Moschofilero

Last week my selection was made to help me prepare for standing up and banging on about wine (blah, blah, tannin, blah, acid, balance, blah...) and this week's wine has also been selected to assist with preparations, of a sort. Soon, together with a regular collection of friends, The One and I will be heading off to a Greek island for some late summer sun and yesterday evening we all met to babble excitedly about the prospect and agree the rules of engagement. I knew Moussaka had been prepared to provide a theme for our gathering and so I thought it best to choose a Greek wine to accompany it. I did, but that one was red, so I also took along:

Week M (2021) Moschofilero & Roditis 2020. £8.50 M&S.

It doesn't come from an island, but it's close enough. As the name suggests it is a blend of two grape varieties, being 80% Moschofilero and 20% Roditis. In medical circles this latter grape sounds like the inflammation of a small part of the eye. Or of something else which doesn't warrant further thought, but it isn't. It is a citrus flavoured fruit used often in the production of Retsina, that favourite of Greek holidays, and also frequently distilled into Ouzo to be brought home and ignored.  Pink skinned and delicate it was once more widely grown but fell victim to phylloxera and lost its place somewhat.

The majority partner, Moschofilero, is another pink skinned producing more aromatic flavours and is said to be so versatile that it justifies having the nickname of 'Chameleon'. Versatile may also be a euphemism for unpredictable, it seems.

The chameleon we encountered starting by providing a passable imitation of a Sauvignon Blanc and then morphing into something like a Pays de Gascogne, being less sharp. It had the aromatics and the floral tones and was bright and lively, but there was also something a little earthy that, at first, I was unsure about. On passing the bottle around the table as the discussion ranged between which hire cars we would have and whether skinny-dipping would be permissible (it isn't, in my opinion. The ages range from mid-fifties to mid-sixties so how could it be?) one of my dining companions described the wine as 'delicious', so it must be, especially when the bottle is nearing emptiness.

My wine merchant recommended I should try it with saganki...ok, let me rephrase that. It says on the M&S label that it goes well with saganaki, described as prawns grilled in tomato sauce, or leaving it to mature for a couple of years to let more honeyed tones develop. Two problems with this. Firstly, the cap had been unscrewed and the contents polished off within approximately five hours after purchase, so there goes the honey, and secondly, I thought saganaki was fried cheese! That last point sent me scurrying off to uncle Google to check that what I had really enjoyed a few years ago on Kefalonia really was a) fried cheese and b) called saganaki. Turns out it was, on both counts, but that a saganki is in fact the frying pan and that anything cooked in it can be called by the same name. The most common (like me) is the cheese dish, but anything goes. A bit like Teppanyaki, I assume. Or barbeque. As it happens I am not a big fan of the prawn, but am of the cheese so if the opportunity arises I will test that second pairing.

The red, in case you are curious, was a Xinomavro. This grape has featured in my exploration twice, exactly a year apart, in August 2014 & 2015.

Looking forward to seeing the shimmering sea up close and will report back on any local discoveries later in the season.

Buy again? I doubt it. Its ok but not particularly compelling.

Lisboa Bonita

As the pandemic restrictions are slowly easing I have been approached to dust off my wine presentation skills and share with some old friends the flavours of Portugal, in a few weeks' time. With that in mind I trundled down the hill to the ever reliable M&S and chose this week's wine by way of revision.

Week L (2021) Lisboa Bonita 2019. £9 M&S. 

Portugal offers a great variety of grapes, many of which are not found in many other places and some of which are even if it is under different names, and an equally great variety of regions, climates and styles.

To start with the grapes. There are loads of them and in this bottle alone we have six of them. The variety representing the smallest proportion in terms of percentage of volume is is Syrah (5%), not an Portuguese speciality. As I have commented before, I can't be certain that it is necessary but accept the winemaker thinks it is.

We have Touriga Nacional also at  5%, a heavy weight Port grape that is both fruity and tannic with complex aromas of cherries, bergamot (I love Earl Grey, don't you?) and a pinch of pepper.

Moving up the percentages we have Touriga Franca (10%). Less heavy with floral characteristics and good colour, followed by the wonderfully named Alicante Bouschet (15%). This is one of the rarer 'teinturier' grapes, meaning that, unusually, the flesh of the fruit is not clear but coloured red. It is a crossing between Petit Bouschet and the ubiquitous Granache.

Next up: Tinta Roriz (15%), better known to the world as Tempranillo, one of the great Spanish varieties and a stalwart of many wines from Rioja to Ribeira del Duero which is the river that becomes the Douro when it crosses the border into Portugal becoming as it does so the home of Port wine. 

Finally we have the two predominant varieties at 25% each, Castelao, also known as Periquita bringing raspberry and a hint of tar when aged, and Caladoc. This last grape is a French crossing of Grenache and Malbec.

This lovely little lot have been fermented, blended and stored in French and American oak for six months before bein bottled and sent to a supermarket near you. I has 13.5% abv and is packed with flavour.

The first thing you notice when pouring a glass is that it is inky-black and only reveals any deep red colours when the glass is tilted to let some light into its lighter rim. Then, on tasting, it is dark fruit, full-bodied mouth-feel and tannin. It is not a summer afternoon wine unless you are washing down a hefty bar-be-que and intend to have a nap before dessert. The flavours are quite complex and there is something pleasantly unusual about it. I hope that means it represents some of the individuality of Portuguese wines, drawn out by the eclectic blend chosen by the maker and not just that I shouldn't have tasted it after eating a chicken donner with garlic mayonnaise.

Buy again? Yes. Probably to share as part of my selection for later this year, but definitely for my own pleasure. It is a bargain.

Kent

Six years ago, in Week L (2015), I chose Chapel Down Lamberhurst Estate,Bacchus Reserve 2014 as my wine of the week. At the end of that post I noted that if Santa Claus had been reading it he might have been interested in the vine lease scheme that Chapel Down offer. He wasn't, at that point. Fast forward to February 2020 when the next generation of my generous family chose to celebrate my 60th birthday with a gift of a vine lease. Very generous and very much appreciated.

Eighteen months later six bottles of wine, made from the juice pressed from my very own grapes, were delivered to my front door and so this week we have:

Week K (2021) Chapel Down Tenterden Estate Bacchus 2020. 

As the image on the right is not one of the actual bottles delivered it doesn't carry the strapline 'Bailey: Matured for 60 years', which is proudly emblazoned on my bottles.

I have opened the first of the six and was very impressed. Bright citrus fruits, especially grapefruit in my opinion, with quite some intensity. Good length and a mouthwatering finish. 

I noted when reviewing the Lamberhurst Estate wine that it was a good competitor for New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc and Tenterden follows suit. From my six year old memory (that is, my memory from six years ago not an admission that I drank wine as a primary school pupil) there is less of the elderflower and other floral components in this one but it is still a very good summer wine.

Intended to be enjoyed whilst it has youth on its side I am not concerned that I will have consumed the remaining five bottles before their contents reach their peak. I hope to have at least one left to share with the family next time we all manage to congregate.

The original plan behind the gift was that I would visit my vines as they grew and could chart their progress until the early autumn when I would participate in the harvest. The gift was given over a nice lunch at the vineyard exactly one month before the wretched pandemic put the UK under house arrest and so the vines had to cope without my interference. My loss, as they have clearly managed to do that very nicely indeed.

I didn't give an indication of price above, as it seemed inappropriate given the fact my bottle came as a part of that generous present, however, as we reach the bottom of the page I can say that if you were to buy six bottles directly from the producer they would charge you £70 plus delivery, which is very fair.

Buy again? Most likely (just the wine!).

Jam Shed

I stopped commuting into 'The Great Wen' (William Cobbett c1820) nearly three years ago and don't miss it, generally. There are, however, a few disadvantages of not visiting on a regular basis one of the world's best capital cities, such as losing contact with some of the few old colleagues who also genuinely qualified as friends, and perhaps more relevant to this context, the greatly reduced opportunity to browse the shelves of a wide range of smaller, dedicated wine merchants. 

Thus it is once again to Tesco that I have turned to select:

Week J (2021) Jam Shed Malbec 2020. Tesco £7. 

I have nothing against supermarkets, although I do prefer to do my shopping in the excellent Wigginton Community Shop, it's just that the range of wines available tends to be somewhat predictable and for my purposes, being continued exploration, they can be somewhat limiting. The majority of wine sales in UK are made by supermarkets and that makes sense as it is where most people buy their groceries, but I suggest that it serves to reinforce buying habits and price expectations. If you see a bottle of wine made from a recognisable grape variety, described on the label as '...rich opulent plum and blackberry flavours, rounded off with a hint of cocoa and vanilla.' that is on sale (undiscounted) for £7, why wouldn't you? (see later)

Call me old fashioned, but there is something very pleasing about entering a specialist wine merchant's shop and strolling past the racks of bottles ranging from those available in supermarkets to those I could never justify the expense of buying, as I had the pleasure to do last week in the exceptional Topsham Wines.  I enjoy having to think what the information on the label means not, I hope, in a wine snobby way, but in a way that encourages engagement with the product in some slightly deeper way than being attracted by a well-presented logo. Please don't tell me this has anything to do with 'mindfulness' or any such over-promoted guff.

The biggest and most convenient alternative to supermarkets is of course the internet. Either through direct sales, wine clubs or larger merchants. I am a member of the Wine Society and have great respect for them, but buying on-line seems a bit cold somehow. It also makes the volume of my purchases much more obvious when boxes are delivered to the front door, rather than being brought out of the boot of the car under the cover of night. The One has never even raised an eyebrow, so it must be some deep-rooted guilt connected to my own self-loathing, but enough of that. I have visited the Society's showroom in Stevenage and enjoyed that and also once went to the sadly defunct shop they had in Montreuil until 2016, on a particularly wet weekend, but that takes a bit of effort. So supermarkets are likely to remain my most frequently used sources. Ho Hum.

What of this week's wine? I do like to try less expensive (under £10?) wines from time-to-time just in case there is bargain hiding in plain sight. This isn't one. It is worth the £7 I paid for it, but only just. There is nothing wrong with it. It is very fruity, in that it tastes like undiluted Ribena, is at least off-dry if not sweeter, has little discernable acidity or alcohol, despite it being 13% abv, but some tannin that is revealed if you chew the wine before swallowing. Some people will enjoy this and consider it to hit the spot, but for me the sweetness and concentrated mouthfeel are too much.

On the plus side it claims on the label to be 100% carbon neutral. I don't know what the measure for this accreditation would be, but imagine the fact that it was lovingly bottled in Avonmouth must help. Whoops! That sounded a bit snotty. Given that mankind will almost certainly be eradicated within the next few generations due to our mismanagement of the global environment, I apologise for that. Not only is there nothing wrong with bulk wine transportation, it alongside alternative packaging, should be encouraged. Trouble is, that line of thought makes me feel I should try only to consume local produce and whilst English wine is improving all the time it would limit my exploration even more than shopping in supermarkets. Oh, hell. Now what to do?

In the meantime: buy again? No.

Inzolia

Whilst discussing the potential for foreign travel as, hopefully, we come towards the end of the current pandemic a friend described how he and his wife had booked a trip to Sicily. I responded with genuine interest, enthusiasm and a little envy. It was when he said 'and then we will take the helicopter back to Plymouth' that I realised either he was a man of much greater means than I had previously understood or that he wasn't going to Sicily. 

Recently we took a virtual trip to Sicily, in Week F (2021), and it is a pleasure to return there. In that week I mentioned Marsala, so it feels fitting that here we have:

Week I (2021) Martinez Marsala Superiore Riserva Dolce. 37.5cl M&S £5.95

As with the wine from our recent trip this week's wine is made from a blend of grapes. The grapes in question are a majority of Grillo, which on its own makes fresh appley-lemon wines with a nutty tang, and Inzolia (aka at least 8 other names) which also has a nutty personality. Given that, why the blend? I dunno, maybe it's cheaper :-).

Probably due to the passage of time there is a pattern emerging in these most recent pages as wines, or grapes, tasted before reappear in a different guise. Inzolia previously appeared in Week I (2015) as a dry wine and I referred to its role in Marsala and so now I'll return the favour as although Marsala can be dry this one certainly is not. It is similar to a sweet Port, being tawny in colour and having a figgy-raisin flavour with some spiced caramel and hazelnut tones, most prominent in the finish. It is a touch sweeter than I would choose, but it's great with sharp cheeses.

There are clues on the label as to the style in the bottle. To be called Superiore Riserva it must have aged for a minimum of four years, and Dolce is (obviously) Sweet. Other classifications can be applied to wines aged much longer, but you can look those up for yourself.

In common with Madeira it has in its history the discovery that the wine improved during long sea journeys. In the case of Madeira this lead to a process where the wine ages in hot warehouses, known as estufagem. For Marsala the process is similar to the solera system used in the production of Sherry, where proportions of new wines are added to older stocks several times over a few years so that the resultant wine is the product of many vintages. In Marsala this process goes under the name 'perpetuum' which is quite descriptive don't you think?

Buy again? Yup, it keeps forever and is great added to fruit dishes, if it hasn't all been drunk first.

Heritages

 H is for Heritages. This one caught my eye, partly because I like wines from the Rhone Valley in general, and partly because I liked the brand name. I have noticed while perusing the wine walls in my most frequently visited supermarkets that, like other industries, the opportunity to sail close to the wind with trade marks is often grabbed in an attempt to grasp the shopper's attention. I am the evidence that this can work.

Week H (2021) Heritages Chateaneuf-du-Pape, 2019. Tesco £19

Now, I am not accusing anyone of doing anything underhand here and I selected the bottle knowing exactly what was in it and from whence it came. However, although Chateauneuf-du-Pape is a very well known and respected appellation in the Southern Rhone, it is also one of the largest, producing approximately 14 million bottles each year. 

Further upstream in the Northern Rhone lies the appellation of Hermitage which produces some excellent red wines, but in much lower quantities: 730,000 bottles per annum, or thereabouts.

Both appellations have good reputations. With the volume of C-d-P that is produced it isn't all going to be the best, but in my experience (see other entries: Week H (2015), Week L (2015), Week V (2015)....I told you I liked the Rhone) it is one of those names that people seem to trust. Perhaps this leads to the producers needing to compete in other ways, such as using a brand name that might catch the eye of a customer seeking a bargain. A bottle of Hermitage can be expensive. A quick internet search reveals bottles for as little as £40 (i.e. twice the price of this lower end C-d-P) or as much as five times that amount. I didn't look further, but I know this is not the upper limit.

Whether that is what is happening here I can only speculate, but there are other examples from many other regions. Italy seems to produce a lot of wine way down in the south, especially in Puglia, that have names similar to Amarone or Appassimento that have their roots in the north.

There is also a word used in the United States to mean a wine made from a blend of grapes permitted in Bordeaux. That word is Meritage....

Does any of this matter? Possibly, possibly not. However, in the interest of helping consumers understanding what they are buying and, hopefully, making better informed choices, we might consider that C-d-P can be made from 18 grape varieties as long as Grenache predominates, whereas Hermitage can only use a majority of Syrah, blended with minor portions of Marsanne & Roussanne which are both white.

Having chosen my weekly wine in part because of the possibility of typing all this unnecessary guff and using it as an exercise in revision of details once learned and in danger of being forgotten, I should say a bit about the experience of drinking it.

It was deeply-coloured, rich, well-structured, full of black fruits and herbal notes, had ripe tannin and a pleasing finish. I shared it with two friends, one of whom looked at the label and said, 'ooh, Chateauneuf-du-Pape, nice!' (see above) and both of whom then drank it without further comment whilst eating a delicious lunch of chicken with lemon and olives. Another example of a match that would make some rule-based wine enthusiasts wince!

Buy again? Chateauneuf-du-Pape, yes. This particular one, if it is close to hand, yes, but I won't seek it out.

Gruner Veltliner

Gruner Veltliner is, alongside its unrelated Roter version, a grape whose home is in the lovely country of Austria. We tried it once before, in 2015, as an ice wine (wein?) which was very lovely but also very sweet. That one came from Burgenland, in the grape's homeland, whereas this one has travelled all the way from New Zealand and is dry.

Week G (2021) Yealands Reserve Gruner Veltliner, 2020. Waitrose £12.99 

The grapes were grown in the Awatere Valley in the north-east of New Zealand's south island (I'm a bit disappointed I haven't managed to shoehorn the word 'west' into that sentence, so far) which has a sunny disposition during the day, accompanied by cool nights and low annual rainfall. This provides excellent conditions in which this well-travelled grape can develop it's peppery, spicy flavours to good advantage.

There is stone fruit, some tropical notes and a bit of mineral zipidity (doo-dah. That's a neoligism to me, I think) that makes the whole thing nicely balanced between easy to drink and sufficiently unusual to make it interesting.

Along with another G variety, Gewurztraminer, the usual advice is to pair it with Asian food, but my usual response is to recommend drinking it with whatever takes your fancy. I wouldn't expect it to go well with slow-cooked Ox cheeks, but it might. Having typed that I am now tempted to try.

I have only once, to date, visited New Zealand and given the country's current administration's fierce determination not to allow that country to suffer from the Covid-19 pandemic any more than they really have to, I think it is unlikely that I would be welcomed back any time soon. They have recently 'locked-down' (why don't I like that phrase?) in response to a single case of the disease being detected and so even us doubled-jabbed (that's also unappealing) geriatric wine enthusiasts are banned from entry. This is a pity. Partly because I found New Zealand to be beautiful and peaceful, especially as in the south island it is still 1975 and there's no WiFi, mobile phone network or even FM radio for large parts of it, and partly because on my previous trip I only managed one winery visit. This was to Mission, in the north island, the oldest winery in the country. It was excellent and I should like to try more.

Awatere is closer to Blenheim, in the broad and famous Marlborough region from which so many good wines are produced. Sadly, we drove through it without stopping, on the way to catch the ferry to the south-western (hoorah! I new I could do it!) tip of the north island. This is an error to be corrected at some future date. We also didn't stop to take in Don Henley in concert in Wellington, but did catch him in Hyde Park where he was the main support act (!!!) to Carole King. Also excellent.

Anyway, I digress. Buy again? Most likely.

Frappato

Ah! Italia!  Had it not been for the wretched pandemic we would now be but a month or so away from packing our bags to attend a wedding in the hills to the north of Rome. Wouldn't that have been great.. There is a slim chance it still may be possible, provided the Italian government change the rules at the beginning of September. If they don't we will have to continue to use exploration of the world through wine as a proxy for a more personal experience. With that in mind:

Week F (2021) Corte Ferro Frappato Nerello Mascalese, 2019. Majestic £8.99 

Let us imagine ourselves on the sun-kissed shores of Sicily, on the western coast close to Marsala, sipping a red wine made from local grapes (Shirley Valentine has just popped into my head, but I think she went to Mykonos) and enjoying the evening sun, setting over the Mediterranean Sea. Nice, innit?

The wine would be a blend of two varieties grown on the island and in very few other places. The growers would be from a family that established the vineyards in 1904 and who, almost exactly a century later, had teamed up with a winemaking family from Brescia to build a winery and take control of the end-to-end production. 

What we have here is both a blend of grapes and a blend of families, who turn the juice from those grapes into the wine of the week. The families are, firstly, the local growers, named Caruso and, secondly, the Minini family from Brescia in Lombardy. They bring viticulture and vinification together.

The grapes are Frappato, which brings a lightness, acidity, and berry fruit flavours, and Nerello Mascalese, providing the structure and body. Both of these have been hand-picked, destemmed and fermented in stainless steel tanks for two to three weeks, before undergoing malolactic fermentation in the same. The wine is then aged in a mix of 225 litre barriques (30%) for four months and stainless steel for eight months. After all of that it has a labelled abv of 13.5%.

Back in the real world the wine was tasted not on a balmy Sicilian evening to accompany a mixed plate of local antipasti, but in front of the television with little more than a bowl of cashews, whilst watching a rerun of what the BBC, or at least many of their presenters, seems to believe was called the Erlympics, where 'Team GB' done really well. For all of that *sigh* both the sport and the wine that accompanied it were very enjoyable and my any measure, a great success. Medium body, fruit and acidity nicely balanced, alcohol well integrated, good subtle tannin, nice length.

Buy it again?  Yes.

Elemental

Following on from last week's wine, this week is another from Majestic. Not this time one of their own label wines but one selected for a few reasons.

Week E (2021) Elemental Organic Viognier, 2020. Majestic £9.99

My reasons for selecting this, apart from the obvious and necessary 'white wine beginning with 'E' (and there are two of those)', were that, as I have said before, I like Viognier and also that I like producer: Emiliana.

Emiliana were voted Winery of the Year in 2016, by Wines of Chile, and they have an impressive track record from their inception in 1998 for increasingly concentrating on the production of organic and biodynamic wines whilst picking up certifications and awards for environmental and ethical practices.

I first encountered Emiliana at the London International Wine Festival in around 2010 where I listened to an interesting and engaging presentation about their philosophy whilst, happily, sampling some of their output. I particularly remember enjoying the Coyam red, a blend of Syrah, Carmenere, Cabernet Sauvignon, Mourvedre, Petit Verdot, Carignan, Malbec, Garnacha & Tempranillo!

This wine is 100% Viognier. As previously noted elsewhere in these pages, Viognier originates from the Northern Rhone, where it is used in top end wines like Chateau Grillet and as part of the blend in Cote Rotie, and I have mentioned more than once that I like Yalumba's organic Viognier which is made in South Australia. So how does this Chilean wine compare? In short: very well.

Chile produces a lot of great wine and much of it at keen prices, at least in the UK when compared to some 'old world' offerings. This is a good example of one such wine. It is beautifully aromatic and has rich flavours of stone fruits, like peach and apricot, with some floral tones (I think I am supposed to say honeysuckle at this point) and a honey finish.

I like this a lot. I opened it to accompany a slow roast pork Sunday lunch and it did that very nicely. Most labels on bottles of Viognier recommend drinking it with Thai food and I wouldn't object to that either.

Buy again? Yes, without hesitation.

Definition Claret

In my exploration of wine I try to avoid the obvious. I'm not always successful. I didn't try too hard this week and found myself in the local branch of Majestic for what is quite an unusual reason. The One had been to see a friend on a recent warm summer's evening and came home saying she had just enjoyed a really delicious rose and could we go and buy some. It's not often I get such a direct instruction to go wine shopping, so off we popped.

Whilst there I picked up a few bottles, including:

Week D (2021) Definition Claret, 2017. Majestic £9.99

This is a wine from Majestic's own label brand. They started selling Definition wines a few years ago and have slowly increased the styles available. I have tried a few of them and, generally, found them to be at least good value for money.

I had not had the Claret before and thought it worth a go. As you doubtless know, Claret is a traditional British name for the red wines of Bordeaux. You will also know that those wines, which are produced in huge quantities annually, can be made from a number of grape varieties and usually in a blend. The region is divided into a number of sub-regions and each, depending on the soil and topography, may be more of less suited to any of the permitted grapes.

The Gironde estuary runs through the Bordeaux region and, in broad brush terms, the wines from the left bank of the estuary tend to have Cabernet Sauvignon as the principle variety and those from the right bank tend to have Merlot taking the lead.

This one is an example of the exception that proves the rule. It is made in the Medoc, on the left bank, but contains a majority of juice from Cabernet Franc supported by Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon. 

Cabernet Franc is a lighter, more floral variety than either of its blending partners and can be found more frequently in the wines of the Loire valley where it is given greater respect. In a Claret it is often seen as a minor component, useful because it ripens more easily and can moderate the tanins of the more robust Cab Sav.

It is possibly because of the blend in this bottle that I was surprised and, in truth, a little disappointed when I first tasted it. I had not read any details before trying it and, as it was described as a Claret from Medoc, I had assumed it would be more of a meaty drink.  I found it rather more acidic than I had expected and didn't find it to be particularly appealing. I finished the bottle over three sittings and by the last sensed that a day or two with the cork out had softened the acidity, but it could have been me that had softened.

If I was to choose a Cabernet Franc in future then I would look to the Loire as my source. Perhaps there it will be shown to better effect.

Pub quiz fact: Cabernet Sauvignon was created by crossing Cabernet Franc with Sauvignon Blanc.

Buy again? No.

Clendenen

I was going to title this post 'Chardonnay' but it occurred to me that as the maker of this week's wine died just two months ago it would be more appropriate to honour him in this very small way. I did not know him, never met him and claim no special knowledge other than he was the classic Californian winemaking pioneer.

Week C (2021) Au Bon Climat Wild Boy Chardonnay. Various sources ~£25. 

Most weeks I comment on a wine that I have bought in a supermarket, wine shop or on-line merchant. Very occasionally I have commented on a wine tasted in a restaurant and this is one of those. 

We had been advised that the tasting menu we were about to eat would be mostly fish and vegetarian dishes and that if we were not going to spend quite a bit of cash on the suggested pairings, a white would be preferable. The restaurant had a wine list that was big enough and broad enough to cover every taste and pocket. The meal was expensive enough to deserve a decent wine, but it is always a challenge to get the balance right. The list priced this wine at £95 which is way above the amount I would pay in retail. But that's how the world works. 

I had never tried it before, but did recognise the name Au Bon Climat on the list, so I asked the sommelier to describe it. He did so in glowing terms (they always do if they curate the list!) and so the deal was done.

First thing to note was that Au Bon Climat does not appear on the label as it had done on the list, which I have to admit worried me, briefly. But it wasn't the kind of place that would get things like that wrong, even unintentionally, so I nodded, sniffed it and accepted it.

It was quite well-oaked, had plenty of clean, stone and tropical fruit flavours and a nicely balanced acidity. It did indeed go well with the three appetisers and the first six courses of the main meal, but by the time we were approaching the lamb it had been drunk dry and a couple of glasses of a South African left-bank blend were required to keep us on track.

Having returned home I have red more about Jim Clendenen and his wines. It makes interesting reading as he was, with his winemaking business partner, one of those 'we will have to do it all ourselves until we can afford to pay for help' type of pioneers who clearly believed he could make a success of things.

The reason Au Bon Climat, the name of his winery, doesn't appear on the bottle is that Wild Boy is one of his more experimental, small batch wines and they had to stand on their own merits.

Buy again? Probably not. But only because it is now attached in memory to a great evening.

Brouilly

When I started this exercise in continued investigation into the wines of the world it was because I knew that the formal education I had had was by no means exhaustive. It had provided me with a solid body of knowledge and an appreciation of some of the complexities of the subject but, as many people find with a great range of topics, I felt that the more I had learned the more I had understood how little I knew and how much more there was to be discovered. Hence this blog.

I have commented on prejudice a few times and this week's wine could have become a victim of this:

Week B (2021) Domaine Tavian, Brouilly, 2020. Waitrose £12.99. 

Over two evenings recently The One and I dined with some good friends. Of the four of us only two have any real taste for wine. This is, of course, perplexing but each to their own. There were two bottles sitting on the sideboard: this Brouilly and a South African Cabernet Sauvignon. We had already eaten in a local pub and so the wine was intended to accompany another game of cards. 'Which do you fancy?', I asked. 'The Cab Sav, or the Beaujolais?'  

I probably should not have said 'Beaujolais' as, I think, it set a negative expectation. I lost at cards over the South African wine.

The following evening we cooked a couple of juicy sirloin steaks on the bbq and found we had just the one bottle left. Conventual wine wisdom says that a sirloin steak needs a full-bodied wine with good tannins that will help to break down the proteins in the meat, or some such thing. Had we considered that on the previous evening, and had we correctly predicted we'd be buying steaks the following day, we may have drunk the Brouilly with the cards and saved the Cabernet Sauvignon for the steak. I'm glad we didn't. 

It's true that even the producer (or marketeer) of this wine recommends drinking it with 'Chinese dishes, white meats (especially chicken) and cheese', but we found this very enjoyable as a pair with the cow. It was smooth and medium-bodied, but not thin. It weighs in at 13% abv and has some nice red fruit flavours. One of the non-wine drinkers, who is coincidentally a very keen and skilled gardener, smelled it an immediately exclaimed 'cherries!'. Tannin does not really feature, although not entirely absent. Very easy to drink and in my opinion a good match for anything , especially in the summer.

A day or so later I asked my friend which wine he had preferred. Yup, this one.

Buy again? Yes.

p.s. if you had forgotten, I had said more about the production of Beaujolais seven years ago. You can refresh your memory here.

Avesso

Welcome to lap six of my vinous alphabet. I think it's lap six, there have been a few breaks. Had I had an unbroken run I think this would be lap thirteen, but life got in the way. It's so much better not having to waste time as a wage slave, but the fritterable income did have its uses. 

This has been a week of great sporting achievement in the UK. England, specifically. The footballers beat the Germans for the first time in 55 years, various people briefly did well at Wimbledon and yours truly finished near the bottom of a ~100 strong field in my golf club's annual championship.

Time for some light relief:

Week A (2021) Encostas de Caiz, Avesso Vihno Verde 2020. £7.49 Lidl

It says more about me than I care to acknowledge that finding a white wine made from a grape whose name begins with A and which I haven't mentioned before is, by me, considered a success. Put into context against my golfing 'prowess' I think you can see it is the little victories in life that keep me going.

Whatever. Avesso has not featured in these pages before and I am pleased to address that. It is a grape from the north of Portugal, where it can be used to produce Vinho Verde, that light style of wine that often has a slight 'spritz' or petillance, as I believe the French like to call it.

I opened this one to accompany some baked gammon in a honey glaze, along with some perfectly cooked plant bits. First impressions are that it is clean, appealing, very easy to drink and good value for the not much money I had to part with to enjoy it.

Second impression is that the third glass is slipping down very nicely, thank you, and that I might stop typing this shortly, in order to have a nap.

It is not a big, serious, pompous wine that demands to have proper wine people eulogise over it, but it is very enjoyable. Lots of appley flavour, not bland, not sharp, just nice to drink. A bit moreish and, if nursey isn't watching too closely, another refill may be called for. It is more full-bodied than I expected and certainly not without substance. There is a hint of spritz, but nothing really worthy of the name.

I hope to be taking a golfing trip to Portugal later this year, pandemic permitting, a suspect that might prove to be an opportunity for 'tasting' more of that country's output, which is usually very good value, such as this week's wine.

Buy again? Yes, I think so. I may become a fan. 

Zinfandel

Two weeks ago I mentioned that my daughter recently told me that I had begun to repeat stories within a short space of time. Sorry to repeat that so soon. On the theme of repetition, I try to avoid choosing wines each week that I have chosen before and, therefore, I was reluctant to pick a Zinfandel for Week Z. I haven't had this Zinfandel before, but I have had a couple of them previously, more if you count the Primitivos which I have repeatedly explained are the same grape. I think my daughter has a point. As stories are the focus for the week we have:

Week Z (2021) 1000 Stories Zinfandel, 2018. £15 Tesco

On opening this bottle my first impression was that the colour was slightly less dense than I had expected, being mostly ruby with a few garnet hints. It smelled of rich fruits, somewhere between blackberry and black cherry and there was something herbal there, too.

On tasting it, I was again surprised that it wasn't as heavy or full as I expected, but more easily drinkable with a medium body. The alcohol, labeled at 14.5%, was not obvious and the tannins came out most in the finish when they showed their grip.

The producer says that old bourbon barrels are used for the maturation as when he began making wine French oak was had to come by, probably because it is made in California. He has stuck to this approach and credits those barrels with giving the wine some caramel, vanilla and herbal flavours. I thought I detected some tobacco, herbs (thyme?) and licorice on first tasting and, as I still have half a bottle waiting for tonight's Wimbledon / Euro 2020 editions, I will be interested to see what I think on the second lap.

I doubt you will be.

On that note, as I have said before (see the theme?), I doubt you are even reading this, however, recently I have been mildly surprised and a little bemused by the addition of readers' comments against a post I wrote in November 2015 on Merlot.  There are six of them, five of which have appeared in the last month, nearly six years after publication. I suspect they are either written by bots, or by otherwise unemployed students attempting to direct traffic to other blogs and websites (all the comments have links), or by aspirant influencers. Readership, according to Blogger stats, also appears to come from unexpected places: Russia, Indonesia, Hong Kong, for example. Perhaps someone thinks I could help to rig an election? Whatever the reason, you are welcome.

Buy again? Probably.

Yenda

Yenda is a town in The Riverina, a large irrigated agricultural area in New South Wales close to the confluence of the Murray and Murrmbidgee rivers, of only 1,503 people (as of the census in 2011). It is notable as the location of the headquarters of Australia's largest family-owned wine company which produces an almost unimaginable quantity of wine, sold under a number of well-known brands; Casella Family Brands.

Yellow Tail claims to be the 'most loved brand in the world' for the third year in a a row and has been producing wine since 2001. By 2013 they had bottled 1 billion bottles, using the bottling plant installed in 2006 that is capable of filling 36,000 bottles per hour! Yellow Tail is available in over 50 countries and represents the biggest wine export from Australia.

Week Y (2021) Yellow Tail Pinot Grigio 2020. £7 Tesco 

We know from the statistics above that this is a wine deliberately aimed at the mass market. It is cheap. I paid £7, but had I had a Tesco Clubcard I could have saved another £1. No loyalty card required to pay the same at Asda.

But is it any good?

I have typed before that I try to keep an open mind and I admit to having been a bit sniffy about Yellow Tail in the past. So this week I am again testing my prejudices.

One of the attractions of wine, according to many of the people who comment on such things, is that the consumer somehow enjoys the 'sense of place' that you get from drinking a good wine. Some would even say that it is this sense of place that makes a wine good. 

I have never been entirely comfortable that I know what a sense of place could possibly taste like. I have come to understand it as an abstract notion meaning the wine / beer / cheese / pork pie in question has something about it that similar products from elsewhere don't have. With beer, cheese and pork pies, all of which I enjoy very much, it is a much simpler decision to make; I like / I don't like this particular pie, piece of cheese, pint of beer. But with wine, because of the potentially extended lifespan of the product throughout which the characteristics of the product may change, it becomes a little trickier. A whole world of analysis and subsequent opinion has grown up across the world of wine. Magazines, books, websites, TV shows and even a plethora of partly informed blogs such as this one lend support to the notion that simply opening and drinking a bottle of wine the consumer isn't putting in enough effort to decide on its merits. S/he should be looking for more.

In this instance it could be argued that the wine doesn't have a sense of place. There are no faults in the wine. It is easy to drink, tastes clean and fruity, is lively and acidic without being tart or sharp, has an obvious sweetness and is inexpensive. It is rather one-dimensional, having no complexity, it is quite light and doesn't leave a lasting impression. If you put in the analytical effort to discover its hidden depths you will most likely be disappointed, as there aren't any.

But. Wait a minute. What is the place this wine comes from like? It is a vast, irrigated region producing very high volumes of acceptable quality foods a drinks. It has been made in a factory-style winery capable of producing more wine than it is feasible to imagine and that, in my opinion, is exactly what it tastes of.

My conclusion is this. I must be honest in my assessment and consider the merits of every wine I try in the context of what it claims to be. There is no point at all in declaring this wine is not as good as the Chablis I recently drank, costing £19.99 a bottle, because it isn't trying to convince me that it is! The Yellow Tail marketing says it is '...a wine brand that is easy to drink and delivers consistent quality, taste and value' and I think it does that. I don't particularly like it, but if I buy it again I am sure I will know what to expect. 

Any way you choose to look at it Casella Family Brands is a success story. If you don't like Yellow Tail, try Peter Lehmann from the Barossa Valley, Morris of Rutherglen or Bailey's of Glenrowan in Victoria as they, and others, are all now in the family. Not bad for a a Sicilian couple who emigrated to Australia in 1957, bought a farm in 1965 and started making wine in 1969. That's a little over 50 years to become Australia's largest wine exporter, so they must be doing something right.

X - Too Hard

I did look but, as I have already had a Xinomavro and couldn't think of another X, this week I am indulging a little nostalgia as I stumbled across a tenuous souvenir of our honeymoon.

We didn't, as far as I can recall, have this week's wine whilst we were there but we did visit the vinery where it was made. So:

Week X (2021) Spier Cabernet Sauvignon. Waitrose £8.99 

We recently greatly enjoyed a visit from our first grandchild who was, as you might expect, accompanied by his mother. During her visit she commented that I had started to do what grandparents do and tell the same story more than once within a short space of time. I am aware that I have mentioned previously that our honeymoon took us to South Africa although I can't remember when I did that. Another sign of impending age-related decline, I suppose.

It matters not. You aren't reading this anyway. 

Our visit to Spier came towards the end of our trip, on our way back to Cape Town and the long flight home. It was one of the best days of a holiday that included many such best days, this one memorable for the food, the entertainment and particularly the time spent in the cheetah sanctuary. This was all 14 years ago and I have read that the sanctuary has moved to a farm some twenty miles away. I don't know why, although I am glad that the work we saw going on to help this threatened species continues. 

With or without the big cats I am sure that the Spier estate would still be worth a visit. They have been making wine for over 300 years and this Cabernet Sauvignon is from their 'Signature' range.

To start at the end, I really enjoyed drinking this. It had body, structure and flavour in a nice balance and delivered black fruits with a bit of spice. There was some complexity and enough acid to match the noticeable tannin.

The vines from which the fruit was picked are between 9 and 20 years old and grown on the farm which is about 40 miles from the Atlantic coast, from where the colder air moderates the hot inland temperatures giving ideal ripening conditions. Around 20% of the wine has gone through malolactic fermentation in 'neutral' French oak and the other 80% treated in stainless steel with French oak staves. I imagine this is partly cost-driven and partly to achieve a balance of freshness and oak-influenced flavour. I may be wrong about that, but the important point is that I like the result.

Buy again? Yes.

As time progresses I may mention Spier again. Just to amuse my daughter, who will never read this.

O'Leary Walker

In 2010 I took my first exam in wines and spirits that had a tasting element. I had read the text books, several times, and made details notes. It was a big step up from level two to level three, but I had put in the work. The thing that bothered me was the tasting exam. Did I have enough experience to correctly describe the sample that would be presented to me? The exam didn't require the candidate to identify the wine by name, but to describe it accurately according to the standard approach to tasting. I think I was lucky. It could have been anything from the syllabus but the examiner had, I think, been kind. One taste, a deep sense of relief; 'Clare Valley Riesling!' Woohoo! It had a big hit of lime flavour and the unmistakable background of Riesling. If you want a wine that shouts its identity then you could scarcely do better than a Riesling from the Clare Valley in South Australia. So this week we have:

Week W (2021) O'Leary Walker Polish Hill River Riesling, 2019. £12.99 Waitrose.

This is pretty much exactly as expected, although my two tasting companions had very differing views. One didn't like it at all, having previously declared a dislike for Riesling, and the other described it as 'delicious' but disagreed with my assertion that the dominant flavour was of lime.

Being a gentleman I didn't argue the point, but my own opinion was that it most definitely tasted strongly of that particular citrus fruit. In fact, to be critical, I don't think it tasted of much else and that is a little disappointing. Unlike the first of my co-tasters, who was very pleased with her glass of Pinot Grigio (see Week I (2021)), I do like Riesling and had hoped for a little more of the defining flavours from the grape than appeared in the glass. On the nose, as wine bores and horsey people often say but for different reasons, there were signs of Riesling but they were not detectable to my probably tired and ageing palate.

Having said that, it wasn't bland and had bags of flavour. It's just the bags were all full of lime. It makes a welcome change from all of those white wines that can best be described as tasting like white wine, but it isn't something I will buy very often as I quite like a slightly more restrained and less acidic fruit in my salad.

Vasse Felix

In 1801 the good ship 'Naturaliste' (French, naturellement) which was on a voyage to map the coast of New Holland ran into a spot of inclement weather, during which her assistant helmsman, Thomas Timothee Vasse, was washed overboard and assumed lost. Stories emerged to say that he had survived and had been washed ashore in what we now know as Western Australia. There are no definitive answers, but his name lives on in the brand of one of the first vineyards and wineries established in Margaret River, in the coastal region a couple of hours south of Perth.

So, this week V is for Vasse and we have:

Week V (2021) Vasse Felix Classic Shiraz, 2019. £12 Tesco.

The winery was established by Dr Tom Cullity, a cardiologist, and that gives me reassurance that wine is good for the heart. There seem to be several physicians who have made the transition from fixing bodies to nurturing souls by making wine and this has to be a good sign.

Not only did the good doctor have the foresight to become a pioneer of Western Australian wine, but he also demonstrated that he must have had something of a sunny disposition. Choosing not to call his winery "Cullity" or some equally egotistically inspired name, he indulged his interest in history by choosing to honour our man Thomas, above, and to append an optimistic second name of Felix meaning, as it does, lucky or happy and so I assume Dr Tom liked to think Sailor Tom did indeed survive.

I have mentioned in these pages that I like Vasse Felix wines, especially the Cabernet Sauvignon from their 'Filius' range.  That range sits below both 'Icon' and 'Premier', both of which are sold at over or above my usual price bracket, but delivers good value.

This week's wine is from the 'Classic' range which is the lowest tier of their output, so it will be interesting to taste the difference (no reference to Sainsbury intended). It will also be the first time, that I can recall, that I will have tasted their Shiraz, as the Cabernet Sauvignon is an known quantity and, therefore, my usual preference.

First impressions are of its colour, which is an attractive ruby with touches of purple. This is followed by the first sip which is very smooth, underpinned with ripe tannin and led by some light blackberry & plum flavours. Lingering finish and very moreish.

It is mostly Shiraz, but also contains 2% Malbec. I have enjoyed a couple of Malbecs recently and they are generally very approachable and enjoyable, but also quite fruit-forward and tending ever so slightly towards being a bit jammy. I doubt that my senses are keen enough to detect the presence of anything that is just 2% of the whole, but I admire the skill of a winemaker who can decide that such a small contribution to a blend will make the difference s/he is want to achieve. I can't say whether it does or not, but the end product is good enough to convince me that it isn't done only for marketing reasons.

I have never been sure what the logo at the top of the Vasse Felix label represented. It turns out that it is a Peregrine falcon. In the early days of the winery, established in 1967 and producing their first vintage in 1971, there was a struggle to protect the grapes from, amongst other things, bird damage. A Peregrine falcon was brought in to deal with the birds but, according to the producer's website, on first release promptly flew off into local woodlands never to be seen again. It seems rather generous of the winery to honour the bird in this way and I rather like that.

Oh, buy again? Definitely.

Ugni Blanc

Seven years ago when faced with the task of finding a white wine made from a grape beginning with 'U', I chose a Cotes de Gascogne from Waitrose on the basis that it contained Ugni Blanc as the minor blending partner with Colombard. My memory, usually reliable, partially failed me when I faced the same challenge this week as I have made a similar selection. Similar in the sense that Ugni Blanc is again a minor blending partner but, in this case, its senior partner is Sauvignon Blanc.

Having spent a little more than my average last week this one is definitely from the bottom shelf.

Week U (2021) Louis de Camponac Sauvignon Blanc 2020. £6 Tesco. 

Ugni Blanc has already appeared in these notes twice this year, once each in March and April and on both occasions it was again the minor partner in the blend. However, both of those wines (Weeks M & O) were Italian, so Ugni Blanc appeared under one of its many aliases, Trebbiano. I noted back in 2016 that the grape is used in the production of Cognac and that requires the distillation of an alcoholic liquid to produce a simple, bland spirit that will pick up flavour during its maturation in oak casks. As such the grape doesn't need to deliver a big flavoursome punch and, even if it did, as the minor partner to Sauvignon Blanc it would probably be overpowered anyway. 

In this bottle we have an easy drinking, unremarkable yet pleasant white wine that as you may expect tastes very mush like a Sauvignon Blanc. It isn't as aggressively acidic as some, but I can't say whether or not that is the effect of the Ugni Blanc. It could simply be that it has been made from high-cropping Sauvignon Blanc which doesn't have the intensity of wines from more selective producers. It is very cheap so I think we have got exactly what we could have expected to get for the price.

It is the kind of wine that would be drunk happily on a sunny afternoon, up to and probably beyond the point where its consumers would have achieved the same status.

Incidentally, after the coldest and wettest May for many years we are told that by next weekend everything will have changed and then June will roar in like a lion. This is what March can do, according to folklore, before it goes out like a lamb. I hope that June isn't aware of this and gives us plenty of days when we will wish to reach for a chilled glass or two. For me it won't be a chilled glass of this wine for the same reason I am sure I have given on previous occasions, simply that there are too many other similar wines on offer and if I am going to get through them all....oh, hang on a minute, that's just stupid. I'll have whatever is on offer.

Tinpot Hut

I do like a Pinot Noir. I think I have chosen one six or seven times amongst the 157 previous weekly wines in these pages, and that seems quite restrained, given my preferences. They have come from a variety of places, including France, Australia, New Zealand and California, but have not to date included Chile and that surprises me as one of my favourites is Errazuriz Coastal Series, or at least it was when I knew where to get it. This one is, I believe, the fourth from New Zealand and I chose it not only because the branding begins with the correct letter, but also because of the retailer from whom I bought it.

Week T (2021) Tinpot Hut Pinot Noir 2017. Wigginton Community Shop £16.50

I am proud to have been a volunteer at the community shop since it opened in December 2018 on the day after I gave up on the idea of earning a living. It is a cheerful little place with a good selection of fresh foods, convenience goods, gifts and, most pleasingly, wine. And cheese, of course.

The wines range from about £8 a bottle (if you ignore the 'wine based drinks' with cartoon branding at which I wince when putting them through the till) up to £20 for the Chablis and more again for the Champagne. There's even some PX Sherry, brought in for the Christmas crowd and maturing nicely for next year when we hope someone will be wise enough to buy it and pour it over their ice cream. So this one is mid-to-upper in the shop's range.

In terms of global Pinot Noir prices it is quite near the bottom, but still about twice as much as the elusive Errazuriz used to be. Top end Burgundies cost obscene amounts of cash and, if I hadn't attended in ~2010 an event hosted by Berry Bros & Rudd entitled 'a walk through Gevrey-Chambertin', I wouldn't believe there could be any possibility of their prices being justified. In fact, I still can't but I have tasted the difference between bottles priced at £35 and those at £350 and have to admit there is a difference. Is it a difference worthy of a ten-fold hike in price? That's impossible to answer even for those who can afford it, but for me, no. Incidentally, at £350 a bottle we would still be a long way behind the £24,000 BBR would ask for a bottle of the 2015 DRC Grand Cru. For a drink? Really? Maybe if you are a premier league footballer and you fancy a swift one after trousering £60,000 for a week's work (that's the average) it might appeal, but championship players might think that a bit steep. I believe the highest paid premier chap is currently getting £600,000 a week so maybe he could get a case and share it out?

Sorry, I seem to have gone off on one for bit. My point is, I am never going to taste those wines and despite what you might think from the above, I couldn't care less. For the majority of the world's wine drinkers those bottles are a total irrelevance. So, what have we got here and is it worth it's paltry price?

It is a medium bodied, fragrant wine with flavours of red cherry and subtle spice, and silky tannins that are felt mostly in the finish. It is smooth and gently complex with what some wine typists who are even more pretentious than moi may describe as an ethereal quality. I don't know exactly what that means, but it is something along the lines of 'it is not just a fruity drink, but suggests it has something that is difficult to define'.

I like it. But then I like Pinot Noir. Key question: is it worth £16.50 a bottle? Well, yes and no. It isn't ever going to challenge the big names and cheaper wines like the Errazuriz Coastal Series still exist even if I can't find them, but there are plenty of Pinot Noirs in the £40-£60 that aren't that much more interesting than this one.

Will I but it again? Yes, but only from the truly splendid Wigginton Community Shop (with excellent ancillary cafe).

Steen

I have only visited South Africa twice. Once was when The One and I celebrated our marriage with a thouroughly enjoyable honeymoon and once with a rather under-appreciated professional trip to begin the process of opening an office in Johannesburg.

It is a big, colourful, beautiful country with a great variety of scenery, culture, food and wildlife, that we experienced only a small proportion even if we did drive 2,000 miles whilst there. On that first trip, a few years before I started a formal interest in wine, we visited a single winery. If we return, that number will increase significantly.

Looking for a white S, I remembered that the grape used to make The One's most favoured wine, Vouvray, which is known as Chenin Blanc in the Loire and elsewhere, is widely grown in the rainbow nation but known there as Steen. So:

Week S (2021) First Cape Bush Vine Chenin Blanc 2019. £7.79 Waitrose.

I also wanted to choose a South African wine as a small act of solidarity with a national industry that has suffered badly throughout the pandemic, with alcohol sales having been temporarily banned. I will raise a glass to their speedy recovery to full production and sales.

First Cape is a brand initiated by a group of 38 growers in 2001 and now uses grapes grown in more than 200 farms. The are centred in the Breede Valley in the Western Cape province, to the east of the arguably more well-known areas of Stellenbosch and Paarl.  It is surrounded by mountains on three sides which provide protection from the winds coming off the Atlantic Ocean, and leading to hot dry summers. The valley floor is where the high-cropping grapes used in generic wines and for distilling are grown and, I suspect, is where the grapes whose juice has reached this bottle were grown.

I suspect this because although this is a pleasant wine, with quite prounounced flavours of stone fruits and some tropical fruits, it is a little lacking in acidity and complexity. For the price this is not unreasonable and it is very drinkable. I just leaves me a bit underwhelmed.  It doesn't have the sweetness of a Vouvray but isn't really dry either.

There is peach and apricot, a hint of pineapple and even something lightly peppery, but reminiscent of the diluted juice from canned fruit. There is nothing wrong with it and if it was a sunny day a chilled glass of this would slip down very easily, just not memorably.

It's ok, which is to damn it with feint praise. I could buy it again, but probably won't.

Recanati

This is pleasing. Following my alphabetic wine selection rules has paid off this week. Whilst shopping for some light nibbles to enjoy with friends I was keeping an eye open for a red wine with a significant R. I spotted this:

Week R (2021) Recanati Carignan Petite Sirah, Judean Hills 2019. £10 M&S

This is the first wine I have selected that is made in Israel. Specifically, in the Judean Hills (not the Hills of Judea...apologies for that, but it was a great film) which the bottle tells me is the source of many of Israel's finest wines.

Recanati is a winery founded in 2000 and named after one of its founders, Lenny Recanati, the other being Uri Shaked. If you want to read more about them and their story click here.

This wine doesn't appear on their website and this is often the case for wines sold in M&S, as there is a credit to M&S winemaker Sue Daniels at the bottom of the back label which earlier names Kobi Arviv as the maker in the winery, suggesting this is a custom blend / style only sold through M&S.

Carignan has its origins in South-West France and is known as a robust if rustic grape, and Petite Sirah, also known as Durif after Fraçoise who created it in the late 19th century by crossing Syrah with Peloursin, also hails from France but has become more common in US, Australia and, as in this case, Israel. It's another tannic grape and it seems to blend well with Carignan, based on the evidence of this bottle.

I sipped my way through a glass and a bit whilst cooking a pork fillet stuffed with chestnuts and mincemeat and found it very enjoyable. It made its presence felt quite noticeably and so I saved the rest to have with the meal. The sweetness of the mincemeat provided a welcome counterpoint to the plummy wine and helped balance the ripe tannins in the wine.

Buy again? Why not, as I have plenty of red wine enthusiast friends who would consider this a tenner well spent.

Quai de la Lune

More mostly warm days and chilly nights, with less rain than usual for the month. That's not a reference to the growing season for this week's wine, its just an unnecessary update on what the weather has been like in these parts since we last spoke. It has been pleasant and ideal for spoiling a good walk so, for the golfers among you, you will be pleased to hear that my handicap index is bouncing around all over the place, rather like a well-shanked pitch, but that following my most recent outing I have finally understood how the game works and have cracked it. I may well become the oldest ever rookie winner of the Masters next year. This is, of course a delusion, much like the idea that I will ever buy a low-priced white wine that I could describe without using the word 'apple'.

Week Q (2021) Quai De la Lune Sauvignon Blanc 2019. £9.39 Waitrose.

Did the usual internet research on this one and found very little, either of the wine or the producer. On the back label it says it was bottled by Cie Viticole d'Aquitaine in Carbon-Blanc, which is in the Entre-duex-Mers bit of Bordeaux, but I found no information about them. My assumption is that they are likely to be a Co-op bottling wine made from grapes anywhere in Bordeaux. The wine has the Bordeaux AOC tag, but that doesn't narrow it down at all.

Labeled as Sauvignon Blanc it must be made from grapes at least 85% of which are that variety, but Waitrose's website also lists Semillon as a contributor and that must be the minor partner in the blend. This would be fairly typical of the white wines from Bordeaux.

Enjoyed this one with some friend's and some substantial nibbles, including a loaf of what I like to call 'delicious home-baked bread' (see here) on one of those chilly evenings following a warm day.

The bottle notes say it is good on its own or with the usual list of fish/chicken based foods listed on white wine bottles. I did read on one review that it goes well with Tofu. I would have thought absolutely anything goes well with Tofu, given you can't detect any flavour in the stuff, and quite probably even better without Tofu.

In our case it went well on its own and also with a (whatever I can find in the) fridge meal that turned into a Mediterranean influenced chicken thighs with leftover ratatouille, tomatoes, olives & preserved lemon 'tagine', served with roasted sweet potato.

What was it like? It was like a French sauvignon blanc. Green apples (Doh!), citrus, a bit herbaceous. Easy to drink, refreshing and pleasant.

Would I buy it again? I'll buy a moderately prices sauvignon blanc again and, if this happens to be the nearest then I might as well.

Primitivo

I am mildly surprised to find that this will be only the third red P in my collection and that the last one was seven years ago. I really must do better.

Several years ago The One and I were invited to dinner by some kind friends, just before they relocated to Eastbourne. Another good friend who grew up in the same seaside town often described it as the place that people go to, to die, and then don't. I'm happy to report that in the case of our dinner hosts he has been, to date, quite right. At least about the second clause. In a small world type of way, it turns out that the distaff side of our dining companions is, in fact, my other friend's cousin.  But I digress. I don't remember what meal was served, but I do remember the wine. This is because on tasting it, The One immediately demanded to see the bottle. This is rare as, apart from dessert wines and Vouvray (demi sec), not many wines provoke a truly positive response. That bottle was Pillastro, an award winning Primitivo available through Laithwaites and the many wine clubs who front that supplier, such as the Sunday Times Wine Club. This week we have the same grape, from the same region:

Week P (2021) Castellore Primitivo 2019. Aldi £4.99 

This is not the same wine. That one, still reasonably priced at £10.99 from Laithwaites, is more than twice as expensive and as I drank a couple of them (not together) within the last year I can confirm it remains a good choice.  Rich, fruity and comforting it has enough body and structure to accompany strongly flavoured foods or, with discretion, enjoyed over a game of cards. And there's another tenuous connection. 

Yet another friend (I'm at risk of sounding like I want to give the impression I have many friends; I certainly have more than I deserve, but am grateful for that) has over the last couple of years become a regular partner and opponent at the bridge table. His prior knowledge of the game has been invaluable in helping both The One and me slowly getting to grips with this captivating game which we started learning, without the very necessary coaching, a few more years ago. Our games together usually take place on a Friday and have a 'drinks and nibbles' break built in between rubbers two and three. It was on one such Friday that our friend recommended this week's wine.

I hoped it would turn out to be a bargain alternative to Pillastro, after all word has it that Aldi can be the source of some real bargains, especially either side of the £10-£15 price bracket. I read only this week that Aldi had been awarded 'Wine Supermarket if the Year' by the International Wine and Spirit Competition (IWSC). This is indeed a prestigious achievement, even if I was on more than one occasion an associate judge in that competition! I had such dreams. In practice this is a different style of wine. Pleasant, easily drinkable and enjoyable but not as rich and satisfying. It is fruity, although lighter and less like the Californian Zinfandels that the Pillastro reflects. Zinfandel and Primitivo are the same grape, which also goes by the name of Crljenak Kastelanski in its native Croatia, and it is popular in Puglia, if you will pardon the alliteration.

Will I buy it again? Probably. At £4.99 it is very cheap and better than the price. Simple, enjoyable but not stunning.

Orvieto

The English Spring is demonstrating it's versatility this week with lovely warm sunshine interspersed with enough snow to make my golfing friend who lives in the other side of the big hill doubt that our course would be open. You could have knocked me down with a feather when he told me that he had awoken to nearly two inches of settled snow only ten or so miles from our home, which is a very tenuous introduction to:

Week O (2021) La Piuma Orvieto 2019. Waitrose £7.99

In Italian La Piuma means 'the feather', don't you know? Well you do now. One can learn so much from wine, even if none of it is particularly useful in day-to-day life. 

La Piuma is a brand and Orvieto is not a grape variety but a region that got a passing mention in my weekly wines back in April 2015 (Week G), when we tasted a single variety wine made from Grechetto. I noted then, as you will of course recall, that the variety was used in the wines from Orvieto where it is usually blended with Trebbiano and that is what we have here. Well nearly. This one also has as the third and least prominent blending partner which is Chardonnay.

It is a clean and bright looking wine and the immediate impression is one of melon with a suggestion grapefruit coming through in the finish. Emenently drinkable as an aperitif or with a meal. In our case it was both, the meal being a mushroom risotto with a side salad and a friend who was visiting from her home in the Lake District, because that's allowed now.

It's not a wine to rave about but it is very pleasant and, at the price, a very reasonable purchase.

The region is situated in central Italy with the town itself being in Umbria but the DOC area extending into Lazio. The latter province is, of course, where Romulus and Remus grew up in their vulpine family before going on to found the city of Rome. And that, coincidentally, is where we will be watching as our guest's daughter will marry her fiance in five months time, assuming that travel will be permitted. I hope so, because this is their fourth attempt to set and keep a date since a year ago.

Will we toast their health and happiness with wines from Orvieto? I have no idea but there could be many less enjoyable choices so I'd be happy.

Would I buy it again? Yes, but I won't seek it out as I still have too many other wines to investigate.

Nero di Troia

 Happy Easter!

Not a cloud in the sky today and a great day for socially distanced, small family gatherings. So the two of us gathered and enjoyed a roast leg of lamb that would have sufficed had the rest of the clan been with us. Not a problem; I do love a lamb sandwich. Our family gathering, in the style previously mentioned, is planned for tomorrow when the forecast weather includes the words 'sleet', 'snow' & 'cold'. It will be a Bank Holiday Monday after all, so I'll let you know.

It's a red week, as luck would have it, so the lamb was accompanied by:

Week N (2021) Maree d'Ione, Nero di Troia 2019. £8.79 Waitrose. 

This comes from Puglia, a region very nearly at the bottom of Italy where with The One and the bonus daughter I enjoyed a holiday a few years ago, staying in a Trullo. These are an unique style of building found only in the region and are sometimes described as being 'beehive' houses. We didn't notice any bees, but the bonus did find a small scorpion inside the mosquito nets around her bed one evening. Much hilarity.

This is not an expensive wine but Puglia doesn't have the cachet of, say, Chianti or Brunello and, therefore, there are bargains to be enjoyed. The first small pour from this bottle was used as sacrament in The One's on-line Easter service. I tasted it and decided that as the lamb would not be ready for several hours I would put to good use the decanting funnel that I was given by some generous friends a little over a year ago to celebrate my most recent birthday ending in a zero. One reason for our family gathering tomorrow is that The One will also celebrate the same significant birthday in a few days time, and I mention it here as to leave it unremarked would be rude. I think the decanting paid off.

The acidity I first tasted seemed more restrained and the more subtle, spice and perhaps hinted tobacco flavours seemed to have stepped forward to be recognised.  Auto-suggestion? Possibly. Whether imagined or not, the wine was well received and very much enjoyed.

Puglia is a warm region, with a lot of coastline, and the fruit gets plenty of opportunity to ripen fully. The tannins were not dominant and the 13.5% claimed abv felt about right.

We have had the grape before in January 2014 when it was labelled Uva di Troia on the front label, but referred to as Nero di Troia on the back. Banana, banana (that doesn't really work, but you get the idea). On that occasion it represented only 40% of the blend whereas here it is, as far as I can tell, 100%. Does this make it better or worse? I can't really say as my memory, usually good, is struggling to go back seven years with any real precision. What I can say is that this bottle was £10 cheaper and still enjoyable.

At present it is possible to buy a bottle of Beronia Reserva for £10 and that, as you may know, is a wine that I consider to be a banker. See Week B (2021).  It is probably a consequence of my evolving relationship with wine that leads me to think one of these and one Beronia has to be a better deal. 

Would I buy again? Probably, but I have a lot of other wines needing to be tried.

Mainente

The clocks went back last night and tomorrow we can sit in the garden and have a glass or two with friends. I have a tee time booked and the forecast is good. Is this a false dawn? I do hope not, but while the sun shines hay shall be made.

As it feels like Spring we are in luck that this week demands a white wine that can be chilled and sipped in the garden after a hard day's toil shovelling soil, compost and bark chips from the front of the house to the back. We were not in so much luck to be doing the shovelling, but it did work up a thirst.

Week M (2021) Vigna Cegnelle, Corte Mainente 2018. ~£10

I can't be sure about the cost of this week's wine as it came to me as one sixth of my reward for answering a few questions about my thoughts on old vine wines. (Previously mentioned, and if you know when please feel free to claim your prize in the comments section below.) All six bottles were from Soave, but from different producers. This is the first I have tried and it was carefully selected because the producer's name begins with the appropriate letter.

It doesn't matter how it was selected to anyone other than me, so let's talk about what the contents of the bottle actually taste like. It is a clear, bright, lemon yellow of medium intensity. On the nose there is more than a hint of ripe pear and some floral tones that give it a nice lift.

It is fruity, tasting of stone fruits such as peach and green plums. There is enough acid to make the mouth water, has a pleasing smoothness and some minerality in the finish.

The grape blend is 90% Garganega with the remaining 10% being Trebbiano di Soave. Trebbiano has many clones which are frequently named for the area in which they grow. Soave is near to Verona in the north-east of the country so is some sense is a stable mate of Valpolicella and all its variants most of which have featured in these notes at some point since September 2013.

Would I buy this again? If I knew where to get it and my price estimate is about right, yes. More importantly it makes me look forward to uncorking the other five Soaves that arrived with it and to see what the other producers can do with the same grapes.

It will be Easter next weekend, so expect something to go with a leg of lamb.