The Grapes of Sloth

I drink it, so you don’t have to.

Wine Makes Clearly False Claims on Back Label. November 1, 2009

Bourgogne Hautes-Cotes de Beaune 2006

When tasting a thirteen buck red Burgundy, I tend to reign in my expectations, having quaffed a number of dilute, sappy, dismal examples of the genre in the past. Would this one be different?

If the back label was to be believed, then yes. It proclaimed that “to taste our wine is like living through a dream, like listening to a poem, or perhaps a symphony.” It seemed unlikely to me that drinking this modestly-priced, supermarket Pinot Noir would be like any of these things.

But it is a mistake to prejudge a wine, so let’s taste it and see. And fingers crossed that it’s not like gloomy Emily Dickenson.

*Pierre Ponnelle Bourgogne Hautes-Cotes de Beaune, 2006 -> €13 from Dunnes Stores -> Pale ruby. Developing nose of raspberry, cherry, roses, cloves and mint. Very appealing! Dry with pronounced acidity and very low tannins. Med(-) body with med+ intensity of red, stalky fruit, wood, and rhubarb. Med+ alcohol (it’s actually 13%) and a long, pleasant finish.

Very low levels of symphony and poetry. Respectable med(-) level of dreams, as drinking entire bottle resulted in feelings of sluggishness and fatigue which led, ultimately, to bed and dreams.

Verdict -> Well-made, inexpensive red burgundy. Excellent complexity at this price, in terms of primary fruit aromas and flavours, and secondary, more savoury, ones. Demonstrates good typicity for Pinot Noir too. Could perhaps do with a touch riper fruit on the palate. Pretty good, despite complete absense of sonnets and music. 85/100

Wine Notes -> Like most quality red Burgundy, this one is 100% Pinot Noir. The AC is Hautes-Cotes de Beaune and its vineyards are scattered in the hills above the Cotes d’Or, in France’s Burgundy region. At altitudes of up to 500m, it isn’t always easy to ripen the grapes, though in hot years like 2003 and 2005 these higher areas can shine. The cooler temperatures mean that the Haut-Cotes’ crop is harvested about a week behind the rest of the Cote d’Or. The wines are usually light in character and most of the production is red.

 

Blind Tasting Has Happy Outcome For Once October 31, 2009

http://richardwiseman.files.wordpress.com/2009/05/question-mark3a.jpg

The temptation when writing a tasting note is to describe the characteristics of a theoretical archetype of the wine type you’re drinking, as opposed to what’s actually in the glass. Beaujolais? Guess that’s low tannins and bubblegum. Chardonnay? Yes, I can really get the butter and melon. Pouilly-Fume? Wow, what about that, um, flint.

Tasting blind is more interesting, even if it can result in some awkward unmaskings of wines.

I was down in the Marina Business Park during the week to collect my long-suffering car from the crash repairs shop there after a third driver in as many years bashed into me. By a strange coincidence, Bubble Brothers wine shop is in that very same business park. Never one to ignore life’s signs, I called in to get myself a bottle as a treat. After all, it was Thursday and I haven’t worked full-time in almost a year.

I asked Valerie, Bubble Brothers’ French Commercial Assistant, to pick me out an Old World red or white between €12 and €18. I wanted a classic style, not a Dolcetto-Syrah blend like I saw recently in Tesco. Demonstrating that she’s not the commercial assistant for nothing, she came in at the higher end (€17.50) of that price band. She wrapped it then so I couldn’t tell what it was.

Last night, then, I asked my wife to open it and pour it into my decanter. “You know you can do it yourself without seeing it – just leave the wrapping on and take out the cork?”, she called back, hopefully, from the couch. I explained that even the cork would bear insignia which would identify the wine – don’t they teach her anything in the HSE?

After she had messily sploshed it into the decanter, I noticed a lot of sediment clinging to the sides. So it wasn’t a very young wine, I thought, as sediment takes time to precipitate out. It also ruled out Beaujolais and probably – bearing in mind the relatively modest price – Burgundy too.

In the glass it was a very deep – almost opaque – ruby colour, with no fading towards the rim, suggesting that maybe it wasn’t so old after all – eek! More sediment in the glass and gloopy tears. I was expecting a lot of alcohol, body and flavour. At this early stage, it gave the impression of being from a warm climate.

I said I would come back to mull over the specific aromas on the reasonably intense nose, and I moved onto the palate. Moderately high levels of acid, tannin, body and alcohol. Loads of black fruit, liquorice, aniseed, prune, oak, tobacco, and black tea. Quite Porty, actually! Very long, savoury finish.

By now, I was pretty certain that it was some type of Rhone wine. As the non-drama unfolded, I posted to my Twitter account, “Halfway through, possibly a Vacqueras…”. Vacqueras is a Rhone appellation. The Twitterverse held its collective breath, probably, for my final decision – “I’m guessing, in this order: 1. Rhone, 2. Bordeaux, 3. South of France syrah-heavy blend.”

Bordeaux might seem a strange guess but I did detect some traits of, admittedly very ripe, Cabernet, such as black fruit, high tannins and acidity. In the end, the strong sense of liquorice and high alcohol (14%) swung it for the Rhone. Plus Bordeaux at that price is more likely to be Merlot-based.

Anyway, when the wine revealed itself to be Domaine de l’Ange Cotes du Rhone, I couldn’t have been happier, even going so far as to call myself a “legend” on Twitter. Too far? I don’t think so.

I scored it 89/100 on Corkd, indicating a very good, almost outstanding, wine.

 

Velenosi Pecorino – a Lame Enough Wine October 24, 2009

Pecorino

There is a school of thought that says scoring wines is an inherently pointless activity – wines may evolve over time, variable cork closures mean that wines with the same provenance may differ from each other, and people’s tastes and natural sensitivities vary widely.

Others argue that there is nothing mysterious about wine and, with the correct training, a person may objectively appraise, score and rank it, much as he would a new digital camera, or a woman’s legs.

Here on Grapes of Sloth – the second-most popular wine blog in West Cork after Curious Wines – I stopped giving wines a numerical score back in the summer. The main reason was that I was sick of rating everything 7/10.

Statisticians will be familiar with the bell curve pattern of distribution, where data points are clustered in the centre with fewer instances as you move towards the extremes. Wine quality – for the types of wines that make it to Irish shelves anyway, and at the modest prices that most people will pay – is like this. Most is pretty okay but there are fewer examples of awful or amazing wines.

Anyway, I’m going to give scoring another try. I’m back in WSET lectures again and am supposed to have my Judgment Hat on at all times when tasting. So numbers are back, as are those unsightly plusses + and minuses (-). I’ll be using The Wine Advocate Rating System to score wines. Obviously there is a danger that wine producers will watch carefully to see how I score and then start changing their wine styles to please me, but no system is perfect.

Below is an Italian white I bought in McCabes, Mount Merrion Avenue, Dublin. I used to enjoy shopping there when I lived across from UCD in 2006, but I felt the shop looked tired on my recent visit. The young guy who took my money was surly too, with a stronger aversion to eye contact than many of the autistic children I used to work with in a previous life. He didn’t even say “have a nice day” when I was leaving.

*Velenosi Pecorino, IGT Terre di Chieti (Abruzzo, Italy), 2008 -> About €14 from Mc Cabes -> Pale lemon with a water-white rim. Light aromas of fresh pear, green apple, white peach. Dry, with med+ acidity and med(-) intensity of grapefruit, green apple, asparagus. Med+ body and a med bitter finish. Conclusion -> Simple, one-dimensional, early-drinking white. Slightly dilute, with no real intensity of aroma or flavours. The bitter, vegetal streak will appeal to few. I hereby score this Pecorino 76/100, a score which points to an unremarkable wine of no distinction.

Wine Notes: Abruzzo is the fifth-most productive of Italy’s wine regions. Pecorino is the grape in the featured wine. It has a growing reputation for producing dry, minerally wines, and is a specialty of Abruzzo and neighbouring province, the Marches. Abruzzo’s most well-known wine is the red Montepulciano d’Abruzzo; watch out for the better version from the cooler hills, which has the designation Colline Teramane appended to the DO name on the label.

 

Blend it like Bergheim -> Edelzwicker October 15, 2009

Edelzwicker

For someone who loves Alsatian wine, I drink very little of it. Part of the reason is that – except for dorky connoisseurs – it’s not a terribly fashionable region, and so it is a rare wine shop that has even a passable selection from this dry north-eastern region of France.

Muscat is my favourite Alsatian grape and it is harder again to find. No doubt there are a few knocking around up in Dublin but I am more likely to happen across a unicorn than a good Muscat down here in Cork. Brown Brothers does a widely available Aussie one that I wasn’t massively impressed with when I tried it before; and I know there are a few Muscat-based dessert wines around. But I mean a dry, AC Alsace Muscat.

Edelzwicker

Anyway, I bought an AC Alsace Edelzwicker tonight. Alsatian wines are usually varietal – made up of just one grape which is mentioned prominently on the front label.

Edelzwicker is a blend though. Its German translation means “noble blend” (edelfaule is German for “noble rot”, or botrytis), apparently indicating that one or more of Alsace’s “noble varieties” (Riesling, Muscat, Gewurztraminer, Pinot Gris) make up a portion of the blend. In practice, it’s more likely to be lesser varieties such as Chasselas, a grape so wretched that new plantings of it are banned as the authorities want to phase it out.

Edelzwicker, which need not state a vintage or indicate the percentage grape composition of the blend, is usually the cheapest in a winery’s range of products. It’s for drinking straight off the bottling line too.

A variation you are unlikely to see, though it exists, is the Gentil category of blended Alsatian wine. This one is a “superior” blend, which must legally comprise at least 50% Riesling, Muscat, or Gewurztraminer.

*Laugel, Edelzwicker, AC Alsace, 2007 (€10 / Dunnes) -> Very aromatic with a sherbety nose of icing sugar and tropical fruits. Spritzy on the palate. Lime, lychee, and ginger. Dry, but so fruity it could be mistaken for much sweeter. Quite low in alcohol too at just 11.5%, so a sensible option for diabetics, pregnant women, and those just about to operate heavy machinery.

 

Missed Flight Allows GoS Time to Smell the Roses. October 14, 2009

Le Pas de la Beaume 2008

Week two of this semester’s wine Diploma lectures concerned France’s Rhone Valley. I set my alarm for 6am to catch the 7:40am Dublin flight for the classes. Drab grey light woke me up shortly before 8am and that was the end of that.

My wife urged me to drive up to Dublin but I parried this unsolicited advice by saying that I would spend the day studying the Rhone from my various books and that I had plenty of time to taste the relevant wines before the exam. She countered by wondering aloud why I hadn’t just chosen the less expensive ‘distance version’ of the course if I was so happy to do it all from home. I wasn’t aware that there was a distance option but I didn’t want to lose face by querying this.

Anyway, I got up and ate a leisurely breakfast, after which I took some time to read the papers and enjoy a gentle stroll round the garden while, Saint Francis like, feeding the birds and fish.

Around midday I opened up my Jancis Robinson Oxford Companion to Wine and I spent a half an hour highlighting the usual suspects from the Rhone chapter – two distinct regions, syrah in north, grenache in south, co-ops, mostly red wine, Mistral, pudding stones etc etc. While skimming through it all, I came across what surely must be France’s most unwieldy appellation name – Cotes-du-Rhone-Villages-Saint-Maurice-sur-Eygues. Look familiar from your favourite restaurant’s winelist? Thought not.

Intensive book study out of the way, I was then free to move on to Part B, the wine tasting.

Camille Cayran, Le Pas de la Beaume, AC Cotes du Rhone blanc, 2008 -> €13.50 from Bubble Brothers -> Bright lemon-gold in the glass. Aromatic, with lots of fresh stone fruit character – peach – as well as pear, blossom, and even a trace of eucalyptus. Dry, fresh and full-bodied with more stone fruit, green apple, and bitter apple peel. Slight alcohol burn. Verdict -> Voluptuous, young, simple white. A touch hot (13.5% ABV).

This wine is a blend of Grenache Blanc (65%), Clairette (20%), and Marsanne (15%). Grenache Blanc is France’s fifth-most-planted white grape; after Ugni Blanc (for Cognac), Chardonnay, Semillon (Bordeaux), and Sauvignon Blanc. It’s the white-berried version of regular Grenache and it can make up to 10% of the blend in a red Cotes-du-Rhone-Villages.

Wines made from, or mostly from, Grenache Blanc tend to be supple and full-bodied with high alcohol and lowish acidity. If the vines are not overcropped, the grape can produce flavoursome, aromatic wines.

Because of the risk of flabbiness, it’s often blended with more nervy grapes like Roussanne, Picpoul or Bourboulenc. Clairette fills the role of the sharper variety in the featured wine. In the Rhone, this grape may even be picked early to add extra acidity and pungency to a blend.