Pizza and Wine

Hey Folks,

I know we always hear about the ongoing search for foods and wines to match each other and produce winning teams of balanced flavour.  We hear of the surprising matches between Chinese food and Gewürztraminer, where the floral, spicy profile in the wine matches the intense, concentrated flavours of the Chinese sauces, as well as Riesling and pad thai. but I am tonight enjoying a wonderful paring on a bit of a budget.  Pizza for £3 and a bottle of wine for £7.99.

After a long day working in the shop, slowly recovering form a sinus cold and the aches and pains of a 14-hour day traveling to and from a trade-tasting in Manchester, I was feeling rather exhausted.  I just wanted to sit down, have something simple to eat, something relaxing and simple to drink and perhaps write a note to my readers.  In the divine scheme of things, my plans seem to have worked out and here I am, with a nice, hot cheese pizza and a glass of wine which I consider nearly perfect for the occasion.

Simple, inexpensive and satisfying.

It's a Biferno 2007 Rosso Riserva  from Camillo de Lellis, and it's making me lower the bottom end of my 'Sweet Spot' from £9 to £7.  Composed of Montepulciano, Trebbiano Toscano and Aglianico, essentially whatever grapes come to hand in the Tuscan countryside, it's a part of that class of inexpensive wines which I love so much.  The fact that the wine is cheap has nothing to do with low quality.  It is because the grapes grow so naturally and easily there and require so little labour, and the vines look after themselves pretty well.

It's simple, it's rustic and it has all those aromas and flavours of sour cherries and perfume which defines good, classic Italian wines.  As I consider this wine, I think about all those wines meant to imitate the long-lived high end Bordeaux, made with international grape varieties blended with native grapes, and part of me wonders why bother?

Of course, it is natural that a wine maker would want their art to achieve the highest level possible, and to produce something long-lived, with the ability to develop complexity and become a work of art that only time can create.  However, it should never be deemed to be a superior style of wine.  The blend of grapes here shows that the origins of this Biferno are in the soil and the native grapes grown since the Etruscan era.  It harkens back to the days when a wine maker could have cared less about what the names of the grapes were that went into his blend, so long as it came out right.  It was an organic process and one that developed over centuries and perfected itself, with the human element only complimenting, never dominating.

As I sip it, and munch happily and greedily on my pizza, I reflect on my appreciation for the humility of certain wines.  As kith and kin to a farmer's brew of cider, it is perfect to pair with the simple pleasures of the Italian larder.  It makes me think of the satisfying life-style of the Italian peasants of another era sitting down in the evening hours on the hillside overlooking their fields and drinking from the wine skin.  For that reason, needing something to sit back and relax, this sort of wine does just the trick.

I highly recommend, for a truly satisfying, rehabilitating night in, find a friend, get a pizza, split a bottle of wine and just chill out.

Much Love,
G

Check out today's 'Wine to Try' for a nice Rhone From right in the Sweet Spot!  Just click above or the link below. Crozes-Hermitage 2008 Les Jalets

The Sweet Spot

In the grand scheme of things, wine is a luxury product.  Yes, there are plenty of wines at good value, some cheapies even selling for less than certain coffees at Starbucks, depending on where in the world you find yourself.  But in it's heart, the idea of modern wine is that it is a luxury and anything decent has to be too expensive.  The response; to torture ourselves with £5 bottles even though not much more money can get us something much more special.  Wine itself is produced quite cheaply, and for the bottom end of the price range, that is to say the bottles under £6, that price tag is built up with layer upon layer of tax, shipping costs, packaging and admin work. 

If you reduce it down, in fact, there is only about 30p worth of wine in that bottle of Anakena or Parrotfish.  So, even though you're paying a lot less for the bottle of wine, you're really taking the hit in a big way, paying more for all that extra cost.  For under £6 you're better off getting a couple of good beers and pay what they're actually worth.  I thought I'd do a bit of research into the various conceptions of what it means to be 'good value' and I've come up with a theory I think holds up pretty well.  It's called the Sweet Spot and it ranges from £9 up to £17, with of course a bit of flexibility.

In this day and age of pinching pennies, and denying ourselves the leisure-time activities we once enjoyed on a regular basis, like going to the movies, going out for dinner and the like, one thing that is still within reach is a decent bottle of wine.  Instead of paying for two people to go see a movie and footing the bill of popcorn, drinks etc. which can add up to nearly £30 all told, why not split a £15 bottle of a nice wine, cook dinner and make an evening of it? 

Lets look at what that £15 can get you... From the shop where I work (we have fairly standard prices across our range) that is more than enough for a nice white Burgundy, a bunch of damn good Rhone reds, great French country wines, a huge array of classic Italian bottles, and even some pretty yummy ports and pudding wines.  Split between two people, you can experience some truly delightful wines for not a whole lot of money, and use them to make a home-cooked meal all the more fun and interesting.

Lower down on the price range of the 'Sweet Spot,' you'll find some great South African Chenin Blanc like the Secateurs, and it's brother wine, the Secateurs red blend for about £9, some really saisfying Argentine Malbec or Chardonnay or even a surpisingly tasty Bulgarian Pinot Noir.  Even at this price, you're getting a vastly better value for your money.  The same amount of alcohol tax comes off an expensive bottle as it does for a cheap one, so a higher proportion of the price is actually for the liquid in the bottle.

Say you're planning a dinner party or may be going out for dinner and want to take a bottle along and want it to be something a bit special.  Lets say upwards of £17 for something great.  Easy!  You can get some beautiful Rioja like Vina Cubillo, really classic french wines like Bergerac and a few tasty, fun California Zinfandels.  Split that cost between a couple of peoplewho are already splitting the cost of the food and you have an essential ingredient for your meal, and one that can enhance the food like nothing else.

What I'm trying to get at is, you can splash out beyond the standard five pound bottles and realise that, in truth, the quality and pleasure gained from the wine goes up exponentially.  There is nothing quite so lovely as a great bottle of wine that was worth every penny you paid for it.  In this day and age, we can't afford to pay for something cheap and not get our money's worth.  The same goes for lousy wine.  Sure there are nice wines below the 'Sweet Spot,' but in terms of consistency, there's something to be said for this narrow price-band.

So go halfs with a friend and treat yourselves to something nice!

Much Love,
G

Here are a few recommendations for some really great value wines, though this is just a short list...
Around £9- Secateurs Red and White, Paul Jaboulet-Aine Parallel 45 Cotes du Rhone, Punto Final Malbec, Masi Corbec, Fatoria Lavacchio Chianti Rufina, and Cousino-Macul Antiguas Reservas Cabernet Sauvignon, Tramontane Macabeu

Up to £15 (mind this price band contains a huge array of great wines so this is just a small selection)- Paul Jaboulet-Aine Crozes-Hermitage, Thelema Shiraz, O. Leflaive Les Setilles Chardonnay,Velvet Devil Merlot, Kung-Fu Girl Riesling, Dry Creek Zinfandel, Filles de Mai Macabeu and the Wild Boar Syrah. 

Also check out the Niepoort Tawny Dee.  A tawny port for about £14.  Great stuff.

Up to £17- Thelema Merlot, Pascual Toso Malbec Reserva, Chateau Thenac Bergerac Blanc, Ecole No. 41 Semillon, Vajra Dolcetto d'Alba, Badenhorst 'Wine', Lustau PX Sherry and the lovely Camins del Priorat.

South Africa- Old Soul, New World

Poised at the southern tip of the great African continent, South Africa is a land of breathtaking natural beauty and stunning possibilities for wine making.  It produces some of the best value wines on the market, and in some cases, it offers glimpses of what fine wine is like for a relatively light price tag.  In the (in my opinion) antiquated vocabulary of the wine world, South Africa is 'New World', meaning essentially anything outside a poorly defined area of the Eurasian supercontinent, but in it's heart, it is an old soul to be sure.

I qualify this of course, by mentioning the fact that South Africa is particularly prolific in the realms of producing big, jammy Shiraz, much-maligned Pinotage and plenty of other distinctively 'New World' wines.  But I believe that there is so much more to this dynamic region, capable of displaying excellent, classic examples of any given grape's potential.

I'll give a few examples of wines I believe show the old world soul of South Africa as a wine-producing country.  Thelema Mountain Vineyards, for instance, produces a line of marvelous wines in the most traditional of veins.  Thelema's Cabernet Sauvignon, though only 6 years old, is already showcasing what an elegantly aged Cabernet should be.  It is full of dark cherries, a hint of the fruit once prevalent, but the nose is now dominated by saddle leather and farm soil, with notes of mint and a minerality; characteristic of old-school Cabernet from Bordeaux or Bergerac.  The Merlot is like a wonderfully aged Pomerol, with big dark chocolate, velvety, grippy tannins and the gaminess lacking in Merlot from many other new world countries.

Very few producers are as committed to traditional style wines as Anthony Hamilton Russell.  In blind tastings, many thought his Chardonnay was an Olivier Leflaive white Burgundy.  His Pinot Noir is fragrantly floral as a red Burgundy should be.

But the best example, for me, is the affinity South African producers show for the varieties of the Rhône Valley.  In some ways, the shortcomings of many producers in the southern Rhône, in particular Châteauneuf-du-Pape, is highlighted by the successes of beautifully structured, well-balanced blends based on the Southern Rhône's holy trinity of Shiraz, Grenache and Mourvèdre.  Maintaining the Châteauneuf tradition of adding anything to the blend which might help, Malagas producer Sijnn (pron. 'sane') has crafted a red which shows a very modern vision for a very Old World wine.  Blending Shiraz and Mourvèdre, with the surprising appearance of Portuguese grapes in the form of Touriga Nacional, Trincadeira and a seasoning dash of Cabernet Sauvignon.  The end result; a beautiful classic which, in my opinion shows us what Châteauneuf should be!

Beyond that, producers of fine wines in South Africa are confident in their abilities and they clearly show a great level of innovation as they pursue the best expressions of their wines, whether its a Rhône blend, a Cabernet or even the inspiring Vin de Constance.  They are classics, and while the term New World applies for reasons of convenience and pure tradition, in practicality, the best of South Africa is old at heart.

"But George," you might say, "hasn't California also been trying to make old-world style wines for ages as well, but still they're New World?"  Well the answer is most certainly yes.  Perhaps what I'm going for is that a notion of Old and New Worlds from the age of Ferdinand and Isabella may be out of date.  Even France produces wine which a blind taster would think to be New World, and in a way, it is.  It is a style more than anything else.  South Africa as a wine-producing country deserves a bit more credit for it's classic styles of wine, and I hope you will agree with me, that if South African Wine were a person, it would certainly be an old soul.

Much Love,
G

Spain- First Impressions

Try and remember when wine became special to you. Where were you. Who was there? Are those people still special to you? Are they still in your life? Can you remember your first experience with wine? By that I mean beyond the first time you had someone older get a box of cheap stuff for you and your friends to get drunk when you were young. I mean that first time you came to the realisation that wine was important and that you truly enjoyed it for its many qualities.

Sunrise over the vineyards in la Rioja

For me it was when I was still quite young, aged 17 and on a school trip in Spain. Before then, I never really liked the wine my parents offered to me from the comforts of home and in all honesty never really took to any alcoholic beverage in any real way. Those were the days when wine was sour, beer was bitter and whisky was petrol. This taught me that context is everything when it comes to acquiring tastes.

For a young language student heavily intent upon gaining all he can from that journey into a new part of the world, such a context is an irresistible experience. It's hardly surprising that the wine is more engaging, and therefore more enticing when it is part of something greater, something bigger. In Spain, the romance of wine and food was evident at all times; from sherry country in Andalucia to the countless family vineyards of Catalunya, the beauty of Spain's countryside is often intrinsically linked to the beauty of it's wine regions.

Wine goes with everything in Spain to the point that it seems as inherently a part of the Spanish identity as music, religion, food and folklore. Every part of every day can be accompanied by the appropriate wines. I can't imagine anything better than a lunch of fresh Galician seafood with a nice fresh white from Rias Baixas, a lazy afternoon with a chilly glass of fino and a beautiful rich lamb with a rich, spicy Rioja.

El Alhambra, the stunning fortress of Granada.

What better way to spend the evening, amongst friends listening to live music in a Granada cafe with a big carafe of whatever the house is serving? I can think of nothing better than to while away the day thusly.  As a 17-year-old high school kid, I was lucky to have experienced this so young.

To this day I still seek out the perfect example of Spanish wine to remind me of those fondly recalled days of youth. Priorat, Rioja and Ribera del Duero harken back to those days and remind me of the bustle of Madrid, the music of Granada, the flavours of Sevilla and the aromas of Valencia. All reminding me of the first joys I took in wine.

For me those two weeks of adventure in Spain will never be forgotten and the country has always held a special place in my heart as will the friends I shared at experience with. I hope you all have an equally positive memory of your first enchantment with wine.

Mucho amor,
G

Italy- Great Traditions

The Greeks referred to Italy as 'Oinotria,' or the Land of Wines, owing to the plant's uncanny ability to thrive, and it is for this very reason it continues to be such a wonderful producer of wines.  It is sometimes surprising to me that so many wine-makers look to Bordeaux when their arsenal of wine is so wonderfully unique and so distinctly Italian.

My friends know me already as a huge fan of Italian wines; I have come to love the stuff since my earlier wine-drinking days.  When I first got into the world of wines in more than a casual sense, I generally allowed my views of Italian wine to be coloured in a negative way without much reason. My parents were huge fans of Chianti Classico, and still are, but before I acquired the taste for wine, I always associated Chianti with the general flavours my young palate refused. As I began to enjoy wine, Italian wines were left behind. It took some time, but eventually I came to appreciate the delights of Italy's wines.

Italy is a case in point that great wine need not bear a high price tag.  Some of my favourites; those which drew me in to love Italian wine, are not dear in price, though their style is dear to the country from whence they come.

Of course, Italy is the worlds most prolific wine producer in terms of pure volume. It is also a producer of some of the finest wines, with names like Sassicaia, Flaccianello and Argiano. Beyond these prohibitively expensive wines, the is also an astonishing array of wines from the humblest denominations right on up. Having tried the delights of Italy's repetoire, I can say that, for me, the very best this country has to offer are those wines still in keeping with the heart and soul of the people, the land and the history.

I love the style native to the Italian wine making industry for one reason above all; it's rusticity.  Wine-making, after-all wasn't originally an industry, it was mere agriculture.  The product of a farmer's labours, no more refined than the production of edible grain, and just as much a staple of daily life.  In the heart of wine denominations, such as Chianti Rufina, Rosso di Montalcino and many others, the Sangiovese grape produces beautious wines, as chalky as the land, fragrant and noble, without the pretensions finery.  Barbera d'Asti and Dolcetto d'Alba maintain the spirit of the Italian wine heritage with their notes of sour cherry and supreme simplicity and pleasance.

But there is also greatness to be achieved in the embrace of ones own noble traditions.  Without a one of the nation's great achievements in wine-making, and rightfully one of the most protected, is Amarone; a wine made by time honoured practices.  None can imitate this beauteous rendition of the fermented grape, and it is rightfully respected as a great wine.  Beyond even the near-hedonistic delights of Amarone, there is Barolo.  Almost as if it were Italy's response to Burgundy, here the native Nebbiolo grape produces wines capable to withstanding the test of time; delicate aromas, delicate fruitiness and a surprising grip make them the standard bearers of a great world of wine, unique to Italy.

So therefore, in consistency with my philosophy that wine should be a reflection of the people and the passion which surrounds the humble farms of its origins, I applaud those Italian makers who are true to their traditions and are passionate about the simple, rustic and lively expressions of the vine.

I hope you all find some time this week to relax, enjoy the world around you, and perhaps savour a nice Chianti or Barbera.

Much love,
G.

King of Wines, Wine of Kings- Tokaji

If you would like to read about the individual wines tasted on this trip, there will be posts in the future, but this one is intended to stand apart.

I recently returned from an all too brief and eye-opening trip with friends to Hungary. Naturally, when the name of this landlocked, ex-Soviet bloc republic, is mentioned on a wine blog, the thought which come to mind is the world renowned Tokaji. Beautifully sweet, full bodied, handsomely oaked, and bearing a lifespan of over half a century, it makes a strong case to earn it's moniker, the 'King of Wines, Wine of Kings.'

I love Tokaji. Short and sweet, to say, I absolutely love it. For more than just it's obvious qualities of flavour, balance and elegant poise, it is my favourite wine. Not that I would drink it more than any other in particular, but for its hidden qualities of nobility, significance and it's role as ambassador of Hungary to the world of wine and beyond.

Fetching kingly prices to match the nickname, bottles of any vintage can rival the finest of Sauternes or eiswein, but in this country of troubled history, recently shed of the shadow of communism, what greater meaning is attached to the nectar of the Magyar?

Historically, wines from the Tokaj region, both dry and sweet are legendary. The name is evoked in story and song, from the national anthem of Hungary to the novels of Antoine Saint-Exupery and has gained a reputation far exceeding its own distribution.

During my trip I discovered much about Tokaji, most of all it's inherent place in the heart of the Magyar nation. Everyone, from upscale wine-shop employees to taxi drivers and bar patrons has a well formed opinion upon which Tokaji is the best, which estates, the merits of the 'puttonyos' system and where one can best experience the wonders of this deep amber nectar.

Whilst in Hungary, obviously I gained a feel for the cultural appeal of this famed wine and it's place in the world of wine, but what I did not get a feel for was the heartbeat of the city. I expected Budapest to remind me of Prague and until I banished this misinformed idea from my head, I could not appreciate this noble city. Still, there was a certain difficulty in Budapest when it came to experiencing something as simple as traditional Hungarian cuisine. Sure there was goulash soup left, right and centre, but beyond that, very little about Budapest struck me as proudly, and unapologetically Hungarian. I can tell it is there, though, just beneath the surface.

Perhaps that is the result of decades of foreign rule and political oppression, and the idea of western freedom has taken hold, with that coming the Italian restaurants, chains and high street chic. Prague, a city of similar history, is more obvious with it's cultural history and more eager to share Czech food, Czech beer and Czech music. Perhaps Hungary isn't yet comfortable enough with its own history or not yet bold enough to put it forward as the Budapest experience without the chintzy pseudo-mediterranean facade. When it does though, I believe it will be a glorious revival of a magnificent tradition.

Therefore it may be that Tokaji is the great window into the potential of the Hungarian people to take pride in what is theirs. They love Tokaji and they know everyone else does as well. It is possibly the one thing they have that they know the rest of the world wishes they had access to as intimately as they do. It is truly a divine nectar and if it is capable of showing me, in three short days, the pride the Hungarian people take in their nation, as no monument, travel guide or walking tour did, then it is truly, and unabashedly the King of Wines.

I leave with these words;

Tokaj szőlővesszein
Nektárt csepegtettél.

G.