[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. ]
Sunday 12th June 2005
A
remarkable experience to report: today I flew for the first time.
‘Flew’, that is, in the sense that I was in charge of the
controls, moving in three dimensions a long way off the ground. Back
in November Fiona bought me a 40 minute microlight flight as a
birthday present, and today we trundled down to Popham Air Centre near
Winchester (www.flyingschool.tv)
for the big experience. I wasn’t terribly nervous – even though
the microlight looked rather small and flimsy. Take off was quicker
than you’d think, and before long the ground was a long way below.
Instructor Steve asked whether I liked fairground rides and then
proceeded to demonstrate some rather alarming stunts that first,
scared me stiff, and second induced a state of semi-nausea. But after
this it was all good fun, and I was given the stick (or whatever the
term for the thing that controls the plane) and coached on the art of
flying. The key thing about flying seems to be maintaining a sense of
orientation, even when you are moving in three dimensions.
Particularly with some of the more dramatic manoeuvers, it’s easy to
become disorientated. Apart from that, the only other thing that would
stop me from doing this more often would be that I’m cursed by a
relative susceptibility to motion sickness. After 40 minutes, and an
absolutely perfect landing later, I felt pretty fragile. But what an
experience.
I’m flying again tomorrow, but on something much
bigger, and I won’t be in the cockpit. Off to Portugal, and more
specifically the Alentejo. I’m looking forward to another visit to
one of my favourite wine-producing countries. I’ll report back in
detail, of course, and depending on the level of internet access I
have, I’ll try to do some road reports.
Wednesday 8th June
Tonight I’m going to be tackling the final proofs of wine
science – just a few corrections, plus some tidying up to do
after a completely unnecessary redesign (a long story I won’t bore
you with). You must buy this book when it’s finally released. It’s
the sort of book I’d like to read: no one else had written it, so I
did, but now there’s not much point me reading it, because I wrote
it. The dilemma for wine book publishing is this: any book interesting
enough for someone like me or you (as a reader of this page, you have
an abnormally high interest in wine: congratulations you freak!)
isn’t going to sell enough copies to make it an interesting
financial proposition for readers. So the market is there for books
with broad appeal, only if the appeal is too broad then potential
readers might not be interested enough in the topic to shell out their
cash. It leads to a very repetitious set of offerings. In today’s
current climate, wine book retailers are happy just breaking even on a
project! Perhaps the answer is to have books ghost written by lowly
paid expert writers, but with a wine celebrity’s name on the cover.
Wait a minute, you mean this is already done? Surely not…
To help me with the proofs, I’m going to be dinking a
rather special wine that I started last night – it’s the 2003
Vintage Port from Pintas.
I tried a cask sample when I visited last May; now it is bottled, and
it’s an impressive Port. The hallmark is lots of concentration
together with a lot of spicy structure: one for the long haul. This is
the first Vintage Port from Pintas, so there’s no track record here
yet, but I’d place this up alongside the best from the vintage.
Tuesday 7th June
For the last couple of nights I’ve been working my way slowly
through Tim Adams’ Clare Valley Riesling 2004. It’s a
really nice wine: crisp, refreshingly tart and with precisely focused
lemony fruit. It’s got me thinking. When we drink wine, what we get
from the experience depends in large part what we bring to it, in
terms of our own inward state, physical tasting apparatus (nose,
tongue, soft palate, even eyes) and the way we attend to the tasting
process. I can influence what I get out of the wine. With one sip I
can get one impression; five minutes later I can get another. If
someone tells me a bit about Clare Valley Riesling, this is likely to
shape my experience of the wine. It’s a bit like the ‘Where’s
Wally’ kids books: faced with a complicated picture with lots of
characters in it, you’re supposed to pick out the guy with the red
and black stripy jumper. Unless someone told you to look for Wally,
however, you’d just be looking at a complicated picture.
This leads on to another point. I’ve been writing a
piece for Wine International on closures. Part of this is a
discussion of the data from the International Wine Challenge faults
clinic. One data point interested me a great deal: the frequency of
reduction faults in screwcapped wines. Altogether 800 screwcapped
wines were opened, and just one showed reduction. [Reduction refers to
sulphur-like odours which have been shown to be a problem occurring
with greater frequency in screwcapped wines because of the super-tight
seal – there’s an article in last month’s Wine International on
this which can be found at www.wineint.com.]
What’s happening here? Has the problem of screwcap reduction been
exaggerated? Possibly. It’s also possible that the tasters simply
didn’t spot the reduced wines, in part because they haven’t been
trained to look for reduction (in much the same way that corked wines
are often happily consumed at dinner parties), in part because even
under blind conditions it is possible to spot a screwcapped bottle
because if the thread, and we all know that screwcapped bottles are
taint free. Another interesting statistic is that 2.9% of the wines
sealed with synthetic corks showed musty taint (described in the data
from the faults clinic as TCA). But that’s another story.
Friday 3rd June
Some big news. I'm delighted to have landed the job of wine writer
for the Sunday Express. The wine column is a full page in S
Magazine, and consists of five recommended wines, usually arranged
around the food theme of Anthony Worral-Thompson's column, plus an
answer to a reader's question each week. [I'm sure wineanorak readers could come up with
some amusing or interesting (yet relevant) readers' questions!] My
first column will be on July 10th. So here you have the mild-mannered
Jamie Goode, by day a bit of a technical wine science guy, in the
early evening a full-on wine nut with an interest in eclectic, artisanal
and fine wines, and then by night a popular wine journalist who
tries to enthuse the masses about this wonderful, life-enhancing
liquid. That's a lot of hats to be wearing, for sure. It's tremendous
fun, but I'm under no illusions: I'm still learning about wine. Still
a learner. Mustn't forget.
As
I write, I'm sipping a modest yet enjoyable bottle. It's one of a
six-pack of the Domaine de Lavabre Coteaux du Languedoc 2000, which I
purchased on the cheap a couple of years back, and have been negligent
in attending to. This is a wine that has evolved very nicely. It's
robust and chunky, with peppery, earthy, spicy fruit. Quite tannic,
and not too fruity. It won't win medals, but it does the job. If this
was a football, golf or tennis player, it would be described (rather
unfairly) as a journeyman. Sometimes that's all you want from a
wine.
Monday 30th May
Two 2003 reds to mention from a gorgeous bank holiday weekend,
much of it spent in the garden. We're currently looking after two
guinea pigs for friends, and together with our two rabbits and two
cats, our garden is beginning to look like a holding pen for Noah's
ark. The cats are fascinated by the guinea pigs; while they are
generally a bit cautious of the rabbits, they see the guinea pigs as
their best ever dinner, and spend hours staring into the cage, first
having assumed a stalking posture.
The
reds in question stem from Napa's Carneros and France's Southern
Rhône. One I liked a lot, the other just a bit. We begin with Sainstbury's
Garnet Pinot Noir 2003 (from Carneros in California). It's
Sainstbury's entry level Pinot, but I like it possible more than their
higher-end wines, which are lovely also, but perhaps not quite as
fresh and delicate. It's almost Burgundian (in a ripe, full-on, modern
Burgundian sense) with lovely balance between the ripe fruit and the
subtly green, slightly undergrowthy spicy structure. This is the wine
to drink while watching Sideways (even though it isn't from the region
Jack and Miles tour in the film); it's the wine to give someone new to
wine to hook them onto Pinot Noir. £10.99 from Majestic.
The
second wine is the Perrin's Mule Blanche Cairanne 2003, a
Côtes du Rhône Villages. This for me shows once again that 2003
wasn't a fantastic vintage in the Southern Rhône. Good, but not
great. You get the full-on, ripe fruit blast, which is very alluring.
But then on the peppery spicy palate the tannins just close in on your
mouth with a vice-like grip and never let go. There's something
fundamentally amiss in the balance of this wine; I like it, but it
isn't top-notch. This is another Majestic purchase, at around £8 if I
remember correctly.
Managed
to spend a short while at the allotment, tending the vines - these
have recovered quite well from the frost damage, with just a couple of
casualties. Now the snails are tucking in, but there's enough green
growth to mean that their damage won't be too problematic. In a rather
unresearched and rudimentary attempt at IPM (integrated pest
management), I'm leaving the borders of the patch a little while to
encourage the presence of beneficials. Knowing my luck, they'll just
act as refuge areas for pests.
Thursday 26th May
Two
contrasting new world reds to consider. First, Michel Rolland's
impressive Clos de los Siete 2003 from Argentina's Mendoza. My note
reads as follows:
Clos de los Siete 2003 Mendoza, Argentina
From seven vineyards in the foothills of the Andes, this is an
ambitious red wine; the project is managed by Michel Rolland. It’s a striking wine. Very
dark colour. Intoxicating sweet nose of liqueur-like blackcurrants and red
fruits. Very pure and sweet with a spicy edge: quite like a young vintage
port. The palate is sweet with a rounded, roasted character and a spicy
edge. It finishes dry with a spicy edge and some drying effect from the
alcohol. This is a delicious forward wine for current consumption, but the
combination of a firm, spicy, rather drying tannic structure and some
alcoholic heat on the finish suggests this is not one for cellaring. This
aside, there's no denying that this is a very seductive wine with
wonderful purity to the fruit. Very good/excellent 91/100 (£10.99
Majestic, £8.99 if you buy two)
Then,
in striking contrast, last night I opened Alan Limmer's Stonecroft
Syrah 2002, from New Zealand's Hawkes Bay. Rather than open,
expansive, sweet lush fruit, this is much more European in profile,
with structure and in particular high acidity keeping the concentrated
red and black fruits in shape. There's some ripeness to the fruit, but
it doesn't have the sweet, almost jammy profile of the los Siete. It's
a wine to sip and reflect with, not one that reveals itself
immediately. I guess many would call the los Siete 'sexy', but that's
because it's appeal is immediate - it's scantily clad and in-yer-face.
But perhaps I actually find the slightly reticent, part-hidden appeal
of the Stonecroft more sexy, in a way. Stretching the analogy perhaps
a little too far, It's the difference between a relationship and a
one-night stand. (The Stonecroft is £14.99 from Oddbins and
worth it.)
Earlier
in the evening I stopped by the Rhône 2003 tasting at fine wine
merchants Charles Taylor. My impressions from this sampling is that
it's not a great vintage in either the Southern or Northern Rhône. I
found the same characteristics in many of the wines I've had from
across France in this heat affected vintage: very sweet, almost jammy
red fruits on the nose, which are initially quite alluring. But then
on the palate, there's a disconnect with the almost severe tannic
structure. At the moment, the sweet fruit masks the tannins to a
degree, and there will be many immensely appealing wines made for
current drinking. But at the higher end, you could end up cellaring
wines which five years down the road, when the fruit recedes a bit,
will be horridly out of balance. This is a generalization, of course,
but I've noticed it in wines from Bordeaux, Burgundy (especially), and
the Southern and Northern Rhône. My policy is that 2003 is a vintage
where I'm concentrating on delicious inexpensive wines: I'm giving the
big guns a miss. Also had a chance to retaste the 2003
Vintage Ports from the Fladgate and Symington groups. Taylor's was
showing better than when I tasted it a couple of weeks back, but the
others showed similarly.
Monday 23rd May
Time for another tasting counter review - recent bottles drunk,
and one yet to pop. (1) Ch Montus 1998 Madiran is one of those
sturdy, tannic wines that is probably nevery going to age into
mellowness. Instead, you have to enjoy it for what it is: big,
muscular, savoury and raw. I like this southwestern style a lot. (2)
The Millenium Dolc 2002 Terras Alta, Spain is Xavier Clua's
remarkable sweet Grenache made from grapes harvested in November.
Masses of ripe, sweet fruit - possibly profound. A special wine. (Cadman
Fine Wines) (3) Jacobs Creek Shiraz Grenache 2004 - not bad for
a cheap branded wine with nice fruit purity. I quite enjoyed it. This
was less than £3.50 in a supermarket promotion. (4) La Vigne
Mythique 1999 is a sort of international styled Gaillac. It's got
that lovely Gaillac rawness of bloody, earthy red fruits, but this is
tamed by some oak influence. Nice, but I think it's probably better
fresher and rawer. Purchased from Les Caves de Pyrene. (5) Fattoria
La Fonti Chianti Classico Riserva, not opened yet. (6) Domenic
Torzi's Frost Dodger Shiraz 2003, which you can read about here.
Available from The Cellar Door and Bordeaux Index. (7) Righetti's
Capitel de' Roari Amarone 2000 is a very traditional styled
savoury, herby, earthy Amarone, with some refinement, too. Thought
provoking, but just fails to excite me, alas. From Bat & Bottle.
(8) Sticking with Italy, Macaulan's Dindarello 2004 is a more-ish
Muscat-based sweet wine with nice fruity freshness. Very clean and
fresh. Just a shade under £8 from Oddbins. (9) The empty bottle of 1963
Niepoort Vintage Port that I brought back from the recent dinner
(see below). (10) 1999 Quinta do Vale D. Maria Vintage Port
started out a little light, but after a few hours it put on weight and
emerged as a satisfyingly rich, spicy wine with good balance. The
second of a six-pack that I got cheap in a Bibendum sale. I'll carry
on drinking these over the next few years, I suspect. Didn't bother to
decant; there wasn't too much crud at the bottom. (11) Alain
Graillot's 2001 Crozes Hermitage is drinking well now; it's shed
its early fruit and is very savoury and pleasingly tart. (12) The
newly-bottled (as yet unlabelled) Frost Dodger Riesling 2005
from Domenic Torzi. Made from Eden Valley fruit, fermented with wild
yeasts. It's tight and youthful, but bursting with some mineralic
complexity and I suspect there's a bright future ahead for this
intense wine. (13) M&S Bourgogne Pinot Noir 2003 - a very
satisfying, ripe, inexpensive red Burgundy. Lots of interest here, and
a bargain at the offer price of £5.59.
Friday 20th May
Friday
night and I'm feeling very weary. I'm tired to my bones. Don't know
why. Reasonably early nights on Wednesday and Thursday, coupled with
moderate consumption of wine, should have left me with some residual
energy despite the crazy start to the week. Tonight I'll resume the
bottle of 95 Fortia Chateauneuf du Pape, which was a bit evolved and
not as impressive as the last time I tried it. It's a funny business,
drinking wine. All that variety, but sometimes it's hard to find just
the wine to match your mood.
It's
been a lousy few weeks for my grapevines. I have about 50 on the
allotment, 20 in the back garden. The ones on the allotment are always
a bit behind the garden ones, because they are more exposed. But a few
weeks back the new growth got badly frost-burned, twice. I think some
of the younger ones might die. A shame, but I'm thinking of replacing
many of the whites with some more Pinot Noir. I like the idea of
making red wines; whites are great, but they need more sophisticated
winemaking technology than I possess (or am likely to possess), unless
I go for something totally artisanal, perhaps involving some extended
maceration. With reds, you get to play a bit more. It'll be a job
getting ripe phenolics to play with, but it's worth a try. There's no
point in making OK wine - you can buy this cheaply at your local
supermarket. You have to make something with personality if you are
going to do it yourself.
Wednesday 18th May
I feel fresher than I have any right to today after last night’s
Niepoort dinner at St John. I got home via the last tube and a bus
ride at 2 am, clutching an empty bottle of Niepoort 1963 Vintage Port
(it’s sad, but I have small collection of interesting empty bottles
in my study) – I can only guess the assumptions my fellow travellers
must have made.
I’m going to write up last night’s proceedings in
full in the next week or so, but for now I’ll just tease you with a
brief sketch of the wines. We kicked off with a brilliantly complex
white port from 1917, which was bottled in 1927. Bizarre but
wonderful. Next up the 2001 Niepoort Rosé, which was showing very
well, and new white wine Tiara (fresh, crisp, quite minerally – a
Riesling with no Riesling in it). An abrupt jump to the 2003 Redoma
Branco Reserva followed: this is delicious in a rich style with some
classy oak, but still expressive. Three reds all showed quite well:
the 2002 Charme, 2003 Batuta (cask sample) and the 2001 Redoma. The
latter is a fantastic wine: a bit wild, with lots of tannin and acid
and currently very savoury and tight. What a wine: this, for me, is an
archetypal Douro red.
Then the Ports: 1963 Colheita and 1963 Vintage. Both
fantastic and rather different wines, drinking perfectly now, and the
vintage Port still with some life ahead of it. Then the 2003s: the
Niepoort Vintage (stunning, structured) and Secundum.
To eat, a rather good pigeon and pigs trotter pie, which was complemented
brilliantly by the Redoma 01 and the Charme 02 – both very different
styles – you wouldn’t think they were from the same region.
Tonight, a quiet night in beckons invitingly. (Pictured is Dirk in
full flow, flanked by Jancis Robinson [near] and Sara Jane Evans.)
Tuesday
17th May
Feeling a touch sluggish today after a late night.
Yesterday evening Dirk Niepoort and I shared some wines at Tendido
Cero – my favourite London tapas joint, which happily allows diners
to bring their own wines. I supplied three wines, a half bottle of
Trimbach’s CFE 1999, and two sturdy reds: Lafran Veyrolles Bandol
Cuvée Longue Garde 1999, and Sam Harrop/Tom Lubbe’s Matassa
2002 from the Roussillon. I had the reds decanted and served
them blind, but alas, the Matassa was horridly corked.
Dirk provided a lovely mature Burgundy – a 1986 Armand Rousseau
(alas, I can’t remember which one) and a half of Domaine
Drouhin’s 2000 Pinot Noir. Great food, plenty of good wine and a
chance to pick the brains of one of the planet’s most interesting
producers, who’s a wine geek to boot – a very pleasant evening.
Earlier in the day I lunched with another interesting
person, this time a Norwegian professor of philosophy whose specialist
field is aesthetics. He’s currently writing a book about the
philosophy of wine appreciation in collaboration with one of his
colleagues.
I must fortify myself, though, for another late night.
It’s the official annual Dirk Niepoort dinner tonight, for which we
return to St John, currently a highly trendy eaterie which I visited
for the first time last month. I’m looking forward to trying 2003
Niepoort Ports, among other things. I’m sure there will be plenty of
interesting wines. Perhaps even a Douro Riesling?
Monday
16th May
It's strange how places or events sometimes cluster. For me, this
weekend centred on Teddington. We went to The Park, a restaurant
there, to celebrate Fiona's birthday on Saturday. Lovely ambience -
informal, modern and quite sytlish. The food was pretty poor, though.
My red mullet was a bit muddy, served on a bed of over-flavoured
basil-infused mash and surrounded by a ring of what tasted
suspiciously like Campbell's cream of tomato soup. Fiona's seared
scallops were wrapped in salty bacon that completely overwhelmed them.
Still, the Ropiteau Chablis we ordered was very tasty and fairly well
priced at £16. I think this is the sort of place where you order the
steak frites. Back to Teddington yesterday for a nice afternoon in
Bushey Park, followed by a trip to Teddington Memorial Hospital with a
suspected fractured wrist (I'd done the injury earlier in the day, but
it kept getting worse, and Teddington has a walk-in NHS service that's
loads quicker than our nearest A&E). Their X-ray machine wasn't
working, so I was told to go back this morning. Only I didn't, because
it's feeling a bit better, and they've given me a really good
splint-like device that keeps the wrist from moving. I'll go back if
it doesn't clear up soon.
The
key thing is that I got home in time for Match of the day.
Football talk. So, the last day of the premiership season yesterday.
An eventful one, with four teams fighting to avoid filling the three
relegation berths, and City with a chance to go into the UEFA cup next
season if they finished seventh. To do this they had to beat
Middlesborough. It's 1-1 and the game is in injury time. City win a
penalty. All Robbie Fowler has to do is to score from 12 yards and
we're there. He doesn't. Groan. Still, 8th is a very good position,
and things are looking good for next season. It's a good time to be a
blue.
Pain
killing: a bottle of Bourgogne Rouge 2003 from Marks & Spencer (on
offer at £5.83). Very ripe and appealing with a spicy tannic
bite on the finish (this is something I'm finding on many 03s from
various French regions). A really good cheap Burgundy.
Wednesday
11th May
Went
to a really interesting tasting at the Travellers Club on Pall Mall.
It was an extensive vertical tasting of the wines of Sonoma producer
Joseph Swan, one of the pioneers of grown-up Zinfandel in the 1970s.
It was hosted by Richards Walford, the UK agents. In attendance was
proprietor Ron Berglund, son-in-law of Swan who established the winery
back in the 1960s. [The Travellers Club is pretty traditional, so we
gents had to wear a jacket and tie, which added to the sense of
occasion.] Now I was previously unfamiliar with Joseph Swan, but I'm
glad I made the acquaintance. These are not true-to-type for
Californian, if what you are expecting is lots of ripe fruit, plenty
of oak and relatively low acid. Instead, they are almost all pretty
serious, restrained wines that age brilliantly. We tasted four
Chardonnays from four decades back to 1977 and all were showing really
well. A flight of Estate Cabernet Sauvignons went back to the early
70s almost all displaying wonderful development and balance. A short
flight of Pinot Noir was really impressive, but perhaps the eye opener
for me was the large flight of Zinfandels back to the 1960s. They
weren't all great, but most of them were! The balance,
structure and acidity of these wines was really refreshing. They're
wines not made to be showy or overtly fruity when young, but they have
the stuffing to age really well. Serious Zinfandel? Whatever
next!
Sunday
8th May
I've been suffering for the last couple of days. But then it's all
my own fault. On Friday I played cricket for the Wine Trade XI against
a club side from Coggeshall in Essex. The Wine Trade team is a mixed
bag. Some very good players, some less so. Some regular players, some
occasional. I'm in the latter category both times. Anyway, I enjoy
playing in this fixture each year, so much so that I wanted to play
even though I have a hamstring problem. It had got a lot better so I
sort of kidded myself I'd be OK. I get given the second over to bowl,
and run in off the usual run up. Only, I didn't really run, more sort
of hobble. I didn't disgrace myself though - and for me, the most
realistic goal is not to disgrace myself - bowling five overs and
conceding 20 runs. They scored 300 for about four wickets (a couple of
which were likely thrown when their batsmen reached half centuries,
the sort of thing no one wants in a game), and so we thought we'd be
on the way to a hiding. Instead, our batting was pretty good, and we
ended up losing by just 40 runs. If we'd had more able fielding (about
four of our team, including myself, couldn't run for various reasons,
including being crocked, being out of condition, and being very old),
and our bowlers hadn't sent down about two dozen full tosses, then it
would have been another story. I won't mention my appalling batting
performance. It wasn't helped by three or four fortifying glasses of
red wine at lunch - a feature of these matches is that each wine trade
person contributes a couple of bottles of wine as well as their match
fee, which both teams eagerly glug down. David Williams, Harpers'
deputy editor, gets my vote for our most entertaining player. He was
wearing a very stylish set of whites (white jeans, a T-shirt and a zip
top) together with a crowning glory - a navy blue flat cap made out of
some sort of fleece material. David's contribution with the ball
started badly, but he ended up putting in a creditable spell,
including a wicket. His vinous contribution was the most remarkable,
though: a bottle of Krug. Fantastically generous, but it would have
been wasted on such an occasion, so he got to take it home with him. I
didn't take notes on the wines drunk, but I sampled a beefy if
viciously overoaked Concannon Syrah (Central Coast, California), a
lovely Tagus Creek Trincadeira/Syrah from Portugal (a real bargain at
a fiver from Majestic), a pleasant Cork Grove Castelão Merlot from
Casa Cadaval in the Ribatejo (Portugal; both these Portuguese wines
coming from Nick Oakley, who organized the game and who, at 47, was
still the best of our bowlers by some distance with his brisk medium
pace), and a light fresh M&S Macon Villages 2003. Anyway, now I'm
really crocked and can hardly walk. All my own fault.
Previous entries
Back to top
|