real object of the wine snob’s affection is itself, not its prey.
Amassing a breadth of knowledge in a specialist field had considerable social value in the pre-internet age. Remember the omniscient owner of the independent music shop? Now you can search online, listen to a bunch of clips and download a selection of tracks without leaving the house, easily sidestepping the forbidding gatekeeper.
Knowledge was power, and could be wielded for good or evil. Now we all have knowledge in our pockets, accessible via a touchscreen. That 1992 Bordeaux on the wine list looks unbelievably cheap… Now you can pull up a vintage chart on your phone in an instant and find out why, rather than have to learn which years to avoid. Stripped of his powers, the wine snob is at risk of extinction.
Have you encountered one in the wild recently? No, neither have I. Would today’s social climber really spend their time learning about wine as a vehicle for their advancement? Times has moved on; these days there are far more relevant topics.
Nowadays the wine snob is more of a construct than anything else, a figment, a kind of bogeyman. It is invoked by those who have already made up their mind about wine without first exploring it themselves. Prejudice is often based on fear; the wine snob has become a personification of these fears. The person that conjures up the wine snob usually ends up saying more about themselves than the object of their suspicions.
The confusing web spun by the wine snob has been hard to brush away. The more real wine lovers can shine a light on what wine really is, the fewer places the wraithlike wine snob will be able to hide. There is nothing intrinsically class-bound about a glass of wine, any more than there is about a cup of tea, a pint of beer or a dram of whisky. Soon, calling someone a wine snob will make as much sense as calling someone a football snob, a sausage snob or a hip-hop snob. And the sooner true wine lovers make themselves known and sweep away the remains of the web, the sooner it will happen.
First published on www.timatkin.com.
Chablis: Ice queen
A brief introduction to the wines of Chablis...
You’d have trouble making drinkable wine further north than Chablis. Every year the local winegrowers sleep fitfully during spring, keeping one eye on the thermometer. Frost is a tireless threat, and can decimate a crop. But if the delicate buds make it through the spring, and the grapes soak up enough sun during the growing season, they can produce brilliant wines.
Chablis is a comfortable, touristy town lying between Burgundy and Champagne in north-east France. Its wines are always dry whites; and, like much Burgundy and Champagne, made from Chardonnay. It’s a versatile grape. In hotter regions it makes rich, golden wines that taste of pineapple and mango. Here, the fruit flavours it offers are at the leaner end of the scale; fresh green apple and lemon juice.
But it’s the other flavours these wines produce that make them unique. They smell of the sea; iodine, seashells, fresh scallops. Their taste is frequently described as ‘mineral’. Is it a coincidence that the best wines grow in a soil teeming with the fossils of tiny shellfish? Who knows; but they certainly go well with oysters.
When at their best, they resemble precious stones; transparent in colour except for flecks of green. The flavours are bright and sharply defined, all underpinned by a precise, glassy acidity. At the cheaper end, many drinkers expect too much from them: you tend to pay a premium at this end just for the name. Conversely the best are too often ignored by collectors, though they are unquestionably amongst the finest whites of France, and some of the best value.
The best vineyards stretch out along hills like fingers radiating out from the town. The best ones, the Premiers and Grands Crus, face the sun. The slopes are the key to the best quality, and give the wines intensity, richness and the ability to age – sometimes for decades. Wines with the simple ‘Chablis’ appellation can be enjoyable, if often quite straightforward, from the better growers. Those from the sprawling ‘Petit Chablis’ appellation don’t bear comparison close up; costume jewellery compared to the real thing.
As always, sticking to a good producer is the most reliable guarantee of quality. For an accessible introduction to the wines, try Domaine Laroche. Domaine des Malandes make excellent wines in a luxurious style. In terms of both quality and value, the classically-styled wines of Domaine Billaud-Simon are exceptional and well worth seeking out. Domaine Raveneau’s are cut from diamonds.
First published in Living France magazine.
2011 Rhône: the George Harrison vintage
Who was the best musician out of The Beatles? Let’s face it, it’s either Paul and John. What about George Harrison? After Paul and John, George comes a solid third. Sorry Ringo.
If 2011 Rhône was a Beatle, it would be George. The two stellar years of 2009 and 2010 would be Paul and John; 2011 takes a good third place. Though far from a write-off, 2008 was a bit of a Ringo. So 2011 is not a ‘great’ vintage for the Rhône that you should snap up and throw in the cellar. But there are some very good wines, particularly the whites and the Syrah from the north. Stylistically it is lighter and fresher than ’09 and ’10, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing.
The spring enjoyed a heatwave, as did the harvest. But a cold, wet July put a big dampener on proceedings. In the Southern Rhône, the resulting lighter and fresher character is typically evident in more restrained alcohol levels in the reds, but some lack exuberance. Good wines were made throughout the south, with some particularly good value to be found in Vacqueyras and Gigondas. From the 300 or so wines I tasted, 2011 was more beneficial for the whites than the reds in the Southern Rhône; some excellent white Châteauneuf was produced.
Although not a hot and dry vintage, the long ripening period on the vine followed by a warm harvest were enough to give the grapes a good level of maturity. Some 2008 Northern Rhône Syrahs have a green, unripe streak running through them, but this isn’t something the 2011s suffer from. The cooler growing season has given the best reds from the north gorgeous freshness and aromatics if not the power and concentration of the previous two years. Many of the more generic wines and some Crozes-Hermitage are delicious already, displaying high-toned violet aromas, peppery spice and fresh blackberry fruit that you only find in the Rhône Valley. The wines display their different terroirs with precision: René Rostaing describes it as “un millésime de terroir, pas un millésime de soleil”.
As in the south, some excellent whites were made in the north. They may not have the power of the 2010s, but some of the white Hermitage and Condrieu from 2011 are exceptionally pretty and offer truly delightful drinking. Though leaner in style, St Péray has considerably upped its game yet again. Thankfully for us, the prices still haven’t caught up yet – this is where to hunt for value whites.
So is this a vintage to buy? That depends on whether you bought any 2010s. If you did, congratulations, that was a very smart move. But the best wines won’t come into their own for another 10 years or more, and you’re going to need something to drink in the shorter term. For the soft succulence of the south, there were some delicious, and good value, reds and whites but buy with care. Overall it was marginally better in the north; if you like that fresh, perfumed style of Syrah, you’ll love this vintage. But there’s no need to go nuts.
Below are 35 standout whites and reds from what I tasted at Bancroft Wines, OW Loeb, Berry Brothers, Lay & Wheeler and Montrachet Fine Wines. If you didn’t buy any 2010s there is still time – do not miss them. And in the meantime, the 2011s, like George Harrison, play an excellent supporting role.
The highlights (all pricing ex duty and VAT, per 12 bottles unless otherwise stated)
2011 Southern Rhône whites
Châteauneuf-du-Pape Blanc, Domaine Bosquets des Papes (13.5%, £23.50 inc. VAT per bottle, OW Loeb)
Still slightly closed peach and apricot fruit, with some lifted floral notes. Medium-bodied, well balanced, with a little mineral touch adding to the length. Sweet ripe fruit, but ends dry and neat. 91 points, fair value.
Châteauneuf-du-Pape Blanc, Domaine Grand Veneur, ‘La Fontaine Blanc’ (14%, £225 Bancroft)
100% Roussanne. Still showing some oak on the nose for now, but plenty of peach and pineapple underneath waiting to take its place. Full-bodied and mineral with a long finish. Plenty of intensity and well balanced. 92 points, good value.
Châteauneuf-du-Pape Blanc, Domaine Raymond Usseglio, Pure Roussanne (14%, £288 Berry Bros)
A weighty wine, but displaying more herbs and spices than fruits on the nose, and a touch of coconut. Full-bodied, yet fresh, with a lean finish. Highly individual. 93 points, fair value.
Châteauneuf-du-Pape Blanc, Château de Beaucastel, Vieilles Vignes (14%, £792 Lay & Wheeler)
100% Roussanne from 80+ year old vines in 20% new oak barrels, making 6000 bottles. Banana and pineapple in crème pâtissière, with a pleasing vegetal streak. Fat and full-bodied yet tightly wound for now. Huge power and very long, with a spicy, musky finish that spreads like an estuary. Perilously low acidity, but enough to push it through into the long term. 97 points, fair value.
2011 Northern Rhône whites
St. Péray, Alain Voge, ‘Terres Boisées’ (13.5%, £147 Lay & Wheeler)
Citrussy – lots of aromatic lime fruit with some stone fruit aromas and a layer of oak. Keen, lean and flinty on the nose, but then surprisingly weighty in the mouth. Good acidity to balance this out though. 89 points, good value.
St Joseph Blanc, Domaine Coursodon, ‘Le Paradis St Pierre’ (14%, £204 Berry Bros)
Classic slate and ripe apricot nose. Medium-bodied, with a lovely texture and very nicely balanced. Nothing clever or fancy, just classic and well made. 91 points, good value.
St. Péray, Domaine du Tunnel, ‘Cuvée Prestige’ (13.5%, £192 Berry Bros)
Leaner fruit on the nose after so many Condrieus – apricot, a touch of flint and underlying lime blossom. Medium-bodied lean fruit on the palate, but sculpted and defined. Tidy fresh mineral finish. 92 points, very good value.
Condrieu, Domaine Michel et Stéphane Ogier, ‘La Combe de Malleval’ (13.5%, £287 Montrachet Fine Wine)
Peach and cocoa butter with a hint of spice and flowers. Full and round but not fat. A little pleasing bitter twist, adding to the impression of dryness and minerality on the finish. Good length. 92 points, fair value.
Hermitage Blanc, M. Chapoutier, ‘Chante Alouette’ (14%, £288 Berry Bros)
Stéphane Barlerin from Maison Chapoutier describes this as “one of the best we’ve ever made” and it is undoubtedly very impressive. Apricot flavours with citrussy acidity. Fresh, medium-bodied, very attractive and drinkable already. Integrated oak. Vibrant and long, with a dry, mineral finish. A smart buy. 93 points, good value.
Condrieu, André Perret, ‘Côteaux de Chéry’ (13.5%, £336 Lay & Wheeler)
Some wines stick in your mind for some reason after a tasting, and this was one of those for me. A relatively light and pretty Condrieu, only medium-bodied, but very attractive. Highly floral and aromatic nose of flat peaches and almonds. Nicely balanced, with a silky mouthfeel, and already a joy to drink. 93 points, fair value.
Condrieu, François Villard, ‘Deponcins’ (13%, £339 Lay & Wheeler)
Intense nectarine dominating for now, with an appealing vegetal element underneath (celery); but clearly lots more to unfurl. Full-bodied, with lots of texture and minerals. Clean, intense and long. 93 points, fair value.
Condrieu, Domaine Yves Cuilleron, ‘Vertige’ (14%, £528 Berry Bros)
From the Coteau de Vernon. Intense nose already, very lively and fresh. Peach, rhubarb and mace. Concentrated, but light on its feet. Serious. 94 points, fair value.
Condrieu, Domaine Georges Vernay, ‘Coteau de Vernon’ (14%, £696 Berry Bros)
Intensely wound peach and apricot, with coconut, macadamia and flowers. Good intensity, concentration and tension. Well integrated oak. Long and well balanced. Classic stuff. 94 points, just about fair value.
Hermitage Blanc, Marc Sorrel, ‘Les Rocoules’ (14.5%, £690 Lay & Wheeler; £792 Berry Bros)
Apricot, mandarin, coconut, macadamia, marzipan and some spicy oak on the nose. Lovely silky mouthfeel with a tiny touch of tannin, and a wonderful intensity that builds on the finish. Pure and powerful, but leaves you with an impression of sublime freshness. Highly characterful. 95 points, just about fair value.
Hermitage Blanc, M. Chapoutier, ‘Le Méal’ (14.5%, £960 Berry Bros)
Lanolin and peach can be coaxed out, but still closed on the nose. Full-bodied and very intense with wonderful mouthfeel and texture. Long, complex and grand, with just enough acidity to keep it going. Hard to spit. 96 points, just about fair value.
2011 Southern Rhône reds
Vacqueyras, Domaine Montirius, ‘Le Clos’ (14.5%, £96 OW Loeb; £102 Berry Bros)
A touch oaky on the nose still, but not so much as to cover up the perfumed Syrah fruit and spice. Rounded, with coating ripe tannins and a lovely mouthfeel. Concentrated. Alcohol appears a touch high, but this has class. 90 points, very good value.
Lirac, Domaine Lafond Roc-Epine (13.5%, £97 Montrachet Fine Wine)
Spicy dark brambly fruits, with some juniper in the background. Sweet ripe fruit with a hint of cola. All held together by zingy acidity and ripe tannin. Vibrant and expressive. 90 points, very good value.
Vacqueyras, Domaine du Grand Prieur (14%, £107 Montrachet Fine Wine)
Lots of fresh and dried herbs – sage and bay. Some black olive too. Appealing, balanced and very drinkable. 90 points, good value.
Gigondas, Domaine Carobelle (15%, £137 Montrachet Fine Wine)
Herbal brambly black fruits. Juicy, with attractive ripe fruits and a good whack of tannin. Although the alcohol level is high, it’s not unbalanced to taste. Traditional style, unmistakably Gigondas. 90 points, good value.
Châteauneuf-du-Pape, Domaine Bosquets des Papes, ‘Cuvée Tradition’ (14.5%, £175 OW Loeb; £217 Montrachet Fine Wine)
Enticing fresh plum and blackberry. Lots of ripe tannin and oodles of sweet fruit with peppery herbs on the finish. Concentrated, with good balancing acidity. Long. 92 points, good value.
Gigondas, Domaine de la Bouïssière (14.5%, £177 Lay & Wheeler; £182 Montrachet Fine Wine)
Lovely expressive fruits; strawberry, black cherry and cocoa. Like black forest gateau. Then some bay leaf herbality on the lively finish. Good concentration. This is very well done. 92 points, good value.
Châteauneuf-du-Pape, Domaine Pierre Usseglio, ‘Cuvée Tradition’ (14.5%, £210 Lay & Wheeler)
Classically-styled yet clean Châteauneuf, with lots of pure, sweet strawberry and plum fruit. A good heft of ripe tannin at its core, with noticeable but balanced oak. 92 points, fair value.
Châteauneuf-du-Pape, Domaine Grand Veneur, Vieilles Vignes (14.5%, £380 Bancroft)
A very intense and powerful Châteauneuf, and very young at this stage. Lots of plum, bramble and damson fruit, all tightly wound up around a solid core of ripe tannin. Dry, fresh and long. With enough time this could be very good indeed. 93 points, fair value.
Châteauneuf-du-Pape, Château de Beaucastel (14.5%, £444 Lay & Wheeler)
Bright and pure. High toned strawberry, ripe plums and violets. Good concentration of fruit, not too full or fat and very long. The alcohol shows a little at the moment, but it is essentially balanced. 93 points, fair value.
2011 Northern Rhône reds
Côtes-du-Rhône-Villages Plan de Dieu, Domaine Michel et Stéphane Ogier, ‘Le Temps est Venu’ (14%, £97 Montrachet Fine Wine)
Simple but authentic fruits: strawberry, raspberry, redcurrant and blueberry. Just about medium-bodied – fresh berry juice with a waft of tannin. Very drinkable. 88 points, good value.
Crozes-Hermitage, Domaine Aléofane (Natacha Chave) (13.5%, £108 OW Loeb)
Fresh brambly fruits and spicy black pepper. Light on its feet, with fresh acidity. Medium-bodied, vibrant and dynamic, this is ideal early drinking for lovers of aromatic Rhône Syrah. 89 points, very good value.
St Joseph, Domaine Aléofane (Natacha Chave) (13.5%, £125 OW Loeb)
Slightly closed on the nose still, but some ripe blackberry and raspberry fruits to enjoy. Silky and round in the mouth with lots of nerve and freshness that makes this feel exciting to drink. 91 points, good value.
Crozes-Hermitage, Yann Chave, ‘Le Rouve’ (13.5%, £172 Montrachet Fine Wine)
Very attractive and appealing expressive aromatics: dark fruits, violets and cola. Juicy, fresh and lively. Delightful young drinking for fans of that high-toned, fresh style of Rhône Syrah. 91 points, fair value.
Cornas, Domaine du Tunnel (13.5%, £284 OW Loeb; £276 Berry Bros; £307 Montrachet Fine Wine)
Wonderful lifted black pepper and violets on the nose with juicy raspberry and flint. Full-bodied, with lots of ripe muscular tannins. Intense concentration with surging flavours and a very long savoury finish. Well-balanced with a tannic undertow on the finish. Fresh, vibrant, with no hint of dirtiness. A very individual, modern style of Cornas. 94 points, good value.
St Joseph, Domaine Pierre et Jerome Coursodon, ‘La Sensonne’ (14%, £322 Montrachet Fine Wine)
Intense Syrah spice, struck flint and wood smoke. Some fresh earth too. Intense but lifted fruit with lots of ripe tannin and good balancing acidity. Deep and dark, with some star anise on the finish. Surprisingly powerful for this vintage. A very impressive St Joseph. 93 points, fair value.
Hermitage, Marc Sorrel, ‘Classique’ (13%, £336 Berry Bros)
Remarkably pale ruby in colour, with lean hedgerow fruit. Medium to full-bodied with great structure that belies its appearance and lovely balance. Very classic, and a delicious wine even if it lacks the fruit to be a Hermitage for long ageing. 92 points, fair value.
Côte-Rôtie, Domaine René Rostaing, ‘Cuvée Classique, Ampodium’ (13%, £348 Berry Bros; £348 Lay & Wheeler)
A blend of 13 parcels. Aromatic strawberry and raspberry fruits with some iodine and violets. A lighter, floral style of Côte-Rôtie with fresh sweet fruit and smooth slightly powdery tannins. Well crafted and subtly nuanced but not without some power and sap. 92 points, fair value.
Hermitage, Yann Chave (13.5%, £452 Montrachet Fine Wine)
Wonderful deep dark brooding fruit and a whack of spice. Full-bodied, and thick with ripe tannins. Well balanced, with integrated oak. Long, intense and serious. 93 points, just about fair value.
Côte-Rôtie, Domaine Pierre Gaillard, ‘Rose Pourpre’ (13%, £600 Berry Bros)
100% Syrah, from La Cote Rosier, just underneath La Landonne. Spicy, with intense fruit. Medium to full, but intensely fresh and vibrant. Ripe, mouth coating tannins, very long and pure. 93 points, fair value.
Hermitage, Marc Sorrel, ‘Le Gréal’ (15%, £690 Lay & Wheeler; £792 Berry Bros)
High-toned fruit aromas, wild strawberry and sour cherry. Dry, but soft and rounded, with lots of berry and dark stone fruits, herbs and smoke. Pure, with sweet fruit and tannins. Subtle yet powerful, and already showing complexity. 94 points, fair value.
Côte-Rôtie, Domaine René Rostaing, ‘La Côte Blonde’ (13%, £792 Lay & Wheeler)
3 – 4% Viognier. Raspberry, strawberry, cranberry and bramble. Soft, fragrant and lightly spiced with some liquorice notes in the background. Juicy if lean fruit, just about full-bodied. Perfectly balanced, captivating and extremely drinkable. Flinty minerality on the very long finish. Already compelling, joyful, wonderfully pure and utterly delicious. Not hugely powerful or built for the very long term, but nonetheless a brilliant example of classic Rhône Syrah from one of the masters. 96 points, fair value.
First published on www.timatkin.com.