Blind tasting, of course!
Given the weather, everybody brought red. It reminds me of this passage in Ant and Bee Go Shopping by Angela Banner, where Ant and Bee and Kind Dog all go shopping to buy cakes, chocolate and fruit for a dinner party (and people wonder why all the English are pasty and pimply when they drum this sort of stuff into kids... It's almost as bad as the Bible...) After buying various cakes (Ant buys a round and flat cake, Bee buys a square and fat cake, Kind Dog buys a round and fat and square and flat cake made especially for dogs) and chocolates (Ant buys a chocolate mountain, Bee buys chocolate beans and Kind Dog buys a chocolate bone made especially for dogs [he he, chocolate bone – sounds like a dirty sexual position, like the Filthy Sanchez, or the Hot Lunch]), they end up buying fruit, and “they ALL bought plums”. (Angela must have been sick of the repetition of the “Ant bought X, Bee bought Y and Kind Dog bought Z made especially for dogs” formula. Repetitive, I’ll grant you, but not as bad as Alan Ginsberg’s Howl).
So, anyway, my birthday lunch: they ALL brought reds.
But who am I to complain – they were yummy. And here they are.
2003 Domaine Leon Vatan Sancerre Rouge “Les Pains Benis”
Brought by Justin, and prefaced with the comment “this is advanced blind tasting – but you should be able to get it”. I hate these prefaces (although I must admit I’m guilty of indulging in them myself) – they make one second guess oneself. Translucent mid red. Confected, jammy red fruits on the nose, it couldn’t really be anything but pinot noir (which of course it was). A hint of tomato leaf vegetation suggested its origin, although I wasn’t clever enough to pick up on it. Janet and I had it in Oregon, Sarah as Nuits St Georges, but there you go, Red Sancerre, who would have thought? And a nice one too – by no means mean, as I often find them.
1996 Mount Langhi Ghiran Langi Shiraz (Grampians)
Brought by me (as a result of the remainder of my wine collection finally being shipped over from Australia). This is a fantastic wine – my favourite of the day. Still deep red. Extremely savoury, peppery and meaty, with lush fruit, bell pepper and spicy oak underneath. Excellent balance. Everyone had it in the Northern Rhone (I can die a happy man now that I’ve convinced Oxford blind tasters that restrained, savoury wine does exist in Australia). A star. My great mate Nick Hildebrandt says he “doesn’t know what all the fuss is about” in relation to Mount Langhi (or at least he did in 2001) – but after 11 years it’s fantastic.
1996 Fojo (Douro Valley)
Brought by Sarah. I think I’ve noted this elsewhere. Perhaps unfortunately I had served the meal at this stage – a lamb and date tagine – and against the fruitiness of the dish it was rather thin. Shame really, it didn’t do this great wine justice.
1982 Chateau Bellegrave (Moulis en Medoc)
Brought by Janet. Classic claret, rusty rim. Clay minerality on the nose, showing developed cigar box and smoke on the nose, still presenting youthfully on the nose with underlying blackcurrant fruit, and very full, but with a distinct lack of fruit on the palate in favour of smoke and slate. I had it in St Estephe, and as young as 1996, but there you go. A delight.
1997 Cullen Cabernet Merlot (Margaret River)
Brought by me. Another triumph for the “oh my God it’s Australian” reaction. Dark red with a brick rim. Prune, dark chocolate, liquorice, tobacco, jam, dried fruits, cassis – very powerful. Meat and marmite, with a seductive bass-baritone weight. Janet’s favourite of the day – “when you’re on your third line of adjectives, you know it’s good”, she said.
1996 Chateau d’Armailhac (Pauillac)
Brought by me. “All right, so tell us where in Australia this one is from” said Sarah, rolling her eyes. Of course I wasn’t going to serve three Australian wines in a row, but what a reaction for serving classed growth Bordeaux! Everyone was pissed by this stage and had given up caring, but I thought it was bloody lovely. Deep red – dark fruit nose, crème de cassis, cherry, mint. Inky. Still tight, the highly integrated palate shows plum and a hint of cinnamon spice, with nervous tannin. Will keep for some years yet. Great stuff.
Showing posts with label pauillac. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pauillac. Show all posts
Thursday, 20 December 2007
Sunday, 20 May 2007
Classed Growth Bordeaux blind tasting
I love red Bordeaux – it’s the answer I give when people ask me the unanswerable question “what is your favourite wine?” simply so that I don’t have to give a long-winded explanation to someone who probably doesn’t care and was only being polite. (Anyone who does care would probably ask a better question). But I learnt two things at a tasting of classed growth Bordeaux on Saturday.
First, when you get a good Bordeaux in a lineup of random wines (of equivalent quality, let’s say), it sits head and shoulders above the others in terms of its attraction, and it becomes very easy to label it ‘beautiful’ or ‘classic’. But when you try a lineup of good Bordeaux against each other, one’s critical faculties come to the fore, and no wine seems good enough for approval, when under any other conditions, any of them would probably emerge the favourite. I was really disappointed that in yesterday’s lineup of 6 wines, I only really liked one or two of them. But I bet that if any of them had been presented on its own or in a lineup of other wines I would have been making all the right noises about it. Lesson: don’t drink a lineup of just classed growth Bordeaux if you want to cream your pants over every sip.
Second, when I try a glass of Bordeaux on its own, I always struggle to find more than a few generic descriptors for the wine – blackcurrants, cedar, mint, tobacco. But when I try a lineup of all Bordeaux, a whole spectrum of flavours appears that is much wider than I would have expected, and includes flavours that I would never even expect to find in Bordeaux let alone in such abundance. Turns out the people from Berry’s aren’t bullshitting me in their daily emails encouraging me to purchase wine I couldn’t afford in my wildest dreams. Lesson: if you want to expose the variety of Bordeaux, drink it in a lineup of Bordeaux. Why must the lessons conflict?
Anyway, here are my notes for the wines tasted.
1995 Chateau Lagrange (St Julien)
Mid red, with a brickish rim. Nose shows mint, river pebbles, blackcurrants, mulberry leaves. The palate is on the thin side, to be perfectly honest, with a little too much acid for my liking and almost no tannin at all, and slightly sour on the finish compared with the others. Fully developed, I don’t think it will improve greatly from now on.
1998 Chateau Langoa Barton (St Julien)
Dark red-purple. The nose is fairly closed and restrained, but what does emerge is quite fragrant – perfumed sour cherries. The palate has a more cedary edge to it and is rather green but finishing with fine tannins. To be honest, neither of the two St Juliens excited me that much, despite having been impressed on previous occasions by the same wines on their own.
1995 Chateau d’Armailhac (Pauillac)
The two Pauillacs were the two that most obviously reflected their terroir, and this one was the most classic of the wines tasted. Nose of cedarwood, blackcurrants and tobacco, the palate is plummy with violets and a minerally streak to it, finishing with medium tannins. All elements well integrated and mature, and showing some complexity.
1999 Chateau d’Armailhac (Pauillac)
The general consensus was that this was the favourite wine of the afternoon, and I agree. Mid-red in colour, with an opulent nose of ground coffee, chocolate and cigar-box aromas. The palate is supple and concentrated, with ripe red fruit and finishing with mouth-coating, persistent tannins. Well proportioned and will continue to improve in years to come.
1995 Chateau Haut-Bailly (Pessac Leognan)
Nobody could believe this was a 1995 – still an incredibly youthful wine, and built to last. The other interesting thing is that the half of us that didn’t think it was Pessac, thought it was St Estephe, such was the minerality of the wine and the power of the tannins. But wrong we were, and to my mind it is interesting that so many people were wrong in the same way given how remotely different the two communes are. Anyway the nose is minerally, with loads of slate, river water and wet pebbles, with ink and green capsicum too. The palate is forward with loads of ripe fruit and mint, with a long finish with very firm, drying tannins. Powerful.
2002 Domaine de Chevalier (Pessac Leognan)
Mid-red, nose of caramel, rhubarb and cream, boiled cherries and mulberry leaves. The palate is restrained and a bit green, with oak that is a far way from being integrated. A few years yet before it is ready.
We joined a party at a Lebanese restaurant after the tasting. Naturally the only thing on the wine list there was Chateau Musar, so we had a bottle of the 1997 with our meal, which I suppose is worth noting. Translucent red (but throwing a massive deposit), nose of raisins, spices and dried fruit. Palate is relatively light, and forwardly fruity with bright acid, but almost no trace of tannin on the finish.
First, when you get a good Bordeaux in a lineup of random wines (of equivalent quality, let’s say), it sits head and shoulders above the others in terms of its attraction, and it becomes very easy to label it ‘beautiful’ or ‘classic’. But when you try a lineup of good Bordeaux against each other, one’s critical faculties come to the fore, and no wine seems good enough for approval, when under any other conditions, any of them would probably emerge the favourite. I was really disappointed that in yesterday’s lineup of 6 wines, I only really liked one or two of them. But I bet that if any of them had been presented on its own or in a lineup of other wines I would have been making all the right noises about it. Lesson: don’t drink a lineup of just classed growth Bordeaux if you want to cream your pants over every sip.
Second, when I try a glass of Bordeaux on its own, I always struggle to find more than a few generic descriptors for the wine – blackcurrants, cedar, mint, tobacco. But when I try a lineup of all Bordeaux, a whole spectrum of flavours appears that is much wider than I would have expected, and includes flavours that I would never even expect to find in Bordeaux let alone in such abundance. Turns out the people from Berry’s aren’t bullshitting me in their daily emails encouraging me to purchase wine I couldn’t afford in my wildest dreams. Lesson: if you want to expose the variety of Bordeaux, drink it in a lineup of Bordeaux. Why must the lessons conflict?
Anyway, here are my notes for the wines tasted.
1995 Chateau Lagrange (St Julien)
Mid red, with a brickish rim. Nose shows mint, river pebbles, blackcurrants, mulberry leaves. The palate is on the thin side, to be perfectly honest, with a little too much acid for my liking and almost no tannin at all, and slightly sour on the finish compared with the others. Fully developed, I don’t think it will improve greatly from now on.
1998 Chateau Langoa Barton (St Julien)
Dark red-purple. The nose is fairly closed and restrained, but what does emerge is quite fragrant – perfumed sour cherries. The palate has a more cedary edge to it and is rather green but finishing with fine tannins. To be honest, neither of the two St Juliens excited me that much, despite having been impressed on previous occasions by the same wines on their own.
1995 Chateau d’Armailhac (Pauillac)
The two Pauillacs were the two that most obviously reflected their terroir, and this one was the most classic of the wines tasted. Nose of cedarwood, blackcurrants and tobacco, the palate is plummy with violets and a minerally streak to it, finishing with medium tannins. All elements well integrated and mature, and showing some complexity.
1999 Chateau d’Armailhac (Pauillac)
The general consensus was that this was the favourite wine of the afternoon, and I agree. Mid-red in colour, with an opulent nose of ground coffee, chocolate and cigar-box aromas. The palate is supple and concentrated, with ripe red fruit and finishing with mouth-coating, persistent tannins. Well proportioned and will continue to improve in years to come.
1995 Chateau Haut-Bailly (Pessac Leognan)
Nobody could believe this was a 1995 – still an incredibly youthful wine, and built to last. The other interesting thing is that the half of us that didn’t think it was Pessac, thought it was St Estephe, such was the minerality of the wine and the power of the tannins. But wrong we were, and to my mind it is interesting that so many people were wrong in the same way given how remotely different the two communes are. Anyway the nose is minerally, with loads of slate, river water and wet pebbles, with ink and green capsicum too. The palate is forward with loads of ripe fruit and mint, with a long finish with very firm, drying tannins. Powerful.
2002 Domaine de Chevalier (Pessac Leognan)
Mid-red, nose of caramel, rhubarb and cream, boiled cherries and mulberry leaves. The palate is restrained and a bit green, with oak that is a far way from being integrated. A few years yet before it is ready.
We joined a party at a Lebanese restaurant after the tasting. Naturally the only thing on the wine list there was Chateau Musar, so we had a bottle of the 1997 with our meal, which I suppose is worth noting. Translucent red (but throwing a massive deposit), nose of raisins, spices and dried fruit. Palate is relatively light, and forwardly fruity with bright acid, but almost no trace of tannin on the finish.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)