Hey Everyone,
Today I am writing to you in the aftermath of a tasting conducted by my good friend and longtime Colleague, Mr. Peter Wood (www.thetastingnote.com). Peter has always had a true knack for identifying future sources of excitement in wine and his most recent achievement is perhaps his most intriguing to date. Burgundy has always had a sonorous resonance in it's very name and with the land parcelled out and much of it spoken for by various domaines, cooperatives and large negociants, it is rare that something new and exciting comes along.
There was a time when Frederic Mugnier was the cause of great excitement, with wines stunningly over-performing for their price, but of course when the word gets out, a well kept secret becomes a part of the status quo of excellent, and appropriately priced wines. That is why the rise of a new producer in Burgundy, snatching up the best grapes in Savigny-le-Beaune is exciting for anyone looking for a good bargain that is sure to attract attention in the very near future.
Le Grappin, from Australian winemaker Andrew Nielsen is living proof that the wine world is never exhausted, never done throwing out surprises, and with his wines focused on the excellent, underrated terroirs of Savigny's vineyards he is quickly turning heads. Producing a minuscule amount of wine each year (sometimes as little as two barrels!) he only makes what he is sure will be phenomenal.
Negociants like Mr. Nielsen are often larger companies that will happily purchase grapes from a large plot of land, ensuring their supply and the flexibility to sort the best grapes from the lot. Andrew however, will go into the vineyard and select such small parcels of grapes, that it often comes down to a question of rows or vines, rather than vineyards or blocks. Combine this highly selective process with the quality of vineyards such as le Boucherottes and Grèves (both proven premier cru sites) and you have a recipe for a truly exceptional wine.
One of the most exciting aspects of the Grappin range is that he never overcharges for his wines. At least not yet. He produces his basic level Savigny red and white wines and they sell for around £30 per bottle. It is enough to emphasise the quality of the wine, but not enough to put off the enthusiastic wine lovers who want a reasonablly priced bottle to cellar for a few years and drink on a special occasion. However, it is the premier cru wines where the value becomes truly apparent. both the red from Boucherottes and a rare example of a white from Grèves generally sell for only a few pounds more than the entry level. The result? Wines capable of facing the test of time in the cellar and rewarding careful storage with what is almost certain to be sublime stuff in maturity.
As it stands now, his wines are often bottled and released in the space of a few weeks, leaving the bottle maturation to the customer, but hopefully as his business becomes as strong as his wines we will see them released later with more bottle age. For now, you should defintely get your hands on his wines as quickly as you can because they won't stay at £30 for long!
Much Love,
G
Showing posts with label French Wine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label French Wine. Show all posts
Thursday, 13 February 2014
Tuesday, 7 May 2013
Bordeaux Tasting
Hey Everyone!
Long while since I posted to this or any blog but I'm happy to be doing so again! Today I'm writing about a wee tasting I put on for a few friends of mine as they prepare for a high profile tasting competition at the Residence de France in London a fortnight from now. The theme of the evening is Left Bank Bordeaux, including Médoc, Graves, Sauternes and Barsac. I took part in this tasting last year and despite doing somewhat poorly (then having my spirits lifted by a stunning meal and lovely wine) I feel that the exercise of analysing Bordeaux from a blind tasting perspective was very enlightening.
When training for blind tasting, you always look at the general styles of grapes and regions in the following manner: Syrah tastes of violets, but is fruiter in Australia and more briny in the Rhône and so on. Basically you paint a region with a broad brush and Bordeaux is the same. There is a character to Bordeaux that makes it unique from wine anywhere else in the world. I am fairly confident I could pick out a Pomerol in a line up of Merlots from the rest of the world, but when it comes to picking apart the differences between the various cabernet-based communes of the Left Bank things get a bit tricky. So today's tasting was aimed at four appellations and three vintages.
1. Chateau Le Pey 2010 Médoc- The nose was creamy, sweet salted caramel and milk chocolate followed by cherry and crème de cassis. The colour was youthfully red; no traces of ageing yet lighter than some of the older wines showing the wine to be less concentrated. The palate agreed with lighter tannins, less intense flavours and acidity. A pleasant wine, but not the product of great grapes.
2. Chateau de Cardaillan 2007 Graves- Deeper colour but with some brickish hues showing the affects of ageing. 2007 is an early drinking vintage so it follows that maturity was reached quickly in comparison with the older Fourcas-Dupré. The nose was marred by a slight cork-taint but the character showed through in a perfumed fruit nose
3. Chateau Fourcas-Dupré 2004 Listrac-Médoc- This one was difficult to describe. There was not a whole lot to distinguish it from general Bordeaux wine. It lacked the cocoa powder of St-Estephe, the perfume of Margaux or the woody cedar of Saint-Julien. It was a good wine, but there really wasn't a whole lot to tell us what exactly a Listrac-Médoc was like. That said, it was a lovely bottle of wine!
4. Chateau Martinens 2007 Margaux- Classic to Margaux, the nose showed plenty of floral aromatics, perfume (almost like Campari smelled from a distance) and something along the lines of kirsch liquer. The palate showed fine grained tannins and an elegant finish. A really great wine and amongst this line up, I think it showed as an amazing wine.
Overall, I find the concept of blind tasting a highly invigorating experience, especially when put into such a singular context as Left Bank Bordeaux. It also shows what a versatile region Bordeaux is for wine production. It's not a tired region only good for putting out overrated and expensive wines. Rather it does offer some good value and quality across the board. Especially in an age where so many new world wineries boast of their high altitude or extreme conditions, Bordeaux is temperate by comparison and never more than a few metres above sea level.
For whatever reason, wine from Bordeaux is often overlooked by the casual drinker, but it should not be. It offers good quality, easy drinking and food friendly wine at a reasonable price point. These four bottles showed particularly well, but there are countless others like them.
Much Love,
George
Posted with BlogsyFriday, 22 February 2013
One Year On- A year of the Grape Press
So I have now come to the first year anniversary (well a bit past it) since I first posted. A lot changes in a year; graduation, and amazing summer in St. Andrews and the United States, time spent working in New York City and helping set up a new company in the Auld Grey Toon. Visa problems for myself - and it seems most of my friends and now I am at new heights in my wine experience. It has certainly been an interesting year for the Grape Press and myself.
I have been in South Africa now for 8 days and my experiences have been tremendous. I have seen the most beautiful landscapes I've ever laid eyes on, I've tasted some amazing food and meat some amazing people. My objective; to explore the wines of this country has been well under way for some time, with some exciting results. I have meat young, ambitious and energetic wine makers, old hands with tremendous experience and plenty of other characters in and around this great town of Stellenbosch.
The enthusiasm that these people breathe is infectious, and if you come to a wine farm ambivalent to the product, you will leave an hour later as devoted to the wines as the winemaker himself. It is easy to get caught up in things here in Stellenbosch; because everything about the place is emotive. Every night there is a carnival atmosphere in the town and you can't help but have fun. Beyond the streets of town there is the countryside where the most striking landscapes imaginable can stun you without fail every single day.
I for one am finding myself increasingly devoted to South Africa's wines and the people behind the bottles. There are stories here that ring true with everything I want wine to be. There is romance and there is love for the land as well as artistry and awareness. I know that wine, unlike any other product has a penchant for getting passion from it's devotees but there is an intensity in South Africa that vindicates my devotion to the subject. There are themes that are beyond my ability to vocalise so I will not attempt to do them justice, but suffice to say that they are as great as the Helderberg Mountains and as complex as the country's past.
I hope over the past year you have enjoyed my writing and I look forward to continuing in 2013 and into the future. To see the huge changes over the course of the year, I am filled with great hope to know that just as much can happen in the coming year. Tonight find a glass of something nice, be it wine, beer, juice (whatever!) and enjoy it. I'll be doing the same!
(As always) Much Love,
G
Wednesday, 16 January 2013
My Love Hate Relationship...
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.
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.
Sunday, 4 November 2012
American in Paris (Drinking Wine)
Hey Everyone,
Today I am writing to you all on the last night of my trip to Paris, where I've been wandering aimlessly and without itinerary for about 4 days now. No agenda, no contacts and no travel companions has led me to realise that my best friend in this city right now is a good bottle of wine and I am happy to report that I have been spoiled rotten.
Before I get into the more enjoyable parts of my visit and talk about the wine one can find in Paris, I will acknowledge the shortcomings of the French wine market. While this country produces more wine than any other apart from Italy and is known around the world for leading the rest in quality and fame for it's producers, there is a lack of context for it all. I mean to say that I have seen exactly one bottle of Spanish wine (2007 Marqués de Riscal Rioja Reserva) and not much else from outside of France.
What I lamented in particular was the absence of many interesting wine regions of this very country. In my visit to many different caves in the city I came across one Bandol, one Cumieres, one Cahors and two Juras (a red and a white from the same producer next to each other on the shelf). I was hoping for a chance to find a selection of unique French wines I may not have heard of, but by and large all that was on offer consistently was very recent Bordeaux Supérieur, Dotes du Rhone, Bourgogne Aligoté (oddly enough) and a large amount of Petit Chablis. Then of course there was the ocean of Beaujolais. I've come to the conclusion that Paris is less concerned with the variety and more focused on a consistent selection.
That said, I was lucky enough to find two or three very good shops in Paris and I was able to grab a couple of nice bottles during my time here. One such shop, identified only by the titles "Cave des Cigares, Cave des Vin" was a shop very much up my alley. Aside form finding a myriad selection of cigars from some of my favourite houses at a fraction of the British price, I also found an interesting assortment of Bordeaux and Rhone. I could count perhaps 40 wines in total but the selection was an exciting one. With under twenty Euros I was able to grab a 2000 Saint-Émilion which was really fabulous stuff as well as a brilliantly concentrated 2009 Cahors.
I've never had a good Cahors and this one for under ten quid was a nice cheapie. It was rich and had a thick layering of black currant, smoke, flint and really firm tannins. I know why this stuff doesn't come often to the UK seeing as it is somewhat impenetrable for all that tannin and acidity, but when you get your palate to grips with it, it's like gaining a taste for cask strength whisky; it pleases on a whole new level.
Just on the other side of the hill of Montmartre and the Sacre Couer lies the neighbourhood of Abbesses; the only part of town where people would put up with my poor French and encourage me along. The Cave des Abbesses is pretty much a hall way lined with shelves and bottles and here I found a wide selection of mature wines for a damn good price. From 2001 alone I found bottles of Cornas, Côte-Rotie, Bergerac, Pomerol and half a dozen other amazing appellations allowing the drinker the chance to buy wine ready to go or age depending on preference. A nice collection of white Burgundy, white Rhône and bordeaux blanc (I treated myself to a bottle of white Graves for the composition of this post) made for an interesting range of whites, especially for the oak-crazy palate I get at this time of year.
The one to take the cake and eat it too, however was the Épicerie Legrand Filles et Fils, located on Rue de la Banque in the 2nd Arrondissement may be a bit out of the average price range, and in particular seeing as I was on my own, however it was a uniquely engaging place. A good selection of Wines from pretty much every major appellation as well as a great selection of half bottles including Chateau Gazin, Beychevelle and others made for interesting browsing. Of particular interest to me was the wide selection of top notch growers' champagnes and a fair selection of single malt. The shop itself was never overly self conscious with the newer parts being evidently new but tasteful and the older rooms showing their age gently, and none of the faux-olde-worlde look a lot of wine shops go for.
The tasting room was more of a bar with the sort of feel that it could equally welcome a business lunch as it could host a couple of curious twenty-year-old oenophiles. The selection of first growths in magnum, double magnum and larger was certainly inspiring.
As my bottle of Graves grows more and more empty I am afraid I am becoming sentimental about my trip to Paris. Rarely does one spend so long without conversation, or so much time within one's own thoughts, yet I find the situation invigorating. While I can tell that Paris is a city for pairs, it isn't all bad for ones, and if you can find a spot in the big city for yourself you will enjoy your stay to be sure. I look forward to returning to Paris with company and to venture more regularly into the wine world of this city but for now I leave you with these bits of wisdom from a wine-loving traveller; look high and low in Paris and you will certainly be rewarded with some of the best wines you can find.
Much Love,
G
Today I am writing to you all on the last night of my trip to Paris, where I've been wandering aimlessly and without itinerary for about 4 days now. No agenda, no contacts and no travel companions has led me to realise that my best friend in this city right now is a good bottle of wine and I am happy to report that I have been spoiled rotten.
Before I get into the more enjoyable parts of my visit and talk about the wine one can find in Paris, I will acknowledge the shortcomings of the French wine market. While this country produces more wine than any other apart from Italy and is known around the world for leading the rest in quality and fame for it's producers, there is a lack of context for it all. I mean to say that I have seen exactly one bottle of Spanish wine (2007 Marqués de Riscal Rioja Reserva) and not much else from outside of France.
What I lamented in particular was the absence of many interesting wine regions of this very country. In my visit to many different caves in the city I came across one Bandol, one Cumieres, one Cahors and two Juras (a red and a white from the same producer next to each other on the shelf). I was hoping for a chance to find a selection of unique French wines I may not have heard of, but by and large all that was on offer consistently was very recent Bordeaux Supérieur, Dotes du Rhone, Bourgogne Aligoté (oddly enough) and a large amount of Petit Chablis. Then of course there was the ocean of Beaujolais. I've come to the conclusion that Paris is less concerned with the variety and more focused on a consistent selection.
That said, I was lucky enough to find two or three very good shops in Paris and I was able to grab a couple of nice bottles during my time here. One such shop, identified only by the titles "Cave des Cigares, Cave des Vin" was a shop very much up my alley. Aside form finding a myriad selection of cigars from some of my favourite houses at a fraction of the British price, I also found an interesting assortment of Bordeaux and Rhone. I could count perhaps 40 wines in total but the selection was an exciting one. With under twenty Euros I was able to grab a 2000 Saint-Émilion which was really fabulous stuff as well as a brilliantly concentrated 2009 Cahors.
I've never had a good Cahors and this one for under ten quid was a nice cheapie. It was rich and had a thick layering of black currant, smoke, flint and really firm tannins. I know why this stuff doesn't come often to the UK seeing as it is somewhat impenetrable for all that tannin and acidity, but when you get your palate to grips with it, it's like gaining a taste for cask strength whisky; it pleases on a whole new level.
Just on the other side of the hill of Montmartre and the Sacre Couer lies the neighbourhood of Abbesses; the only part of town where people would put up with my poor French and encourage me along. The Cave des Abbesses is pretty much a hall way lined with shelves and bottles and here I found a wide selection of mature wines for a damn good price. From 2001 alone I found bottles of Cornas, Côte-Rotie, Bergerac, Pomerol and half a dozen other amazing appellations allowing the drinker the chance to buy wine ready to go or age depending on preference. A nice collection of white Burgundy, white Rhône and bordeaux blanc (I treated myself to a bottle of white Graves for the composition of this post) made for an interesting range of whites, especially for the oak-crazy palate I get at this time of year.
The one to take the cake and eat it too, however was the Épicerie Legrand Filles et Fils, located on Rue de la Banque in the 2nd Arrondissement may be a bit out of the average price range, and in particular seeing as I was on my own, however it was a uniquely engaging place. A good selection of Wines from pretty much every major appellation as well as a great selection of half bottles including Chateau Gazin, Beychevelle and others made for interesting browsing. Of particular interest to me was the wide selection of top notch growers' champagnes and a fair selection of single malt. The shop itself was never overly self conscious with the newer parts being evidently new but tasteful and the older rooms showing their age gently, and none of the faux-olde-worlde look a lot of wine shops go for.
The tasting room was more of a bar with the sort of feel that it could equally welcome a business lunch as it could host a couple of curious twenty-year-old oenophiles. The selection of first growths in magnum, double magnum and larger was certainly inspiring.
As my bottle of Graves grows more and more empty I am afraid I am becoming sentimental about my trip to Paris. Rarely does one spend so long without conversation, or so much time within one's own thoughts, yet I find the situation invigorating. While I can tell that Paris is a city for pairs, it isn't all bad for ones, and if you can find a spot in the big city for yourself you will enjoy your stay to be sure. I look forward to returning to Paris with company and to venture more regularly into the wine world of this city but for now I leave you with these bits of wisdom from a wine-loving traveller; look high and low in Paris and you will certainly be rewarded with some of the best wines you can find.
Much Love,
G
Sunday, 10 June 2012
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.
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
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
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