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[For the
uninitiated, a 'blog' (or weblog)
is a web journal with links. This gives me a chance to add short, 'off the record' style items that
wouldn't merit a separate article. I try my best to keep entries informal,
frequent, brief and (hopefully) interesting. For more information
about Jamie Goode, see the about the author
section. ]
Monday 10th
November 2003
I was googling today, trying to look up a price for a recommendation
for my Western Mail column (Blandy’s 1996 Harvest Malmsey
Madeira, stocked by Sainsbury) when I came across two well written
wine pieces. The first was from a slightly unexpected source, Malcolm
Gluck’s superplonk column. I say unexpected not as a slight
to Malcolm’s writing, but rather because his style isn’t usually
one I appreciate. But in his piece on the
threat of wine brands, I think he’s hit the target.
‘The
UK's first teetotal wine buyer is probably being interviewed for the
job right now,’ says Malcolm, ‘for who needs to drink wine to buy
the brands that are becoming so prominent on certain wine retailers'
shelves?’ He continues: ‘This trend surfaced at the smaller
supermarket chains, and at the retailers who fight it out in the high
street it has become a movement. The big supermarkets have become so
successful at creating own-label brands that the high-street shops and
less competitive chains can survive only if they stock brands. So
Oddbins has placed more emphasis on brands …. Unwins is devoted to
them and Thresher must stock them in order to survive.’ He goes on
to recommend a rather good Madeira.
The
second piece is also on Madeira, this time by Jancis
Robinson.
It’s a nice, Jancis-ish piece on the island’s wines with lots of
up-to-date info and a good list of recommended wines. It ties in
nicely with my on-going series on Madeira
– although Jancis, unlike me, has actually visited the island.
Back to the Blandy’s single harvest I started off with. It’s
a lovely drop, with lots of smoky, tarry, raisiny complexity and good
balancing acidity. I reckon it’s a bargain at £12 or thereabouts
– interestingly, Sainsbury’s website doesn’t list any Madeira at
all (they stock four at my local), so I can’t give you an exact
price right now. I’m looking forward to another glass of this
tonight.
Sunday 9th
November
Apologies for the lack of updates, but it’s the weekend
of our move. As I write, on Sunday afternoon, we have just finished
shifting the last of our possessions from our rental house to our new
home. The 'new home' is still a work in progress. That is, it’s a
building site without any sinks, baths or showers, and no hot water.
We do have a toilet, however, so we should be grateful that there
won’t be any trips to the garden with a spade and a loo roll.
Despite the amount of work still to be done and the alarming condition
of our budget, I’m delighted with the new house. It has more space
than we need (the ground floor of our old house was shorter than our
current kitchen–diner), and I have my own study: a 20 foot loft room
with a nice big window. Into this goes all my wine stuff (a tremendous
amount of paperwork) and my music stuff (three guitars and various
bits of amplification and recording equipment). I’m thrilled, but
knackered—we moved ourselves. We’ve not been drinking anything
special of late. The cheapies we’ve knocked back in our state of
exhaustion have included the following. Peter Lehmann Clancy’s Red
2001 is a glugger that’s a little spoiled by too much American oak.
I don’t mind American oak when it adds spice and a bit of smokiness,
but I dislike it when it veers to the sweet coconut and vanilla end of
the spectrum, flavours often found in Spanish reds. Clancy’s is poor
value at £6.99 and just passable at the Sainsburys offer price of £5.29.
Torres Vina Sol 2002 is a lovely fresh lemony white that I find it
hard to tire of. Unlike the Clancy’s it doesn’t dress itself up in
tarty oak, but just shows good, clean, crisp fruit. Last night there
was the farcical sight of me about to ram the cork into the bottle
with a car key before we realised that there was a cork screw that
hadn’t been packed. Desperate stuff. Finally, Oxford Landing
Chardonnay isn’t much to write home about. Just-adequate buttery
commercial Chardonnay with a rather chemical, bitter finish. It fails
where the Torres succeeds.
Monday 27th
October
Contrasting
wine fortunes over the weekend. On the positive side, I opened one of
my last two bottles of Mas
Bruguière’s La Grenadière 2000, from the Pic St Loup
commune in the Langeudoc. It’s their top cuvee, and a sophisticated
effort with elegant, spicy, meaty fruit combining well with the oak.
Well poised despite its richness. Also a success was possibly the
cheapest wine I’ve had all year – an Asda Minervois NV.
Retailing at £2.77, it’s not as plonkish as you’d expect with a
nice savoury, spicy character to the midweight fruit. There are many
worse wines retailing for twice this price, which is incredible
considering how much the wine inside the bottle (which in this case
was a press sample) will have cost Asda. Less successful was the 1997
vintage Port from Quinta
do Crasto. I can’t explain why this wine is tasting so light and herby at the moment – maybe it’s going through some
weird closed phase. It tastes a bit like a middling LBV, which isn’t
what you’d expect.
I’m
currently on my way home from a vertical tasting of Montevetrano,
tutored by Silvio Imparato herself (estate owner and winemaker, a top
photographer in a previous life). Montevetrano has been described as
the Sassicaia of the southern Naples Hillside by Robert Parker, and is
sought after and expensive. This was the first complete vertical of
all the wines produced, from the 1992 vintage to a cask sample of
2001, and because of the scarcity of the early vintages it’s likely
to be the last. A full report will appear on wineanorak, or course,
but my impression was a favourable one. It’s a wine that has a sense
of place, and doesn’t fit into the ‘international wine’ bracket,
surely a good thing. This is perhaps surprising considering that
consulting here is Ricardo Cotarella. Michael Palij, whose company
Winetraders is the UK agent, maintains that Italy has ‘the most
potent terroir in the world’, but that as a wine producing country
it is ‘in danger of turning its back on its terroir’. He remarked
on how tasting the tri biccheri wines this week he was struck by how
non-Italian they all tasted. Cotarella is seen as a problem, with his
consulting often resulting in international-styled wines.
Montrevetrano is in Palij’s words the ‘least Cotarella-ish’ of
all the wines that Cotarella has consulted for. Strong words, but much
needed, I feel.
Thursday 23rd
October
Had another nice South African Sauvignon last night – Ken
Forrester’s 2002, from Stellenbosch (Oddbins £6.49). I say another, because I’m
increasingly impressed with what South African producers are doing
with both Sauvignon Blanc and Chardonnay, as well as their continued
efforts with the underrated Chenin Blanc. Although the Cape
winelands are pretty hot as wine regions go, winemakers there are
managing to make very impressive Sauvignons with a lovely crisp, fresh
character and nicely defined acidity. In terms of value for money,
they blow most of the competition away. My favourite is the Zondernaam
Sauvignon Blanc: the 2003, tasted last week at Majestic’s press
tasting, has the same sort of excitement and over-the-top nose that
first made Cloudy Bay famous back in the 1990s. It’s a stunning
effort and at only £6.99 I’ll be buying a fair bit. While South
Africa is known mainly for its reds, I’m currently more enthusiastic
about the whites. While Aussie Chardonnay rarely flicks my switches
these days, time and time again I’m finding that the South African
interpretations of this grape hit the mark, with classy oak well
integrated with elegant fruit. And the price is usually right.
Favourites include Warwick, Jordan, Thelema and the impressive Journey’s
End recently released by Kumala. But Chenin Blanc is South
Africa’s most widely planted white grape – traditionally the white
workhorse of the industry – and despite being held in lowly regard,
can produce profound white wines in the right hands. Ken Forrester is
particularly good with this variety (Oddbins stock two inexpensive but
worthy examples by him), and another widely available favourite of
mine is the Villiera Chenin Blanc that sells for £5.99 in
Threshers. Don’t expect Loire-like racy acidity, but the same nutty,
straw-like, slightly cheesy Chenin character is there hiding among the
fruit and (sometimes) oak.
Tuesday 21st October
 I
think our builders and central heating engineers are quite amused by
us. We were due to move in to our new place next weekend, but as
you’ll see from the pictures of the third bedroom (floor is unsound
and the joists will need replacing) and the rear of our over-sized
kitchen–diner (new suspended floor going in), there’s still a
little bit of work to be done. When it came to the point of deciding
between having the central heating finished and running and having a
toilet, we realized it might be wise to stay another week in our
rented house—fortunately, this is still an option.
 Amateur
property developers we may be, but in our defence we didn’t intend
this to be such an involved project. We’re best off doing the big
things that need doing now, though, rather than face further
disruption at a later stage. Whenever you start a project like this,
wise friends always say take your budget and double it. At the time
you think they're talking nonsense, but I'm not so sure now. The same
probably applies to the projected timescale.
I’m hoping there’s enough left of our hard-pressed
budget to buy a wine cabinet with (although the thought did cross my
mind of sinking a cellar of sorts into the kitchen floor). I’ve not
been doing much wine recently with all these upheavals, save for a
characteristically chunky bottle of Elian da Ros’ basic Marmandais
vin de Pays – lots of dense, rather rustic southwestern fruit on
display, backed up by formidable tannic structure. One thing about
Elian's wines is that the corks all seem to have shrunk quite a bit,
with the wine penetrating quite high up (and this bottle or others
like it haven't been heat damaged). I'm wondering about the longevity
of these wines (mine are a mixture of 98s and 99s) because of this.
Wednesday 8th
October
 The race is on to make our house
habitable for the end of the month, which is when we have to leave our
rental property. We went over to see how progress is with the building
work and to plan the central heating system – and this is what our
kitchen currently looks like (right). It's a big Victorian house, but
with big houses come big bills, and our initial budget is being
stretched all over the place. That aside, it's an exciting phase,
although we feel a bit daunted - in fact, it feels like a real life
version of one of those property development programmes which seem to
be on TV every night. No cellar unfortunately, so I'm going to have to
go for a wine cabinet.
Yesterday evening I went to
trendy London eatery Sketch for a dinner launching the Languedoc wines
of Gerard Bertrand. Gerard is a big, athletic looking Frenchman with a
fine head of curly hair, and it came as no surprise to find that
he’s an ex-France Rugby international. The wines are very consistent
and modern, with lots of flavour. He even manages to make a
surprisingly convincing Pinot Noir in the Languedoc. The food? Well, I
was left a little underwhelmed. Very good, and very creative, but the
combinations – such as a lovely fillet of beef topped with slightly
salty, iodiney caviar – didn’t
quite flick my switches. Still, a nice event, I was sitting with some
nice people, and it was a good chance to eat
at Sketch without putting a huge hole in my credit card bill.
Friday 2nd October
 I'm in Tokyo now, staying in a very tall hotel in Shinjuku (I'm
nowhere near the top and it's the 31st floor, picture from my window
is on the right). Shinjuku is a bustling,
lively part of the city, buzzing with energy and more appealing than I
thought it was going to be. I'd like to stay here a bit longer. I
managed to track down a good wine selection at the Isetan department
store. Not quite as smart as the Cave de Yamay in Tsukuba I reported
on below, but still a nice choice. I don't think, though, that wine
matches too well with Japanese food, unless you are quite careful with
the flavours and the wines. Beer is a safer bet, or green tea, even,
if you can live without the alcohol.
Sunday 28th September
I’m in Japan for a conference this week, just arrived this
afternoon. I’m staying for most of the week in Tsukuba, a town not
far from Tokyo. It’s not terribly pretty – at least, not as nice
as Kyoto, which I visited a few years back, but as a university town
it’s got a fairly relaxed feel. I took a wander round and stumbled
into the most fabulous wine shop. It’s not comprehensive, but it’s
very strong on Bordeaux and Burgundy, and has some famous names on the
shelves, all at very respectable prices. There’s Mauro and Valbuena
from Spain, JJ Prum from Germany, a host of top Barolos and
supertuscans, Beaucastel, Guigal and Ferraton from the Rhône,
Clarendon Hills and Lenswood Vineyards from Australia, Calera,
Sainstbury, Ridge, Shafer, Dominus and Togni from the USA, Joly from
the Loire and Zind Humbrecht from Alsace. I bought a 2000 1er Cru 'Les
Damodes' Nuit St Georges from Dominique Laurent for just a tad over £20.
It’s a wine I’m curious about, and I haven’t seen on the shelves
in the UK. On the way out of London I bought a couple of bottles from
Berry Bros at Terminal 4: the Barbeito Single Harvest Madeira 1995 (£13)
and Niepoort Vintage Port 1994 (£23). Unfortunately, I don’t have a
corkscrew, so I can’t enjoy any of them now. Japan is an unusual
country (from a European perspective), but I like it. Its foreignness
is appealing in a world that’s rapidly becoming to look
standardized. I also like the food, although my chopstick technique
with noodles could do with some refining.
Thursday 25th September
I’ve been drinking some good wine recently. On Tuesday night, an
association of winemakers from New Zealand’s Central Otago
put on a dinner for the Circle of Winewriters at the Sugar Club. A
range of wines, including six different Pinot Noirs – the region’s
trump card – were poured, and a delicious four-course menu was
chosen to accompany them. I had fun chatting to Jeff Sinnot
(previously winemaker at Isabel Estate,
now involved in a new project) and Alan Brady (pioneering winegrower
who first planted vines here in 1981). I was also sitting next to
Christian Davis, new editor of Harpers Wine and Spirit Weekly, so it
was good to get a chance to get to know him a bit.
Some impressive wines were on show at the ‘i5’ tasting,
held at the quaintly old-fashioned Traveller’s Club in Pall Mall.
This is an association of five specialist importers, including Raymond
Reynolds (the UK’s premier Portuguese specialists), Winetraders
(mouthwatering Italian list), DMT (David Thomas’ small production Barossa
gems) and Gauntley (Nottingham-based merchant specializing in
the Rhône and Alsace). Some highlights included the spectacular
Macedos 2000 and Redoma 1999 from the Douro; the Bradissimo 1999 and
the impenetrable Binomio 2000 from Inama;
a breathtakingly elegant and balanced Côte Rôtie from a producer
I’d not encountered before and the concentrated but perfectly formed
Spinifex Indigene from the Barossa.
Then, last night, a lovely wine dinner that was organized
as an offline from Mark Squires’ bulletin board. This was one of the
most easy going and successful of the offlines I’ve attended, and
not a bad wine to be found. We kicked off with a Langenbach
Erbacher Marcobrum Auslese ‘Cabinet’ 1949 from the Rheingau.
Now this orange-coloured wine is over 50 years old, but on pouring it
is fresh and fruity, with a nose of apricot and marmalade, together
with some spice. The palate shows more of the spicy apricot flavours,
together with some waxy notes, but it doesn’t show any of the odd
chemical tones that some ancient wines can often develop. It changes
in the glass as we drink it. It’s hard to be objective about an old
wine like this, but I’d rate this as very good/excellent.
The next wine, the Weinbach Riesling Grand Cru
Schlossberg ‘Clos des Capucins’ 1999 from Alsace is chunky and
limey, but rather disappointing. Next up, one of the wines of the
night. Domaine Leflaive’s 2000 Bienvenues Bâtard Montrachet
started off showing toasty, nutty, minerally complexity on the taut
nose, together with elegant acid structure and richness on the palate,
and then just got better and better, displaying layers of complexity
and precise balance. Stunning stuff. This contrasted with the richer,
sweeter, nuttier Kistler Hudson Vineyard Chardonnay 2000 from
Carneros (California). It wasn’t bad by any means, but suffered in
comparison with the Leflaive. Different wines, different cultures. On
to the reds. The 1970 Beaulieu Vineyards George de Latour Private
Reserve is still drinking very well after 33 years – there
aren’t many Californian reds that can boast this. Very soft, sweet
tarry fruit with spicy American oak providing a cushion. We turned our
gaze temporarily to Bordeaux. The
1988 Château Palmer from Margaux followed – this was showing
appealing, minerally fruit with a touch of greenness, together with
high acidity. The Château Gruaud Larose 1982 (St Julien) was
showing badly according to some who had drunk this recently, but I
enjoyed the soft, dense fruit and spicy minerality. It’s got life in
it yet. Unfortunately the 1986 Léoville Barton was hard, taut
and closed, if classic in its proportions. The 1995 Angelus is
a serious drop: although it is clearly made in a forward, almost new
world style, there’s plenty of firm structure here. One for the
future? Time to return to California, first with the Venge Family
Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon 1994 from Oakville in Napa. Bold,
characterful and forward with lots of ripe spicy fruit – a tasty
drop with real appeal. This was bettered by the 1995 Phelps
Insignia, which was seamlessly lush and concentration. No edges
here, and a sexy style. One participant described it as a ‘booty
wine’. Peter Michael’s Les Pavots 1996 is an altogether
more restrained, structured wine making more than a passing nod to
Bordeaux. Great balance and quite classy. Finally from the USA, we
head up to Washington State, for the Quilceda Creek Cabernet Sauvignon
2000. This shows remarkable pure, fully ripe fruit, but is a bit hot
from the high alcohol levels (disclosed as 14.9% on the label). The
final two reds were new cult Douro wines from Portugal. The 1999
Batuta is a serious, structured wine that’s lost just a little
of the initial lushness of the fruit and is starting to develop some
taut herbal complexity. Firm tannins. It will be interesting to see
how this inaugural vintage develops. The Pintas 2001 is very
different in character, showing lush, complex herby fruit with smooth,
silky tannins and great concentration. Very tasty in a new world sort
of style yet still reflecting the personality of the Douro. To finish
off with we enjoyed a wonderful German Riesling TBA from 1976 (Winkeler
Hasensprung Lundgräflich Hessiches Riesling TBA 1976, Rheingau)
that was full of life, and a disappointing 1970 Quinta do Noval
vintage Port that was a bit awkward and shot.
Sunday 21st September
It's been a lovely weekend. Bizarrely hot, for London in late
September, in the high twenties centigrade. On Saturday we had a
picnic lunch in nearby Bushey Park (a Royal Park between Teddington,
Kingston and Hampton Court). There's a lovely woodland walk section,
and despite the hot weather, it was relatively quiet. We heard some
rustling in the bushes, and so we stopped and looked around. Out
popped a young fox, just a few feet away from us. He looked at us, but
didn't seem to flustered, and sat down. We'd eaten most of our food
but we had an apple left, which we dropped in front of him. He picked
it up, glanced our way, and then pottered off. I like these encounters
with nature. Last year in Tenerife I had a wild lizard come and eat
out of my hand - that was fun. Wine wise, it's been a bit of an off
couple of days - last night I opened two bottles which both were
showing very badly, past their best. First, the Quinta dos Roques
Reserva Dão 1997. I'd have expected this to be hitting its
stride, but it's all awkward acid and tannin edges, and hard work. The
1998 Coudoulet de Beaucastel was basically over the hill, with
leathery caramel aromas and a bit of a baked quality. Kept too long or
heat damage?
The big news, though, is that I have landed my first book
deal. I signed the contract and the advance cheque will soon be in
the post. I had a number of options, but I wanted to go with the
leading wine book publisher, Mitchell Beazley, who publish the World
Atlas of Wine, among others. I've been chatting to the commissioning
editor for quite a while, but we've finally found the right project
and now I've got to research and write it. I'll keep you posted, but
that's all I'm saying for now.
Friday 19th September
The tasting season is now in full swing, and if you are a wine
writer with half decent credentials living in London, you get more
invites to tastings than you know what to do with. I could happily
spend the next fortnight tasting wine virtually without a break. Well,
it wouldn’t be ‘happily’ – it’s actually quite hard work if
you approach it with an anorak-like thoroughness. Because of time
constraints, I’m having to pick and choose what I attend. I’ve
passed on the generic Chile and Argentina tastings this year, because
I went to them last time round and they are areas I’m relatively
strong and up to date in. Since I have a newspaper column to write
every week (albeit a fairly modest one), supermarket tastings are
important events. I was at the Tesco press tasting yesterday, and next
week it’s Sainsbury, followed by Waitrose. Unfortunately I’m going
to be in Japan for the M&S and Asda events, but I’ll be back for
the Co-op. Today I spent an hour at the Vintage Roots tasting at the
Landmark Hotel. I like Vintage Roots – they are a mail-order and
internet retailer specializing in organic wines, and as well as being
a friendly bunch they have some lovely wines. My favourites include
the following. First, the biodynamic wines from VOE
in Chile, with their rich, lush fruit and excellent balance. Next, the
wonderfully expressive dry Chenin from Huet in the Loire. I was also
very keen on the biodynamic wines from James Millton in New Zealand,
especially the two Chardonnays and the Chenin Blanc. Some of the top
end reds from Albert I Noya in Penedes stood out for their dense,
tannic fruit and huge concentration. Sweet wine lovers should check
out the complex, delicious Sauissignacs from Domaine Richard. Finally,
there’s a brilliantly juicy biodynamic red from Domaine St Nicolas
that Vintage Roots are selling under their own label. Full report to
follow.
Monday 15th September
The good news is that after a whole series of hitches and hassles,
we’ve finally exchanged on our house purchase and are due to
complete in a week’s time. Then begins the enormous task of getting
it ready to live in. But we’re just delighted to have finally got
there. A bit of advice for anyone considering moving: don’t unless
you have to. It’s incredibly stressful, and you end up shelling out
serious sums of money to people who haven't earned it. (Like the
government, estate agents and conveyancers.) I’ve been on a bit of a
lucky run recently with wine, too. First a Ch Montus Madiran 1998
from Alain Brumont. Man, this is a beast of a wine – dense, tannic
and spicy; a fearsome concoction that might be ready to drink in a
decade. I love its challenging, savoury character, combined with the
dense fruit. Serious stuff, and typically southwestern France in
nature. The second wine was quite different: the Ch des Tours
Reserve 2000 Côtes du Rhône. This is the essence of Grenache,
with a sweet, voluptuous fruity nose that has a distinctive peppery
edge. Is there a bit of cinnamon, too? This is a lovely wine that just
screams Southern Rhône, and punching well above its weight as a Côtes
du Rhône. Grenache is a funny grape, but this is what it does so
well. Not a blockbuster, but a very authentic wine – this was the
second of a sixpack I bought from a recent Bibendum sale. Another
purchase from the Bibendum sale has also proved satisfying. This was
the Les Demoiselles de Lavabre Pic St Loup 1999, a Languedoc
wine. The tyranny of vintage charts is that if you researched Pic St
Loup in 1999, you’d have found that it was a very difficult vintage
in this region, and so you’d have steered clear. But this wine,
without being profound, is really satisfying with midweight elegant
black and berry fruits with a distinctive meaty, spicy twang. Tasted
blind, I’ve had thought this was a good quality St Joseph from the
Northern Rhône. It’s drinking very well now with a bit of steak.
What more do you want from a wine?
Thursday 11
September
In everyone's thought's today is that fateful day two years ago. It
seems that the world is now a different place to the way
it was when we woke up on September 11th 2001.
I often get asked what my
favourite wine is. For a true geek, I suspect this is a question
that’s almost impossible to answer. I give a stock answer – Côte
Rôie from a good producer – although in truth, I have dozens of
favourite wines. A lot depends on the mood I’m in, and what I choose
to drink is a combination of this and, of course, availability.
Availability isn’t great at the moment because my cellar is packed
up in boxes waiting for our house move, but last night I managed to
grab a bottle that satisfied my mood perfectly. It was the 1998
Glenguin Orange Vineyard Cabernet Sauvignon. Glenguin is a
boutique producer in Australia's Hunter Valley whose wines I first
tasted when I was out there in March
2000. For this wine Robin Tedder looked to the relatively cool
Orange region in the New South Wales Highlands. The first thing that
hits you is the nose: it’s huge, with an aromatic blend of tar,
fruit, balsamic vinegar, mint and menthol, together with some exotic
spices. But it isn’t overly sweet or jammy. The palate is hugely
concentrated, and while this can be an overrated virtue, it works here
because the balance between the rich, spicy fruit, the oak, and the
firm acidity works very well. In fact, the wine is just at that stage
where the fruit has crept back a little to reveal the earthy, spicy
non-fruit components – any longer and I think that the acid and
tannins will take hold and the balance will be lost. I’ve had some
of the older Lindemans Hunter River Shiraz bottlings were at 10 years
this has happened: the fruit has receded and the acidity is left
sticking out. But for now, this is a wonderfully characterful, savoury
wine of real interest and appeal. It’s obviously Australian, but
then you’d expect it to be – call it ‘terroir’ if you will.
Friday 5th
September
It’s been a long week, dominated for me by sorting out the sticking
points that have bedevilled our house purchase (regular blog readers
will know that we are currently in rented accommodation). It’s not
quite sorted, but it’s almost there, and barring last minute
problems we’ll be exchanging next week. If you are thinking of
moving, my advice is don’t unless you absolutely have to. It’s a
surprisingly stressful business. On the wine front, I went to a really
interesting tasting today. Organized by Tom Stevenson to mark the
launch of Wine Report 1994 (a new book, but I can’t tell you about
it just yet because its contents are embargoed until later in the
month), it consisted of just 18 wines. But these wines were chosen for
their weirdness, uniqueness, originality or some other such
characteristic that set them apart. Weirdest wine of the tasting was
undoubtedly Miyazaki Tsuno’s Campbell Early Rosé 2002, from Japan.
It’s a vivid pink wine from the hybrid Campbell Early grape, and
tastes remarkably like sweet strawberry jelly. There was also a
Chinese wine that was a whole lot more serious, the Dragon Seal Syrah
2000 from Huailai, near the Great Wall. It’s savoury and spicy, with
a distinctive minerality and just a touch of herbaceousness. Best
value wine of the tasting was the lovely fresh Domaine Gerovassiliou
2002 from Greece, which Oddbins stocks at £6.49. This was quite
delicious and brilliantly poised. I was bowled over by the Zind Z001
from Zind Humbrecht, an Alsace wine that’s been declassified to a
Vin de Table because of its Chardonnay component. This was packed with
complex herbal flavours: really intense and a snip at £13 (from
Anthony Byrne, UK agent). It was cask fermented with natural yeasts.
Another striking white was the Arbois Naturé from Frederic Lornet,
which is intense, savoury and clean, made from the Savagnin grape. It’s
not available in the UK, alas.
Monday 1st
September
It’s the first day of September today, which I always think of as a
month of transition: it has one foot in summer, another in Autumn.
This morning, September is definitely showing its summer face, with
bright blue skies and a very comfortable temperature. I see any warm
sunny days we get from now on are seen as a sort of bonus—a freebie
from nature. The September transition also acts as a reminder of how
life is cyclical. One season follows another. Life begins, it ends and
it starts again. The vine uses up the last of its energy to ripen this
year’s crop, and then dies until next spring. In our modern society
we have insulated ourselves from the changing seasons, largely to our
detriment. Yes, we can get strawberries in February or tomatoes in
December, but is it worth trading this year round sameness and endless
availability for the natural wisdom of the changing seasons? Goodness,
I’m beginning to sound like a hippy, or a disciple of Nicolas Joly.
I’m neither, I assure you. It’s just that there’s a richness
that comes from seasonal changes – each of them have their own
characteristics and positive qualities – and our modern way of
living tends to buffer these natural variations, homogenizing life
into a year-round sameness. Fortunately, the wine world constantly
reminds us of seasons. Unlike most other beverages, wine isn’t ‘manufactured’.
It is fashioned from the starting materials – the grapes – which
largely determine the potential quality of the final product in a way
that the starting materials for other drinks almost always can’t
match. The focus of fine wine is therefore very much on the vineyard,
and not the winery, although it would be fairly barmy to discount the
importance of competent, skilled winemaking in guiding the taste of
the final product. This is reflected in the importance of vintages. Of
course, wine branders and mass retailers would like to do away with
vintages altogether because of their inconvenience. I suspect they’d
quite like to cut the tie wine has with the soil altogether. The
awkwardness of dealing with a product so close to nature is a problem
for modern retailing. But it’s the heart of wine.
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