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.
Eleven Shades of Nebbiolo
To begin with I didn’t get it. Drinking Nebbiolo seemed like trying to swallow a cube, cut from a tree. It was hard, it was sharp, it was dry; and sometimes it tasted of wood. But the more I persevered I realised it was more like a beautiful but sadistic lover. It can be a rough ride, but still enjoyable; and sometimes it tastes of leather. Chiara Boschis, owner of the excellent Barolo estate E. Pira puts it slightly differently: Nebbiolo is “a beautiful woman who is always pissed off at something”. Don’t worry, the opportunistic bondage references end here: the ‘eleven shades’ refer to the wines I tasted: the differences between them were striking.
Pick up any wine book that touches on Nebbiolo and you’ll read the same thing: it doesn’t travel outside of its tiny home region of Piemonte in north west Italy. Even the grape’s name refers to the local weather conditions of this misty bowl of tumbling hills – nebbia means fog. So I’ve always avoided Nebbiolos from other countries. But what if I was missing out? What does happen if you grow it elsewhere? I pulled together nine examples from outside Italy (and a couple of ringers from Piemonte) for a blind tasting to test this received wisdom. The full results are below.
In Piemonte winemakers agree that Nebbiolo is the trickiest local variety to manage and very fussy about the soil it’s grown in. It’s the first variety to bud (so susceptible to frost), the last to ripen (second half of October usually) and needs a long, hot growing season. The grape is native to this region, and its potential quality has been documented since 1303; in statute books of 1431 it’s noted that cutting down a Nebbiolo vine was punishable by heavy fines, amputation or death. So they’ve had a while to get used to it.
Elsewhere, people are just getting used to its fickle ways. Winemaker Luke Lambert from Heathcote confirms it is “very site specific and [has] such a long growing season that it is the most difficult of all varieties to grow I'm sure. In the winery the options for style are endless… but you can’t take your eye off it!” Lawrence Camp from Breaux Vineyards in Virginia agrees: out of 18 varieties produced “we find Nebbiolo to be the most difficult grape we grow”. Other Australian producers Trentham and Thorn Clark both echo this, but for First Drop’s Matt Gant “it’s not so much that it’s a difficult variety to grow, more that site selection is vital.”
So if it is so difficult to produce, why bother? Their reasons are as variable as the wines themselves; a point of difference; a tribute to Italian ancestors; an experiment; having being inspired by a great Barolo; and for Luke Lambert is was an attempt to make a more food friendly style of wine: “I'd grown up with lots of Australian wine that lacked drinkability and food compatibility, and Nebbiolo was a revelation. It was built for food but had such elegance and finesse it was a very different style of wine to what Australia was producing.”
The sheer variety of the wines tasted points towards this being a very malleable variety, and one that needs a delicate touch. Any or all of the elements in the wines seem quite happy to shoot off the scale at any opportunity: acidity, alcohol – and tannin in particular. Vinifying Nebbiolo must be like driving a car on ice. Also, like Pinot Noir, it can lose freshness and resort to jamminess in hotter climates. I asked winemaker Matteo Ascheri from Piemonte whether regions outside of his could ever create a Nebbiolo in the style of a fine Barolo: “no way” he replied.
Few of the wines I tasted had the restrained power of Barolo, but as vines age and new sites are planted, this could change. What I love about Nebbiolo is that funereal mix of flowers and earth. When it’s on song, there’s something almost supernatural about it: it smells like a ghost, like a memory. Only one or two of the international Nebbiolos I tasted hinted at this, though to be fair it is something that comes with age, and the wines I tasted were young.
Very good Nebbiolos are being made in Australia, South Africa, Virginia and even Mexico. The best in the line up I tasted was from Roero; in joint second place came wines from Barolo, Virginia and Heathcote. These international versions largely aren’t trying to directly replicate Barolo, so shouldn’t be compared to them but judged on their own merits. You wouldn’t judge a Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc against a Sancerre after all – they are different styles of wines, each with their own qualities and characteristics.
As plantings increase in cooler regions like Adelaide Hills and the Yarra Valley in Australia and Loudoun in Virginia soon there will be even more to explore. Matt Gant from First Drop: “Having just judged the Australian Alternative Varieties Wine Show again in Mildura, I can say that the Nebbiolo class was the most exciting of the show - in terms of progress since I last judged it… and number of entries (22). And the trophy for Best Wine of Show – 2008 SC Pannell Adelaide Hills Nebbiolo.”
On the basis of what I tasted, Nebbiolo does indeed seem reluctant to fly the nest, but it doesn’t mean that examples from elsewhere should be discounted by any means. Its more pressing problem is being compared to its illustrious but overbearing parents back home.
The wines, tasted blind
2006Negro Sudisfá Riserva, Roero, Italy (14%, £29.95, Cambridge Wine Merchants)
Dark ruby/mahogany. Intense nose – tar, rose, black cherry. Mocha and dried herbs. Full-bodied. Intense, mouthfilling and coating tannins. Dry, long. Intense, but fragrant too. Big chunky structure, but with fruit and aromatics all in balance. Long and seriously good. Great balance and well-managed tannins. 94 points, good value.
2005 Breaux Nebbiolo, Virginia, USA (13.8%, £29.99, The Oxford Wine Company)
Pale brick red, clearly very mature. Leather, smoke, dried herbs, cranberry and a touch balsamic. Spicy too (white pepper). Mature and complex. High acidity, medium tannins still, but they build on tasting – as does the acidity. Medium length, the fruit does drop away a bit sooner than you’d like perhaps. But good. Dry, savoury and complex, but surprisingly mature and developed. 92 points, fair value.
2007 Fontanafredda ‘Vigna La Rosa’, Barolo, Italy (14%. £47.23, Excel Wines)
Deep ruby/mahogany. New oak and sweet plum/cherry fruit – young still. Tarry nose. Full-bodied; lots of ripe fruit enveloped in big ripe tannins. Finishes long and dry but not drying. Balanced, nicely done. 92 points, just about fair value.
2010 Luke Lambert Nebbiolo, Heathcote, Australia (13.5%, £40.49, Caves de Pyrene)
Transparent mahogany colour: looks quite mature. Dried flowers, bitter chocolate, toffee on the nose, and some dried red fruits (cranberry). Full-bodied, dried fruits again on the palate but not without some sweetness to the fruit. Dry tannins. Quite traditional, old world style but feels a little too plush to be from Italy. Long fruity finish, well-balanced, well made. Satisfying and savoury. Good. 92 points, not great value.
2009 Thorn Clarke ‘Morello’ Nebbiolo, Barossa, Australia (13%, £12.75, Cooden Cellars)
Dark ruby. Strawberry jam, green herbs (mint) and a hint of spice. Full-bodied. Ripe tannin. Lots of intense expressive fruit. Tannic finish, but in a good way. This needs a bit more time. Quite friendly for a young Nebbiolo. Well balanced. Delicious fruit, and long. Not hugely Neb, but a good wine in its own right. 90 points, good value.
2009 Steenberg Nebbiolo, Constantia, South Africa (14.5%, £28.67, Armit Wines)
Dark, medium depth of colour. Attractive fruity nose (black cherry) with a touch of toasty oak. Quite oaky, sweet fruit. Tannins really build on the finish (quite drying without food). Acidity is quite pointed too. Not that complex, but savoury, enjoyable and identifiable as Nebbiolo. 90 points, just about fair value.
2009 Trentham La Famiglia Nebbiolo, New South Wales, Australia (13%, £10.79, SH Jones)
Mid ruby. High toned, enticing spicy nose. Expressive, aromatic and smoky. Star anise and clove. This has some complexity. Medium to full-bodied, quite mature, autumn leaves and sweet plummy fruit – bit too sweet perhaps. Lovely mouthfeel, tannins surprisingly low for a Nebbiolo. Good acidity though, and nicely balanced. Very expressive, lots to enjoy. 89 points, good value.
2010 First Drop ‘The Big Blind’ Nebbiolo Barbera, Adelaide Hills, Australia (14%, £20.99, Hennings Wine Merchants)
Medium ruby. Fair whack of oak on the nose, smells quite high-toned and a bit smoky. Fruit opens up after time. Flavours like old wood, dried black fruits. Full bodied and intense. Lots of extraction of fruit and tannin. Long. Certainly interesting, some complexity, but showing some unusual aromas for Nebbiolo. The more I taste it the more I like it. 89 points, fair value.
2006 L.A. Cetto Nebbiolo Private Reserve, Baja California, Mexico (14%, £12.95, Albion Wine Shippers)
Dark, opaque black/purple. Sweet black cherry fruit, touch of lemon and that slightly smoky Nebbiolo tang some equate to hot tar. Takes a while to open up. Full-bodied, lots of ripe tannin. Grippy on the finish, a touch grainy, and a little bit boozy. Long, intense cherry fruit and a bit oaky. Good, if a bit ungainly. Warmer climate? Lacks a bit of that Nebbiolo perfume. 88 points, good value.
2008 Barboursville Nebbiolo Reserve, Virginia, USA (13.5%, £24.06, Christopher Piper Wines)
Transparent mahogany, clearly has a few years behind it. Lot of new oak – a bit shoe polish/varnishy. Sweet ripe fruit and very full-bodied. Alcohol is kept in check, but big drying tannins on the finish. Not terribly resolved, a bit disjointed at present. 86 points, poor value.
2006 Viña Alicia Nebbiolo Lujan de Cuyo, Mendoza, Argentina (15%, £44.00, Ruta 40)
Opaque black/purple. Sweaty/meaty nose. Full-bodied, ripe fruit, explosively flavoursome. Shedloads of ripe tannin. High alcohol – a bit aggressive in fact, and not obviously Nebbiolo. All just too much, a might be hard to get through more than a glass of this. 85 points, poor value.
First published on www.timatkin.com.
Thinking outside the shop
Some interesting things have been happening to the wine shop over the past few years. Evolutionary pressures appear to have pushed it into unexpected territory. Ten years ago, it wasn’t uncommon to buy your wine in a shop served by a 50-something-year-old man wearing at least one of the following: a bow tie, a freshly ironed apron and a faint air of disdain. Sure, such relics are still to be found dotted around the UK, but there are some new places applying creative, modern approaches and plotting an exciting new course.
With the unlimited range and transparent pricing of the internet on one side and the convenience and low prices of the supermarkets on the other, the high street wine shop has found itself in an increasingly untenable position. Travelling to your local store, choosing from their limited selection then bringing the heavy bottles home yourself has become understandably less appealing. Punishing rent and rates on premises have made things even tougher.
The big wine shop chains were the first to fall, their rotting carcasses still strewn around city centres to this day; Unwins in 2005, Threshers in 2009, and the previous incarnation of Oddbins in 2011. Many independent wine shops that weren’t able to adapt have also quietly closed their doors. Those still attracting customers have had to get creative, and provide something that neither the supermarkets nor the internet can offer – a pleasurable experience that is more about enjoying wine than simply purchasing it.
The New Street Wine Shop, which opened this September, is in the heart of the financial district of the City of London. It pretty much defines the modern wine shop: they don’t just sell wine, they also offer small plates of food, wine by the glass and by the bottle (£8 corkage), tutored winemaker tastings and plenty of wines available to taste.
Though in many ways this is a bar as well as a retail outlet, Shop Manager Claudio Martins maintains that they are first and foremost a shop, and the sampling, eating and drinking sides of what they offer are merely “compliments”. Nonetheless, they are vital parts of the shop’s overall offering, without which, Martins says, wine shops “are not going to be a big success nowadays – in London or anywhere else.”
The New Street Wine Shop is owned by restaurant group D&D and they have spared no expense in gearing the shop towards the local market of wealthy city workers. The tasting machines are state-of-the-art Enomatics; the staff are trained sommeliers; they have invested in first-class interior design and sympathetic lighting. A “nice and relaxed atmosphere”, says Martins, is an integral part of what they offer.
This top-end spec isn’t always necessary. Not far from the shiny high rise office blocks of the City is 259 Hackney Road, a small wine shop nestled amongst the nightclubs, graffitied estates and fried chicken joints of this East London neighbourhood. It’s a simple space with stripped floorboards and room for a dozen people. A table and a few shelves display their range of 50 or so bottles, a blend of conventional and natural French wines featuring some excellent producers you rarely see elsewhere such as Marcel Juge from the Rhône and Jacques Puffeney from Arbois. Most of it is shipped direct by young owners Florian Tonello and Milena Bucholz.
They have built up a following of regulars who you’d be more likely to meet at one of Hackney’s nightspots than in a traditional wine shop. “We encourage people to follow us on various social media” says Bucholz, “as we don’t do a lot of formal tastings… if we open a bottle we will tweet it or advertise it on Facebook and ask for people to come and try.” Though there are no chairs or tables, you can open a bottle and drink it perched against the bar at no extra charge. They also offer plates of ham or cheese and a single decent Gamay by the glass for £3.50.
Once a month they put on a music night in the basement. “Our jazz nights are simple” says Bucholz, “people can buy a glass or a bottle of wine, take a seat and at 9pm the lights go off and the record goes on. We play one record at a time from start to finish, in the dark, on an audiophile sound system. Pretty much like going to the cinema... It's about paying respect to the music.”
Over in South London, Market Row Wines has a similarly lo-fi feel. Situated in culturally-mixed Brixton, a long-time desert in terms of wine shops, this small shop was opened by ex-Oddbins worker David Simpson in May. Housed in the heart of Brixton Market, the foodie warren of independent shops, cafes and stalls, he doesn’t need to sell food from the shop. Instead he sets out a few chairs and tables (with seats made of old copies of the Wine Advocate magazine), where you can bring your own food from neighbouring shops. He doesn’t charge a fee (forkage??) but he does charge £5 corkage on any bottle, alongside a few wines by the glass at £3.50 each (Thursday to Saturday only at present).
His small, changing list concentrates on wines that local people can afford (most are priced between £8 and £12 per bottle) and the shop (that he fitted himself) has a very relaxed, informal feel about it. There’s always something open to taste and Simpson describes himself in very modest terms as “a local service provider”.
Quality wines, fair prices and good service have always been the key criteria underpinning the success of any wine shop, but these new shops all understand that this is no longer enough. They also have to offer a more complete wine experience, and one that is relevant to their local community, whether they be lovers of luxury, music or food. Martins from New Street points out that nowadays “people want to taste something straightaway”, something that 259 Hackney Road and Market Row have also picked up on.
All three offer a comfortable setting and relevant context for local people that make wine accessible, easy to explore and enjoy. Casual drinkers can take their time browsing, sampling and shopping under their own steam; wine lovers can discuss new discoveries with the owners over a glass or two. Wine shops were once rather forbidding places where you browsed, bought and left under the glare of the expert owner, uncomfortable for those without in-depth knowledge. But these new shops are different; you no longer need huge knowledge or deep pockets to enjoy a visit and you can taste the wine from the moment you step through the door. The high street is getting exciting again. It will be fascinating to see the direction of future shops, and what new wine experiences they will create to draw us in.
First published on www.timatkin.com.
Alsace: snow whites
Alsace has a split personality. Tucked behind the Vosges mountains in north eastern France, this region has been fought over with bordering Germany for centuries. It now feels like somewhere between the two. Pastel coloured timber frame buildings line the streets, giving villages a slightly surreal fairytale air. The local Alsatian dialect has more in common with Swiss German than French, and the cuisine features lots of pork and choucroute (sauerkraut).
They even grow grape varieties that are more frequently associated with Germany: this is the only region in France where you’ll find the aromatic Riesling, one of the greatest of all white grape varieties. This is one of the easiest wine areas in France to understand as producers almost always state the grape variety used on the label, so you have a better idea of what flavours to expect. They also make some silky Pinot Gris, rose-scented Gewurztraminer, and grapey Muscat. Although the majority of production is white, they do make some red Pinot Noir, but it rarely gets the pulse racing. The whites however are some of the finest in the world.
Most of the wines, including the Rieslings and Muscats, are dry, and work well with food, particularly local pork, poultry and fish dishes; they also pair brilliantly with spicy Asian cuisine. Alsace, like many areas of France, has designated certain vineyards to be of exceptional quality, and these display the familiar term ‘grand cru’ on the label. At this level, some of the wines start taking on a touch of sweetness. Conscientious producers will point out any level of sweetness on the label, but don’t be afraid to ask – if it isn’t explicitly stated on the label, there is no other way of telling. But don’t let this put you off – a hint of sweetness can add charm in the right hands.
Trimbach, based in the beautiful village of Ribeauvillé is a reliable producer, whose wines are easy to find, and at the cheaper end make a good introduction to the classic styles. If you can, pay a visit to Domaine Weinbach in Kaysersberg; it was once a monastery, but is now privately owned, and managed by the glamorous Colette Faller. Some of the greatest wines are made by biodynamic producers Marcel Deiss and Domaine Zind Humbrecht. And with one of the best Christmas shops in France open all year round in Riquewihr, now is the perfect time to visit.
First published in Living France magazine.