Hit And Miss

I have a deep and abiding love for Château Musar, so much so that I’ll accept its myriad of idiosyncrasies any one of which would cause me to reject another wine outright. This Bordeaux inspired oddity, with its distinctive blend of Cabernet Sauvignon, Cinsault and Carignan, divides opinion more than any other wine I can think of. Some, like me, love its ferocious acidity and its feral flavours, whereas others criticise its volatility and its Brett infestation.

Although I have not yet really started to drink my vintages from the nineties, I have always found that the integrity of the corks in bottles of earlier vintages has been somewhat variable to say the least. Because the hardships that the Hochar family has faced, and overcome, in its desire to make one of the world’s great wines are so far beyond the usual trials of weather and vineyard disease, I can never understand why they would have chosen to seal their elixir with such moderate quality corks. I have to assume that it was the only option available during such a horrible period in Lebanese history.

The cork from this bottle of 1988 Château Musar

As you can see, the cork in this bottle of 1988 Château Musar was a case in point. It almost looked as though the upper quarter had been attacked by the cork equivalent of woodworm, whereas the remaining section had deteriorated as a result of seepage. This bottle had the lowest level of the twelve in the case and was ullaged to its mid-shoulder. Needless to say, I didn’t have high hopes, but 1988 is my favourite vintage of Musar and I never pass up an opportunity to drink it.

Château Musar 1988
(you can clearly see the heavy
crusting inside the bottle)

Whilst Musar always needs to be decanted to allow it to open fully, I decided against it this time, despite the crust it had thrown, as the level suggested that oxygen already had had plenty of time to do its worst. The wine was a very mature looking medium brick red, and was as clear and bright as the large amount of colour compounds forming a heavy crust inside the bottle would lead you to expect. The nose showed warm, sweet spice – cinnamon, nutmeg and black pepper – along with volatile red currant and pomegranate fruit and a soft earthiness. The palate was initially sweet, with an almost chocolatey/cocoa richness, that lead into fresher pomegranate fruit and cinnamon and nutmeg spice flavours. Drying out certainly – the last vestiges of cherry fruit were fading into lighter, tarter pomegranate flavours - but it was still vibrant and long with a feisty warmth from the (14%) alcohol on the finish.  The usual huge Musar acidity and not insubstantial tannins were still pretty much balanced by bright red fruit.

Definitely not a great bottle, and I’ve had better examples of this vintage reasonably recently, but given the state of the cork and the degree of ullage I’m surprised that it was even drinkable, never mind worthy of writing about.

Prüm And Proper

This evening I opened a bottle of Joh. Jos. Prüm Wehlener Sonnenuhr Auslese 2009 (7.5% ABV) recently purchased from Howard Ripley, a specialist importer of truly great wines from the homes of some of my favourite wines: Germany and Burgundy. As you’d expect from one of the world’s greatest Riesling producers, this was a hugely enjoyable and particularly well-crafted bottle of wine.

The Wehlener Sonnenuhr vineyard,
with its sundial just below the summit

Now I can’t lay claim to having much more than a basic knowledge of the vineyards of the middle Mosel, but I have begun to build up an idea of those whose wines I prefer. For me, the structure and austerity bequeathed to Riesling by blue-grey slate just trumps the riper, tropical fruit characteristics offered by Riesling grown on red slate. Arguably the finest blue slate vineyard of the middle Mosel is Sonnenuhr (“Sundial”), across the river from the town of Wehlen.

The grey-blue
Devonian slate of
Wehlener Sonnenuhr

Named for its eponymous sundial, this feature also boasts of the vineyard’s southwest exposure, ideally located to best retain the warmth of both direct and reflected sunlight. This precipitous and rocky vineyard sits on pure blue Devonian slate, outcrops of which poke out between the vines, and the almost total lack of topsoil forces the vines to sink their roots between the broken and weathered shards of slate down into crevices in the bedrock. People can argue all day as to whether or not minerals are picked up by the roots of a vine and imparted into the finished wine, but the crystalline minerality of Wehlener Sonnenuhr’s wines cannot be disputed.

Its wines, “whether a modest Kabinett or an opulent Beerenauslese, are the epitome of filigree elegance: light in body but intense in flavour, exquisitely balanced and precisely tuned, and capable of the most extra-ordinary longevity” (Stephen Brooks, The Wines Of Germany). The wines that Manfred and Katharina Prüm coax from Wehlener Sonnenuhr are probably the best illustrations of Stephen Brooks’ poetic prose.

Their ’09 Auslese was a very pale greenish gold colour, with tiny beads of CO₂ which caught the light. Its delicate yet firm nose of lime and slate, plus aromas of green apple and honey, intertwined with the subtle whiff of kerosene so typical of a developing Riesling.

Joh. Jos. Prüm,
Wehlener Sonnenuhr
Auslese 2009

The palate had an initial green apple tartness, highlighted by a prickle of CO₂, which promptly opened to display a rich, sweet kaleidoscope of flavours. Greener in character – apple, lime and chamomile – than the yellow/orange tropical fruit and spice of wines from neighbouring vineyards, its blossom and honey ripeness was tempered by mouth watering, quince-like acidity. Perfectly complementing the sweetness, a saline minerality to the finish dried and refreshed the mouth in readiness for the next sip.

A beautiful wine, with an ethereal lightness that belied its sugar level, this was a delicious treat today but will continue to develop for many years to come.

Mosel Masterclass

I have to admit that the name of Weingut Staffelter Hof wasn’t one I was familiar with, until I was invited to a tasting of its wines at Hanging Ditch, that is. When I learned that it is one of the oldest vineyards in Germany, having celebrated its 1150^th birthday just over two weeks ago, my ignorance was all the more embarrassing. Winemaker and current scion of the family that has owned the property since 1805, Jan Matthias Klein, was in England for a few days visiting several independent wine shops to present a selection of his wines.

Jan was a very engaging and interesting chap as well as a very generous host, pouring nine of his wines instead of the advertised seven for a large and appreciative audience.

Staffelter Hof, Mosecco
Perlwein Trocken 2009

First from this most historic of estates was a pair of sparkling wines, beginning with a modern Mosel take on Italian Prosecco, the punningly titled Mosecco Perlwein Trocken 2011 (11% ABV, Riesling, Müller-Thurgau and Sauvignon Blanc, £12.50). Its grapey, grapefruit and white pepper nose led into a fresh, fruity but dry palate that had a touch of apple and a gentle spritz. Carbonated rather than traditional method, the bubbles did start to fade in the glass but this pleasant and uncomplicated wine is ideal for enjoying now, should our summer ever arrive.

Staffelter Hof,
Riesling Sekt Brut 2009

The 2009 Staffelter Hof Riesling Sekt Brut (12.5% ABV, £15.00) was a different kettle of fish altogether. Made with the traditional method, it spent 20 months on its lees and a 2004 Auslese was used as dosage, resulting in a residual sugar level of 10g/l. The medium sized, persistent bead made it tingle and dance on the tongue and autolysis had given a fresh mushroom and bready character to the nose. The palate was dry and elegant, streaked with minerally apple, lime and peach Riesling fruit fading into a long, rich, pithy and slightly savoury finish. Just 2000 bottles were made, drink yours now or at any time over the next 3-4 years.

Staffelter Hof, Wolf
Casanova Rosé 2011

Medium hued, violet-tinged pink and somewhat inexpressive on the nose, the 2011 Wolf Casanova Rosé (11.5% ABV, 70% Pinot Noir and 30% Regent, £12.50) had hints of candyfloss and gentle spice on its soft, dry and not aggressively acidic palate. More savoury than fruity, this was a very easy drink and was nothing like many of today’s overly sweet and alcoholic rosés. Drink now.

Staffelter Hof,
Wolf Magnus
Riesling Trocken 2011

The 2011 Wolf Magnus Riesling Trocken (12% ABV, £12.50) was partly matured in 1000 litre old oak barrels which gave a whisper of tannin to the wine, aiding its longevity. A spicy, green apple and slatey nose complemented the dryness of the fresh, firm, citrus fruited palate with a lick of honeyed white fruit to counter the austerity. Modern, dry and concentrated, this should be drunk over the next five years or so with a good fish pie.

Der Klitzekleine Ring,
Bergrettung Riesling
Trocken 2011

Number five was both an interesting concept and an interesting wine. Named for a pun on the German for alpine rescue, The Bergrettung Riesling Trocken 2011 (12% ABV, £17.50) is one of the wines produced by an admirable collaboration of dedicated Mosel winemakers. The Klitzekleine Ring is a community of eleven wineries in and around the town of Traben-Trarbach, brought together by a mutual love of winemaking tradition and a desire to protect their region’s culture. “Berg” means “Mountain”, in reference to the vertiginous character of Mosel’s finest vineyards, and “Rettung” is German for “Rescue”. Through the production of these wines, The Klitzekleine Ring is dedicated to the recovery, maintenance, and thus rescue, of some of the world’s steepest and most expressive vineyards which would otherwise be abandoned in favour of easier to cultivate land. Good, bad or indifferent, these are wines that deserve to be drunk.

The Klitzekleine Ring Members

This had a riper, more honeyed nose than the previous wine, more mango than peach in character with notes of quince and blossom over. Dry but with a fullness to its body, a firm, slatey acidity balanced the fruit on the palate. Touches of apricot, ginger and honeysuckle were reminiscent of a leaner, drier style of Viognier. Very good indeed and not just because of its provenance, although a year or two of bottle age wouldn’t go amiss.

Staffelter Hof,
Wolf Paradies
Riesling Feinherb 2011

The Wolf Paradies Feinherb 2011 (11% ABV, £12.50), grown on blue and grey slate soils, had an aromatic nose, redolent of apricot and lime. Just off dry and rather exotic on the palate – mango scented oolong tea, honeysuckle and sweet spices - balanced by slatey acidity and a refreshing minerality. Absolutely lovely and again definitely a food wine. It will probably keep for longer, but enjoy this in the prime of its life over the next couple of years.

Steffensberg is a west-facing vineyard situated on a bend in the river where it benefits from both direct and reflected sunlight as well as from beneficial humidity. The Heraldic Kröver Steffensberg Riesling Spätlese 2011 (9%, ABV, £15.00) had  a complex, honeyed ripe fruit and smokey/slatey nose. Peach and pineapple fruit, rich and medium sweet on the palate balanced by a firm, refreshing acidity and a mineral structure that was drying and almost tannic in its effect. An excellent wine, Jan declared that this will keep for twenty years or so, but it’s tough to resist enjoying it now.

The Kröver Steffensberg Vineyard

From the same vineyard, the Heraldic Kröver Steffensberg Riesling Auslese 2005 (9%, ABV, £22.50) showed both the extra degree of maturity and the extra richness that its vintage and its quality level would have you expect. A deeper yellow/green colour than the 2011 Spätlese, the nose was hugely aromatic, bursting with the kerosene and savoury toast aromas of a Riesling with a degree of bottle age plus quite a bit of botrytis character, too. The very complex palate was a fruit salad of fresh and dried yellow fruits with substantial acidity preventing the sweetness from becoming cloying. It was almost delicate despite its richness and viscosity. A beautiful wine that will keep some years yet, although I don’t know how much more it can improve.

Staffelter Hof, Kröver
Steffensberg Riesling
Trockenbeerenauslese 2006

The third wine from the Kröver Steffensberg vineyard, and the final wine of the evening, was the 2006 Trockenbeerenauslese (7.5% ABV, £95.00/37.5cl). The price reflects both the degree of patience and effort required to produce this style of wine and the scarcity of it. Even in the exemplary vintages when conditions permit the production of a Trockenbeerenauslese (TBA), only 50 – 100 litres can be made. German TBAs are unlike any other wines, and this one was no exception: golden in colour, syrupy in texture and with huge quantities of botrytis, raisin/sultana fruit and a nostril-tingling volatility to the nose; the palate was creamy, rich and sweet with such a high level of acidity that the finish was mouthwateringly dry. Whilst this was an unexpected and most generous treat from Jan, I must confess that it was the only wine he served that disappointed me slightly. The sweetness and acidity were beautifully balanced, I just felt that a degree of complexity was missing from the mid palate. Maybe I was being hyper critical, but I don’t think that I was being unreasonable in my expectations of a wine of this calibre.

Although I might not be rushing out to buy the Trockenbeerenauslese, in many ways that can only be a good thing as it leaves me with far more money to spend on the Bergrettung, the Paradies Feinherb and the Kröver Steffensberg Spätlese and Auslese which were all truly lovely wines. If you haven’t yet had the chance to try the wines of Staffelter Hof, head down to Hanging Ditch and educate yourself.

Stuff It

My latest toy

The fruits of my labour

I have a new toy and I’ve just spent the afternoon keeping myself amused with it. The results weren’t perfect, as usually happens when one makes up the rules as one goes along, but they don’t seem too bad for a first attempt. A batch of spicy sujuk and three coils of Italian fennel seed sausage now lurk in the freezer, just awaiting an upturn in the weather so that they can meet their fate over white hot charcoal.

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 Weekend To Remember

It took my dad literally seconds to decide where he would like to spend his 65^th birthday weekend; it didn’t take him very much longer to rustle up a few Ryanair tickets and to book a hire car. Eventually the weekend rolled around and we hopped on a plane to Bergamo before following the autostrada right into the heart of the Valpolicella region. You can take it as read that we ate in a suitably memorable fashion – nothing overly elaborate or creative, but everything was the finest that the area had to offer, prepared simply and elegantly, cooked to perfection.

Equally unsurprisingly, the accompanying wines were not too bad either. I wasn’t especially adventurous in my vinous choices, preferring to stick with firm favourites instead of taking a gamble on unknown labels. Plus I wanted to order wines that I knew dad would order if he hadn’t decided to leave me in charge of the wine lists. We’re already familiar with many of Valpolicella’s finest, and with most of the better bottles (read: “those we wanted to drink”) of Amarone priced at €200+, the esoteric yet typical wines of Zýmé featured heavily on our tables.

Col Vetoraz,
Prosecco Extra Brut

I’m not going to describe all we consumed in case you think I’m gloating, but our first night’s meal really stood out even amongst it’s peers. On our first night we ate and stayed at Trattoria Dalla Rosa Alda, before relocating to two other valleys for the second and third nights. Things began very well, with a couple of bottles of Col Vetoraz Extra Brut Prosecco drunk with homemade grissini under a trellis of vines in the evening sunshine. A sweeter, softer style, its fine bead and creamy mousse perfectly complemented the stone fruit, pear, apple and white blossom flavours.

Dinner began with a selection of tiny antipasti bites which, lovely as they were, only made us realise just how hungry we all were. Il primo piatto quickly evolved into i primi piatti, as it was suggested that we all try two of the restaurant’s own specialities: Tagliatelle Embogoté, tagliatelle dressed with a borlotti bean sauce, followed by a taste of a risotto flavoured with local wild asparagus. Both were spectacular. We drank Zýmé’s 2010 From Black To White Il Bianco (13% ABV) with both of these dishes and it paired them beautifully. An unusual wine, made predominantly from a white mutation of the black grape Rondinella (60%), blended with Golden Traminer (15%), Kerner (15%) and Incrocio Manzoni (10%). White fruits and flowers, a hint of grapefruit; full, rich and zesty with a touch of pithiness to the finish. Not hugely complex, but an absolute delight.

Most people plumped for the Amarone-marinated grilled beef for their secondi piatti, but, as nice as this dish is, I can make it at home. My mum and I plumped for a local speciality: Pastissada De Caval, horse meat braised in red wine and served with polenta. And what a choice it was. Beautifully tender, slightly gamier than beef, coated in a rich red wine sauce and served with the most phenomenal polenta I have ever tasted. Served quite a lot wetter than I make my mine, this was old school, long cooking polenta that tasted so fresh it had a vanilla scented sweetcorn flavour that blew my mind. I love it when such a nominally simple dish transcends even the highest expectations you might have had for it.

Zýmé’s From Black To White Il
Bianco 2010 (l) and Oz Oseleta 2007 (r)

A second wine from the stellar Celestino Gaspari worked like a charm with all of our main courses: Zýmé’s 2007 Oz (13.5% ABV, 100% Oseleta). Oseleta is an old grape variety, native to the Valpolicella area, but it is only in the past fifteen years or so that any vineyard area has been specifically devoted to growing it. Its rustic character and firm structure mean that it is often blended with other grapes, reminiscent of Mourvèdre in France, but Zýmé manages to tame it a little with plenty of oxygenation during its maturation and with twenty four months in a combination of second fill (70%) and new oak (30%) barriques.

The wine was a purple tinged, deep ruby colour which had a cocoa, black fruit, savoury/meaty nose with a salty twang – if something can smell salty. The palate was dry, with plenty of fine grained yet quite firm tannins whose slight bitterness worked nicely with the cocoa, bramble fruit and meaty flavours. A real food wine, but long, graceful and not at all overblown or over extracted. Leanne described this as a “furry” wine, and I know exactly what she meant. I’ve loved this wine ever since I first tasted it out of a cask at Celestino’s winery some years ago and I’m very happy to report that my opinion was not at all altered this time around.

As is my wont, and my waistline, I passed on dessert but the cherry semifreddo and the Pissotta (an olive oil cake that is the specialita della casa) were demolished at various points around the table and both tasted wonderful. Last but not least, we moved on to an espresso or two and a little grappa to help everything settle. I had given the old man a selection of Distilleria Gualco's grappas for his birthday, and he very kindly brought a bottle of the Moscato-based Rubinia along: needless to say the advantages of a restaurant with rooms were soon very apparent as we gradually drifted our way off to bed, grinning and replete.

What Matters

A recent weekend away was a rare chance to spend time with many of my closest friends, as well as an extended excuse for a few drinks. However, as lovely as it was, it wasn’t really the occasion for great wines. That being said, who can go a whole weekend with nothing decent to drink? Fortunately, I never leave home for any extended period of time without either a bottle or two of something particularly palatable stashed in my luggage or a well planned route to a noteworthy local vintner. With a boot full of goodies and, through a joyous twist of fate, with the rather wonderful Worth Brothers Wines at the bottom of the hill, I was all set to have a great time.

Our stay at Nether Burrows Farm was never going to be short of sustenance of any sort, but should three times the expected number of people have turned up we would still have had too much food and drink. Easy drinking was the order of the day(s) and I thought that half a case of Catena’s Alamos Malbec, along with a selection of Innis & Gunn’s cask matured beers, would to fit the bill admirably. Just for the hell of it, I also threw a bottle of Brennivín into the car for a little digestif action.

Brennivín

Now I’ve written before about the perils of returning to a former love, but this time I was going to try to rekindle a holiday romance. And everyone knows how that usually turns out. I fell for the distinctive charms of Brennivín during a couple of days in Reykjavik last December. It gets a lot of bad press considering how difficult it is to buy anywhere other than Iceland, although this might have more to do with it being the traditional accompaniment for Hákarl than to do with its actual taste. Speaking from experience, the flavours of Brennivín work very well with those of the shark, but I'll only be partaking of one of the two again. Brennivín (37.5% ABV) is a potato based schnapps, relatively softly textured, with a flavour of gripe water and a pleasant, not too overwhelming caraway spice. Serve it well chilled with smoked foods or just on its own after dinner. This was the first time I had tried it on home turf, but I'm thrilled to report that this was a holiday affair that survived the flight home.

On the Friday night we put a dent in the Malbec (and in the selection that everyone else brought), and so Saturday saw me taking a trip down the hill to Worth Brothers Wines for half an hour’s peaceful browsing. Sticking to my easy drinking, crowd pleasing brief, I decided against some interesting looking Austrian wines and instead plumped for a New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc and an Australian Cabernet Sauvignon Shiraz blend.

Greywacke,
Sauvignon Blanc
2011

Majella, The Musician
Cabernet Sauvignon
Shiraz 2009

Greywacke is the newish label from Kevin Judd, the winemaker who produced the first twenty five vintages of Cloudy Bay, a pedigree that had put his wines on my “Want To Try” list. His 2011 Sauvignon Blanc (13.5% ABV) was aromatic and finely balanced, its grapefruit pith and gentle tomato leaf nose made it more fruity than vegetal in style. Zesty and bright, white grapefruit and a squeeze of passion fruit gave the palate a restrained tropical note; ripe, concentrated and balanced by fresh acidity and a flinty minerality. I’m not a huge Sauvignon Blanc fan and I’m not really sure what one would drink this with, but it was a very good Marlborough example, not at all overblown, and I enjoyed it despite myself.

The red was Majella's 2009 The Musician Cabernet Sauvignon Shiraz (14.5% ABV) from Coonawarra, although a single sniff was enough to make its origins pretty obvious. The pronounced minty/eucalyptus character to the blackcurrant and peppery, oak spice nose was something that would always makes me think Coonawarra, and these flavours carried through to the full, rich palate. Although not hugely complex, it was bolstered by a touch of mulberry fruit from the Shiraz, a nifty lick of oak, fine tannins and moderate acidity to round things off. The alcohol was not too intrusive, but there was a hint of bitterness to the finish. Drink this over the next couple of years. A big Aussie red such as this wouldn’t have been my usual choice, but it was enjoyed by all concerned and that’s what matters.

We all had a fabulous break; the company, the food, and the drink were delightfully easy and we are already planning our next trip away. What shall I take next time?

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.

Ditching The Expense Of Bordeaux

Thanks to Ben and Mark at the award winning Hanging Ditch Wine Merchants for organising a very enjoyable and interesting Bordeaux tasting dinner earlier this month at the St. James’s Club. Given their ethos of quality being paramount I knew that the wines on offer would not disappoint, but the objective of keeping the wines affordable was going to be more of a challenge. As is true of many other great wine producing regions, it is not difficult to find superb bottles of Bordeaux if money is no object. Unlike many other regions, however, it can be tricky to find great bottles of Bordeaux that are within the reach of a mere mortal’s wallet.

The other issue that counts against Bordeaux’s popularity at most tastings is its affinity with food. It takes a little practice to appreciate the nuances of young Bordeaux tasted in isolation. When you taste it with a meal, however, it’s as if a lightbulb flashes on and suddenly everything becomes clear. That was the logic behind this tasting dinner, plus it was a great chance for Ben and Mark to show off their buying skills!

Champagne
Delamotte Brut NV

Accompanied by a plucky chanteuse and her really rather good renditions of French favourites from yesteryear, Ben and Mark kicked off proceedings in fine style. The first wine, Delamotte Brut (12% ABV) en magnum, was actually the one I most wanted to try and was, perversely, my wine of the evening. Trust me to fall for the supporting actress before the leading lady had even taken to the stage.

Delamotte is a name that will be unfamiliar to most, but, as you would expect from the sister wine of Salon, its quality is unquestionable. A long established label in its own right, Delamotte also uses fruit from Salon’s younger vines as well as wines that don’t quite reach the exacting standards of what is probably the finest of all Champagnes. Predominantly grand cru Chardonnay (50%), the balance being Pinot Noir and Pinot Meunier (30% and 20% respectively), this was bright, fresh and beautifully rounded, not at all aggressive. The rich flavours of white stone fruit and citrus, plus a gentle yeasty autolytic character, made it a beautiful apéritif. A very classy wine and a real bargain (£30/bottle, £60/magnum) when compared to a lot of the Grandes Marques’ non-vintage offerings.

Château Des Antonins
Blanc 2010

As sad as I was to finish my Champagne, when we were asked to take our seats we had both dinner and a varied selection of Bordeaux to look forward to. First up were two dry whites made in completely different styles. Château Des Antonins Blanc 2010 (12% ABV, 70% Sauvignon Blanc and 30% Sémillon, £10) had an initial nose of candied citrus zest and typically vegetal Sauvignon Blanc aromas which faded into gently nutty Sémillon fruit. The palate had a Sauvignon Blanc edge as you’d expect from the blend which was rounded by the Sémillon. Light, fresh and a little frivolous, this was a great apéritif wine although it was rather overwhelmed by the powerful flavours of salmon goujons.

L’Esprit De Chevalier
Blanc 2008

The second white was an altogether different story. The second wine of esteemed Pessac-Léognan estate Domaine de Chevalier, L’Esprit De Chevalier Blanc 2008 (13% ABV, Sémillon and Sauvignon Blanc, £25) spent nine months in oak unlike the stainless steel matured Antonins above. Through no fault of the wine, I struggled to adequately describe the nose of this one, it reminded me of apple juice and had a slightly nutty quality. The palate showed lemony fruit, a nutty/oaky weightiness and just a hint of an oxidative character that called to mind a traditional style white Rioja. With two years of bottle age and a soujourn in oak  that the Antonins lacked, this was a more serious wine whose richness and complexity were a lovely paring with the breadcrumbed fish.

Château Roc De
Pellebouc

A trio of reds from a trio of vintages was poured alongside the main course of slow cooked rump of beef with root vegetables. From Baudouin Thienpont (brother of Jacques, owner of Le Pin) came the 2007 Château Roc De Pellebouc (12.5% ABV, 90% Merlot and 10% Cabernet Sauvignon, £12.50), a modern, lightly oaked style of Bordeaux from Entre-Deux-Mers, just across the Dordogne from Saint-Émilion. Ruby coloured and showing a degree of maturity, the Merlot was immediately apparent on the nose, although the Cabernet Sauvignon did seem to exert an undue influence considering the disproportionate amount in the blend. It added blackcurrant, pencil shavings and earthy aromas to the plumminess of the Merlot. The palate showed bright fruit tempered by pepper, spice and earth, all tempered by fresh acidity and moderate tannins. Elegant and, to me, a very traditional style of Bordeaux that was lovely when tried on its own but didn’t quite manage to stand up to the beef.

Château Bel-Air
Graves De Vayres
Fût De Chêne

Red wine number two was also from Entre-Deux-Mers, but from the tiny appellation of Graves De Vayres, so called because of the deep gravel parcels that distinguish it. Château Bel-Air Graves De Vayres 2006 Fût De Chêne (13% ABV, 55% Merlot, 30% Cabernet Sauvignon and 15% Cabernet Franc, £17.50) was produced by Philippe Serey-Eiffel, the great great grandson of the engineer behind the eponymous tower. This was a younger looking, deeper coloured, more purple wine than the Pellebouc, even though it was a year older. The nose had dark fruit, barnyardy, oaky/vanilla/coffee aromas and a greener edge to it than the previous wine, but the palate was softer, oakier and somehow less typical. To my palate it was a modern, international style of wine that worked very well with the main course, but somehow it just didn’t shout of its origins.

Château Barrail
Du Blanc 2008

The third red was Château Barrail Du Blanc 2008 (13.5% ABV, 70% Merlot and 30% Cabernet Franc, £17.50), a Saint-Émilion Grand Cru exclusively distributed the Mouiex family that owns Châteaux Pétrus, La Fleur-Pétrus, Hosanna, Trotanoy, and Magdelaine to name just a few! Despite an annual production of only around 1,500 cases, there has been substantial recent investment in completely refurbishing the estate’s cellar enabling a traditional style winemaking to continue at the highest quality level. Sixty per cent of the wine is matured in oak, half of which is new, whilst the remainder goes into stainless steel.

It displayed soft red and black fruit with a dusting of pepper and capsicum spice from the Cabernet Franc. Less overtly fruity and oaky than the last wine, it had an astringent/medicinal touch to the finish that I really rather enjoyed. The most interesting of the three reds and my favourite, even though its lighter style couldn’t compete with the beef.

Château De Rayne
Vigneau 2003

Cheese was served instead of dessert, the Stilton being a better match for the Sauternes than the Mrs. Kirkham Lancashire. I was unsure about the choice of Château De Rayne Vigneau 2003 (13.5% ABV, 80% Sémillon and 20% Sauvignon Blanc, £25) due to the abnormal heat of the vintage. Was there going to be sufficient acidity? Had the heat hampered the growth of botrytis? The amber hue of the wine didn’t do much to allay my worries, but the nose was certainly promising with its rich aromas of barley sugar, dried apricot, marmalade and ripe mango. Similar flavours carried through to the palate, balanced by an unexpectedly taut acidity that kept it vital. It was definitely as good as it will get so plan to drink up any bottles you might have, but it was an exceedingly pleasant drink and a very agreeable surprise.

The only thing I felt that was missing was a Cabernet Sauvignon dominated, left bank style of Bordeaux which would have been an interesting contrast to the Merlot based blends shown as well as a great pairing with the beef. That being said, it's always an adventure to tread the path less travelled and I'm not sure I would have tried the selection above if left to my own devices. A big thank you once again to Ben and to Mark, our ever charming and informative host, for a very enjoyable evening.

Giuseppe Quintarelli: Never To Be Forgotten

Giuseppe Quintarelli

Giuseppe Quintarelli, the incomparably gifted and inspirational maestro of the Valpolicella region, has passed away aged eighty-four after suffering from Parkinson's disease for some years. Each of his wines, from his Valpolicella to his Amarone Riserva, has such effortlessly beautiful poise, concentration and sense of place that it is easy to overlook the dedication, the skill and the love that the quietly unassuming "Bepi" lavished upon them. A deeply religious man, he believed in patience, diligence and the pursuit of perfection in the vineyard and the cellars. "The secret of my wine? I follow my rules, I do not run behind the fashions. You must have rules, but also update without abandoning traditions.”

Never one to latch onto a current trend, at times he struggled to sell his wines. As Burton Anderson observed: “It’s simply that the philosophical Bepi, after travelling and observing the progressive techniques of others, decided that there was nothing to be gained from changing the methods learned from his father and grandfather.”

A label from Giuseppe Quintarelli's
Amarone Della Valpolicella 1997

His approach was renowned as being strongly traditionalist, with only a few concessions to modernity. Although his Amarone spends seven years in Slavonian oak botti, and it was only relatively recently that labels ceased to be hand written and hand applied to bottles, S. Quintarelli was relentlessly experimental even as he adhered to the traditional techniques passed down to him. He was the first in the region to plant Cabernets Sauvignon and Franc, using them to brilliant effect in his barrique-aged appassimento wine Alzero, as well as blending them with Corvina in his Primofiore. He began production of a dry white wine, something very unusual in the Valpolicella region, and he was also the first person in the area to experiment with Nebbiolo.

Strict grape selection resulting in uncommonly low yields for the Veneto, combined with painstaking attention to detail and the patience to allow his wines to evolve in their own time, means that a bottle bearing the Quintarelli name is never going to be cheap. Prominent Italian wine journalist Franco Ziliani puts it far better than I ever could when he states “the wines of Quintarelli are completely different from the standardised, repetitive and boring wine commodities that you so often find among Amarones today. They are very expensive, rare and not so easy to understand. They are wines that require intelligence, experience, culture, patience and time, all elements so different from the simple, fast appreciation of wine today.”

The last time I visited S. Quintarelli, I was fortunate enough to taste most of his then available wines. His 1995 and 1997 Amarone were nostalgic delights: powerful but fresh, ripe and voluptuous without being at all overblown, yet with the rustic, spiced, earthy character once so typical of the region. The stunning 1995 Recioto was one of the most shockingly complex, harmonious and beautiful wines I think I will ever taste, sweeter and more approachable in its youth than the Amarone and surely the wine that completely defines the phrase vino di meditazione.

“Quintarelli was the guru of Valpolicella,” says Romano Dal Forno, who studied under Quintarelli whilst establishing his own winery. “He was an example, especially in those years where quality was not the main concern of winemakers in general.”

In a world where science and technique so often supplant passion and respect, I can only hope that the uncompromising, obsessive and perfectionistic devotion that drove S. Quintarelli will be continued by his successor and nurtured in the way that its unique results demand.

I send my sincere condolences to all of S. Quintarelli’s family, and to everyone fortunate enough to have had their lives enhanced by the man and his wines.