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2011 Pannon Bormustra competition

A lightning visit to Budapest to taste the 48 wines awarded at the 2011 Pannon Bormustra competition: hopefully the crème de la crème of Hungarian wine.

Dobogó Furmint vertical

Four vintages of one of Tokaj’s very best dry wines: Dobogó Furmint.

Not a wine today, though a wine-derived product. We all know Italian balsamic vinegar and appreciate the real thing, aceto balsamico tradizionale di Modena, surely one of this planet’s most glorious man-made things. Although the principle of producing balsamic vinegar is simple – just boil grape must over fire, and then wait thirty years – it’s proven notoriously difficult to successfully emulate elsewhere. I’ve tasted balsamicos made by very good vintners in France, Spain, Germany and Australia and although really good, they were a far cry from the original Modena stuff.

Well, today’s balsamic vinegar comes quite close. It’s made in Tokaj, Hungary, by one of the leading producers of the region’s sweet wines: Dobogó (mentioned twice in my blog already: here and here). It’s vintage-dated (I’m tasting the 2005 here), and it’s made with must from aszú wine – yes, the incredibly sweet noble-rot affected ‘wine of kings, king of wines’. Even the bacteria that slowly ferment the wine into vinegar are selected from the skins of the estate’s Furmint grapes. Aged a year in Hungarian and Italian oak – and so very much shorter than a good Emilian balsamico – it’s one of the most concentrated vinegars I’ve tasted. While it doesn’t quite match the ageless viscosity of Modenian vinegar, it is very thick, with a wonderfully complex flavour ranging from fresh grapes through molasses to tertiary notes of caramel, dried figs and Marmite. Just a bit less sweet than Modena, the tang of this Tokaj vinegar is a bit more obvious (6%), making this a very good accompaniment with savoury foods. And it’s really inexpensive – 10 € for the 250 ml you see on the photos – though I don’t think it’s exported.

In Tokaj (2): The grassroots revolution

Tokaj made its name on botrytised sweet wines, aszú, yet as mentioned in my previous post, these have fallen out of fashion and become notoriously difficult to sell both on the domestic market and export. As Tokaj has had to find a proper productive balance to survive at all – it’s actually a work in progress – the unthinkable has happened: it’s now possible to taste through several dozen Tokaj wines and climb to 90+ ratings without having a single botrytis wines on the table. It’s what happened to me last Friday when I met with the young up-and-coming vintners of the Tokaji Bormívelők Társarsága (that’s Tokaj Wine Artisans’ Society, you’ve guessed it, but let’s call it TBT hereafter).

Classified vineyards of Tokaj. © TBT (click for more info).

They’re a weird bunch really. Zsolt Berger was a business journalist before he came to Tokaj and started making wine out of the blue. Attila Homonna (see a brief entry about him here) was a successful marketing guy and then owned a wine shop in Debrecen but he got the Tokaj bug too; it’s all made remarkable by the fact that after 8 vintages made he’s still only 35. Judit Bodó (née Bott, which is the name of her winery) came from Slovakia without the merest experience in winemaking (though she’s travelled to vineyards in Alto Adige and South Africa to learn, on her own expenses); in the first couple of years of production her dry Furmints instantly propelled her into the regional superleague. There are arguably some very successful autodidacts in the wine world but nowhere in such high proportion.

The fact that it took a young generation with little or no background in winemaking to produce some of the most breathtaking dry wines in Tokaj is a paradox that one day, I hope, will become the subject of a sociological and psychological study. But it’s another fact that the heroes of the 1990s focused on the sweet wines and haven’t really come to terms with making world-class dries. (The situation is vaguely similar to that of port and dry Douro wines in Portugal). Sure, there have been some successful bottlings such as Oremus’ Burgundian Mandolás or János Árvay’s turbocharged (and excessive) single-vineyard Furmints, but it was not the breakthrough Tokaj needed to establish itself firmly on the great dry white wine map of the world.

Zsolt Berger tasting a luminous 2009.

It was István Szepsy, the region’s veteran and consistently the author of its greatest sweet aszús, who showed the way with his 2000 Úrágya Furmint. Old vineyards, low yields, ripe but unbotrytised grapes, oak fermentation, big structure (but balanced alcohol) and a touch of residual sugar to balance Furmint’s notoriously punchy acids: Szepsy’s recipe for success has now been developed by a large group of dedicated estates.

They all have a few points in common: they are small (‘boutique’ or ‘garage’ is a good descriptor here), own pockets of vines in Tokaj’s most prestigious vineyards (that were listed in 1700 in Europe’s earliest attempt at vineyard classification), make little or no sweet wine, and have an ambition of making Tokaj a great terroir white, rather than a FMCG marketable alternative to save the company cashflow. In 2006 the Artisans’ Society (TBT) was created: a list of classified crus was drawn, members meet, talk and taste together, agreeing on which submitted wines adhere to the strict criteria and the overall philosophy of the project. Those that pass the exam get the TBT logo. The system works a bit like the Grosses Gewächs one in Germany, and in due time will hopefully become the foundation for Tokaj’s official premiers and grands crus.

A happy TBT bunch: Hajnalka Prácser of Erszébet, Stéphanie Berecz of Kikelet, Sarolta Bárdos of Tokaj Nobilis with her 3-month-old daughter, Judit Bodó of Bott, and Zoltán Asztalos of Néktar.

We’ve tasted some impossibly limpid, pithy, stoney-mineral 2007s and 2008s from Attila Homonna, and a very idiosyncratic 2008 Palandor Furmint from Karádi & Berger: peppery, violent, very volcanic indeed, with a rare expressiveness (the 2007 is a touch shier and there is also a 2003 Dry Szamorodni, essentially a mildly oxidative version of the same wine). We’ve tasted the impressive 2007 Öreg Király from Károly Barta, vinified by Homonna from high-perched terraces in this, perhaps Tokaj’s most majestic and uncompromisingly mineral cru. Béla Török showed some fun wines including a 2008 semi-dry Muscat of rarely seen minerality. Stéphanie & Zsolt Berecz from the Kikelet estate poured a delicious sweet 2007 Late Harvest but also my favourite expression of Hárslevelű (Tokaj’s second grape variety), zesty, witty, springtime-refreshing instead of the chunky, alcoholic, oxidative thing it so often becomes. Sarolta Bárdos and Péter Molnár of Tokaj Nobilis also make an excellent Hárs as well as a pure and limey 2008 Furmint from the cru of Barakonyi (and an intriguing semi-sweet Spätlese-styled Kövérszőlő, from Tokaj’s oldest, almost extinct variety). Judit Bott surpassed herself with a 2008 Csontos Furmint that has about the best mineral and structural balance I’ve seen in the region.

I tasted 60 Tokajs on that Friday and there was hardly a sweet botrytised aszú in sight. And yet it was as exciting as if I’d been in, say, Chablis or Rüdesheim. Revolutions always start quietly but eventually turn our world upside down. This one is no exception.

In Tokaj (1): Wounded heroes

For the visitor from outside, wintertime Hungary is depressive. The derelict villages are desert and the atmospheric depression coincides with very harsh economic times for Tokaj. A mixture of unwise business decisions from the late 1990s and Hungary’s suicidal governmental policy of the last few years has resulted in a complete standstill of sweet wine sales. Large companies are reporting hundreds of thousands €’s losses, and many small estates are struggling to survive.

It’s an irony that this decadence is coinciding with the production of the world’s very best sweet wines. I apologise to those Yquem or Kracher or Egon Müller lovers out there but they cannot really equal the sheer sensual bliss of a Királyudvar Lapis Aszú 2002 or István Szepsy 2003. This simple truth found more than a few confirmations during my short stay here in Tokaj.

Vineyards on the eastern slope of Tokaj Hill.

It is also becoming clear that after the royal duo of 1999 and 2000 and some extremely convincing 2002s, it’s 2003 and 2006 that are now delivering Tokaj’s best wines of the decade. (They will need to last a few years; there was almost no sweet wine made in 2009 to due adverse autumn weather). 2003, Europe’s hottest and driest vintage on record, gave birth to some mildly atypical but fantastically tense and driven botrytis wines that will live the life of a generation, or two. My tastings have been far from exhaustive but István Szepsy, Zoltán Demeter, Úri Borok’s Szt. Tamás, Royal Tokaji’s Mézes Mály, and even the lesser-known Erzsébet’s Aszúeszencia provided the most excitement; Demeter’s 260g-sugar, 10.5g-acids warhorse might well be the wine of the vintage.

Tokaj, as mentioned, is in crisis. Thousands of bottles of botrytis aszú goingas back as 1998 remain unsold, and the obvious vineyard buying &planting overenthusiasm of the late 1990s has now become a serioushickup. I’ve seen one winery where dry whites from 2007 are still intank because there’s no cash to buy bottles. Those estates that debutedon more realistic business estimations later in the 2000s are faringbetter, basing their turnover on dry wines, but it’s still far from aneasy game: in a region where low yields and long ageing is aprerequisite of quality costs remain high, and Furmint is hardly anautomatic selling card on export markets.

Tokaj needs some cleaning.

But moments of crisis are a good time to make friends. Although Tokajers seem keen on keeping their prices where they’ve been (I’ve seen almost none of the unsold stock discounted), they’ll appreciate your purchase and especially your fidelity. Next time you’re after a solid mineral white with lots of terroir identity that goes brilliantly well with food, forget those Mâcons, Rheingaus and Savennières for once, and ask for Hungarian Furmint. You’ll be surprised – and might well be hooked for life.

Attila Homonna Furmint Határi 2006

Attila Homonna building his winery in June 2005.

I’m on my way to Tokaj to get updated on the latest vintage (and an overdose of residual sugar). In my habit of tuning up my palate to upcoming tasting I opened this bottle from microproducer Attila Homonna. He’s a mildly crazy fellow in his early 30s who started a 1-hectare estate out of the blue in 2002. The first wine he ever made, the Furmint Ordinarium 2002, was one of heck of a mind-blowing late-harvest Furmint that gave Zind-Humbrecht and Marcel Deiss a good run for their money. (I remember roaming around Vinexpo 2005 giving people a taste of the stuff and trying to spread the word, including to a politely uninterested Steven Spurrier).

Homonna’s breakthrough came in 2005 when his high-perched, ungrafted 80-year-old vines in the vineyard of Határi produced arguably the best dry wine of the vintage in Tokaj. Now Homonna is known to the cognoscenti and can charge 25€ for a bottle.

This 2006 Határi is very impressive in that it comes from a very difficult vintage. Excessive summer heat produced unbalanced dry Furmints with high alcohol and burnt fruit. The high elevation of Határi was no remedy. But Homonna judiciously picked early and made a wine that is a gem of vibrancy and mineral structure. It needs airing though, being dominated upon opening by dusty-varnishy oak of not very high quality (a recurrent problem in Hungarian white wines, that I attribute to poorly seasoned oak). In fact it’s easy to dismiss the wine as unbalanced and drying on the palate. Decant in a tall carafe and chill for 5–6 hours and you’ll be astonished by the change: a core of appetizing tangerine fruit, Furmint’s iron-cast acidic structure, a pure crystalline minerality, length, length, depth, solidity. It’s not a perfect wine in terms of winemaking but the stellar quality of the terroir is strongly shining through. The wine easily surpassed a 2006 Furmint from regional star István Szepsy that I opened alongside.

Stay tuned for live reports from Tokaj over the next few days.

Source of wine: own purchase.

Hímesudvar Tokaji Aszú 5 Puttonyos 1993

As I mentioned in my earlier post on puer tea, autumn is the time to pop the cork off some sweet botrytised wines. The chilly, misty mornings and low afternoon sun we’re currently experiencing in Central Europe are a clear reminder of the conditions in which the world’s greatest sweet wines are made. Morning humidity combined with sunny, warm daytime weather allow the development of so-called noble rot. Botrytis cinerea is a microscopic fungus that if proper conditions are maintained over several weeks, will gradually dry the grapes to raisins, concentrating sugar, acidity and flavour.

Botrytis wines are made throughout the world but three European regions are responsible for the best examples: Bordeaux’s Sauternes, Northern Germany (the Rhine and Moselle where wines are made from the Riesling grape) and the Hungarian region of Tokaj. (Some might want to add the Loire Valley, Alsace, and the Austrian Neusiedl Lake to this list).

I’ve already given an introduction to Tokaj here. For the first bottle of this new wine season, I was tempted to open some of the best stuff from my cellar such as István Szepsy or Királyudvar but went for this modest wine instead. The Hímesudvar Tokaji Aszú 5 Puttonyos 1993 comes from a small estate run by the Várhegyi family that is better known for its delightful wine shop and tavern located in the centre of Tokaj town. Over the last years their wines have been somewhat erratic with volatile acidity and unclean flavours especially in the dry and semi-dry Furmint, but this sweet Aszú comes from a legendary vintage that many still consider the best of the modern Tokaj era. (1999, 2000, 2002 and 2006 are serious challengers). It’s a bit like 1982 in Bordeaux, or 1990 in Tuscany – everybody made great wine and drinking these bottles today, provided the price is reasonable, is a consistent delight.

Purchased in 2001 for something like 20€, this wine is wonderfully preserved and showing the sheer class of that unrepeatable vintage. A slowly maturing amber colour with hints of red. Classic Tokaj nose, very mineral, not so sweet, though with a brown sugar edge of botrytis; also mixed spices, poppy seed (a common aroma with aged Tokaj) and quince. Lots of allure and depth here; a very good surprise. Medium sweet on palate with that wonderful balance of aged Tokaj (especially in the 5 puttonyos category), almost dry on the finish. Broad without really being very opulent, this is rather restrained and classic but with plenty of intensity, complexity and interest. Acidity is not so high perceptively (until recently, many 1993s were quite sharp); there’s minor bitterness on end but no VA. A brilliant wine and a fitting start to the autumn.

Tokaj town, not far from the Hímesudvar winery.

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Those who followed the blind tea tasting exercise in the previous post can now see the teas’ identity revealed at the bottom of post here.

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

Patrícius Furmint 2006

Cherish the moment

You’ll inevitably read more about wines from Tokaj on this blog in the coming weeks, as I digest the grand Tokaj tasting described here. This is my second-last bottle of the 2006 dry Furmint from Patrícius. I was prompted to open it by the lack of the new vintage at the Warsaw tasting (Patrícius showed a dry Muscat instead), and by feedback from a friend who recently tasted this 2006 and found it excellent.

He was right. I’ve had some family for lunch yesterday and as we sat in the garden with some green asparagus vinaigrette, the first glass of this wine was explosively delicious. Especially after my early tasting of it in December 2007, when it was showing malic and sharp and a little charmless. This has now put on some plump weight, and resembles a Viognier perhaps – but with a powerful volcanic extract that Viognier never shows. Consistent with the 2006 in Tokaj in being rich and big (alcohol the only problem) but also showing quite a bit of terroir dimension. Really good, and showing this bottling can even fly higher in more structured vintages like 2007. It’s also really inexpensive, selling for around 7€.

Tokaj Day in Warsaw

The wine of kings – no doubts

Last Monday was the second edition of the Tokaj Day in Warsaw. Co-organised by the WINO Magazine (where I’m one of the editors) and the Tokaj Renaissance association, it’s a major consumer event aimed at presenting the new vintage of sweet aszú wines to the public. (It mirrors a similar event that takes place every May in Budapest).

For the Polish wine writer and wine lover, Hungary is a major wine-producing country, and Tokaj is the prime region of Hungary. For reasons of tradition, geographic vicinity, and let me say, spiritual affinity, the red wines of Eger and Villány, the white wines of the Balaton, and the sweet ones of Tokaj have always held a special place in our hearts and cellars. There might currently be more romance associated with Brunello or more bottom-shelf reliability with Colchagua but when an emotional bottle is to be opened, you’re almost guaranteed to see a bottle of Tokaji on a Polish table.

Tokaj Renaissance is a private association of wineries that has consistently represented the region’s best since 1995 (although there are some controversial moves in and out of the club, including the recent secession of Királyudvar and István Szepsy). 12 of Renaissance’s members made the trip to Warsaw this year, and there were a very amiable bunch of winemakers and sales reps, massively contributing to this event having an easy-going, almost family feel to it.

So what about the 2005 vintage? Based on this tasting (where each winery presented just one sweet aszú wine), it is not easy to assess. Tokaj producers are very positive about it, and I couldn’t help feeling they’re being a bit overenthusiastic when they compare it to the wondrous 1999 (perhaps the best vintage since the Wende of 1989). 2005, in fact, started rather grim with an uninspiringly cloudy summer, and was only saved by a prolonged Indian summer that allowed a good development of noble rot – a great Tokaji’s sine qua non.

The wines are of course showing very young, but with any degree of certainty they can be said to lack the steely acidic structure of 1999. 2005 is a rich vintage with a fair bit of botrytis in the aromatic spectrum – in fact if I had to compare it to other recent vintages it tastes like a slightly better, more consistent version of 2004 and 2001 (two rather light but fairly classic and attractive vintages). And it is also showing very heterogeneous. From the very light, almost semi-sweet Aszú 5 Puttonyos of Béres to the ultra-rich 6P of Bodvin, from the fairly traditional, spicy-oxidative style of Samuel Tinon to the diamond-clean one of Disznókő, the vintage is a faithful reflection of modern Tokaj’s diversity – but this doesn’t make the task of fully assessing a vintage any easier.

The above-mentioned Disznókő presented what was perhaps the most convincing 2005 6P, still a little shy but excitingly driven and spicy with a structure that guarantees imminent improvement. Royal Tokaji’s 6P Szt. Tamás is brooding, tense and devilishly long on the palate but showing masses of oak on the nose for now; this will be for the most patient among you. Dobogó made a complex, sweet-savoury 6P with lovely freshness but perhaps not among the very best Tokajis. To Samuel Tinon’s credit, his 5P 2005 showed the clearest minerality and structure but also a certain green, leafy character that somehow shows the limits of the vintage. All these wines must be retasted in six months or so to really make sure.

Not surprisingly, therefore, the most exciting bottles of this exciting day were not 2005 aszús. There were some outstanding older sweet wines, including the fantastically poised 2003 Betsek 6P from Royal Tokaji (probably the best acidity in a 2003 Tokaj I can remember), though even this was overshadowed by Royal’s mindblowing 2003 Mézesmály 6P which is a 99-point wine if there ever was one: decadently rich but with an incredible lemony drive. From Sauska Tokaj (formerly Árvay & Co.) came an utterly delicious 1999 6P, slowly maturing, deep, complex, heather honey-infused – and fairly approachable for a 1999, with a subdued acidity. These are all bottles to die for.

From lighter sweet wines, I really liked the Dobogó Mylitta 2007, a wine of impeccable balance where I’d challenge you to guess even half of the actual 127g of residual sugar; kudos to winemaker Attila Domokos. Another excellent bottle is the 2007 Furmint édes [sweet] from Pendits, mineral-fruity, balanced and joyful.

Samuel Tinon and his ground-breaking Dry Szamorodni.

Lots of interest in the dry wine department, too. A dozen aperitif bottles of Patrícius’ 2008 Dry Muscat were deliciously varietal while Royal’s 2007 Dry Furmint, simple but reliable and nicely rounded by a bit of oak, was head and shoulders above past vintages of this wine, and a really good surprise. On a more serious level, Dobogó showed a nicely mineral 2007 Furmint while the 2006 tasted at dinner was richer, rounder and more approachable today; this very reliable bottling is best enjoyed at 4 or 5 years of age, in my experience. And then there was the fascinating oddity of Tinon’s 2003 Dry Szamorodni. Made from botrytised grapes but fermented dry and then aged six years in unfilled barrels under a veil of yeast (like fino sherry or vin jaune from the Jura), this historical style has pretty much fallen into oblivion in Tokaj, where there are just a few commercial interpretations available from the large producers. Tinon’s tenacity, dedication and insight have shown what can be achieved. I followed this Szamorodni through a number of barrel samplings and was skeptical, but a few months after bottling this 2003 is really showing sheer class and unexpected elegance. With a spicy vin jaune nose of curry and nuts, it ravished with some lovely evolved fruit on the palate and a soft, unaggressive, perfectly ripe acidity. More on Tinon’s project when I visit him again in the autumn; meanwhile, watch this space in the coming weeks as I review more Tokaj wines for you.