Red Wine chat and Christmas Suggestions

As a heathen and a non-parent, Christmas never feels as much to me as I’d like. A time of excitement, tradition and love usually manifests itself as just a bit of self-indulgence and guilt so in the spirit of giving which is what Christmas should be, I’m going to hopefully entertain and perhaps enlighten you with a few wine suggestions. It’s hardly turning water into wine, but never mind. And these wines are for life, not just christmas.

            Four wines, four countries, the Latin countries; France, Italy, Spain and Portugal. Where else of course, if you know my tastes. Now what you having for Christmas dinner? Turkey? Beef? Game? Fish?

Can’t really help you with the last one, actually, I’m talking about reds. The first wine is a fascinating one to start with. A red from Rioja? So far, so dull you say but wait. This is anything but dull. Single varietal – rare in Rioja- and it’s rather rare for this grape in general, as a singleton, that is, it’s usually used a blend. A wee ménage-a-trois with Syrah and Mourvèdre, for example.  A grape called Mazuelo. Never heard of it? Maybe you have under a different name. Carignan, in France or Carineña is other parts of Spain. The Spanish like to use their own names sometimes. Just to confuse things further Cariñena is also a region in north-west Spain.

Now Carignan doesn’t have a great reputation. Too much acidity, too much tannin, too much alcohol, not enough fruit or charm. Not quite the Theresa May of the wine world in terms of popularity but perhaps not far off. Thankfully, in the right hands, in the right place, it can be delightful. This one I tried from the Quinta de la Cruz vinery in Rioja was tremendous. Silky, some spice, red and black fruit, full of character and not quite a normal Rioja which is the ultimate excitement, as much of the fun is discovering something surprising.  You will find it on the High street, as a single varietal, most likely from Spain, it’s native home, or perhaps France where it grows in Languedoc.  Some tips, it should be hand-harvested, it’s doesn’t like machines and you'll need to spend at least a tenner or more but it’ll be worth it. They say lamb goes best with this grape but the one I had would have been delighted to spend some time with a pheasant, a partridge or even a turkey as long are there is some cranberry.

Second wine is a Frenchie. Cairanne, Côtes du Rhône Village.  Côtes du Rhônes are easy. If it has a specific name, such as Cairanne, it comes from a specific village, in this case, Cairanne, naturally and that almost certainly guarantees a step-up in quality from the regular Côtes du Rhône. Lower yields, more attention to detail, a little more ageing makes for happy wines. Classic Rhône grapes are involved here, Grenache, Syrah and some of our old friend Carignan, creating a smooth, beautifully balanced and immediately palate-friendly wine that will match beef, venison, partridge but has enough finesse that it’ll partner a turkey. Expect to pay a tenner, fifteen will get you a cracking wine.

Third. Portugal. Southern Portugal specifically. No, not the Algarve you tacky tourists.  The Setubal peninsula. Near Lisbon. A placed called Palmela. A grape called Castelão. I didn’t know this grape and don’t normally drink wine from the southern coastal part of the country. They can be a bit fruit –driven and tannin lacking for my tastes.  You’ve never heard of it, either. Course you haven’t, not really grown outside Portugal and far less well known than say, Touriga Nacional or Tourica Franca etc., the Port grapes. Now most Portuguese wines are mostly grown only in Portugal, making them rather unique. This is their best feature. Uniqueness combined with perfume, weight, lots of fruit, spice and nice tannins would describe these wines at their best. The one I had for example had all these things in abundance.  And again in a nice twist, it’s rare for wines from Portugal to be done as a single varietal. Similar food pairing to the Cairanne, I’d say. I’m not sure how easy the wine I had would be to find so Douro, Dão wines and Alentejo should give you little bit of what you fancy, these being the three best known regions and best represented.  Portugal has lovely, uniquely flavoured wines.  Douro can be a little heavy and alcoholic for my tastes, it is after all the same grapes they use to make Port but if you like that, go for it. Either way dive in, don’t let that flashy and petulant Ronaldo put you off the country’s more noble charms. The wines are anything but.

And finalemente, perhaps the star of today show: a wine from southern Italy! A wonderful and unique grape called Aglianico from a denomination called Taurasi in Campania, South-West Italy a place of mountains and volcanic soil. So romantic and rugged the south of Italy and wines like these are no different. Big powerful tannins, dark fruit such as blackberry and plum and a hint of chocolate. As well as unique minerality from the volcanic soil. That volcanic ash may have killed people in the past as at Pompeii so make sure you raise a glass to those poor soils who died for your pleasure. Wonderful combinations that just shout, TERROIR! Try with it venison or hare if you eat that type of thing. Or strong cheeses. Or beef. You’ll be fine. This one will require decanting to really open up. It’s twin, Alglianico Del Vulture from nearby Basilicata is equally impressive. Either way, expect to pay a bit more for this, but it’s worth it, really.

            Christmas shouldn’t just be about pleasure and self-indulgence but a little bit won’t do any harm.

If you go down to the Loire today....

You never know what you might find.

The Loire Valley is responsible for some great pleasures, white on the surface of it. Sancerre, Pouilly Fumé and other delightful Sauvignon Blancs like Menetou Salon and Reuilly. But dive deeper and there's more. There are tremendous dry and dessert wines made from Chenin Blanc, there’s even Muscadet which I’ve always liked even when it was much derided. It’s actually become a bit trendy recently amongst Sommeliers and the like, but don’t let that put you off. Loire even does fizz, the remarkably good value Crémant de Loire.

            But, it’s red I’m here to talk about, in particular wine made from Cabernet Franc the less glamourous cousin to Cabernet Sauvignon but equally interesting if not more so. Not to denigrate Cab. Sav. as they call it but those understated things in life just appeal to me more. And let’s not forget that one of the world’s most sophisticated and expensive wines, the famous Cheval Blanc from the right bank in Bordeaux is made from a blend of which Cab. Franc is the dominant grape. But in terms of glamour, that’s an exception and so back to the Loire which specializes in this relatively little known gem. Usually around 90 % of the blend, so it really is the barometer for Cab. Franc as a representative expression of the grape. It prefers cooler, inland terroirs hence it thrives in Saumur, Chinon and Bourgeuil, all in the central Loire. It’s not always rosy of course, poor weather can affect the harvest and make it a little insipid but generally speaking these days, it’s pretty consistent. Cabernet Franc is a subtle grape; light to medium bodied, perfumed, red and black fruits depending on individual wine and can be drunk chilled, if you so wish. Enough tannin to make it a good food wine but nothing like it’s macho relative.

            Now, beyond that, discovering it is easy as there’s not that much to choose from. Saumur Champigny if you believe the Sommeliers, is probably the most sophisticated, beautifully balanced and subtle and great with food - as they all are - though not roast beef or anything TOO heavy and rich. Bourgeuil and St. Nicolas de Bourgeuil, generally a bit more intense perhaps less nuanced and earthier though still highly recommended (esp. St. Nicolas) and Chinon, perhaps the best known, again, on the delicate side, but maybe the one to avoid at a low price from supermarket shelves unless it’s drunk chilled and you don’t expect too much. Not that price will be an issue. These wines, if you can find them, can be had for pretty reasonable prices and like all my favourite wines, have their own unique personalities and qualities. A decent amount of searching should bring you sufficient reward and significant pleasure!

http://loirevalleywine.com/appellation/st-nicolas-de-bourgueil/

Malbec Memories...

Seems somehow timely to be writing about a hot day in the South-West of France on this damp squib of a day in London in August. The hot day was last June, the place was Cahors! There we were walking round this delightfully charming yet low key city and food was on our mind. What was to be eaten remained uncertain, there are many options but the wine was less in doubt. In wine terms there’s only one word to associate with Cahors. It is, of course, Malbec. Now for many of us, Malbec is synonymous with Argentina. That little relationship has worked out rather well, but let’s not forget that they’ve been cultivating this grape around Cahors for centuries. 

 Malbec or Cot as it is also known is a dark, inky chewy black grape. This doesn’t paint a lovey picture of course, but for those who know what they’re doing round here, this isn’t a problem. Firstly, some merlot is normally added to soften it up a little.  There is also the little matter of that favourite thing of mine, le terroir. In the rugged hills above Cahors, the limestone character of the soils gives a unique personality to these wines. The cheaper ones are not necessarily that sophisticated, certainly less palate friendly than the more fruit driven Argentine equivalent -where altitude reduces the tannic effect - but when drunk here with the local cuisine, it is a match made in heaven. My lunch of Duck Confit – for the first time in my life, but it was worth the wait- was consumed with a chilled rosé as it turned out. Being hot and lunchtime, red was out of the question, but the rosé was perfect. Made from Malbec, obviously, in a pale pink style à la Provence with good freshness and minerality. 

And minerality leads me to the particular wine in question for this article. A 2012 Chateau de Chambert Cahors AOC. A perfect example of the best Cahors has to offer. The limestone and iron rich soils give an elegance, minerality and finesse to this wine that balance the inherent power and structure of the Malbec grape. Combined with the fruit you have a wine that matches many dishes most perfectly. This will also last if you wish to ‘put it down’ and at well under twenty pounds it represents excellent value for money. That’s the thing about Malbec from Cahors. The good ones are not that expensive and are unique. The cheaper ones to be found on supermarket shelves are usually reasonable fun, maybe not worth writing home about so much with the mass of competition around but if you want to spend a bit more money once in a while, but not too much, do some research on Cahors! Even better just go there!

Zweigelt, an Austrian delight...

I don’t know about you but some of my favourite moments with wine are discovering, re-discovering or just being reminded how much you love a certain wine that you haven’t had in a while. This happened recently with this fellow, Jordan Pulka made from a grape called Zweigelt. I’ve talked about Austrian reds before so I won’t bore you with too many technicalities. Austria remains essentially, I’d say, a boutique wine producer; outside of Austria that is. That’s no bad thing on one level, but it keeps availability rather minimal, particularly for Red wine. White Austrian wine especially, its flagship, Grüner Vetliner is better known, more widely available and quite trendy these days. But don’t let that put you off. It’s a fine varietal, with a range of styles from bone dry to big and rich like a Chardonnay from Burgundy.

            Anyway, I’m here to talk about red wine, so back to the delightfully named Zweigelt. Austria’s most planted red wine, it’s no doubt available in every restaurant in Vienna and everywhere else over there. Lucky them. It is- this is another factor for me that make a wine, a favourite wine- probably impossible to identify in a blind tasting. This one had spice, lots of pepper, great depth of mostly black fruit, lovely round tannins and medium weight on the palate.  That covers a lot of possibilities. It’s that uniqueness that makes it such fun. This one has three years of age and could have aged a bit more. Some Zweigelts, in fact many of them are drunk young, but this had a bit more complexity and was all the better for it. A perfect food wine, we actually had it after dinner, in fact, after a kind of homemade Chicken fried rice so not an obvious match to have together but afterwards it worked perfectly, it’s pepper and spice notes complementing our palates and the delightful fruit and mouth filling tannins working like a low calorie port. Cheese or chocolate would have worked perfectly, in fact, it was crying out for chocolate but we didn’t have any so we had to make do with the wine and that was quite fine. A fascinating and delightful wine that isn’t quite like anything else I know; I recommend it highly though it may not be easy to find but keep your eyes peeled. Worth pursuing!

Rosé. It's all about the Feeling!

   "Roooosaay, I love ya, especially today. " Good song that. Rosé by the The Feeling. I knew what they meant recently. I was working for Rosé de Provence in London. Nice outdoor event, busy part of London in June. All that was missing was the weather. Grey, wet, windy and cold. When the weather finally relented, however, everything made sense. All wine, well most is contextual to a certain degree. Rosé de Provence perhaps more than most in its specific requirements. Heat and blue sky essential.  And ice cold. No compromise. With those elements Rosé de Provence or any Rosé with that delightful delicate pinkish hue transforms into a thing of beauty. Without them, well, you can see the potential, but not much else, a bit like the England Football team. All the more impressive that delicacy, given the type of grapes that it tends to come from. Big tough, griselled soldiers like Syrah, Cinsault, Grenache etc. Wines that pack a punch when following their natural path to powerful red wines bombarded by that hot Mediterranean sun. But no, a delicate Rosé from that unforgiving climate has none of that. A remarkable transformation. As you may have read in a previous blog, the key is skin contact. Skin is where the colour is. So minimal skin contact guarantees that lovely colour. And I repeat, without the sun and heat there really is no point.

         On a recent trip to Cahors, in south-west France, on a hot day, I had a lovely pale Rosé (made from Malbec, of course, speciality of the region) and it was perfect. Fresh and clean with sufficient complexity it was a perfect accompaniment to a Duck Confit. Happy days. That memory will remain until the sun comes out in London again. Well a lot longer than that actually.

Yecla DO. A little Spanish gem.

Spain is such an exciting place for wine because there’s so much to discover, rather like Italy. I rarely buy Spanish wine in London because I’m lucky enough to spend a lot of time in Spain so I tend to keep it for those moments. Also psychologically, it’s just too traumatic having to spend ten quid on wines that cost about 3 over there.

            That should be qualified; I don’t buy Rioja or Ribero Del Duero over here. Also I think it’s more than just money, it’s association. It’s context. So much time and pleasure eating and drinking Spanish food and Spanish wine in authentic southern Spain, has institutionalized me to the tastes and the unique atmosphere. I do feel sorry; in a rather smug, self-satisfied yet also immensely grateful way too, of course, for those saps spending a fortune in London “tapas” bars. You wouldn’t catch me in there. Anyway enough of that self-indulgent reflection. The point is; when I see a rarer Spanish red, for a reasonable price, I’ll sometimes give it a go, as with the wine in question for this article. In the mountains of Murcia, in south-eastern Spain - a place that is probably described in guide books as wild, romantic and unforgiving - is the town of Yecla, which give the wine its name. I’ve known about these wines for a while now though they’re not seen a huge amount. The one I picked was made from a grape that the Spanish call Monastrell. The French call it Mourvèdre. It likes heat and is most often used as a blend. When you see it, I’d suggest going for it. It’s rather unique and one of Spain's little known specialities as its rarely done as a principal grape elsewhere. This fellow was only 8 pounds from M and S or 'S and M' as the 50 shades of Grey generation call it in an attempt to be post-modern. A bargain. Lovely red fruits and some plum flavours too, with spice and plenty of alcohol and acidity for your Sunday roast, yet rather soft and restrained at the same time. Utterly food friendly wine, we had with roast chicken, they suggest curry or Barbeque. Just make sure you eat something with it as it has 14.5 % alcohol.

Madiran - A feisty dark horse...

What’s your favourite wine? Impossible to answer right? Like favourite song, favourite film, favourite place etc. The agony of choice. A modern problem for us privileged ones.

            Anyway, what do you know of Madiran? Not much perhaps, not particularly well known but for those who do know it, make it, drink it etc., there is a great deal of enthusiasm.

            In south-west France about 2 hours inland of Biarritz is the village of Madiran. The small appellation of Madiran is around 70 years old but they’ve been making wine here since Roman times. I’ve never been there but I’m told it’s beautiful.  And the climate seems rather delicious, nice and warm but tempered by the winds and moisture of the Atlantic and so not as uncomfortably warm in mid-summer as, say the Rhone Valley.

            Now, why Madiran? Like a lot of wine preferences, I think it’s one particular experience that creates that love, that loyalty. More of that later.  It’s also of a style that suits my palate. Quite dry and tannic. Plummy with red and black fruits and a bit of spice. The predominant grape is called Tannat which, of course hints at its style. Traditionally, long maturation and ageing was required for the wine to soften sufficiently but modern techniques enable it to be drunk much younger though the best wines still have a bit of age. It’s relatively unique too in its style. I also like an underdog. Wines appellations like Madiran have to work quite hard to survive.

            So, the experience in question. In 2012, working in Nicolas the French wine merchant I began to discover some lesser known wine regions of France. We had two bottles of a Madiran, 2006. No more of that vintage were available, so I bought one and unusually for me I kept it.  Well a friend of mine kept it as I moved house later that year and left a bag at his place. Luckily. The following year, a Sunday afternoon in late winter, myself and another good mate got together at said friend’s place for a boozy lunch. Amongst much wine, was downed a bottle of Jurançon sec i.e. dry, funnily enough from the same part of France with razor clams but the highlight was the Madiran with a venison stew. One of those moments we occasionally enjoy where everything fits into place.  The company, the context, the food and the wine. Those moments are rare, that’s probably why I remember it all so well.

            Since that moment I’ve been a great fan of Madiran. Why write about it 4 years later? Well I found some Madiran recently in M & S. Not the best one you might find, but good value, subtle and worth a go. That’s the thing about wine. It’s all personal. I can’t guarantee you’ll enjoy Madiran as much as me, but I guarantee it’s worth investigating if you like dry, food friendly reds. And you’ll be helping an underdog too.

Viva L'Espanya

       

It never fails to amaze me, the power of a brand. It’s ability to stay in peoples’ heads. Or maybe I’m giving to much credit to the brand, maybe people just don’t make enough of an effort to discover other brands. The brand I’m referring to is Rioja wine. Not technically a brand perhaps but the purposes of my debate I’ll refer to it as that.

            Surely one of the world’s best known wine regions, no wine producing country has such a solely dominant name as Rioja. France has Bordeaux, Burgundy, the Loire etc. Italy has Chianti, Barolo and so on (not regions of course but my point is recognizable ‘brands’.  People don’t necessarily see wine in specific terms, i.e., a region, a sub-region, a denomination, they see it in terms of names.

            Now, Spain makes a lot of wine but how much could the average wine drinker on the street name? Cava? Sherry(at a push)? And possibly for the aficionado, Ribero Del Duero?

            I’m lucky enough to spend a fair amount of time in Spain and when I go I always buy more Ribero than Rioja. Not to say that it’s better, but I have a soft spot for it. Ribero is to a certain degree, the new kid in Town (though the Vega Sicilia DO has been making fine wines that rival Rioja’s greatest for a long, long time).  The Duero river is in fact the same Douro river that runs through Portugal where they make Port and it is similarly rugged and harsh in climate. On a high plateau in northern central Spain near the city of Valladolid (trying saying that a few too many glasses of Tinto), extreme temperatures and altitude give a shorter growing season than Rioja but these extremes, of course, help to shape the character of the wine. The good news for you Rioja fans is that the grapes are the same; well almost, Tempranillo as it’s widely known, the main grape of Rioja, Tinta del Pais in Ribero. It’s a variant that has adapted to the local conditions. Essentially, Ribero wines are perhaps a bit more robust, a bit more muscular, a bit more intense than their cousins from Rioja.

            In other words, there’s a place for both. I love Rioja too, nothing beats the soft, velvety finish of a Gran Reserva. Ultimately like everything it comes down to personal taste. The Spain (Andalucía) I know is closer to Ribero in character. Hot, extreme, intense and yet somehow also romantic. Maybe that’s all it is. Anyway, if Ribero is unknown to you, go out and get some and decide for yourself.

A few words on the Rainbow Warrior, Joost Van Der Westhuizen.

June 1995. Ellis Park, Johannesburg, South Africa. The year Rugby went from black and white to colour. South Africa win the World Cup against the odds, beating the mighty All Blacks in front of Nelson Mandela and in front of the world.  They hadn’t even been allowed to participate in the first two world cups because of Apartheid. The images of Mandela in the South African shirt after victory have gone down in history. Joost Van Der Westhuizen was one of the reasons they did so. The greatest scrum of his generation and possibly of all time. Certainly one of the greatest rugby players of all time. An athletic, skilful warrior with movie star looks, some people are just born luckier than others it seems. He continued to inspire millions (and terrorize opposition fans) as a Rugby player till his retirement in 2003. In 2011, at the age of 38, however, his luck ran out. He was diagnosed with Motor Neuron Disease, cruel for anyone but for a professional rugby player it must have been almost overwhelming for him to take, as he gradually faded away physically and lost the power of speech. But his notorious bravery as a rugby player served him well. Rather than saying “why me”, he said “why not me” and made it his new purpose to serve the world as an ambassador in the combat against MND. He once said in an interview that time and health are two things we take for granted that we shouldn’t. When he lost those things, he said he lost his ego and arrogance and he was determined to stay around for as long as he could to make a difference. He managed five years; significantly more than doctors expected. Joost Van Der Westhuizen was an inspirational sportsman and arguably even more inspirational in his fight and contribution to increasing awareness of a cruel and humiliating disease. I wish I’d met him.

RIP Bro’ in my best South African accent.

Carling Drinkers, Look Away Now

Dry January anyone? Knowing my limits, I’ll pass.  Also, like any other fad, my particular individualist nature prevents me from joining in. Furthermore, people doing ‘dry January’ tend to remind me of joggers in the rain. The same look of bitterness and resentment. Nevertheless, I admire anyone with the willpower to do it. Hats off. “Chapeau” as they say in France. I need to build myself up slowly to such an undertaking. As for jogging, well perhaps in another life.

            So, despite my inability to make my body a temple, I’m trying to stick to beer at the moment and there’s such a plethora now that beer has become trendy, that it’s rather fun discovering. I can’t pretend to take it all too seriously, beer will never have the same interest or fascination as say wine does for me. I love beer but the technicalities, well I’ll leave that to the hipsters and beer producers.

            Craft beers are all the rage of course. IPA’s, American Pale Ales, White ones, Dark ones etc. but I’ve noticed some more Pilsners are appearing again too on the high street, perhaps in a need to remind us how good, good Pilsner is. I’ve written about Furstenberg in the past, the Bavarian Black Forest Pilsner. Another is Paulaner, also Bavarian, from Munich. Münchner Hell, they call it. I have no idea what that means, but the unfortunate misnomer shouldn’t put you off. This beer is a close to heaven as you can get. Clearly the principle of good ingredients, passion, knowledge and skill make all the difference. You can taste the “craft”.  Pure, clean and flavoursome to a degree, couldn’t tell you what flavours, I don’t really care, my guess would be citrusy but utterly divine and good value from Majestic too. Drink this and you may never be able to drink a can or bottle of mass produced lager again.

Pilsner is about refreshment, palate cleansing, thirst quenching and/or as an aperitif. The ales are more complex, more intense, more hoppy and more flavoursome. Therefore, more suited to food, if you’re bothered or trying to avoid wine. I still drink them on their own but they’ll complement curries; Indian, Thai, Malaysian etc., Mexican, Tapas, Burgers, lots of various things. But this isn’t a food blog. Good beer doesn’t really need an accompaniment I don’t think.

Two others I discovered are Tribute Cornish Pale Ale and St. Peters Golden Ale from Suffolk. Both superb and both easy to find. Cornwall produces a few decent beers these days. Tribute like many is family owned with the history, the tradition and of course the excellent and local natural ingredients. Get all those in place and you’ve got a superb beer. Plenty of flavour but not too intense or hoppy as some pale ales can be. Highly recommended. Not too alcoholic either only 4.2 % so a more modern style. The high alcohol element of pale ales was traditionally a necessity to keep them fresh on the long sea journey but that’s no longer an issue.

St. Peter’s is more old school in style and in terms of the bottle, a delightful old fashioned type of design and without the hoppyness of the pale ales. A rich amber colour, relatively strong flavour but fresh too on the palate. For me, all beer, needs to have the element of refreshment, otherwise what’s the point, even in Britain in winter. The delicate freshness counterbalances the richness of the flavour. The water is drawn from deep wells in deepest Suffolk and the purity as with the Pilsner comes through. They’ve been doing it for 700 years so they obviously know their onions. A nice traditional feel but with a lightness that suits our modern sensitive palates. Nicely done.

So, if you’re avoiding dry January, check these lads out, you won’t regret it.