Mount Impey

I spoke too soon. The Russians have invaded Ukraine and suddenly the world feels a little less settled. Things like this put unnecessary amateur wine blogs into perspective and I feel slightly foolish as I start to type this nonsense, but not doing so would have as much positive impact on the situation as all the other empty gestures that are about to become plastered all over social media, so with apologies to those whose lives are about to become much worse:

Week I (2022) Mount Impey Sauvignon Blanc 2020. Tesco £12.

It's another New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc. We had one about a month ago and that was good, so what is different about this one? 

I essence, it is quite similar to Week E (2022) but less intense. Not less enjoyable, which I thought it might be as I had found the previous wine benefitted from its citrussy intensity, but definitely more subtle.

I had found the Spy Valley wine enjoyable and moreish because of the flavorsome punch it packed and I fine this one enjoyable because it was nicely balanced. It makes me wonder whether about the extent to which personal circumstances, mood and attitude influence the impression of pleasure that is gained from any given bottle.

Those whom promote and believe in the benefits of biodynamic agriculture tend also to think that there is merit in following the biodynamic calendar to assist with the selection of wines that will taste their best on given days. This calendar is used to influence when particular tasks associated with planting and managing all manner of crops, not just grapes, to get the best results. It is based on astrology and as such should be a load of bollocks, however, I have read in creditable sources (creditable but unmemorable, it turns out, so I can't provide references) that the debate has moved on from 'does it work?' to 'how does it work?'. Could it be that may enjoyment of different styles of sauvignon blanc depend on the day on which I tasted them?

Did I enjoy the Spy Valley wine with its prominent fruit because I tasted it on a day when the moon was in one of the 'fire' constellations, making it a Fruit day? (Aires, Leo & Sagittarius.) Had it have been a Root day (moon in earth  signs: Capricorn, Taurus & Virgo) would it have left me dissatisfied? There are also Flower days and Leaf days, but you get the point. Do I care? not really. I am happy to say that these two wines are different and I enjoyed them both for different reasons.

Buy again? Maybe; probably not.

Hautes-Cotes de Beaune

There are some nasty rumblings in the news about the intentions of the Russians and a potentially disastrous conflict with Ukraine. Hopefully this is all 18th century style sabre rattling and good sense will prevail. Doesn't bear thinking about too much, but it does encourage the enjoyment of life's small pleasures whilst they are easy to come by. Here's one example:

Week H (2022) Bichot Bourgogne Hautes-Côtes de Beaune 2019. M&S £16.

Despite being a self-proclaimed fan of Pinot Noir I have to date only selected one red Burgundy as the wine of the week and I find myself wondering why that might be. I have selected Pinot Noirs from various parts of the globe but only the wine from Irancy in Week I (2015) which fell in that year's October, making it around six and a half years ago. Nearly a year ago, Week T (2021) I chose a Pinot Noir from New Zealand and at that time had a bit of an unstructured rant about the prices demanded for Burgundy, especially at the premium end, so it could easily be that I am a bit stingy (and I don't mean like a wasp. English is a tricky language).

This week I have found a reasonably priced Burgundy, some would say a cheap Burgundy, and so I thought I would give it a go.

It is labeled 'Hautes-Cotes de Beaune' and this is where it is helpful to understand just a little bit of how the French like to imply meaning in their labels rather than simply spitting it out, which would in any case be a waste. Unless you are at a posh tasting or attempting to judge 100 wines before lunch. More digression, for which I apologise. 'Hautes-Cotes de Beaune' tells us a few things. Firstly, the wine is indeed from Burgundy. Secondly, that it comes from the western slopes a little way from the core part of the Cote d'Or, the limestone ridge that forms the backbone of the entire region, between the village of Nuits-Saint-George and the town of Beaune, and is therefore a generic regional wine, rather than coming from a specific site. Those wines tend to be the more expensive examples, so that helps with the price.

It confirms that it has been made from Pinot Noir as other red grape varieties are not permitted, but it could include up to 15% of either Pinot Blanc or Pinot Gris, both of which are mutations of Pinot Noir, but it probably doesn't.

Ok, cork out, what have we got? We have a very pleasant, medium boded wine with quite a bit of charm and delicacy. There is plenty of the expected red fruit, a little spice and a gentle complexity that makes it interesting and enjoyable. It has a typical light ruby colour and a silky texture. The alcohol is not excessive, at 12.5%, and is integrated well with the predominantly redcurrant flavours. Some of its softness is likely attributable to it having spent 10 months in oak before release.

Buy again? Yes.

Garganega

We are already six weeks into 2022 and heading quickly towards a series of family celebrations of varying significance, from a 15th wedding anniversary, through an old man's birthday and on to a younger lady's 30th. You could add tomorrow's Valentine's Day, and the fondly remembered massacre, but that may be a step too far.

Meanwhile the Six Nations championship is underway and we now only need someone to beat the French and then it's anyone's game. Except Italy's. It would be nice to think that they may, one year, come second as they deserve better luck. Italy has contributed greatly to the world over the centuries (what did the Romans ever do for us?) In disciplines from science to culture, from music to wine, such as:

Week G (2022) Monte Tondo Foscarin Slavinus Soave Superiore, 2015. £14?

This is the last of the six bottles I was given in return for my semi-informed comments on the benefits of wine made from old vines. All of them came from Soave and we're all made with Garganega.

Soave comes from the Veneto region in the North-West of Italy, where Garganega is said to be at its best, and can include contributions from Trebbiano and Chardonnay, but this one is 100%. 

As with other Italian wines Soave has a few tiers of classification. Today's example is from the historical heartland of Soave and, therefore, labelled 'classico'. It also has about 1% more alcohol (at 13.5%) and so also gets to be called 'superiore'.

Compared to the five previously consumed bottles this one on first tasting had a hint of oxidation, which I don't believe would be intentional. Being six years old it could be more that tertiary flavours have developed misleading this reviewer. It certainly has a deep golden colour and nicely concentrated apricot and honey tones. There is also something flint-like in the finish.

It is very enjoyable and benefits from being given attention, as to glug this in an unthinking way would be to miss out on what it offers. 

I don't know what a bottle would cost, if it were available, but found '14' written on the bottle in the type of white ink often used in smaller wine merchant's shops and guess it must have meant pounds sterling. That seems a very fair price for a better than average white wine. 

I have read that Garganega also grows in Sicily where it is known as Grecanico Dorato, but have yet to encounter one of these. It would be interesting to know if the probably warmer climate of the southerly island would bring out any difference in character. I shall most likely never know.

Buy again? If I ever find any, yes.

Fleurie

I was reminded of a friend and former colleague as I was scanning the wine wall this week who, about 15 years ago, had a Friday night habit of celebrating the end of the working week with a pizza and a bottle of Fleurie. He was then, and is now, a keen triathlete and I find that encouraging as his habit can't have done him too much harm. If I ever consider a return to distance running I will be sure to put in a good few Friday suppers as part of my training. Meanwhile, I will raise a glass to Ricky with:

Week F (2022) Fleurie 2020. M&S £10.

It seems hard to believe now, but in 2006 I did take part in the London Marathon. I completed it, too. My training was more based on Guinness and pork scratchings and that might explain why it took me 2.5 times as long as the winner to complete the course. Fleurie and pizza next time. Probably without the marathon. Or any running at all.

So. What is this Fleurie of which I speak? It's from Beaujolais, the wine region to the south of Burgundy and to the north of The Rhone Valley, where the principal grape variety is Gamay. Fleurie itself is one of the 'Cru' villages, of which there are ten, known for producing the better regional wines on the western slopes of the Saone valley where the south-easterly aspect and good drainage provide ideal conditions.

Wines made from Gamay are usually lighter styles and have low tannin levels, so it at the other end of the spectrum from Primitivo, Malbec and other blockbuster grapes. The wines of Beaujolais also derive some of their characteristic flavours from the use of a production technique known as carbonic maceration. This involves putting hand-picked grapes into a large fermentation vessels that have been flushed with carbon dioxide, to remove oxygen, and allowing the weight of the grapes themselves to crush those lower down in the pile. As the juice is gently pressed out of the berries and it begins to ferment, more carbon dioxide is given off as a by-product of the conversion of the fruit sugars to alcohol and this further protects the juice from undesired oxidation.  

The resultant wine has light redcurrant, cranberry and floral flavours, sometimes reminiscent of bubble gum. If this last element is allowed to over develop it can lead to a wine that has a confected profile which has in the past given Beaujolais a less than glowing reputation.

My first mouthful of this wine caught me by surprise and I was concerned that there may be a little too much acidity but, once it had opened up post-decanting, I enjoyed this wine.

Buy again? One day. It's pleasant, but there are styles I enjoy more.

E Block - Spy Valley

One of the joys of getting older is observing how various organs of the body start to perform differently. Or, to put it another way, how most body parts start to fail.

No need to be alarmed as in this instance I only have eyesight in mind. I could venture elsewhere but it is Sunday and it doesn't feel appropriate. I got to the age of 58 before I accepted that I needed prescription spectacles, having previously survived by investing in petrol station style 'readers'.

Whilst shopping for a white wine for this week my attention was caught by the label of:

Week E (2022) E Block Spy Valley Sauvignon Blanc 2020. M&S £12 

I think you will be able to see what I mean if you take a look to the right. Both eyes open, no need to overdo it.

Like most people I am susceptible to the powers of clever marketing and this time, they got me. As it turns out I am quite pleased to have fallen prey to the intentions of the label designer as they led me to choose a Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand, which is a style I have something of a prejudice against. Not because I believe I dislike the style, but because in terms of wine exploration if feels like something of a cliché; an obvious choice.

This particular wine is fairly typical of that style, but once I tasted it I found myself reminded of why it is so popular. There are Sauvignon Blancs from Marlborough that underwhelm with weak flavours, low acidity and a generally dull impact and they are to be avoided. This is not one of those, as it bursts with citrus and floral tones and has enough acidity to make the palate tingle. The flavours last well in a lengthy fruity finish and it is rather moreish. 

This style makes a great aperitif, at least for the first glass, and went very well with a lemon and mustard chicken casserole.

Whilst the eyesight is diminishing and, I am told, the hearing may be following (I think that's what she said, I couldn't really hear...) I take some comfort that the senses of taste and smell seem to remain intact. Having said that I am now concerned that I have been led to that conclusion through sampling a wine that has bags of flavour. Hmmm,...watch this space.

The lesson from this week, as it has been from earlier weeks, is to avoid the prejudices and to try everything that's on offer, even if it may be overfamiliar.

Buy again? This style, yes. This wine? I have no reason why not.

Devil's Creek

We have reached the end of dry January and it hasn't been too bad for me. Mostly because I pay no heed to the very idea of it and haven't felt the need to moderate my intake. Keen as I am on wine and other alcoholic drinks, my consumption during the Christmas period was not excessive and I felt no need to deny myself pleasure anymore in January than I would at any other time of the year. The weather has been pretty grim for the last few weeks and wines like this week's choice do lift the spirit, I think.

Week D (2022) Devil's Creek Gold Reserve Pinot Noir. 2019. Majestic £17.99.

I am happy to have chosen a Pint Noir from central Otago, as I don't recall having tasted a bad one. This one fits the pattern nicely. It is a bright ruby colour, with suggestions of garnet which I expect would have become more prominent if I had left it unopened for a few years, smells of cherries and spice and tastes older than its three years since harvest. The tannin is smooth and the flavours hang around after the wine has been consigned to the lower reaches of the oesophagus. Happily the wine is much more elegant than the last sentence.

Devil's Creek takes its name from one of New Zealand's South Island rivers that triggered the gold rush in the 1860s, attracting people from all over the place to go and try their luck. Other than this providing the justification for naming the wine 'Gold Reserve' I can't find any significant connection with that precious metal. 

In fact, despite putting in slightly more than the usual amount of effort, I can't find much about Devil's Creek at all. There seems to be link with Foley Family Wines, who are based in Santa Rosa, California, and have 24 wineries on four continents which have become part of a single group over the last 25 years, but other than a few references in various places I can't find much more than that. 

Majestic appear to have the UK rights to the brand, or at least the distribution of it in these parts and that is helpful for me from a shopping perspective but not really enough to generate anything of interest for you, dear reader.

To summarise, I like the wine and I will certainly buy it again, especially as part of a mix six deal which would have saved me a fiver.

Chardonnay

Almost exactly a year ago I chose to write a few words about a bottle of Chablis that had been received as a gift. I had forgotten this until I looked back at my archive to check how many times before I had selected a Chablis. Once, it would seem. On this occasion I had already decided to justify my selection with the claim that C is for Chardonnay, rather than Chablis but as you know one is a grape and the other is a village where it is grown, so both work. Is it wrong of me to hope there may be a pattern emerging as this week's bottle was also generously provided as a Christmas gift? Either way, it is:

Week C (2022) Domaine Servin 'Les Pargues' Chablis, 2020. Laithwaites £18.49.

For those who are interested in such things you may be aware that the classification system for Chablis follows the structure applied nationally in France, as you would expect. That is, the regulations for labelling starting at the lower quality levels allow the fruit used in a wine to have been grown in a wide area. The 'Vin de France' designation simply requires the grapes to have grown on French soil. However, as the labelling becomes more specific the regulations become more demanding (or vice versa, perhaps). The next tier, IGP (indication géographique protégée) requires fruit from a specific region, Bordeaux would be an example, and the third, AOP (Appellation d'origine protégée) can get very specific indeed.

To be labelled 'Chablis' a wine must have been made with grapes grown within the boundaries of a defined area around the eponymous village. But not all Chablis is simply 'Chablis' as there are tighter restrictions still that allow some wines to use 'Premier Cru' and at the top of the tree 'Grand Cru' labels. These indicate that the grapes come not only from Chablis, but from specific vineyards. There are 40 that qualify as Premier Cru vineyards and only seven that can claim Grand Cru status.

This week's wine is labelled as Chablis but it also tells us that the grapes came from a single vineyard called 'Les Pargues'. This vineyard can be found sitting between two neighbours, Vaillons and Montmains, both of which have Premier Cru designations and with whom it shares much in the way of soil, slope, orientation and the other characteristics that grant them their status. In fact, Les Pargues itself was previously accepted as a Premier Cru vineyard and only lost its accreditation after it had been abandoned during the Great War. The Servin family, who have been making wine in this northern part of Burgundy since 1654, started to restore Les Pargues in 1950 and claim the wine they produce from it is once again worthy of recognition as coming from a better site.

Laithwaites appear to be the biggest (only?) UK distributor of Servin Les Pargue Chablis and customer reviews on their website for this wine vary widely. So, what do I think?

It has an attractive, mid-yellow colour with some green tones, smells of ripe red apples and tastes of the same with warmer, stone fruit flavours. It is rich and smooth and not at all tart. It has an enjoyable lengthy finish of peach.

Each to his own, they say, and to paraphrase Lord Flasheart, I am happy that some don't like this as it leaves all the more for us real men (and women, of course).

Buy again? I would, especially when I have drunk the rest of the Chablis I have recently hidden in the cupboard above the freezer.

Brindisi

This week's choice was made easy for me by a generous friend who, along with a small number of other friends, helped us to kick-off the New Year in a gentle and enjoyable way. Not for us the post-midnight revelries of earlier years, but the New Year's Day leftovers lunch and a game of cards. He made it easy by bringing along:

Week B (2022) Sette Muri Brindisi Reserva 2017.  ~£12.50 Various.

This is 100% Negroamaro, a grape I have enjoyed previously, and comes from the eponymous town, Brindisi, on the east coast of Puglia towards the heel of Italy. It's twelve years since we went to Puglia, but the fond memories linger. I must go down to the sea again, the lonely and sky, as they say. (Spike Milligan re-finished that poem with 'I left my vest and socks there, I wonder if they're dry?', which has stuck with me since the early 1970s when I read it in a little book titled 'The little pot boiler', kindly given to me by an Aunt.) I've done it again, Dad (Dick Emery, also 1970s), by which I mean I have digressed.

I have often commented that reading about the weekly wine: who made it, where it is made, etc., leads to at least mildly interesting places most of the time. This week I have learned that Sette Muri means 'seven walls' and refers to the paths around the walls of Brindisi's vineyards that are themselves between walls. Guess how many there are? Yup. I also learned that Brindisi is one terminus of the Appian Way, one of the earliest and most famous long Roman roads. I also read that the city of Brindisi has a name meaning 'a dear's head' because of the shape of the port, but I checked that last point with Google translate and am left with some suspicion that either a) Google translate doesn't work or b) there is some degree of folk legend influencing the bottle notes. Try it.

The Appian Way itself also warrants exploration. I have deskbound exploration in mind presently, but there's a seed of an idea there for a post-plague holiday, too. Wikipedia has an interesting page on the subject.

So, to the wine. Negroamaro still means 'bitter black' and still doesn't taste that way. It is quite deeply coloured, but more red than black, it is an easy, enjoyable glass of wine ideal for sampling alongside a plate of charcuterie, cheese and sourdough crackers, as I have recently proved. It is medium bodied, has flavours of cherries, plums and cranberries, perhaps a hint of vanilla, and doesn't feel at all heavy despite its 14% abv (labeled).

I read that the grapes were harvested in mid-October and the wine fermented for 20 days before ageing for six months in French oak. All of which has produced a wine I would happily buy again. Perhaps I should and then I could allow my generous friend to enjoy it with me.

Ascheri

Happy New Year to you all. Welcome to dry January, by which I mean welcome to this week's crisp, citrus, mineral and, most fittingly, dry white wine:

Week A (2022) Ascheri Gavi di Gavi DOCG, 2020. Tesco £13. 

It has been an enjoyable festive season, with family and friends all staying well and happy. One or two infected with a mild dose of the current plague, but generally staying out of trouble. Our bottle tree is becoming nicely populated, reflecting a good effort over the recent past, and I am looking forward to adding this one to the collection.

In support of that ambition let's get tasting. Gavi is a commune in Piemonte, North West Italy. The Cortese grapes for this particular Gavi wine were grown within the boundaries of the Gavi commune itself and therefore, this bottle is labelled 'Gavi di Gavi', whereas other Gavi wines which can be made from grapes grown in the neighbouring villages are labelled simply as 'Gavi'. As I have said before, I really love the complications and subtleties of the Italian wine world.

Ascheri have been producing wines for close to 150 years and are a respected maker of the traditional wines of the region. They have a portfolio including Barolos, Dolcettos and Barbarescos alongside white wines such as this on and others made from Moscato and Arneis.

The Gavi di Gavi is made from 100% Cortese that was harvested in mid-September, fermented for 15 days and left to rest on the lees until the following Spring to add complexity and  soften the acidity.

It tastes mostly of citrus fruits, lead by lemon and grapefruit with a touch of lime, and has a long mineral finish. These flavours develop as the fruit grows in the hot summers when the cold nights allow some respite from the heat and prevents the fruit over-ripening. The winters are cold and the vines become dormant under the snow, followed by wet springs to provide he ground water that the grapes will need later in the year.

This is a really great start to the New Year and I commend this wine to the house. Which is another way of saying that I expect to buy it again.

Zweigelt

Christmas arrived on time yesterday and Boxing Day did the same today. Family arrived in various combinations earlier in the week and we are now seven-strong, and that is a huge improvement on last year.

As a consequence, there have been many bottles opened in the last week and, I strongly suspect, a few more to be treated in the same way over the next, but the one that helps us to round off this latest attempt to try 52 wines in 52 weeks is:

Week Z (2021) Von Der Land Zweigelt, 2019. Majestic £11.99 (£8.99) 

It is strangely pleasing to have made it through the year from Week A (2021) to Week Z (2021) having found each of 26 reds and 26 whites (actually there were a couple of pinks, but I allow that) representing the letters of the alphabet. It is over eight years since I put myself on this trail and although there have been fallow periods I am pleased to have resurrected the habit successfully in this last year.

I don't care one jot that I am the only reader; I actually take some comfort in that if anyone else stumbles across this blog (other than the Russian and Chinese bots and the US Secret Services who have been my companions all along and about whom I couldn't care less) I might be closer to the care home than I currently imagine.

For now, Zweigelt: An Austrian grape produced as a crossing of Blaufrankisch and St.Laurent, first brought into being by Friedrich Zweigelt in 1922 so close to a century ago. To avoid me typing too much about the history of the grape, have a look at Week Z (2014) when I last selected the grape. (That would be the Red Week Z (2014) as the White one was about Zenit, another crossing from another country.)

Zweigelt is a rich and juicy chap with plenty of both red and black fruits, backed up with some nice floral flavours. Think violets and cherries, of both hues, with blackcurrants and plums and some of those flavours will be recognisable in the glass, I believe. At least they were to me.

It is medium bodied and not unlike a new world Pinot Noir which if I had regular readers, other than the aforementioned, they would know that in my world, this is a Good Thing.

Next week will be the first (wine) week of 2022 and so I wish all good things to all people for the coming year.

Buy again? yes.

Yealands

It is a week until Christmas and I have been working hard, both at the Wigginton Community Shop and at Majestic Wines. Long days and I have one day left to complete the Christmas Shopping. That's tomorrow as I will be working until 8pm every day except Christmas Eve when I will finish at 5pm.

Why am I telling you this? Because by admitting that I have felt under pressure provides some explanation of how I chose a wine for this week that I last chose as recently as August of this year. At that time I was looking for a white wine to represent Week G (2021) and it was a better fit then than it is for:

Week Y (2021) Yealands Reserve Gruner Veltliner, 2020. Majestic 

I haven't listed the prices because: i) I have lost the receipt & ii) Majestic no longer include this wine of their website.

I'm not sure I have much to say about it that would be better than my last attempt. Although having just re-read that attempt it wasn't much about the wine then as, increasingly, my ramblings read like I have just typed whatever has come into my mind in the few nanoseconds before my fingers hit the keyboard. Much like now.

Let's give it a go anyway.

I really like this wine. It has all the refreshing qualities of a NZ Sauvignon Blanc without the grapefruit-in-your-face characteristics that those wine often have. Not always; I recently tasted the Greywacke SB and it was lovely. However, in addition to the citrus flavours, Gruner Veltliner offers some softer stone-fruit notes with a light peppery kick that makes for a pleasing combination.

Last time I wrote about this wine I suggested I would almost certainly buy it again and I have, albeit in an moderately unintentional way.

Assuming Majestic are broadly competitive with other suppliers and that last time I paid £12.99 for a bottle I believe this was a good value purchase. Especially as I got a staff perk price for this one!

Not much more to add as I have to get back to the Christmas preparations other than to wish all my reader (sic) a very Merry Christmas and to look forward to the next time.

Buy again, again? Why not, I probably couldn't avoid it anyway.

Xinomavro

I was tempted to go for X is for Xmas, but I have several problems with that, none of which holds sufficient interest for anybody for me to explain further.

Therefore, as predicted last week, X is for Xinomavro. Again.

Week X (2021) Thymiopoulos Xinomavro, 2018. £14.99 (£11.99) Majestic.

This is the third appearance in this blog made by this exact wine. The label is different this time, as is my supplier of choice, but it is the same wine. That gives me something of a problem as I have already researched the producer and described the flavours and aromas on offer in previous editions.

The last occasion I wrote about it was in Week X (2015). It was exactly a year after my first review and on that occasion, as in both years the wine had been the 2012 vintage, I had the sensible idea of buying a third bottle to compare at some point in the future the characteristics revealed by additional bottle age.

Of course the road to hell is paved with such good ideas and naturally I did not follow through. Usually a good thing but on this occasion, regrettable.

As luck would have it we do at least have a different vintage to play with. It doesn't help with the benefits of ageing as this wine is being tasted three years after harvest, as it was in 2015. Having read that last sentence back I am now pondering the very idea of the benefits of ageing. My knees aren't convinced there are any to be had, but I think maybe wisdom is claimable. Dunno. 

This vintage seems to be at least as good as the 2012 at around the same age. It has lots of red fruit, cherries seem prominent, and a hint of spice. It has a similar feel to Pinot Noir and the brightness of a Northern Italian red. It has some complexity and a pleasingly long finish.

So, to sum up, much the same as previous tastings and demonstrable consistency across the years. I doubt I will buy it frequently, but am glad to know it is there should I want something from a less repeated regions.

Buy again? Eventually.

White Port

T'is nearly the season to be jolly, so I have branched out a little for this week's white wine, with something I probably would not have bought in the summer. I was in two minds as to whether or not this week's selection really qualifies, but then I decided as I had had no such qualms about including its red sibling back in Week Q (2014) I should get on with it.

Week W (2021) Taylor's Fine White Port NV Majestic £12.99 50cl (£9.99 mix six) 

Odd that I feel less likely to have bought it in the summer because it works rather well as an aperitif and especially over a little ice.

Majestic rate this as 'very dry' and other reviewers seem to agree. I don't. I think it has a distinct honey-led sweetness with some citrus notes and touches of oak.

Another source of disagreement is the varieties of grapes used. Majestic says Malvasia, whereas the producer's own website lists Arinto, Boal (Semillon), Codega, Esgana Cão, Folgasão, Gouveio, Viosinho and Rabigato varieties.

It could be that I am confusing to versions of the wine, but they are both labelled with the same name, so I don't know.

I would, under normal circumstances, investigate with more determination but I have a lamb shoulder to roast, some Christmas decorations to install and, most frightening of all, Christmas presents to organise, so this post is being done under some psychological pressure and that, real or imagined, is stemming my creative juices.

I am also somewhat fatigued as I am currently, and temporarily, employed by the organisation from whom I bought the above drink in a capacity that tests both my knowledge of wine and my decaying muscles. Such fatigue caused me to pre-select next week's wine, which needs to represent the letter X, as Baumes de Venise (Red, so that bit was good). My command of the alphabet deserted me. I will still try to avoid Xinomavro again, but will probably cheat somehow.

Buy again? Unlikley, but if The One likes it I may.

Vino Nobile di Montepulciano

I haven't checked, but I suspect this week we have the longest title since I started, stopped, restarted, paused (etc.) this exercise. Loads of winey based observations on offer with this one, which is:

Week V (2021) Bonacchi Vino Nobile Di Montepulciano, 2017. Majestic £15.99 (£13.99 mix six)

Firstly, it is obligatory to observe that although Montepulciano is a grape variety, it is not used in the production of Vino Nobile Di Montepulciano.  This is because there is both a village in Tuscany (western Italy) and a grape from Abruzzo (eastern Italy) that share a name. The eastern wine is known as Montepulciano d'Abruzzo, being made from that grape in that region. This one, the western option, is a noble wine from the village of Montepulciano, made with Prugnolo Gentile.  

As I have observed before, Italy likes to be difficult to understand. In this case they could have referred to the grape they have used as Sangiovese, making it more familiar to many drinkers including me, but instead used the local synonym.

Under its more familiar name it is the key ingredient in all of the many variations of Chianti, such as Classico, Superiore, Rufina, Colli Senesi, Fiorentini, etc, etc..

The makers, Bonacchi, describe Prugnolo Gentile as giving Vino Nobile as the highest expression of the Sangiovese of this land. A proud claim indeed, considering all the competition. Are they right?

As ever, I don't know about that as I simply haven't tasted enough of the other available 'expressions', but there is no doubt that this is a good wine. You could look back a few posts to Week Q (2021) to find a definition of Good Wine, if you have nothing better to do.

I decanted the wine before trying it, partly because I have a nice wine decanting funnel and I like to watch the liquid run down all parts of the inside of the decanter to provide some pre-tasting visual anticipatory excitement, and partly because I expected I wouldn't finish it in one sitting and so was curious to see whether an overnight rest in something other than the bottle would tease out any additional flavours or textures.

First impressions were very favourable. The wine was four years old so it had had some chance to develop more flavours than those of the grapes and it was very nicely balanced in terms of acidity and structure. The tannin was present, underpinning the red fruit and floral foundations, and there were also some spice and leathery tobacco elements that came through afterwards and towards the finish. These are likely the results of its time spent maturing in oak and then bottle. This wine rewarded thoughtful appreciation in place of hurried swilling and I did enjoy it. On day one I drank it with a pepperoni and chilli pizza which was a mistake. I should have chosen something with less spice, but as I drank most of it after I had finished eating that was ok.

On the second day I drank it as an aperitif because a couple of red wine drinking friends were on their way round and there wasn't enough left to share! Had it improved? Not really, but it was still lovely.

Drink again? Yes, especially at the mix six price (or less, which I will explain on another occasion).

Unctuous

I simply can't pick an Ugni Blanc every time I need to find a white wine for Week U. To avoid the problem I have chosen a wine which is soft, almost treacle-like and packed with flavour; unctuous, you might allow me to say. It is:

Week U (2021) Noe 30 Year Old Pedro Ximinez Sherry. Majestic £22.49 (37.5cl)

As we are approaching the festive season this is an appropriate selection. Referred to as some, including those nice people at Majestic, as Christmas in a glass.

I have reviewed a 'PX' Sherry once before, in February 2019 since you didn't ask, when I chose it for Week X and I believe this demonstrates not only how versatile the wine is, but also how necessity really is the mother of invention. That wine cost about half as much as this one, on a drop for drop basis, and I liked it. 

This PX has been made by Gonzalez Byass, one of the biggest Sherry producers who also own all of these brands, and it has been aged by them in the traditional solera system where wines of multiple vintages are blended progressively over many years to create the final product. (If you have nothing better to do and to saving repeating myself, you could look back at my Ximinez, Pedro entry for more waffle on this subject.) In this case some of the wine will be at least 30 years old before bottling giving it plenty of time to mature slowly and develop all of the rich, figs, treacle, caramel, dates and spice flavours that characterise the style. Think of it as the perfect friend of a mince pie, but also really good mates with soft cheese and ice cream.

Is it worth the premium price? In truth, as it is nearly three years since I last tasted a PX Sherry I can't be sure, but it is a very nice drop.

It is not a wine that you are likely to want to guzzle, as it is too thick for that, but it is a real treat on the right occasion. Christmas is approaching (as is yet another mutated virus, so get your shopping done quickly) and despite that being something of a mixed blessing, I could be persuaded to look forward to a log fire, a pile of small short-crust mince pies and a thick, sticky glass of Christmas.

Buy again? The style, yes, but as I still have an unopened 70cl bottles of the Valdespina from Week X (2019) it won't be for a while as it does keep rather well. 

Trapiche

Not a grape but a winery. Trapiche was established in 1883 and has been producing wine ever since. They have had a good run of plaudits and awards in that time and have been included by Drinks International in their '50 Most Admired Wine Brands' five times between 2014-2019. They have a dozen or so sub-brands and this week we have one of them:

Week T (2021) Trapiche Oak Cask Malbec, 2020. £7 Tesco 

The Oak Cask brand comprises seven wines, five of them red, and I am intrigued to find and try the Oak Cask Pinot Grigio on another occasion. The other white is Chardonnay which is a more usual candidate for maturation in oak.

This week we have the Malbec. Known now as the Argentinian red Malbec began its life in Cahors, in the South West of France, and was a traditional component in the Bordeaux blend. It is still permitted, but lost out to Merlot in the mid-20th century as the lending partner that can be used to soften the more tannic Cabernet Sauvignon. So, it packed its bags and headed off for sunnier climes (ah, happy days) and found fame and fortune on the other side of the Atlantic.

Trapiche make other wines from Malbec and a little research reveals that their Gran Medalla wine costs around three times as much as this one, so we are dealing with a more modest offering here.  That is not a criticism, I am just wanting to taste it in the correct context. 

I think I have tasted this before. Some months back, possibly more than a year ago, I read an article somewhere (apologies to the author and publisher, as I cannot remember where) that recommended a Malbec available in Tesco. I bought some, liked it and even forwarded the recommendation to a friend who had enjoyed a previous recommendation. That was for Colome's Estate Blend retailing at ~£20 and made from grapes grown in four different vineyards all at different altitudes, up to those from Altura Maxima at 3,111m, one of the highest vineyards in the world. The problem is, as I get older, I can't remember if the previously recommended wine was from Trapiche or Trivento which is also available at Tesco for about the same price.

It doesn't matter, because this is the one we have and I can't believe that the Trivento can be much better. It is a big soft, damsons and violets wine with some subtle spice. The oak is evident but not unpleasantly so, it just reinforces the smooth comforting feel of the black fruits. It is reasonably lengthy and easy to drink.

The grapes were grown between 750-1,110 m above sea level and that indicates how high Altura Maxima is, if that was needed, and allows the heat of the Mendoza plains to be moderated by the reduced temperatures at that height, avoiding the result becoming 'jammy'. Once fermented it rested in a combination of French and American Oak barrels for a year before being bottled and released.

I like it and at the price I will certainly buy it again.

Setubal

 Recently I placed an order with the Wine Society for ten bottles of wine, all from Portugal. These are to be used in the coming week for an evening with friends at a north London branch of the University of the Third Age (U3A). I had selected three white wines, one rose, five reds and a very sweet fortified wine. The prices ranged from £5.95 to £40. The delivery was as scheduled, but there had been an error in the packing. Instead of the £40 red I had been sent a second bottle of:

Week S (2021) Casa Ermelinda Freitas, Vinha do Torrao Rose 2020. Wine Society £5.95

To the absolute credit of the Wine Society when I called to let them know of the error they immediately agreed to send the missing red and told me to keep the spare rose. When they then discovered the missing wine was out of stock, they replaced it with a wine priced at £46 without asking for further payment. If you like wine and are not a member of the Wine Society you may be missing out.

As this is Week S (2021) and the spare wine comes from the Peninsula de Setubal it seemed too good an opportunity to miss. I have been planning to select a Soave, but that can wait a year or two.

There are two sub-regions to Setubal, itself a coastal region South of Lisbon, one of which is also called Setubal and is closer to the coast and more to the South and West. This is mostly known for the sweet fortified wines such as the one included in my selection. Those are made from Muscat of Alexandria and are usually very sweet indeed. The other sub-region is Palmela, more Northerly and to the East. Here a local Portuguese variety, Castelao, is required to be used although, as with this wine, other varieties are permitted.

Here we have a blend with one international variety, Syrah, making up 40% of the blend and the required Castelao contributing 30%. The remaining 30% is from the powerful red grape, Touriga Nacional, renowned for its role in the wine for which the country is best known: Port.

The makers recommend the wine to accompany fish and salads. We drank most of it with a chicken casserole, mashed potato, carrots and Romanesco, The One's favourite vegetable. The last glass was drunk by my daughter to accompany a bath taken to celebrate my grandson falling asleep without too much persuasion.

It seemed to fit both uses acceptably well. It is a young, fruity wine in a strawberry and raspberry sort of way and has, as do many roses (especially at this price point) a noticeable sweetness that is not overpowering. According to the technical data available from the producer, it has only 4.5 g/l of residual sugar, and that is usually an indication of a quite dry wine. Perhaps its the fruit. It is quite enjoyable and a long way from the pink drink I commented on three weeks ago.

November is probably not the best time of year for a wine of this style and a warm summer evening would most likely make it more appealing. Having said that for just under £1 a glass (at standard measures) it is a lot cheaper than a pint in a pub garden.

Buy again? Unsure. If I find the need for this style of wine then it would be a good candidate. Otherwise I would probably pick something from Provence and expect to pay double. Incidentally, Setubal is pronounced something like 'Shtoobel'.

Rhone

I am a regular golfer. This is not to everyone's taste, but it gives me a lot of pleasure, outdoor exercise and social interaction with a reasonably broad range of personalities. I do try to play to the best of my abilities although I have become comfortable with the idea that the only thing that is truly consistent about my playing is that I am inconsistent. Consistently inconsistent.

So it is with what I type. Only last week I told myself that the reason I write this blog is to encourage myself to try new wines and not always stick to those I already know and like. Well this week we have a wine I know I like. It is a staple of my vinous shopping list. It is:

Week R (2021) E.Guigal Cotes du Rhone, 2017. Various ~£12. 

It is such a regular choice of mine, and I know that I have made reference to it somewhere in this collection, that I had to use the search facility in my own blog to confirm that I hadn't chosen it as the weekly wine previously. Either I haven't or the search facility isn't what one should expect from a Google product.

Why is it such a repeated choice? Unlike me, it is consistent. It is good value and it can be relied upon to please guests, should we ever invite any.

It comes from the Southern Rhone and is somewhere towards the lower tiers of the classification hierarchy, not being even a Cotes du Rhone Village which requires the grapes to be sourced from a given set of locations. That means the grapes could come from anywhere in the Southern Rhone and you might think this would reduce the quality of the wine. It doesn't. It just means that it can't be sold as having been made from grapes grown in a more specific and limited place.

Guigal do make wines from the length of the Rhone Valley, including some very highly regarded sites in St Joseph and Cote Rotie, and of those I have tasted they all give great enjoyment.

In the Southern Rhone there are many wines made from a blend often referred to as GSM, standing for Grenache, Syrah & Mourvedre. Guigal have taken a slightly different approach as their's is a SGM blend, giving precedence to the Syrah. Regulations require that where more than one grape variety appears in a blend then they must be listed in descending order of proportion. The blend here is 50% 40% 10%.

They produce about 4 million bottles a year of this wine and I think it is a remarkable achievement that the contents of each bottle is predictable in terms of its characteristics.

The makers say it goes well with cold meats, meats, game bird and cheese. Also Twiglets, I think.

Buy again? Absolutely!

Quercus

Being a child of the 1960s I hit my impressionable years at the time when Monty Python's Flying Circus was in its prime. I have always had a good memory and I put this to good use in my school years by learning, verbatim, the dialogue from the Python sketches that appealed to me most. I was not alone in this endeavour, but I do think I was better at it than most. On reflection, half a century later, I do wonder how different life may have been if I had devoted just a little more of my time to whatever it was my teachers were trying to teach me and a little less to the frivolities that I enjoyed so much.

Why is this relevant? Arguably, it isn't and that illustrates the point that this particular leopard has retained its spots rather well. The tenuous link is that, much to the surprise of many by-then twentysomethings, in 1985 John Cleese took the role of Sherrif Langston in a western movie called Silverado and that is the Californian town where the following is produced:

Week Q (2021) Bread & Butter Chardonnay 2019. Majestic £13.99.

I like Chardonnay and have in these notes previously poured scorn upon those who take pride in drinking ABC (Anything But Chardonnay). I don't need to repeat myself here, their folly is their loss.

I like Chardonnay for the same reason that it has become one of the world's leading and most popular varieties. It is immensely versatile and can, and is, used to produce steely mineral Chablis, mellow and smooth White Burgundy and a wide range of styles between those two and the tropical fruit flavoured wines from warmer regions.

Bread & Butter produce a range of single varietal wines, red, rose and white, sparkling and still, which they market with the advice 'don't over think it' and 'a good wine is one you like'. I rather like that. The downside for me is that advice puts in a nutshell why this blog and so many like it are almost entirely pointless. At least pointless from the point of view of the reader. And that's you. I get something out of it and that is the simple motivation to try more wines for my own pleasure rather than settling always for a few that I know I already enjoy. If you want to stick with me, please do but don't blame me for its quality. A good blog is one you like.

I appear to have gone off the point again.

My bonus daughter introduced me to this week's wine. It was rather pleasing to have another member of the family enthuse about wine, as that doesn't happen very frequently. Daughter No 1 enjoys Sauvignon Blanc and, indeed, other bright and fruity wines, but she would not agree about this one.

The key point of disagreement would be the use of Oak, which also happens to be the reason it qualifies for Week Q as Quercus is the genus which defines Oak trees. There are over 500 species in the genus, which like the wine, makes my head spin. 

Oak really features in this wine. It is not at all subtle, instead choosing to be up front and allowing the drinker to decide whether this is a good wine or not. In terms of the style of Chardonnay we are certainly not dealing with a Chablis wannabe and the oak is so prominent it is more like the wines produced 20 years ago in Australia than those from Burgundy. My first taste was a bit of a shock. It would be going too far to say that it was like being hit in the face with an oak plank although it did have a powerful effect. I like delicacy in wine, usually, just like I like dark and malty beers rather than larger, but there are times when a cold larger hits the spot better than an Old Ale. That's why I choose to call this a good wine. Not for its subtly, but for its attitude. To quote Gloria Gaynor, 'I am what I am and what I am needs no excuses!'.

Buy again? Yes, for the right occasion and to wine brownie points from the bonus.

Pink

Being a bit of a recovering wine bore I still enjoy the complexity of wine. Not just the complexity that is derived through the processes involved in converting fruit juice into a delicious alcoholic drink, but also the complexity in the language used to describe the products. However, along with the fun of untangling the meaning buried in this complexity there are also risks:

Week P (2021)  Healy & Gray Zinfandel Rose. 

This is not a memoir of wine expertise. It is a reminder to myself that despite all of the courses, the reading, the pretense of understanding and the ego, sometimes the obvious is more easily spotted by those who don't have much of an interest in the subject.

Together with The One, I recently ventured towards the frozen North to attend an event based around a celebration of the focus of my other hobby: cheese. To make the trip less of a mission and more of a short break we traveled to the event on the night before and had booked ourselves into a local pub for Bed & Breakfast.

It was a nice enough pub. The room was named 'Dolly' after one of the seven Llamas living in the garden, and all the facilities worked as designed. No complaints at all.

We had booked a table for an evening meal as the pub was not really near anywhere else other than a nice looking hotel of which I was unaware at the time of booking. Next time, perhaps. Not because I am that much of a snob, I like pubs, but because a night away for a trip based around cheese needs to offer something to all of those traveling.

We took our place at the table and ordered pre-dinner drinks. A pint for me and a Rose G&T for the lady. On arrival the young waiter politely announced 'a pint of Cheshire Cat and a Grapefruit G&T'.  We exchanged glances. 'No, sorry, we ordered a Rose gin, please'.  'Yes, that's right, it's a grapefruit gin', said the young man. Hmm,... after some more discussion a replacement was delivered. It was gin, but the rose element was lacking. No bother, it will do.

Then the menu. Should we choose a la carte or take advantage of 'Burger night' which offered two burgers, of various styles, plus a bottle of wine all for £30? I love a bargain, so burgers it was. The wines offered were: 1. Sauvignon Blanc, 2. Pinot Grigo, 3. Merlot, 4. Zinfandel.  So, two white and two red, I thought. I made my choice and The One expressed surprise at my selection. 'Oh, no' I explained, 'it will be a robust red, made from Zinfandel which is also known as Primitivo'. 

It wasn't. This was worth every penny I spent on it. That is, two burgers for £15 each is about right, down South, so the wine was 'free'. 

I am not an advocate of teenage drinking. I'm not allowed to be, even though I was keen on it in my own formative years, but I do think the idea of educating young people in the joys and dangers of alcohol is sensible. I understand the French are good at this. The alternative is that teenaged girls, at whom wines like this must be aimed, will discover these sugary alcoholic fruit juices and dice with all manner of unintended consequences. It was, put simply, horrible.

Finally, the coffee served at breakfast alongside an excellent sausage sarnie. Undrinkable.

Otherwise it was a great trip. For me the highlight was that after having watched James Martin prepare four excellent looking cheese-based recipes in 40 minutes we later watched Marco Pierre White take the same amount of time to scramble an egg. Together with the gin episode, the undrinkable wine and undrinkable coffee, we have lots to look back on and laugh.

Buy again? Never. Absolutely never.

Oxford Landing

The City of Oxford was a paddle steamer that plied its trade up and down the Murray River until one day during a storm that raged across South Australia, it came to grief. One piece of wreckage was washed up on the banks of the river near to the site where vines for wine grapes were recently planted. This week's wine is named in honour of that unfortunate vessel:

Week O (2021) Oxford Landing Chardonnay 2020. Waitrose £6.69 

I have tasted this wine before as I included it in my selection of wines to illustrate the range of styles that are produced across South Australia, and the little introduction above reflects the blather I delivered to cover the silence between tasting and evaluation on that occasion. That was seven years ago this month and, apart from the label, nothing much has changed. It is a well flavoured wine with a blend of stone fruits, tropical fruits and a bit of citrus. It doesn't pretend to be competing with white burgundy, Chablis, or any other classic Chardonnays but it remains good value, easy to drink and enjoyable.

Compared to the 2014 tasting, which was of the 2013 vintage, this wine is a tad more acidic in terms of pH value, but has marginally less total acid per litre. Curious that, and I can't explain that little paradox. Both wines were 13% abv and both the weather conditions and winemaking processes are described similarly in the maker's technical notes.

This all fits the profile of a wine that is made to be consistent, year-on-year, as it is aimed at a market that expects Oxford Landing Chardonnay to taste like Oxford Landing Chardonnay and has little interest in the potential variations that wine geeks choose to find fascinating.

I find myself short of much more to say about it so I will jump to the end. Would I buy it again? Yes, mostly because it is very good value if what is required is a white wine for slurping with friends, probably in a casual party kind of way.

Seven years ago I paid £7.99 for a bottle at Majestic. I expect I bought it with other wines to get the 'mix six' price. This year I bought the same wine for £1.30 less. Inflation has been low in the time between the two transactions, but there has been some. Wine Duty has increased, too, so a 16% reduction seems like a bargain. The Aussie dollar was worth about 54p in 2014 and is the same today and so the difference isn't about currency fluctuations. I shall, therefore, simply be grateful.

It also makes me think that this would be a good time to go back down under, which would be nice, assuming that the pandemic doesn't kick off again. How can that be made to happen? Hmmm,....

Ned

I first came across The Ned as a friend's recommdation for a well-priced and enjoyable New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc. He turned out to be correct. I have been aware for some time that there was a stablemate but had not previously tried it, so:

Week N (2021) The Ned Pinot Noir 2020. Waitrose £13.49 

The price of the Pinot Noir is about double that of the Sauvignon and I hoped it would mean that it would be twice the value. Let's see.

In previous posts I have expressed a penchant for Pinot Noir and especially those of the supposedly new world as they tend to be more reliable and available at a price point I can manage. This one is good. A little more acidic and perhaps a touch less smooth than my 'go to when available' Errazuriz Coastal Series, which is a lot cheaper, but still enjoyable and not unreasonably priced.

Apart from that it doesn't leave me much to remark on. I like it, but it hasn't rocked my world.  I drank it over a couple of days and it did, perhaps, soften slightly after being opened and depleted by about 50%, but it was not a significant change.

I have a couple of bottles of a red Burgundy from Aloxe Corton, 2009 & 2010 respectively, sitting in my 'cellar' and I have been waiting for the right time to open them. I can't remember where I bought them (was it Costco?) although I think they were keenly priced. I like to think that when at last I pull the corks I will be rewarded with a complex and delicate wine that will knock this week's selection into the proverbial cocked hat, however, if that doesn't happen I suspect it will reinforce my prejudice in favour of new world Pinot Noir. If it does then I will have to reassess my wine budget! 

If I remember, I will report back.

Buy again? See above.

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.