Just sayin' . . .

“Aromas of peach, oatmeal, subtle notes of charred peat, seasoned by complex lees derived characters, with flashes of matchstick, zesty orange rind and ginger deftly laced with complex seasoned oak. . . “  That’s an actual tasting note for a wine, though it’s edited down from the original, which was even longer (and sillier). Somehow, back in the 1980s, wine writers decided that stripped-down descriptions of wines wouldn’t do any more, maybe because they were looking to make their work more distinctive. So, what winemaker John Parducci once called “fruit-salad tasting notes” began appearing. They continue, despite much deserved derision, in some places. Now, supermarket chain Tesco has announced they will start using descriptions from consumers who have attended a special tasting of their new range; I was thinking it could be a good idea until I got to the end of the announcement, which noted that wine bloggers would also be included in the trials. Oh well. . .

English wine harvest 2014 looking good

Furleigh Estate, in West Dorset, is expecting its best-ever harvest this autumn, anticipated to be twice as large as the previous record yield, in 2010, as a result of two consecutive years of great summer weather, which enabled vines to thrive. Rebecca Hansford, owner of Furleigh Estate, said: “We are so excited about this year’s bumper harvest. A dry Glastonbury Festival and a warm Wimbledon are usually reliable indicators that the grape harvest is going to be good, so we’ve had high hopes. We are so fortunate that the English climate has been kind to the vines this season!”  I called around, and several other English winemakers said the same thing, so this could be the break-out year. (By the way, Furleigh Estate is where Steven Spurrier’s new sparkling wine, Bride Valley, was made. I visited the estate this summer and tasted the wine, which was quite impressive; more on that very soon.

Rambling in the Piedmont (part 1). . .

I was invited to speak at a four-day festival in Barolo, where Italy’s best wine is made, and of course jumped at the chance. It was all slightly nutty, called Collisioni (collision) for good reason: Music (Jamiroquai and some Italian rap groups), literature (Ian McEwan, David Sedaris, V.S. Naipaul, and Michael Chabon—I’m still trying to imagine reading “Telegraph Avenue” in Italian), and wine (a group of us from Decanter magazine, doing talks and tastings).
       I was talking about Italian food and wine, trying to explain how Italian-American cooking is a genuine, separate aspect, and making a comparison between, for example, New York’s Little Italy Sicilian—red sauce, etc.—and San Francisco’s North Beach, based more on pesto sauce and with maybe a little more refinement (that was the subject of my first e-book this year, “The Flavor of North Beach Revisited”). Since Liguria is a neighbor, right down the road south from where we were and reeking of basil, the audience seemed receptive to the shout-out.
       I was mainly there to promote my newest e-book, “The Wine Lover Cooks Italian,” and I solved the problem of its having no hard, physical existence by waving around a copy of the original book and exclaiming “revisita!” Don’t know if they got it, but when I finished, I was given a wheel of local cheese, known as Toma, which is very good. I’ve certainly had worse wages. (It was a gift from the local cheese-makers’ association—someone there had read the book, and they were very pleased that I’d included three Piedmont versions in the cheese chapter.)
       Wine? Wonderful everywhere we went (and we got around), and some of the best was made by female winemakers. I especially liked the Dolcetto from Pira & Figli, which Chiara Boschis labels “no oak, no Berlusconi.” Delicious, and good advice. And a nice discovery, a lovely dry white from a heritage grape called Naschetta, being revived by several young winemakers. I tried Rivetto’s--one of those wines that’s serious but also makes you smile. Quite auspicious. For information on the festival, have a look at www.collisioni.it. More wine notes to come soon.

French dirt

They're suddenly going all Napa in French wine country. The Cite du Vin visitors' center in the city of Bordeaux is up and running and looking good, and some chateaux, famous for being closed most of the year, are actually welcoming a few visitors. Now, Beaune has announced that a visitors' center will be built there (a Burgundian friend of mine, on hearing the news, said "But why? We thought WE were the visitors' center!")
       It's just starting. Burgundy recently applied for UNESCO World Heritage status (as did Champagne), but was turned down in favor of the ancient cave paintings in the Ardeche (there's only one natural site chosen each year). Both will re-apply next year. And they'll have company: the Conseil des Grands Crus Classes en 1855 is submitting the world-famous--and controversial and, many say, outdated--classification for the same status, though, as a list can't be "natural," it will have to be entered in the "cultural" category. There's no word yet on whether this enshrinement, if it goes through, would make the listing permanent. If it does, though, I may submit a shopping list from the Intermarche near Barfleur in Normandy, which also contains a lot of wine, but honors as well the local fishermen, rabbit ranchers, cheesemakers, fruit and vegetable growers, sausage makers, and bakers--surely a wider cultural, and even natural document.

It's all Greek to me? bring it on!

Here’s serendipity: We were on vacation in Greece, and the owners of our small hotel* had scheduled a wine-tasting with their friend (and now mine) George Skouras, owner of a very modern winery in Nemea, in the hills of eastern Peloponnese; we’d driven through the vineyard area, but didn’t stop. Next time, we will. We attended the tasting as a courtesy, and were extremely glad we did.
       George is a heartily affable fellow, but several of the wines were even more eloquent. He explained that most of his vineyards are more than 400 meters above sea level, with one just over 1,000—“the mountains are the refrigerators of our land,” he said, collaborating with the sea breezes (often brisk) to insure ripeness at the right times. Some of his wines are Rhône varieties (Syrah and Viognier), but George was pouring the Greek varieties, which made an excellent case for themselves as well as for the terroir:
       Moscofilero is bottled under its varietal name, a dark pink grape that makes an aromatic, crisp white wine—wildflowers and the merest hint of lime (he called it “joyful acidity,” and he had a good point there); Grand Cuvee Nemea 2007 is red,100 percent Aghiorghitiko, firm and slightly tart (red as opposed to black, cherry), undoubtedly benefitting from being grown at 970 meters altitude; Megas Oenos 2008 is the same grape, blended with 20 percent Cabernet Sauvignon, fermented and aged in new French oak but not overtly or intrusively oaky—both the oak and the Cabernet are smoothly integrated; Synoro 2008 is a blend of Cabernet Franc, Merlot, and Aghiorghitiko, beautifully balanced and deliciously complex (cassis, a bit of mint, vanilla), silky and rich, finesse itself, and a nicely lingering aftertaste—a really lovely wine, and well worth seeking out.
          During the week we were there, we drank the local wine, from the Peloponnese, often simply from carafes, impressed and very happy to be. Greece has gone far beyond the old Retsina days, well into modern times, but in its own delightful way. . . Another reason to go back.
        *The lovely hotel, in Karadamili, is at: www.anniska-liakoto.com