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.
Gevrey-Chambertin: Deep Burgundy
A brief introduction to the wines of Gevrey-Chambertin in Burgundy…
With over 600 vineyards across 100 appellations, Burgundy can be a daunting region to explore. Especially when most vineyards are split between numerous producers – some lazy, some gifted.
There’s no easy way in. Just choose one village at a time and taste a handful of its wines; then move on to the next. It will take a lifetime of course, and you’ll never reach the end. But there could be no more rewarding journey. A good yardstick for quality is Gevrey-Chambertin, situated at the heart of the Côte de Nuits, the best area for reds.
The producers of Bordeaux to the west are well-known for their immaculate grooming, smart suits and imposing châteaux. Burgundy to the east, 15km south of Dijon, couldn’t be more different. The properties are far less grand, and their owners are more likely to be dressed in muddy boots, their faces contoured with sun-baked laughter-lines. Few wines impress like the best of Bordeaux, but the finest Burgundies evoke a more emotional response.
Gevrey-Chambertin is a pretty if unremarkable village of 3000 or so inhabitants. But the surrounding vineyards are something special. They are so revered that Napoleon ordered his troops to salute its best vineyards, the Grands Crus, when marching past.
What makes them so unique? It’s mostly down to matching a particularly magical grape variety with the soils and climate that helps it reach its full potential. The one thing that is easy to understand about Burgundy is the grapes. On the whole, if it’s red, it’s made of Pinot Noir and if it’s white it’s made of Chardonnay. Around Gevrey, they only make red.
Though relatively pale and weightless compared to Cabernet Sauvignon or Syrah, Pinot Noir is at its most intense in Gevrey-Chambertin. It still displays the classic Pinot Noir aromatic red berries, but it takes on meaty, mushroomy, woodland aromas as it ages. Unusually for this grape, the wines can survive for decades, taking on an unrivalled complexity of flavour as they mature. While some Burgundies are beloved of florists or perfumiers, these Pinot Noirs are for foragers and their truffle hounds.
There are over 100 producers of Gevrey-Chambertin. Domaine Armand Rousseau is the most celebrated, but there are many more accessible ones to explore. Look out for Domaines Rossignol-Trapet, J & JL Trapet, Fourrier, Maume, and Denis Mortet. Their wines will give you a clear view across these legendary vineyards.
First published in Living France magazine.
Communion wine: forbidden fruit
If Jesus had chosen something other than the fruit of the vine for his followers to worship him with, today’s wine lovers might have a harder time indulging their hobby. You might have to meet up with a mate of a mate in a pub car park to collect a few bottles made from hydroponically grown grapes. Failing that, you’d have to take a walk through the dodgier part of town, listening out for a shady bloke whispering ‘French red’ or ‘Italian gold’.
Thanks to the spread of Christianity, however, and its ritual of the Eucharist (the sharing of consecrated bread and wine by believers), wine has been cultivated over the centuries by monks and spread around the globe by missionaries. Although it contains a mind-altering substance, the ritualistic role it was assigned in society has no doubt helped keep it legal. Without religion, New World wine would barely exist. Though the secular wine lover owes a debt of gratitude to Christianity, there is one style that it keeps all to itself: communion wine.
Communion wine is made in a variety of different styles. It can be made anywhere in the world, but has to be made from unadulterated grape juice that has been blessed. Some wineries specialise in it, but others make it in addition to the rest of their production. Either way they have to have the bishop round once a year to check it is being made correctly: “The wine must be natural, made from grapes of the vine, and not corrupt” according to the Code of Cannon Law of the Catholic Church. Fortunately for Frank Buck, this doesn’t mean it needs to be a natural wine; just that no flavourings or preservatives are added (apart from sulphur, which is permitted).
Most communion wine sold commercially is fortified however to help it remain in good condition after opening; it’s only used once a week after all. The rules state that it can only be fortified with grape spirit, and this has to take place during fermentation (so more like Port than Sherry), and to no more than 18% ABV. The resulting wine can be either sweet or dry depending on the taste of the vicar and his flock; a great way to piss off your congregation, I’m reliably informed, is to change the communion wine without consulting them first. There’s only one style no producer seems to make and that’s sparkling; a glaring gap in the market.
It also comes in different colours: red, white or amber. Since Catholics believe in transubstantiation, in other words the wine actually becomes the blood of Christ during the Eucharist, you’d think they’d opt for the red version. But speaking to John Hopthrow of candle maker and church suppliers Charles Farris, ironically they more often go for white. Anglicans believe that the wine only represents the blood of Christ, but conversely they more often go for red. The popularity of the white style is thanks to a rather mundane benefit: it is easier to wash out of church furnishings.
The wine is almost always watered down to some extent before use, usually around two-thirds water to one-third wine; again, it depends on the denomination. Some, like the Baptists, don’t use wine at all but pasteurised grape juice. Members of the Armenian Rite however drink it entirely undiluted. I know which one I’d join.
The fact that the sacrament contains alcohol occasionally causes problems. A friend of mine knows a priest who worked in Dubai for many years, and had to resort to grape juice because getting hold of wine proved too tricky. It can also pose problems for recovering alcoholics. In 1974, Catholic bishops were permitted to allow priests that had been treated for alcoholism to use grape juice instead of wine: but this was revoked in 1983. This is not ideal, as the priest needs to down any remaining wine in the chalice at the end of the service (partly to stop Satanists getting their hands on it, I’m told).
Most traditional chalices are made of silver due to its slight antiseptic properties: no bad thing if it is being shared around a large group. The Orthodox Research Institute says this isn’t a big worry though: “From a purely experiential perspective, every chalice on Sundays is consumed in its totality by the priest, after several mouths have communed from it. No priest, including the writer of this column, has ever become ill or incapacitated after consuming the Holy Gifts.” Sharing a chalice is just one way that it is consumed by the congregation. The wine can also be dripped onto the palm, have bread dipped in it and shared that way, or be sipped through a silver or golden straw called (somewhat unfortunately) a fistula.
A bottle of communion wine will set you back typically around £7. Alan Matthews is General Manager of Charles Farris and he confirms that there is nothing to stop you buying it to drink at home. Although “perfectly drinkable” however, he isn’t aware of any customers buying it for pleasure. You’d probably give me a funny look if I turned up to your party with a bottle of Sanctifex Golden Dry under my arm. I bet you’d have a little sip though – just to see.
Tasting notes
NV Poterion Fairtrade Communion Red Wine (15%, Western Cape, South Africa, £7.50)
Fortified Cabernet Sauvignon, 100g residual sugar, certified organic. Plain ruby red, perhaps not as clear as it could be. Spicy plum and sultana notes on the nose and a smudge of volatile acidity. Sweet, with slightly jagged acidity and a simple stewed plum fruitiness on the finish that fades quite fast. Somewhere between a Banyuls and a ruby port in style. 81 points.
NV Poterion Fairtrade Communion White Wine (15%, Western Cape, South Africa, £7.50)
Fortified Muscat. Pale gold in colour. Some apricot and peach notes on the nose, not that enticing, high-toned and with a hint of struck match. Very sweet, but essentially balanced. Hot finish. A bit like a rather simple Muscat de Beaumes de Venise. 80 points.
First published on www.timatkin.com.
Bottles of paradise
A brief introduction to the wines of Corsica...
In Corsica, the regional wine is designated ‘Vin de Pays d’Île de Beauté’. Now a level of provincial pride is to be expected in France, but naming your region the ‘Island of Beauty’ takes some beating. But in reality it’s actually an understatement; Corsica is jaw-droppingly, heart-stoppingly ravishing.
Travelling the unhurried narrow gauge railway from diminutive capital Ajaccio in the south-west of the island to Bastia in the North is an unforgettable journey through dense forest and around high jagged peaks. Both cities have excellent vinegrowing land nearby, and some of the country’s best wineries. It’s largely around the verdant edges of the island that the grapes are grown however, amongst the fragrant herbal scrubland known as the maquis.
Corsica is sunnier and drier than any part of mainland France. It resides in the Mediterranean, 170km south-east of Nice, just 11km north of Sardinia. Unsurprisingly it feels somewhere between France and Italy, and that’s exactly how the wines taste too.
The dominant red variety is the savoury Nielluccio, identical to the Chianti grape Sangiovese. It is usually blended with another local red variety, the softer and juicier Sciacarello. Neither of these can be found on mainland France. That this island lies further south than the Languedoc, you might reasonably expect the wines to be thick and powerful, but most reds are medium-bodied rather than full, often with a thyme-tinged whisper of maquis.
Vermentino is the principal white grape, and can make refreshingly dry, mineral and aromatic wines which work well with the local seafood. If you like rosé, Corsica should definitely be on your radar. Similar to those of Provence, the best Corsican rosés are dry, subtle in flavour with a lovely silky texture, but are often better value; try Domaine Saparale’s from Sartène, or Clos Culombu’s from Calvi.
Most Corsican wine is best drunk young and fresh, though some estates such as Domaine de Torraccia in Porto-Vecchio in the south-east make more ageworthy reds; their 2006 ‘Oriu’ is still delicious today. Some of the excellent sweet Muscats in the north of the island around Patrimonio can also develop more complexity over the years. Domaine Antoine Arena in Cap Corse makes some of the best.
When exploring the wines of France, it’s easy to forget about little Corsica. It may be justly famous as being one of the most beautiful islands of the Mediterranean, but their charming wines also deserve a look.
First published in Living France magazine.
Everyday value? The best and worst of supermarket own label wines
Lined up against the wall in my hallway, they stood quietly like forlorn commuters queuing for a bus. These were not bottles to make a taster salivate. Why didn't I suggest a tasting of vintage Champagnes instead, I wondered? But this is the sharp end of the market: a collection of 92 supermarket value wines that represents much of what we actually drink here in the UK. There was no turning back. I approached the tasting with an open mind, and began the business of mass unscrewing.
According to Accolade Wines’ Wine Nation Report 2012, 81% of wine bought for home consumption in the UK comes from supermarkets. The average retail price of a bottle of wine stands at £5.06. Tesco, the UK’s largest supermarket, alone sells on average 5 million bottles of wine every week. Supermarket own-label wines are making up an increasing proportion of sales. But they rarely proactively show all these wines, that they sell in huge volumes, to journalists.
I gathered them together from four UK supermarkets: Tesco, Sainsbury’s, Asda and relative UK newcomer Aldi. All but three of the wines were priced from £3.89 to £5.99 – around a pound either side of the UK average. For Sainsbury’s and Tesco, this was the bottom tier of their own-label ranges (House and Simply respectively), and corresponding slices of Asda Wine Selection and Aldi’s own-label selections. Most were still whites and reds, but it also included seven rosés and three sparkling wines.
Since the wines I tasted are at the cheapest end of what is possible to produce, I was expecting some mediocre wines. Mediocre quality is acceptable if it is still fair value for money. Dreadful wine is not. I found both. I also found some gems.
What can you expect from a wine priced at £3.99? Well £2.56 is tax, so just £1.43 worth of wine for a start: and this needs to include all the packaging, shipping, handling, storage and delivery. So you can’t really expect mind-bending rapture in a glass. As with all consumer goods, you get what you pay for. But it’s reasonable to expect the following quality criteria at a minimum:
• The wine is free from serious technical faults.
• It tastes like what it claims to be (grape variety and region/country).
• It is enjoyable to drink.
Mediocre and poor quality exists as with any food and drink product. Quality-minded small wine shop chains have a tough time sourcing wine that is less than £6.00 a bottle that they are proud to put on their shelves. The cheapest wine at Oddbins is £5.50; Tanners, £5.75; Lea & Sandeman, £5.95; Corks Out, £6.50.
Unsurprisingly, with own-label wines price remains a strong indicator of quality – a pound at this level makes a huge difference to what you can source as a supermarket buyer. But there is a far from direct correlation: the cheapest wine was not the worst and the most expensive wine was not the best.
I judged each wine for value for money as well as quality, and found that on average the wines were just shy of fair value. Though over a quarter (27 wines) were good value or very good value, 40 wines were either not great or poor value.
The reds, on the whole, fared better than the whites. The rosés fared worst of all; two of the dry rosés were just about OK, but all of the sweeter styles were very bad indeed. The Sainsbury’s House Zinfandel Rosé NV is a strange drink. I like strawberry ice lollies as much as the next man, but I wouldn’t like drinking melted ones mixed with cheap vodka for enjoyment. Of the sparkling wines I tasted, only one was good quality – Tesco Simply Prosecco NV.
Other styles to avoid are Bordeaux and Pinot Grigio, all of which showed really badly (with the exception of Aldi Bordeaux Supérieur 2011). And if a wine doesn’t state either a grape variety or a region on the label, walk away and don’t look back. Chenin Blancs tended to disappoint especially at the cheaper end; and all wines from the USA were uniformly awful. All of these styles of wines can be excellent: just not the ones I tasted here.
If you’re looking for safe bets, some styles were more reliable. Both Australian wines and Spanish wines were often some of the top performers. A pleasant surprise was the Chiantis on offer: it can be pretty thin, mean and tannic in the wrong hands, but all three were of an acceptable or good quality and fair to good value.
So out of the four supermarkets, who were the most impressive? Wines were marked out of 100 for quality, and out of 5 for value. Wines were tasted ‘supplier blind’ and with the packaging covered up.
Aldi (average price £4.92; average quality 84.1, average value 3.8) were the outright winners in terms of both quality and value, despite not being the most expensive. Only one of their wines was unacceptable in terms of the quality criteria above, fewer than any other supplier. They had the highest proportion of wines scoring 85 points or above. This result is all the more surprising since they are the smallest of the four, and positioned as a discount supermarket.
Asda (£4.97, 82.1, 3.0) put in a solid performance. All their wines were taken from the £3.98 to £5.98 segment of their Wine Selection own-label range. The wines were fairly priced and well presented. Three of their wines didn’t make the grade, but none were extremely bad.
Tesco (£4.95, 81.4, 2.5) supplied their Simply range. In terms of quality and value, they weren’t quite up to the standard of Aldi or Asda, but not far off. Six from the range weren’t up to scratch; three of these were very bad (two from California, one Portuguese rosé) but none of them were inexcusably awful. A quarter of their wines scored 85 or above, a hit rate only bettered by Aldi.
Sainsbury’s (£4.38, 79.7, 2.3) fared the least well, though it’s important to point out that the House range that they put forward are priced considerably lower than the other three supermarkets. These wines are priced at £4.38 on average, compared to the other suppliers whose wines were priced closer to £4.95 on average. So unsurprisingly the quality tended to be lower; so was the value amongst these cheaper wines. All their wines were priced between £3.99 and £4.99. But only two of these scored 85 or above, whereas Tesco had five wines that scored 85 or above at £4.99 or less per bottle. So upper limit of price isn’t the only factor in play here. And four from the Sainsbury’s House range were shockingly bad.
(Morrisons were also keen to take part but they are part-way through a revision of their entire own-label range, to be unveiled this autumn.)
It’s not uncommon in the wine trade press to read references to ‘the consumer’; how they need ‘educating’ about wine. But looking at the numbers, I’d say the average drinker seems to know what he or she is doing. Amongst what I tasted, quality is pretty shaky until you hit £4.98, at which point quality becomes much more reliable. Spending the current average of £5.06 per bottle in the supermarkets might not guarantee you something brilliant; but it greatly increases your chances of avoiding the worst offenders.
A reasonably good bottle is satisfactory for many people that aren’t that into wine; a bit like me with coffee, I know a reasonably good one when I taste it, and that’s OK for me. I don’t care enough about it to spend a fortune on the best. I probably wouldn’t notice if it was incredible quality. But I would notice if it was rubbish. There are still some bad wines to be found amongst supermarket own-label ranges; but there are some gems to be plucked out too. Below are some of the best – and the worst.
Five best whites (details on region and producer where available)
2012 Tesco Simply Riesling (Rheinhessen, Zimmermann-Graeff & Muller, 11%, £4.79)
Clean and floral with citrussy mandarin aromas and lime. Medium sweet, balanced with fruity acidity. Fresh and crisp, but with some Rheinhessen weight and fatness. A good quality wine, balanced and reasonably long, albeit best enjoyed now. 87 points, very good value.
2011 Aldi Exquisite Collection Gavi (12%, £4.99)
Lemon pith and almond with a (slightly overdone) layer of spicy oak on top. Smooth mouthfeel, good intensity of flavour with a slightly creamy yet dry and crisp finish. This is an enjoyable wine, and identifiably Gavi. 87 points, very good value.
2011 Tesco Simply Soave Classico (Equipe Srl, 12%, £4.79)
Subtle on the nose; attractive green almond and floral notes. Smooth and silky, light and fresh. Not long, but clean on the finish. 86 points, very good value.
2012 Asda Wine Selection Margaret River Semillon Sauvignon Blanc (13%, £5.98)
Spicy nectarine nose with a bit of spice. Full-bodied, but with juicy fruit and enough acidity to keep it standing up. Reasonable length of fruit and quite clean. 86 points, good value.
2012 Asda Wine Selection Langhorne Creek Chardonnay (12.5%, £5.98)
Tropical peach and banana with some bubblegum aromas. Oaky, but balanced, perhaps a touch on the sweet side, but essentially dry. Creamy finish. 86 points, good value.
Honourable mentions: NV Tesco Simply Prosecco (11%, £6.99), 2011 Aldi Exquisite Collection Touraine Sauvignon Blanc (12.5%, £4.99)
Five worst whites
NV Sainsbury’s House Hock (9%, £3.99)
Not much on the nose apart from something confected, like a whiff of penny sweets. And the faint smell of watered-down bitters – fennel and aniseed. Medium sweet, with no fruit to speak off, though it is essentially balanced. Dilute and short. The ghost of a wine, that was unhappy in life. 68 points, poor value.
NV Sainsbury’s House Sweet White (Tierra de Castilla, 10.5%, £3.99)
The sweet sickly smell of an ill man holding overripe peaches in a kidney ward. But not without some passable peach and apricot flavour. Nearly makes amends on the finish, with enough acidity to throw it out the door. 70 points, poor value.
NV Tesco Simply Californian Chardonnay (13%, £4.79)
It smells of tinned peaches. It has the texture of their syrup. It finished with a cruel acidity like licking the sharpened tin. And at £4.79 it’s hardly even that cheap. 71 points, poor value.
NV Sainsbury’s House Dry White (France, 11.5%, £3.99)
Musky peach, and an unpleasant spicy note, a kind of fake oak smell. Some fruit on the palate, but lifeless and sullen. 74 points, poor value.
2011 Asda Wine Selection Verdicchio Classico (12%, £4.58)
Sweaty, with some struck match in the background. Strangely saline. Pretty dilute. Not much pleasure here. 78 points, poor value.
Five best reds 2011
2010 Aldi ‘Minarete’ Ribera del Duero Roble (13.5%, £5.49)
Bags of black fruit overlaid with measured spicy oak. Full-bodied with thick black fruits and cola in the mouth. Tangy acidity, lots of ripe tannin, and good length. 87 points, very good value.
2009 Asda Wine Selection Dão (13%, £5.48)
This has a little whiff of smoke and spice alongside ripe berry fruits. Medium-bodied, with soft ripe tannins adding to the smooth mouthfeel. Good concentration, balance and quite persistent flavours. Tastes authentic. 87 points, very good value.
2006 Aldi Baron Amarillo Rioja Reserva (Bodegas Señorío de Hueda, 13.5%, £5.99)
Modern style Rioja, lots of ripe black fruits and varnishy American oak. Medium-bodied and clean with vibrant acidity. Plenty to chew on. 87 points, good value.
2011 Tesco Simply Garnacha (Campo de Borja, Bodegas Borsao, 13.5%, £4.59)
Freshly squished raspberries, strawberries and redcurrants. Very expressive and pure fruitiness, but with enough tannin to hold it up. Dry, lots of energy, would make good summer drinking. 87 points, very good value.
2011 Aldi Exquisite Collection Uco Valley Malbec, Argentina (Bodegas Salentein, 14%, £5.99)
Classic Malbec aromas of brambly fruits and some blueberries. Big and reasonably powerful, but balanced and lively. Fair length of flavour. 86 points, good value.
Honourable mentions: 2011 Aldi Bordeaux Supérieur (13%, £4.99), 2011 Sainsbury’s House Valpolicella (11.5%, £4.79), 2011 Aldi Exquisite Collection South Eastern Australian Shiraz (14%, £5.99), 2012 Asda Wine Selection Barossa Valley Shiraz (14%, £5.98), 2011 Tesco Simply Chianti (12.5%, £4.99).
Five worst reds
NV Sainsbury’s House Red Wine (France, 12%, £3.99)
The faint aroma of spicy red fruit given off still manages to be aggressive. Mean and short, with little on the finish but acid and scratchy tannin. Moody. 74 points, poor value.
NV Tesco Simply Zinfandel (13%, £4.79)
Ever have those strawberry ‘shoe lace’ sweets as a child? That’s what it smells like. Off dry, with confected strawberry fruit, then some naked acidity suddenly jumps up and streaks through the finish. This is silly. 75 points, poor value.
2011 Asda Wine Selection Claret (12.5%, £4.00)
Some red fruit, but also some unripe stalky smells. Dry, with rough tannin and emaciated fruits. Old fashioned, in a bad way. 77 points, poor value.
2011 Asda Wine Selection French Syrah (Pays d’Oc, 13%, £4.48)
The Syrah tries to assert a bit of its smoky character, but it gets barged out of the way by unwelcome bananas. Some juicy, quite concentrated red and black fruits, but it doesn’t come together as a whole, and tastes disjointed. A delinquent phase? 80 points, not great value.
NV Sainsbury’s House Côtes-du-Rhône (13.5%, £4.49)
Just about discernable redcurrant fruits, if you really try. Enough acidity and tannin, and reasonably balanced, but it fades fast, and is instantly forgettable. 80 points, poor value.
First published on www.timatkin.com.
Hermitage: Hidden Dragon
A brief introduction to the wines of Hermitage...
Some of the most eminent winemaking villages of France also turn out to be the most beautiful. Tain l’Hermitage sadly isn’t one of them. Far from ugly, but fairly unremarkable, it crouches at the bottom of an imposing hill of granite that forces a bulge in the east bank of the Rhône. It’s located in the steep valley of the northern Rhône, before the river widens on its way to Avignon.
There are two compelling reasons to visit Tain l’Hermitage. One is to visit the Valrhona chocolate factory outlet. The other is to stock up on wine. Because the terraced south-facing slopes of this sacred hill produce the finest Syrah grapes in the world.
Tain may be a little plain, but the wines from the slopes above evoke a fantasy world. The reds smell of wood smoke, autumn leaves, fireworks and crispy bacon, all swirling amongst thick black fruits. After a couple of decades, the fruit steps aside, letting the other aromas in the glass combine to smell of dragon’s breath.
There are dry whites too that are equally regal. Oily layers of apricot and peach juice flow out of the glass, widening to create an estuary of flavour. Comparatively rare, they are made of the Marsanne grape, sometimes with a little Roussanne blended in. They also have complex flavours that develop over time; hints of peach, celery and rhubarb in youth, nuts and honey with age.
For such breathtaking wines, the prices are low compared to the other great wines of France. A bottle will still set you back the price of a pair of theatre tickets. A good one will contain just as much drama for you to share. Look for wines by M. Chapoutier, Paul Jaboulet Ainé and Marc Sorrel – but particularly those made by Jean-Louis Chave. For a more affordable introduction, try The Wine Society’s ‘Exhibition’ Hermitage 2006, or Tesco Finest* Hermitage 2007, both made by reliable growers and offer great value at around half the price of the top growers.
Though in the shadow of the hill, the region of Crozes-Hermitage just beyond uses the same grape varieties to create wines in a similar style which start from under £10 per bottle. Try Alain Graillot, David Reynaud, Gilles Robin or Jean-Luc Colombo for the best – they might not transport you to Middle Earth, but can be excellent wines in their own right.
First published in Living France magazine.
Gaillac the Tortoise
Say the word ‘Gaillac’ and what does it conjure up? Not a lot. Florent Plageoles of leading estate Domaine Plageoles confirms “we have a big image problem”. It’s not that it has a poor image, it’s just it doesn’t have much of an image at all – not amongst most UK drinkers at least. But with its wealth of distinctive local varieties and unique wine styles, other winemaking regions would kill to have as much going on as Gaillac. It’s just not very good at telling people about it.
Gaillac is a sleepy corner of France located in the hills 25 miles north-east of Toulouse. It’s one of the dozen or so disparate yet distinct appellations that make up ‘South West France’ – the loosest of all the wider French regional designations, lumped together more due to proximity than kinship. It’s a pastoral region of birds, bugs, tractors and wild fruit trees. And rather curious varieties.
Though many local growers are continuing their dalliance with Hollywood names such as Cabernet Sauvignon and Sauvignon Blanc, some of the best estates are going back to their roots. Jean-Marc Balaran, owner of Domaine d’Escausses admits “once we copied Bordeaux, but the local varieties are coming back now we are more sure of ourselves”. Considering Gaillac lays claim to be being the oldest winemaking region in France, it has been slow in finding itself.
Rather than specialising in one grape or one style, Gaillac winemakers try their hand at everything: red, white, still, semi-sparkling (perlé), sparking, dry, sweet. It has a jumble of indigenous grapes to choose from. For reds, there is Duras, Braucol (a.k.a. Fer Servadou), and Prunelard; for whites, Mauzac, Ondenc and the curiously named Loin de l’Oeil – ‘far from the eye’. No wonder the region has trouble marketing itself.
If Gaillac did adopt a signature variety, it would likely be Mauzac, a grape with a distinctive apple-skin flavour. Florent at Domaine Plageoles explained that Mauzac is in fact a family of grapes like Pinot. They make a varietal Mauzac Vert (dry white), a Mauzac Roux (sweet white) and a Mauzac Noir (dry red). As versatile as Chenin Blanc from the Loire, there’s nothing it can’t do: still, sparkling, dry or sweet; not to mention two Gaillac specialities méthode gaillacoise sparkling and the wonderful sherry-like vin de voile.
Unlike Champagne, the local fizz only undergoes one fermentation, but they bottle it half way through, so retains some dissolved carbon dioxide. It is made in varying degrees of sweetness from brut to medium dry. How it tastes depends on when you drink it – the longer you leave it after bottling, the drier it gets, as the fermentation continues in bottle, gradually turning residual sugar into alcohol. Some that I tasted were forgettable, but others had fine bubbles, an intriguing character and genuine finesse.
The other local speciality, vin de voile, is something special. Like sherry or vin jaune, casks are only part filled and a film of yeast grows on top of the wine which guards it from oxidation and adds to the flavour and texture. Here, it will only grow on a base wine of Mauzac. The wine is bottled after seven years, and the result has the dried fruit, nut and oxidative elements of an amontillado sherry. Although bone dry it is lighter in body and not as intense in flavour (and lower in alcohol, since it is not fortified). The best are world-class wines of stunning complexity.
Specialities such as these however remain the exception; vin de voile for example is only produced by four estates. The region is still dominated by cooperatives pumping out cheap Gamay, Sauvignon Blanc and Cabernet Sauvignon of varied quality. But there are a handful of growers who are pushing the boundaries. Patrice Lescarret of 12-hectare biodynamic estate Causse Marines is doing his best to delve into the terroir to see what it is really capable of.
He bemoans the lack of confidence, individuality and oenological education amongst many local growers, who he sees as happy to accept the status quo rather than pushing for a more ambitious quality. But Gaillac isn’t just limited by a lack of ambition and confidence; it may also be limited by local institutions: “99% of growers use the laboratory of Gaillac and they give the same advice to all – they are the quality limit of Gaillac.” Lescarret’s wines prove that excellent and highly individual wines can be achieved with this chalky terroir, and will hopefully act as a beacon to his peers.
Though they rarely feature in those glossy coffee table tomes trumpeting the ‘very greatest wines of France’, the best of Gaillac deserves to be better known. The best quality of Gaillac may not be usefully comparable to the heights of Bordeaux, Burgundy or Rhône, but it is regions like this quiet gem that create the interest, richness and depth that makes the world of wine so endlessly fascinating. And this is just one appellation of many in the South West.
The winemakers here may not be as well rewarded for their efforts, but their work is equally valuable. If anything it is more noble to quietly dedicate your time to the ancient yet unheralded grapes of the local terroir than rely on bankers such as Cabernet or Chardonnay. Gaillac, like the tortoise in the story, will get there in the end. We may be surprised by how far it goes. It just might take a while.
Originally published on www.timatkin.com.
Champagne: the smallest stars shine the brightest
A brief introduction to the wines of Champagne...
Most of us have a favourite Champagne, the label that raises a subtle smile when spotted in the lilting hand of our host. Champagne has a special place in the hearts of the British: we imported more than 34 million bottles last year, way more than any other country. Quite right too – when at its best, Champagne is still the greatest sparkling wine in the world.
Amongst the wines of France, the Champagne region has a unique approach to making wine, born of necessity. At 90 miles northeast of Paris, it’s the most northerly winemaking region in France. When the weather is warm enough, the fruit grown on these rolling chalk hills is exceptional. But some years, it’s simply too cold or too wet. This has led to the traditional practice of blending, the mixing together of vintages, vineyards and varieties (usually Pinot Noir, Pinot Meunier and Chardonnay) in the attempt to even out quality.
It’s this blended wine which becomes the Champagne House’s ‘non-vintage blend’, their calling-card house style, and usually their best-selling wine. Most also make a ‘vintage’ wine, only made with grapes grown in one named year, and only made after a favourable harvest. Rosé Champagne is increasingly fashionable, and uniquely in this region producers are permitted to blend still red wine into their white to make it pink. Though delicious, they are rarely the best value. Then there is the ‘prestige cuvée’, normally a selection of the very best grapes from the best years then subjected to long-term ageing. This is the Champagne Houses’ ultimate licence to print money, but they can be staggeringly good. But beware if it says ‘sec’ on the label – although French for ‘dry’, the wine will be sweet.
Sometimes it’s easy to forget that, although fizzy, Champagne is a wine like any other, with thousands of small producers, many of which are creating much more exciting and better value wines than the big names. They tend to only be found in independent wine shops and top restaurants, but they are well worth trying. So although the names might be unfamiliar, why not seek out one of the best artisan producers? Autréau, Larmandier-Bernier and J.L.Vergnon are highly recommended. But if they are proving hard to find, Louis Roederer, Pol Roger, Bollinger and Charles Heidsieck are all safe bets for top quality fizz.
First published in Living France.