More from my flirtatious world tour of Pinot Noir, and this one came in a Sunday Times Wine Club Pinot Noir mixed case at £69.99 (the case, not the bottle).
Is Pinot Noir really so fickle? My recent experience says that many areas of the world are successfully bedding this sex kitten of a grape. Adolfo Hurtado has certainly put a notch on his bedstead. For he’s a jolly good fellow!
The gardening season is upon us and this year I am so organised, I had my lawn mower serviced early to beat the rush. Now it’s just a matter of being organised enough to be at home on one of the rare days that it doesn’t rain, so I can mow the lawn.
While I stare glumly out of the window at another English horizontal monsoon, I console myself by sampling eastern European wine. But making decent Pinot Noir is about as Herculean a task as predicting which raindrop will win the race to the bottom of the pane.
This Romanian immigrant was part of the 2006 wine trade and smuggled in via a Sunday Times Wine Club mixed case “pure pinot noir” in exchange for a £69.99 ransom. Not in the exorbitant price category then.
Why keep an online diary? I am not Samuel Pepys. I don’t have a burning desire to share my (albeit valuable) thoughts with the world. I have no reason to create an alibi, or lay a false trail for the police. I don’t have much spare time in my life, so I have to write quickly and from the gut (well, bladder to be precise). So why do I do it?
The answer is as simple as the various thoughts that meander through my sponge-like brain. I am exploring the world of wine and I wanted to keep a record for myself because my memory is patchy. But even I would be bored by reading bland tasting notes, or wine ratings (no, no, no, no, no, please, wine is subjective!). So I wrap my thoughts in inane claptrap…for some reason. And I know it’s bad form, but when I do look back at my various posts, I sometimes laugh at my own jokes (someone has to). Above all I recall happy things that simply would have fallen through my colandar like memory otherwise.
The imaginatively titled “102T” is not a name likely to hang around my hippocampus. It came from the Chilean Pinot Noir case I ordered from the Wine Society for about £82 recently.
My tour of the Pinot Noirs of the world is a long way from completion and getting more and more interesting by the minute. This one, from the Wine Society mixed case Chile Pinot Noirs (£82 for twelve bottles) is earthy and earthy.
An earthy smell with compost and wet leaves is not the greatest compliment to a wine. The taste was sharp at first but it mellowed over time. Mixed berries, carrot, grapefruit skin and mushroom – nice? You judge…..
14% alcohol is not too much really, but it is a bit new world. Then again Chile is in the New World so maybe this is a great wine, just not to my taste.
All too recently I have learnt just how varied Pinot Noir can be. If Burgundy is the spiritual church of Pinot, then New Zealand is surely the moonie cult. But there are wines from Eastern Europe, USA, South America, in fact just about every wine region feels it has to have a go at this sometimes rewarding but often fickle bedfellow. It seems that everyone loves a challenge and nobody can resist trying to pull the Brigitte Bardot of grapes.
Some of the Chilean Pinot Noirs I have tried recently are extraordinarily good, but not typical of the wines from Bourgogne. Most commentators agree that New Zealand Pinot Noirs are hitting the stratosphere in quality terms. I have found many of these to be interesting too, although perhaps a little nearer, in religious terms, to the Pinot cathédrale of the Côte D’Or.
This bottle of Stonewall, Forrest Estate 2005 came to me from Marlborough via a mixed case from the Sunday Times Wine Club “Pure Pinots” at £69.99 the case. The first thing that struck me was a boring label by NZ standards. However, the taste was far from boring. Strawberry, macaroon, stewed blackberry and grapefruit, is a fantastic mix and this wine added a touch of vanilla ice cream too (or did I serve it too cold?). It took time to open up though. This is worth opening half an hour before drinking, if you can keep your sweaty mitts off it for that long. I couldn’t.
Amongst the dark satanic mills of Halifax, West Yorkshire, there are indeed some green and pleasant pastures, and nestling in the hills we found Shibden Mill Inn. We once stopped for a quick Sunday lunch on a walking expedition and vowed to go back. On 1 March, Fred had just picked up a brand new Mini Cooper, so a drive out to somewhere remote seemed appropriate.
I’m making a move for Pinot Noir, the Brigitte Bardot of grapes. Beguiling, attractive, seductive, fruity, yet inconsistent and possibly a little bonkers.
You may recall my suspicions about a new case from Virgin Wines were mostly unfounded, as the first bottle I tried was rather nice.
The case also contained three wines from the same stable – a Marlborough outfit by the name of Belmonte. I tried the Pinot Noir recently with surprising results.
Just down the road from the entrance to the Ritz on Arlington St, just off Piccadilly, you will find Le Caprice, a favourite haunt of the stars for several decades. This part of London is over-endowed with decent restaurants. To quaint northerners like me this seems unfair.
The Wolseley is just round the corner, as is Langan’s Brasserie, Claridge’s, Scott’s of Mayfair, and Fortnum & Mason. Meanwhile in the nearby West End, The Ivy, sister to Le Caprice, is undoubtedly one of the best restos in London despite the nouvellement célèbrés and the nouveaux riche who visit only to be seen rather than to enjoy food and wine. So was Le Caprice, part of the group that owns The Ivy, as good as its sibling?
This could well be one of the most expensive bottles of wine I have drunk. I bought half a dozen Rousseaux from the Wine Society for nearly £300 which compared to my average bottle price of £5 to £10, was a breathtaking purchase decision.
Stumble It!
