Great Reds but….

Barolo and Barbaresco: 2 of Italy’s famous and iconic red wines.  Both from the Piedmont region, in the country’s north-west, this also home to an array of other very attractive and drinkable reds made from quality grape varieties such as Barbera and Dolcetto.  But how about if you want to drink one of the local whites?  There’s not a great choice!  There’s Gavi, of course, or ‘Gavi di Gavi’ as it’s often known, a staple of every Italian restaurant’s wine list but rarely producing anything very exciting.  And, if you like dessert wines, there’s the fragrant, delicate, gently sweet and lightly sparkling Moscato d’Asti – not to be confused with the decidedly inferior Asti Spumante.  Beyond those, the options are pretty scarce although one lesser-known white variety is having a minor resurgence in a new form.

Arneis is grown in small quantities alongside Nebbiolo and (contrary to the DOC rules) was often blended with that variety to soften the fierce tannins of Barolo.  That practice is rarely seen nowadays but a few growers are using the historic plantings of the grape in the Roero district and in the Langhe Hills to make an interesting, characterful white wine.  Roberto Sarotto’s ‘Srej’ (named after the vineyard and meaning ‘forest of turkey oaks’ in the local dialect) is a lovely, fresh, herby, floral wine with hints of ripe pear and melon.  Surprisingly rich and mouth-filling and, despite the website saying that the wine was aged in oak barrels, there is no obvious oak flavouring, just an enticing creamy palate and long, clean finish.  Available from Waitrose Cellars for £18 but I’d wait and watch for one of their multi-buy special offers that seem to come around quite regularly!

As for food pairing, the producer recommends pasta with ricotta and spinach, chicken or turkey dishes and cheeses such as pecorino or taleggio.  We went on a different track and teamed it with some kebabs of monkfish in a mildly spicy marinade – also a harmonious mix.

You won’t find Arneis on every wine merchant’s shelf but, if you do see one, I’d recommend you give it a try.

Beyond Retsina

If I asked many of my friends to name a Greek wine, the answer (if any) would probably be ‘Retsina’ – followed by some kind of derogatory comment.  And that is why Greek wine is such a hard sell today.  Although Greece has been making wines for around 3000 years and the country has many high-quality native grape varieties, most modern wine drinkers think only of the dire Retsina they have been served in the bars of the popular tourist resorts. Now Retsina – good Retsina (there is such a thing!) – has its place but it only represents a tiny fraction of the wines that Greece produces.  And there’s now a new generation of dedicated, dynamic winemakers in place so it’s surely time to explore the distinct and exciting tastes the country can produce.  The only question is, where to begin.

Perhaps with the Thymiopoulos family of northern Greece.  They have been farmers and grape growers for generations sending their harvest to the local cooperative for vinification. But when Apostolos Thymiopoulos took over from his father, he decided to study winemaking and vinify the family’s wines himself.  The results are certainly worth trying.  The Wine Society often have his ‘Young Vines’ Xinomavro on their list, delicious but unfortunately sold out at present, but his 2022 vintage Naoussa is still in Majestic at £15.50 – a real bargain.

A medium- to full-bodied red, not heavy and with an attractive palate of herbs, juicy cherry and raspberry fruit and a gentle hint of savoury spice from the very subtle oak ageing.  The grape name Xinomavro translates to ‘bitter black’ but there’s no sign of bitterness and the colour is a gentle ruby, rather than anything darker.  A lovely soft, mellow, harmonious wine to enjoy with a range of dishes – lamb, duck, mushrooms are just a few that spring to mind.

If you enjoy a nice Merlot or a young Rioja and want to experiment then Xinomavro – and particularly this one – should be on your list.  But, as I said earlier, Greece has so much to explore, this is just a start.

Ignore the Bubbles

Champagne and other sparkling wines are often chosen for a celebration, but how about drinking fizz throughout a meal?  And, if you do, should you choose different bottles to go with different dishes, as you would with still wines?  It’s a question we had a chance to explore when DBM Wines welcomed Sophie Dethune, proprietor of artisan Champagne grower/producer Paul Dethune to a local gastropub, The Kensington Arms, for a tasting of their wines over a specially designed dinner.

In the event, the bubbles proved to be largely incidental to any food and wine matching.  These Champagnes had real and distinct flavours, mostly from long ageing on their lees in oak casks, and it was these flavours, rather than the Champagne mousse itself, that harmonised (or, in one case, didn’t!) with the food.

After a welcoming aperitif of the lemony fresh Brut, the drier, richer, Blanc de Noirs (100% Pinot Noir) accompanied a light, appetising oyster starter.  The woody, biscuity, but floral Cuvée Prestige followed alongside some scallops with a cider and tarragon sauce before our main course was served: gurnard with a delicious black truffle infused risotto, the latter going perfectly with the Cuvée à l’Ancienne, one of Dethune’s flagship wines, bottled in 2016 and kept on its yeasty lees for more than 8 years developing a lovely buttery, nutty character.

For me the only non-match was the Rosé which was too dry to show well when served with the chocolate pannacotta as dessert.

All in all, an interesting evening with delicious food worthy of the high quality wines (all available from DBM Wines).  I left with the impression that, in answer to the questions I posed at the start, yes, you can drink sparkling wines throughout a meal and yes, you should try and match the wines to the dishes.  But I surprised myself in realising that you need to ignore the fact that the wines are sparkling; try and match the underlying flavours to the dishes you are serving in exactly the same way as you would with still wines.  And, on that basis, (with the one exception) chef and winemaker did a great job in the pairings.

Not Pinot Grigio!

Some grapes have a generally positive vibe about them – I’d say Cabernet Sauvignon and Pinot Noir fall into this group – whereas others, like Sauvignon Blanc and Merlot (yes, I still remember the film ‘Sideways’!) are looked upon more negatively.  But, perhaps, the worst reputation of all of this 2^nd group belongs to Pinot Grigio.  I even heard someone at a trade tasting once describe it as the grape for people who don’t really like the taste of wine.  Ouch!

It doesn’t have to be like that.   The problem is, to get a bottle on a supermarket shelf (where most wine is bought) for £5 or £6 requires growers to squeeze every last drop of juice out of every bunch.  This doesn’t suit Pinot Grigio – nor, indeed, any of the Pinot family (Noir, Blanc, etc) – all of which react well to lower yields in the vineyard.  Ignore this and you end up with one of the bland, dilute examples that have given the variety its poor reputation.  On the other hand, treat a Pinot well, give the grower leeway to prune harder and focus on only harvesting the best fruit and the difference can be amazing as we found when opening a delicious example from the St Michael-Eppan winery in the Alto Adige region of northern Italy.  Inevitably, the difference is reflected in the price; this one from Waitrose Cellars at £15.

The winery works with over 300 growers, many with vineyards at altitude in the foothills of the Dolomites, who supply only premium quality fruit to go into a wine of real substance.  Pale with hints of green in the glass, the typically restrained nose leads on to lovely citrus and subtle melon flavours.  There’s a surprising weight for a Pinot Grigio and a long, crisp, refreshing finish.  Perfect as an aperitif but it also had enough body and character to pair with some sea bass fillets cooked on a bed of olives, tomatoes and Mediterranean herbs.  And it wasn’t overpowered by the tasty Lancashire cheese that we enjoyed following our main course.

So, if you tend to avoid Pinot Grigio (or Pinot Gris – same grape but with its French naming), having been disappointed by insipid examples in the past, do try this.  It may just change your mind.

Oak and Tannin – Again!

Following up on my theme from last time, if I had to pick one dish that pairs perfectly with a wine showing both oak and tannin, it’s a good steak.  The proteins in the meat complement the tannins and the weight of the dish works well with a full and complex wine – and that usually involves some degree of oak influence.  And, although I’m not hung up on the ‘red wine with red meat, white wine with fish and chicken’ idea, I would struggle to find a white that matches a steak as well as a red.  Any ideas welcome, though.

So, we’re into the question of just which red to choose?  Something from the Rhône or South of France, a Chianti perhaps, an Australian Shiraz or Argentinian Malbec.   All would be fine and I can think of many other good examples.  In the end, I settled on Spain.  Not a Rioja, although many of those would work well, too; I picked a Tempranillo from Ribera del Duero, the same main grape variety as Rioja but from the high country to the west, Cune’s Roble (Waitrose, £13).

Unlike the more traditional designations (Crianza, Reserva or Gran Reserva) that the Spanish use to indicate a guaranteed minimum amount of oak ageing and a subsequent period of time spent maturing at the winery, the term ‘Roble’ doesn’t promise either of these.  And that proved to be a double problem with this wine.  The oaking was presumably relatively short as the vanilla and coconut flavouring it typically imparts was very restrained.  By contrast, the wine showed quite robust and, ultimately dominant, tannins.  Even having decanted it well in advance and paired with the steak, which normally moderates tannins, this wine (2024 vintage) still needed more time, ideally 3 – 5 years I would suggest, before being properly ready to drink.

It wasn’t a bad wine – far from it!  Lovely blackberry fruits and spice were there together with good acidity and a long finish.  It’s just that they were hiding behind the tannin wall.  A shame, as the delicious steak really deserved a more readily appealing partner.

Oak and Tannin

How does oak influence the taste of a wine?  Or tannin?  A recent tasting by Ras and Marek from Corks of Cotham (and North Street) focussed on just these 2 aspects – the former, entirely a decision of the winemaker, the other, a largely natural occurrence, although one that can be controlled to some extent either by the producer or by you, the customer.

6 wines demonstrated the impact of the 2 factors starting with Lyrarakis’ crisp, citrussy ‘Voila’ Assyrtiko from the Greek island of Crete (£17), an example of an unoaked white with no discernible tannin – a good base line from which to build.

We expect tannin from red wines but the currently fashionable (but ancient) technique of ‘orange’ wines – white wines made with the juice left in contact with the skins, in the same way you would make a red wine – can produce a tannic white as evidenced by Tiko’s Kisi from Georgia (£23).  Unusual and very much an acquired taste (or not!).

I’m not generally a great fan of oaked Chardonnays but Atamisque’s bottling from a high altitude vineyard in Argentina’s Mendoza region (£21) had a beautiful balance between fresh lemon and grapefruit flavours and coconutty oak from 10 months in new American oak barrels.  Very drinkable and food-friendly.

2 of the reds showed the extremes of oak and tannin perfectly.  L’Artiste’s unoaked Gamay Noir from the Loire, not Beaujolais (£15), was quite simple in style but just so juicy and quaffable with the grape’s typical lack of tannin adding to the attraction. A total contrast to the final wine, Perelada’s 5 Finques from Catalonia (£21), an intense, spicy black-fruited wine aged for 12 months in a mixture of French and American oak and still, despite already being 6 years old, showing strong tannins from old vines and thick-skinned varieties such as the blend of Cabernet Sauvignon and Syrah.  For me, a wine to be kept a few years for the tannins to integrate.

A different take on a wine tasting but one that showed the effect of these 2 particular aspects of wine flavouring very well.

It’s Chile Time

There are now so many different wines made across the world that it’s easy to ignore regions, countries – or even whole continents.  I’m trying to put that right and be less Europe-focussed at present, perhaps prompted by the main feature articles on the wines of South America in the current edition of Decanter magazine and, perhaps, by the delicious Pais I blogged about a couple of weeks ago.  For whatever reason, last weekend turned out to be Chile time in our household – one white and one red.

The former, Matetic’s EQ Quartz Chardonnay from the cool, coastal San Antonio Valley (Wine Society, £16) was delightfully clean and fresh with peachy fruit enhanced (but not dominated) by being fermented in French oak barrels.  A lovely wine and perfect with creamy sauces but…  Nothing about this wine said to me ‘Chile’.  This was just one more to add to the vast ranks of very drinkable, lightly oaked Chardonnays from wherever when I was hoping for something more distinctive.

Which is exactly what I got from Ignacio Recabarren’s Pinot Noir from the similarly cool Casablanca Valley (Wine Society, £18).  Not a lot on the nose but, once we tasted it, we enjoyed mouthfuls of ripe, juicy blackberry fruit that went on and on into a long, savoury finish and paired perfectly with one of our favourite dishes, pan-fried duck breasts cooked with a sauce of cranberries, spices and balsamic vinegar.  In this wine, the Pinot Noir was clearly recognisable but it was not like anything you’d find from Burgundy or from New Zealand.  Here was something that truly offered a different taste; whether it was typical of Chile – I don’t know, I haven’t tried enough examples but, based on this, I’m keen to keep tasting. 

Chile is just one of the countries covered in this month’s Decanter.  I must get some Argentinian and Uruguayan wines in stock soon so that I can really say that I’ve read and inwardly digested the whole magazine.

Not Only New Zealand

One of the great wine success stories of the last few decades has, undoubtedly, been New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc.  It has emerged from nowhere to feature on every supermarket or wine merchant’s shelves.  Its pungent, gooseberry-leaf nose and tangy palate isn’t to everyone’s taste, but, if you’re not a fan of that style, don’t let that put you off Sauvignon Blanc altogether. 

Instead, look back to the grape’s origins in France (the Loire and Bordeaux), where the wines produced from the variety are generally much more restrained.  Yes, the trademark high acidity and citrus or gooseberry flavours are still present, as anyone who has tasted a Sancerre, a Sauvignon de Touraine or an Entre Deux Mers, for example, will confirm, yet, somehow, in a more mellow way compared to wines from New Zealand.  And, in my view, much more food-friendly as a result.

Domaine Guenault’s Les Racines du Soleil (Wine Society, a bargain at £11.95) is, perhaps, not entirely typical, being much richer, mouth-filling and peachier than many Sauvignons thanks to 12 months ageing while remaining on its lees (the dead yeast cells that can add a delightful savoury character to a wine).  Quite deeply coloured – almost a pale gold – and with a lovely smooth, clean palate, impressive complexity and great length.  A fine match to any dish – fish or poultry – in a creamy sauce and perfectly drinkable on its own as an aperitif.

The wine comes from one of the less well-known Appellations of the central Loire, Chenonceaux, just east of Tours on the Cher river – possibly hence the price.  The vineyard has excellent exposure the sun on south-facing slopes of free-draining clay-limestone and flint soils – ideal for perfect ripening of the Sauvignon grapes and contributing to the generosity of flavour.

Lovers of New Zealand Sauvignon may be surprised at what they find but, hopefully, not disappointed.  For me, this is a prime example of the ‘other’ style of this fashionable variety.

500 and Counting

I doubt whether many wine lovers will recognise the grape name Pais but it holds a special place in the minds of wine historians.  For the variety, also known as Criolla, is thought to be descended from vines raised from the seeds of grapes imported by the Spanish conquistadors.  That dates its arrival in Central and South America to the first half of the 16^th century and means that it has been grown across Mexico, Chile and Argentina for almost 500 years without a break.  The same variety, under another local name – the Mission grape – found its way to California a couple of hundred years later, where it remained an important variety until almost wiped out by the spread of phylloxera in the 1880s. 

So, with that long history in the Americas, why is it not better known?  Initially, it was mainly used to produce wine for use in church services – never very high quality – and, subsequently, for much of the time, the focus has been on basic, everyday wines, leaving the better-known international varieties, such as Merlot and Malbec, to satisfy more demanding consumers.

Yet, carefully handled, Pais can produce something very attractive. Clos de Luz’s Agras (Wine Society, £13.95) from 100 year old vines grown in Chile’s Almahue Valley is a good example.  Quite pale in colour with a pleasant nose of red fruits.  More of the same on the light- to medium-bodied palate alongside some subtle hints of oak from 10 months’ ageing in medium sized old oak barrels.  The style is slightly rustic but the wine is very drinkable and food friendly – a lamb stew or perhaps some sausages would go well.  The 2023 vintage we opened is perfect for drinking now; I wouldn’t keep it too much longer. 

But I will be looking out for other examples of Pais (or Criolla) as adventurous South American producers realise how to get the best from this ancient variety.

Wine for 12th Night?

The Canary Islands are a popular destination for British holidaymakers attracted to a climate offering warmth and sunshine, even during the winter months.  But, with the Islands’ position off the west coast of Africa at latitudes in the upper 20s, few would expect to find any interesting local wines.  Yet they’ve been making wine there for centuries and, although virtually unknown now in the UK, were so popular in Shakespeare’s time, that he even mentioned them by name in Twelfth Night!  

Some (Shakespeare-loving!) friends of ours have visited the Islands often so, when I saw a bottle of Canaries wine on the Wine Society’s list, I thought it would be worth buying and to invite them over to share, as well as an opportunity for me to taste something new.  Piedra Fluida’s Listán Negro (£17) is a lovely soft, plummy red made from 80 year old pre-phylloxera vines grown 600m up on the island of Tenerife.  The altitude helps keep the wine fresh and the brief ageing in French and American oak barrels gives a savoury character with good complexity and length.  The 2021 vintage we tasted was still quite youthful with hints of tannin so no need to drink up quickly.  We partnered it with a Chicken and chickpea stew – a recipe from the Canaries that we found online – and it went really well, but lamb or duck would be equally good.

As for the grape variety Listán Negro, we know very little for certain.  It is thought that it was once cultivated on the Spanish mainland and brought to the Canaries from there, but there is no record of it still being grown commercially in Spain – or indeed, anywhere else in the world.  It thrives in the volcanic and mineral-rich soils of the islands and local producers use it to make a variety of different styles from the Merlot-lookalike we enjoyed to something lighter and more akin to a Beaujolais. 

But with few being exported, it looks like a trip to the Canaries for a little research is the only option!