Wojciech Bońkowski
Master of Wine

Nicolas Jaboulet Saint-Joseph 2007

I need to drink more French wines. I want to drink more French wines. Every time I do, I’m fascinated by their world of flavours and cultural context. For example, I very rarely drink Syrah from the Northern Rhône. Upon a recent visit to the excellent Aux Fins Gourmets shop near Wiesbaden, I asked owner Mathias Hilse to recommend a good-value Syrah. He came up with this wine from an exciting new venture by Nicolas Jaboulet (until recently owner of the Paul Jaboulet Aîné négociant house, before it was sold in 2006) and the Perrin family of Château de Beaucastel fame. With such drivers behind the wheel, this new estate surely looks very promising. (The website is here).
Jaboulet and Perrin operate as a ‘boutique négociant’: there are no own vineyards and the cellar space is at Beaucastel. Single barrels of good Northern Rhône wines are purchased from top growers in the region, and Jaboulet is overseeing the élevage.

So how is this Saint-Joseph 2007 showing? From a good vintage, this is drinking nicely now, though a year or two more in bottle will do no harm. What’s really exciting here is the typicity – this is Northern Syrah at its most recognisable, with a mildly flowery, raspberryish nose, high acidity, tight tannins, and an almost Burgundian sense of refreshment to it. There’s indeed quite a bit of Pinot Noir/Gamay character in this wine. It made me think of old books about the Rhône Valley where Syrah from Côte-Rôtie and other appellations here was often defined as the southern outpost of Burgundian-styled wine (as opposed to the fully Mediterranean Syrahs further down south). Back in the 1970s and 1980s, many wines had to be chaptalised here to ever reach 12,5% alc. These times seem as distant as the Hundred Years’ War now: Côte-Rôtie has become full of 14% Parkerized blockbusters. While vinified in a modern way, this Saint-Joseph captures the northern zest well.

I feel a bit ambiguous about it, though. It’s really a rather simple wine, with not a mass of dimension (interestingly it got a lowish 14/20 from Bettane & Desseauve), and the asking price of 18€ seems a bit steep: you’re surely paying a premium for the Jaboulet and Perrin names on the label. For what is a middle-class (though ambitious) appellation, it’s a bit disturbing to see an entry-level wine like this priced so high. On the other hand, the winemaking here is brilliant: there’s not a milligram of oak noticeable in the flavour, and the wine is perfectly balanced with finely gauged acids and tannins. The quality of the latter is top-notch. In the end I enjoyed this quite a bit, but I need to start saving for this producer’s Hermitage which nears 50€ per bottle.

Two big wines from Clos du Gravillas

To Minervois or not to Minervois?

Two interesting bottles from the Clos du Gravillas estate in the Languedoc. Vintners Nicole and John Bojanowski (as you can see from the name, there’s even a Polish connection) are known to wine geeks as patient champions of the Carignan grape. They even established the Carignan Renaissance association to help the rebirth of this quintessential Mediterranean grape.

It’ll be a tough job. No other grape has been denigrated so much in the last few decades. In France, authorities to their utmost to get rid of Carignan wherever they can. You can cash in thousands of €€ just by uprooting Carignan vineyards, no matter how good the wine they produce. In the variety’s traditional stronghold, the Languedoc, every single AOC appellation has a maximum limit of this grape in the blend (usually 40%; 50% in Corbières; the backwater AOC of Fitou is an honourable exception in requiring a minimum of 30% Carignan).

Until recently, Carignan was charged with all possible crimes. It was deemed responsible for the major wine glut of the Languedoc – whereas the real culprit were the heroic yields to which this flexible grape was harnessed (300 hl/ha was, apparently, far from being the record). Carignan was alleged to be a ‘rustic’ grape, unsuitable for ‘modern’ viticulture (read: mechanical harvesting) and its wines unappealing to ‘contemporary’ tastes (read: too acidic). It was also judged a ‘clonal disaster’ (but why did you ask nurseries for high-yielding clones back in the 1970s?).

The slow change in Carignan appreciation we currently witness is partly the merit of growers like the Bojanowskis who show the potential of the grape with low yields and old vines (these can run up to a 120 years in places), and partly that of the wine zone of Priorat in Catalonia. Here, schistous soils, high elevations and a semi-Mediterranean climate results in some stunningly rich wines that have been making the headlines for a decade now. While the early successes of Priorat were based on the Garnatxa (Grenache) grape, there’s an increasing interest in the local Carinyena (Carignan), which helps to balanced Garnatxa’s sexiness with some meaty spice and minerality; Carinyena-dominated wines such as Cims de Porrera, Clos Martinet and Vall-Llach are among the most exciting not only of Catalonia but of entire southern Europe. With such stunning wines being made with Carignan, it’s no wonder producers all around the huge crescent of Mediterranean land that was once ruled by Aragon (from Valencia to Sardinia) where Carignan was the dominating variety are starting to pay much more attention to its potential.

If you look at it, Carignan is remarkably well-adapted to the various terroirs of southern France and north-eastern Spain. It ripens late so can be cultivated even in the hottest vineyards of Priorat and Collioure, yet buds late too so you can plant it fairly high without fearing for spring frosts (Priorat has plantings up to 900 m). While the new clones can yield generously resulting in pale diluted wines, with a bit of discipline and well-drained soils the grape is capable of great concentration (more so than Grenache, I think). It has a very deep colour (even more so than Syrah; in fact, it’s been used for years as a colouring ingredient in blends) that is very stable over time (unlike Cinsault, the ‘other’ traditional variety of the Languedoc that loses colours quickly). It’s also usefully high in acidity and very resistant to oxidation (unlike Grenache); it actually has a tendency towards reduction, producing (courtesy of brett, more often than note) the meaty, barnyardy bouquets that earned it the adjective of ‘rustic’.

Nicole and John Bojanowski pruning the old vineyards. © Clos du Gravillas.

Clos du Gravillas’ best expression of Carignan is Lo Vièlh from vines planted in 1911, 1952 and 1970. In the 2005 vintage it’s a wine of considerable density and concentration. There’s an obvious whiff of sausagey animality but this easily blows off with 15 minutes’ airing (always recommended with Carignan, at any price level). Apart from decanting, I also recommend chilling slightly (16C is a good idea), as this tends to help the fruit on which this wine is not particularly high. It’s hardly a very deep or elegant red, but has a sense of natural power and vigour about it. The old vines are also showing in a crisp, perfectly integrated acidity and juicy, earthy tannins (there’s been some oak here but thankfully, it hasn’t obliterated this natural tannic expression). Good minerality, too. I don’t think it’s a wine most drinkers would qualify of ‘great’ (whatever your definition of the term is), but it’s authentic and has a story to tell. I’d be curious to see how it ages: it has plenty of content but not so much fruit.

Lo Vièlh is Clos du Gravillas’ top red (they also make a great job in the lighter bottlings); the top white is L’Inattendu. This wine, produced since 1999, was one of the first varietal versions (now there are far more) of Grenache Gris, one of several natural clones of the Grenache family: a pink-skinned version that’s traditionally been used to add fruit to oxidative sweet wines like Banyuls, or finesse to dry reds. It packs in a lot of punch and the 14% alcohol here can be considered a relatively light rendition.

If you’re thinking of Languedoc as a land of bland apéritif whites made from Clairette or, worse, Chardonnay, the L’Inattendu 2007 will come as a shock. It’s a very structured, brutally mineral wine that’s positively anti-aperitifey. Aromatically a bit challenging (ranging from fallen apple through onion to white pepper), it explodes on the palate with saline sappiness and rocky austerity. I think this sees new oak but there’s so much power to these grapes that they’ve eaten it all. It’s bone-dry, broad-shouldered but not exactly rich; a sort of sturdy, no-nonsense, caloric white wine that makes me think of lonely shepherds in the mountains having a cup of wine on a chilly August evening. If you’re not up in the mountains lonely, I’d serve this with food, although finding a good match will not be easy: the Bojanowskis suggest anchovies (notoriously difficult to pair with), I’d try salted cod or perhaps, simply, a slab of hearty pain de campagne with salted goat butter… It’s another wine I’d love to try at age 10 but with a few thousand bottles made each year, my chances are low.

The green fellow’s nice but look at the terroir underneath… © Clos du Gravillas.

It’s sadly representative of the French appellation system’s absurdities that L’Inattendu is now an AOC Minervois (before, Grenache Gris was not recognised so it was a Côtes de Brian vin de pays) while Lo Vièlh is denied the AOC (which apart from the 40% Carignan cap, requires a minimum of two grapes to be used) even though the vines were producing Minervois wine some decades before the AOC was born in the brains of technocrats. But that’s a parenthesis. If anything with the Gravillas name makes it your way, be sure to check it out: these are very interesting and engagingly authentic wines.

Anniversary wines

Sky is the limit

We’ve had an important anniversary in the family, and it was time to bring some really big guns from the cellar. I’ve poured some of the oldest wines in my collection. You don’t drink a bottle from 1938 every weekend.

It was the sort of event that takes weeks if not months of planning. Browsing internet wine shops, enquiring for offers, searching for tasting notes. Pondering a dinner menu, thinking of food & wine matches. Planning a proper ‘trajectory’ for the event. Alternative scenarios, ‘B’ plans (old bottles are often faulty). In the end I’m happy with how smoothly it went. With some helping hands in the kitchen I managed to serve 12 courses with matching wines to a party of 10, steering clear of major disasters. And it all took short of 9 hours.

I’ll spare you a description of the food – reading about bisques, soufflés and chocolates on a blog always sounds a little over-indulgent and of little usefulness – and share a few tasting notes.

Domaine Vacheron Sancerre 2006
This wasn’t served to guests – it was the cook’s aperitif. It’s quite ripe for a Loire Sauvignon, with subdued acidity but an obvious mineral character. A classy wine, though not a monster of expression. But I prefer Vacheron’s clean style in a less ripe vintage.

Pol Roger Cuvée Sir Winston Churchill 1993
A gift from the maison that I’ve cellared since 2003. 1993 was a structured vintage, but never great and now largely overshadowed by the likes of 1996. Yet top cuvées from 1993 are now in top shape – this Churchill surely is. Outstanding from the first to the last drop (not that it lasted long). Fresh, unevolved, poised and mineral. There is some underlying sweetness of dosage but also good vinosity and juiciness. The flavour is very fused, and it’s difficult to give a detailed analysis: perhaps a bit of raspberry atop the more usual notes of brioche and vanilla. Still very young – this can go on for another decade or two. Brilliant wine.
We’ve also had some other champagnes including a crisp, engaging Brut Réserve Rosée (two years since dégorgement) from
Philipponnat, whom I find very much on the upswing of late.

Perrier-Jouët Blason de France 1959
I got this bottle from the
Barolo–Brunello shop in Germany. The level was a little low and there was some heavy sediment so I knew the risk (and the very amiable owner Stefan Töpler made it clear). Such old bottles are always a hazard. Here, the cork was completely loose and the wine awfully oxidised with no bubbles. Oh well.

Domdechant Hochheimer Domdechaney
Riesling Spätlese 1983

I visited this estate on the Main near Frankfurt in April 2005, and we’ve had a great conversation with owner Dr. Franz Werner Michel. At lunch, this 1983 was served, and enhanced by Michel’s engaging stories, it tasted as good as any mature Riesling ever did. Upon saying our goodbyes we were offered a bottle each of the same wine. As usually with precious wines, it was waiting in my cellar for an ‘occasion’. A very mature wine, with some storage problems perhaps (cork was completely soaked) showing in a musty, unclean nose, though underneath there is some good Firne [aged Riesling] character. Sweeter than expected on the palate, but there is also a greenness to the sweetness and acidity. This bottle showed a bit unremarkable but was surely short of perfectly stored.

Jean-Marc Brocard
Chablis Grand Cru Bougros 1998
As expected from the youngest wine of the afternoon, no problems whatsoever with this bottle. It was part of a mixed case of older vintages I bought at the estate last October. It’s only 35€ – a bargain for a grand cru of any age, let alone a decade old. When tasted in Chablis, it showed very good saline minerality but also quite some oak sweetness. Yet served with food (a saffron-flavoured poule à la crème), the oak disappeared almost completely. It was a lesson in real-life food & wine matching. Crisp, linear, mineral, statuesque almost, showing power and reserve. An excellent wine. Dregs retasted the day after were less exciting, less poised, built around the butter and vanilla I remembered from October. Not bad at all on a hedonistic level though.

Domaine Huët
Vouvray Le Haut-Lieu demi-sec 1961
I got this bottle a couple of years ago from the excellent
Bacchus Vinothek in Germany. The price seemed low (50€), and these Vouvrays are known for their ageing potential so I took the plunge. Looking at the intact label and the immaculate cork it’s clear this bottle was at best recorked (and likely refilled?), and at worst it’s not a 1961 at all. It’s an excellent aged Vouvray but it really tastes too young and dynamic to be 48 years old. The colour is also a bit suspect, with green tinges (unlikely in a wine of this age?) to a medium golden whole:

Aromatically it’s dominated by a taut, austere reductive character: not quite stinky but very herby and hayey, with a bit of richness that reminded me of an old Tokaj. On the palate it is very structured with mouth-puckering acidity effectively covering the sweetness, although the demi-sec character is quite pronounced for a wine of this alleged age. There’s also some alcohol (only 12% on the label). A big, structured wine that’s fairly immobile and could easily survive another decade. If you don’t need it to be a genuine 1961 it’s a very fine bottle for the money.

Thierry Allemand Cornas Chaillot 1996
A bin-end from Vienna’s Unger & Klein, sold at 32€ instead of the more usual 60€. Deepish colour especially at core, for the age. It starts fairly barnyardy and reduced on the nose but fortunately isn’t bretty, and with some proper airing this blows off, revealing a fairly engaging nose of crushed raspberries and good vinous depth. Some mild age on the palate but this is far from old. Palate on entry is also pleasant: vaguely varietal and peppery, but the progression is highly disappointing. Basically this just weakens and disappears on the palate. No structure whatsoever: modest acidity (though enough for freshness) and no tannins. There’s a beguiling purity about the whole thing and I can’t say it’s uninteresting but I wouldn’t pay the normal price for it. Perhaps the vintage’s lowly reputation in the northern Rhône is justified after all.

Cosimo Taurino Brindisi Riserva Patriglione 1975
This was another bin-end from a German shop, so obscure they didn’t even know how to price it. Eventually I got away with 35€. In its recent vintages it’s a southern Italian classic I very much enjoy, essentially a modified Salice Salentino (based on the Negroamaro grape) made with an amarone-like technique of drying the grapes to raisins. Fill level is quite and the cork is excellent (certainly recorked) but storage is an issue, as the wine is showing very aged. There’s a leathery, cooked-fruity, vinegary, almost maderised character that some of my diners disliked, though with a bit more experience in Apulian wines I find it fairly typical. This has aged on acidity (and some greenness) but lacks superior dimension or definition. On the other hand a Brindisi red at age 33 in this shape is surely not a bad achievement.

Giacomo Borgogno & Figli Barolo Riserva 1947
It’s another
Barolo–Brunello bottle from Stefan Töpler. I paid 149€ for it and whenever I can justify the expense again, I’ll be sure to order some more – an outstanding bottle of wine.
I have had numerous older Barolos from the house of Borgogno, including a fantastically refined 1958, an impressive, brooding 1961 and a gentler 1967. But all came from the producer’s cellar, and were all opened and checked for faults, then refilled with the same wine, recorked and relabelled. Basically you get a Borgogno guarantee that the wine is in good shape. This makes the producer’s prices (the 1961 was 105€ a year ago) even more of a ridiculous bargain.

This bottle was different in that it came from a private cellar and was not refurbished. I can’t tell you much about the cork as at my first attempt to pull it out (with a 2-blade opener instead of a corkscrew) it smoothly dived inside the bottle. But the wine was in fine condition and I must congratulate Mr. Töpler for his sourcing. It’s rare to find wines in such pristine shape even from the 1960s. A moderate amount (i.e., little for the age) of fine-ish sediment. The colour is not bad, surely quite evolved but actually a fairly poetic complex hue ranging from clean ruby at core to amaranth-orange:The one disappointing thing here is the nose. I usually enjoy Barolo as much for its fantastically floral, deep bouquet as for anything else, but here it’s a little lifeless, showing modest notes of raspberries, dominated by a green, briney, animal, damp-cellary, mildly over-the-hill character. But palate is very fresh and alive, with beguiling coffeed complexity. Very good length too. Perhaps not the ultimate Barolo experience (1961, with its remaining power, is more impressive) but very interesting for sure. Last sips at room temperature are really tannic (!), mineral, impressively long and so very much alive.
Kopke Porto Colheita 1938
A half-bottle that was distributed to journos who attended a presentation of old colheita ports from the
Sogevinus companies (a holding that was established in 2006 and regroups some of the most prestigious port brands: Barros, Burmester, Cálem and Kopke). No bottling date but likely to have been 2007, shortly before the event. Colour is a transparent brown-amber. For volatility and a salty, marmitey character this is close to a madeira in style. A vestige of pink fruit, crystallised sugar, minor saltiness underneath; not really nutty (unlike most of these old colheitas). Moderate sweetness, high acidity, good (but not extraordinary) length, this is a good example of an aged colheita but frankly unexceptional. The flavour is a bit low and there’s only reasonable complexity; this tastes like a mid-1970s colheita could (and not a greatly structured one at that). Perhaps just an inferior vintage here, as the 1937 was one of the stars of the said tasting.

Love and hate in Alsace

Is Alsace the best wine region in the world, as the Alsatians claim?

62 grands crus (3 on video)

Well, almost. Let’s say 62 grand cru level wines that were poured during a morning and afternoon session at Robert Mielżyński’s annual Grand Cru event. As leisurely as it sounds (and looks: we taste outdoors on the lawn – made difficult this year by tropical temperatures and humidity here in Poland) it is one of the Polish season’s high points.

Getting ready for grands crus.
As noted above, tasting circumstances were short of perfect and the more serious red wines suffered. Nonetheless it was exciting to get a snapshot of new and old(ish) vintages, and some valid confirmations. Mielżyński’s catalogue is strong on Bordeaux and the event has traditionally centered around an en primeur tasting of the latest vintage. I consider tasting months-old Bordeaux pure nonsense, and it was no consolation that the wines were a few months older (and importantly, final blends) here compared to the April trade tastings in Bordeaux that generate the plethora of Parker & Co. points. Anyway Phélan-Ségur 2008 was nicely curranty but curiously untannic, centered around what seems to be a major 2008 characteristic: fresh, zesty acidity. The best from Domaine de Chevalier was not its overoaked vanilla-scented 2008 but the following spell of honesty: On ne fait plus du raisin, on est sur le marché des bijoux. The nicest 2008 came from Kirwan, juicy, crisp and full of a rarely seen nervosité. But it was so much more exciting to taste the older vintages: Domaine de Chevalier 2001 suave, generous and with quality tannins; Phélan-Ségur 1996 evolved, animal and so satisfying for its bourgeois peerage; Kirwan 1998 (pre-Rolland by the way) balanced to the millimetre, very Cabernetish with a lot of reserve; and last not least, Palmer 2003 oozing luxe and a quality of oak you find in maybe five or six wines on this planet. Hmmm, I nearly got excited with Bordeaux.

Alberto Cordero di Montezemolo talks to Polish vintner Katarzyna Niemyjska.

But it was all forgettable compared to the Douro wines of Cristiano van Zeller of Quinta do Vale Dona Maria. I’ve never tasted an unbalanced wine here but the recent vintages have picked up even more depth and concentration (courtesy of old vineyards but also a more precise extraction than before, I guess). Even the 13€ red VZ is an utterly serious wine with plenty of substance and terroir definition; if I had an estate in the Douro I’d really be happy to have this as my grand vin. 2006 is rocking now but 2007 promises even better; it’ll be a truly memorable vintage. The flagship Quinta do Vale Dona Maria 2006 is thick as ink and very structured but already hints at superb balance of black fruits and minerals; it’s more convincing today than the 2007 which I’ve found a little atypical, more Mediterranean, low-acid, almost Grenachey than usually here. (But it was tasted under the 30C midday sun). The limited-production CV 2007 is a more seriously extracted beast of a red, but this too has gained depth and personality in the last vintage or two (not that it ever lacked either). These are ridiculously affordable wines that have never failed me, and to get them you don’t need to fight the en primeur battles with brokers from Moscow and Shanghai.

Here’s Cristiano van Zeller explaining the 2007 vintage for you:

http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/QJOiQ2_oB18&hl=pl&fs=1&rel=0&border=1

Having recently blogged on the Dobogó estate in Tokaj I’d only briefly mention yet another excellent dry Furmint from winemaker Attila Domokos: the newly introduced single-vineyard Szerelmi 2007 finds that elusive middle way of upper bracket Furmint; it’s rich but botrytis-free and not overripe, oaky but the use of second-year 400-liter barrels gives it a real sense of balance. Also an exciting mini-vertical of the Aszú 6 Puttonyos with a spicy, evolved but delightfully fresh 2003 (Domokos’ first vintage – now that’s really impressive), a perfumed, airy, against-the-odds 2005 and a truly stunning 100% Furmint 2004, clean as a whistle and invigoratingly citrusy, in a vintage when few makers had any grapes good enough to make a 6P.

In this weather, it’s perhaps little wonder oak-free crisp Rieslings performed best. Theresa Breuer of the Weingut Breuer was showing a range of bone-dry and mineral-deep Rheingau wines including the 2007 Berg Rottland that blew my mind last time; this time it was Berg Schlossberg that stole the show with a very subtle 2007 and a slowly maturing, beurre noir-flavoured 2002. Again, it’s difficult to think of a more reliable and honestly-priced estate than Breuer. Theresa speaks about the Berg Schlossberg bottling:

http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/TNC2BTvekR8&hl=pl&fs=1&rel=0&border=1

Another brilliant Riesling collection was presented by Roman Niewodniczanski of the Weingut Van Volxem in Saar. Saar is a microregion on the south-western outskirts of the Moselle, that in the last dozen decades has produced some spectacular sweet and sweetish wines courtesy of such vintners as Egon Müller and Zilliken. In 2000 Niewodniczanski revived a historical estate and set upon making quite a different style of wines: ripe, broad, concentrated, mineral, dry and dryish instead of sweet and far less zingy-acidic than before (mirroring, he claims, Saar wines as made in the 19th century when they belonged to the world’s most expensive). It’s a style that has been performed successfully elsewhere in Germany by estates such as Heymann-Löwenstein in the Lower Moselle, or Peter Jakob Kühn in the Rheingau. The stylistic agenda is controversial but qualitatively Van Volxem has been an obvious, and huge, success. We sampled through some young wines – 2008s are still in their infant stage (some unfiltered and very yeasty) but the Saar Riesling 2008 is already showing the impressive cruising speed this winery has reached in less than a decade, while the newly introduced Goldberg 2008 is certain to become one heck of a superconcentrated, almost brothy piece of mineral Riesling. The Saar Riesling 2007 is singing today. The highlight, however, was a series of aged magnums Roman brought for the sake of education and sensual delight. Bonjour mineralité with the Altenberg Alte Reben 2004 from 80–100-year-old vines, showing that unmistakeable salt & pepper signature of the Saar; a different balance with the sweetish Gottesfuss Alte Reben 2005 (16g of residual sugar), a broader, almost Pinot Gris-styled wine but not without balance and tension; fantastic drinkability and brilliant mineral zest with the Wiltinger Braunfels 2001: the most modest of these crus (and perhaps vintages too) and yet the most satisfying wine of the day.

Here’s Roman Niewodniczanski summarising his winery project in the Saar:

http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/UCxcgoliA1M&hl=pl&fs=1&rel=0&border=1

Henry Natter Sancerre 2006

Proven wrong
This bottle was part of a box sent by the producer for my book in January 2008. I didn’t like this 2006 Sancerre very much back then. It was inexpressive and underwhelming. My notes read: Mineral but rather indistinctive and ungiving on the nose, suffering from reduction. … Palate rather ordinary, with a hint of buttery softness of the ripe vintage, medium length, a mineral finish, but at no moment is there a hint of excitement or real personality. This needs more concentration. … Utterly forgettable. The one wine I liked from the box was the Rosé 2006 (not a great recommendation for a Sancerre producer, I reckon).

Well, I must admit I was wrong, and underestimated this 2006. Maybe because it was too young? Opened today, this is not complex or deep but really very satisfying. What used to be reduction is now a crystal-clear minerality, and the palate has filled out. Restrained, balanced, with moderate but sufficient acidity (exactly where it should be in a ripe vintage like 2006). No hard edges, this is showing at its best with delicate foods where the mineral backbone serves as architectural (I’m almost tempted to write, institutional) support. Somehow this bottle embodies the classicism of good French wine: it is oh-so-unshowy but leaves you deeply satisfied after you’ve emptied the bottle in 40 minutes. The world needs more wines like this.

A vinous quad

Cellar damage

A family gathering resulted in what wine lovers (half-)jokingly refer to as ‘cellar damage’. It was on occasion to look at some wines I was curious to try, alongside some I just genuinely like. Selbach-Oster Zeltinger Schlossberg
Riesling Spätlese trocken* 2007

I stocked up heavily on German 2007s in general (my favourite vintage of the last decade, with fantastic poise) and
Selbach-Oster in particular, whose unadulterated style (and ridiculously affordable prices) I cherish. Having been in no rush to empty the bin, I am slowly discovering the various cuvées here. This wine (AP no. #18-08, 12.5% alc.) is described by Johannes Selbach as fruity and elegant. No doubt about it, but somewhat surprisingly it doesn’t taste trocken at all. With a good deep colour and a powerful ripe peachy nose with subsidiary notes of honey, flowers, and jammy stone fruits, it is really suggestive of a sweet Spätlese. However, there is also lots of mineral tension, making it assertive and interesting. Likewise on palate this is much into halbtrocken category, although also has a fusel whisky-like presence of alcohol (not too high though) of real trocken. Not unenjoyable, there’s plenty of fruit and more substance than often for Selbach-Oster (the concentration is noteworthy for the Middle Mosel), but I just find this mislabelled as it really tastes like a Spätlese feinherb. On its own merits, recommended for sure. Királyudvar Tokaji Furmint száraz [dry] 2005
This wine is from
a prime estate in the Hungarian region of Tokaj, where there’s a dynamic development of the dry wine offerings at the moment. Made primarily from Furmint, a powerful, high-acid, ageworthy grape variety, these wines can range from the light and zesty to the extractive and botrytis-spiced. Here we have an intermediate style with a fair bit of weight (a moderate 13% in the context of Furmint) but good drinkability. A rich nose with some notes of botrytis, also mildly oxidative (or just ageing), this is showing a bit of residual sugar and less acidic drive than I expected (especially for the crisp 2005 vintage). But there is also that basaltic-dusty expression of the volcanic terroir of Tokaj that is so recognisable. Palate is semi-dry, with some slightly off oak notes, not very long finish in this essentially simple wine. (To its credit it’s also inexpensive, and positioned clearly below Királyudvar’s cru Furmint bottlings such as Lapis, Henye or Úrágya). Better with airing when the dusty oak notes integrate. At its peak now, drink by 2010.
Clos Lapeyre Jurançon Sec 1998
The south-western French region of Jurançon shares a single characteristic with Tokaj: mouth-puckering acidity. No wonder both regions have historically been known for sweet wines, where high levels of sugar contribute to balancing that aggressive citric tang on the palate. Making a good dry Jurançon is therefore as much of a challenge as a dry Tokaj. This wine has had ten years to digest its acidity (it’s spent them chiefly in the cellars of the excellent Wiesbaden
Weincontor which I’ve already mentioned here). The bouquet is surely very mature, with burnt milk, honey, butterscotch, and a tertiary damp-cellary character the Germans aptly term Firne. There is also some underlying minerality. Then on the palate (perhaps expectedly so) there a streak of tart acidity that has preserved the wine in an almost unchanged, green-grapey stage. (The 12.5% alcohol also tells you these grapes weren’t picked overripe). All in all this is well-preserved, fun and interesting to drink wine, but not a lot of dimension and showing the limitation of many dry Jurançons, sadly. Not all though – try something like the Sève d’Automne from Domaine Cauhapé for quite a different, untart take on the appellation.
Le Vieux Donjon Châteauneuf-du-Pape 2000
This small estate is among the most traditional in Châteauneuf, though unlike other exponents of the style such as Clos des Papes it rarely makes it to
the headlines. A lowish-alcohol (only 13.5% here!) Grenache-dominated blend aged exclusively in large oak foudres with only one red cuvée being produced sum up this producer’s approach. This is another Weincontor purchase that I expected to be ready to drink. It roughly is. This wine is really showing Châteauneuf at both its most typical and most elegant. There’s not a hint of late-harvest jamminess, and remarkable freshness for the appellation (though it’s obviously a low-acid red). Lots of fruits rouges finesse on the nose, this has not so much substance or power but a haunting depth and airiness. Palate has that quintessential Grenache note of Agen prunes. The low alcohol (in context) is almost 50% of the success here. No great depth or poise, rather shows a conservative well-gauged and well-aged character (and perhaps all the more precious for that). I’ve really enjoyed it, also for its deliberate reluctance to beat any records of concentration or richness. I’ll surely buy some more next time I’m in Wiesbaden.

A day of burgundies

Virtual luxury

It’s been an engaging day of tasting here in Warsaw. Robert Mielżyński, one of our leading importers, organised a mini-fair of 6 estates from Burgundy, three of which are new agencies. It was an occasion to taste through some wines I rarely drink, and they were universally good.

Hélène Jaeger-Defaix opens another Chablis.

The Domaine Bernard Defaix makes very good Chablis. The winery lies at the foot of the Côte de Lechet vineyard (a premier cru) where its best holdings are located. From over 50-year-old vines, the special Côte de Lechet Réserve 2006 bottling has a brilliant fruity-mineral nose and an excitingly structured palate with big potential. It also shows excellent freshness and acidity in this warm low-acid vintage (of which Defaix has been one of the very best interpreters IMHO). This Réserve is obviously better than the Fourchaume 2007, still dominated by oak. The simple Chablis 2007, on the other hand, is really mouth-puckeringly acidic and greenish (as befits the vintage); it needs more time.
Continuing the white wines with Jean Chartron, this was a lesson on how to use oak. Even the simplest Bourgogne Clos de la Combe 2006 shows plenty of wood, but it is masterly balanced with plenty of acidity and minerality, and will still improve. There was a mild oxidative doubt about the Saint-Aubin Murgers des Dents de Chien 2006 (which in the end I liked), and the Chassagne-Montrachet Les Benoites 2007 was very tight and acidic. But the Puligny-Montrachet 2007 hit all the right notes: oak was but a discrete support, and there was an airy, almost flowery-perfumed exuberance to this otherwise solidly mineral piece of work. An impressive wine and actually good value (not a frequent thing on this tasting). Jean-René Chartron is also a great character to speak to.

Jean-René Chartron is usually merrier than this.

Frédéric Magnien makes a bewildering array of wines, but only the reds are represented in Poland. Their style is fairly easy to appreciate, fruity, generous, without pretentions to greatness. On show was the reliable and serious Bourgogne Pinot Noir 2006 and two 2005s, showing simpler and more mature than expected: the Chambolle-Musigny Vieilles Vignes a bit better than the Nuits-Saint-Georges Premier Cru Coeur de Roches.

Among Mielżyński’s latest agencies, Domaine Lucien Muzard & Fils from Santenay was new to me. This is red burgundy at its elemental, raw-fruity, croquant best, with healthy tannins and proud acidity. Thumbs up for the Bourgogne 2007 (good value) and the rustic Maranges 2007 which imperatively needs a grilled meat. More smoothness and elegance in the Santenay PC Clos de Tavannes 2007 and even more in the Volnay PC Chanlins 2007. The latter showed why Santenay will never be Volnay: quite fuller, with naturally ripe tannins and a sense of weight; another positive wine.

With Roger Belland we climb to another level. These are serious, concentrated, structured wines with a clear sense of minerality, in a style I’d define as intermediate: traditional elegance and airiness is coupled with very precise fruit, courtesy of the long cool fermentations. The Maranges PC La Fussière 2007 (another Maranges; more than I’ve tasted in many years) is peppery and tart-cherryish but the tannins are really nicely gauged. The Santenay PC Gravières 2007 showed a little simple and unexciting today, but the Pommard Les Cras 2007 (vines at 75 years) was really singing: dense and brooding, so sensual you almost forget about the underlying structure here. A rare example of a 2007 red that’s good to drink today. There was also the white Meursault PC Santenots 2007: grape-driven yet very structured and tight. Impressive but the price (60€ retail here in Poland) is really frightful.

The highlight of the tasting, for me, was Domaine Taupenot-Merme. Not only because of the very articulate and amiable Romain Taupenot, with whom I delighted in discussing the difference between pigeage and touillage (really geeky…), but also because of the more traditional, wonderfully elegant style of the wines. Pinot Noir allying power and finesse is an old cliché but these are really very complete wines. The Morey Saint-Denis 2007 (still a bit oaky) was brilliantly tannic, natural, effortless, with typicity and personality to spare. Corton Rognet 2006 is a big but unaggressive wine with that extra 2006 ripeness and warmth, though the finish is almost painfully dry today. For drinking soon, the Nuits-Saint-Georges PC Les Pruliers 2002 is almost perfect, with a lovely complex bouquet and that minor bit of greenness on the palate adding interest rather than upset; another very complete wine. Meanwhile, both the Mazoyères-Chambertin 2006 and Charmes-Chambertin 1998 should still wait. Both are statuesque, a little intellectual even, as befits a grand cru perhaps; both have a lot of tight earthy tannins on the end. But there were good surprises down the ladder too, with a vastly overperforming Saint-Romain 2006.

Romain Taupenot introducing his wine at lunch.

Robert Mielżyński was industrious enough to organise the lunch together with the Norwegian Seafood Export Council (see institutional website here) who brought chef Endre Gabrielsen along from Norway. I’ll leave you to read the complete menu below while only saying this was absolutely lovely fish, and there were some nice wine pairings too with the Jean Chartron Puligny 2007 nicely balancing the olive oil & dill cod with its structure, and the Taupenot-Merme Saint-Romain 2006 an adventurous but satisfying match with the pan-fried halibut.

This tasting was a very welcome change of pace. I almost never buy burgundy, and consequently rarely drink it. It is a very complex region, requiring pretty much a full-time specialisation to properly apprehend. This tasting showed how much I’m missing, but also how challenging it can be to fully reset your mind and palate to this style of wine. Especially in the reds, there is something about the cool acidic taste of crunchy tannins on the front of the palate that’s quite a distinctive physical experience, unlike any ‘other’ wine out there.

And then (I have to mention this) there is the issue of prices. The cheapest wine on tasting was 12€ (Polish retail), and over half were above 25€. While I delighted in the premiers and grands crus here, I won’t be able to afford them any more frequently than before. So this tasting was pretty much a virtual exercise, and now it’s time to step down to earth to my usual fare of Riesling and Chianti.

Norwegian cod poached in olive oil;
dill, apples, cucumber and cream of egg yolks.

René Muré Riesling Clos Saint-Landelin 1999

A true grand cru

As an occasion is followed by another, I opened a big gun from the cellar today. A Riesling from Alsace. I reported on some problems with Alsatian wines here and here, but this bottle was simply outstanding.

René Muré is, in any ranking, playing in the premier league of the region. The winery owes its success largely to the Clos Saint-Landelin, a monopole parcel within the grand cru of Vorbourg. With its sun-absorbing sandstone this vineyard belongs to Alsace’s hottest, and consistently produces very powerful wines with record ripeness (lots of VT and SGN level wines, and regular botrytis) but also a strong mineral imprint. For power and concentration of flavour, they are sometimes reminiscent of the Rangen de Thann vineyard (whose terroir, however, couldn’t be more different: volcanic basalt). In the past, I’ve especially enjoyed the dry Rieslings and sweeter styles of Gewurztraminer from here.

This lone bottle of Riesling Clos Saint-Landelin 1999 was purchased for a miserable 15€ on sale in a wine shop in Verona (of all places). I now regret having wasted luggage space for some silly Amarones and not having bought more of this (the current vintage is 23€ ex-cellars). It is really a spectacular wine. Enormously rich. An impressive fully mature deep yellow colour. Nose shows a high amount of botrytis (this varies from year to year; the 2002 Riesling had close to none) in an explosive raisiny, spicy bouquet that also shows quite some peppery, stony minerality and freshness for balance. Palate is massive and impressive, broad and powerful on attack, so mineral that it initially feels dry, although there is quite a bit of residual sugar. A fairly weighty, structured, solar, oily, terroir-driven, peppery, botrytis-spiced whole. Acidity is also rather present, adding to the fairly virtuosic balance of this wine. No denying the high alcohol but this is really a substantial wine, and it carries it with grace. While this quintessentially Alsatian full-blown style might be challenging to the uninitiated, this is really Riesling – and wine tout court – at its best.

Agrapart Avize 1995

Occasions, occasions
With a reason to celebrate, I dug into my champagne bin and found this: the 1995 Avize Grand Cru Brut from Agrapart & Fils.

It’s a bottle I got as a gift during a trip to the Champagne region in 2003, and liked very much back then. Rich, deep, mineral, terroir-driven, compellingly individual for a champagne, it’s been waiting all these years for a proper ‘occasion’. We all know the feeling. Plenty of bottles too good to drink with casual dinners. But ‘occasions’ are rare and never seem to fit the wines (or vice versa).

That’s why this bottle was opened a little too late perhaps. Nothing wrong: in fact I found its slightly frail stature interesting. It was probably at peak two or three years ago (if not downright in 2003, I fear to say). As often with Champagne, there is enough body and power to sustain the wine even a bit past prime.

So what is it like? It’s predominantly vinous. Vinosity is an important category when understanding and discussing champagne. It’s what really sets the ephemeral featherlight fizz apart from a serious white wine that accidentally has happens to have bubbles in it. There are some gorgeous champagnes that are just champagnes: beautifully crafted and delicious to drink but a little superficial; ‘made’, not ‘born’ as good wine should be (Deutz springs to mind; Gosset also, perhaps). And then there are wines with so much substance and density they really become what champagne essentially is: a northern white Burgundy (many examples, from the better bottles of Bollinger through Jacquesson up to many small growers such as Égly-Ouriet or Larmandier).

This champagne, with its somewhat diminished effervescence, is tasting like a mature Meursault. Honey, butterscotch, brioche, praline, some elusive hazelnut, underpinned by a vestige of peary fruit. Then silence, and later, a tight core of minerality. The east-facing bare limestone slopes of Avize shine on the finish. This wine is sensually delicious – it’s Chardonnay at its most Baroque, with sweetness aplenty – but it is also very transparent and terroir-truthful. And that’s quite an achievement for champagne.

Agrapart is a house well-known to aficionados but surely less so to the general public. I see from recent reviews that they’re doing well. The wine I am drinking today is now called Avizoise. I’m sure the good recent vintages – such as 2002 – would be a very fine choice for cellaring. Save it for a big occasion.