A week of blind tasting began on Wednesday with an impromptu visit from Nic, a mathematician friend and hopeful for the Oxford team this year. I took the opportunity to test him with a wine from his homeland, the 1992 JB Becker Wallufer Oberburg Auslese Riesling (£22), which he identified correctly, albeit 4 years out on the vintage (not bad for an aged wine). It’s a stunner, but definitely at the end of its viable life span. Deep gold, it has loads of honey, petrol, peach, and ripe melons on the nose. The entry is sweet, the palate powerful, with candied orange and petrol coming through. It’s really ripe and botrytised, but the acid has rather fallen away (a comment I made when I last tasted it a year ago, but even moreso now). Still extremely pleasant though.
In return, he brought a 2001 Marques del Romeral Rioja Reserva (£10) for me to try, which I manifestly failed to identify, which I put down to its anonymous, powerful, alcoholic, jammy “could be anything” style. It’s heady, and powerful, and to its credit it has lots going on – cherries, leather, jam, liquorice and fuckloads of oak (its American-ness well masked). Ultimately it's a well made wine but I simply can’t drink much of it, and don’t really want to, as it less individuality than even the Marks & Spencer food hall from which it was purchased.
On Saturday it was my turn to go up to Oxford with a case of wine for the team. Six whites were disappointing across the board, starting with the 2006 Loimer Gruner Veltliner (Kamptal, Austria, £10). Very pale and clear, the restrained nose shows faint pear, lime and citrus notes. The palate is ripe with high acidity, chalky minerality and only hint of white pepper on the finish. It’s actually a nice wine, (a few weeks ago I said it would be my house wine for the summer), but it wasn’t showing that well, with the rather faint nose and crisp but unexciting palate not really showing enough Gruner identity for blind tasting purposes.
The 2007 Springfield Estate Sauvignon Blanc (Robertson, South Africa, £9) followed, which I didn’t at all mind. Very pale, there was some visual spritz in the glazz. The nose is pungent, vegetal, salty, the palate herbaceous with some tropicality. I found it quite Marlborough in style. I was, however, alone, as most others found it aggressive, unclean, sweaty and un-charming.
The 2002 Zusslin Clos du Liebenberg Riesling (£12) was utterly disappointing (a wine I have been enthusiastic about on other occasions). It had a lustrous gold colour but an overbearing nose of caramel, botrytis, orange peel. The palate is overripe and flabby, the acid is fading, its Riesling identity horribly masked by the use of a whole slab of botrytis grapes in a dry wine. What a shame.
This was followed by the 2006 Duncan McGillvray ‘Beau Sea’ Viognier (Adelaide Hills, South Australia, £10). Mid straw in colour, it had a promising nose: floral, honeyed, even a hint of liquorice. But the palate palate is vegetal and viscous and any purity of fruit hidden by oak that acted like cotton wool around the flavour.
Another wine that has impressed on previous occasions, the 2004 Domaine des Forges ‘Clos du Papillon’ Savennieres (£12) was again disappointing. It presented as bright gold with a ripe nose of honeycomb and sandalwood, and faint dried apples. But it had lost all the vigour of its youth, the palate being distinctively woody, fat, flabby, herbal, and with none of the rasping acidity that I remember from previous bottles.
The white flight finished, unmercifully, with a bottle of 2002 Alfred Bonnet Freidelscheimer Schlossgarten Riesling (Pfalz, £9) that was heavily oxidised and could have been mistaken for apple juice.
The reds on the other hand were all displaying beautifully, and all textbook examples of their respective styles. We opened with 2005 Frederic Mabileau ‘Racines’ Bourgeuil (£12), which I reviewed last week, but that bears repetition. It was inky red-purple with fresh, peppery, crunchy fruit and a metallic streak. High in acid, very up front and vigorous.
Second, the 2001 Delas Marquise de la Tourette Hermitage (£26) – translucent brick red, with leather, chocolate, liqueur notes and loads of salted meats. Lean and savoury on the palate (“tomato soup” said Will) with red fruits and boiled lollies in the background. Not a heavy Hermitage at all, and I equivocate about whether it will get that much better in the future, but certainly drinking very well now.
1995 Faustino I Gran Riserva Rioja (£12), obtained by chance as a gift this week, was tawny in colour. Leathery, chocolatey nose with obvious spicy oak. “Mushrooms and earthiness”, observed others. Sweet vanilla comes through on the palate with sweet ripe cherries and soft ripe tannins. Personally I’m not really a fan of Rioja at all but it was showing well. Interestingly, those who got it wrong in the blind tasting mistook it for old Burgundy. John tells me that these two wines are very commonly confused with each other (an MW friend of the society even confessing as much). The reason why I find this interesting is that you see all these people creaming their pants over old Burgundy, but when was the last time you ever heard anyone bang on about Rioja, huh? Oh yeah, Burgundy, the poet’s wine, greatest wine in the world, transcendental, the search for the perfect bottle – mm, truffles, undergrowth etc etc. And yet poor old Rioja, mistaken for it in a blind tasting, languishes in frosted bottles at a fifth of the price on the bottom shelf at Tesco. Get your house in order, Burgundy fans and tell us what the big deal is.
From Spain to Italy, the 2004 Castella della Peneretta Chianti Classico (£10) had a restrained, very quiet nose that eventually shows a bit of cherry sherbet and sour cherries. There’s some vanilla and bitter fruit on tehpalate, with obviously grippy tannins at the end and very cleansing acid.
Continuing the theme of wines from countries that speak romance languages, the 2005 Montes Alpha Cabernet Sauvignon (Aconcagua Valley, Chile, £10) showed very typical smoked peppers (burnt matches, said others) and jammy ribena/blackcurrant fruit, caramel, and mint. There’s plenty going on, and the wine has a creamy, liqueur-like palate with well structured tannins. Not everyone’s favourite style (“like Ribena poured on a diesel engine” in Andras’s words), but I really quite enjoyed it.
And to finish, the obligatory claret, 2001 Chateau Barrabaque (Canon Fronsac, £11). I bought a case of this about a year ago and have been trying to get rid of it for ages (it’s filed under “allegedly good stuff that other people like, for giving as gifts but that I don’t really want to drink” in my cellar), as it tasted like nothing more than cedarwood and people shouting, even at an age where it was said to be at its best. Now, finally, when I only have 3 bottles left, it’s showing beautifully. Pure coffee beans, mint and cedar on the nose. The palate is as thick as the front row of the Canterbury Bulldogs, with weight of fruit, an attractive burnt brandy edge too. Lots of interest. Now I’m wishing I’d kept more than I had, and got rid of all those horrible whites that I unfortunately have quite a lot of left.
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2 comments:
That 95 Faustino is often bretty and feral as hell..but this one sounds pretty good. And there are good bottles I know. I love Rioja both modern and old school from Roda to Riscal. Massively under-rated.
GW
Interesting. I only came across it by chance as I was given 3 bottles of it as a gift. It seemed to divide people at the tasting. Cici, from Mexico, said they drink it all the time over there and she instantly recognised it because she hates it. Others were a bit cagey - "horse sweat" and "mushrooms" cropped up a lot but one never knows with these sorts of words whether they're intended as compliments or not. Gran riserva is certainly an "acquired taste" so to speak - the extra time it spends in barrel isn't always to everyone's taste, especially if you don't like too much of an oxidative/oaky dimension to the wine.
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