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

 

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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.

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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

Drone Strikes vs. Carpet Bombing- A Merchant's Dilemma

Hey Everyone,

The other day I made my way down to London for a tasting hosted by wine merchants, Bibendum, showcasing the most interesting wines from their list. The last time I was at a Bibendum Tasting (the Just Add Bibendum Tasting) the multiple rooms of a massive venue were packed with row after row of tables occupied by producers showing up to ten bottles each. There were thousands of wines and thousands of people all cramming to get to the table to try their £10 shiraz or somesuch.

The same sort of thing goes for massive events such as the SITT Tastings, which I attended in Manchester and the Liberty Tasting in Edinburgh, where a tight venue in the form of an old library was used to showcase around 1,500 wines. At these tastings, I tend to find that about 30% of the wines shown are pretty poor with a larger level of decent/ passable wines and a small percentage of awesome wines. This tasting, however was different; gloriously different.

40 producers, a strictly limited invite list and two smallish rooms in the Gallery Soho provided the story line for the evening. Top sommeliers from Michelin starred restaurants don't want to bother sifting through the endless lakes of crappy wine to find themselves with a handful of good bottles. They don't need a cheap wine with a value reflected in it's quality. They need proper wine that they can put down on a table that can carry the reputation of the establishment. In essence, they rely on the wine to no let the side down. This tasting was for 'Artisan wine' meaning that everything there was carefully chosen and, indeed, carefully made. It was an exercise in a wine merchant doing what is most important in the trade. That is avoiding the temptation to carpet bomb their customers with overwhelming choice and lazily say 'Look how much choice we offer, we're obviously the best.'

A good wine merchant is more precise, and while variety is important, I have seen time and time again as a customer wanders into a wine shop and becomes paralysed by selection. What is even the most experienced drinker supposed to do when you have the option of 7 Alsatian Rieslings all between £10 and £15? It should be the responsibility of the merchant to find the wine in that price range, made with the most care and quality and put that to their customers. This tasting showed me just how accurate a merchant's selection can be. Rather than carpet bombing, this was a drone strike. 1/20th of the wine as the usual tasting, but still a wine to fit each price range, from a £15 bottle of delicious Sicilian Rose, to a £100 bottle of Daguenau Pouilly-Fumé, and what's more; every bottle chosen was good.

Now some of these wines weren't necessarily to my taste, but I could easily see the merits of each of them in their own style. For example, I'm not really a fan of Australian shiraz, as popular of a wine as it is, but the ones on display were true to style and, for a shiraz drinker they were clearly worth every penny. At the average trade tasting I could go through 10 Shirazes before I settle on 1 solid example. Not the case here. A wine merchant doesn't need a shop filled with thousands of wines with thirty of each style and multiples in each price range. What they need is precision. One good £15 bottle of chardonnay that can be replaced regularly with an exciting rotation of stock is infinitely preferable to mountains of stagnant variation.

The merchant's job is to facilitate the relationship between the producer and the consumer and to help the latter by doing half of the deciding. A respectable wine company should be a guarantee that every bottle on the shelf is a good example of what the label says. It comes down to the consumer to buy with confidence and enjoy a good glass of wine, not go through trial and error to finally get there.

Much love,

G

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