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

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

Martinez Vintage 1927

Kevin, the dude at the cheese shop, warned us off Stilton. He was bored of it. To be fair, we were bored of it. I think everyone's bored of Stilton after Christmas. But Kevin had an alternative. An exquisite goat's cheese called St Maure de Touraine. I was sceptical, but trusted him. He is, after all, the dude at the cheese shop.

Old coffee, cold coffee - the colour is discouraging.

The nose, however, is alive. Spiced blueberries, heather, underbursh and bramble.

I cannot fathom this being 82 years old. Layered, fresh and confit fruit - brambles, blueberries, blackcurrant and a touch of plum. Unbelievable with the cheese - they play off each other - fireworks. It brings the weight and the structure of the wine and tones down the heat a bit. Such a marriage of cheese and port I've never enjoyed so much. Divine.

*****

Tasted 1/1/09 at Naughton

Chateau Suduiraut 1967

There are wines whose names are spoken in hushed tones, with looks of wonder on the faces of those dorky enough to care (guilty as charged). They are on some manner of list, or perhaps several, be it 'Greatest Wines of the Twentieth Century' or 'Wines to Try Before You Die' or some such arbitrary honour roll of wines too expensive for normal wine geeks such as yours truly to be able to afford. Biondi-Santi Brunello 1955, DRC 1959, Mouton 1945, Palmer 1961, Yquem 1921... they're wines that billionaire collectors share with the upper echelon of wine writers in the name of hedonism and posterity. And validity. They need the writers there to assure them, to assuage their egos that yes, spending the annual wage of your butler on a case of wine was indeed worth it.

Well, the Naughton Dining Club managed to get a hold of one of these legendary wines. The only wine writers present were myself and Pete. No billionaire invited. Had they arrived their price of entry would have been one magnum each of the above listed wines.

The colour is luminous - vivid polished brass.

Quite closed on the nose to start with, but opens beautifully - hints of mint and dry grass, that musk of wild honey, roasted lime peel, honeysuckle, peach pits and apricots. Almost overwhelming.

Like the nose, the palate is slow to open. As it does however, all the nose promised comes through and more. The texture itself is remarkable - gripping and layered, providing structure for all the riot of flavours - roasted stone and citrus fruit, confit fennel, honey and mint. Incredibly intense and lasts forever. I don't know if it's a wine of the century, but it's fucking amazing.

Delighted we have another bottle in the cellar.

*****

Tasted 1/1/09 at Naughton

Rousseau Mazy-Chambertin 1995

You say Mazis, I say Mazy... such peculiarities in wine make it that much more engaging. And confusing.

Deeper and broodier than the '93 Faiveley - far more intense on the nose as well. Classic FM in the background gives it a touch of bombast.

Palate is savoury and rich. Is it over the hill a touch? Perhaps a bit of stewed stone fruits but still wonderful. This may have been a 5 star wine 6 or 7 years ago. Touch short on the finish. Still lovely, but a touch past it.

****

Tasted 1/1/09 at Naughton

Ducru Beaucaillou 1966 (again)

I love this wine. I always have. The fruit is berry and stone. It is still at its peak: sublime, subtle and lingering. That perfection of textures - leather, mahogany and cedar wood. Utter comfort and delight.

*****

Tasted 1/1/09 at Naughton

My other tasting note on this wine is here.

Faiveley Mazis-Chambertin 1993

Disaster struck the meal. I dropped the whole stew pot onto the kitchen floor. This was not a 30 second rule situation. This was an oh-my-god-I've-just-ruined-dinner situation. Fortunately, we had a contingency plan. A tasty one. Still stew, but roe deer instead of lamb. No harm, no foul. We opened the two Burgundies. One needed to decant for awhile.

Beautifully rustic Burgundian tint - I hold it against the candle light to see that incredible brilliance and clarity.

The nose is strawberry, heather and leather.

All of the nose comes into the palate in sort of a compote - youth and grip on the finish with that savoury, soft leather and a touch of meatiness right in the centre. Excellent with the food, a touch ephemeral and certainly at its peak. Shame it's my last bottle.

****

Tasted 1/1/09 at Naughton

Chateau Palmer 1973

Six or seven or so years ago the founders of the hibernating Naughton Dining Club outdid themselves on birthday presents. We found bottles from birth years - brilliant bottles from some of the greatest names in the wine world - Krug, Dom Perignon, Pol Roger, Chateau Palmer & Chateau Ducru-Beaucaillou. Sadly, not all of us were born in brilliant years, and our knowledge of vintage gems was not as encyclopaedic as it is now. All but one of the bottles has been opened now. Memories of my '76 Dom Perignon are still fresh and fizzy in my head. The pen-ultimate bottle, the Palmer '73, was cracked open New Year's Day.

Rusty on the eyes, stewed on the nose.

The palate is aged, pleasant but no great thing. It's tired, but charming.

**

It's probably only one star to be honest, but it brought on such a tempest of chat and reminiscence - when we all started off in the trade, those first days of discovering fine wine and the blistering enthusiasm we sought to learn everything we could. To score it only one star would be criminal. A bottle of wine is no more just about how it smells and tastes than it is just fermented grape juice.

Tasted 1/1/09 at Naughton

Moët & Chandon 1959 (from magnum, disgorged '08)

New Year's came a day late in 2009. I had to work New Year's Eve, so my celebrations were put off a day. They were, however, worth the wait. A remarkable selection of fine wines, the best of friends and some spectacular food. The table crackled with banter, some shedding their hangovers of the night before, some suffering but surviving. The last of the bleary departed at the sound of a champagne cork popping.

Stunning colour - fresh, green gold. No brass. Fifty-years old and it certainly looks fresh and inviting.

Very wild & chestnut mushroom on the nose, followed by the creaminess of melted butter soaking through toast. Then there's a hint of green - apples, perhaps? The balance of freshness and maturity is remarkable.

Rich, luscious, decadent and fresh on the palate - the mousse is almost like the crema on a good espresso. Soft, gentle with fine hallmarks that would be noticeable only by there absence. Everything fits here - the structure and elegance provide a balance and completeness that forbids nitpicking the details. Exceptional, at its peak and while it may last a few more years, you probably ought to drink it now.

*****

Tasted 1/1/09 at Naughton

Warre's 1977

Nose is forest fruit, cassis, tar, bitter cherries, licorice, allspice, cinnamon and quite incredible mulled notes. Beautiful to sniff - a bit of heat but not too much.

Tasted while gorging on Christmas Stilton. Delightful and more-ish. Why fine port should lay down for a time. Balanced and a perfect compliment to the cheese. All those complexities from the nose in perfect harmony on the palate. Delightful - the ideal Christmas Port.

****

Tasted at Miller's Court 25/12/08

Chateau Pontet-Canet 1995

The edges are just beginning to crimson. Held up to the light and it's pure brilliance, deep and bloody and reflective of its character.

The nose is cedar wood and savoury with a touch of nuttiness, smokey with confit cassis compote. Potent and punchy on the front, softening as it lingers.

The palate is all the nose promises - a class Christmas claret that leaps up to the food - particularly good with the roast beef. Texture is silk and sandpaper - right at the middle of its maturity. Still some of the grip and aggression of youth but some softness creeping through. Lovely.

****

Tasted at Miller's Court 25/12/08

Barbeito Verdelho 1980

Tasting notes from the latter half of the evening tend to get shorter, more direct. Possibly due to the effect of all the wines to come before.

Smells of roast nuts & toffee, marzipan, financier cake and all manner of goodies. All of that follows through to the palate from the nose, but with salted oats and excellent gristy texture. Epic length with a lingering finish. Brilliant wine.

*****

Tasted at Shorehead 7/12/08

Warre's 1985

Reductive and tasting sadly of cough syrup. Needs a few years to wake up. Pity.

*(***?)

Tasted at Shorehead 7/12/08

Huet Vouvray Clos du Bourg Moulleux 1971 1ere Tres

Toasted honey and roasted lime with hints of winter spice backed by gripping acidity - beautifully balanced with sweet zing. The underlying minerality and flint provide great depth. This is a treat of a wine, fresh in spite of its age and truly fine. Lovely with the apple crumble.

*****

Tasted at Shorehead 7/12/08

Chateau La Lagune 1985

A touch of Victorian office about the nose - mahogany and leather with hints of cigar box.

Very soft on the palate - gentle stone fruit with supple texture. Slightly simple, but lovely nonetheless. Definitely at its peak.

****

Tasted at Shorehead 7/12/08

Chateau Lafite-Rothschild 1995 & 1996

These two wines caused a debate at the dinner table, dividing the diners. Some preferred the classic restraint of the '95, others the hedonistic opulence of the '96. Both were spectacular, reflecting their vintages, rendering the debate simply a matter of personal taste, rather than a judgement of quality.

I remained neutral.

1995

Roast meat, eucalyptus, blackcurrant and cedar - a classic claret nose with edges of licorice, spearmint, cloves and nutmeg.

The palate is not as expressive. Remarkably closed but promising - it's mostly mint coming through, with dark chocolate cherry & currant. Sinfully young, yet hard to resist.

****(*)

1996

Very spicy on the nose, much livelier - sweeter smoke with a touch more eucalyptus. Far headier.

The palate is almost monolithic - tar and glacé cherries with a touch of mint. Long and tactile, but still extraordinarily immature.

***(**)

Tasted at Shorehead 7/12/08

Domaine de la Romanée Conti La Tache 1998 (bottle no. 7198)

There's a point - for those in the wine trade - where you decide whether you're a Burgundy person or a Bordeaux person. It's hotly debated. Arguably the two most influential wine writers in the world are Bordeaux people - Michael Broadbent and Robert Parker. They just don't like Burgundy as much. The latter openly admits that he just doesn't get Burgundy.

I fall on the other side of the fence. I'm a Burgundy person. I love them and seek them out. Often I'm disappointed. Sometimes they just aren't good enough. The fickleness of Pinot Noir and the high prices the wines command sometimes combine to fall short of expectations. There are few guarantees. Claret can be a safer bet: a more defineable quantity. Because when Burgundy's good, when it exceeds expectations, it's hard to describe. It's not necessarily a linear or quantifiable pleasure. It goes more for feeling than flavour, and it's wonderful.

High expectations are dangerous in wine. The more you want something to taste good, the more likely you are to find fault, to be disappointed. Especially at the very heights of wine. There is the tendency to think that a constantly evolving agricultural product must be perfect when it's opened, regardless of what phase of maturity it has reached.

Being a Burgundy fan puts La Tache quite close to the top of my must-drink list. I'd never tried it before, and in the lead up to the dinner where we opened this bottle I tried to keep my hopes down to prevent any disappointment. What if it was corked? What if it was too young? What if it was going through an irksome 'reductive' phase (the wine equivelent of an annoying adolescent)?

The nose is explosive, gamey with a hint of smoke, forest floor and wild berries. There's a touch of stewed fruit but that clears with a bit of air. Aromatically intense, at actually bursts behind the eyes.

Sweet and hedonistic on the palate - cherries and cranberries with a touch of pipe tobacco. The finish goes on for ages, fading into the ephemeral and leaving its sensation long after the actual flavour has departed. This is a masculine style of Burgundy, with savoury game notes as well. There's something a touch reductive and enclosed though, not as much lift as I was expecting. Mouth-filling, beautiful, but something lacking?

It would be worth 5* if it weren't so bloody expensive. It also needed to be closer to perfect. Was I disappointed? Maybe a little.

****

Tasted at Shorehead 7/12/08

Corton Charlemagne 2000 Bonneau du Martray

There's something about great whites from terroir that lends itself more often to reds. I don't know what it is, but the result tends to be fantastically exotic. Jadot's Beaune Gréves Le Clos Blanc, Roy's Marsannay blanc, and this, the banner wine of the vineyard, all boast some underlying connection. It's getting to the point where I may not be able to spot blind whether a wine's from the Côte de Nuits or Côte de Beaune, but I could possibly spot whether the surrounding vineyards were Chardonnay or Pinot Noir.

Rich and toasted and touched by hints of caramel and spiced vanilla on the nose. Deep and intense. The palate is big and exotic - textured oak notes backed by zingy structured acidity. Clotted cream. cloves and cinammon provide fantastic secondaries. The fruit's tropical but tempered by pristine structure. This is mouth-filling, decadent, brilliant Burgundy. Still quite young. Drink with hand-dived scallops or perfectly seared foie gras. Or both.

****(*)

Tasted at Shorehead 7/12/08

Pieropan La Rocca Soave 2006 (from magnum)

I've never been disappointed by any of Pieropan's wines. They sit atop the whites of the Veneto, proving to the wine-swigging snobs out there that Italy's native varietals can compete without conforming to the increasingly boring international quality white paradigms. Pieropan makes Soave - not garganega (though garganega is the grape he thrives with) - and he makes it beautifully.

There's a touch of licorice and flint, backed by perfumed pineapple on the nose. The journey to the palate turns that perfume into spice, with fresh vibrant pear drop and a lovely richness that leads to a long finish. There are some cracking and far more expensive wines being drunk this evening. And while this may be one of the more simple and pleasing wines, it is in no way out-classed. Lovely.

****

Tasted at Shorehead 7/12/08

Salon 1990 (from magnum)

Salon has long been my favourite Champagne house. Long-lived and exceptionally fine, they achieve depth and poise equal to great white Burgundy. I've written about their wines before - they are a rare treat. I wish I had the means to enjoy them more often.

Brilliant platinum gold colour - youthful but classy.

Young, slightly spiced green apples on the nose. No toast or butter yet, no hint of wild mushrooms, just a touch of citrus zest and a fullness of body that pervades with a whisper of honey on the edges.

The palate seems slightly closed, young and tight. Incredibly promising though - textured and lingering with a remarkable finish that goes on and on. Erupts with food (a saffron & Prosecco risotto served pan-fried medallions of pork loin) - all the blank spots, those closed and quiet points in the mid-palate, open and a brilliant view of this wine's future pours in - rich with fresh blossom honey, candied apples and fresh baked croissants. Youthful, vigorous and promising. This will keep and improve for decades to come. Glorious.

****(*)

Tasted at Shorehead 7/12/08

Méo-Camuzet Bourgogne Rouge 2006

Méo-Camuzet make some of the finest wines in Burgundy. Their premier crus often fetch grand cru prices. I have very fond memories of their '91 Clos Vougeot, drunk when I graduated from the University of St Andrews, as the first fine Burgundy I ever had the pleasure of tasting. But previous vintages of this wine - their entry level red - have disappointed me. I found them too backwards and unyielding. Perhaps they were a little too young. I know a local merchant with few bottles of the '04 kicking about. I might have to revisit it.

Rich, translucent burgundy with youthful violet on the edges. Quite dark at the core, but still good clarity and brilliance.
Slightly sour cherries and cranberry fruit on the nose - heady and perfumed with a touch of sweetness.
The palate is a touch backward - tight tannins with all that fruit from the nose still gripping those tannins. Textured and a hint of the savoury about the mid-palate. Youthful and needing food but great structure with zingy acidity and more-ish red fruit. Lovely length. Will soften with cellaring but there's a crispness to its youth that I really like.
****
Tasted at The Seafood Restaurant St Andrews, 9/12/08

Dom Perignon 2000

Landmark vintages are a funny thing. Both 1900 and 2000 produced some remarkable Bordeaux (Chateau Margaux from the former is meant to be exquisite) and some remarkable prices to boot. At the time of the en primeur releases (and the first proper review tasting notes) there were quite a few cynical wine merchants scratching their chin stubble and wondering aloud whether it was somewhat convenient that such a landmark year produced such a landmark vintage. They still bought buckets of the stuff, obviously. And they made a packet. Until the hype surrounding 03's and 05's chipped away at those blue-chip 00's, proving that in the modern wine world a vintage is only great until the next great vintage. The prices more and more reflect exclusivity, desirability and a sense of get-it-before-anyone-else-does rather than actual quality of the wine. That's just a matter of points, apparently.

Recent economic disasters seem to be changing all this somewhat, and prices - while still outrageous - appear to be dropping daily, even for vintages hyped beyond all boundaries of common sense.

2000 sticks in my mind for a number of other reasons. It wasn't all that great throughout France, or Europe as a whole. The Rhône Valley didn't do too badly, Italy was still smiling about '97 and '99 and Burgundy was a bit of a minefield. The port houses all declared, but that's to be expected. They have the luxury of picking and choosing and 2000 was good enough to choose. I was just entering the wine trade while all these reports were coming out and it fascinated me. The ever-increasing hyperbole, prices and frenetic buying opened my eyes to the bewildering world of wine. Could a case of 12 bottles really be worth £4,000 while the wine was still in cask? Could I be offered the same 12 bottles 2 hours later for £5,000?

I'm older, wiser, grumpier and considerably more cynical now. En primeur season bores the shit out of me. My spam mailbox fills with brokers desperately trying to push case after case of 95-100 pointers at more money than I would ever, in good conscience or otherwise, pay for wine.

Champagne eluded the 2000 vintage hype, and for good reason. It wasn't a great vintage in Champagne. The wines are ok. Moët 2000 is particularly lovely, though that's more due to a radical (and long overdue) reform in winemaking and assemblage rather than the year itself. As it happens, I have no doubt that Dom Perignon 2000 will sell in vast quantities. It is the benchmark luxury champagne and - when it's great - it's one of the finest wines in the world. That perfectly round number on the label may even make it some form of collector's item. Well, even more of a collector's item than usual.

Dom Perignon 2000
Fresh green gold colour with an exciteable mousse composed of pinprick, hyperactive bubbles.
The nose is bursting with pear and white stone fruit with the barest hint of lemon citrus on the edges.
Silky palate of conference pears - not just in terms of flavour but texture as well, that graininess on the tongue. Nice finish. But it's a bit too youthful and pleasing for my taste. There's not a great deal of structure or acidity here. It's decadent, but in a light way. I'd call it elegant - but it doesn't have the structure for that. Perhaps it needs time, but I don't even get hints of a great future - just a pleasant now. I will come back to this in years to come, curious rather than eager.
***(*?)
Tasted in excellent and generous company at Naughton, 6/12/08

Chateau Gruaud Larose 1986

I'm sitting on a deck, staring out to where the Med would be, were the darkness of night not concealing its azure grandeur. There's a bit of a breeze. My body aches and stings with the injuries of vintage at the fantastic Coume del Mas. Nine days of back-breaking blood, sweat and tears and the hardest work I've ever done are over, and my understanding of where fine wine comes from has never been richer.

A few minutes ago, my host presented me with a decanted red and told me to guess. I'm usually good at blind tastings, but my host pretty much taught me most of what I know about wine and as such I suffer issues of confidence when tasting in his presence. I over-guess.

Anyway - I thought it was either Burgundian or Italian. A strange mix, I know. But that's a topic for another post. I couldn't really see the colour as it was dark. A truly blind tasting, really. Bringing it inside to the light revealed rusty edges but still a dark core. I shrugged my shoulders.

The nose was cherries and leather, with a soft rustic charm. A touch of spice. Perhaps a touch of wood, but old and no longer cedar.

The palate is gentle to start and finish, but robust and a touch wild in the middle. That should have been the giveaway really. Like with all wrong blind tastings, it became obvious once the answer was revealed. The cherries and leather from the nose come through on the palate - the fruit's a touch compote but it's ok because the mouthfeel is lovely throughout and to the last of the fantastic, lingering finish, It's not the perfect claret. It's better. It's old and lovely and honest and after everything, I couldn't want anything more.

****

Tasted in Collioure, 9/08

Chambolle-Musigny 1985 Louis Jadot

This bottle was a gift from an old friend who happens to own one of my favourite restaurants in the world. Thank you, Mr Jukes

Lovely old colour bit of rust on the edge, with fine ruby at the core. Warming. The nose is farmyardy, dusty old leather with stewed strawberries and cranberries. It smells soft.

The palate is still on form - the fruit's a bit stewed, but pure at the core. The texture is wonderful - supple, soft with velvet tannins and just the remains of grip. It goes surprisingly well with the goose egg carbonara. This is charming. Not much life left in it, but beautiful at the moment.

****
Tasted at South Street June 2008