An Addendum

As an addendum to A Weekend To Remember, we were “allowed” to visit one winery the next afternoon, and Zýmé’s beautiful cave was only a couple of miles away from where we were staying. Carved into the hillside, their barrel cellar is a fifteenth century quarry hewn out of the sandstone, painstakingly recovered from nature and sympathetically fitted with dramatic uplighting, climate control and a beautifully appointed tasting room. Not to mention the occasional sculpture dotted between the barrels.

Zýmé’s Barrel Cellar

From the three or four wines tasted at Celsetino’s house the first time we visited him, this time we were offered nine of the eleven wines in Zýmé’s portfolio. All of the wines were very good, but the stars were:

- 2008 Metodo Classico Vino Spumante Brut (€25, 12% ABV, 100% Pinot Noir) a bready, yeasty, mushroom nose; toasty, citrussy, floral and long on the palate, very refined and drinking beautifully.

- 2011 Valpolicella Réverie (€10, 11.5% ABV, traditional blend) archetypal old fashioned Valpolicella, light, bright ruby; fresh slightly tart cherry fruit, delicately structured and refreshing. A joy.

- an excellent but youthful 2004 Amarone (€80, 15.5% ABV, traditional blend) five years in Slavonian oak botti; just opened and rather inexpressive, but dusty, plummy raisin fruit with off dry cherry fruit; touch of sweet spices, a lovely bitterness and very fine tannins – infanticide!

- an exciting new wine, the 2001 Amarone Classico Riserva La Mattonara (€160, 16% ABV, traditional blend) just 2000 bottles produced, nine years in botti; deeply fruity, hugely complex and beautifully balanced; a softer, old fashioned, off-dry style, spicy, rich and exotic with an amaro edge. Again, still a baby.

- the ever impressive Harlequin (2006, €195, 15% ABV, up to 22 native varieties) Celestino’s Super Veneto with a beguiling, sweet, smokey dark fruit nose; spicy, creamy oak, full bodied dark forest fruits, modern yet lithe and massively complex. Its little brother, Kairos, was no slouch either, but as great as these siblings were, to me they never speak of their origins in the way that either the charming Valpolicella or the beguiling Oz did.

I'd have loved to have been able to bring a case of the Metodo Classico and a case of the Amarone home with me but, financial considerations aside, Ryanair is not known for being luggage friendly. Having said that, I can never leave this cellar without tasting the lovely Harlequin Grappa, a bottle of which just happened to find it's way into my suitcase and which is currently giving me the eye across my desk.

A Great Place To SITT

Due to the usual nonsense that is work, my recent attempt to leave the office at twelve was thwarted until nearer two o’clock. Still an early finish you might say, but I was heading to the Specialist Importers Trade Tasting (SITT) where there were forty or fifty exhibitors all of whom were desperate for me to try their wares and all of whom were only there until four o’clock. Hence my muttering, mumbling and occasional disregard for the speed limit all the way into the centre of Manchester.

As it was, I only got to try about half of the wines that I had earmarked in the catalogue, although that wasn’t too bad given the length of my list and the mere two hours that I had to work through it. Mostly it was a nice chance to catch up with people who I only tend to see at SITT each year, but there were one or two things that really stood out. A very fine table full of Austrian wines offered by Clark Foyster had some extremely good Grüner Veltliners, but was most notable for its reds. In spite of its reputation for white wine, I do have a serious soft spot for Austrian reds and the 2010 Moric Blaufrankisch was a belter.

Distilleria Gualco,
Grappa Di
Dolcetto D’Ovada

My discovery of the day, however, was Distilleria Gualco, an artisan grappa producer based in Piemonte shown by Compass Spirits. Giorgio Soldatini, the current scion of the family who founded the business back in 1870, was on hand to present a selection of his grappe, aromatised grappe and liqueur grappe. I’m a bit of a purist when it comes to grappa, so the aromatised and liqueur offerings weren’t particularly up my street, but the “regular” versions were nothing short of brilliant.

The unoaked Grappa Di Dolcetto D’Ovada was bright, fresh and grapey, redolent of the vinacce it was made from and with a peppery, spicy character.

Distilleria Gualco,
Grappa Senza Nome

Next came the Grappa Senza Nome (“Without Name”), a golden coloured elixir distilled from Barbera grapes and aged for five years in oak barriques. This was sweeter and richer than the unwooded Dolcetto, a little fierier too. There was a definite oak character, but again the fresh grapiness of first-rate vinacce had not been lost.

Distilleria Gualco,
Grappa Rubinia

The final two were really quite different, even amongst the relatively small number of barrel-aged grappe one generally encounters. Grappa Rubinia, a Moscato grappa aged for six years in 200 litre acacia casks, was a beautiful amber colour. It had a woody yet obviously Moscato nose, warming yes but fruity, complex and with a lovely, wooded roundness to the palate.

Distilleria Gualco,
Grappa Rosina

Finally came the Grappa Rosina, another Dolcetto-derived grappa but this time aged in acacia casks for nine years and bottled at 56% ABV rather than the 42% ABV of the preceeding three. More bronze than amber, this had a sweet, earthy, coffee nose, with definite hints of gianduja. Similar flavours were carried through to the palate where, despite the substantial influence of the alcohol and acacia, there was again a brightness at its heart that shone out. A truly exceptional grappa by any standards.

Needless to say, reader, I promptly ordered a collection of Gualco’s finest and I await a suitable occasion to pull some of their corks.

Let It Snow

I’ve wanted to try to make this for a while, and what better time to have a go at Oeufs á la Neige (“Snow Eggs”) than on Christmas Eve? This dish of poached quenelles of meringue coated with caramel and floating on crème Anglaise is a favourite of my brother, and anything involving custard always wins my vote. Although my quenelle-forming skills may have been a little rusty, I have to say that I’m rather pleased with how it turned out. And hey, the proof of the pudding and all that! We could have drunk a Sauternes, a Tokaji or even a Cognac or a Grappa with it, but I have to admit that we enjoyed it on its own in anticipation of the overindulgence that is so typical of the following day.

Happy Christmas everyone!