I
know it’s hard to believe, but this job isn’t always as glamorous as my
writings would have you think. It’s not all plain sailing, you know. Only my
dedication to the public service that is this blog enables me to cope with
the good, the bad and the ugly faces of the wine world with such impunity. In
this instance, it was il brutto and il cattivo that I suffered on your
behalf, although I probably should have known better from the outset.
I’m
in no way an ingrate, and I heartily appreciate the kindness and the generosity
of whoever brought me this bottle as I’m certain that it was given in good
faith. That being said, the contents did make me question the statements I have just made in the
previous sentence.
As
I’ve said, I really should have known better. Any wine which features on its
label the phrase “Selección 15% Especial” as its most extollable virtue is
quite likely to rub me up the wrong way. If, as I fear it does for many,
quantity does indeed equal quality, I’d far prefer to drink two bottles of
Mosel Riesling Kabinett at 7.5% to ingest the same 112.5ml of alcohol. The
experience would be both far more agreeable and would leave me with far less of
a hangover. So what was this incredible intoxicant, I hear you cry? Called
simply El Bombero (2010, 15% ABV), this straight Garnacha from Cariñena in north-eastern Spain
was, I’m certain, as flammable as its name implied (El Bombero translates as
"the fireman").
 |
| Bodegas San Valero, El Bombero 2010 |
The
brightest and most ludicrously purple wine I have ever seen (the result of
carbonic maceration, surely?), the nose fortunately gave little away. Just a
suggestion of darks fruits and graphite were discernable, but I’m sure I
noticed a faint, acetic twang lingering worryingly underneath. Where to begin
with the palate? Sweet, fiery alcohol assaulted my tastebuds initially, followed
by a dull pounding from soft yet slightly bitter tannins. The berry fruit
wrestled to poke its head from under the blanket of sweet alcohol and bitterish tannins,
and it was difficult to tell if some or all of the wine had been exposed to oak
of any sort for any length of time. The low acidity and modest levels of tannin
again suggested carbonic maceration. The finish overstayed its welcome,
flavoured as it was with the sweet heat of the alcohol and the piquancy of burning plastic.
Overall,
the sweetness of the alcohol swamped whatever character this wine may have had,
although without all of that alcohol I’m not sure what else it might have had going
for it. I’ve subsequently determined El
Bombero to be a Laithwaite’s wine and rather too many of the reviews posted
on its website tend to agree with my less than complimentary verdict. I can’t help but worry about the quality and style of future wines
produced for the UK market if this is in any way indicative of what Joe Public
buys and enjoys. Do we need a bottle of wine at an everyday price point that contains almost twelve units of alcohol?
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