Confessions of a Wino

I told the guy in Latitude, Leeds, that I love white Bordeaux, and had a party coming up, but I didn’t want to break the bank and spoil the neighbours. He recommended this Semillon Sauvignon Blanc from Margaret River, Australia.

It’s crisp, yet smooth, rich and creamy, like an apple tart with custard and a dribble of honey. Latitude sold me this for £11.25 and, for that dosh, it beats most Bordeaux I’ve tried at the price point. Highly recommended. Remember WART rules and serve at the temperature of an oaked Chardonnay – about 10-12ºC (at least half an hour out of the fridge).

And for any of my lovely neighbours reading this, I was only joking. I’ve just received a shipment of Echo Falls for you. I’ll be keeping the Pitchfork for myself.

I have an American colleague, of French origin, who given his own bodyweight in Sancerre would happily sit on his sunny balcony and drink it nonstop in a frenzied Loire-athon. He does admit that other wine regions in France exist but they are either over-priced or under-qualitied. There are no wines produced from outside “l’hexagon”.

I share an interest in French Sauvignon Blanc and the Loire is the pinnacle of how to convert the grape into astonishingly bright, juicy, sunny, flavours.

It seems ages since people seriously contemplated that new fangled New Zealand upstarts like Cloudy Bay might put the Loire Valley out of business. The subtleties of the wines of the French region are rarely found in Marlborough. I love many kiwi zingers, but grapefruity zinginess, if overdone, can test ones mouth ulcers to the limit . Built by Domaine Serge Laloue, Exhibition Sancerre is zingy in a gooseberry bush kind of  a way, but without the cat piss. Very refined and priced to go at £12.95.

I used to buy a case or three of New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc a year and always Jane Hunter featured in the centre. But zingy cat piss can only bring on so much excitement, and the last couple of years have seen almost zero feline urolagnia staining the Wino doorstep.

However, the grand old grape of Riesling, revered by so many winos, is also widely grown in Middle Earth. Mix an awesome winemaker with awesome materials and the mouth waters. The Ruby Murray came by moped from The Sharma in Heckmondwike. Jane Hunter is widely available. My bottle was delivered by the Wine Society for £11.95.

The wine is incredibly appley. Shut your eyes and you could be eating a crisp Royal Gala. A hint of flat champagne when first opened (too cold, straight from the fridge), it evolved as the apples warmed and added nutmeg, elderflower, and cream. It is an apple strudel in a glass. Definitely worth a try if you used to like Kiwi SB and you think Blue Nun was under-rated.

If you want to test your principles to the limit don’t join Opus Dei, simply have a daughter! My wife is Catholic but, less than impressed with man’s (and, in particular the Church Of Ireland’s) interpretation of God’s way, vowed that our darling would not be forced into a religion. What could go wrong with bringing her up to respect life and people and then allowing her to choose her own religion later in life? In a word, schooling.

There are three to choose from in our area. Two are poor to average, according to OFSTED reports, and one is excellent, but is a Catholic school and realistically requires a baptism. Decision unmade but faith tested is probably the best way to describe the current situation.

How does a winemaker cope with breaking principles every day? How to produce wine that is honest and tasty, yet can make money? I’ve long admired Chilean conglomerate Concha y Toro for making very passable wines en masse and to a decent, very drinkable, quality. Errazuriz is almost there but not quite. Take this Chardonnay, for example. It tastes fruity but a bit tinny and sharp. You can get it for about £8 from Majestic (depending on the prevailing discount scheme), so it falls in the same price bracket as CyT. But, despite the overt apple and pear flavours, this is missing a little je ne sais quoi. Errazuriz is lager in a can, compared to CyT lager in a glass bottle. I’m sure they are catching up, though.

A good test of expensive Burgundy wines (white or red) is whether they go with beans on toast.

I paid Virgin Wines £23.99 for this Pernand-Vergelesses, gulp…. If you join one of the opaque monthly payment schemes, you can make it cheaper. Personally, I’m sick of trading £20 per month for a “discount” on wines, so I have stopped all such accounts (including Virgin) and I am sticking to retailers with simple principles: Join up, look at the website, decide whether to buy, secure in the knowledge that you can nearly always find a competitor price in the event of lingering doubt.

Clearly meeting the expensive moniker, this Vallet Frères is rounder than a grapefruit, zingier than a grapefruit, and fruitier than a grape. This is important because to stand up to the shock and awe of (Branston) baked beans requires a good slug of fruit, gentle tannins and battery like acidity. Tick. Tick. Tick.

BRING OUT THE BRANSTON!

A refreshing white wine from Galicia is no surprise, but a non-vintage one is uncommon. More unusual, but much appreciated, is advice on drinking temperature on the back label. In this case, 10-12 degrees. If you chill your white wines in a typical household fridge, that, means taking it out about an hour before drinking.

Most whites of any substance should be drunk much warmer than frigo. Otherwise differentiating between a Blue Nun and a Bâtard-Montrachet is going to reveal neither the sins of the former, nor the virtues of the latter.

Cumio, made from some blend of Treixadura and Palomino grapes, a refreshing change from tired Albariños from the same north western corner of Spain, is certainly refreshing and light – only 11% alcohol. It is also much more complex and serious than a seaside holiday seafood slurping wine. Possibly a touch over-acidic, but fruity as hell.

If you live near Manchester you can find it at the ever reliable Hanging Ditch for £12.50.

Hosting a dinner party? Got a few sample bottles that you’ve been meaning to taste for ages? Want to follow up an amateurish and inconclusive post on Grand Cru Chablis? A perfect storm for a blind tasting. The brief is simple: take a Chablis Villages, a Premier Cru, and a Grand Cru and see if there is a meaningful, that is to say pecuniarily justified, difference. All wines were from the 2010 vintage.

The bottles, elegantly disguised in blue carrier bags whose former contents were the meat for tonight’s main course, looked like three prisoners in front of a firing squad. As the wino of the party, to be blunt, I could feel the rifles aiming in my direction. I was papping myself. Here are my notes in the order we tasted.

Wine 1: fruity but full bodied,very smooth and tastes well oaked. Not so much flinty steely pebbles as rich plummy apricot and honey. I’m guessing this is the GC
Wine 2: bit steelier but lovely acidity, not oaky. Grassy more than fruity and a little bit of afterburn in the throat. This is probably the Villages.
Wine 3: appley, some flint, quite rounded – I think this is the PC.

Wine 1 in the centre of the podium turned out to be Christian Moreau Chablis Grand Cru Les Clos, a deserved winner but at a price. Imported by Thorman Hunt & Co the RRP is £33.80.

Wine 2, on the right, is Vincent Dampt Chablis and a bronze medal winner which might explain the difficulty in differentiating it from the Premier Cru. Corney & Barrow do this at £13.95.

Wine 3 is the Premier Cru, this one a Christophe & Fils, Fourchaume that is imported by A & B Vintners and the RRP is £14.58.

The main conclusion to be drawn is that a blind tasting livens up a dinner party and focuses people’s attention on the wine. It’s a lot of fun. The consensus was that Grand Cru Chablis clearly stood out and is worth the extra for special occasions. Telling the difference between the Villages and the PC was very difficult and the scores were split, which is reflected in the close price range, to be fair.

So, that may be another amateurish analysis, but at least this time, it’s conclusive.

Drinkable white wine at less than a tenner a bottle is getting harder to find. What if you are sick of Echo Falls, Gallo, and Jacob’s Creek? What is the thinking man’s oenological WAG?

From the country that is rapidly becoming the home of football, white Riojas made from Viura, Malvasia and Verdejo grapes are a good starting point, especially from a price perspective. I visited Marqués de Riscal in 2008 and was impressed by the quality of the prevailing base white wine, especially scoffed with highest quality Pata Negra cured pork. Technically this white is not from Rioja but the nearby Rueda region bit it shares all the typical features of its cousin.

Pleasantly surprised to find it at Majestic for only £6.49 I reached into the fridge for some Sainsbury’s “Taste The Difference” chorizo Ibérico Bellota and unscrewed the cap.

This Verdejo tastes a tad Thai: Dill, lemongrass, ginger and a touch of chilli mark out the corners of the pitch. The goalposts are stacked, not from jumpers, but pink grapefruit husks.

Fruity, fresh and refreshing, it’s no wonder white Riojas are so often seen as house wines in London restaurants and frequently present the best value on the list. If you are the Thai bride of a Spanish footballer playing in England, take note.

Is Godello the new Albariño? Think back 5 years.

Grape from North-Western Spain? Check. Light fruity white wine? Check. Almost unknown in the UK? Check. A tad over-priced? Check. This one cost me £15.99 from Latitude in Leeds. Oof!

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One of the wine guys in Majestic (most of them are pretty knowledgeable in a wonderfully geeky kind of way), recommended this, when I enquired about big Chardonnays. Surely you are just recommending your latest offer? Admittedly buying two bottles to save £12 is a good deal, but it sounds like you are trying to get rid of it. “No I tried some at home last weekend – really fruity, big and scrumptious”.

He meant in a new world style, rather than a classic Burgundy. I’m not sure. The heaviest thing about this wine, apart from the slightly excessive 14% ABV, is the bottle. I know I paid its air freight from Argentina, but delicate petals adorn the inside. It tastes pretty classy. Quite peachy with vanilla and elderflower. The only new world giveaway is a nod towards one of those banana shaped foam sweets from the Pick n Mix.

Regular readers know that I am a big fan of Catena Zapata wines. This one is not cheap at £23, but with a double bottle discount reducing the price to £17, it is well worth a try. Drank mine with a simple pork chop cooked on the skillet at about 12 degrees (the wine not the chop).