A Zoom tasting with two wines from Cambridge Wine Merchants
There are a couple of ways to do virtual wine tasting: a) same grapes but different wines, or b) all the same wines.
Format a) works well for those who want to study grape variety characteristics for blind tasting; format b) works better where people want to compare and contrast the exact same wines.
For this Format b) tasting, I chose a Languedoc Picpoul and a Puglian Primitivo, both from Cambridge Wine Merchants.
First, a couple of wine facts:
- Picpoul is the grape, Pinet is the place (France normally does not include grape names in appellations); it comes in blanc, noir and gris versions and is little found outside Languedoc.
- Primitivo is the same grape as California's Zinfandel and originated in Croatia as Crljenak Kaštelanski / Tribidrag; it is thin-skinned, likes the heat and produces high-alcohol wines.
RC Picpoul de Pinet, 2018 (£10) produced by Sainte Croix, it is fresh and saline with orchard fruits, honeydew melon, white flowers and sweet spices.
Opens up with a bit of aeration.
Thoroughly pleasant.
Drink as an aperitif or match with seafood starters.
Vigneti del Salento, I Muri Primitivo, 2018 (£12) expressive ripe, dark fruits, concentrated if slightly jammy but finishes fresh with well-integrated, ripe tannins.
Thoroughly pleasant.
Match with roast beef or lamb.
Tuesday, 5 May 2020
Sunday, 3 May 2020
Sangiovese vs Corvina
More MW study assistance with two Italian varieties from Cambridge Wine Merchants
Another week, another MW study support session for a friend.
I've never quite gotten into Italy; I've had plenty of wines that I've enjoyed, but don't really feel that I understand the country properly.
From this blind-tasting study session, I learn that Chianti is Italy's largest sub-region by wine volume and that Valpolicella is next - both wines are high in acidity, so need to be matched with food. Both grapes require specific growing conditions so are little seen outside Italy.
Sangiovese, a Tuscan grape with lots of synonyms, is highly prone to mutation, up there with Pinot Noir for genetic variation.
Valpolicella, from Veneto in the north east, comes as:
- classico (juicy, fresh)
- amarone (concentrated - some of the grapes are air-dried for ripe intensity)
- ripasso (re-uses the skins from amarone to give something in-between)
My Sangiovese is not a Chianti; it's a declassified Brunello di Montalcino labelled simply vino rosso. All the grapes could technically be labelled DOCG Brunello di Montalcino but not quite making the grade for the first wine, are blended across years (hence the NV). The off-cuts, if you will; this is a baby Brunello at a fraction of the price.
Sopra Sasso Valpolicella Ripasso 2015, Italy (£15) juicy, soft red-berry and red plum fruit with some ripasso richness, spice and a touch of old leather; fresh, linear acidity, supple texture with very fine, well-integrated tannins; long, concentrated and flawless.
Good.
Match with meaty pasta dishes or duck.
Rosso del Palazzone, vino rosso, NV, Italy (£15) red fruits, sour cherry, liquorice, spice and woodsy leatheriness; very fresh with firm but very fine tannins. Good structure, needs food.
Good.
Match with darker game.
Another week, another MW study support session for a friend.
I've never quite gotten into Italy; I've had plenty of wines that I've enjoyed, but don't really feel that I understand the country properly.
From this blind-tasting study session, I learn that Chianti is Italy's largest sub-region by wine volume and that Valpolicella is next - both wines are high in acidity, so need to be matched with food. Both grapes require specific growing conditions so are little seen outside Italy.
Sangiovese, a Tuscan grape with lots of synonyms, is highly prone to mutation, up there with Pinot Noir for genetic variation.
Valpolicella, from Veneto in the north east, comes as:
- classico (juicy, fresh)
- amarone (concentrated - some of the grapes are air-dried for ripe intensity)
- ripasso (re-uses the skins from amarone to give something in-between)
My Sangiovese is not a Chianti; it's a declassified Brunello di Montalcino labelled simply vino rosso. All the grapes could technically be labelled DOCG Brunello di Montalcino but not quite making the grade for the first wine, are blended across years (hence the NV). The off-cuts, if you will; this is a baby Brunello at a fraction of the price.
Sopra Sasso Valpolicella Ripasso 2015, Italy (£15) juicy, soft red-berry and red plum fruit with some ripasso richness, spice and a touch of old leather; fresh, linear acidity, supple texture with very fine, well-integrated tannins; long, concentrated and flawless.
Good.
Match with meaty pasta dishes or duck.
Rosso del Palazzone, vino rosso, NV, Italy (£15) red fruits, sour cherry, liquorice, spice and woodsy leatheriness; very fresh with firm but very fine tannins. Good structure, needs food.
Good.
Match with darker game.
Saturday, 2 May 2020
In Praise of Wine Scores and Wine Education: The CWB Lidl-Off
Two Lidl wines selected by MW Richard Bampfield
Being an analytical sort of person, I rather like wine scores; done properly, they provide a transparent currency for quality. A 91-pointer is better than an 89-er? File under No shit, Sherlock.
Of course, the reality is not quite as simple as that. As W. Edwards Deming observed, “without data you’re just another person with an opinion”. Since wine scoring has no objective, universally-agreed, independently-verifiable test for quality, wine scorers are inevitably trading in no more than (informed) personal opinions based around a normative standard.
Nic Rezzouk of Manchester's Reserve Wines makes the observation of scoring, "agreement is generally broad and uneven. Even with the pros."
So, there are scores and there are scores.
In an imperfect world, then, the most reliable approach is someone with a demonstrably flawless palate and a consistency of scorer (i.e. the same person scoring). In the case of Lidl's Wine Tour range, you get both; all the wines in the range are rated by a single person and that person is Master of Wine, Richard Bampfield.
Taken in isolation, scores (like any data) are meaningless - what does it mean for a wine to score, say, 88 points? It is only when looking at trends or making comparisons (with other wines or with other data points), that scores become meaningful.
There are at least three immediate uses for a reliable, consistent set of wine scores:
Transparent Quality Index
A wine with higher score is better than a wine with a lower score; if this sounds obvious, remember that most wines do not carry a score. Then, have a think about how you decide what to buy when faced with a "wall of wine" at a supermarket.
If only there were some way of easily comparing the quality of the bottle contents, eh?
Value For Money ratio
In an ideal world, the more you pay for something, the better it would be. The real world does not work like this, of course, and you can find a £5.99 90-pointer next to a £10.99 89-er.
A better wine that is cheaper than a less-good wine; how does that work?
This is where softer factors like personal preference and fashion come into play: the 90-point wine turns out to be a tricky-selling off-dry German Riesling blend, while the more-expensive-but-less-good £10.99 wine is a popular, premium-region Bordeaux.
Palate education
If you want to learn what factors make a wine good, taste high-scorers and compare against lower-scoring wines to identify quality differences.
Having tried both the Bordeaux (2016 and 2017 vintages) and the Riesling (2018), I expected the Bordeaux to be the better-rated wine, whereas Richard gives it one mark less. I felt it had good fruit, good underpinnings and was well-structured. By contrast, I found the Riesling technically very well-made, harmonious and balanced but perhaps a little unassuming.
I dropped a note to Richard asking him how he had arrived at his conclusions and what I was missing.
He replied that he had marked the St Emilion down a little for being a bit chunky, not the classiest oak integration and lacking finesse - plenty of flavour, some structure but not the finest.
By contrast, he had marked the Riesling-Scheurebe up for its purity of aroma, subtle reflections of both grapes, excellent acid/fruit balance and pure drinkability.
Educating Rita
This is not the first time I have found myself underappreciating the delicate finesse of a white and being unduly forgiving of chunky tannins. I love inexpensive, characterful regional French reds, but have rarely got excited about more delicate wines such as Condrieu or red Burgundy.
This realisation gives me pause for thought.
One of the key themes of the Willy Russell play Educating Rita is the tension between education and authenticity; does education make you a better person, or just more of a conformist with a set of identikit notions?
To put it in wine appreciation terms, the more you educate your palate, the more wines you don't like.
As an instinctive non-conformist, I have eschewed formal wine education, avoided the classics (mostly) and sought out left-field wines from Austria, Hungary and Romania, as well as a few more unusual countries.
To what extent do I want to make an effort to be less impressed with something I thought was good whilst getting more excited about something I thought was OK but nothing special?
I still haven't decided.
Education is a little like the evolution of a wine with age; certain things are gained, and others are lost. So we need to weigh up for ourselves whether what is to be gained will be greater than what is lost before embarking on the journey.
I think the answer to the conundrum of why would you go out of your way to enjoy fewer wines is that wine enjoyment is not linear or fixed; the ability to enjoy a smaller number wines need not be worse than having no limits on your enjoyment.
Enjoyment is not a zero-sum game; a greater enjoyment of a smaller number of more expensive wines (the inevitable end result of wine education, I find) can be a more rewarding experience.
Being an analytical sort of person, I rather like wine scores; done properly, they provide a transparent currency for quality. A 91-pointer is better than an 89-er? File under No shit, Sherlock.
Of course, the reality is not quite as simple as that. As W. Edwards Deming observed, “without data you’re just another person with an opinion”. Since wine scoring has no objective, universally-agreed, independently-verifiable test for quality, wine scorers are inevitably trading in no more than (informed) personal opinions based around a normative standard.
Nic Rezzouk of Manchester's Reserve Wines makes the observation of scoring, "agreement is generally broad and uneven. Even with the pros."
So, there are scores and there are scores.
In an imperfect world, then, the most reliable approach is someone with a demonstrably flawless palate and a consistency of scorer (i.e. the same person scoring). In the case of Lidl's Wine Tour range, you get both; all the wines in the range are rated by a single person and that person is Master of Wine, Richard Bampfield.
Taken in isolation, scores (like any data) are meaningless - what does it mean for a wine to score, say, 88 points? It is only when looking at trends or making comparisons (with other wines or with other data points), that scores become meaningful.
There are at least three immediate uses for a reliable, consistent set of wine scores:
Transparent Quality Index
A wine with higher score is better than a wine with a lower score; if this sounds obvious, remember that most wines do not carry a score. Then, have a think about how you decide what to buy when faced with a "wall of wine" at a supermarket.
If only there were some way of easily comparing the quality of the bottle contents, eh?
Value For Money ratio
In an ideal world, the more you pay for something, the better it would be. The real world does not work like this, of course, and you can find a £5.99 90-pointer next to a £10.99 89-er.
A better wine that is cheaper than a less-good wine; how does that work?
This is where softer factors like personal preference and fashion come into play: the 90-point wine turns out to be a tricky-selling off-dry German Riesling blend, while the more-expensive-but-less-good £10.99 wine is a popular, premium-region Bordeaux.
Palate education
If you want to learn what factors make a wine good, taste high-scorers and compare against lower-scoring wines to identify quality differences.
Having tried both the Bordeaux (2016 and 2017 vintages) and the Riesling (2018), I expected the Bordeaux to be the better-rated wine, whereas Richard gives it one mark less. I felt it had good fruit, good underpinnings and was well-structured. By contrast, I found the Riesling technically very well-made, harmonious and balanced but perhaps a little unassuming.
I dropped a note to Richard asking him how he had arrived at his conclusions and what I was missing.
He replied that he had marked the St Emilion down a little for being a bit chunky, not the classiest oak integration and lacking finesse - plenty of flavour, some structure but not the finest.
By contrast, he had marked the Riesling-Scheurebe up for its purity of aroma, subtle reflections of both grapes, excellent acid/fruit balance and pure drinkability.
Educating Rita
This is not the first time I have found myself underappreciating the delicate finesse of a white and being unduly forgiving of chunky tannins. I love inexpensive, characterful regional French reds, but have rarely got excited about more delicate wines such as Condrieu or red Burgundy.
This realisation gives me pause for thought.
One of the key themes of the Willy Russell play Educating Rita is the tension between education and authenticity; does education make you a better person, or just more of a conformist with a set of identikit notions?
To put it in wine appreciation terms, the more you educate your palate, the more wines you don't like.
As an instinctive non-conformist, I have eschewed formal wine education, avoided the classics (mostly) and sought out left-field wines from Austria, Hungary and Romania, as well as a few more unusual countries.
To what extent do I want to make an effort to be less impressed with something I thought was good whilst getting more excited about something I thought was OK but nothing special?
I still haven't decided.
Education is a little like the evolution of a wine with age; certain things are gained, and others are lost. So we need to weigh up for ourselves whether what is to be gained will be greater than what is lost before embarking on the journey.
I think the answer to the conundrum of why would you go out of your way to enjoy fewer wines is that wine enjoyment is not linear or fixed; the ability to enjoy a smaller number wines need not be worse than having no limits on your enjoyment.
Enjoyment is not a zero-sum game; a greater enjoyment of a smaller number of more expensive wines (the inevitable end result of wine education, I find) can be a more rewarding experience.
Sunday, 26 April 2020
Gewürztraminer vs Riesling
An MW-study lesson in blind tasting with a Gewürztraminer from Cambridge Wine and a Riesling blend from Lidl
Gewürztraminer and Riesling are both somewhat geeky wines and, in this country at least, a bit of a niche interest.
Both have a spiritual home in Germany, as well as Alsace (which is either a bit Germanic or an actual part of Germany, depending on which period of history you consider).
In the glass however, they are very different grapes; Gewürztraminer is typically rich and perfumed ("lychees and roses" is the standard descriptor) whereas Riesling is higher in acidity, lower in alcohol and develops a "dieselly" nose with age.
Gewürztraminer's key non-flavour characteristic is a fuller body with a waxy-oily exture, whilst Riesling's is a precise linearity to its acidic structure.
Of the two varieties, Riesling is probably the easier to find in the UK; the Riesling blend was selected by MW Richard Bampfield for Lidl.
Gewurztraminer Réserve, 2018, Cave Hunawihr (£14, Cambridge Wine Merchants) sweet spices, ripe yellow stone fruits, pineapple and passionfruit; supple and full with a rich, waxy-oily texture balanced by gentle acidity; off-dry with some residual sugar but finishes dry.
Good.
Match with rich Alsatian dishes, such as tarte flambee or liver pate.
Riesling Scheurebe Halbtrocken, Rheinhessen, 2018 (£5.99, Lidl) citrussy and fresh with floral aromatics, yellow stone fruit, minerality and some herbaceous blackurrant leaf. Supremely elegant and well-balanced; finishes dry.
Good.
Drink as an aperitif or a garden sipper.
Gewürztraminer and Riesling are both somewhat geeky wines and, in this country at least, a bit of a niche interest.
Both have a spiritual home in Germany, as well as Alsace (which is either a bit Germanic or an actual part of Germany, depending on which period of history you consider).
In the glass however, they are very different grapes; Gewürztraminer is typically rich and perfumed ("lychees and roses" is the standard descriptor) whereas Riesling is higher in acidity, lower in alcohol and develops a "dieselly" nose with age.
Gewürztraminer's key non-flavour characteristic is a fuller body with a waxy-oily exture, whilst Riesling's is a precise linearity to its acidic structure.
Of the two varieties, Riesling is probably the easier to find in the UK; the Riesling blend was selected by MW Richard Bampfield for Lidl.
Gewurztraminer Réserve, 2018, Cave Hunawihr (£14, Cambridge Wine Merchants) sweet spices, ripe yellow stone fruits, pineapple and passionfruit; supple and full with a rich, waxy-oily texture balanced by gentle acidity; off-dry with some residual sugar but finishes dry.
Good.
Match with rich Alsatian dishes, such as tarte flambee or liver pate.
Riesling Scheurebe Halbtrocken, Rheinhessen, 2018 (£5.99, Lidl) citrussy and fresh with floral aromatics, yellow stone fruit, minerality and some herbaceous blackurrant leaf. Supremely elegant and well-balanced; finishes dry.
Good.
Drink as an aperitif or a garden sipper.
Monday, 20 April 2020
Montalto Collezione di Famiglia Syrah 2018 Terre Siciliane
A good-value Sicilian Syrah from Cambridge Wine Merchants
Syrah is a late-ripening, warm-climate grape; originally from the Northern Rhône, it also likes the heat of Australia and California.
It produces dark-coloured wines with plenty of fruit, acidity and tannins that are expressive in youth and that can also be aged.
This example is from Sicily which has no particular tradition of producing Syrah; nonetheless, this one has turned out very well.
Montalto Collezione di Famiglia Syrah 2018 Terre Siciliane (£10.99, Cambridge Wine Merchants) ripe, juicy bramble fruits, dark berries and plums with florality, a dusting of sweet spice and a twist of mint; fresh, mineral and supple with perfectly ripe tannins and good underpinnings.
Drinking nicely now and will also age.
Good.
Match with rare roast beef or steak.
Syrah is a late-ripening, warm-climate grape; originally from the Northern Rhône, it also likes the heat of Australia and California.
It produces dark-coloured wines with plenty of fruit, acidity and tannins that are expressive in youth and that can also be aged.
This example is from Sicily which has no particular tradition of producing Syrah; nonetheless, this one has turned out very well.
Montalto Collezione di Famiglia Syrah 2018 Terre Siciliane (£10.99, Cambridge Wine Merchants) ripe, juicy bramble fruits, dark berries and plums with florality, a dusting of sweet spice and a twist of mint; fresh, mineral and supple with perfectly ripe tannins and good underpinnings.
Drinking nicely now and will also age.
Good.
Match with rare roast beef or steak.
Vinovalie, Les Galets d'Olt, Cahors, 2015
A fresh and elegant aged Cahors Malbec from Vinovalie
Malbec was, until the 1950s, a blending grape in Bordeaux for beefing up lighter, paler wines; now representing just 1% of the Bordeaux vineyard, its French home has become Cahors where it is traditionally dark, chewy and rather rustic.
A driving holiday last year took us to the region where we stocked up on everyday medal-winners. This wine, like all the others purchased locally, is very different from the stereotype for Cahors; paler, fresher, lower in alcohol and tannins, it has been made with quite the gentle hand in the cellar.
Vinovalie, Les Galets d'Olt, Cahors 2015 (c. €5, Intermarché) juicy red and dark berries, plums and blueberries with vanilla spice and freshness; very fine, well-integrated, gentle tannins. Savoury, with good underpinnings.
Good.
Match with pork rillettes or paté.
For more background on the history of Cahors wine and its three informal classifications (Tradition, Prestige and Speciale), see this excellent summary from Tom Cannavan on his wine-pages site.
Malbec was, until the 1950s, a blending grape in Bordeaux for beefing up lighter, paler wines; now representing just 1% of the Bordeaux vineyard, its French home has become Cahors where it is traditionally dark, chewy and rather rustic.
A driving holiday last year took us to the region where we stocked up on everyday medal-winners. This wine, like all the others purchased locally, is very different from the stereotype for Cahors; paler, fresher, lower in alcohol and tannins, it has been made with quite the gentle hand in the cellar.
Vinovalie, Les Galets d'Olt, Cahors 2015 (c. €5, Intermarché) juicy red and dark berries, plums and blueberries with vanilla spice and freshness; very fine, well-integrated, gentle tannins. Savoury, with good underpinnings.
Good.
Match with pork rillettes or paté.
For more background on the history of Cahors wine and its three informal classifications (Tradition, Prestige and Speciale), see this excellent summary from Tom Cannavan on his wine-pages site.
Sunday, 19 April 2020
Kilikanoon Prodigal Grenache 2012
An aged Aussie Grenache from Cambridge Wine Merchants
Hot-climate Grenache is one of the world's most widely planted red wine grapes and is often blended with Syrah and Mourvèdre - the classic "GSM blend".
Low in acid and tannin, not suited for oak aging (it oxidises easily), mature varietal Grenache is something of a rarity. Which makes this example all the more interesting; eight years old now, made from sixty year-old vines and aged in old oak.
Kilikanoon Prodigal Grenache, Clare Valley, 2012 (£22, Cambridge Wine Merchants) tar, leather, soft red fruits and spice, complex and evolved with supple, old-vine concentration, freshness and well-integrated, very fine tannins.
Fully mature and drinking nicely now, but opens up with some aeration.
Good.
Match with darker game, such as roast duck.
Hot-climate Grenache is one of the world's most widely planted red wine grapes and is often blended with Syrah and Mourvèdre - the classic "GSM blend".
Low in acid and tannin, not suited for oak aging (it oxidises easily), mature varietal Grenache is something of a rarity. Which makes this example all the more interesting; eight years old now, made from sixty year-old vines and aged in old oak.
Kilikanoon Prodigal Grenache, Clare Valley, 2012 (£22, Cambridge Wine Merchants) tar, leather, soft red fruits and spice, complex and evolved with supple, old-vine concentration, freshness and well-integrated, very fine tannins.
Fully mature and drinking nicely now, but opens up with some aeration.
Good.
Match with darker game, such as roast duck.
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