st.pierre ON WINE

Free-marketing

2011-11-10T08:44:00.003Z

Everybody’s talking about creating jobs, but marketing departments, ever busy, are actually doing something about it. . .
       The Co-Op supermarket chain has introduced a new flavour of crisps (chips, to my American friends), just what a discerning world has been waiting for: Sea Salt and Chardonnay Wine Vinegar.
       Constellation, formerly one of the world’s largest wine businesses, has sold off most of its portfolio, including Australian brands like Hardys and U.S. brands like Paul Masson, Echo Falls, Robert Mondavi, and Ravenswood. The sort-of new company has been renamed Accolade, a name that “reflects our global mission,” say the new owners, who have just launched Echo Falls Spritz, a mix of wine and sparkling water, in cans; there are two flavours so far, Zinfandel and Pinot Grigio.
       Bordeaux is to re-claim the word “claret,” long a British generic term for red Bordeaux wine, and use it for lesser wines, or as a spokesman said, “To re-invigorate the everyday drinking category of Bordeaux.” (Translation: To sell the cheap stuff that even the Chinese aren’t buying.)

South Africa shines

2011-10-14T13:55:00.002+01:00

Wines of South Africa laid on a dinner at Ransome’s Dock for sommeliers from Canada and the

U.S.

last week. Chef Martin Lam’s menu (Lincolnshire smoked eel and fingerling potatoes, duck breast with braised lentils and aromatic vegetables, and apple and Calvados tart) was quite nicely compatible with the wide range of first-rate wines on show. Two whites really stood out: 2007 Sequillo “White” (probably the best possible name for a blend of Chenin Blanc, Grenache Blanc, Roussanne, and Viognier, which ought to be a muddle, but thanks to the skill of Eben Sadie, is a triumphant, vibrant wine with a seemingly endless finish), and a 2010 Circumstance Sauvignon Blanc—no cat pee and a nice taut touch of gooseberry, amazingly balanced.
Among the standout reds was the first Pinotage I can recall ever pouring a second glass of, Painted Wolf “Guillermo” 2009, made by Jeremy Borg (10 percent of it Syrah, Mourvedre, and Grenache), and possessed of warmth, robust flavour, and good grip, and Spice Route “Malabar” 2002, a Merlot-Syrah-Grenache blend from Charles Back that managed to be big, bold, and elegant at the same time. Vin de Constance 2005 rounded out a good evening in style, as it always does.

Happy birthday indeed

2011-10-12T10:19:00.008+01:00

Steven Spurrier got to be 70 last week, and, as with everything he does, turned it into a stylish celebration. The birthday lunch, by the sea on the Dorset coast, was attended by a convivial crowd—reunions galore, memories revived, good cheer abounding. There were Patricia Gastaud-Gallagher and Isabelle Bachelard, over from Paris, bringing back memories of days and nights on Cité Berryer back in the ‘70s, when we felt like we were in a Jacques Demy movie (but with better beverages), Hugh Johnson and Michael Broadbent and other grandees, Warren Winiarski, Michael Hill-Smith and other winemakers and, holding it all together, the lovely and indispensible Bella Spurrier.
Of course, lunch was brilliantly lubricated. Highlights: Mike Hill-Smith and Warren Winiarski brought their Chardonnays (Mike’s Shaw & Smith 2010 M3 a Chablis-like analogue, and Warren’s Arcadia 2008 closer to Meursault); Fattoria Nittardi’s Chianti Classico 2008 (with a label illustrated by Gunter Grass) was vibrantly fresh, and Roberto Bava’s sweetly vivacious “Bassotuba” Moscato d’Asti 2010 a perfect finish. The wine of the day, though, was Chateau Leoville-Barton 2002, a vintage many people wrote off; it was poised, silky, suavely sensuous, supremely elegant, and just right now.
We also celebrated Steven and Bella’s vineyard, where the Chardonnay, Pinot Noir, and Pinot Meunier grapes are about to be harvested for the first time. (It's in the background, behind Warren, Steven, and me) More on that in good time. . .

Rosso di Montalcino wins, Champagne iffy

2011-09-26T16:22:00.000+01:00

In a victory for integrity, common sense and good taste, a majority of wine producers in Tuscany have voted down a proposal to alter (some said “dumb down”) the make-up and character of Rosso di Montalcino. As with other areas of Italy, the vineyard plantings have expanded, often to marginal areas, and some producers, especially the newcomers, have pushed for non-native varieties, especially Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon to be included in the wines, essentially doing for Rosso di Montalcino what they did for Chianti, to the north. Whether this is a good thing or not is a matter of opinion, but it might be useful to remember that Chianti was always a blended wine to begin with, and Rosso di Montalcino, like its big brother Brunello, has always been 100 percent Sangiovese.
The argument in favour of blending was that it would allow “consistency,” as if the wine were some sort of industrial product. It may be best to remember Emerson: “”With consistency, a great soul has simply nothing to do.” I’ll drink to that.
Meanwhile, however, Champagne is expanding—not horizontally, as vineyard expansion is severely and assiduously restricted, but vertically, sort of: The CIVC, Champagne’s governing trade association, has allowed an increase in yields from the existing vineyards of 20 percent, “to meet demand.” This is the third such increase in a row, raising the output by about one-third. Something to celebrate—if you’re a Champagne producer.

Riesling along with the breeze. . .

2011-09-20T18:08:00.000+01:00

Packing a case of Riesling along on a summer vacation may simply be a matter of logic and good taste—no other wine is going to do all the recreational and gastronomic tasks of the season quite as well (in partnership with a few good reds for the charred burgers, spareribs and steaks). We had a couple of opulent Alsatians for the turbot and sole, but the best, most appealing all-rounders, were Germans, deliciously vivacious and lively companions for the occasion as well as the food.
Most memorable was a trio by Prinz von Hessen, from the 2010 vintage. It was a difficult one, with a slow start in the Spring, a sharp heat spike in mid-summer, and then long spells of rain. I was surprised, and delighted, at how well the wines turned out. The afternoon and evening sipper was labelled “H,” pleasantly light at 11.5 percent alcohol, with a bracing zip of acidity to match the light residual sugar—the sort of wine you never tire of, and wonderful with fresh crabmeat on thin slices of sourdough bread. The “Kabinett” was vibrant, a little fuller (12 percent alcohol), nearly dry, with a light touch of citrus, a perfect match for plaice, skate, and John Dory baked with a bit of grapefruit and lots of parsley. “Dachsfilet,” from a vineyard on a high slope, was the fullest (12.5 alcohol and partly fermented with the grape skins), almost unctuous, complex (hints of white peach and a long aftertaste) and, unsurprisingly, the ideal partner for scallops and sea bass.

Summer: The Italian job

2011-09-13T12:57:00.002+01:00

Packing up the wine for the summer beach holiday was easy—a case of Riesling from Germany and Alsace, another of Beaujolais 2009, a few bottles of Chablis for serious fish dinners, a couple of Champagne, and a serious red for the thick steaks we get from the local butcher in Cornwall.
       The red was a no-brainer for us, but a surprise to our guests: Vajra Barbera d’Alba 2008, one of our favourite wines. The usual match for steak, especially grilled, is Cabernet or Bordeaux, I know. Surely not for flavour, though, with those tannins and alcohol rasping against the succulence of the meat? Barbera generally has a better balance of acidity and astringency, and a more amenable mix of fruit overtones, for caramelized, juicy steak, and its restraint doesn’t tire out your palate. No snob value, of course, but a better meal in the end.
       I first visited Vajra 23 years ago, right after they’d finished building the new winery, and the first thing that impressed me about the wines was their balance and restraint. The late ‘80s and early ‘90s saw a glut of French oak, after the ebullient Giacomo Bologna won acclaim for his woody barrique Barberas, so Vajra’s, made in large Slavonian oak barrels (as they still are) stood out as clear expressions of the grape and the soil. If anything, the wines have gotten even better. It doesn’t say so on the label, but the grapes are farmed organically. I’m not surprised.

Catch me a Cab

2011-07-02T16:34:00.002+01:00

I went to two parties in a row held by other parents at my son’s school—a gauntlet of Pinot Grigio. I would gladly have rather settled for a beer, but none was forthcoming. By the time I got home, I was in a state, I needed a red wine desperately. Also, I had a duck breast ready, marinated in a hoisin-ginger-garlic sauce all day; grilled, it would char a bit. No wimpy wine here, for sure, but not too dry either, certainly not oaky.
       Rummaging around, I found a Chateau St. Jean Cabernet Sauvignon “Cinq Cepages” 2001, labelled as from Sonoma County. So, the five classic grapes of Bordeaux, from different vineyards around the county. Fine. Ten years old, I thought, just right. And indeed it was, classic California Cabernet flavors predominating, classic Sonoma too, slightly less austere than most of Napa, cassis, all the right markers. It was a perfect partner for the duck too, matching it step for step all the way through, vibrant, never flagging.
       It’s where California can have the edge, if they’ll lay off the hang time and oak and extended maceration. Not only for the quality of the fruit, the way the ripeness shines through, but also the degree of fruitiness that will always be different from Bordeaux’s, and that will always be superior with most food—certainly there, but not too much, a touch that illuminates the wine. It’s become harder to find, but it’s a joy when you do.

Wine of the week: Greek to me

2011-06-20T11:05:00.003+01:00

Here’s where blinkered vision can take you: I was reading about the severe problem of the Greek economy in the papers this weekend, and, having just had an absolutely superb bottle of Agiorgitiko the night before, my first thought was, “Why don’t they just make and sell more Agiorgitiko?”
       Of course, the problems of corruption, cronyism, and ineptitude are not going to be alleviated by any amount of wine, however good. In meantime, there is that Gaia Estate Agiorgitiko 2006, from Nemea, in the Peloponnese (the large, scraggly land mass just below the mainland). I’m amazed that the grape doesn’t have a better reputation, but that seems to be because of very high yields in the flatland vineyards that make it something of an ordinary workhorse grape.
       In the hills above (this one is grown at heights of 500-600 meters), the grapes produce a brightly purple, velvety, plummy wine, spiked with a bit of fresh, blackcurrant vibrancy. Although it’s deliciously distinctive, it was often used as a blending wine, to improve more ambitious wines with color and liveliness. Rather backward thinking. Isn’t that where we came in?

"Natural wine" -- let us begin. . .

2011-06-11T12:47:00.003+01:00

The first time I ever knowingly tasted an organic wine, more than 30 years ago, it was poured by a bearded, sandaled, sweetly sincere winemaker in Mendocino, California, and I have never again been so grateful to see a spit bucket. Good manners prevented me from pointing out that the wine might have had a better fate if it had been mixed with olive oil and drizzled over the salad (also organic, of course) rather than poured into a glass for consumption by someone you didn’t loathe.
       The last time I had an organic wine was last week. It was a Chardonnay from New Zealand, bursting with peaches-and-cream vibrancy, and my reaction was a profound sadness that I didn’t own a cellar full of the stuff (for the record, it was Clos de Ste. Anne “Naboth’s Vineyard” 2008).
       It may well be that you could duplicate a similar set of opposing experiences next week or next year, even during the same tasting, festival, or dinner, but, increasingly, if you are willing to believe that organic grapes and winemaking are the way forward, you’ll never walk alone.
       In fact, you’ll have a lot of company. It may not always be the sort of company you’d wish—there will probably be some shouting involved, even jostling—but the promise of better wine should keep us marching down the road.
       Shouldn’t it?

Malbec: Take three to tango

2011-05-19T13:57:00.002+01:00

We tasted our way through a run of Malbecs last week, quite a mixed bag. The rejects went down the drain for what’s becoming the usual reason: Rampant body-building. Most of the overblown, over-oaked, musclebound versions were easy to spot before their corks were pulled, by heavy bottles with deep punts and minimalist designer labels—ego-driven wines, determined to bluster their way into the winner’s circle.
Three made the cut and livened up our barbecue weekend, with burgers and ribs for lunch, steak for dinner, and a boned-out leg of lamb stuffed with feta cheese and oregano for Sunday supper. Las Moras 2009 was perfect for lunch and Altos “Las Hormigas” 2009 for dinner, both dark and luscious and supple, with buoyant, persistent, plummy fruit, while the Yauquén 2009, a little more serious, tannic, and fuller, matched Sunday's lamb (it could age a while, but its angular edginess is attractive now, and it would be a shame to lose that aspect).
Malbec has clearly come into its own in the last few years, but with no consensus at all about style—and a lot of attempts to make it into faux-Cabernet big boys--it’s something of a minefield, and not easy to navigate. (Price and effusive back labels offer no real help.) The good ones are worth the search, though.

Mike Lee: A good man gone, heritage intact

2011-05-09T14:41:00.003+01:00

Mike Lee, a founder of Kenwood Vineyards, died at the beginning of May. He was an unlikely sort of pioneer winemaker—the son of a San Francisco policeman, very much a city boy, and giving the impression that he’d rather be partying than anything. But when his family bought the derelict Pagani Brothers winery and vineyards north of Sonoma in 1970, he pitched in, taking short courses at the University of California at Davis and walking the vineyards with every grape grower who’d give him the time, and he and his family quietly built Kenwood into a powerhouse, producing more than 250,000 cases when it was sold (for a reported $50-million) in the mid-1990s.
       His philosophy was simple: restraint, “nothing over the top,” he liked to say, and he’d always add, “let the vineyard do the talking.”
       Along the way, he became a convert to organic farming, and adapted many of Kenwood’s vineyards, while encouraging growers whose grapes he bought to do the same. After he retired, he went to work for Patianna Organic Vineyards in Mendocino County, owned by Patty Fetzer Burke, a daughter of Barney Fetzer, patriarch of the leading California organic wine family. He let the vineyard do the talking there, too.
       Now another circle is closing, with the recent sale of Fetzer to Concha y Toro of Chile, one of the world’s largest wine companies. Previous owners Brown-Forman (Jack Daniel’s, etc.) had allowed Fetzer’s commitments to organics, and quality, to degrade, and according to a source at the winery I spoke with, there’s good cheer and optimism about now being owned by a wine company as opposed to booze barons. Perhaps the new owners should have a Fetzer family reunion and really re-start the ball rolling. . .

English wine: sparkling results

2011-05-04T12:12:00.000+01:00

Production figures for the 2010 harvest in England have just been announced by the English Wine Producers; 30,346 hectolitres were vinified, equating to just over 4 million bottles. This is the highest volume ever produced, breaking a previous record of 3.5m bottles.
The increase reflects the rise in planting over the last five years. Since 2004, vineyard hectarage has increased by nearly 75 percent, to 1323.5ha. (This figure understates the true position, as official figures do not account for all the hectarage planted but not yet in production, which, it's estimated, will add another million bottles to the total in a few years.)
Sparkling wine leads the way. In 2009 approximately 50 percent of total production was intended for sparkling wine, and based on the level of growth of Chardonnay, Pinot Noir and Pinot Meunier plantings over the last five years, the trend will continue: These three varieties account for almost 50 percent of the total area.

Another glass of white. . .

2011-04-27T13:28:00.001+01:00

Three times in the last week, in general-news stories, there have been passing mentions, usually scene-setting, of white wines. Once upon a time, the reference would have been Chardonnay; now, suddenly, it’s Pinot Grigio. A harbinger, or a benchmark?
In advance of the royal wedding, The New York Times ran a story on English sparkling wine, noting the remarkable success of Ridgeview, which won an overall gold medal at last year’s Decanter World Wine Awards. It seems that global warming is creating real possibilities for the future.
Meanwhile, I’ve discovered another: Coddington Pinot Gris, which could also have been called “Pinot Grigio,” as that’s a legal option. The vineyard and winery, established just over 25 years ago, are in Ledbury, just a bit northwest of Cheltenham. They sell by mail order and to a few restaurants. The Pinot Gris is in the style of Friuli, dry and lightly peachy, crisp and lovely. I wish the sparkling-wine producers well, but I’d sure like to see more of this, too.

Rioja keeps on keepin’ on

2011-04-14T12:23:00.003+01:00

We talk a lot these days about “the conversation,” whatever the actual subject is, although given the rise of the internet I often think a better word would be “chatter.” Either way, several of the wines that aren’t being talked about are, unfortunately, several of the more attractive ones: German Riesling, for example, or Bourgueil and Chinon, Semillon, Marsala . . . and, most perplexing of all, Rioja.
       “Most perplexing” because Rioja, even across a range of styles, offers bright, moderately elegant flavours and, except for a few overblown Gran Reservas, a suppleness that makes it a pleasure to drink and a perfect partner to a wide range of food. Although the tannins aren’t usually aggressive, most of them can age gracefully. (The lightest, easygoing Crianzas, meant to be drunk relatively young, are also good value.)
       The recent Decanter “Great Spanish Fine Wine Encounter” featured wines from all over Spain, but the real fun was from Rioja, where several intriguing 2001s stole the show. It was certainly a great vintage, and the wines are delicious now, ripe and full and still luscious, still evolving too. Some remain on retailers’ shelves (La Rioja Alta has just released its Vina Ardanza “Especial” and I spotted some Marques de Riscal recently). They're also on restaurant wine lists, and relative bargains. After the tasting, I cracked open my last bottle of Riscal’s Baron de Chirel 2001—magnificent.
       Now, mid-April, it’s the annual Decanter World Wine Awards judging week, and another magnificent Rioja caught my attention: Baigorri de Garage 2005. It’s made from hand-picked and hand-selected grapes from old vines up at high altitudes in Rioja Alavesa, fermented and aged in new French oak and has nearly 15 percent alcohol, but manages to be balanced and extraordinarily harmonious, simply superb. It won the International Trophy last year, and if there’s a later vintage in the competition (we won’t know till later, when the results are revealed), it’ll be the one to beat.

Slow Food and Wine for the 21st Century

2011-03-19T11:02:00.003Z

I’m neither technophobe not technophile; I do regret the demise of the idea of picking up a book to find out about things, but that’s how it goes. The world is what it is, and my son explains it to me more and more now ( I think he was more pleased than I when one of my books went onto Kindle). The other day, at a tasting for wines rated highly by Slow Food that introduced their new book, I also got a preview of their nifty new app. It’s terrific.
       The Slow Wine application, which is in English (unlike the book) and compatible with iPhone, iPad and iPod touch, was developed by Slow Food Editore, beginning with the book’s database of wineries (1,830) and wines (8,400) reviewed in the paperback edition, then enriched with new features, enabling searching by specific key words, such as the grape variety, the name of the winery, or the wine. There are also numerous wine maps, with information on the regional agronomic background, all easy to use thanks to an integrated Google mapkit.
       The navigation of the wineries’ descriptive pages is completely (and easily) interactive, from service tools like telephone and email, to the geographical localization on the map, or a link to the winery’s website. Three thematic sections introduce the reader to the stories of the people behind the wine production, vineyards and viticulture, and to the wines, reviewed in a simple manner and linked to technical information.
       Slow Wine is available from the App store in a free trial version, allowing access to the “Everyday Wine” pages (wines that have been highlighted by Slow Food for their excellent price-to-quality ratio), with all the basic tools to save favorites, consult the wine maps, and allows access to the list of reviewed wineries. The complete package can be purchased for £5.99.

Things are looking up Down Under

2011-02-04T14:31:00.001Z

After years of promotional programs that ranged from somnolent to moribund and allowed much of the rest of the wine world to dictate the conversation, the Australian wine industry has suddenly come awake, and loudly. They’ve remembered they have a good story to tell just in time, too—a tasting panel at Decanter magazine recently declared that Australia has “never been in better form. . . ignore Burgundy and go to Australia for Chardonnay,” and several events at the recent Australia Day tasting in London were standing-room-only; the fact that the subjects covered (and happily tasted) were Riesling, Pinot Noir, and revelations of Terroir certainly proves they’ve turned a page.
The new endeavor is known as “A+ Australian Wine,” and aims to shift our perception away from the bargain-bin dead end the wines have been stuck in for too long, back toward quality and their progress over that too-quiet time. The immediate result of the campaign? Several large conglomerated wineries have dropped out of the program, on the grounds that it’s not “commercially driven” enough. That may be the good news—it was the “commercially driven” idea that landed Australian wine in the dumpster.
Take a look at the new, lively, straightforward and quite informative website that carries the revised message. Australia made things interesting two decades ago, and we may be seeing a return to that: http://www.apluswines.com/

Oregon Pinot Noir 2008: delectable

2011-01-27T12:01:00.002Z

There has been quite a buzz building over the 2008 vintage of Pinot Noir in Oregon, accompanied by some silliness about Oregon Pinot Noir “coming of age,” and/or proving a point about the quality of the wine there (slightly more than half is Pinot Noir). “Coming of age” is silly because a few decades isn’t that much in the evolution of vineyards, and a lot of the acreage planted is relatively very new, as are the wineries (in the last 20 years, vineyard acreage increased four-fold, and the amount of wineries went up five-fold, to almost 400); for fine wine, that’s just a blink. As for “proving the point” about the quality of Pinot Noir in Oregon, that’s been done as far back as the 1980s; the further points that have been proven since then are that Oregon’s climate can be challenging, and that an influx of new winemakers, whether starting a second career or just generally on a “back to the land” trip, can set the varied styles of winemaking on something of a zigzag course.
Last week, I got a chance to taste some of those Oregon Pinot Noirs, at the annual tasting of Northwest wines in London. Some are still a bit tannic, oaky and extracted, but most were fresh and lively, blessed with vibrant acidity and relatively low alcohol levels (under 14%, sometimes well under, and even below 12% in a few cases). For whatever reason, not everyone was there, but it was a good sampling. Standouts were two bottlings from Chehalem, “Reserve” and “Ichinnan,” the graceful Benton Lane “Estate,” a slightly funky Sokol Blosser “Dundee Hills,” bolder versions from Argyle “Nut House” and Soter “Mineral Springs Ranch” (both of which had a little more power, but didn’t lack grace—they needed a good 20 minutes to open up and reveal their virtues, as did Elk Cove “Roosevelt,” which seemed indistinct at first, but came around). I’d assume these last three would age nicely. I also liked the very light and pale Erath "Willamette Valley" and A to Z, which were delicious, very fresh and lively, though too light for food. Altogether, an impressive showing.

A thought for the new year (and beyond)

2010-12-27T12:44:00.000Z

The world’s a little less jolly without the late, legendary Len Evans, but his memory still provides some sparks, as my wife reminded me when I was being more humble than necessary about a wine last night, offering to go ahead with a rather lackluster but palatable Bordeaux, since the cork had been pulled. “I’ll poach pears in it tomorrow,” she said. “Go get the best Barolo you can find.” So I did, and we had a lovely dinner, and I was reminded of one of Len’s Rules:
“People who say ‘You can’t drink the good stuff all the time’ are talking rubbish. You must drink the good stuff all the time. Every time you drink a bottle of inferior wine, it’s like smashing a superior bottle against a wall. The pleasure is lost forever, you can’t get that bottle back. . . Wine is the key to love and laughter with friends—it rewards us far beyond its cost.”
Happy New Year.

Wines of the week, from New Zealand

2010-12-21T15:52:00.004Z

A couple of pleasant surprises last week—delicious white wines from New Zealand that weren’t Sauvignon Blanc. The first was the real surprise: full and peaches-and-creamy 2008 Chardonnay from Clos de Ste. Anne, “Naboth’s Vineyard,” near Gisborne; the forthright fruit was nicely buttressed by a fresh, persistent zip of balancing acidity. It wasn’t surprising to discover that the grapes were dry-farmed, grown on their own roots (biodynamically, actually), hand-harvested and bunch-pressed. Old-fashioned, indeed; the back label mentioned “luminosity,” and for once, that wasn’t typical back-label hyperbole.
The other taste of serendipity was Greywacke 2009 Pinot Gris, from a single vineyard in Marlborough, the northernmost region of the South Island. Winemaker Kevin Judd is a talented perfectionist, and it shines through in all his wines (even his Sauvignon Blanc, all gooseberry and no cat pee). The wine is more in the style of the best of Friuli, well-rounded but still bracing, autumnal and savory, like baked apples with citrus zest. Half the juice was fermented in stainless steel, the other half spontaneously fermented in old oak casks, then both were left on the lees for a while before blending. There’s some more technical stuff involved, but the main thing is, it all added to the wine’s vibrant character. Considerably.

Quite a mouthful

2010-12-01T12:31:00.002Z

Le nouveau Beaujolais est arrive! And it’s terrific, and it’s. . . um, 2009. The Beaujolais “Nouveau” 2010, untimely ripped from the wineskins after a scant six weeks to be peddled to gullible guzzlers fonder of alcohol and ceremony than of flavor, is perhaps another story. Meanwhile, the newly released traditional wines from last year are well worth getting your corkscrew out for.
The vintage of 2009 was a very good one, warm, with useful rain in June and plenty of sunshine in August; the wines are rather full-bodied, fairly tannic, with acidity levels that are refreshing without making your teeth ache, and somewhat elevated (and natural) alcohol. Many will be even better with a couple of years to mature. At a recent tasting by Domaine Direct (http://www.domainedirect.co.uk/), the standard was generally high, with a couple of outstanding examples: Domaine Paul Janin et Fils Moulin-a-Vent “Clos du Tremblay” was dark and lovely, quite vibrant, and the “Vielles Vignes des Greneriers” was intense and velvety, even voluptuous (biodynamically farmed grapes, very old vines, no SO2). A trio of Fleuries from Domaine de la Madone promise great drinking now (the “Tradition”), next year (“Niagara”), and in 2012-2014 or even further (“Cuvee Speciale Vielles Vignes,” from 70- to 100-year-old vines, rich, serious, sensuous, sensational).
Then, just to pleasantly surprise me and upend the conventional wisdom some more, a friend went to Paris and brought me back a delicious 2010 Beaujolais Nouveau, made by Pierre-Marie Chermette at Domaine du Vissoux and bottled for the venerable wine bar/shop Legrand—it's not chaptalized, barely filtered, and hearty and jolly as a peasant uncle in a Dumas novel. An augury? Things seem to be looking up after all.

Booked up for Christmas

2010-11-29T14:15:00.003Z

Some wine books make you want to drink, and a few may make you think, but I don’t know of any that do both, except for “Matt Kramer On Wine,” recently published and the book I’m giving my godson for Christmas (while saving my copy for my son, for when he’s ready to pull his first cork).
       This is mostly a collection of previously published pieces, essays from the New York Sun and the Wine Spectator and a few chapters from Kramer’s books that underscore and tie them together, as well as a long (and fascinating) profile of Angelo Gaja commissioned but never published by the New Yorker. They are arranged loosely by subject, and seeing them in context—looking at the whole garments, as it were, rather than the threads in the weave—they’re even more provocative and thoughtful. Wine writing’s a genre not notable for subtlety or rhetorical skill, but they’re here in abundance, often presented so adroitly that you’re not quite aware of the seriousness of the point being made until it comes back around and nudges you afterward.
       For example, an easygoing essay on Rosé sidles up to some historical background about color
before concluding, “amplification is not substance.” (He is fond of Cyrano-like thrusts to end a refrain.) His definition of a “master blender” is: “A winemaker who lacks great grapes. Always applied to wine shippers who have just fed a wine writer a good lunch.” An “open letter to Bordeaux lovers” begins, “Are you folks nuts?” before dissecting the vagaries of the region’s soil, yields, attitudes, the 1855 classification, and pricing, in order to confirm their capacity for denial by pointing out that they “see themselves as the deepest channel of the mainstream. . . the essence of common sense.” (He is even-handed, though-- “Hospice de Beaune” is a “Burgundian dialect phrase for ‘Gotcha!’” and the American AVA is “an acronym for ‘Anybody’s Variation Accepted.’”).
       Provocative and thoughtful, for sure. On wry, with plenty of mustard. Sterling Publishing, New York, hardcover, $19.95 (a steal).

Roll out the Barolo

2010-11-26T12:45:00.002Z

Some of my happiest times in Italy have been in the Piedmont (including my honeymoon), so when my favorite Italian restaurant, Enoteca Turi, announced a Nebbiolo dinner, I moved a lot more quickly than usual—the food is dependably excellent, but also, owner Giuseppe Turi is as knowledgeable as he is passionate about wine. With a superb five-course meal, we enjoyed six wines from the Piedmont (a Spanna, three Barbarescos, and two Barolos, notably from the 2001 vintage—classic, still nicely developing—and the 2004, which is at once sensuous and powerful, fulfilling all the promise of a fine vintage; best of all, though, was a 2003 Barbaresco Asili from Bruno Giacosa).
There was an anomaly included, and a marvelous one at that: a Valtellina Superiore (DOCG) “Ca Morei” 2006 from Sandro Fay, in Lombardy, up in the mountains north of Bergamo. The vineyards are high-altitude, steeply terraced, in a beautiful alpine landscape, and the wine is a tart, vibrant, even slightly nervy rendition of Nebbiolo’s classic aromas and flavors (a little less tar and more roses). It’s definitely a wine worth searching for, and a good reminder of why we trust great sommeliers: they know more than we do. http://www.enotecaturi.com/

Let the chips fall. . .

2010-10-12T07:53:00.002+01:00

I’m working my way through a case of 2008 Chablis, unfortunately without much enthusiasm, even though most of them are from the legendary Fourchame vineyards. The problem isn’t the vintage, it’s the international plague—the blight of oak. I know the conventional wisdom is that winemakers are (finally) practicing restraint these days, but there’s still a lot of barrel in the glass. And it’s not just with Chardonnay, the usual victim. At a recent lunch celebrating Sydney’s chefs and restaurants, no one at our table got past the first sip of a very woody Clonakilla Viognier (Blockhead question: what attribute of Viognier might sensibly suggest an affinity for oak?). Last month, much of a case of 2006 Chianti Classico Riserva I drank had more wood in the wines than the box they came in, their Sangiovese character completely flattened.
But the biggest travesty may be over-oaking Chablis, which ought to be the most straightforward expression of Chardonnay. Twenty-odd years ago, when the winemakers of Chablis used to come to San Francisco for what were fascinating, unmissable tastings, they used to brag about their soils and climate, implanting the idea of terroir almost before anyone else did, and they disdained oak, or at least new oak, or very much of it at all. The wines backed them up. Now, too many of them are buried in oak coffins, their flinty minerality dulled into mediocrity. So far, only Domaine Alain Geoffroy and Domaine Pommier have stood out in style, while Louis Moreau was perhaps a half-step behind them, but a long way ahead of the pack. What a shame.

Wines of the week

2010-09-27T13:53:00.006+01:00

At a seminar on South African wines early this year, several winemakers said that a big chunk of the country’s future lay in blends. Their idea was that, while varietals offered a chance to compare their wines, and therefore, terroirs, with other wines of the world, the still-developing perceptions of South African wines offered them considerable freedom in creating interesting blends.
Not all the wines on offer right then made the point, but two wines I drank last week did, most
emphatically. Over dinner at Lime Wood, a thoroughly splendid new country-house hotel (http://www.limewood.co.uk/), and at enough leisure to savor the wines, I tried Sadie Family Vineyards “Palladius” 2007, a white blend of Chenin Blanc, Grenache Blanc, Clairette,
Viognier, and Chardonnay that ought to have been a muddle but was, instead, a freshly delicious and persistently flavored, vibrant wine, and then a Cape Chamonix 2008 “rouge,” which turned out to be a sort-of Bordeaux blend, though with Merlot leading the way and Cabernet Sauvignon, Malbec, and Petite Verdot following along. It’s inexpensive, and deeply savory, ready to drink and eminently drinkable. Point taken!

Go ahead, make my day

2010-09-23T09:20:00.001+01:00

This September 24th is International Grenache Day. The idea originated at the First International Grenache Symposium in June in the Southern Rhone. Over 250 Grenache producers, journalists, and retailers from 23 countries pledged to make it the day to celebrate Grenache each year as "the grape you know, you just don't know it." A Grenache "Primer" is part of a viral email campaign, and events will be taking place in the USA, UK, Spain, Australia, India, Brazil, China and Nigeria. The Australian contingent suggested that loud, colorful shirts be worn on the day by restaurant/retail staff, attendees and winemakers to further amplify it. (That would make it a year-round event in San Diego and Florida, wouldn’t it?) Grenache Day activities around the world will be profiled with ideas, menus, and food pairings on http://www.grenachesymposium.com/GrenacheNews/

Tango through the tulips

2010-09-21T13:47:00.007+01:00

A walk-around tasting like the Argentine event below can only provide a snapshot, of course, but I did have the advantage of tasting some wines in advance, at the Decanter World Wine Awards, as well as some tips from my colleagues. I dipped in and out of several Torrontes that were on display, but they were generally disappointing, in the sense that they were all over the place in terms of style, weight, and flavor—there’s nothing remotely like a consensus here. The best, like the Alta Vista 2009 and Bodega Colome 2009 (both from the northern region of Salta) were intriguing, lovely wines, intensely aromatic
and quite fruity, but others were either dilute (the cheapies) or overpowering (oaked or intensified by lees/skin contact).
Malbecs, though, were pretty glorious, at least those which hadn’t succumbed to ego or aspiration, usually expressed by relentless use of French oak (and to their shame, ultra-heavy bottles). The sensuous, juicy, densely mellow richness of Malbec is wonderfully appealing in wines like Etchart, Tapiz, and Andeluna (all from 2009), Renacer, Zuccardi, Vistalba, and Tamari (all from 2008). So is their availability, I'm happy to say—I can find a lot of decent Malbecs in my local supermarket, and I can afford them, too.
The other reds worth searching out were from Bonarda, an Italian grape usually used for blending in Emilia-Romagna and southern Lombardy: RJ Vinedos 2007 “Joffre e Hijas” and Valle de le Puerta 2009 were ripe and lush. (Tip: there are also some nice Bonarda blends around, either with Syrah or even Sangiovese, often inexpensive, and real bargains—the grapes are listed on the front label, so are easy to spot.)

This sporting life. . .

2010-09-17T11:40:00.003+01:00

The social season kicked off with a whump at Decanter’s World Wine Awards dinner at the Royal Opera House (than whose glitz few can hardly be glitzier)—plenty of great wines and winemakers, and a few surprises. There was a huge roar when the International Trophy for “best sparkling wine” was announced—it went to Ridgeview, a British wine producer, based in Sussex (southern England, of course). The wine’s made 100 percent from Chardonnay, and it is indeed refined and vivacious. It won a
regional award from the original panel, and thus was eligible to be re-tasted by an all-star panel for one of the Best in Show awards. The Roberts family, who have worked hard to establish it, are now being overwhelmed by the world’s media; just shows what can be done with a lot of effort, and global warming. . . The other surprise of the night came when Israel’s Carmel Winery won best Red Rhône Varietal, but of course Shiraz/Syrah is a seasoned traveler by now.
Then, a few days later, came what’s always the most fun, Decanter’s “Tastes of Argentina.” There were 40 producers pouring half a dozen wines apiece at Vinopolis, but there were also tango demonstrations, London’s brilliant artisanal ice-cream maker Freggo (banana, dulce de leche, and Malbec ice creams featured), a steak-and-Malbec tasting sponsored by Gaucho Grill, and snacks of empanadas, ceviche, Argentine chorizo, and humitas. Great wines, great vibes. Details to follow. . .

Getting warmer

2010-07-27T16:02:00.002+01:00

For those of you still skeptical about global warming, I offer three little words: English Pinot Noir. For years, English vineyards have struggled along in their cool climate without an abundance of sunshine, producing wine from hybrid forms of early-ripening, mostly white grapes; often the wines have been sparkling, where the tartness of less than total ripening could be considered a virtue. It was easy to be a skeptic.
Last year, there were rumors that it had all begun to change, with the 2008 vintage. An English Pinot
Noir, from Bolney Wine Estate, in Sussex, trumped a red Burgundy in a televised tasting; other
examples also sold out quickly. Now the English Wine Producers trade association’s competition results have been released, and Pinot Noir dominated the red-wine category, with far more medals than ever before (judged by an objective panel of Masters of Wine). In fact, the overall winner was a Pinot, from Plumpton College. Two others—Gusbourne Estate, and Sharpham, also won gold, with several more gaining silver and bronze. I’ve had a chance to taste a few and have to admit that, though I wouldn’t mistake any for Burgundy, they were quite good, with honest varietal character.
Then, last week Denbies Wine Estate, in Surrey, announced that they’d planted four acres of Sauvignon Blanc and hired Brendan Seal, winemaker and viticulturist at Mount Edward in New Zealand to oversee their new wine program. We may have a shot at being locavore winebibbers after all. . .

Wine to go, but where?

2010-07-22T17:42:00.001+01:00

There’s a Biblical injunction about putting new wines in new bottles, and a savvy marketing man has taken it to heart—and the bank. When James Nash thought of putting wine into single-serve plastic glasses, with a peel-off top, he did what most people do these days: He went on TV. The show was “Dragons’ Den,” where would-be entrepreneurs present their ideas to a panel of business experts, in hopes of getting funding. He was turned down by the entire panel, and scornfully. He went ahead anyway, secured a partnership deal with Marks & Spencer, and now his product is on sale in their stores all over England, and selling very well indeed—“flying off the shelves,” as an M&S spokesperson said. (They’re sold in the “to go” section of the stores.)
The wines are Chardonnay, Rosé, and Shiraz, all from the south of France (Vin de Pays d’Oc), all
2009, packaged in 187-milliliter stemmed glasses (about one-quarter of a standard bottle). The packaging is very good—I dropped the shopping bag by accident, and it split with a loud noise, but the wine didn’t spill. The wines are branded, cutely, as Le Froglet (no comment has been heard yet from the French).
The story’s good—little guy triumphs over so-called “experts.” How about the wine? Well, that’s another story. The Chardonnay is exceedingly dull, and over-sulphured, basically generic white wine with an afterburn; the Shiraz is not bad, but not really good either, a little fruit, a bit of tannin, basically mediocre generic red; the Rosé is raspberryish, palatable, fairly dry and slightly fruity, basically no worse than a lot of other mass-market Rosés. At £2.25 per serving, they add up to £9 a standard bottle. Convenience has a high price; indeed, you could call it exorbitant. . .

2010-07-09T14:15:00.001+01:00

Thought for the day: If wine were the cure for sciatica, the world would be an immeasureably better place. (Or, at least, my place would be an immeasureably better place.)

2010-06-11T11:20:00.002+01:00

Wines of the week: At Galvin’s Café a Vin, a splendid dinner to introduce a range of organic, biodynamic, and "natural" (unfiltered, etc.) wines was really brightened by a 2008 Roussette de Savoie “Cru Frangy” from Domaine Bruno Lupin. Most white wines from Haut-Savoie are benumbingly boring, but Roussette (which has its own appellation) can be enormously charming; this one certainly is, quietly pear-like fruit, gingerbread spice, restrained but very fresh acidity. Then, 2009 Vin de Table Raisins Gaulois, from the irrepressible Marcel Lapierre, who was often inclined to organic, mostly hands-off winemaking long before it was fashionable; this one’s organic Gamay, quietly carbonic-macerated, in the accurate words of the sommelier, “a redcurrant-jam jamboree.” Lovely. http://www.galvinrestaurants.com/

Watered down

2010-06-03T08:56:00.001+01:00

Here’s a victory for common sense: A new YouGov survey reveals that 60 percent of UK adults think bottled water is a waste of money, with almost three-quarters of respondents (71percent) agreeing that tap water is as clean as bottled water. The results echo the findings of a survey carried out by the charity WaterAid in 2009, which found that around two-thirds of consumers are now opting for tap water when they visit restaurants.
Only 27 percent of respondents drink bottled mineral water in any average day. Interestingly, those better off are most likely to choose tap water--62 percent of the more affluent drink it.

2010-05-14T11:41:00.004+01:00

Wines of the week: At Franco’s restaurant in Mayfair, a tasting of Rosés from 12 countries, great fun and some nice surprises: Rallo “Normanno” Nerello Mascalese 2008 (Sicily), from the slopes of Mount Etna, quite dry, well-structured, medium-bodied, fairly serious; intriguing. I had it again later with garganelli and n’duja (hot and spicy sausage) and smoked ricotta, and it more than held its own. Also, a charming, refreshing sipper, Agricola Vinosia "Rosmunda" 2008 (Catania, made by Mario Ercolino), from the Aglianico grape, a surprisingly light wine, with a zip of acidity and lovely fruit—think strawberry fields forever.

Just add Burgundy. . .

2010-05-05T10:07:00.003+01:00

Brunch isn’t an idea that ever caught on in England, but if anything could change that, it would be the new good idea from Sam and Eddie Hart, who run some of London’s best restaurants. They’ve combined it with Burgundy—always a good idea—to be convened the first Saturday of the month at Quo Vadis restaurant in Soho, hosted by Tom Harrow, an affable, knowledgeable consultant known as WineChap.
       The menu consists of “London cure” smoked salmon (delicate, tasting more of salmon than smoke) with four white Burgundies, followed by Egg Bledisloe (potato rosti topped with layers of
wilted spinach, crisp pancetta, and crumbled blue cheese, crowned by a perfectly poached egg, named after an enlightened politician with, clearly, impeccable gourmet inclinations) with the reds. Both dishes nicely matched the wines: An extremely pleasant occasion.
       The wines ascended from a Bourgogne, a village wine, premier cru, and grand cru. In this case, both white and red Bourgognes were lovely surprises: Collouray et Terrier 2007 “Tradition” and Meo-Camuzet 2007 punched way above the weight of their simple appellations, especially the latter, lovely, deep, and complex. The other whites ran right up a grand scale: Bret Brothers St. Veran 2006, Michel Bouzereau Mersault-Genvrieres 2005, and Sylvain Loichet Corton-Charlemagne 2006.
       After the Meo-Camuzet set a high standard, the charming Domaine Comtes Lafon Monthelie-les-Duresses 2006 more than held its own, as did Armand Rousseau’s regal Charmes Chambertin 2004; the herbal, slightly funky Clos de la Marechale “Mugnier” Nuits-st-Georges 2004 was the only wine out of step in this precise dance. At £49 all in (there’s also a cheese plate), this is extraordinary value.
       Big Burgundy Brunch, Quo Vadis, 26-29 Dean Street, London W1D 3LL. Tel: +44 (0)20 7437 9585, http://www.quovadissoho.co.uk/. Future dates: May 8th, June 5th, July 10th, August 7th, September 11th. Tom Harrow can be found at http://www.winechap.com/.

Bella Venezia

2010-04-30T09:28:00.010+01:00

Venice was even more crowded than usual, as Angelina Jolie and Johnny Depp were shooting a movie there. Our usual hotel was booked solid, but a friend got us into Locanda Orseolo, moderately priced, well-appointed, near St. Mark’s Square (http://www.locandaorseolo.com/). We had several meals at Osteria Alle Testiere, where the wine list is as terrific as the cooking (which is really terrific)(http://www.osterialletestiere.it/testiere/home.html ).
On my birthday, co-owner Luca di Vita poured us Miani’s tightrope-taut, vibrant Friuliano 2008 to go with grilled razor clams with ginger, and then Le Due Terre Sacrisassi Rosso 2006 (a fresh, lightly astringent blend of Refosco and Schioppettino) to go with the San Pietro (known as John Dory in England, and St. Pierre in France, ho-ho-ho), which was steamed in white wine with aromatic herbs. Both wines were new to me, and lovely surprises. We also ate and drank well at Enoteca ai Artisti (http://www.enotecaartisti.com/) , an informal, jolly wine bar near the Guggenheim Museum—a good range of tapas-style snacks, and fresh fish simply but precisely cooked, and a choice of about 60 wines by the glass; it’s a little cramped, but great fun.

Bella Italia

2010-04-29T10:49:00.005+01:00

Just before we got ourselves out from under the dark gray mantle of England, we had some good Italian cheer. Paolo de Marchi came to town with new vintages of Proprieta Sperino, his revival of the family’s original estate in the northern Piedmont. Though Paolo made his name in Tuscany with Isole e Olena, he’s always missed the high country around Lessona, where vineyards once abounded in the Alpine foothills and plateaus, and in 1999 he and his son Luca replanted
vineyards in the area. The soil is deep, acidic, and well-drained, he told me, and the vines benefit from a combination of cool air and plenty of sunshine. The 2005 “Lessona” is 100 percent Nebbiolo, a moderately buoyant, notably fresh and aromatic wine, while his 2006 Costa della Sesia “Uvaggio” is a bit more serious; it’s about two-thirds Nebbiolo, the remainder Croatina and Vespolina, local varieties—a lovely wine, fresh and lively, with a long, persistent aftertaste that keeps reminding you there’s some power beneath the velvet. Paolo is never happier than when he’s in the vineyard, and now that he has a true home vineyard to play in, he’s delighted; that’s in the flavor too.

Later in the same week, I went to Le Café Anglais, which has become very much a winemakers’ hangout, for a dinner labeled “A Night in Panzano.” The featured attraction was the legendary Dario Cecchino, the slightly mad butcher featured in Bill Buford’s “Heat,” and the wines were from Tenuta Fontodi, presented by the genial Giovanni Manetti, who is collaborating with Dario on a project to raise free-range Chianina beef. Dario has now also opened a restaurant, run his way (no menu, “il convivo”—family-style seating--and you can bring your own wine http://www.dariocecchini.com/ ). We had a variety of his dishes, including extraordinary steak tartare and slabs of what he calls “Her Majesty the Bistecca alla Fiorentina." Fontodi’s “Vigna del Sorbo” Chianti Classico Riserva 2006 and the elegant all-Sangiovese Flaccianello della Pieve 2006 were thoroughly agreeable co-stars. By the time we got through the Vin Santo, I had agreed to apprentice myself to Dario in the shop, restaurant, or both. He says it will be the experience of a lifetime, and I believe him.

Spring can really hang you up the most. . .

2010-04-27T14:08:00.002+01:00

Our birthdays and anniversaries arrive in the Spring and, after four months of gray skies, cold, and rain, we celebrated by getting away to the sun and friends, in Italy and France. After that, the unpronounceable volcano in Iceland was a last bit of gray unpleasantness, and then the sun came out, and it’s finally Spring for real, and we’re back, overflowing with good cheer and tasting notes.

Prego!

2010-03-12T11:20:00.001Z

After the elegant rigors of Burgundy last month, it’s now the Italians’ more exuberant turn; the long build-up to Vinitaly begins to look like the awards season in Hollywood, although our progression may be more fun, for the journalists anyway. First up was the Gambero Rosso Road Show, a tasting of wines that have won the top awards from the magazine-and-book publisher’s panels. The format is a kind of once-over-lightly, eclectic grouping, too kaleidoscopic to get much meaning from, but there were two wines that stood out, worth reflecting on.
Both were Amarones, Masi’s “Riserva di Costasera” Classico 2004, and Allegrini’s Classico 2005, beautifully made, carefully polished, the sort of wines that just stop you in your tracks and command your attention and appreciation without effort. Both are made in a dry style, the Allegrini a bit more spicy, the Masi a bit more complex, the Allegrini a well-toned partner for some food (beef or pork cheeks slow-cooked a la bourguignon, say), the Masi a classic, companionable after-dinner wine, as welcome and comforting as an old friend. A good start to the campaign.

The long tail of the law

2010-03-04T20:35:00.004Z

The case of the phony French Pinot Noir rolls on, still generating more heat than light. . . Twelve French wine suppliers were found guilty in a French court of selling "Pinot Noir" that wasn’t Pinot Noir to Gallo, for its Red Bicyclette brand. Their punishment was a small joke, a shrug of dismissal: Suspended sentences and relatively small fines. Apparently, fooling Americans is only a misdemeanor.
       That’s not the end of the story, though. It’s been revealed that Constellation also bought Pinot Noir from the same French suppliers, though the company says it’s sure the wine was genuine. Which of their numerous brands it went into hasn’t been revealed yet, so it remains to be seen whose credulity will be tested.
       Then the U.S. government stepped in, sort of. The Treasury Department’s Tax & Trade Bureau is investigating the affair, or will as soon as the French court documents are translated (um, no one at Treasury speaks French? no observers were sent to the trial, despite tax and trade issues involved? no liaison between or among government agencies here or there?).
       Now, inevitably, come the lawyers. A California law firm has filed a class-action suit seeking damages against Gallo and the French wine firms involved, according to www.decanter.com, on the grounds of unfair competition, fraud, and false advertising. I’m sure they will have no trouble finding a couple of “wine lovers” who feel wronged by buying a Merlot-Syrah-Whatever blend, under the impression that it was Pinot Noir, to act as clients. Will the fact that “decent Pinot Noir for $7 a bottle” is an obvious oxymoron carry any weight in this case? Don’t bet on it.

Happy Birthday, Ridge

2010-03-02T10:14:00.007Z

Ridge Vineyards celebrates its 50th anniversary this week, which is also winemaker Paul Draper’s 40th year at the helm—a pair of remarkable achievements. Aside from making one of the world’s great Cabernet Sauvignons, Ridge Monte Bello, Paul has always set a high standard for poised and polished Zinfandel, one I wish more people would follow.
One reason has always been that he lets them speak for themselves, without interceding, imposing his ego and amping them up. Here’s an example: Years ago, I drove up the long and winding road to the weathered wooden buildings (once nicely described by Charlie Olken as
looking more like a place that produced moonshine whiskey than fine wine) overlooking what was then the Santa Clara Valley, full of fruit and vegetable farms and free of the smog that would persist when it became the Silicon Valley. Draper gave me the tour, which consisted of standing in the barrel room and looking this way and that before going out on to a small porch and looking up at the vineyard stretching across the hillside. He explained just a little about the cultivation of the vines, mentioned that they used a minimum of sulphur and other chemicals in the winemaking, and that the wines were fermented on their own wild yeast (a practice severely frowned on by the winemaking school at the University of California at Davis).
“We’ll taste some wine in the laboratory, shall we?” he said with a smile, and I followed him meekly across the barrel room. To a sink, the sort of old-fashioned, deep sink people once used to do a load of washing in by hand. There was a shelf above it, with a few tools--a hydrometer, glass pipettes, just basic stuff—and some coffee cups. “This is the lab,” Draper said, with a wide grin. “I think there’s some commercial yeast around here that we bought years ago and never used, but I don’t know where it’s gotten to. And we try not to get the coffee grounds in the wine. Other than that, we just get out of the wine’s way. . .”

California wine takes a dip

2010-02-11T19:04:00.003Z

Shipments of California wine to market, the numbers that track the volume of wine actually sent out from wineries, bottled or in bulk, are the most useful indicator of the status of the California wine business. For most of the past three decades, they’ve increased year-to-year, with only a few occasional and slight recessionary dips; progress seemed pretty much inevitable as wine became more and more commonplace in American life. However, 2009 saw a decrease, the first in 16 years, that may be different—and telling.
       On a percentage basis, it wasn’t a lot: shipments were down by 1.6 percent; still, that amounts to more than 4-million cases of wine. Furthermore, while past decreases reflected temporary
declines in the overall market, U.S. consumption actually grew in 2009, by 2.1 percent, according to Jon Fredrikson, of leading wine research firm Gomberg, Fredrikson & Associates.
       What’s behind it? A number of observers blamed a slowdown in sales of higher-priced wines (a retailer in Los Angeles told the L.A. Times that his sales of Opus One in the average Christmas season had gone down from about150 bottles to 6 last year, coining a new phrase at the same time, saying the marketplace was “over-culted”). Some super-premium wines have appeared at discounted prices on internet sales sites, and there have been rumors of cuts in wholesales prices, to provide inducements by way of higher margins to distributors. Still, those high-end wines are a drop in the wine ocean, and part of a larger trend of general trading-down across all price bands. Americans were still drinking plenty of wine, just paying less for it (and drinking a bit more imported wine).
       As it turns out, it was the rest of the world that was jumping ship. The largest part of the decline—a drop of about 3.2-million cases—was in exports to foreign countries. In England, where more than 80 percent of wine is sold in supermarkets and convenience-store mini-markets, the competition at the bottom of the price pyramid is savage; cost-cutting and discounting are the norm, and there’s a wide range of choices from all over the world: Chardonnay, Cabernet Sauvignon, Syrah/Shiraz, and Merlot from Australia, Chile, southern France, Italy, South Africa, and California, as well as Pinot Grigio from Italy, all in the £4-5 ($6-8) range, sometimes even less. In addition, every supermarket has its own proprietary brands, even more ruthlessly discounted.
       Gallo rules the California roost with several labels (Gallo Family, Turning Leaf, etc.), and after that it’s a scattering of corporate brands—Fish Eye from the Wine Group, Echo Falls and several others from Constellation (including the Woodbridge Robert Mondavi line, just to show how the mighty have fallen). There are a lot of odd blends in this category (Chardonnay/Pinot Grigio from Blossom Hill, anyone?), plenty of pinks, especially White Zinfandel, and this is where surplus Merlot goes to die; needless to say, the only regional identity here is “California.” Altogether, it’s as edifying and aspirational as “Alvin and the Chipmunks.”
       A lot of the wines are shipped from California and Australia in bulk and bottled here in England, or Spain, or France, which heightened the irony of California wineries importing wine from Italy and France to sell in America—commodity wine has become an international two-way street. Gallo recently hit a bump in that road when several wineries and cooperatives were hauled into a French court and accused of selling it fake Pinot Noir, for its popular Red Bicyclette brand; the wine comes from the Languedoc region of southern France, where there are allegedly just enough Pinot Noir vines to supply about one-tenth of the total amount Gallo bought. In the understatement of the year, the French prosecutor said the case “might lead to a loss of confidence in French suppliers,” and one British writer likened the arrangement between Gallo and its suppliers to the American military’s “Don’t ask, don’t tell” policy on gays. The verdict will be announced next week, on February 17th. Whatever happens, commodification is here to stay.
       California wineries come to London next month, in mid-March, for their annual roadshow. It will be interesting to see what they make of this lively market--and vice versa.

Cheese, please

2010-02-08T14:22:00.004Z

I’ve almost given up trying to convince people to try having white wine with cheese after dinner, but not quite. (I hardly ever have dessert, preferring a bit of cheese, something simple like Comté, aged Gruyere, Cheddar, or Fontina—just one to relax with.) Slightly sweet white with good acidity just seems to make a perfect fit with a lot of different cheeses, and it doesn’t end the meal on a heavy note, the way many “dessert” wines can. We had a good example a few weeks ago when a bottle of Alsatian Riesling turned out to be a little too sweet for the grilled fish we were having for dinner (the back label just said “opulent,” which was not quite helpful); we had some Comté in the fridge, left over from a weekend splurge, so that match-up was a treat afterward.
A few days later, we went to dinner at Le Café Anglais, chef Rowley Leigh’s classy bistro. It was a set dinner, for a group of favored customers and one lucky journalist, with Olivier Humbrecht, of Domaine Zind-Humbrecht, and featuring a splendid array of his wines. The food was mostly of the sort that you and I aren’t going to cook, so descriptions aren’t really relevant (except perhaps for an assemblage of smoked eel, beets, and horseradish cream that was a knockout with two of his superb Rieslings). The notable match, though, opened a door to an interesting set of possibilities that had never occurred to me: Gewurztraminer (Hengst 1998) with Montgomery Cheddar (pretty sharp). The wine was moderately sweet and quite spicy, classic lychee-and-gingerbread, and the alternating bites and sips just kept reinforcing each other in a delicious interplay of flavors, never flagging. I’m sure most of us haven’t lost any sleep wondering about food matches with Gewurztraminer, but this one (and probably Gruyere, aged Monterey Jack, Pecorino, or even Taleggio) really should be tried.

News: What the world needs now. . .

2010-01-19T08:27:00.001Z

The Bronco Wine Company announced today a new Pinot Grigio from a patented clone discovered in 2001 in its Tehachapi vineyard. "We noticed a separate genetic variation with lighter color, found that it made a fuller, better-tasting wine, and grafted it in the vineyard," said Bronco president Fred Franzia. The wine is being released as Forest Glen Tehachapi Clone Pinot Grigio (suggested retail price $11.00).
Ed. Note: For those unfamiliar with California’s geography, Tehachapi (pronounced Tee-HA!-chapee) is about 100 miles north of Los Angeles.

The closer to Beaune, the sweeter we meet. . .

2010-01-15T12:31:00.004Z

Q: How many Londoners does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: If it’s snowing, all of them.

This is Burgundy Week in London, and it would be as close to Heaven as I’ll ever get without moving to Beaune if it weren’t snowing, which has shut down the railroads, delayed almost everything else, and left us with icy sidewalks and streets (we usually have snow once a decade, so we’re always unprepared, quite out of practice; as an ex-New Yorker, I usually shift quickly from arch amusement to exasperation, ending with my Tony Soprano moment: “You call this a snowstorm?”). The good news is, you can get a seat on the Underground at rush hour; the bad news is, the train will be late. The further good news for some of us is that when we arrive at our destination, there will be Burgundy. Importers, individual domains, and regional organizations are
all over town, pouring vintages old and new, and we journalists are scurrying, swirling and spitting and schmoozing—it’s like the world’s best ant farm right now, wonderful in its own odd way.

. . . And now (Friday) it’s over, snow and wines both. It rained, at last, weather the British can understand much better, back to normal. (I was told there is still snow on the ground in Burgundy, though.) Mostly, what emerges from a marathon such as this week is fleeting impressions, still being collated. Rather than generalize from a small sample, I concentrated mostly on the more affordable and accessible wines. Some of the best, nicely balanced and classic, were several 2008 Chablis from Billaud-Simon, not only the Vaillons Premier Cru, but even the Petit Chablis and simple Chablis; Bichot 2008 Chablis; several 2008s of note from Fourrey, quite tightly wound and tart, done in what used to be the traditional Chablis no-oak style, a bit austere to taste, but fine with food (I had it with lunch); Alain Geoffroy’s 2008 Petit Chablis and Chablis were also winners.
Though 2008 is edging onto store shelves even now, there are still plenty of 2007s around, and this seems to be a good time to drink them up. Geoffroy’s “Beauroy” Chablis was a stand-out, beautifully balanced, with a very pleasantly persistent finish, as was Jean-Marc Brocard’s lovely, fresh “Vaulorent” Chablis—a biodynamic wine, which must have kept him extremely busy in the difficult summer of 2007.

Drink your pebbles

2010-01-08T12:52:00.003Z

Sometimes when the best-laid plans go awry, they do so in delightful ways. At the fish shop the morning of New Year’s Eve, my idea of sea bass disappeared when I saw that they had fillets of John Dory, a noble and irresistible fish, expensive but worth it. Back home, I presented my lovely wife with this surprise, and she reciprocated: Instead of the Macon we’ve been drinking this month,
she brought out a bottle of Francois Mikulski’s 2007 Mersault—quite noble and irresistible. Happy New Year indeed!
       It was the best wine I’ve had all year, by a long shot, and certainly one of the best of the decade. It had remarkable character; it didn’t taste like Chardonnay, it tasted like Mersault, and that specific, splendid flavor never flagged. (For the record, it was aged in only about 15 percent new oak, and weighed in at 12.8 percent alcohol.) My first thought was “purity,” my second was “minerality.” My third was “Humpty Dumpty,” who told Alice (in Wonderland), “When I use a word, it means just what I choose it to mean—neither more nor less.”
       Years ago, an extensive research project showed that people tend to assign their own connotations to words, even the simplest ones. It was wine-specific, and an eye-opener: Common words, even some that are perceived as neutral, were interpreted quite differently; to some, words like “robust” or “full-bodied” or “acidity” were virtues, to others they were negatives. Even adding descriptive modifiers didn’t always help, and often the same words would be used by people with very different ideas about the wines being tasted. Humpty Dumpty, it turned out, is us.
       And there I was, with purity and minerality, which quickly emerged as the leading buzzwords for wine in the last two years, without, as far as I could tell, ever being defined. So here I go, semiotic or idiotic, you decide: To me, purity is varietal character in a regional context; if it doesn’t have a regional context, i.e., 90 percent of the world’s Chardonnay, no purity. It may taste good, but that’s different. Minerality? I grew up in Massachusetts, and the woods outside my small town were full of streams you could drink out of, and we all knew you could forestall thirst on a long summer walk by putting a pebble under your tongue, and those streams were full of them too. We became connoisseurs of pebbles, mica-flecked sharp granite, smooth flat sandstone, gray limestone. Fresh out of the stream, cool and washed clean: Minerality.
       If we could all taste Francois’ Mersault, we would all be singing from the same hymnal of minerality. But that sets up another conundrum—might not some other winemaker’s definition of minerality (or whatever else) also be intriguing? Of course it would. And so it goes. Not so bad.

CHEERS!

2009-12-30T19:26:00.002Z

I hope we all have a happy new year, and definitely a more prosperous one, with good food and wine. New Year’s Eve, I’ll fillet out a wild sea bass, pin-bone the fillets, salt and pepper them, place them skin-side down in a little hot olive oil in my cast-iron skillet, scatter a tablespoon of mixed chopped chives and parsley over them, followed by a short squeeze of lemon, turn them over and finish the other side, serve on a bed of pilaf-style rice (steamed in light chicken stock and tossed with toasted pine nuts), with some baby peas and caramelized mushrooms. Simple, quick, lovely. The wine will be white Burgundy, Louis Jadot’s Macon-Azé, inexpensive, very nice, just right for the occasion and the food. (Much earlier, the kid will get his favorite food and beverage, sausages and French fries with lots of ketchup, and a rare Diet Coke.) We’ll all be in bed early and happy, and wish for the same for you.

WHEN GOOD TASTE IS “INCORRECT”

2009-12-16T10:32:00.005Z

In years past, this would be the season when we’d be bombarded with recipes for old-fashioned wine drinks—cobblers, possets, syllabubs, nogs, neguses, and other concoctions from colonial times, involving a fair amount of fuss and an excess of calories, basically complicated appetite-suppressants, not worth the trouble.
At a party in Italy this summer, I did discover a wine drink that is worth a try, an interesting aperitif—what the British refer to as a “sharpener.” It was called a Negroni “sbagliato,” which translates to “incorrect Negroni,” although it’s closer to an Americano (old bartenders never die, they just become pedantic with age). It’s a mix of 1 ounce of Campari and 1 ounce of sweet (red) vermouth, stirred with an ice cube to mix well and chill, then strained into 3 ounces of chilled Prosecco; a twist of lemon peel is optional, and not bad. The vermouth slightly mitigates the bitterness of the Campari; it’s a bracing drink, good with snacks or before a meal.
(Trivia note: Ian Fleming loved Negronis, and originally made that James Bond's drink of choice, but his publisher thought it was too offbeat, and had him change it to Martinis.)

BOOKED UP

2009-12-08T12:38:00.009Z

Never one to miss a trend, even if at the tail end, I got swine flu last week. I do not recommend it. I did, on the other hand, get some relief in my bed of pain from several very good books—this year’s vintage is not large, but certainly high quality. The best antidote to the general misery was Been Doon So Long, by Randall Grahm (University of California Press, $34.95), a collection of highlights from his madcap newsletter and the only wine book I know that has edified me and made me laugh out loud at the same time.
From the dedication (to philosopher John Locke) to the glossary (featuring, among the wine
terms, a sprinkling of Yiddish, useful phrases such as “pet de cheval”—horse fart—and a great deal of common sense), as well as the adventures of Don Quijones, the Man for Garnacha, and parodies of Kafka, Joyce, and everyone else Randall could think of (including himself), it’s a joy. This be madness all right, yet there is method in it, too. A bedside book for the ages. Or ageless. . .
On a more serious note (actually, after Randall, everything is serious!), there are two beautifully made books that kick off a new series: The Finest Wines of Tuscany and Central Italy, by Nicolas Belfrage, and The Finest Wines of Champagne, by Michael Edwards (University of California Press, $34.95 each in America; Aurum Press, £20 in the UK). This is a project from the entertainingly erudite quarterly magazine The World of Fine Wine, a pair of beautifully designed high-quality paperbacks, with evocative photography by Jon Wyand. Both authors are experts and eloquent, and the format—an examination of “wines most worth talking about” through the medium of profiles of 100 or so winemakers, buttressed by authoritative background essays and a series of “best” lists that create a gallery of each region’s winemaking peaks—is a model of attractive clarity. Unmissable.

IN ITALY, PINOT NO-NO

2009-11-16T09:30:00.002Z

On vacation in Italy last August, we were in Liguria, on the coast south of Genoa, an area so devoted to fish that the only meat I saw was prosciutto—and white-wine country. Obviously, this was the place to discover what sort of white wine Italians like to drink. The local wine is mostly made from the Vermentino grape, which was almost the new Pinot Grigio a couple of years ago, but couldn’t quite get there. Still, it’s tasty enough, especially when you’re on vacation, eating grilled fish and gnocchi in the sunshine, in the place where pesto sauce was invented. Every wine list we looked at led off with plenty of Vermentino, and some Pigato, the other local grape. None bothered with Gavi, the over-priced white wine of neighboring Piedmont, nor Soave. Here and here, we caught glimpses of Verdicchio.
What most restaurants and the one upscale wine shop had from outsiders was Fiano from Campania, and a whole lot of different wines from Friuli, source of most of Italy’s best whites. And, of course, invariably, Pinot Grigio (though not always from Friuli, where Italy’s only distinctive versions come from).
And everywhere we went, to the exasperation of my wife, I interviewed the waiters: What do people here mostly drink? The local wines, I was told. Do they drink Pinot Grigio? The reply, invariably, "Oh yes, signore." Italians? "Oh no, signore—the Americans, the English, the Germans, the Swiss--it’s very popular with them."

THIS BIRD IS GROUNDED

2009-11-13T13:12:00.002Z

One of the nice things about living in England is that I don’t feel compelled to roast a turkey every Thanksgiving. If you believe, as I do, that eating turkey is like kissing your aunt or listening to a whole Barry Manilow album, the question of making a wine match with it doesn’t come up too often. When it’s my turn to host Christmas, we have goose or duck, which would probably have been the national choice if the Puritans hadn’t been such bad shots.
Anyway, as many of you will be going with Barry regardless, here are some wine thoughts,
offered sincerely. You have to play the cards you’ve been dealt, after all. The usual advice is to say that turkey is versatile, so lots of different wines go with it. This is a cop-out, like saying Tom Cruise is energetic and well-spoken and could therefore play Shakespeare. Turkey is not versatile, turkey is bland. Even Chenin Blanc can wrestle it to the ground. But basically, forget white wine--when combined with turkey it’s like modern-art videos, something that leaves you scratching your head, vaguely distracted, and wondering what you’re doing here.
As so often with almost all food, it’s got to be red, and the answer, as it is so often, is Pinot Noir, which is basically Nature’s way of telling you that combining wine and food is a really good idea. It’s a great dancer, light and stylish, and like any great dancer it makes its partners look good. There’s certainly a limit to how elegant a turkey can get, but it will be much improved and almost refined if it’s next to the Fred Astaire of wine (of course, it’s even better with duck or goose, but I’ll try to keep to the point here). The black-cherry, power-with-finesse, “iron fist in a velvet glove” aspect also fits in nicely with cranberry sauce, sage-oriented stuffing, mashed pumpkin, caramelized onions. . . I think I’m coming around, actually. You could have a good time. You could even have a good reason to celebrate.

OL' BLUE EYES IS BACK. . . IN NAPA?

2009-11-12T09:43:00.000Z

There’s truly no business like show business. . . Sinatra Family Estates “Come Fly With Me” Napa Valley 2007 Cabernet Sauvignon, has just been released, only $570 per six-bottle case, including a CD of the album, and an autograph from either Nancy, Tina or Frank Jr. It’s the first in a series of what will be annual wine-and-music releases (I assume “Only the Lonely” won’t be featured).
At least Frank has some wine history. Fifty years ago, he remarked casually that his favorite wine was Bolla’s Soave, and in no time it was the top-selling Italian wine in America. Ring-a-ding-ding indeed! Will Frank’s be joined by a high-alcohol, robust and cheery Zinfandel that hits your eye like a big pizza pie, from Dean Martin Estates? Why not? “That’s Amore,” isn’t it?

BOMBS AWAY. . .

2009-11-11T14:27:00.005Z

Sometimes I feel like a hypocrite, though unintentionally. I write (and truly believe) that wine is better than ever, as do many of my colleagues. What I mean is that there is an astonishing, quite wonderful array of wine out in the world, from new places and people—Portuguese red table wines, some Spanish whites, Greeks of all sorts, southern Italian whites (especially from Campania) and reds from Puglia, Sicily, Sardinia and Corsica, a wide variety from southern Rhône, new blends from South Africa, and on and on. We’re past the poor sanitation and restrictive traditions that made so many wines of the last generation such a gamble, to put it kindly. But what have we moved on to?
      Here’s what I poured down the drain last night. Three 2004 Brunellos di Montalcino (dense, fruitless, hyper-extracted, no Sangiovese character, gracelessly alcoholic at an alleged 14%): Colombaio, Renieri, and San Filippo “La Lucere;” 2005 Cesari Valpolicella “Ripasso” Bosan (brawny, more like Amarone, character lost in tannin and alcohol); 2005 Chateau de Cazeneuve “La Sang du Calvaire” from Pic St-Loup in the Languedoc, a blend of Syrah and others, but weighing in—heavily—as just a big, tough, pleasureless red (and a surprise, usually reliable). As dinner was ready, I settled for a 2006 Mitravelos Estate Agiorgitiko from Nemea in Greece, nothing special, but with some fruit showing, and palatable, with 13.5% alcohol and discernable but not domineering oak.
       I don’t think any of them would ever have come around, even with all the time in the world. They seem to be, as South African winemaker Anthony Hamilton Russell recently said at a panel discussion in London, in that over-ripe style that is “destined to be stillborn.” People blame global warming, the American market, Robert Parker, “international style” (i.e., the American market), and show-off winemakers, but in the end, the cause is less important than the effect—joyless wine that’s difficult, if not impossible to like, regionality and the integrity of terroir shot all to hell, and an oversupply at the glass-recycling plant. There’s a lot of lip service around “food wines” these days, but evidence on a large scale is, sadly, elusive.

ITALIANS: In a Twist

2009-11-10T10:49:00.004Z

Recently, Marilisa Allegrini came to town and we tasted a range of her wines; made to a very high standard, they’re always a considerable pleasure, but there was a twist this time, literally. After years of testing, Allegrini have decided to bottle some of their wines under screwcaps, not only to avoid the problems of corked wines, but also because they believe the wines taste better, fresher and more lively.
The problem has been that the often obtuse Italian regulations for DOC wines forbid screwcaps. After arguing the point for a while and getting nowhere, Allegrini simply gave up and scrapped the “Classico” designation for screwcapped wines. We tasted three identical wines, bottled under both corks and screwcaps: Valpolicella 2007, and two from a new joint venture in Tuscany, Poggio al Tesoro Vermentino “Solosole” 2007, and Poggio al Tesoro “Mediterra” 2006 (an IGT blend of Syrah, Cabernet Franc, and Cabernet Sauvignon). In each case, the screwcapped wine was more vibrant—and the point was well made.
Now, they’ve got company. Pieropan, which was the first bottler of Soave 80 years ago, has also discarded the Classico designation and gone to screwcap—“to improve the quality and capture the character better,” declared Nino Pieropan; the lovely 2008 bears him out. Paolo di Marchi has also released some of his justly popular Cepparello (vintage 2005) under screwcaps, and it’s even more aromatic and elegant than ever. Livio Felluga has also come aboard, with Sharis 2008. I was never a great fan of this Chardonnay-Ribolla Gialla blend, which sometimes seemed to lack distinctive character; that’s changed now, with a nice aspect of white peach emerging, carried along through a persistent, firm finish. (The Ribolla Gialla is barrel-fermented). It’s a superb wine. Let’s hope this is the beginning of a trend.

Update: Lustau, one of Spain's most distinguished Sherry producers, has introduced screwcaps for its Finos and Manzanillas.