The other cabernet…

One of our most tasted grapes made another appearance on Sunday. I thought there was some Cabernet Sauvignon in the blend but this was pure Cabernet Franc (Bretêche Domaine de la Chevalerie, Bourgueil 2014). Some age in the glass, blackcurrant nose but not green which is a CF characteristic, thin mouth feel but persistent and sour in a good way. Slightly chilled as well which prevented any flabbiness. Very good.

[Geoff: Wine making has been in the Caslot family since 1640; they are now in their fourteenth generation, situated next to the village of Bourgueil on 33 ha which they farm organically. And it showed in the wine. This was in the richer style of Loire red, from a very good vintage, but still with the trademark austerity and grip. I detected a slight farmard whiff, as well. A slight sediment showed this was still developing. You never quite know what style you’re going to get with Loire reds – this was the more serious. Really enjoyable.]

 

The cool south

The Languedoc is considered an amphitheatre of Mediterranean heat. And yet there are cooler areas and Sunday’s wine is from Dmne. de Clovallons, La Roque, north of Herault, where it is considered too cold to grow the usual southern red grapes. Catherine Roque, in the 1980s, planted Pinot Noir and Riesling – amongst other varieties – and these two grapes prefer cool to moderate climates. Palagret is a blend of PN (20%) and Syrah, another grape that can ripen in moderate heat where it produces gentle fruit and pepper notes. We tried the 2015 vintage. (12.5% ABV).

The colour was an intense ruby, slightly purple. It had a slight rustic, farmyard nose which soon vanished to reveal a mix of red and black fruits with some perfume. The Syrah’s pepper smell was a giveaway and very pleasant, reminding me of the northern Rhone. The tannins were soft (15 months in wood) but enough a structure for the red/black fruits. The finish was dry and long. A very well made wine, interesting, not shy with lots of character. Good value at about £15. Well found Richard. Clovallons are a bio-dynamic producer btw.

Interesting fact, courtesy of Benjamin Lewin. If the Languedoc were a country its wine production would roughly equal that of Argentina – 161 million cases.

[Richard: in a mixed case from Terroir Languedoc, so I can’t claim any credit and I chose this bottle for Sunday night because it was only 12.5%, the rest are all 14%+ as is more typical for the region. Very enjoyable, lots of interest, easy to drink and, I think, our first ever Syrah/Pinot blend.]

 

 

The answer lies in the soil

On Saturday night R and I both tasted – remotely – a brut champagne  called Gremillet from the Gremilles family in Bar-sur-Aube where they farm 43 ha. This is in the southern tip of the designated Champagne region, close to Troyes. The subsoil here is mostly a Kimmeridgian clay as opposed to the lighter chalk in the Marne. In this respect, the Aube is identical to Chablis (close by) and Sancerre – I’ll return to this below. The climate is also slightly warmer.

The technicalities:- blend is 70/30 (PN & Chard.); 20% reserve wine; aged minimum 22 months; sweeter wine dosage (liquer d’expedition) of 9g/l sugar.

With a small mousse, pale yellow/light gold and bright appearance, the wine had fresh, floral aromas rather than the toastiness of some champagnes. It smelt young. The medium length was dryish – R. detected sweetness more than I did – but we both picked up a certain hardness. To me, it tasted rather like a sparkling wine from the Macon rather than a classic champagne. I’ve got two more which I’ll keep because it may develop quite nicely over the next 12 months. Cost £23.50 from Worth Brothers in Lichfield – reduced from £28.50.

Historically, there was always tension between the Aube and Marne regions. 1907 saw Aube excluded from Champagne causing riots in 1911 when some champagne houses were sacked. The Aube area was re-admitted to 1927 when the vineyard areas were expanded. L’Aube makes up 21% of the total champagne vineyards.

[Richard: I think these were returned stock from a Covid-cancelled wedding and, without wishing to be too disparaging, I was reminded of the sort of celebratory wine you get at those occasions. Light, inoffensive, not as powerful as you might expect given the Pinot dominance, little evidence of mature wine and little typicity. I’ve stayed in Bar-sur-Aube and remember the champagnes as having plenty of character so this was disappointing. I’ll keep my remaining two as well for another joint tasting which we all hope will be in person and not over the phone.]

 

 

 

 

What’s in name?

Another telephone tasting with R. and I walking between houses carrying a bottle (me) or a decanter (R) with what look like urine samples in them. It works but the phone tasting is remarkably short.

Txakoli (pronounced zer-KOAL-y) wines have three DOs in north west Spain. This was the Txakoli de Getaria DO but all three are in the same style – light, slightly spritz, high in acidity and meant to be drunk colder than most whites. They are a foil for the spicy, hot foods and seafood dishes of the Basque region. The grape’s name, Hondarrabi Zuri,  sounds as though it needs some PR company with a rebranding brief. (All these unusual names are courtesy of the Basque, rather than Spanish, language.) The wine, Ameztoi, came from Les Caves de Pyrenes and costs about £12.60.

Whilst having a very underwhelming nose the flavour was remarkably pronounced with its high lemon acidity, light body and medium length. Simple and refreshing (think Vinho Verde), its coldness increased the perception of acidity which balanced what became quite a sweet wine as it warmed. An unusual refreshing summer aperitif. Nice.

[Richard: another from the low-alcohol case from Cave de Pyrene, this being 10.5%. Geoff’s summed it up pretty well and it’s certainly a warm weather wine. We’ve just cancelled our June holiday to St Jean de Luz, south of Biarritz where wines like these are plentiful. Maybe next year.]

Blind Spot

There is a wine or brand called Blind Spot, exclusive to the Wine Society but this post is about a blind spot of mine, namely the Sémilllon grape. We don’t taste it very often but I never get it. The latest occasion was yesterday when Geoff  left a measure of a mystery wine (Clos Floridene, Graves Blanc 2015) on the doorstep. Quite a deep yellow, some melon on the nose (which may have been the 1% Muscadelle in the blend), rich, medium length. The other grape is Sauvignon Blanc (44%) which I couldn’t detect at all. So, a well integrated, appealing wine which has appeared here before, in the 2008 vintage, when the percentage of Muscadelle was around 20%.

[Geoff: Clos Floridene is part of a group of Bordeaux vineyards, which also includes Doisy-Daene and Ch. Reynon, under the Denis Dubourdieu Domaines banner. DD was a notable wine-maker (he died in 2016) and advisor to many chateaux. Floridene is has the attractive sour, dryness offset by the richer, ginger-noted Semillon. This became more noticeable on the second day. It’s stocked by the better Co-ops. Good value, traditional white Bordeaux.]

 

German wines and champagnes.

A huge topic. I conducted a simple experiment which I’ll explain later. Firstly, a comparison of residual sugar levels (RS) i.e. the sugars left in wine after the alcoholic fermentation has finished, of German still wines and champagne. It is measured in grams per litre (g/l)

Champagne Brut Natur < 3,    Champ. Extra Brut < 6,   Brut < 12.

German wine Trocken (Dry) < 9,  Halb-trocken < 18

Why this experiment? When I run tastings the criticisms of champagne are that it is too acidic and/or too dry whilst the criticism of German wine is that it’s too sweet. The respective grades above show that a wine in the driest German wine category could be more than three times as sweet as the wine in the driest champagne category. Which, on the face of it, supports the criticisms.

Now it starts to get complicated – or interesting, depending on your point of view. Firstly, we can’t taste any sweetness under 4 g/l. I experimented with a water/sugar mix and whilst my wife couldn’t taste sugars at 4g/l., she could at 9 g/l. So far so good. But wine is not water.

Tannins (in reds), light body and acidity enhance the dryness of wine; a fuller body and alcohol will make a wine seem sweeter. German Riesling is a light and notably acidic wine so that high sugar level appears less on tasting. In fact, if it didn’t have that sugar it would be unacceptably dry to many palates. Champagne’s acidity and lightness will enhance its dryness which may be why Brut Natur seems too dry for some palates and the added final sugar dose is required not just for fermentation. It also explains why the fuller bodied styles of vintage champagne are generally well received.

And just to muddy the waters some more. Article 58 of EU sweetness levels – for sparkling wines only – state that “the sugar content may not differ by more than 3 grams per litre from what appears on the product label”. I’ll leave you to work out how that could make Brut Natur, Extra Brut and Brut meaningless as guides.

[Richard: received opinion seems to be that we all taste differently. I know I find more sweetness in a wine than Geoff does, which is a shame as I have a palate which favours savoury tastes. I must try adding salt to red wine which apparently adds flavour. Perfect lockdown experiment.].

 

Palamino Fino – vino de mesa

“One of the dullest grapes in the world” states Oz Clarke’s Grapes and Wines book. That lack of character is what’s needed for the making of sherry where the craft is in the process of manufacturing. But does it stand up as a table wine – a vino de mesa? The wine Ube Paganilla is made by Bodegas Cota 45 in Sanlucar where it’s aged eight months in old sherry casks, under a yeast flor for the last two. So is it manzanilla, without the added alcohol? Well, there are similarities in colour and smell.

Pale lemon with very little viscosity, it had a slight oxidation on the nose. However, it had a pronounced fresh hedgerow aroma which made me think it was an English wine, a wine from a cold climate. How wrong could I be? There was the clean notes of unripe melon or slight quince as it warmed up. The palate was sour, highly acidic and with no richness. Very light in body, absolutely no sweetness with medium length. Whilst not quite agreeing with Clarke, I wouldn’t rush to have it again.

It is planted, albeit in small quantities, around the world – SW France Listan, Portugal Malvasia Rei, South Africa Fransdruif, California Golden Chasselas. And Cyprus – where it used for making fortified wines – aaah the old Cyprus sherry days.

[Richard: on opening and on first taste I  was really impressed with this, liking the sourness on both the aroma and taste. But gradually these impressions began to pall and the lack of complexity began to tire my palate. Very interesting and only 11%. I have a another UBE bottle from a different vineyard so Geoff may well be trying it again.]

 

 

 

‘The earth’s mantle…

…thrusts up above the gentle town of Franschhoek, a wild slice of untamed mountain on which sits a farm named Wildeberg…a happy band of idealists recently craned their necks up at this hillside and, dizzy with hope, decided to give it a go.’

It’s easy to smile at the purple prose some wine makers produce but, as ever the question is, does the wine measure up? This was our first distance tasting, not a great success since poor wifi meant we lost video and ended up talking on the phone. My wine, tasted blind, was Wildeberg Terroirs Chenin Blanc 2018. The use of the word ‘terroir’, meant to indicate a sense of place, may raise expectations, although not to me, since I’ve never been to South Africa. Anyway – pale yellow, rather damp, wet nose with some stone fruit, suprisingly rich and sweet at first with a dry, slightly hard finish. I don’t drink much Chenin but was able to get to the country/grape once I knew it was New World. So, not bad but we’ve had better SA Chenins, most notably the superb Cartology in 2018.

[Geoff: Remotely, the tasting and discussion was over in fifteen minutes – it normally takes an hour face-to-face. Draw your own conclusions. Yes, I’d agree with Richard’s assessment; it wasn’t as full as some Chenins which might mean it was too young. Went okay with food but on its own, not so sure.]

Old new Rioja

Having been critical recently about the trend to ‘modern’ style Rioja it would be remiss of me not to mention this wine, a Contino 2014 Reserva from Waitrose (£19 with a 25% reduction). Despite the comparative youth it was ready to drink and had a wonderful old school taste. Red fruit but lots of dark notes as well – tar, leather chocolate, with a purity and freshness retained.  (Aged two years in oak, Tempranillo with about 10% Graciano, and a tiny addition of Mazuelo and Garnacha.). I definitely should have bought a few but it is now out of stock.

[Geoff: We’re still not tasting together, but we’re going to deliver some wine to each other tonight (Sun 19th) and can therefore blog the same wines. 

btw while the cat’s away etc etc R’s obviously using some very dodgy glasses (see above). I have been offered these type of glasses in a restaurant and asked the waiter to replace them. They’re good for water but wine …?  🙂 ] 

The glass is made by Riedel, who pioneered specific wine glass shapes for specific grapes. I saw these going cheap in TK Maxx and thought I’d give them a try. I often hold a glass by the bowl if it contains red, so the lack of a stem isn’t an issue. Clearly not a white wine glass though.

 

 

Re-Boizel

The last time we tried a champagne from Boizel (a 2008) we were unimpressed, so I wasn’t expecting much from this non-vintage bottle called Brut Réserve, part of a mixed case from TWS, bought in December. In fact it was delicious. Plenty of mature wine evident on the nose and palate palate giving body and richness – their website says 30%. A slightly higher dosage (8 gr/l) doubtless helped as did the predominance of Pinot Noir (30% Chardonnay, 55% Pinot Noir, 15 % Pinot Meunier). One I’d certainly buy again.