another month off...

Book deadlines are quite tight at the moment and so there's been a bit of a lull up here. However, I've been on two wine-y trips to France already this year, with more to come. A visit to Beaune has left me even more besotted with Burgundy and there was something about the terraces around Tain l'Hermitage that ignited my curiosity. Both trips, along with notes and assorted gibberish, will be written up as soon as I finish the first draft of the book. Which will hopefully be sometime in April. Thank you for your patience.

 

Buy my book. Please

Equipo Navazos La Bota de Manzanilla Pasada Bota "NO"

Manzanilla Pasada - occupying that important phase of maturity between Fino and Amontillada (not Amontillado, which comes after Amontillada. I think.). I didn't drink this with Broomie, I drank it with Andy. And then I saved a bit which I meant to bring into work, but then got greedy and finished before that could happen. Because it was very, very tasty.

Quite light, but with beginnings of brass.

Sea salt and hay with smoked nuts and toffee. There's some citrus there as well as butterscotch and dough.

The palate starts off quite invigorating. Fresh salt spray, citrus tang and the dust from the bottom of a bowl of dust. Then it softens, becomes quite velvety and textured. Melts on the mouth sort of like dried bits of seaweed with sushi. Fresh notes of mint, some other herby notes. Complex. Nuanced. Yet more amazing sherry from these folks.

*****

Tasted 8 & 11 January 2013 at Millers Court

Buy My Book. Please.

Equipo Navazos La Bota de Palo Cortado 34

I opened this and the Amontillado with my mate, Broomie. He and I went to Jerez together 8 years ago (seems like yesterday) and share a love and nerdery for sherry such that we occasionally get a bit lost. His fiancé was with us and thought we were a combination of amusing, boring and ridiculous. We waxed lyrical and philosophical for over an hour about this, pouring forth praise and pondering nuances. 

I have one more bottle of this left in the cellar. I'm trying to forget it's there; to leave it as a sort of surprise to myself, but it keeps calling to me.

Darker, like Greek honey and brass.

Deep, rich and inviting nose. Roasted oranges and maple-glazed walnuts. A touch of amaretto. Occasionally there's a bit of spearmint, often there's deeply varnished mahogany, leather and a bit of cured meat. Dust. Toffee. Pecan pie. Bonfire smoke. It's all there.

I don't think I've ever had sherry so red-fruit like. It bursts right out with roasted and raisined strawberries, plums and raspberries, all with baked orange rind acidity to lift them. Proper waxy honeycomb, with those hardened clumps of honey sugar. Bone dry but rich and leading you along that path to thinking there must be sweetness there somewhere. But there isn't, and it's better for it. This is incredibly complex - again, every sip is different. It draws the tongue right up to the roof of the mouth and makes you tug as much as you can from every sip. Nutty, intricate, powerful, delicate, and seemingly endless - the finish is hard to determine as you want another sip before it goes away. There isn't anything out of place with this. If this isn't the best sherry I've ever drunk, it's pretty bloody close.

*****

Tasted 26 & 28 December 2012 at Miller's Court

Equipo Navazos La Bota de Amontillado 37 'Navazos'

I secured a parcel of these as a sort of Christmas present to myself. It's expensive for sherry, but for what other wine can you secure some of the absolute best available for about £50 a bottle? We all have different priorities of course. I spent most of January living on muesli as a result, but there you go. 

Pale brass, with a bit of a honey hue to it.

Pecans and almonds on the the nose, with a hint of brûlée. There's smokiness there too, depending on the whiff. It changes with every sniff. Sometimes a bit of dusty, woody varnish comes out. Sometimes it's quite orange-y.

It clenches around the tongue, permeating the channels between tasted buds. It gets in there. Like drinking polished mahogany. Those nuts from the nose are roasted more on the palate. It's surprisingly elegant, delicate, with the structure somewhat like delicately spun sugar around the edges, but at it's core is beautifully rich, dry, salted caramel. There's something different with every taste. Long; incredible.

*****
Tasted 26 & 28 December 2012 at Miller's Court

Champagne Savart 'Calliope' 2006

This was a bizarre moment. I was at a grower Champagne tasting with my mate, Pete, the Champagne lunatic. We tried the wines, some of which were lovely and some of which were not-so-much. We were in the gallery where Ronnie Wood from the Rolling Stones hangs his art. It made for surreal surroundings to say the least, as did the presence of those working in the gallery. High fashion, ridiculously glamorous art nerds meet low fashion, low glamour wine nerds. Anyway, at the end of the tasting, our host pulls this bottle out and tells us we've got to try it. It's the first bottle to leave Savart's cellars and he's only made 600 or so bottles. It's 60% Chardonnay 40% Pinot Noir and zero dosage - he doesn't really know what he's going to do with it. After tasting it, I reckon cellar half and drink the other half: it was awesome.

Pale lemon gold with fine, quick bubbles.

Hay and lemon and apple and salted shortbread with just a hint of sweet butter.

Champagne shot through a laser. Incredibly tight, lemons rind spray, touches of salinity bit of quince, remarkable stone finish that lasts a good long while. Lean but powerful stuff. This is seriously fine Champagne - I'd put it up against a gamut of prestige cuvées without hesitating. I don't know if it's going to be available for sale, but if it is, you should buy it.

*****

Tasted in Mayfair, 14 December 2012

 

Buy My Book. Please.

Chateau Lafite 1955

This was a little too old. I was lucky to taste it anyway, but it would have been better 10 or 15 years ago. That's snobby and picky and hypercritical, yes, but I think people stand in awe of age too much with wine. I love old wine. But sometimes it's not at its best. That doesn't make it any less charming. 

Pale as burgundy, but clearly claret.

Stewed plums, some real bright ripe berry notes, lovely forest-y secondaries. Bit tarry. Quite sweet and rich. Something creamy about.

Charming and complete on the palate. Elegant with some nice life to it. Gentle and caressing. All red fruits, strawberry cream and leather.

***

Tasted 7 December 2012 at The Sampler

 

Buy My Book. Please.

Musigny Grand Cru VV 1999 de Vogüé

I love Musigny. I prefer Mugnier's to de Vogüé's these days, but that's totally academic as I cannot afford either. 

Dark, deep and gorgeous.

Quite mute to start. Slowly showing strawberries, cherries and some glazed ham.

Incredibly tight knit at the moment, with fruit and secondaries pulled taut like rope in the palate. Finely texture, like beautiful wood. Echoes long after it goes down. Intense. Focused. Precise, but still with elegant poise. Lifting. Glorious.

*****

Tasted 7 December 2012 at The Sampler

 

Buy My Book. Please.

101 > 81

In my first year at university, my friend Matt and I bought a bottle of Wild Turkey, booked the tv room in the basement of our hall and had a bit of a Billy Connolly stand-up marathon. This was in 1994. Everyone else was going to the pub that night, but we wanted to drink bourbon and laugh. We didn’t want Jack Daniel’s (not a bourbon), we didn’t want Jim Beam, we wanted Wild Turkey; bourbon to burn holes in the stomach, incendiary liquid that informed you beyond a shadow of any doubt that you were drinking something serious. Something strong.

Thus was Wild Turkey etched into my memory, and throughout the course of my adult life, it held a special place. The label looks like it should be the pattern on some 70’s shag carpet, its unapologetic bottle-shape, and the proof, proud and large, at 101. 8 years old and 101 proof, it was not a pleasure whiskey; it was the drinking equivalent of self-harm. Every sip blazed a trail across the palate and down the throat like a blade across the forearm. While most of my drinking was whisky-drinking, those rare times for whiskey-drinking were ones of intense reflection, misery and doom. It was the perfect accompaniment to such things. It didn’t smack of refinement and poise, it just smacked any refinement and poise off your smug face.

Latterly, I found it to be ideal in Old Fashioneds. Too many bartenders err towards the sweet. Wild Turkey served as the perfect foil to this. A mere sugar cube soaked in bitters was no match for it. It merely took a bit of the edge off. A whiskey cocktail; now with only half the self-harm.

I finished off the bottle at my local a few weeks ago. When next in, standing in its place on the shelf behind the bar stood a pale replacement. It still said Wild Turkey, but instead of ‘70s shag carpet, it was a pre-Miami Vice ‘80s airport lounge. Muted and staid. Designed. It didn’t say 8 years old on it, and the bold 101 was replaced by a larger 81 signifying far less. No longer a throwback, it was firmly a product of its time. I seethed. I took photos of it with my phone and lamented this ridiculous ‘diet’ bourbon. I shouted at everyone who listened. Countless wincing sips came back to me and slipped away again. 

I calmed down. 

It makes sense. Duty on spirits in the UK is based on abv, folks are drinking responsibly, or at least being told to. The rough edges all around are being smoothed out, curtailed. Rubber bumpers put on sharp corners so toddlers don’t bang their heads.

I don‘t know if it’s the whiskey itself, or if it’s just another marker of the passage of time. I do know what I’d like to wash the taste out of my mouth, but I guess I’ll have to look a bit harder to find it.

 

Buy My Book. Please.

Chambolle-Musigny Les Amoureuses 1955 Bouchard Aine & Fils

A friend and I decided to try a few icons at The Sampler before Christmas. 

Lovely colour, still with some weight.

Young on the nose, but not too young.

Still quite juicy and elegant on the palate, gripping and structured, with bright dark cherries, leather and dusty herbs. Lovely.

****

Tasted 7 December 2012 at The Sampler

 

Buy My Book. Please.

Grands Echezeaux 1969 Leroy

Pale and beautiful.

Strawberries and mulch on the nose. Burgundian barnyard that gets heady cocoay and perfumey.

Ripe, candied strawberries with beeswax, a touch of rosemary and the most silky delicate texture that hides this tight, zingy citrus. Juicy still. Lovely length.

****

Tasted 7 December 2012 at The Sampler

 

Buy My Book. Please.

yet another pause...

I have about 1000 tasting notes to post, as well as some opinions/rants on Bourbon, cocktails, craft beer and morons who claim to know about all those things, but the book is taking precedence at the moment. I'm sorry about that. This thing is only really useful if it's updated regularly. The coming weeks will see that happen. If you are still popping by, thank you. There should be some interesting things to read soon enough.

 

Buy My Book. Please.

Quintarelli Amarone 2000

I've mentioned before the special place Amarone takes in my heart. Any chance to try Quintarelli should be cherished. The great man himself passed away this year, and the world is poorer for it.

Not as dark and broody as I was expecting.

Liquor-soaked raisins covered in chocolate with some meat behind it.

Awesome backwards and properly bitter. Intense sweet dried fruit mixed with plums and the most bitter of dark chocolate. Proper mole style. Chillies. Long. Powerful. Amazing. For such power to be so nuanced, for all that layered complexity to be so clear and pristinely structured is remarkable. 

*****

Tasted 4 December 2012 at SWiG

Buy My Book. Please.

Sassicaia Vertical

This was a treat. My boss was hosting a top flight Italian tasting and opened all the bottles at the office to make sure they were in good condition and give us a chance to try them. Sometimes it's not so bad being a wine-merchant.

Sassicaia 1988

I love 1988 as a vintage in a lot of places, particularly Champagne. Not had the chance to try many from Italy, so I was curious and not a little bit excited.

Lovely depth of colour still. Slightly paled with age.

Very cedar-y and leafy on the nose. Just underneath that is juicy cherry and cassis. Truffles.

Lovely, leathery and quite delicious. Texture is grainy and nuanced. Great length. Superb fruit purity, though I wish a touch more of the secondaries came through.

****

Sassicaia 1990

Bottle variation can be a blessing and a curse. This was a curse.

Darker but not by much.

Earthy, slightly animal nose. Of Brett? Should blow off. Doesn't blow off. 

Very tight. Something a touch off, sadly.

Can't rate.

Sassicaia 1999

Italy was blessed by some truly extraordinary vintages at the end of the last century and the beginning of this one. And with so much attention being paid to overhyped '97s, you could do worse than picking up some great '99s at pretty good prices. Not this, of course. This is stupidly expensive and never worth quite as much as you pay for it. 

Dark.

Big, meaty, savoury nose of Parma ham and perfumed edges.

Palate is huge, juicy with cassis and cherries. Softening tannins but still with lovely grip and a touch of tactile bite. It gets leathery as it goes on, with great wood integration.

****

Sassicaia 2001

Another of those great Italian vintages. I would be very happy with a cellar full of '01s and '04s. 

Darker.

Softer nose than 1999. Caramel notes and Ceps as well as dark forest fruits.

Beautifully integrated berry fruit that's wrapped tightly in cocoa and herbs. Forest floor. Soft right up until a bracing and gripping finish. 

****

All tasted 4 December 2012 at SWiG

 

Buy My Book. Please.

Barolo Granbussia Riserva Speciale 1978 Aldo Conterno

This was a bit of a genie out of the bottle wine. As you can see from my note, it absolutely astounded when first tried, but coming back to it shortly afterwards it was beginning to dumb down. Those first few moments, however, were magical.

Pale ruby and rust. Bright highlights. Very translucent.

Big, bursting nose of roasted cherries and oranges with cinnamon, wild forest, old wood (but not wet) and a lot of leather. Crunchy, piercing and brilliant.

Oh my god that's so fresh, elegant and youthful. Bright cherries in all shades - fresh and sour, stewed and sweet, dried and crunchy, with a tanned citrus acidity, brow-beaten leather, cedar and the sense of walking on crunchy dried pine needles in an autumn forest. Such a wonder of age and freshness. I'm speechless. The barest of sips and I could almost write a book about it.

*****

Coming back to it and its age shows somewhat. Far more muted, earthy and secondary ***. The genie fled the bottle, perhaps, but still - quite the experience. 

Tasted at SWiG, 4 December 2012

Buy My Book. Please.

Equipo Navazos la Bota de Oloroso 28 Bota Punto

This is expensive. But should you get the chance, you should taste it. Really.

Quite pale for an Oloroso. A golden amber.

Varnish and mahogany and almonds and caramel and roasted oranges, dusty Victorian office-rich wood, leather, pipe tobacco.

All from the nose on the palate but with the most rich and sensuous mouthfeel utterly elegant, held by polished wood and a baked citrus acidity. Silky. Leafy notes. Length for miles. Amazing; truly amazing.

*****

Tasted 22 November 2012 at Swig.

 

Buy My Book. Please.

Vega Sicilia Valbuena 2004

It's always amused me that Spain's greatest winery (that doesn't make sherry) has 'Sicilia' in the name. I don't know why. Part of me hopes there's a ridiculously great boutique winery on Sicily called 'Ca' de España' or something like that.

The last vintage I had of this was, I think, the '98, and it was tasting awesome. This I got to sneak a sip of before the bottle was whisked away to a tasting to which I was sadly NFI.

Lovely gradation of colour. Ruby rim, dark core.

Meaty, with dusty red to dark fruit on the nose. Intense.

Palate is young but serious. Pure, juicy redcurrants and blackberries, wrapped in dust and leather in some sort of barren dessert. Like drinking a western. There's a taut, sinewy texture that everything rides on. It grabs you and tugs on the tongue. Ace. Classic.

****(*)

Tasted 22 November 2012 at Swig.

 

Buy My Book. Please.

Clio Jumilla 2008

This is from Jumilla, which I used to know as one of those great value regions of Spain that punched well above its weight. Well, this bottle is one of those super-premium depleted-uranium-density monstrosities that weighs roughly the same as a magnum of normal wine. It's a lot of weight to punch above. 

Ruby edges with a purple core.

Violets on the nose, followed by cassis and cocoa. Quite powerful. 

Ripe, rich and forward, viscous and mouthfilling. Bit of a bruiser but serious stuff regardless. Not my style, but impeccably made. Silky tannins. Great length. This is one of those wines that's polished almost into anonymity. It's delicious and would be great with a perfectly grilled chunk of fillet, but it's not going to tell you very much. 

***(*)

Tasted at Swig, 22 November 2012.

Buy My Book. Please.

Verget Le Montrachet 1992

This was my fourth Montrachet. Yes, I keep count. It's about counting how lucky I am to have tasted the things I have. There are those luckier and those unluckier, I know, but it's important to me that I remember that I'm very lucky, and that I shouldn't take it for granted. 

I'm firmly in the group that feels that this is the unparalleled greatest white wine vineyard in the world. I've tried three different growers' wines, and while all different, they stand towering above the neighbouring vineyards. It's remarkable. 

Green and gold.

Hilarious. That smells like Yquem. Sweetly resiny and spicy with outrageous tropical candied pineapple fruits and a whiff of lacquer. Jumps from the glass - I'm scared to swirl and coax more out of it. 

Incredibly rich, ripe and busting out all those indulgent notes from the nose. It starts off with that sweet tropical fruit and then from the back sides follows up with melted butter, cream and a nutty vanilla depth. All seems in its proper place, held there by gorgeous acidity. Not a note out of place. Gorgeous. Persistent - the finish goes on for minutes and the memory lingers even longer.

*****

Tasted 5 November 2012 at The Sampler.

 

Buy My Book. Please. 

Coche-Dury Meursault 2001

This was a wonderful example of the better wine and the better wine now. I have little doubt in my head or heart that this is not as fine a wine as the '95. There's less to it. But its integration; its general harmony; the way its structure simply glides across the tongue and palate beguiled me, and makes me think that this is a wine truly at its peak. I feel it won't show a great deal more than what it's showing now. While the '95 has a couple of years before it gets that harmony, this all right here, right now, and it's brilliant. 

Drink now, in quantity, preferably with seared scallops.

Almost the same colour as the '95. 

Nutty, with marmalade and orange peel. Worryingly oxiditive at first, but it blows off, revealing fresh hazelnuts and chantilly cream and lemon posset.

Lovely, silky and rich on the palate, with beautiful integration. All that from the nose. Utterly decadent. Not as complex or serious as the '95, but all the bits and pieces just seem to be fitting together better at the moment. Really beautiful, charming, lovely and very, very long on the finish.

*****

Tasted 5 November 2012 at The Sampler.

 

Buy My Book. Please.

Coche-Dury Meursault 1995

It was a dinner in Beaune 8 years ago that I first tried a wine from this producer. Until then it had only been rumour, hearsay and the like. It was, I believe, a 2000 vintage Puligny. He only does one Puligny, 'Les Enseigneres'. It was amazing. My boss at the time thought it was amazing too, and he considered it crucial not to consider anything amazing because amazing things cost amazing money. 

It was a great dinner all around, with great food, company and other splendid wines. It was only my second buying trip ever, so I was fresh-faced and excited. Lots of things stand out still, but that Puligny stands out just a little more. 

Deep gold but still incredibly bright at the core. Light dances through it.

Nose of rich butter and fresh toast. Very soft, gradually bringing out marmalade and honey. As air hits it, more flint & slate.

Palate quite hard at first, with mature cheddar and hard tack biscuits and a bit of gripping salinity. It loosens up then, but without losing it. Rich and toasty with soothing buttered pineapple and bright, young bracing citrus acidity that guides the flavour throughout the palate. Then the finish lifts into the sensual and ephemeral, echoing for moments. Sensational. Decanting advised.

*****

Tasted 5 November 2012 at The Sampler.

 

Buy My Book. Please.