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

Domaine Olivier Pithon Cuvée Laïs, Vin de Pays des Côtes Catalanes 2008

I'm in France, making wine. In Collioure. Well, Argelés sur Mer is where I'm staying, and we're making wine in both Argelés and Cospron, which is nestled in between Collioure and Banyuls. The wines we're making will be Collioure, Banyuls, Muscat de Rivesaltes and Côtes du Roussillon. And maybe a few Vin de Pays des Côtes Catalanes. It's hard work, and tonight my mate Andy and his wife Kirsten are hosting a wee meal. It makes a nice change from the constant baguette-cheese-paté combo that forms the cornerstone of our diet at the moment. There are vegetables for a change. So we opened a bottle I bought. Pithon is right next to Domaine Gauby, one of the region's truly great winemakers. He's organic and, I think, other marks of being a generally forward-thinking and hip wine-maker. Biodynamic? Dunno. The guy at the groovy wine shop in Collioure, Vins d'Auteurs, said he was cool and my mate Andy concurred.

The colour is pale, but the gold still yellow.

Malt, oats and green rhubarb hit the nose first, then developing into a bit of peach skin with apricots and just a touch of gunsmoke.

The palate is huge. Woody but curbed white fruit with a youthful zing and granola texture accompanied by dried, caramelised green apples. Long, mouth-filling finish. This is fairly huge stuff, perhaps lacking a bit of finesse.

***(*?)

Tasted 18/9/09 in Collioure

Chateau Thénac Côtes de Bergerac 2005

I was at a trade tasting once, a big one. Supermarket buyers were out in force, every major retailer, wholesaler, wine-writer and hanger-on was milling about, swilling and spitting, small-talking and flattering while shippers, wine-makers, middlemen and me were all trying to impress, make a sale or even just get some interest. It wasn't the most fun in the world, but it was ok. I ate a lot of free water biscuits and drank a lot of free water. I tasted, for the first time, a wine I'd made. In fact, I'd foot-trodden the bloody thing.

Standing next to me at the time was a wine-maker from Bergerac. Well, kind of. He was English. But he'd made wine in Bergerac for quite awhile. And, having done so, he had no fucking time for any of the rubbish surrounding him. There was no fake smile, there was no recycling of nonsense yields or percentages, no quaint hook to drag people in; he looked with disillusioned disdain at those around him and shot grins and winks at the women walking by; he poured because he had to, and he was almost daring you not to like his wines.

I didn't like all his wines. I liked some, disliked others. But I liked the attitude. I enjoyed the chat. I learned a bit. I poured, and smiled and tried not to screw up.

That was my introduction to the wines of Bergerac. I remember more about the maker than the cuvées. So I'm revisiting the region, on a whim, with a wee sample a friend passed my way. I'd never heard of it, but I trust the shipper.

The label brags about using Bordeaux techniques. To be fair, Bordeaux is awfully close. It's a bit harsh to criticise for piggy-backing, but it's also kind of a cop-out on their part. Surely building their regional identity will only do better for them in the long run?

Deep and brooding with just a hint of purple on the horizon. The rest seems black.

Dark forest fruit compote on the nose with just the barest hint of cedar and mint - some more fresh herbs begin on the finish as it were. Fairly simple but very pleasant.

The palate boasts a compelling dustiness that I want to say is its quintessential Bregerac-iness. But I've only tasted a couple of them, and so I can't. But I really like it. Dusty fruit compote with a wee touch of black olive and fresh rosemary. I like the tannin structure and the roundness of it. It claims Bordeaux technique and it tastes a bit of it. Blind, I would have said Bordeaux because I wouldn't have known much better. To be honest, the black olive notes would've flummoxed me a tad too - that always sends me Northern Rhône. But it's not a claret. It is different. It should celebrate that, as opposed to grabbing at the glories of another region.

****

Tasted at Shorehead 21/7/09

Consolation Gris de Gris Rosé 2008

The Consolation vineyard lies in the hills just South of the village of Collioure in South-West France. It is terraced, and ridiculously steep. While the majority of vines (and there aren't many) are Grenache Gris, there are a few oddities thrown in, including one vine of San Sebastian - a varietal I had never heard of before.

We picked it about lunchtime, our second vineyard of the day. My head pounded with dehydration and I worked slowly. The French pickers laughed at me and smoked rollies. They made fun of my pace and my idea of a holiday. I left a fair few rotten bunches on the schistes terraces to rot in the sun. I fell behind a lot.

The vineyard went quickly. It's tiny, and there were a lot of us.

Andy - who owns the vineyard - and I sorted the fruit by hand, bunch by bunch, trying to rid ourselves of pervasive rot. We destemmed them and left them in tank for a night, lightly crushed, making rosé the old fashioned way, drawing a touch of colour from the light pink of their skins.

In the end, there wasn't very much. Had we used a barrel, there wouldn't have been enough to fill it. So it rested in tank, without malolactic fermentation, until Andy liked it enough to put it in bottle. And now there's a wee amount in Scotland and I drink it with as much regularity as I can afford.

So once again I'm writing up a wine that I've helped make, once again casting objectivity and integrity aside. I took more part in this wine than any of the others I helped make. As such, it's rather close to my heart. When it first arrived I was curious, excited and filled with trepidation. Now I've tried it three or four times I think I can attempt a description that leaves some of that behind, and respects the wine for what it is.

The tint is salmon pink - reminiscent of Provençal rosé with a touch of copper at the core.

Strawberries and peaches on the nose with a prickle of mineral freshness. Then some melon and more exotic fruit comes through later.

Most people will drink this very cold. When done so, there's a crisp freshness and tightness that come through as incredibly refreshing and quenching. But they're missing so much. With just a little bit of time at room temperature the fruit and mouthfeel reveal strawberries, peaches and watermelon with just enough citrus zest around the edges to keep everything in line. Waxy-textured with fine-grain minerality just underneath, stretching to a finish that lingers with the memory of fresh strawberry pips.

I don't really get rosés. I enjoy them crisp and fresh on a summer day, but I don't often find writing notes on them of any value. Nepotism aside, I think this is a brilliant wine - textured and rounded with lovely fruit and not a hint of confection.

***** (unabashed affection, I don't care that it seems nepotistic and biased)

Tasted always at Shorehead, most recently 15/07/09

Note: as far as I know, only two cases of this wine exist in the UK at the moment. And I've drunk the better part of one of them. If you see it anywhere, buy it. Even if just to prove me wrong.

Roederer Brüt Premier & Cos d'Estournel 1996

Pre-gaming is an interesting concept. It's drinks at home before a night out - an attempt to get a bit of a buzz on before the having to shell out on overpriced, rubbish booze. It is especially essential before balls, as the booze is that much more rubbish and that much more overpriced. At least, that's what I think pre-gaming is. All this is told to me by younger people, in the prime of their partying age, with hundreds of hangovers in their future.

So I decided to go to a ball with some of these young folks - and they decided to pre-game. Standard fayre for pre-gaming is Smirnoff and a 2 litre bottle of coke. Jack Daniel's often plays a significant role as well.

I'll be honest, neither of those really pique my interest. Fortunately, the folks coming over for pre-gaming also included a mate in the trade, and so our apero (French for pre-gaming) consisted of Roederer Brüt Premier and St Estephe's super-second pagoda-clad Cos d'Estournel - 1996 no less.

The Roederer was less of a revelation than a happy reminder of just how good their non-vintage offering is. I don't really care for their new, streamlined packaging and branding, but that's not really my thing in any case. I marvel at Champagne marketing and the impatience they have for their image. It seems a label must be changed every few years or so, especially if a close competitor has had a makeover themselves. So yeah, I think the new Roederer labels are pretty ugly. Fortunately the wine still tastes ace. Quite rich and toasty with classic apple and perhaps a touch of pear? The bubbles are soft and a little lively. Refreshing and classy.

****

St Estephe - particularly Cos - produces the most exotic wines of the left bank, in my humble opinion at least. Always heady on the nose with crazy spicy fruit on the palate. Cos '96 is no exception. I always feel that the winemakers in Coonawarra are trying to make St Estephe-style wines. They don't often succeed.

The nose is fairly explosive - dark tar and nutmeg surrounding piercing, dark confit fruit. The edges find hints of cedar and leather and a touch of savoury smoked meats.

That piercing dark confit fruit punches big on the palate, but it's never jammy. It's rich, forming the centre from which all the secondaries blossom. Exotic woodspice, nutmeg and cinnamon, a hint of tar with a finish of saddle leather all follow on from that fantastic, heady, exotic fruit. This is not a cerebral wine. There is no lingering, ephemeral dovetail finish. This is an emotive, decadent beast which, were it not for its superb structure and phenolics, I would probably mistake for a new-world blockbuster. I like it.

****

Tasted 26/6/2009 at Shorehead

Chateau Phélan Ségur 2000

A recent jaunt down to London allowed a wee peak at my parents' wine stash. As usual, I shook my head at their indifferent whites and smiled at their groovy selection of Bordeaux. My mom and I cooked up a nice dinner - lamb noisette with baby roast tatties, some spinach and a bowl of pomordorini (tiny tiny tiny tomatoes).

Deep tar and cedar on the nose with a touch of cough syrup and damsons. Quite heady and fun to nose.

The palate is a bit simpler than the nose, but it has a nice hedonism to it. The tar on the nose forms the backbone and the finish - and with such dark, decadent fruit rides on the top of it. This is a big wine, fairly two-dimensional, but there's a lot in those two dimensions. This wine will soften, but probably not deepen, with age. So you could cellar for another 10 years easily. But it's fairly yummy now.

***

Tasted at Miller's Court, 09/07/2009

Mas Cristine Côtes du Roussillon Blanc 2008

This tasting note is morally bankrupt. I kick over the spittoon of vinous detachment and neutrality, I turn a blind eye to scruples and sneeze in the direction of journalistic integrity.

The thing is, I have an interest in this wine. Not financial, sadly, but an interest nonetheless. I helped make it. In a disused corner of a seeming silent co-op near Argeles, we crafted it with blood, sweat, tears and the tools of the trade. I named the ancient press 'the battleship' as we rolled it out and hosed it down after crushing fruit. I took samples from frothing, fermenting barrels, scratching down temperature readings and specific gravity notations. I tasted the juice pre-ferment, closing my eyes and trying to imagine what the future held. Julien and Andy made sure I didn't screw up and in the late summer heat we all dreamt of the beer to come.

So this is a wine I am predisposed to like. This is a wine that I've put on the wine list at the restaurant because I MADE IT. So there.

Slivers of platinum run along the pale gold - there's a nice shimmer and brilliance to it.

Decadent on the nose - fleshy white fruit and honeysuckle with a hint of nettles. Beautifully heady.

Very more-ish on the palate - all that fleshy white fruit is there with lovely minerality providing an exquisite, rounded texture. It hits every part of the mouth. Judicious and careful use of oak gives it good grip also making it a hedonist's delight. It's supple, and while there's a touch of heat - as it is 14% - it's well-balanced and never overbearing. Good length as well. This is tasting brilliant now and it's only been in bottle a fortnight. I imagine it will get better over the next year and taste ace for at least another 5 or 6.

***** (did I mention I helped make it?)

Tasted 30/4/2009 at Shorehead

Marsannay "Les Vaudenelles" 2005 Domaine Bruno Clair

Bruno Clair make some stunning wines; indeed their Gevrey Chambertins and Morey St Denis are prized by Burgundy fanatics and wine lovers in general. Those are pricey however, and deservedly so. This is one of their entry-level wines from their home village of Marsannay. I'm always on the look-out for good value Burgundy. It can be hard to find.

I like the idea of good value wines from houses better known for their stratospheric prices. The Mâcon-Verzé from Domaine Leflaive or the Cuilleron Syrah Vin d' Pays are good examples. When those wines come from a vintage as hyped as 2005, it piques my curiosity.

I've had a long week followed by a long weekend. I cooked some sausage casserole and mash and looked forward to popping the bottle.

The colour is dark burgundy (funny that), with a hint of violet. The rim is beginning to pale.

Touch dusty on the nose, with raspberries and forest floor. There's a bit of maturity there, which is surprising. I was expecting more youth, though I suppose it is four years old now.

The palate is gripping but not harsh. The tannins have softened. The fruit still has that crispness to it, with a backbone of slightly tart raspberries and cranberries. It's not very complex but then it isn't necessarily simple either. It's a bit old fashioned - no overripe fruit or over-extraction - and all the better for it. Tastes great with the food (which I'm rather pleased with).

****

Tasted 27/4/2009 at Shorehead