a note on notes

I'm a little tasting noted out. It's not just because I'm fighting a cold or that I had the misfortune to sample some of Tesco's more deplorable offerings recently, though the latter certainly gave me reason to pause. It's more the repetition. As a writer I find myself cringing with every mention of 'citrus' or 'forest floor' (the latter is certainly one of my crutches). As a reader I find them increasingly boring. How many times can you type or read 'pencil lead' and 'cassis' before you want to crack open a bottle of Budvar and be done with it?

Tasting notes didn't used to be like this. They weren't a list of other things that the wine in question smelled and tasted like. Instead they were meaningless metaphors about picnicking at Easter or wandering the moors on a midsummer's eve. Immensely fun to read but of no use to anyone who wanted to know what the wine actually tasted like. Like, you know, the consumer. Parker called them all on this, screamed bullshit and did his own thing. So instead the whimsical wine metaphor was replaced with lists of fruits, herbs, condiments and in some cases none of the above (manure). And while more people know what blackcurrant and bramble tastes like than what wandering the moors on a midsummer's eve tastes like, I feel there's a sad rut that that this almost entirely unimportant literary genre has reached. So broken down are wines becoming within these lists of fruit and whatnot that you can't see the forest for the trees. You get a hint as to what a wine tastes like, but not how it tastes. There are exceptions: Jamie Goode's occasional 'complete' tasting notes, in which he describes not only the wine, but the surroundings and situation in minuscule detail are fun and fantastic in how they acknowledge that situation is essential in how a wine tastes. Gary Vaynerchuk's Wine Library TV isn't everyone's cup of tea, but he's done more to explain flavours in wine to the masses than a library full of fruit salad tasting notes. But the vast majority could be cut-and-pasted from one wine to another and no one would notice.

And maybe there's something to that. Perhaps wines just taste too much alike these days and their differences are too minute for the limitations of wine vocabulary. Is the vocabulary itself to blame? Is it too limited? It seems whenever a wine-writer strays back towards the old metaphor-style, they catch all manner of hell. When Andrew Jefford describes flavours as 'helicoptering', people call bullshit. Andrew Jefford is one of the best booze writers in the world. His New France is among my favourite wine tomes. Then he turned around and wrote Peat, Smoke & Spirit, the best whisky book I've ever read. Have we come so far from those whimsical wine-writers of the past that we cannot see some of the positive points of their writing? Is it time for another upheaval within our writing and wine assessment? Michael Broadbent still waxes the whimsy rather beautifully and his notes are a joy to read (though often fill me with a wrathful jealousy) but it's as though he's the exception that proves the rule. Once again I look at Vaynerchuk's style and content to see what might be coming next. He uses an extraordinary number of descriptors, from classic fruit salad to the geological with healthy doses of the flavours of childhood. But he also chucks in the odd metaphor - ugly girlfriends and WWF heroes - a far cry from picnicking at Easter, but people do seem to respond to it.

Of course, that brings up a question of who these tasting notes are for? Are they purely for the consumer? If so, how interested are they, really? When I host tastings for people just getting into wine and guide them through the nose and palate, their first response when I ask what aromas and flavours they get is always 'wine'. Sometimes it's 'red wine' or 'white wine'. Which is fair enough. I sometimes think that there are those in the wine trade who feel that you can't even casually appreciate wine without an understanding of the vocabulary that comes with it. And a lot of wine writers seem to be writing only for their peers and their paycheques. If that's the case, then there's even less of excuse for mundanity and repetitiveness of tasting notes these days. Am I the only one seeing this?

 I write my notes for me, to provide some manner of written record of what I'm tasting. From now on I'm going to stray into the more ambiguous, whimsical and metaphorical because a) it's more fun to write and b) it's more personal for me. That's not to say there won't be a dusting of fruit salad here and there, far from it. There'll just be a touch more garnish to go with it.

William Downie Gippsland Pinot Noir 2008

I found some old notes lurking about and thought I'd share them.

The colour is dark & clear & vibrant.

Great strawberry/cranberry notes on the nose, plus a touch of wild forest fruits as well. Touch of cured meat on the nose to boot.

Beautifully soft on the palate, glycerol coated strawberries, touch of jolly rancher. Rich & moreish. Lacks acidity but makes up for it with massive body. This isn't normally my style of Pinot, but I must confess to being rather smitten.

****
Tasted 14/1/10 at Luvians Bottleshop

Fontodi Case Via Syrah 2004

Opened on a quiet night.

Certainly not showing much age. Youthful, almost opaque. Ruby-rimmed.

Sour cherries with a touch of balsamic on the nose. There's some darker fruit and pepper there as well.

The palate is polished. Sour cherries and ripe blueberry with olive brine and balanced tannins. It's complete and delicious, but it's a little boring. Tastes more of impeccable wine-making than great wine. I've grumbled about this before. It's just the sort of mood I'm in these days.

*** (would be **** but for the price and lack of place)

Tasted 5/10/2010 at Luvians Bottleshop

Secret Wine reboot

Apparently, nobody's guessed the correct wines for the Clair de Lune Secret Wine Ultimate Death Battle (that's what it should be called), so they're re-opening voting. Interesting. I did have a couple of alternative choices scribbled on a stickie lurking here on my desktop somewhere.

My original guesses were
079: Gigondas
390: Cornas
714: Chateauneuf-du-Pape with some age on it - 2004?

My original notes are here.

Shame they can't send another three bottles; it would be interesting to re-taste the wines.

Chapoutier Les Varonniers Crozes Ermitage 2004

Busy Saturdays sometimes inspire a touch of decadence.


Pale, with quite a lot of maturity on the rim (though no amber) - it looks almost Burgundian.

Forest fruit & forest floor with hints of wild mushrooms - ceps? Or are they just on my brain? It's heady, intense, brambly, perfumed and fun to sniff.

Briars and brambles on the palate, with sweet dust and black olive tapenade. The finish shows off light back pepper. Rustic and perfumed all at once, with great grip. There's rusticity and elegance that great Syrah shows with aplomb. All-in-all, it's a light wine, lighter than you'd expect, and possibly the better for it. It also tastes younger than it looks, which is neither here nor there, though it suggests you should drink it sooner rather than later.

****
Tasted 2/10/2010 at Luvians Bottleshop

Huet Vouvray Le Mont Sec 1995

There are aspects of working and living here that I would have trouble trading. A couple of days ago, one of my bosses brought a paper bag full of fresh ceps and a few chanterelles. I love wild mushrooms. I made a risotto and chose a wine that I thought would be ideal.

Golden and aged, with depth and brilliance and some edges of green.

Beeswax pervades on the nose, coating grist and porridge that slowly turn to roasted limes. It's quite heady and mature with an enticing savoury-ness. The odd sniff shows of a touch of mint. It takes awhile to get to this. I plead patience. It needs to breathe a wee bit. There's a touch of mustiness and age that disappears after a bit of air.

I love old Chenin Blanc. The palate is remarkably textured - rich, honey-roasted limes with rolled oats and demerara sugar. The structure comes from an acidity that begins subtly and then asserts itself on the finish. All the flavour seems to radiate from it. It reminds me a touch of a good old dry oloroso or palo cortado in that there's always a suggestion of sweetness that comes from the richness and honeyed aspects of both the nose and the start of the palate but then there's no sweetness on the finish. It's gloriously dry and lengthy, and immensely versatile with all manner of food. It was perfect with the risotto.

*****
Tasted 1/10/2010 at Shorehead

Grand-Puy Ducasse 2000

Classed-growth claret from a stellar vintage all in the name of staff training? Sign me up.

Looking perhaps a little old for its age - the ruby rim looks on the verge of rusting. The clarity's a bit off too - slightly smoked.

Pulped stone fruit on the nose - cassis edged plum with a meaty core. A little mossy.

Very soft. The acidity is more vibrant than I expected, drawing back the tannins and giving the fruit more crunchiness than I expected from the nose. Those tannins are soft, brushing gently on the tongue. There's not a huge amount of complexity, but it's a very sensual drop. Drink now, with food. Not the best 2000 I've ever had but good value and incredibly pleasant.

***
Tasted 30/9/2010 at Luvians Bottleshop

first stew of the season with two wines

Autumn is a good time of year for cooking. It's probably my favourite, as it's an excuse to get stuck into proper, rib-sticking comfort food. The first stew of the season was venison, slow-cooked in port with onions, mushrooms, sweet potatoes and parsnips. It was ridiculously rich and while it probably needed another half hour or so, we were hungry and the odd chewy bit of meat was a small price to pay.

Passadouro 2006

Opaque purple, dark core. I need to buy some new candles as these energy saver bulbs are rubbish for determining the subtleties of wine tint.

Nose is focused, intense dark bramble fruit wrapped in cocoa powder and nutmeg. There's almost a touch of mulling spice to it.

Rustic but focused - you sip it and there's an impressive acidity balanced with that crazy cocoa, nutmeg and black tea tannin. It's tight. Crushing your tongue against the roof of your mouth and squeezing brings out a good juiciness, a fruit focus that can be hard to notice with all those brambly, underbrush-like tannins. It comes out more with the stew, that dark juicy fruit of brambles edged with raspberries. Very Portuguese.

****

Consolation 'The Dog Strangler' Mourvedre Collioure Rouge 2008

Nicely dark. Good brilliance. Can't really tell in my dining room. *jots down 'candles' on an imaginary shopping list*

Nose is intense blueberry compote, plum and liquorice. Heady and perfumed with surprising floral edges. There is a darkness as well.

Have you ever bitten into a properly ripe mourvedre grape? The skins are thick, chewy and full of tannin - they burst with juice - blueberries, honey and plum-like juice. This wine tastes just like biting into a ripe mourvedre grape. The tannins are thick, dusty and a touch sweet; they hit first and then comes this compote fruit that manages at once to be dark berry and lightly honeyed all at once. It's all incredibly rounded and textured, hitting every part of the mouth with grip and nuance. Full disclosure: I help at this winery during vintage and have yet to meet one of their wines that I haven't liked. 

*****

Tasted at Shorehead 27/9/2010

some random wine thoughts

No tasting notes today, just a few random thoughts regarding the world of wine, the wine trade and such.

• Fine wine prices are stupid, for the most part. Quantities are such that deep-pocketed investors can drive the value up by simply scooping up more of their favourite tipple. It doesn't need to be much. Just a case or two here and there and they watch the remaining stock jump 20% on wine-searcher or live-ex in the space of a week. I cannot for a moment believe that anyone who does this does it for a love of wine.
• I find the Rodenstock fake debacle incredibly amusing. There is something deeply satisfying and iconoclastic about the whole thing. The indictments of both Broadbent and Parker as a result goes further to prove that expertise in wine has its limits and that no opinion is categorical.
• Bordeaux bores me more and more every year. It also saddens me. I hesitate to revisit even Chateau that I've loved in the past as the combination of hot years and modern wine-making techniques suggest they'll probably taste the same as every other fucking Chateau in the same league. I wish wine writers would call them out more on this. 
• I've said it before and I'll say it again: I'd rather taste an interesting wine than a good wine. This makes my tasting notes increasingly useless to the average consumer. I'm ok with that.
• I find it really difficult to post notes for the dreadful wines I taste. I feel I should. I feel that wine-making is such an effort that to undertake that producing some of the lousy wines I've sifted through of late is a waste of time. And the producers that pump this stuff out by the super-tanker load should be named and shamed. 
• Organic wines ≠ good wines. There are exceptions, but shit wine is shit wine no matter how it's produced. If you're organic and still produce dreadful wine, you should grub up your vines and plant an orchard. 
• While I feel that there should be research put into sulphur alternatives, most of the sans sulphite crowd are ill-informed fear-mongering hippy reactionaries with little-to-no concept of wine or how it's made. A 50€ bottle of re-fermenting Le Caset des Mailloles that tasted more like Devon Scrumpy than Collioure Blanc further cemented this view. 
• My tasting notes have been shoddy of late. Apologies.

So there you go. 

quality assessment: two chardonnays

So, I'm doing the same again but with a couple of chardonnays. This time the entry level wine is Australian and the more expensive is French. I chose it this way due to the buying habits of our customers. If they're buying cheaper whites, they tend to go New World. If they splash out, they tend to go Old World. There's a debate as to the reasons for that - several, actually - that I'm not going to get into at the moment. I will say that those who have shouted about the death of French wine for the last two decades will go hoarse long before it's anywhere near the truth.

Winding Road Chardonnay 2009 (South East Australia £8.99)

Green and silver colour - kind of Chablis-like.

Lime citrus and a touch of peach fuzz on the nose. There's also a whiff of cheesiness and something a bit earthy about it all.

Nice acidity on the palate gives it good structure. There a lees-y, oak-chip-y creaminess to it that provides nice mouthfeel. There's something very 'made' about this wine, which is to be expected at the price, but it seems well made. It's not overly oaked and there's no bucket of residual sugar lurking on the finish. It's slightly anonymous, but that is in part because there's little really wrong with it. Which, sadly, makes it boring.

**1/2

Pouilly-Fuissé "La Frérie" 2006 JP & M Auvigue (£23.49)

I think there's something wrong with the lights in the shop. This looks pretty much the same as the Winding Road, except it's more gold and less silver.

Exotic white stone fruit on the nose with spice and pineapple as well. A wee touch of citrus and vanilla cream rises up towards the end. This wee village in the Macon has become legendary for boasting the sexiest white Burgundies south of the Cote d'Or. Sometimes they're downright slutty. This is rather sexy but isn't showing too much leg.

Delicious on the palate - fleshy, textured fruit with oak influence but never tasting of oak. Rich and filling mouthfeel that delivers pineapple and nectarine with hints of lime on the edge, orange flower water and butter-soaked wild mushrooms that soften to a long, gentle finish. I even detect a bit of minerality underneath all that fruit. Sexy stuff. Roast chicken with a wild mushroom broth would be a nice pairing, so would scallops seared in good butter with a blood orange reduction.

**** 1/2
This is much better that the last time I had it.

Tasted 23/9/2010 at Luvians Bottleshop


These two tastings have been fun and enlightening. Next time I'm going to test the staff blind on the wines and see if they can tell me which is the finer bottle. It's interesting that both the more expensive wines showed their merit. Part of me hoped for the opposite, just to shake things up a bit.

quality training: two clarets

Sometimes staff training has to be simple: illustrating, taste-wise, the difference between a cheap wine and a not-so-cheap wine. It's important that as a wine merchant you can not only taste that difference but also understand why certain things really do matter, whether it's stricter selection, better viticultural practice, better wine-making, a better vineyard site or all of that and more.

Occasionally the more expensive wine won't be showing as well as it should - maybe it's not the better wine (in which case it should be de-listed immediately); or perhaps the bottle is out of condition or it's going through an awkward phase in its development. The latter happens from to time to time but will never not sound like a lame excuse. The difficulty in explaining the 'awkward phase' to either a customer or a trainee staff member makes it a futile exercise. It also doesn't really matter. If a wine isn't tasting as it should it may as well be corked, whether it's reductive, dumb or simply being awkward.

I've digressed.

We opened two Clarets:

L'Orangerie de Carignan 2007 (£8.99)

Proper claret nose of pencil shavings, a touch of cedar and sawdust with understated red berry fruit. Not quite ripe cassis, though there are darker fruits lurking there.

The palate is a bit taut; not quite as engaging as the nose. The fruit's tight and obscured by the leafy, vegetal edges. The tannins are a bit rough and the finish has a little hint of sucking on pennies. However, in the midst of some proper, rustic food, much of this would be moot - the tannins grip and the fruit comes out a bit. For the money, it's not bad - there are plenty of over-ripe New World wines at the same price that may outshine this at a tasting, but pale at a dinner party.

***

Chateau Potensac 2005 (£24.99)

Ripe cassis and liquorice on the nose. Deep and perfumed, it feels finer to smell, softer and perhaps a little touch of varnish on the end

That ripe cassis mixes with a touch of black cherry and anise. The tannins already seem velvety. This isn't just a better wine, it's a more modern claret. Part of me almost wants some of that graphite and sawdust the L'Orangerie boasted. That part of me is easily ignored as this is an easy wine to enjoy and pour another glass. The modernity is somewhat upsetting however, not because I begrudge oak and prosperity and things that taste good, but because I like wine that tastes of where it's from. This is not as obviously claret as the cheaper, and somewhat meaner, bottle. It is really rather delicious though and it is worth the twenty-five quid. But it's also a touch anonymous. And for a house like this, that is a sad thing.

***(*?)

Both tasted 21/9/2010 at Luvians Bottleshop

top-secret-tasting

UPDATED - I've put my original votes in now.

I was going to wait a little longer, but how long can a wine geek can leave three anonymous bottles untouched? Less than 24 hours, it would seem.

Before I start - I've not opened the wines yet - I should probably tell everyone how cool I think this whole thing is: it is very cool. Even if it is a ridiculously elaborate marketing exercise and the wines turn out to be terrible, I will think of the folly fondly. It not only recognises the importance of new media formats, it tips its cap to them and provides us with an opportunity to do something we love: taste wine. Taste wine, talk about it, argue about it, discuss it and guess. The fact that there are prizes involved is incidental (though I would be delighted to win a €1000 wine trip for two). No matter how cynical their motivation, it's groovy to be a part of it.

I'll post my guesses once the competition closes, on the 27th of September.

Wine - 079 -

Colour: Dark, deep, purple with red edges - quite viscous. I thought it was Banyuls initially.

Nose: Sweet plums and honey with a bit of alcohol hit.

Palate: Quite big, dark forest fruit with bramble bush and quite rounded finish. There's a bit of alcohol to it as well and a bit of a pebbly mouthfeel.

What I think it is: Gigondas - it's the pebbles.

Wine - 390 -

Colour: More purple with an even thinner rim. It goes straight to the core in little time and that core is very dark.

Nose: Blueberries with a touch of smoked bacon and is there some black olive there? Touch of varnish.

Palate: Similar tannin structure to 079 but with more acidity and therefore more linear structure. The sweetness and ripeness of the blueberry are compelling and more-ish. The finish sees a bit more of that black olive from the nose coming through.

What I think it is: Cornas - that's definitely syrah, or mostly syrah...

Wine - 714 -

Colour: The lightest of the three, with more ruby than purple tints. Still quite dark, though.

Nose: Once again, there's that sweet, Banyuls-like dark fruit and wild honey comb to kick things off. It's the least defined on the nose. There's still a bit of booziness though.

Palate: This is also the oldest on the palate - the tannins are softer and it's a gentler run all-round. The fruit's a touched stewed and compote-y, with gentle though rich secondaries of fruit bush, the starts of saddle leather and a touch of dry anise. Nice length

What I think it is: old Chateauneuf-du-Pape - this one required no pause for consideration.

Overall, the quality is impressive. I think the wines are forward and would say the first two are either 07s or 09s as the fruit is there, but those light violet notes I normally associate with the region (that I'm guessing it is) are nowhere to be seen (or smelled, or tasted), so I'm assuming it's a ripe vintage. They all sit comfortably in the £10-£20 range, though there is a touch of modernity to them. I suspect they come from one producer as there seems to be a bit of a recurring theme. Oh well, my votes are cast and we'll see.

The wines were far better than expected. This was fun.

Tasted 22/9/2010 at Luvians Bottleshop

so, what's the secret?

On a whim, I've entered a competition. There's very little to it; I registered here and they sent me three bottles of blind wine to sample. The bottles are numbered. I need to taste them and then vote on what appellation in France I think they represent. They've not been opened yet; they're sitting on the counter in the shop. All three are red and all three are enclosed in Burgundy-shaped bottles. Whether this is of any consequence is a mystery. I don't know if the wines were specifically bottled in the same shape for the sake of anonymity or not. If they were, then one of the wines may well be a Bordeaux, or an Alsace Pinot Noir. If not, then they can be neither. There are 84 other bloggers competing and I've no idea if there are any other rules. I would normally blind taste with a few friends - does this contravene the competition? Not a clue. In any case, I'll blog the tasting when it happens, and I may even video it. You never know. Votes have to be in by the 27th of September.

I also just found a ton of notes to post, so there'll be some fairly groovy wines listed in the near future. Apologies for the intermittency, but I'm back again. Thanks for reading.

an interview with Richard Geoffroy, chef de cave at Dom Perignon

The following is an interview I conducted a few months ago with Richard Geoffroy, the winemaker for Dom Perignon. The wines were exceptional and the chat illuminating. This was conducted as a joint-blog effort and is also available at The Tasting Note.

His enthusiasm and the vigour with which he embraces the responsibility that comes with guiding so iconic a wine is admirable. He was a joy to chat with, and I look forward to more opportunities to discuss some of the topics we touched upon.

Your family made wine in the Cote des Blancs for several generations, but you trained originally as a doctor – was there a comfort going back?

Medicine, for me, was the way of being rebellious. It sounds funny, but it was my way of making it away from something all too predictable. I felt that I had to prove to my friends and family that I could make it on my own. And once I’d made it, I started thinking ‘well, so what’ and so the attraction back to my roots was too strong and my belief is that when you come from the land, you can deny it and think you can leave, but no – you belong. I’m from a family of farmers; I’m a farmer. Even when I’m an MD, I’m a farmer. And I’m glad I came back. I’m happier as a person, and I have a greater sense of achievement in my wine making.

It is often forgotten, particularly in a setting like this (the Scottish launch of Dom Pérignon Œnothèque Rosé at the Balmoral Hotel, Edinburgh) that what we make and sell is actually an agricultural product

You are so right. I keep telling our marketing and business people “it all depends on the elements”. You’ve got to be ambitious in business, and ambition is fine, but you have to remain humble at the same time, to know where you place yourself in the picture with nature otherwise, one day, you are in trouble. It is an element of wisdom in a way. And never to overdo things, trying too hard.

Do you find that in your role, not as a winemaker but as, occasionally, a brand ambassador?

Its funny because I don’t think this way. It is like in sport, if you start thinking “I’m Michael Schumacher”, you don’t think of the status you are at, or what you have achieved: you are only trying to make your own thing. It is the best way to have little pressure. I’m afraid of pressure, pressure is always bad because it makes you compromise or not be yourself.

It’s probably why the wines remain exceptional vintage after vintage…

Voila, Voila, Voila. It gets back to my point about not trying too hard, when you pretend… no, no. You’ve got to be yourself. I’m very suspicious of flattery, I’m uneasy with flattery and particularly when it is undeserved.

You said that your favourite vintage was always the most challenging one. You had a few landmark vintages after your first in 1990, and I’ve spoken to winemakers who say the great vintages are always the most challenging because nature is giving you a lot and they want to hold back…

Yes, you have a point because when you are given so much you had better be up to it, so it is a more personal challenge. But in the end I’m more after the technically challenging years like 1980, which I didn’t make but my predecessor did, whenever I taste it I say ‘wow’ – it is alien, it comes from Mars! For me this wine means more than the greater vintages. We released ’80 as an Œnothèque, it was my decision, and I gave it justice, because many people had been critical of it in the first place, and then when it was an Œnothèque they said “the wine is great” and maybe they were influenced in the first place by the pedigree of the vintage which was nothing in France, and I was so happy to give my predecessor justice!

1996 was challenging, there were issues with oxidisation with the Pinot Noir, it was hard to overcome that problem and I think many people failed in ’96 because of that.

You’ve just launched the 1990 Œnothèque Rosé, which was disgorged in 2007. It strikes me that there had to be a very early decision made to release this wine. Was it a few years prior to the disgorgement or was there always a plan to release an Œnothèque Rose?

We had been wanting to do one for a long time, we decided it would be 1990 and I started tasting it on a regular basis and charting its progress, and I could anticipate that the wine would be ready in one or two years and then we disgorged the entire release at once. So the second release will be from that initial disgorgement. The remaining 1990 remains on the lees for a third release. So by tasting twice a year, you see the whole thing moving along.

The British palate likes older champagne, and I was wondering if your personal preference was for an older wine or do you prefer them younger?

I’m not with the British palate; it’s not what I’m really after. I’m after what Dom Pérignon Œnothèque is: so intense but yet little fat and not tired at all. I’m at a point where I cannot separate personal taste and my job at Dom Pérignon. They became so intimate and I don’t have the possibility of distancing myself from my job.

If you are to have a glass of something outside of Champagne, what would it be?

As we speak, it would be Burgundy or Port. I love Port, I have a fascination for port. It is about as rustic and sophisticated as can be! There is a tension. Port is a paradox and I love it. And burgundy, something that is so close to my own world, and it gives a mirror image. It’s intriguing!

Do you see yourself as a caretaker of the Dom Pérignon house or as more proactive, as a builder?

A builder. I’m not good at caretaking. A journalist asked me yesterday ‘how am I maintaining the style?’ – I’m not in maintenance you know, I keep pushing. Consistency is terrible and my brief isnot make it consistent. It is push push push. The chairman of Dom Pérignon allows me to be independent enough; I’m running my business within the business (of LVMH); I’m an entrepreneur. Mark my words, in the coming years there are going to be quite a few stunning things to come… Dom Pérignon doesn’t have to be obsessed with ratings; it is about the quality of the comments. And when I’m asked about the price (of Dom Pérignon ) I say that I have to factor in the vintages that we don’t declare.

Are the vintages you don’t declare some of the more challenging? How early into the process do you realise that it just isn’t worthy of a vintage?

Not too early, I don’t want to have preconceived ideas at picking or vinification, I never comment on the vintage at the time, I wait after several rounds of tasting individual components before I comment, and yet I keep going and blending even in the lousier years, I go to the final blend. I never give up before hand and never have preconceived ideas. It is something I learned in medicine. In medicine you have someone injured coming into emergency, if it bleeds from here (points to his head), the scalp (bleeding) is very spectacular but there could be internal bleeding. It is so easy to be influenced by what you see, but without looking. Stay calm, in control.

Which vintage has proven most challenging for you?

In my time, 1996, because of the highly oxidisable pinot noir. There was a major issue of dehydration in the berries. It concentrated the acidity. It was very difficult to balance the blend, and 2003 is another challenging year because of the heat, which can make the wines very forward, but there were ways of going round the problem.

You’ve done more in the last 20 years at Dom Pérignon than had been done since the forties, and even though the range has expanded, it is a very simple and logical expansion

Its very simple, its very logical. Everyone comes up with a need for a ‘range’, but I don’t speak of a ‘range’ at Dom Pérignon. I don’t like the word range. Its simple, there are two blends and we will never extend it outside the two blends.

Thanks both to Dr Geoffroy for speaking and to Kirsty Duncanson and the team from LVMH for facilitating everything.

Sancerre Le Perrier de la Chapelle Domaine Bailly-Reverdy et Fils 2008

Sancerre is a bit of a minefield and my days as a sommelier put me off it for awhile. There were too many bottles of boring, by-the-numbers dross sent as samples and too often they were overpriced. Producers are spoiled. AOC Sancerre gets €5 per litre just for the name. Bulk-buyers snap it up and the number of smaller, more idiosyncratic producers is shrinking. Wines from the latter are getting more and more expensive. Sigh. I was also, to be honest, sick of Sauvignon Blanc.

So when this turned up at under £20 retail, I thought it was worth a taste.

Bright silver with edges of gold and pale honey.

Subtle grassiness on the nose, with fresh lemon zest and a hint of honeysuckle. Maybe even a touch of fleshy white stone fruit.

Nicely bright on the palate. Bracing acidity frames both the lemon and white fruits whilst leading to a gripping mineral finish. All the grassiness sticks to the edges - this is no cat's pee or gooseberry nonsense but proper crisp, refreshing Sancerre. There's a richness that rises right at the end, giving great weight. It wants for a good linguine vongole with parsley and lemon butter, or perhaps a good chevre with walnut oil dressing. Fantastic summer wine.

****

Tasted 2/8/2010 at Luvians Bottleshop

Puligny-Montrachet Domaine Ramonet 2007

I've got a load of tasting notes to upload but there doesn't seem to be any time these days. I'm just back from an amazing jaunt to Northern California and work and life are all catching up with me. So on a quiet afternoon in the midst of Open madness, we decided to taste something nice.

Already there is depth to the gold, with edges of silver and lively brilliance.

Warm on the nose. Vanilla, toffee apple and chantilly cream wrapped around melon and pineapple fruit with a dusting of smoke.

Rich and mouth-filling on the palate. It develops from the centre of the tongue all the way out to the nooks and crannies. Nice balance between the wood and the fruit with a sharp pull of acidity from the very start that carries it all to the long finish. There's citrus and roasted melon fruit wrapped around that pull and then the faint echo of oak and toast. More air and the minerality begins to present itself. Complex stuff, though perhaps a little disjointed due to its youth (or vintage), but a really lovely drop and these remain the best '07 white Burgundies I've tasted.

****(*?)

Tasted at Luvians Bottleshop 18 July 2010

Yarra Yering Dry Red Wine No. 5, 2006

My introduction to the wines of Yarra Yering was a blurry one. I was terribly hungover and late for lunch with the winemaker. My eyes stung and my mouth tasted of paste. I showed up at a nice restaurant looking a little underdressed. The restaurant's wine buyer looked disapprovingly through his ultra-fashionable specs while the importer smiled knowingly at me. The winemaker was Australian, so he didn't really seem to give a shit. It took several glasses of fizzy water before I felt able to hold my own in conversation. A few pieces of bread and then I could ask questions. The wines blew me away. We tasted a bunch. Complex, understated, balanced. I felt too dreadful to take notes that day but have pursued the wines at every opportunity since.

So today's a rainy day and a perfect one to open one of the wines I didn't try that hazy day two years ago. This is a Touriga Nacional. I've never tried a Touriga Nacional from Australia. Until now, that is.

Deep with an odd hint of rust - reminiscent of Nebbiolo or a deep Pinot Noir.

Earthy and savoury on the nose, dark spicy brambly fruit with forest floor notes, cedar and cinammon with a hint of blood.

Lovely poise on the palate. Soft spice wrapped around slightly sour red and black berries. This is elegant and perfumed with just a touch of darkness on the finish. There is juicy red fruit acidity that runs through from start to the lingering end, providing lovely structure.

This is not the wine I expected, though I expected it to be good. This is elegant, feminine and really rather stunning.

*****

Tasted at Luvians Bottleshop 8/6/2010

Pascal Bellier Cheverny 2008

I know nothing about this wine. I know scraps and bits and pieces about Cheverny, a Loire Valley appellation, but absolutely nothing about the grower. Apparently this is a blend of 80% Sauvignon Blanc and 20% Chardonnay.

Just thought I'd crack open something a little different.

Silver-lined gold - quite pale and youthful.

The nose is gooseberry grass and oatmeal with hints of passion fruit and grapefruit.

Quite green on the palate, but not in a bad way. Mouth-feel is mealy and gristy, with that oaty texture coming through. It serves to bring out some of the juiciness. Some of the fruit and phenolics seem kind of all over the place. Good minerality though. I think it probably needs food - lemon roast chicken or maybe BBQ'd trout with dill and lime. I don't have either of those right now. Pleasant though.

***

Tasted 16 May 2010 at Luvians Bottleshop

Coume del Mas Banyuls Quintessence 2007

I help at this winery, so my banter is not by any means objective, nor should it be taken as such. Doesn't really matter, as the wines are ace whether I like them or not.

Dark, purple and broody. Kind of like Barney's evil twin, who happens to be a velociraptor.

Sweet wild herbs and honeysuckle on the nose with a touch of smokey meatiness. Bramble and blueberry compote fruit as well.

Philippe, the winemaker, makes this wine as he would a red, for the most part. He waits until the very last minute to fortify and considers it important that it should have as much character and structure as one of his dry wines. The fruit is incredibly pure - blackberry and blueberry so ripe they burst, sat on a bed of sweet wild rosemary with a dusty forest floor. That honeysuckle sweetness comes through on the mid-palate with savoury hints throughout. All the while there a gentle tannin edge that provides structure and depth to the texture. Long and lingering on the finish.

*****

Tasted loads, but most recently 16 May 2010 at Luvians Bottleshop

Vosne Romanée 2006 Domaine Michel Gros

Sometimes I prefer interesting to delicious.

Young colour. Burgundian translucency but still rather intense. Hints of violet among the Burgundy.

The nose hints of what to come. Sour, crunchy fruit with notes of pith and the sense of something damp. Any perfumed notes are tertiary - the primary aromas hit with such focus. They linger.

The palate is a wine geek's conversation. Structure-wise, it's like a tightly-woven rope pulled taut. That crunchy red fruit acidity - cranberries, cherries, raspberries and cherry stones tied tight, locked in with wet tea leaves, damp rope and river pebbles. Within that there's underlying minerality, humming through from the mid palate to the finish. This is savoury Burgundy, intense to taste without the payoff of sweet fruit. It's also very young. I can see leathery, dried meat notes in its future. I can see it going brilliantly with venison steaks both now and then. It's going to be gamey, once that crunchy fruit softens up and cures the leatheriness.

Tasting it the next afternoon, with a day's opening, some of that intensity had softened but it was by no means tired. A touch of dry oak came out on the finish.

This was a good snapshot wine. There's so much intensity and yet so much more to come. Swirling a glass with a couple of friends in the trade was a joy. We chatted about it for longer than we should have. It's remarkably honest and gives you a lot to talk about.

***(**)

Tasted 15 & 16 May, 2010 at Luvians Bottleshop

Domaine Fourrier Morey-St Denis Clos Solon Vielles Vignes 2002

About six years ago a friend's girlfriend wanted a few of us to design a cellar for her father. Not in the architectural sense, but in the wine sense. Her dad was fairly minted and so I was thinking that their entry level Burgundies should be classy, domaine-bottled village stuff that hovered between twenty and thirty quid. In 2004 that was not as much of a challenge as it is today. I bought this bottle to taste as an example of what we were looking at for the Burgundian section of his lair. Fourrier's reputation, value and - most importantly - quality, would set the tone for the cellar.

Then the friend broke up with the girlfriend.

And so the bottle sat in the cellar, kind of an odd one out on the rack. I've pulled it out several times over the last six years, contemplating it, appreciating the old-school label, absent-mindedly rolling my thumb over the vintage, then sliding it back into the rack and grabbing something else. I wanted to exhibit a modicum of patience.

So we opened it a little over a week ago. It had been a bit of a Pinot evening (no more notes I'm afraid).

Vibrant, intense and brilliant - catches the candlelight and seems to to carry it's own light. What Burgundy should look like.

Mute on the nose to start, but comes out with air and a bit of warmth (the cellar's rather chilly at the moment). Piercing, crunchy red fruits and dark perfume come out with air.

The intensity of the palate is impressive. It hums with energy. Bright, brilliant red fruits clinging to a remarkably structured acidity. Incredibly youthful, savoury finish with a layered, flinty minerality. Soft and lifting on the finish. This is brilliant.

****(*)

Tasted at Naughton 1/5/2010

Billecart-Salmon Cuvée Nicolas François Billecart 1996

An all-too rare evening of wine and friends found some nice bottles opened, good chat and a fair few laughs.

Hints of brass but still youthful, excitable in the glass. Speedy bubbles.

Fresh yeast, crushed oyster shells and lemon rind. Zingy with hints of biscuit and very full on the nose.

More-ish palate. Simple but well-structured. Rich & supple with sweet strawberry fruit and marzipan mouthfeel that comes through as the fruit subsides. I don't think this will pick up any great complexity but it's certainly a lovely drop now, showing that nice balance of a touch maturity combined juicy freshness.

****

Tasted at Naughton 1/5/2010

Ramonet Chassagne-Montrachet 2007

My consumption of fine white wine was below average last year. One of my resolutions for 2010 has been to address this issue.

There's silver and white gold bursting with brightness and brilliance. It lifts the light.

White flowers, chantilly cream, heather honey and barley all come through on the nose, underlined by a subtle citrus zing. There's honeydew melon there too. It suggests weight - it fills the nostrils: heady.

Compelling brightness on the palate - it lifts from the very start. Chantilly cream with melons & candied lemons, barley grist and soft, caressing mouthfeel. The length is exceptional. Remarkably complete considering its youth. That brilliance from the colour somehow comes through to the palate - it's bright and moreish. It's also got that wonderful decadence of good white Burgundy while never for a second seeming overweight or flabby. This is structured and precise. Fantastic wine with a good future.

****(*)

Tasted 20/3/2010 at Luvians Bottleshop

Le Cigare Volant 2004

I remember the first time I read about Randall Grahm. I think he was recounting an Ostertag Riesling and, if I recall correctly, he described it as 'shaking hands with a mountain.' I could do a quick search and verify this, but I prefer the memory - I like that it's a touch vague and that I can't recall when or where I saw the article in the first place. I assume I read it around 2002. I've no idea when the incident took place, though I'm tempted to say early nineties. I don't mind the inaccuracy (and don't think anyone else will) as the time and place weren't really that important. What was important was reading about a Californian wine-maker talking about terroir. What was important was that 'shaking hands with a mountain' is still the best description of experiencing terroir I've ever read. Oddly, I didn't really get into his wines until some time after that. The only other wine of his that I've reviewed is here. I don't know why it's taken so long for me to give his flagship red the attention it deserves, but there you go. It's been a long month and I've tasted a lot of wine under 'tasting' conditions - this was opened after a long day tasting and enjoyed with a meal, as wine should be.

Violet and ruby run from the rim to the core. Still youthful without being foreboding. Nice brilliance in the light.

Savoury nose - hickory smoke with plums and blueberries, a touch of spearmint and bramble. Soft floral notes on the edges.

This is soft, gentle and deliciously understated. Quite fleshy plum and blueberry fruits on the palate, surrounded by that slightly smokey, savoury edge. Wild herbs arrive after the smokey notes and it's all balanced by a brilliant mid-mouth black olive brine acidity that I'm going to say is coming from the 35% Syrah in the blend. I may be wrong, but that's my guess. Long and lingering on the finish while being tremendously more-ish. You want another sip before you've finished tasting the last. Bravo. This is cracking stuff and just what I needed coming off a long day and the tail end of a cold.

*****

Tasted 1/3/2010 at Shorehead

Capezzana Ghiaie Della Furba IGT 1999

Dipping a toe back into wine-merchanting has its ups and downs. One of the better 'ups' as it were is finding an old vintage kicking about, a bottle hidden or obscured by others on the shelves or in the odd mixed case out it the stores. It's even better if it's from a cracking year. I found this bottle while reorganising the Italian shelves, hidden among newer vintages. It's a fairly typical Bordeaux blend with a bit of Syrah thrown in for measure. Wines like this tend to let you know they're Italian before their varietal character appears.

Blood ruby red on the edges. Possibly some rust beginning to appear.

The nose is soft at first - cherries and sweet dust, like a mahogany clad office somewhere hot. Then the cherries give a bit of bite. Black cherries, not red cherries.

This is a serious wine, but the there's still a nice rusticity to the palate. Big ripe and sour black cherries with a touch of compote - there's good, classic dustiness and its all held together with sinewy, binding acidity that makes me wish I had some good food to go with it. The fruit is cherry, though the texture reminds me of briars. Really enjoying this. The length is nice. Not too showy or overdone. Yum.

****(*?)

This may well be a 5 star wine, but I'm worried I'm being too nice. At the same time, I don't want to deprive it. So there's a question mark. Oh well.

Tasted 17/2/10 at Luvians Bottleshop

Chassagne-Montrachet 1er Cru Les Chenevottes 2002 Michel Colin-Deléger & Fils

Well, we finished the Bonnes Mares 2002, so we thought we'd open something white from the same vintage. Long live Sunday Decadence.

Deep gold with hints of greenish brass. Nice brilliance.

Hot buttered honey, fresh rising dough, quince, heather with some sweet wild ceps. There's a nutty, marzipan-i-ness to it as well. Perhaps a whiff of pineapple.

Ridiculously juicy on the palate - layered quince, pineapple and perhaps a touch of guava with beeswax, manuka & heather honey and creamy butter. The texture is a touch gristy and gripping, though the oak is soft and never cloying. Again, there's that tang of fresh rising dough - maybe sourdough. It's really cracking stuff. Quite a lingering finish.

Proper white Burgundy may well be my dessert island wine.

****

Tasted fighting January Sunday boredom 24/1/10 at Luvians Bottleshop

Bonnes Mares Grand Cru 2002 Domaine Louis Jadot

A decadent Sunday. We decided to buy something nice to eat and something nice to drink. Not a bad day at work.

Intense, brilliant dark Burgundy. Shines with the light.

The nose is dark black cherry with pulped forest fruit and edges of floral perfume (rose petals?). Incredibly sweet and heady.

The palate is proper masculine Burgundy - cherries squashed in a velvet glove with darker notes of wild herbs, forest floor and a bit of liquorice. Having some artisan and farmhouse cheeses which brings out that velvet tannic grip as well some more of the sweetness of fruit. Incredibly pure and structured. Possibly a little short on the finish but it's forgiven. It's nice that you can still find quality Burgundy at relatively good value.

****

Tasted 24/1/10 at Luvians Bottleshop

Chateau Calon Ségur 2003

Incredibly dark. Impenetrable. I'm almost surprised the tint is ruby and not purple.

Heady & deep on the nose. Woodlands with cassis, sweet darker fruits and strangely reminiscent of bonfires with a hint of copper. That bonfire & copper softens into whiffs of butterscotch with a bit of toffee.

Young, brash and overwhelming on the palate. It's huge, glycerol-y and utterly closed at the moment. Right now it's simply the sensation of an immense wine with some surprisingly mild tannins on the finish. With coaxing some of that sweet forest fruit begins to appear and the grip gains firmness, the tannins a touch more rasping. It's big but gently so. Soft. Needs a decade, possibly more.

**(**)

Tasted 21/1/10 at Luvians Bottleshop

comparative tasting part 3: Bordeaux Blends

Chateau des Trois Chardons 2005

Deep purple with flecks of ruby.

Very tight on the nose - boot polish and liquorice with candied cassis & violets coming through after a little coaxing.

So young on the palate, but with fantastic structure and texture. The fruit takes a wee while to come through, but when it does it's beautifully integrated. Incredibly tight-knit stuff and surprisingly drinkable now in spite of it. The balance is really impressive. Classic stuff.

***(**)

Ridge Santa Cruz Mountains 2005

Incredibly deep purple - intense and brooding. Viscous.

Ridiculously savoury on the nose - smoked meat, dates, figs, blueberry & plum compote. It smells immensely rich.

Soft on the palate - velvet glove. Still a big wine though. Fat, fleshy plum fruit; gentle, sweet tannins. It takes awhile to come out - there's a bit of cocoa powder. More of a rounded palate compared to the Chardons' gripping linear structure. Might chalk that up to the 42% Merlot in the blend. Deeply hedonistic.

****

Tasted 16/1/10 at Luvians Bottleshop

comparative tasting part 2: Marsannes (with a hint of Roussanne)

My hangover's settling in and all I want is my bed. I will, however, taste wine and note it for posterity instead. After that I shall grab a (very) late lunch.

Chapoutier Saint Joseph Blanc 2006

Colour's gold with silver edges and the slightest hint of pink - no idea where that's coming from - my bloodshot eyes, perhaps?

Nose is a bit mute - peach notes that run into pineapple and a hint of the tropics. Then a flinty, smokey edge that suggests something more luscious, like honey must.

Fat and mouth-filling with fleshy white fruits - peach, melon and pineapple with a nice texture. The oak is noticeable, but pleasant. This could so easily be over the top, but it isn't. It's rounded, with a nice waxiness and wee touch of candied fruits. Quite bright as well. The finish has legs and it's really quite refreshing.

****

Qupé Marsanne 2007

Far more silver than the Saint Joseph. Nice brilliance.

Nose is a bit cheesy - kind of a pecorino or manchego undercut by a white fruit chutney. Interesting, though not terribly appealing.

Incredibly fat and somewhat unwielding - think there may be something wrong with it. Seems to be a bit of sulphur taint. There's that odd cheesiness to it. Will have to try it again sometime because I think there's something wrong here.

**? will taste again soon.

Tasted 15/1/10 at Luvians Bottleshop

comparative tasting part 1: Nebbiolos

I'm not generally a fan of 'comparing' wines. Wine is meant to stand on its own or with a meal - that's where the enjoyment comes from. Comparative tastings should only really be held for educational purposes. That said, this was a fun and illuminating way to spend the afternoon.

Bonny Doon Vineyards Ca' del Solo Nebbiolo 2005

Ruby with hints of that Nebbiolo rust - nice brilliance.

Intense cherry on the nose with a hint of tar, sage and wet stone. Perhaps a little green peppercorn.

Proper Nebbiolo on the palate - brilliantly rustic grip, bracing acidity, bunches of crunchy, soured cherries and that fantastic wet asphalt texture. Pebbles and purity with great balance. Bravo.

****

Fontanafredda Serralunga d'Alba Barolo 2004

Burnt ruby, nice depth.

Nose is smoky with flecks of black pepper, cherries and cranberries and a little whiff of bell pepper.

Bursting fruit on the palate - rich, toothsome and rambunctious. This is juicy stuff, again with incredible acidity and great texture. It's a bigger wine, but perhaps a wee bit lacking in the precision of the Bonny Doon. It makes up for it with exuberance.

***(*?)

Tasted 15/1/10 at Luvians Bottleshop

I think they're both brilliant wines but at the moment the Bonny Doon is showing better. Oddly, I prefer it because it strikes me as a great deal more 'old world' than the Barolo. Who'd have thought?

two new wines with dinner

The howling gales, crashing waves and bitter cold require foods to warm you from head to toe. Rib-sticking nosh that provides a smile with every rich, indulgent bit. So I whipped up some cauliflower and stilton soup and followed it up with toad in the hole. For the first dish I tried something new; I asked the Twitter world what I should pair with it. They said Vouvray. So I grabbed something I hadn't tried before and hoped for the best.

Vigneau-Chevreau Vouvray Sec 2007

Deep gold in colour - looks old. Classic, classy chenin.

Nose is brilliant honeycomb & beeswax with lime and a hint of the tropical.

Rich, sinewy waxy texture. Gripping palate - deep, dry and moreish. Almost bitter, roast citrus fruits laced with baked honey - all in all brilliantly complex. Compelling wine for not a lot of money. Perfect with the soup. Will also last another decade at least.

****(*)

Domaine Richaud Terre de Galets Côtes du Rhône 2007

Well, there's a lot of hype, banter, chat and lunacy orbiting the 2007 Rhônes these days. From what I can tell, it's all about the fruit. From what I've tasted, I'd say I prefer '06. There's a bit more balance and the secondaries come through a bit more. But that's neither here nor there.

The colour is deep purple, but not in a '70s rock kind of way.

The nose is ridiculously fruity. Not jammy, but pure unadulterated cassis with backings of blueberry. After a wee while the minerality and liquorice begins to show as well.

That wollop of fruit from the nose is every bit as intense on the palate. Incredible blackcurrant and blueberry with serious focus - it grabs you. Young, vibrant and almost humming. Then, in the middle, there's a bit of a blank spot, followed by that minerality, wet stone and black liquorice.

Good stuff. Interesting. Delicious with toad in the hole.

***(*?)

Tasted 13/1/10 at Shorehead

Max 2004, Miles Mossop Wines

No real sign of fading at the core - deep right up to the rim, which is just beginning to ruby.

Nose is deep fruit - compote-y.

The palate's brilliantly pure cassis and blueberries with a hint of tar on the backbone. A touch of green pepper and spice. None of that horrendous burnt rubber what ruins so many South African reds. I like this, rather surprisingly. A bit simple, but lovely.

***

Tasted 12/1/10 at Luvians Bottleshop

Chateau Labérgorce-Zédé 1996

This wine won't exist in its current form for much longer. The former estates that comprised the original Chateau Labérgorce have been reunited. It's a shame; I love the name. It sounds like a ski run married an alien. Oh well. There's not much static in the wine world, to be fair.

Ruby creeps in at the rim, though it's still dark down to the core.

Soft nose - violets with a whiff of cherry stones.

The palate is delightful - elegant and charming. Soft, caressing tannins, cherry with a hint of plum on the mid palate. Nice length with floral, perfumed edges. Very feminine sort of claret - classic Margaux and cracking good value.

****

Tasted 11/1/10 at Luvians Bottleshop

Chateau Gruaud Larose 1990

It's important to remember patience with wine, especially a bottle with age and pedigree. This isn't out of pretence or ceremony but rather because you want to get the best out of something special.

I opened this bottle with some friends before Christmas. It's a wine I've visited a few times before and always thought it required more time. We fashioned a rudimentary decanter and poured some glasses. We sipped slowly once or twice and then left it for about twenty minutes.

Still youthful colour with good brilliance - deep, ruby & crimson at the core.

The nose starts off a little unappealing; stewed and reductive, suggesting perhaps some bret taint. After about 20 minutes it sheds the unpleasantness. Smokey, soured leather comes through with fleshy dark stone fruit and that earthiness that suggests classic Gruaud.

On the palate it lacks definition; tight, soured, stewed and old. Burnt orange and oven scrapings. So we set it down for awhile and watch Pete's new kittens fight, play and thunder through the flat. The Burmese is cuddly while the Bengal is not.

Returning to the glass is a revelation. The dust and cobwebs shrugged off and the fruit sheds its sour, burnt orange notes. The textured stones and minerality come through, the mouthfeel is fleshy with great grip - cherries and plums with bright juiciness. It feels like biting into something. At the core is that meaty, savoury and rustic Gruaud note - this is a St Julien treat, the region's most masculine wine. The wine is still young, needing time, patience and at least an hour's decanting.

**(***)

Tasted 21/12/09 on Devonshire Rd

Meo Camuzet Nuits St Georges 1er Cru Aux Murgers 2000

A wine shop in the lead up to Christmas is a manic place. The motion is perpetual and the customers constant. There's never enough space to move around and rarely are things sitting just where you left them. Then, all of a sudden, it stops. The last few hours are quiet. Shell-shocked staff tidy in the aftermath, hoping to replace the stock just bought. In the aftermath of one such day recently, a generous supplier who was helping out suggested we open something rather nice.

The colour is rustic and rusty - distinguished and deep to the core.

Sweet strawberry compote on the nose, a touch of leather, forest floor and dark flower petals. Heady and hedonistic.

The palate is wonderful - juicy fruit crushed with fresh herbs & spice. Rich and layered with with all notes and nuances caressing the palate as they should. Then, as with all great Burgundy, it becomes about the sensation, the ephemeral, the feel and memory of it. Brilliant stuff.

*****

Tasted 17/12/09 at Luvians Bottleshop.

Amontillado de Jerez, Solera matured by Miguel Fontadez Florido, from the Lustau Almacenista range

I have some other notes, older, to post; but they can wait.

I love sherry. It's great value, it's complex and savoury, it seems to defy convention. I chuckle as folks turn their nose up, muttering about granny's favourite tipple and paying too much for something far more popular.

The mere process of its creation fascinates me. Its maturation is paramount - the soul of the wine is not so much in its viticulture, but in the vast bodegas that store barrels upon barrels (literally) in their towering soleras. Titans of the booze industry blend thousands of barrels - Domecq, Gonzalez Byass & Harvey's all produce ridiculous amounts, their names ubiquitous with the wine and region.

As far as I know, it is only Lustau that champion the Almacenistas: the garagistes of sherry country. Hobbyists: doctors, authors or tradespeople with space for a few barrels and use it to make their own wines. Unburdened by producing definitive styles for a global market, they produce some classic wines. They're individual. This particular Amontillado comes from a 30 barrel solera. I don't know much else about it - average age or anything - but I do know that it's rather tasty.

The colour is brilliant amber.

The nose has roasted citrus, figs, salted & toasted almonds, salted caramel, beaten leather, cured ham and a touch of chestnut. There's also a savoury dustiness that's rather compelling. It's also a touch spicy, prickly almost.

Rich, dry sherries are such a curveball. The nose suggests sweetness, but there's none. As bone dry as a Fino, but with the curbing nature of oxidation, it becomes softer, nuttier with an almost creamy finish. All that remarkable complexity from the nose follows through. Without food, it is a touch sharp, but it should be. That zippy raking that it gives, that jolt to the saliva glands, the delightful cleansing on the palate that follows, all of these things are an acquired taste.

I'm glad I acquired it.

****

Tasted 23 December at Miller's Court, whilst avoiding Christmas tree responsibilities

Pio Cesare Barolo 2004

I'm pretty sure we were on our way to or from the Schooner Wharf Bar. Probably from. I think we'd just had lunch - probably fish-of-the-day grilled sandwich, washed down with couple of Red Stripes. The fish of the day was probably snapper, or mahi-mahi (otherwise known as dolphin, but not the cute, squeaky kind). So we wandered home and, as happens in the Keys, there was a sudden downpour. The sun had been beating down beforehand and suddenly there was that peculiar aroma - that rain on hot asphalt whiff. Former wine-merchanting legend (and current wine-making legend) Andy turned to me and said, 'Now there's a tasting note: rain on hot asphalt.'

The problem is, not a lot of wines smell like that.

Young Barolos, however, do often smell a bit of tar, and from there you can possibly arrive at rain on hot asphalt. With a little imagination.

The colour pleases me. It's that dark and brooding Nebbiolo that kind of looks like rust, but isn't, with illuminating brilliance at the core.

Earthy, smoky, meaty, tar-like nose with a core of sweet cherries, a touch of cranberry and perhaps just a whiff of rain-on-hot-asphalt. Truffles and wet fresh soil come through a bit with some air. Broody, youthful and enticing.

Incredibly tight knit on the palate. Those cherries and cranberries are inseparable from the secondaries - tar and liquorice, big mouthfeel and mouth-filling. This is so young and there's so much to come - it hums with its structure and those blank spots, those markers that hint at what's to come - that tar will soften to leather and that liquorice will fade to tobacco. At the risk of sounding a bit new-age-y, there's brilliant energy to this.

***(**)

Needs about 10-15 years and it will be glorious. Very fun now.

Tasted 27/11/09 at Luvians Bottleshop.

Chave Selection Saint Joseph 'Offerus' 2002

I am in-between jobs at the moment. It's only been a few weeks. I'm not watching daytime television and I'm not panicking yet. To occupy my mind and keep my palate nimble I'm spending a few hours a week developing a staff-training curriculum for one of Scotland's finest independent wine merchants. One of the most important things about teaching is determining what needs to be taught. In that sense, I suppose I've got quite a curve to attend to myself.

Faded violets on the edge without the light, with it there's a glimmer of ruby, and the violets lose their purple. And what's a violet without it's purple?

The nose is green pepper, muted olive tapenade and a smattering of forest floor. The fruit has turned stoney and there are plums and perhaps a fig or two lingering there. A tingle of minerality.

The palate is very much as it should be. 2002 was a bit of a shambles in the Rhône, and as such this is not going to last much longer. That said, it's not fading. Chave doesn't release rubbish. It's just made that shift, that twist from berry fruit to stone fruit, where the line is blurred between secondaries and primaries and you're not sure where the fruit ends and the tannins and phenols begin. There's that green-ness from the nose, that tang of black olive and the plums and figs, all wrapped in those velvety, plum flesh tannins and an underlying stone-yness. It's a nice, charming Northern Rhône with a bit of age.

*** (Part of me wants to give it ****, just for being true to itself)

Tasted 23/11/09 at Luvians Bottleshop

Tedeschi Rosso La Fabriseria 2001

It was with deep sadness that I discovered Tedeschi are no longer producing this fantastic wine. A classic Veneto red blend with just a touch of Cabernet Sauvignon (about 5%) to give it a bit of backbone, this was one of my true favourites during my early years in the trade. When I started it was £11 or £12 a bottle and by its last vintage I think it was about £17. I always lamented the price rising, but never resented it.

The core is deep still, though the edges begin to wane.

Broody nose with Christmas spice, cocoa and candied cherries. Touches of woodspice, dust and more savoury fruit. Candied hams, figs and more cherries.

At once complex and deep - dark fruits with sandalwood, bright bunches of summer cherries just beginning to soften. Mouthfilling and layered. The mouthfeel is reminiscent of cocoa with a touch of that dryness you get with good cured meats. Good length and good memories. A shame it's gone.

****(and an extra * for some good years and good memories)

Tasted 20/11/09 at Shorehead among good friends

Fontodi Vinga del Sorbo Chianti Classico Riserva 2004

The first time I tried this was, I think, the 1998 vintage. I'm pretty sure of it. Andy popped it open on a quiet night at the shop, probably six or seven years ago. He'd tried it at VinItaly and loved it, proclaiming it to be the best Chianti he'd ever tried. We swirled and bantered and read up on the estate and decided, damn; that was fucking good Chianti.

I bought this particular bottle in the vain hope of laying it down for a wee while, or longer. 2004 is meant to be fantastic and I've always liked giving good Chianti a wee bit of age, to let some of that tar turn to leather. Sadly at a dinner party recently I had been remiss in purchasing appropriate wine. A raid of my fine wine shelf ensued and thus we were treated to this old friend.

Crimson to the core - held up to the light it showed spectacular brilliance, gem-like, ruby.

The nose is intense, dark chocolate cherries with the dust that collects at the bottom of an old wooden wine box. The secondaries are still more about the feel; prickling the nostrils and surrounding that intensity of fruit, underlining it and putting two massive exclamation points behind it.

That dark chocolate cherry intensity follows through to the palate - it pierces with laser-like focus, the fruit and cocoa dominating the beginning and middle of the palate with perfect, proper tannins, dry as a bone and not a hint of green, cleaning up afterwards, stripping every spare lipid up from the tongue as it goes down. Delicious with the bangers n' mash but suited to even more hedonistic, rich, rib-sticking meals. Roast leg of lamb with a nice bit of crispy fat and such, adorned by roast tomatoes. That's classic, proper, old-world dryness, none of your sweetened tannins, no velvet yet, but with time it will come.

****(*)

Tasted 5/11/09 at Shorehead

Musigny Grand Cru 1999 Jacques Frederick Mugnier

This was tasted recently in the company of old friends including two wine-makers, a wine merchant and a chef/restauranteur. It was an extraordinary evening and this was the highlight.

Colour is youthful but possibly showing its first grey-temples. No rust, just beginning to pale a touch. To be fair, it's rarely the darkest wine in the world.

Purity & perfume pervade on the nose. Crushed wild strawberries and raspberries with a touch of dusty pomegranate. Whiffy gorganzola. The cloud of herby dust in a forest step. Balsamic starts coming through later- more savoury, caramelised onions and hints of bacon fat. Leather.

On the palate, the tannins just caress. It's soft. A touch muted to start. Incredible compote fruit. Beautiful but kind of shy. Those beguiling red fruits from the nose all follow through but become so deeply entwined with the secondaries - perfumed herbs, sweet dusty leather that it just becomes feeling more than flavour. Lasts and lasts...

*****

Tasted 21/10/09 at Shorehead