A real Chateauneuf-du-Pape

The majority of CdP produced is red and, very unfortunately, has developed into a brand. Brands attract customers, customers demand lower prices and, inevitably, something has to give. That something is quality. However, white CdP is not a brand and prices reflect the true costs of making good wine and the result was experienced on Sunday.

Clos des Papes 2011 is made from five grape varieties in equal measures – Roussane, Grenache Blanc, Clairette, Picpoul and Bourboulenc – being first produced in 1955. (There is also a red version which has been made for over 100 years.) Only four hectares are used to make the white, accounting for 10% of their production – about a thousand cases each year. The wine does not meet oak at any stage of its production or ageing.

This was a very good wine with a gently lemony nose and of mid-yellow colour. Not strongly varietal (five grapes, remember) but with a rich, slightly almond mid-palate and a fresh, floral finish. I find Rhone whites difficult to characterise – stone fruits has become a cliche – but there was a notable final taste of delicate fruit (quince?). Whatever it was it finished the wine beautifully. The feel was weighty.

Great white wine – I’ll look out for the red.

[Richard: bought en primeur from TWS six years ago, around £35 which is expensive but the wine is quality and in high demand, being one of the best CdP whites available. It is maturing well (blogged once before, in 2015) and should last for a few more years yet (4 bottles left). Lots of complexity married with subtlety, even at 15%. We, or possibly I, have tried a red Clos des Papes but it didn’t get blogged.]

Chilean pinot noir

This is a style we don’t often blog – I can only find one other post (a Cono Sur) – but we have tasted this wine (Matetic) before. The label is very distinctive and we both recalled it, a 2007, I think. However this didn’t really say ‘pinot’ to me even though it was a classy wine, with smokey, cabernet franc hints and a sweetish rather lean but complex taste with lots of fruit. Best viewed as a halfway house between New Zealand and Burgundian styles, very drinkable and to be recommended.

[Geoff: I tasted, and was impressed by, this wine at a TWS Chilean tasting. It didn’t disappoint on Sunday. Middling acidity, cooked cherries, long and obviously well-made. The rim colour was very slightly brown, suggesting it’s in its drinking window but it was still fine on Monday.]

One of  the great questions of the age, much beloved of wine critics when they have a column to fill is ‘what wine goes with chocolate?’ The above is a definite possibility, served with home made chocolate cake. A classic orangey dessert wine nose (I though it might be a Sauternes or a Barsac) with enough acidity to provide balance and interest. This was an eiswein (Darting Estate Fronhof Riesling 2012) and the flavour was beautifully concentrated. Very drinkable and only 8%.

[Geoff: M & S are selling this off at £13 (half bottle) and it’s worth a try. I love German sweet wines because of their balance and this was no exception. Later on it tasted like gentle lime marmalade. Gorgeous.]

Wine with an identity crisis

It’s vaguely troubling to read that, in this age of changing norms, wine production, normally so conservative, is not exempt.

The Cote Roannaise – and its neighbour Cotes de Forez – are in the upper reaches of the the long river Loire, close to where it rises in the Massif Central. The two regions are 50 miles south west of Beaujolais and, not surprisingly, use (solely) the Gamay grape for their AC reds and roses. This wine is technically a Loire red showing all the hallmarks of a Beaujolais, right down to the banana smell of carbonic maceration. Domaine Serol’s Perdriziere 2016 was a challenge to place, and I didn’t succeed as I was fumbling round with the Ardeche (further south, different river). I got France, though!

Colours – very purple, light red core. Smells of bananas and fresh red fruits, slight strawberry/raspberry with a high sour acidity. The palate was tangy, fresh, savoury, gentle with an attractive unripe flavour as wells being very pure. Intriguing and great with light food, slightly chilled. You could close your eyes and believe you were in the rolling hills of Beaujolais.

[Richard: unlike Geoff I thought this tasted nothing like Beaujolais – and I knew what is was. Lots of red fruit but, yes, we have no bananas. That very characteristic Gamay aroma was not something I could pick up. Nevertheless a decent drink with lots of flavour accompanying the 12% alcohol. Not much complexity though, which leads me to suggest it was overpriced at £16 (TWS). I think a Beaujolais at a similar price would offer better value.]

 

No Popes were involved in the making of this wine…

Many years ago we had a few summer holidays in Tuscany. Trying the various wines on offer was always interesting, as was the food of course. Occasionally the two met when we had a dessert of cantucci (hard almond biscuits) dipped in vin santo, a sweet wine (probably named after Santorini where it is also made rather than any Holy Communion reference, although, as is common with wine, this is disputed). But I’d forgotten all about it and hadn’t drunk it since then, not least because it is quite expensive, something I don’t recall from those holidays.

So when Geoff presented me with a glass (Da Vinci 2010) on Sunday night I was stumped. A bit sherry, a bit Madeira but clearly neither. Deep orange/amber with a complex nose, hints of polish, as with some old sherries, a sweet/dry, tangy moreish taste with lots of body. Very good and something I’ll look out for, despite my increasing aversion to dessert wines.

[Geoff: It’s wonderful to try something for the first time; I’d never tasted ‘Holy Wine’ before now. It’s from Empoli near the Chianti region and made from the Trebbiano grape and has its own DOC. M & S were selling it off (not surprisingly) so it was relatively cheap. Lovely taste. There are lots of stories about how it’s made –  and all readily available on the web. Go on, have a look.]

Muscadet?

A pale yellow wine, rather waxy and viscous in appearance, faint – even though decanted –  smell of lemon and melon, attractive mouth feel, medium length but without any strong distinguishing flavours. I thought it might be a muscadet but it didn’t have the chalkiness on the nose I usually associate with the wine and which was very evident when we last tasted the style. This was surprising since it was exactly the same wine.

Unfortunately I kept this thought to myself so the wine (Domaine Haute Févrie Monnières-Saint Fiacre 2014) went unrecognised until the label was revealed.

What a shame.

There are some wines which hint at how good they could be, but …. and this was one of them. Mourvedre is a difficult grape to grow successfully, needing high temperatures, supplies of magnesium and potassium as well as limited but regular water supplies. It also seems attract a variety of pests. So, not a lot going for it, then. The Mourvedre was supported by Grenache, Cinsault and a smidgeon of Syrah.

The wine we tried was Domaine Tempier’s 2007 Bandol from Provence and we could sense this was a quality wine. It had a lovely deep colour and slight strawberry aromas that, on the palate, showed some tertiary notes (ageing) of cooked black fruits. This wine had been well-made and showed great development over it’s 12 years.

So, what spoilt it? A smell and taste of woodiness that persisted in addition to hazy sediment. What a shame because had been quality there. I think Richard has got some more – here’s hoping.

[Richard:, yes, got a few left. From a mixed half case of Domaine Tempier. A bottle blogged in 2015 was fine, without the wood taint, nor did it have, as I recall, the sediment. Perhaps the two are linked? Anyway, a classy wine, allowing for the fault. TWS refunded the cost (£28) saying they were sorry the wine was ‘corked’, which it wasn’t.]

Tetramythos 2017

Jancis Robinson’s grape bible describe this wines grape variety (Kalavryta) as not only “a minor variety” but “a very minor variety” coming, as it does, from the village of Kalavryta in the northern Peloponnese in Greece. It comes from four mountainside hectares, is organic and reached Richard via The Wine Society. It’s 12.5% ABV.

A low intensity red with a slight brown rim in appearance it had obvious red fruit aromas with notable acidity but also a deeper note of cooked red fruits – strawberry in particular. The palate reinforced the bouquet with the addition of cherries and a pleasant bitter finish which may benefit from being slightly chilled.

This is a light Greek wine, probably great with moussaka, not particularly complicated but one you would drink in local taverna. Interesting to try.

[Richard: we’ve blogged this winemaker before – a retsina – but never this grape. Apparently there are only four hectares grown worldwide. A decent, unpretentious drink, especially after exposure to air, with lots of fruit, a little spice and some structure. Good value at £9.50.]

 

Right grape, wrong continent…

This (Riccitelli 2017) was one of the most colourless wines I can recall drinking, looking like a glass of water when viewed from above, side-on there was a very pale pink/grey tinge. Some lemon on the nose with a hint of farmyard and smoke. A long, complex, lemon based taste with a sweetish finish. Thin in the mouth but not unpleasantly so. My first guess was Old World, as it tasted rather ‘cool climate’ but, having been told that was wrong, I went for pinot gris, which was correct, to my surprise. From Argentina as it happens.

[Geoff: The Uco Valley is high, 2500 – 3200 feet, creating ideal conditions for white grape growing as the acidity levels make for a fresh wine, as this was. PG can be rather cloying but this certainly wasn’t and it had some attractive complexity. This was a find at Majestic – there’s no more at our local store but it’s worth looking for. Great label btw.]

Sendiana 2014 – and a debate.

This Lebanese wine is “hand-crafted” by a monk, Father Charbel Hajjar, and sold by the Wine Society. Lebanon (originally as Phoenecia) has been wine making for 5000 years, the best vines being grown at altitude and the grapes vinified in oak, which is a common tree species in the Lebanon. Sendiana mean oak in Lebanese.

It’s a five grape cocktail (Cab Sav, Merlot, Syrah, Grenache, Mourvedre) which makes an interesting group of aromas – sweet plums, strawberry, tobacco – and surprisingly fragrant. The colours are deep red/black with a slight suggestion of age on the rim. The palate was as richly complex as the nose, the tobacco was overt with the finish being intriguingly sweet and dry. Richard said it was a “second day wine” which probably means the tannins – still noticeable – have been tamed somewhat. It would match a lamb dish or a spicy tagine beautifully.

It prompted discussions about the Old World (Europe) and New World (The Rest) wine titles. Where does the Near East sit? Does it pre-date the Old World epithet? In which case is it Old Old World? Or Old New World? Or New, as in recently discovered, Old World?

[Richard: ‘hand crafted’ is up there with ‘specially selected’ and ‘carefully vinified’ as far as Geoff and I are concerned. Nevertheless this was pretty good. I’m a big fan of Chateau Musar, the Lebanese wine par excellence so when TWS offered this with a ‘producer supported discount’ I bought three at £14.50 each, hoping to widen my experience of the area. Actually nothing like Musar, much less full on, but still a big wine with rich, savoury notes. Needs decanting both for flavour and because there is a lot of sediment.]

Too little, too late…

 

This was a weekend of repeats. Last November I blind tasted a chianti but couldn’t identify it. This time round I was faced with bright, clear and deep red wine with a fine, acidic, slightly green nose. The taste had plenty of tannin and was rather raw and lacking in generosity. I had no idea apart from figuring out it was Italian, by a process of elimination. But, as before, I could not get any Sangiovese characteristics, like cherry. So I admitted defeat. Fifteen minutes later though (and despite the wine being decanted previously) a faint but rich cherry aroma appeared in the glass. This improved the wine (La Pieve 2016 Chianti Moriniello) but not enough to persuade me that it was worth purchasing.

[Geoff: I was recommended this Connolly’s wine and tried it in an attempt to restore my faith in Chianti. It improved over the evening, becoming more cooked cherry-like but only stayed short/medium in length and still overtly tannic. It certainly needed food. Not bad but I’m still struggling with this Italian region’s quality levels.]