Art Series Wines

Hey everyone,

Today I'm writing for the first time in a while, and I've had a couple of interesting bottles over the past weeks. Looking back I found that I had accumulated a streak of wines which I believe can be best considered "Art Series" wines. These all have stand out labels but the wines inside are less consistent. Just to show off, I'll chuck in a note on another artist label wine I had at Christmas time. So I ask, "what does the Artist Label lend to the overall experience of a wine?"

Grover Cabernet/ Shiraz Art Series - Though I've tried this wine before, I recently revisited just to refresh my memory, and to (slightly ironically) match a nice juicy steak. This is an Australian style blend, which I usually avoid as being a bit too predictable and boring, but when you read a label stating "Wine of India" the interest is bound to be piqued.

When I first tried this wine a year and a half ago at a trade tasting in London, I felt that I had for the first time recognised the character of a place translated into the bottle. The nose evoked many of my preconceived notions of this massive country, and in particular the northern region of the Nandi Hills. It was warm and spicy with plenty of dusty, wooly aromas. It's a fragrant wine with a cedar woodiness reminding me a bit of incense. Possibly Nag Champa but maybe that's in my nose because I want it to be.

All in all, it's a damn good wine for a country relatively new to modern winemaking. More than that, it's a good wine all together. Especially for the light price tag it carries. One thing that pleases me greatly reading back on this tasting note, is that I haven't mentioned the label, which is a rather nice piece but one that only adds to the bottle. The wine justifies itself, and the label is secondary. Looking for something to surprise you a bit? Check out this tasty Indian bottle for just about a tenner.

The next few wines I tried were more shocking than surprising. Another "art" series of wines from southern France, by Christian Audigier sported some of the most garish, patronising labels I have ever seen in wine. I can appreciate the label for Grover, because it's well done, it's the kind of art you could feasibly see hanging on a wall rather than just on a bottle.

Do  drinkers need such incredible phaff to sell them on a bottle?

If the wines were anything special, I'd be willing to forgive the bottle-covering plastic coats with which they had been plastered. Conversely, if they didn't have these ridiculous eye catchers, and cost a bit less, they'd be perfectly acceptable wines. The Sauvignon Blanc was generally poor, the Cabernet was alright and the Syrah was okay, but as a whole, they weren't good enough to support the silly advertising campaign they were obviously attempting. At the price tag they demand, they do not justify the ridiculosity of their branding.

Some wines that go for a stand out shelf appearance are tough to get behind. Dinastia Vivanco Rioja is a good example of a patronising bottle shape that is saved by the fact that actual wine in the bloody thing is a decent, friendly and affordable Rioja. The Audigier collection, however is not. Though it would sell from our shelves based purely on the eye catching factor, it would fail to attract a repeat customer because they would realise that it is in fact a bad wine. In short, it is a dishonest way to sell your product.

The next artist label wine I tried is the Leeuwin Estate Riesling. I'm a big fan of Leeuwin estate and I am a bigger fan of riesling so it may come as no great shock when I say that I liked this wine and I like the branding. Though it is an art series label, the piece on the label is very subtle and understated. It may well be a winery's standard branding device for its simplicity. That said it adds a nice bit of uniqueness to the vintage.

The wine itself was a tasty, engaging example of an Australian Riesling. I believe that with its bright pear aromas and rubbery, viscous texture, I would happily say that it is worth the considerable but relatively modest £17 asking price. This is a classy version of the art series concept. Make a good wine. Then make an attractive labeling scheme. The other way around is like coming up with a music video before the song is written. Leeuwin did it the right way around.

The last wine I'll mention here won't take up many words, mostly because it was too special an occasion for me take notes and I can only remember the basics as well as how I felt. Still grippy despite thirty years ageing, this was the original art series wine, with some vintages sporting labels from some of history's most famous artists. Warhol, Picasso, Dali and Miro to name but a few of the most illustrious names, as well as a surprisingly nice label by Prince Charles. The wine was fantastic, so much character and truly satisfying making for one of the best wines I've ever had. The wine stands alongside the art and the two are fitting for each other. A great artist doing the label for a great wine. In this case, as the king of the art series, Chateau Mouton Rothschild reigns supreme.

Much love,

G

Some Interesting Spanish Treasures

Hey Everybody,

I apologise for the long gap spanning between the last two posts; a fortnight in the world of blogging is kind of an eternity, I know.  I thought I'd fill you in on what I've been doing, aside from spending large parts of this weekend immensely humbled by a smacking from the dueling glove of inconvenient illness.  Having now triumphed I can reflect on the past week of wonder.  In my last post I was remarking on the unbearable generosity of Champagne Bollinger in their thorough hospitality during our visit to Paris and Ay.  Today I must say the same for a champagne house to which I have long been beholden.

Pol Roger, of Epernay is a producer of Champagne which taught me for the first time that I actually enjoyed fizzy wine.  Without the sex-appeal of Bollinger (being of course the fizz of James Bond), Pol often slips comparatively under the radar, yet, it is truly a great champagne.  I am definitely looking forward to the 2002 with massive anticipation!  So before I get on with this post, I must give a hearty thanks to Pol Roger for their hospitality and their encouragement over the years in the competition they've hosted.  They are the company which has stoked my passion for wine, and the reason I have devoted much time over the past year along with my colleagues on the tasting team.  The end result was a well-earned victory against our friends (and usual victors) at Edinburgh.  Thank you Pol!

Now, onto my topic of the day.  I am often banging on about my passion for the wines of the south of France and from the lesser-known regions of places like Bergerac, Jura and the Languedoc-Rousillon.  I believe that they offer the drinker an affordable, unrestrained and classic example of French wine that is delightfully unaware of itself, and is just simply good wine to drink.  I thought to myself this past week, if this principle applies to France, with Bordeaux and Burgundy being the prohibitively expensive regions for wine, why then could it not apply to other countries?  The most famous wine-producing regions in countries like Australia and South Africa (I.E. Barossa and Stellenbosch) produce not only the finest examples of their nations wine, but also the cheapest bin-enders.  What I am looking for is a European equivalent... A country with a famous heartland, or two, and a patchwork of under-appreciated regional gems.

I found it in Spain.  With a region bearing so sonorous a name as Rioja, inseparable as it is from wine, many drinkers barely think of Spanish wine as being anything but Rioja.  Granted, there are emerging regions and wines from Catalunya and Galicia are being recognised for their own unique qualities, but there are so many small regions to look to for interesting, exciting wines.  

Jumilla, with it's old fashioned approach to the grape Monastrell (pron. monastrey) produces a deep inky black and tannic expression which is somewhat reminiscent of Bandol in Provence.  True enough, in this country of misleading grape synonyms, Monastrell and Mourvedre, of Bandol fame is one and the same grape.  Some believe that the grape originated in this region of Spain, where it has been widely planted for over 400 years.  Two wins in particular have frequently crossed my radar form this region, the popular 'Las Hermanas' with it's 70-30 blend of Monastrell and Syrah is incredibly easy to enjoy, and more recently the Luzon Verde Organic varietal Monastrell.  The latter is more interesting for me, to see a quality example of Monastrell acting on it's own outside of France.  Both, as a regional wine should be, are pretty darn cheap for the quality of the wine.

Further north, in the uplands around the towns of Zamora and Toro, is the wine region named for the latter.  A rapidly expanding wine town, Toro is to Rioja what Bergerac is to Bordeaux.  Perhaps less restrained, less elegant, but it's full-blooded wines are instantly appealing, bold expressions of the Tinto de Toro grape (local Tempranillo).  Though slightly more expensive than some of the cheaper Rioja wines, the delights of Toro wine are tough to match if you're looking for a big, warming red to go with some northern Spanish dishes like Wild Boar or mutton.

There are countless wine regions dotted around Spain, and to list them all and do them justice would require a well thought-out and carefully planned book or series of books.  Just to name a few, there is always Navarra, Somontano, Valencia and so many more which offer great wines that have not yet found their way in quantity onto our shelves.  I can only hope that they do.  What I see is that eventually the regional wines of Spain will follow the regional French wines in becoming interesting, carefully made alternatives to the big names we already know.

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