OK, after a long time typing up my notes from the scores of wines tasted at the Planet of the Grapes tasting last week I am finally ready to release my opinions to the public. Originally my plan was to present my complete and unabridged notes. However I am not a professional taster (if only) and so, after about 40 wines my concentration began to wane (along with my ability to write) and I don’t think that my readers would be greatly assisted by the resultant notes, which consisted of incisive remarks such as “minrmmmly/chooolfm…dog” and “orly +? shiraz?” together with smears of bodily fluids.
So instead of being prolific but boring (like the Etudes of Czerny), I propose to present two smaller batches of hopefully worthwhile notes (like the Etudes of Chopin). The first, contained herein, is called “interesting and different” and comprises notes of those wines that, rather obviously, I either found particularly interesting or were made from different or unusual grape varieties. A further post will follow with my notes of other wines that I simply found to be of high quality or value or otherwise worthy of comment.
And here they are:
2006 Domaine Felines Jourdan Picpoul de Pinet (£9)
I had never tasted a varietal Picpoul before, the grape being known to me only as one of the permitted whites in Chateauneuf du Pape. The guy behind the counter described it as being ‘real peasant’s wine’ (‘peasant’ being a compliment these days in certain circles), so I will start drinking it regularly once I buy a beret and take up backgammon. Austere nose of slate, armpit and grape fruit. Palate shows hay, grape fruit, moderate acid and a lingering sappiness/greenness. Worthwhile.
2006 Nautilus Pinot Gris (Marlborough, NZ) (£14.50)
There is a real dispute as to whether Pinot Gris smells of ‘pork fat’. James Simpson MW thinks it does, and he’s an MW so his opinion is probably valid. I have found it less helpful as a descriptor, but this wine really does have a pork fat/pork scratchings nose, together with the poirewilliam/pear drops more commonly associated with Pinot Gris. Unfortunately I had already lost credibility as a taster with the guy behind the counter because I had described a 2005 Pazo Senorans Albarino (Spain) (£12) as smelling like pork fat and nacho cheese flavour Doritos. So he did not accept my pork fat comment. (You really have to earn respect at ‘public’ tastings. At ‘trade’ tastings they assume you know what you’re talking about – at public tastings it’s quite the opposite, and usually for good reason. Still, it annoys me). He insisted instead that this Pinot Gris had a ginger and lemon tea dimension to the nose, which I’ll allow. In any case the wine has a zesty entry, with green pears, a bit of hay, and a soft lingering finish with even a hint of parsley. Perfect for Chinese food/noodle dishes. (Incidentally the Albarino DID smell of Doritos, at least initially, with hay, chorizo, and olives on the nose. The palate is all lemons and melons with a rather short finish).
2005 Jean Daneel Signature Chenin Blanc (South Africa) (£20)
I’ve already noted this wine elsewhere, but it was showing particularly well today – in fact I would say it was the best white wine of the tasting. Golden yellow – dried apples, pears, caramel and vanilla on the nose. Palate shows honey, caramel, sandalwood. Rich, lots of finesse, no corners. A small percentage of botrytis affected grapes is included in the blend, to great effect. This wine is definitely going in the ‘wines I pull out for wine lovers’ box. (One MUST have interesting things of high quality in reserve for one’s wine loving friends. Interest alone is insufficient – they also have to be good wines. If you start bringing Bulgarian Traminer to tastings you will get a reputation for stinginess that is hard to shed…)
2005 J Lohr ‘Wildflower’ Valdigue (USA) (£10)
Valdigue is pretty common in the Midi, apparently, but the only reason they grow it in the US is that they thought they were growing Gamay for decades before ampelographers told them otherwise. A bit like learning that the ‘original’ Rembrandt on your wall is actually a fake. Still, it shouldn’t matter if the quality of the wine produced is good. The wine has rhubarb, red fruit and boiled lolly characters on the nose, and slightly vegetal hint. There is some Cottee’s strawberry jam on the entry with some sweetness. (For my UK readers, Cottee’s is a very mainstream Australian brand of cordial and jam, one step up from Home Brand products. Only one step up though – still lots of sugar). An interesting one off, but too sugary and confected for my liking.
2004 Cline ‘Small Berry’ Mourvedre (USA) (£21.50)
It is not usual to find an American attempt at a wine that is more subtle than its French equivalent. Usually US wines are a bit like the Canyonero – 12 yards long, two lanes wide, 65 tons of American pride. Loads of coffee, spearmint, eucalypt and anise on the nose. Palate shows loads of black fruit, intense, liquoricy. Supple but firm tannin finish. A big wine, let there be no doubt, but not as black and gothic as some Bandols I’ve had.
2004 Ridge Lytton Springs Zinfandel (USA) (£25)
A really serious attempt at Zinfandel here. Liquorice, black jelly babies on the nose, with something fruity like fibrous peach or peach stones. Thick, fruity palate, very supple, almost no discernible acid or tannin on the finish. Zin isn’t really my cup of tea, but this is as serious as they come.
Showing posts with label chenin blanc. Show all posts
Showing posts with label chenin blanc. Show all posts
Friday, 15 June 2007
Monday, 28 May 2007
Lincoln's Inn Loire Valley & Bordeaux tasting
When you go to a wine show, the last thing you want to do is give your honest opinion of a bad wine to the exhibitor’s face. Usually exhibitors make you taste your way through a forest of appalling lesser wines – usually their ‘unwooded Chardonnay’ (code for ‘we’re pricing this at £2 so we can’t afford oak barrels’), or their ‘unique’ Riesling-Viognier blend (code for ‘it’s much easier to offload one badly made wine than two’), or their ‘barbecue Rosé’ ‘for drinking rather than thinking’ according to the pamphlet – before they let you loose on the good stuff.
Accordingly it is wise counsel for the amateur, if he doesn’t want to lie outright or attract the exhibitor's ire in the form of a glass to the face or a corkscrew to the bottom, to at least cloak his true opinion in apparently complimentary terms. I learnt this lesson very quickly after describing a 1991 Chateau Pichon Lalande as 'stinking like a public toilet' to one of the chateau's reps direct from France, and we all know how the Bordelais take such comments. I had to move hemispheres before I was able to blag my way back into a Bordeaux trade tasting, and have shut the hell up ever since. So when Cookie told me at yesterday’s Loire Valley tasting in our living room that the 2004 Domaine de la Cotellaraie St-Nicolas-de-Bourgueil (£8) ‘stank of farts and poo’ I quickly reminded her that in wine parlance we would prefer her to say it ‘had a wild, untamed earthy nose of barnyard and truffles’.
In the wine’s defence, the initial bottle stink went away after a couple of hours and in my opinion was one of the standouts of the tasting. The nose ended up developing a rich fruitcaky character, the palate following through with dried fruits, pepper and a ripe tannin finish.
Here are my notes for the rest of the stuff we tasted yesterday.
First a pair of Muscadets. 2005 Chais de la Grange Muscadet (£5) was pretty much par for the course – soft nose of white fruits, a little salty and yeasty, with a prickly finish on the tongue. Not at all interesting, but textbook in style. Ruth didn’t think it really smelt of anything, which is probably right. Beside it, a 2005 Le Vieux Chai Muscadet Sèvre et Maine ‘Sur Lie’ (£5), which was not showing at its best. Ruth noticed an unattractive, solvent/glue note on the nose – others thought it was like aniseed (Adam), pear drop ester (Andrew) and bananas (Bobby). Not particularly pleasant at all. Crowd reaction: boring.
Then a pair of Sauvignon Blancs – one Sancerre, one Pouilly-Fumé. Personally I’d like some definitive guidance on what the stylistic differences are between these two regions. The World Atlas of Wine (5th edn) says that ‘The best of each are on the same level; the Sancerre perhaps slightly fuller and more obvious, the Pouilly-Fumé more perfumed.’ In complete contradiction Roger Voss’s Wines of the Loire, Alsace and the Rhone says of Pouilly-Fumé ‘the wines tend to be fuller, higher in alcohol, richer and longer lasting than white Sancerre, but sometimes lack the initial crisp fruit.’ So go figure. 2005 Domaine Daniel Crochet Sancerre (£10) is perhaps a more restrained, closed example of the style. Evident alcoholic heat on the nose, followed by white fruits and only faint hints of the grassy, herbaceous character of the grape. The palate is light bodied, with a hint of orange and decent acidity. The 2004 Domaine Cailbourdin Pouilly-Fumé ‘Les Cris’ (£9) on the other hand is a pungent bastard – celery salt, herbs, cut grass, tomato leaves, wet slate, gun smoke. ‘Acidy plant smell’ according to Neil. Palate follows in the extracted herbaceous vein, with citrus and mint in the mix, finishing with really high, persistent acid. Personally I preferred it over the Sancerre, but I was in the minority – the crowd generally preferred the more restrained Sancerre.
And finally in the white department a pair Chenin Blancs from Savennières. 2004 des Forges ‘Clos du Papillon’ (£11) I’ve already noted elsewhere, but was really showing at its best with its opulent honeycomb/chocolate nose, fat, floral, sandalwood palate and chalky finish. The 2004 Chateau Pierre-Bise ‘Clos de Coulaine’ (£10) was also impressive. Golden colour, nose of red apples, sandalwood and honey. The palate entry is slightly sweetish, with honeycomb and heather characters and finishing very dry with very high acid. Crowd reaction: bouquets.
The red bracket began with a Gamay – 2005 Domaine St Nicolas ‘Les Gammes en May’ (£7). I’ve tried this wine a few times now and I’m afraid I don’t like it. The colour is a bright lustrous purple, but the nose is brackish and dank. The palate is a bit tingly, with red cordial and boiled lolly characters, but these fade behind a bitter, green flinty character. Crowd reaction: If my pet made this smell I’d send it outside.
Then two jolly decent Cabernet Francs. The 2004 Domaine Wilfred Rousse Chinon 'Les Galuches' (£8) is mid red with a purple tinge. Nose is metallic (Cookie – ‘like staples’) with charcoal hints, blackcurrant, raisin and tomato leaves. The palate is supple and round, with soft ripe plums, jam, and cherry pie, with a tight minerally finish. Well structured. And the Domaine de la Cotellaraie I’ve already noted at the beginning of this post. Crowd reaction: varied, from ‘farts and poo’ through to ‘pretty promising, actually’.
Strictly this was supposed to be a Loire tasting, but I decided to throw in a few Merlot-based Bordeaux blends for variety’s sake and because you just can’t find that many interesting Loire reds in one’s local High Street retailer (and I’m not yet prolific enough to have Chateaux throw free wine at me for my opinion).
So, first was 2001 Chateau Barrabaque (Canon Fronsac) (£16). The nose is dominated by cedar wood and vanilla, with almost no fruit showing, and is far from integrated. The full bodied palate is still tight, finishing with ripe tannins. A few years yet before it will be showing at its best. This was followed by 2000 Chateau Franc La Rose (St Emilion) (£16), which was very promising on the nose – fruitcake, mint, generous dried fruits and beginning to integrate very well. Unfortunately the palate delivered less what the nose promised, and is ungenerously minerally, with river water streaks and even fish (Andrew). The 2003 Chateau Preuillac (Medoc Cru Bourgeois) (£13) was showing the best of the Bordeaux reds. Generous chocolate and coffee aromas, with a ripe palate of blackcurrant and black cherries and soft ripe tannins on the finish. Very 2003 with its amplified fruit and ‘baked’ character. Crowd reaction: flat patch bullies – Bordeaux will always taste superior when following Loire Cabernet Francs.
As has become my custom, we finished with a crowd pleasing sweet wine – 2003 Chateau Pierre-Bise Coteaux du Layon Beaulieu ‘Clos de la Soucherie’. Dried apples and honeycomb on the nose, palate is fresh but ultra-sweet, finishing dry and chalky.
Accordingly it is wise counsel for the amateur, if he doesn’t want to lie outright or attract the exhibitor's ire in the form of a glass to the face or a corkscrew to the bottom, to at least cloak his true opinion in apparently complimentary terms. I learnt this lesson very quickly after describing a 1991 Chateau Pichon Lalande as 'stinking like a public toilet' to one of the chateau's reps direct from France, and we all know how the Bordelais take such comments. I had to move hemispheres before I was able to blag my way back into a Bordeaux trade tasting, and have shut the hell up ever since. So when Cookie told me at yesterday’s Loire Valley tasting in our living room that the 2004 Domaine de la Cotellaraie St-Nicolas-de-Bourgueil (£8) ‘stank of farts and poo’ I quickly reminded her that in wine parlance we would prefer her to say it ‘had a wild, untamed earthy nose of barnyard and truffles’.
In the wine’s defence, the initial bottle stink went away after a couple of hours and in my opinion was one of the standouts of the tasting. The nose ended up developing a rich fruitcaky character, the palate following through with dried fruits, pepper and a ripe tannin finish.
Here are my notes for the rest of the stuff we tasted yesterday.
First a pair of Muscadets. 2005 Chais de la Grange Muscadet (£5) was pretty much par for the course – soft nose of white fruits, a little salty and yeasty, with a prickly finish on the tongue. Not at all interesting, but textbook in style. Ruth didn’t think it really smelt of anything, which is probably right. Beside it, a 2005 Le Vieux Chai Muscadet Sèvre et Maine ‘Sur Lie’ (£5), which was not showing at its best. Ruth noticed an unattractive, solvent/glue note on the nose – others thought it was like aniseed (Adam), pear drop ester (Andrew) and bananas (Bobby). Not particularly pleasant at all. Crowd reaction: boring.
Then a pair of Sauvignon Blancs – one Sancerre, one Pouilly-Fumé. Personally I’d like some definitive guidance on what the stylistic differences are between these two regions. The World Atlas of Wine (5th edn) says that ‘The best of each are on the same level; the Sancerre perhaps slightly fuller and more obvious, the Pouilly-Fumé more perfumed.’ In complete contradiction Roger Voss’s Wines of the Loire, Alsace and the Rhone says of Pouilly-Fumé ‘the wines tend to be fuller, higher in alcohol, richer and longer lasting than white Sancerre, but sometimes lack the initial crisp fruit.’ So go figure. 2005 Domaine Daniel Crochet Sancerre (£10) is perhaps a more restrained, closed example of the style. Evident alcoholic heat on the nose, followed by white fruits and only faint hints of the grassy, herbaceous character of the grape. The palate is light bodied, with a hint of orange and decent acidity. The 2004 Domaine Cailbourdin Pouilly-Fumé ‘Les Cris’ (£9) on the other hand is a pungent bastard – celery salt, herbs, cut grass, tomato leaves, wet slate, gun smoke. ‘Acidy plant smell’ according to Neil. Palate follows in the extracted herbaceous vein, with citrus and mint in the mix, finishing with really high, persistent acid. Personally I preferred it over the Sancerre, but I was in the minority – the crowd generally preferred the more restrained Sancerre.
And finally in the white department a pair Chenin Blancs from Savennières. 2004 des Forges ‘Clos du Papillon’ (£11) I’ve already noted elsewhere, but was really showing at its best with its opulent honeycomb/chocolate nose, fat, floral, sandalwood palate and chalky finish. The 2004 Chateau Pierre-Bise ‘Clos de Coulaine’ (£10) was also impressive. Golden colour, nose of red apples, sandalwood and honey. The palate entry is slightly sweetish, with honeycomb and heather characters and finishing very dry with very high acid. Crowd reaction: bouquets.
The red bracket began with a Gamay – 2005 Domaine St Nicolas ‘Les Gammes en May’ (£7). I’ve tried this wine a few times now and I’m afraid I don’t like it. The colour is a bright lustrous purple, but the nose is brackish and dank. The palate is a bit tingly, with red cordial and boiled lolly characters, but these fade behind a bitter, green flinty character. Crowd reaction: If my pet made this smell I’d send it outside.
Then two jolly decent Cabernet Francs. The 2004 Domaine Wilfred Rousse Chinon 'Les Galuches' (£8) is mid red with a purple tinge. Nose is metallic (Cookie – ‘like staples’) with charcoal hints, blackcurrant, raisin and tomato leaves. The palate is supple and round, with soft ripe plums, jam, and cherry pie, with a tight minerally finish. Well structured. And the Domaine de la Cotellaraie I’ve already noted at the beginning of this post. Crowd reaction: varied, from ‘farts and poo’ through to ‘pretty promising, actually’.
Strictly this was supposed to be a Loire tasting, but I decided to throw in a few Merlot-based Bordeaux blends for variety’s sake and because you just can’t find that many interesting Loire reds in one’s local High Street retailer (and I’m not yet prolific enough to have Chateaux throw free wine at me for my opinion).
So, first was 2001 Chateau Barrabaque (Canon Fronsac) (£16). The nose is dominated by cedar wood and vanilla, with almost no fruit showing, and is far from integrated. The full bodied palate is still tight, finishing with ripe tannins. A few years yet before it will be showing at its best. This was followed by 2000 Chateau Franc La Rose (St Emilion) (£16), which was very promising on the nose – fruitcake, mint, generous dried fruits and beginning to integrate very well. Unfortunately the palate delivered less what the nose promised, and is ungenerously minerally, with river water streaks and even fish (Andrew). The 2003 Chateau Preuillac (Medoc Cru Bourgeois) (£13) was showing the best of the Bordeaux reds. Generous chocolate and coffee aromas, with a ripe palate of blackcurrant and black cherries and soft ripe tannins on the finish. Very 2003 with its amplified fruit and ‘baked’ character. Crowd reaction: flat patch bullies – Bordeaux will always taste superior when following Loire Cabernet Francs.
As has become my custom, we finished with a crowd pleasing sweet wine – 2003 Chateau Pierre-Bise Coteaux du Layon Beaulieu ‘Clos de la Soucherie’. Dried apples and honeycomb on the nose, palate is fresh but ultra-sweet, finishing dry and chalky.
Saturday, 21 April 2007
Friday afternoon miscellany
Here are a few notes about what I’ve been drinking so far this weekend. I’m going up to my old college ball tonight, so unfortunately that means my Saturday drinking will consist entirely of seedy cocktails made from rotten fruit, cheap rum, and served in plastic cups. Nevertheless, this small Friday afternoon bracket more than makes up for what I will have to deal with this evening.
2003 Amayna Chardonnay (San Antonio Valley, Chile, £17)
When as a kid we used to go on long driving holidays through places like Gundagai, we used to stay at country town Motor Inns – the sort of place that boasted having ‘COLOUR TV’ as one of the facilities. The breakfast menus at these places used to offer, quite incredulously, ‘Compote of Fruit’, which was code for an ungenerous spoonful of tinned fruit salad with little cubes of some sort of yellow fruit (peach?) some sort of white fruit (pear?) and cherries, coated in thick syrup. Back then I thought this was the poshest thing in the world (I was probably 4 at the time). I was devastated when I eventually learned that ‘compote’ is a legitimate culinary term that should evoke orchard-fresh fruit lovingly combined with sugar and spice and all things nice and slowly reduced in a copper pot atop an environmentally unfriendly Aga in the kitchen of a 17th century stone cottage, that had been fraudulently deployed when used to describe fruit salad ladled out of a 5 litre tin by a stinking man in a wife beater. Anyway, this wine has a weirdly fruity nose of rhubarb and cream, toasted marshmallows, and – there it was on sniff number 3 – Gundagai Motor Inn Compote of Fruit. Then there are aromas of baked fruit – possibly even a caramelised apple/tarte tatin character. Only when you taste it do you realise it is an alcoholic beverage (very much so at 14.5%) – with a fleshy palate, bordering on the flabby. Yes, it does taste like a Chardonnay (and a good and interesting one) but to my mind not acidic enough to deal with the Golden Circle train wreck that is the wine’s opening gambit.
2005 Jean Daneel Signature Chenin Blanc (Stellenbosch, South Africa, £17)
Now I’m not the world’s biggest fan of either Chenin Blanc or South African wine, but I do like this (indeed I’ve liked the vast majority of Jean Daneel wines I’ve tried), and it is allegedly the best Chenin produced in South Africa. Nose of butter and caramel, with dried apples in the background and that characteristic South African pong (which, in fairness, is very faint and you only notice on the first sniff). The palate is ripe and full, with caramel, apricots, viscous melons and butter, and a searing acid finish leaving a hint of caramel behind it. It is, however, a very attention-seeking wine (at 15% alcohol), made almost as if it’s there to prove a point, and you do have to concentrate very hard on it. I’m not sure I could drink this wine and hold a conversation with someone at the same time.
2004 Jean Luc Colombo Crozes Hermitage ‘La Tuilière’ (£12)
This is the third Jean Luc Colombo wine I’ve tried in the last week or so, and although they are all quite good wines the opinion I’ve formed is that they’re rather characterless. The white Cotes du Rhone is quite didactic in the way it sets out benchmark viognier characters. ‘Benchmark’ is one of these words that looks like a compliment when it isn’t one. Although the initial sentiment is that it is something by which others are judged, the implicit sentiment is that one is always hoping to come across something better. Just as the Cotes du Rhone was benchmark viognier, this was benchmark Crozes Hermitage. Nose of white pepper, and forward red fruit, perhaps even a little confected. The palate leads with black peppercorns and straight forward, clean red fruit. Well made, but ultimately not a wine for showing off. The sort of wine that could fairly be included in a blind tasting match, but that you just don’t get that excited about having a second glass of.
2001 Marchesi de Frescobaldi Castel Giocondo Brunello di Montalcino (£30)
This was presented to me blind, and to think that Marc quibbled with my identification of it as being a Tuscan Sangiovese. Is Brunello not another word for Sangiovese? Can anyone tell me definitively whether these are merely synonyms, or if there is actually a botanical difference between Brunello and Sangiovese? Anyway, that’s beside the point. The wine is a lustrous red. A nose of cherries, chocolate, fragrant lavender, anise, and a hint of cedarwood. The palate is less complex than the nose might lead you to expect, but is big and full, fruit driven and chocolatey, finishing with full, ripe tannins. A really impressive wine.
But my favourite wine of the day was the second Tuscan Sangiovese I tried, a 1999 Le Fioraie Chianti Classico. Perhaps I was just a bit excited that I had bought some bottles for £10 each, a substantial discount from its usual price, or that maybe I just like a mature old-style Chianti Classico, but it was just lovely. Subtly perfumed nose of dried and fresh cherries. Smooth, full palate, creamy, with cherry liqueur and a slight charry/cigarry dimension, supported by supple fruit and ripe tannins. My flatmate Andy said it reminded him of those little ‘Campino’ strawberries-and-cream lollies you can get on the continent, and I think he’s exactly right. It’s probably at the peak of its maturity now, and even after being open for about two hours it began to turn a little sour, so drink up now.
2003 Amayna Chardonnay (San Antonio Valley, Chile, £17)
When as a kid we used to go on long driving holidays through places like Gundagai, we used to stay at country town Motor Inns – the sort of place that boasted having ‘COLOUR TV’ as one of the facilities. The breakfast menus at these places used to offer, quite incredulously, ‘Compote of Fruit’, which was code for an ungenerous spoonful of tinned fruit salad with little cubes of some sort of yellow fruit (peach?) some sort of white fruit (pear?) and cherries, coated in thick syrup. Back then I thought this was the poshest thing in the world (I was probably 4 at the time). I was devastated when I eventually learned that ‘compote’ is a legitimate culinary term that should evoke orchard-fresh fruit lovingly combined with sugar and spice and all things nice and slowly reduced in a copper pot atop an environmentally unfriendly Aga in the kitchen of a 17th century stone cottage, that had been fraudulently deployed when used to describe fruit salad ladled out of a 5 litre tin by a stinking man in a wife beater. Anyway, this wine has a weirdly fruity nose of rhubarb and cream, toasted marshmallows, and – there it was on sniff number 3 – Gundagai Motor Inn Compote of Fruit. Then there are aromas of baked fruit – possibly even a caramelised apple/tarte tatin character. Only when you taste it do you realise it is an alcoholic beverage (very much so at 14.5%) – with a fleshy palate, bordering on the flabby. Yes, it does taste like a Chardonnay (and a good and interesting one) but to my mind not acidic enough to deal with the Golden Circle train wreck that is the wine’s opening gambit.
2005 Jean Daneel Signature Chenin Blanc (Stellenbosch, South Africa, £17)
Now I’m not the world’s biggest fan of either Chenin Blanc or South African wine, but I do like this (indeed I’ve liked the vast majority of Jean Daneel wines I’ve tried), and it is allegedly the best Chenin produced in South Africa. Nose of butter and caramel, with dried apples in the background and that characteristic South African pong (which, in fairness, is very faint and you only notice on the first sniff). The palate is ripe and full, with caramel, apricots, viscous melons and butter, and a searing acid finish leaving a hint of caramel behind it. It is, however, a very attention-seeking wine (at 15% alcohol), made almost as if it’s there to prove a point, and you do have to concentrate very hard on it. I’m not sure I could drink this wine and hold a conversation with someone at the same time.
2004 Jean Luc Colombo Crozes Hermitage ‘La Tuilière’ (£12)
This is the third Jean Luc Colombo wine I’ve tried in the last week or so, and although they are all quite good wines the opinion I’ve formed is that they’re rather characterless. The white Cotes du Rhone is quite didactic in the way it sets out benchmark viognier characters. ‘Benchmark’ is one of these words that looks like a compliment when it isn’t one. Although the initial sentiment is that it is something by which others are judged, the implicit sentiment is that one is always hoping to come across something better. Just as the Cotes du Rhone was benchmark viognier, this was benchmark Crozes Hermitage. Nose of white pepper, and forward red fruit, perhaps even a little confected. The palate leads with black peppercorns and straight forward, clean red fruit. Well made, but ultimately not a wine for showing off. The sort of wine that could fairly be included in a blind tasting match, but that you just don’t get that excited about having a second glass of.
2001 Marchesi de Frescobaldi Castel Giocondo Brunello di Montalcino (£30)
This was presented to me blind, and to think that Marc quibbled with my identification of it as being a Tuscan Sangiovese. Is Brunello not another word for Sangiovese? Can anyone tell me definitively whether these are merely synonyms, or if there is actually a botanical difference between Brunello and Sangiovese? Anyway, that’s beside the point. The wine is a lustrous red. A nose of cherries, chocolate, fragrant lavender, anise, and a hint of cedarwood. The palate is less complex than the nose might lead you to expect, but is big and full, fruit driven and chocolatey, finishing with full, ripe tannins. A really impressive wine.
But my favourite wine of the day was the second Tuscan Sangiovese I tried, a 1999 Le Fioraie Chianti Classico. Perhaps I was just a bit excited that I had bought some bottles for £10 each, a substantial discount from its usual price, or that maybe I just like a mature old-style Chianti Classico, but it was just lovely. Subtly perfumed nose of dried and fresh cherries. Smooth, full palate, creamy, with cherry liqueur and a slight charry/cigarry dimension, supported by supple fruit and ripe tannins. My flatmate Andy said it reminded him of those little ‘Campino’ strawberries-and-cream lollies you can get on the continent, and I think he’s exactly right. It’s probably at the peak of its maturity now, and even after being open for about two hours it began to turn a little sour, so drink up now.
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