Hey Everyone,
Today I am writing about my most conflicted of feelings in the entire world of wine. It is the strange phenomenon of the head versus the heart and the knowledge of the former pitted against the uncompromising nature of the latter. The subject matter: Italy, the dilemma; I know it's good and that I like the styles of wine produced there, yet never will I choose a bottle of Chianti over a Rioja or Barolo over Bordeaux. I wrote a post last year about how much I like the rustic wines from appellations such as Chianti Rufina and Abruzzo, and I really enjoy a good bottle of Barbera with a bowl of pasta or a steak, but I fear that my consumption of Italian wine is somewhat forced.
A friend of mine, the proprietor of St. Andrews Wine Company is planning a dinner with a local restaurant which promises to be a truly inspiring experience with a well considered selection of wines to match each course. At first the theme for wines of the evening was said to be the Rhône Valley and I was ecstatic. I pictured a gorgeous dinner starting with duck liver pate and Condrieu or smoked fish and Chateauneuf-du-Pape blanc followed by a braised beef with a spicy Cornas or Cote-Rotie, all to be washed down with a sweet Muscat Beaumes de Venise. Thats when someone suggested Italian wines and my dreams of a Rhône dinner were dashed.
Thats because interesting Italian wines are exciting for just about everyone except me. For some reason I like Italian wines to be simple and easy, not big and complex. I don't know exactly why, because I want this from every other wine I drink; perhaps it is a realm of refuge from the overly cerebral bottles I usually encounter. When it comes to beer, though I love interesting well crafted ales, I can get tired of 7% hoppy IPAs. It may be that Italian wine fulfills the same role for me that English bitter fulfills in respect to beer. It is an escape. That said I know that top flight Italian wine is amazing stuff and whenever I taste it I am happy to have done so, but I cannot say that I would ever choose it for myself.
For instance, last night in the wine shop, Peter opened a bottle of 2008 Vino Nobile di Montepulciano. It was massive, big bright black fruits reminiscent of Napa Cabernet with the alcohol to match. It was excellent stuff, better than most of the wines I've been drinking lately, and perhaps ironically, way better than the Crozes-Hermitage (from the Rhône I love so well) I had two nights ago.
I recognised long ago that loving wine is a growing process, with twists and turns. Where one thing is your passion at the moment and the other your passing fancy, these things may change any moment. There was a time when I wouldn't have even considered buying a bottle of Bordeaux over an American Cabernet, but my tastes have changed and tasting this beautiful Vino Nobile may well have changed my thoughts on what people call 'more interesting' Italian wines.
If there is something you are prejudiced against out there in the wine world, as I admit to myself, make a concerted effort to change your opinion or at least find out exactly why you feel that way. It could be an exciting revelation!
Much Love,
G.
Showing posts with label Crozes-Hermitage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Crozes-Hermitage. Show all posts
Wednesday, 16 January 2013
Posted with Blogsy
Friday, 20 April 2012
Taste of the Place
Hey Everyone,
My favourite thing about wine is always its ability to express a region. My favourite advertising campaign, for sheer irony's sake, is Anakena saying that their wine is an expression of the people. If so, it does not bode well for the people of Chile. Fortunately, there are better wines from the narrow stretch of land between the Andes and the sea. That said, they are right that a wine should be an expression of people, but it should also be an expression of the place. Though I usually disregard the notion of "Old World/ New World" distinctions, there is one consistency which I find appealing and that is the expression of soil found in Old World wines.
This all came on me as I am trying to revisit those classic regions which I tend to neglect in my pursuit of finding new wines from interesting parts of the world. I recently had a beautiful bottle of Mercurey (Red Burgundy) which tickled my fancy as being a true classic of it's appellation. Big juicy raspberry fruits, plenty of bracing acidity and a hint of tannin all made for a complete wine which I feel truly expresses the character of this very specific region of Burgundy.
While I was in Champagne last weekend, visiting the premises of Bollinger in Ay, I was allowed to try some truly beautiful wines made to express the soil and the atmosphere around the vines. The environment which sustains and gives life to the vines should be present in the final bottle of wine and no country more so than France shows this in the glass. The house's own wines, in particular the more recent vintage, the Grande Année 2002, showed a beautiful character of chalky texture and aroma which is just so definitive of the Champagne region alongside the hints of green pepper and bright green fruit which makes young vintage champagne just so quaffable.
During the competition we were once charged with the identification of three red wines. We were provided with the context that one wine was French and the others should be identified with their appropriate regions. Upon smelling these wines, the three presented very different styles, but the first and the third wines gave themselves away. The third, clearly a jammy Australian Shiraz, told no lies. It was open with it's fruit and it's deep blueberry body. The first one, smelling of a bit of cracked black pepper and a lot of a maritime breeze jumped forward as a classic Syrah form the Northern Rhone. Though we guessed Crozes-Hermitage and it turned out to be the appellation down the road at Saint Joseph, we knew exactly why we selected France as it's country of origin.
In the Northern Rhone Valley, the most striking character of the wines, which sets them apart from 'New World' Shiraz/ Syrah is that lovely elegant aroma and texture given by the dusty, rocky soil. The effect of this so-called 'minerality is the sensation of tasting a smooth river-stone in your mouth. While that may not sound great in writing, it is genuinely a pleasing characteristic in a quality red wine. In this particular wine, it was a thing of beauty.
In the tie breaking final round, the red which was presented to us, a Chateau Palmer 1998 from Margaux in Bordeaux, leapt forward as a bottle of minerality. Though I personally thought it to be a Cabernet Franc/ Merlot blend from Saint-Emilion on the other side of the Gironde, it's stoney texture and smoothly slate-like tannins were definitely a mark made upon the wine by the soil. While this is a supremely expensive bottle of wine, you can f course get ahold of some lovely wines with the expression of the soil in the glass. Check out my earlier post on a nice affordable Crozes-Hermitage form Paul Jaboulet-Aîné. Similarly, Chablis is a good place to start for picking out the chalky wonders possible in a good Chardonnay.
Basically I love the idea of being able to experience a place in the wine. When you are unable to go to taste a wine in the region of it's production and smell all the aromas of the vineyard, the next best thing is to taste it in the glass. I hope you all get the chance to try out something unique, which celebrates it's place of origin.
Much Love,
G
My favourite thing about wine is always its ability to express a region. My favourite advertising campaign, for sheer irony's sake, is Anakena saying that their wine is an expression of the people. If so, it does not bode well for the people of Chile. Fortunately, there are better wines from the narrow stretch of land between the Andes and the sea. That said, they are right that a wine should be an expression of people, but it should also be an expression of the place. Though I usually disregard the notion of "Old World/ New World" distinctions, there is one consistency which I find appealing and that is the expression of soil found in Old World wines.
 |
| Chateau Palmer 1998 Margaux |
While I was in Champagne last weekend, visiting the premises of Bollinger in Ay, I was allowed to try some truly beautiful wines made to express the soil and the atmosphere around the vines. The environment which sustains and gives life to the vines should be present in the final bottle of wine and no country more so than France shows this in the glass. The house's own wines, in particular the more recent vintage, the Grande Année 2002, showed a beautiful character of chalky texture and aroma which is just so definitive of the Champagne region alongside the hints of green pepper and bright green fruit which makes young vintage champagne just so quaffable.
During the competition we were once charged with the identification of three red wines. We were provided with the context that one wine was French and the others should be identified with their appropriate regions. Upon smelling these wines, the three presented very different styles, but the first and the third wines gave themselves away. The third, clearly a jammy Australian Shiraz, told no lies. It was open with it's fruit and it's deep blueberry body. The first one, smelling of a bit of cracked black pepper and a lot of a maritime breeze jumped forward as a classic Syrah form the Northern Rhone. Though we guessed Crozes-Hermitage and it turned out to be the appellation down the road at Saint Joseph, we knew exactly why we selected France as it's country of origin.
 |
| St. Andrew's Tasting Team at Bollinger |
In the tie breaking final round, the red which was presented to us, a Chateau Palmer 1998 from Margaux in Bordeaux, leapt forward as a bottle of minerality. Though I personally thought it to be a Cabernet Franc/ Merlot blend from Saint-Emilion on the other side of the Gironde, it's stoney texture and smoothly slate-like tannins were definitely a mark made upon the wine by the soil. While this is a supremely expensive bottle of wine, you can f course get ahold of some lovely wines with the expression of the soil in the glass. Check out my earlier post on a nice affordable Crozes-Hermitage form Paul Jaboulet-Aîné. Similarly, Chablis is a good place to start for picking out the chalky wonders possible in a good Chardonnay.
Basically I love the idea of being able to experience a place in the wine. When you are unable to go to taste a wine in the region of it's production and smell all the aromas of the vineyard, the next best thing is to taste it in the glass. I hope you all get the chance to try out something unique, which celebrates it's place of origin.
Much Love,
G
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