(Note:this is posted for two purposes:one is to buy me a little time to organise my
notes from Essência do Vinho – there were several groups of wines that stood
out for me, and I want to do some further background research on those before
posting details.Second is in response
to some feedback about my comments on wines, this is offered partially as a rumination on
tasting generally and partially as an explanation of what I am and am not
trying to do here.)
Why are you always so dim and vague about tasting notes,
Cynthia?“Fruit and earth” to describe a
wine’s flavour isn’t really helpful, is it?
Well… depends what you want.
This blog was begun on a bit of a lark for an audience of
friends when I quit the City and ran away to Burgundy to work my first
harvest.Since then the blog has become
a rather more serious affair for me, not only because I have committed to
pursuing a career in the wine trade myself, but because I learned that a
broader network of wine enthusiasts and professionals had picked up on it, and
were following it and giving me feedback.
Because of the broader audience I am more careful than ever
to double check names, web links, facts, etc., occasionally working with the
relevant folks to review my postings before they go up. But – I still am deliberately keeping this a
very personal and idiosyncratic blog (strains of “It’s my party…”).I am not, and don’t want to be mistaken for (“fat
chance” I hear you mutter) the sort of wine critic that makes or breaks sales
of wines.If you are a stranger, think
of me as simply an enthusiastic friend who wants to share with you something I
think is wonderful and fascinating.
I have had WSET training to Advanced certificate level, I
have attended other wine courses and I couldn’t number the tastings, tutored
tastings and producer tasting dinners I attended in London the past 8 or 10
years before setting out on my travels last summer and ultimately re-settling
here in Portugal.I worked behind the
scenes at the International Wine Challenge last year and I’ve had the
opportunity to attend press tastings and some of the big en-primeurs where I
watched and eavesdropped on a few of The Big Names in wine buying and wine reviews
as they worked rooms and bottles.So, I
do have a sense of how the professional critics work.And bluntly, I ain’t up to that standard.Don’t know if I will ever grow up to be one,
and honestly I’m not even sure if I would want to.They have my deepest respect (mostly).
In a way, I think I don’t want to take it THAT
seriously.To me, wine is a pleasure, a
real joy, and it is meant for sharing.I
absolutely cannot drink alone – not for moral reasons, but because it simply
breaks my heart not to be able to share and discuss a wonderful bottle with a
like minded friend.The blog is an
extension of that impulse.
Back to the matter of technical (or not) tasting notes.Over and over again I have found one person’s
banana is another’s vanilla bean, or my cherry is your raspberry.Sensory perceptions can be intensely personal,
shaped by what’s familiar to you – Proust and his madeleines.One example that comes to mind is
violets.I often encountered the tasting
note of violet applied to burgundian reds – which I adore and have tasted
widely and never picked up on violet.I
finally figured out why last spring when I spotted a clump of violets in my
garden, and got down on my hands and knees and buried my nose in them.Violets to me meant a slightly powdery sweet grandmothery
scent, something I think I must have learned from violet confectionary and
violet eau de cologne or talc.Imagine
my shock when I got my nose into that clump and discovered an incredibly earthy
scent – floral, but so sensual and earthy as to be nearer civet than rose (and
by the way, I picked some and smelled them again inside the house, after
washing the mud off my hands, and they still smelled earthy).My immediate reaction to the violets was, I
think, Nuits St. Georges.Like the time
I sniffed the truffles on my plate and was struggling to identify the scent –
wasn’t that a Cigliutti Barbaresco?
I think some people – the major critics apparently among
them – have a good “absolute” sense of smell and can recall and identify scents
cleanly, and parse out what’s in the blend – one scent doesn’t distract them
from another.As if they have tapped
into the Platonic eternal ideal Form of what a red currant scent is, un-swayed
by memories of the scent of their mother’s garden when they were a child, where
the currant bushes were surrounded by mint and bergamot perhaps. It’s a gift.
Coming back down to earth and the sensible world, my tasting
notes are deliberately a little vague for these reasons:first, that detailed scent perception, certainly
mine, is often intensely personal, and second, that this blog is meant only for
friendly guidance – along the lines of“if
you like broadly earthy tannic reds, then here’s one you may want to try if you
get the chance…” If you want really
detailed guidance to flavour notes, value for money and buying or investment
advice, please refer to the big name professional critics’ pages.
Or best of all – find a good wine salesman whose preferences
you share, and whose palate you trust.There were two firms I dealt with in London, and at both firms, though I
knew and thoroughly respected everyone on the selling staff, I ended up working
with just one person at each.When we
talked over wines we both had drunk, and I realised we were perceiving and
enjoying the same qualities and taste sensations in wine, I knew I could trust
their recommendations on wines I had never tasted, and be certain of enjoying
them.And it worked – I cannot remember
the last time I bought a wine I really didn’t like.Also, rather amusingly, in the case of the
smaller firm, I got to the point where I could recognise who had picked the
wines for that night’s tasting – my salesman or one of his colleagues.
Sunday night as I was leaving Essência do Vinho, I wanted a
glass of port to see me off for the night.Someone at the Heritage Wines table poured for me a glass of Romariz
Colheita 1988.I tasted it, and then
thought, I don’t want to rush this (he’d given me a generous measure) and asked,
do you think they will let me walk out of here with a glass full of wine?He said, why not?Silly me, I’m in Portugal… so I wandered out
and slowly wended my way up Rua das Flores towards São Bento metro
station.The fresh cool air was a slight
shock – I hadn’t appreciated just how stuffy and warm it was in the Palácio –
and when I paused to sip my wine again, it had improved.Inside what hit my nose was the alcohol and
something I think wasglycerin, but
outside in the fresh air it was more pleasant, some fruit and burnt honey began
to come out.1988 was a fairly rough
year in the Douro, but being a bit rough myself at the end of a long night, we
were well matched.
So one more factor in wine tasting – climatic conditions in
the tasting venue.Maybe like Constable
on his paintings, I should begin noting the wind direction and velocity in my
notes?
Another of my photos from October visit to Pinhão – this one
taken on the hills above Quinta de la Rosa, I think this would be Quinta da Foz
land, looking roughly north by northwest.I don’t recall much of a breeze that day…
Visited Essência do Vinho, a public wine tasting at the
Palácio da Bolsa in Porto this evening.As I plan to visit for several evenings, I started gently, visiting some
familiar wine makers but tasting wines I’d not yet tried.
First up was Cima de Cortes.See below, my entry in December, I first drank one of their wines whilst
in Denmark.Had an interesting
conversation with Hamilton Reis, one of the wine makers, about some of the more
technical aspects of their viticulture and wine making. More about that another time, as I hope to
visit and learn even more.
First I tasted the Chaminé Tinto 2009 – yes, 2009 – it has
just been bottled.This is their entry
level red, and is a wonderful exuberant fruity wine, no complex mineral or
earth or animal notes, just good clean fruit fun.Tasting notes are so incredibly subjective, I
try to avoid the name-that-fruit game, but I have to say I tasted blueberries –
which I don’t think I’ve encountered in a wine before!The other thing that impressed me was that
for such a cheap and cheerful wine it had a great pleasantly persistent full-mouth
finish.To get price bearings, their
on-line shop has this at a price that works out around €6.50 a bottle.
But then Hamilton pulled out another bottle from under the table,
and asked if I liked Touriga Nacional.Yes indeed… for those not familiar, this grape is one of the foundations
of Port wine in the north of Portugal, and it is not commonly grown in the
south (Cima de Cortes is in the Alentejo, so think due east of Lisbon, give or
take).It is known for providing the
backbone to long lived ports – power, concentration, complexity, all that good
stuff.I have never before had a wine made
of 100% Touriga Nacional; this was the 2005.And yes, the wine was powerful, concentrated and complex, also very
subtle which maybe is unexpected given the other qualities.The flavours for me were earth and floral –
not sweet pretty cute floral, but dark earthy warm floral, think violets.It definitely made me crave steak.For price bearings – this one is at the other
end of the spectrum, around €50 a bottle.And yes, for a treat to share with a friend I knew would “get it”, I would spend
that money for this wine.
Side bar note – a couple weeks ago I bought one of their
whites, the Chaminé Branco, intending it primarily for use in some soup.I opened it, had one sip, then got a phone
call, so re-corked it straightaway, and by the time the call was over, I
abandoned the soup making for the day.I
think it was two days later I finally thought, oops… and went to work on the
soup, and the bottle.First off, the
flavours were undiminished from the first taste two days prior; granted I
re-corked within minutes of opening, but I have known other (more expensive and
pretentious) wines to not survive that.Like the tinto, this is an every day wine, cheap and cheerful and fruity
and I remember thinking the flavours were surprisingly tropical – didn’t expect
that.I just looked it up on their
website – it contains Viognier and a little Semillon as well as Antão Vaz and
Verdelho.I paid €4 on special for
this.And, by the way, the majority of
the wine went into a fennel soup, and I drank the last glassful with the soup,
and both soup and food pairing were fabulous – and I think fennel is tough to
match, I’ve had some really stunningly bad pairings!
Hamilton mentioned that Cortes de Cima were the first
vinyard in Portugal with a website and selling their wine by internet – and
it’s an excellent site, good blog and lots of technical notes re vintage
conditions, wine making techniques, etc.http://cortesdecima.com/
Next, I visited Fonseca’s table – I’ve heard or read it said
that this is what the other port shippers drink when they don’t need to be seen drinking
their own brands.I tried the Quinta do
Panescal 1998 – a single quinta port made when Fonseca do not declare a general
vintage – and the Fonseca 10 year old tawny.Both were lovely wines, very elegant. Some people object to ports as being too heavy and cloying – I would suggest trying the Fonsecas before giving up.
Finally, I tasted some more Ramos Pinto wines – I did taste
one port, the Lagrima, which is the sweetest style of port made.It is indeed very sweet, but this was a white
port, so the flavours are more tropical and honey end of the scale – no deep
dark flavours here – which I think makes it all a little easier to bear.I asked about food pairings, instant response
was “ice cream” and then, after some thought, “maybe some fruit…”A bit like PX sherry.
But what I really wanted was to try more of their
non-fortified wines.In my previous
posting I mentioned the Quinta de Ervamoira – nearby is the Quinta dos Bons
Ares, which is similarly quite level, but at a higher altitude and on a granite
soil, not the usual Douro schist.Grapes
from the two are blended to produce the Duas Quintas line of wines (more of
which in a moment).First I tried a Bons
Ares Tinto 2006 – which blends some Cabernet Sauvignon with Touriga Nacional
and Touriga Franca (but all from the one quinta).Handsome cranberry colour with very little
rim fade.Very earthy nose, the palate
very minerally as well as earthy, good acidity but it’s the tannins that come
to the fore.I liked it very much.Note that the Bons Ares wines are only
available for sale in Portugal (you’ll have to come visit me).
Next I tried two of the Collection wines – 2006 and 2007.These wines blend traditional port grapes
(Touriga Nacional and Touriga Franca as well as the unidentified “mixture” so
typical of the older Douro vinyards) from Quinta de Ervamoira and Quinta do Bom Retiro which
is in the Cima Corgo, south of Pinhão.In the 2006, both nose and palate were a balance of earth and fruit
notes for me.In the 2007 the fruit comes
forward, though my note says not lush juicy.Both have vivid tannins.And the
2006 has hands down the best label I’ve ever seen – the serpent twined around a
rather coy and naked Eve, offering her a glass of wine rather than an apple.
Finally, Duas Quintas.I will back up and say I had the basic Duas Quintas Tinto a couple weeks
ago at a friend’s housewarming, and it was a treat.He opened the bottle and we tried it, and
his eyes lit up, I’m sure mine did too, but we agreed the wine was a bit cold,
so he handed the bottle to me and I cuddled it for a good 15 minutes or
more.When we tasted again (and again,
and… ), it was much more expressive.Tonight at Essência I tried the Duas Quintas Reserva 2007, which has not yet been
released.The first impression was the
contrast to the Collection in terms of tannins – here they were much more
integrated – I had to stop and really think, search in my mouth for a minute,
but yes, good tannins, just wonderfully integrated.Again, earth and fruit on the palate, maybe
spices in the mix.An incredibly
elegant, supple wine, all the elements knit together seamlessly.But the fun thing was, I was given a bit of
dark, rather bitter chocolate, and after that, the fruit suddenly leapt to the
fore in my mouth.Fascinating.
As mentioned before, Ramos Pinto have an enchanting website,
do take a look:http://www.ramospinto.pt
Of course I am unable to take pictures in the wine tasting, and
this is not a great photo, but… I know ISO glasses are supposed to concentrate
the aromas so you can get the nose better and all that, but I still think the
Portuguese have the right idea – thinking back to the tastings I’ve had at quintas,
they have always been in generous glasses, which rather says it all for me.
For those concerned by my silence, please don’t be – I am
settling in here in Gaia, it’s just quiet, practicing my Portuguese and not drinking much at all, and then not worth writing
about.
With one fabulous exception which prompts this entry:last night I visited Vinilogia again, and had
a glass of heaven on earth, I think – Ramos Pinto’s 10 year old Tawny Quinta de
Ervamoira.
You may recall (or re-read below if you don’t!) that on my
first visit to Vinilogia I wanted to try tawnies from each region of the Douro
– Baixo, Cima and Superiore, but the third I had that day was sort of
borderline Cima and Superiore.Subsequently Godfrey Spence (author of The Port Companion and free
lance wine educator and writer) suggested this as one to try from the heart of the Douro
Superiore.I never did get around to it,
as I loathe drinking alone, and haven’t had company (hint hint anyone who wants
to visit!).
Yesterday I called a friend from the school where I’ve had
my Portuguese lessons, and dragged him to Vinilogia to try this port with me.Oh bliss.Beautiful tawny garnetty colour (not ideal lighting in there for
appraising colour, but… ), very smooth palate, very rich concentrated deep dark
marmelade and apricot, maybe a whiff of spice?And that wonderful quality which wood aging gives which just knits all
the flavours together without clobbering you over the head with “OAK!!!” as can
happen in younger dry wines.And the bartender
gave us generous measures, bless…
After that, my friend voted we go to the IVDP and carry on
tasting there.They always keep a half
dozen bottles of port going, one of each type (white, ruby, reservas, tawnies
of various ages, LBV, etc.), but every week a different variety and selection
of producers.We opted for the tasting
of four:a dry white, an LBV, and 10 and
20 year old tawnies.
I will be honest – I had not had much food that day, and
that little was at 8:00 am; by late afternoon it only took that full glass of
Quinta de Ervamoira to make me a bit dim and vague.I genuinely cannot recall much about these
four wines except this:the dry white
tasted like potato crisps (and I actually do remember the producer, but they
will remain nameless), the LBV was Graham’s I think, post millenium and
pleasant, and the two tawnies were nice but not a patch on the Quinta de
Ervamoira for pleasure or complexity, not even the 20 year old.
Quinta de Ervamoira has an interesting history and is quite
unique:following on from considerable
research into sites, production methods and grapes, Ramos Pinto bought this
site in the 70’s, in the Douro Superior near Foz Côa, and planted it vertically
and mostly in single variety vinyards – both decisions were extraordinary and controversial
in the Douro at that time, where vinyards were traditionally planted in terraces running horizontally
along the contours of the hills with a blend of grape varieties planted
together.After considerable investment in
land, research and planting, the entire property was threatened by submersion
with the building of a new dam on the Douro.Miraculously, Paleolithic rock paintings were discovered nearby, and
ultimately the dam project was cancelled to preserve the archeological site,
and with it, Quinta de Ervamoira.The
quinta has established an archeological musuem on site.
The company was founded in 1880 by Adriano Ramos Pinto who
was first an artist, and the company continues the legacy of supporting the
arts, using rather charming and risqué Belle Epoque images
in their advertising and on some of their wine labels – my favourite being
their Collection 2006 (a dry red wine), which features the serpent winding around
a naked Eve and proferring her a glass of wine in lieu of an apple.They also have some of the most marvelously poetic
and evocative but spot on tasting notes
I’ve ever read.
No good recent or strictly relevant photos – really must go
up river again soon – so here’s one from October.The train station at Pinhão has a series of panels
of azulejos illustrating the harvest, this one showing cestos típicos – cestos
being Portugese for pannier, the basket carried on the back.
For those kind enough to express concern, yes, I am alive
and well and settling into Porto, or more accurately, Gaia, where I now have a
flat.But the throes of my language
studies, job hunting and general settling-in would notmake for fascinating reading, I imagine.
So my very flimsy excuse for writing now is a bottle of wine
which has kept me company for three of the past four or five nights (I don’t
drink much, what can I say?).Last May I
visited Quinta do Casal Branco in the Ribatejo, just south of Almeirim, and
wrote about it for the blog (you can find it again in the Portugal folder on
left margin).They make quite a broad
range of wines, I tasted only about a half dozen back in May.Earlier this week I needed some wine for
cooking – and the cook decided she needed some too – and bought a bottle of
their 2008 Quinta do Casal Branco, vinho regional Ribatejano Vinho Branco,
which is a pure Fernão Pires.It did
well in a reduction with a little white balsamic vinegar for a sautéed chicken
breast, brussel sprouts and endive dish.Also did well washing down same – how many wines can withstand brussel sprouts,
really?Very crisp semi-fruit
semi-floral palate, and refreshing acidity.Can’t comment reliably on the colour as I am drinking from a pottery
beaker I normally use for tea-drinking, not a wine glass (still awaiting word
when, if ever, my things will arrive from England, thankfully I have had this
beaker with me on all my travels since June).
Tonight I finished the last two glasses left in the bottle –
the first glass washed down a pile of steamed veg over baked potato, cutting
nicely through all the butter and parmesan, shame on me, and the second glass
has gone even more nicely with a volume of Fernando Pessoa.Admittedly in English – though I will start
trying to read some of it in Portuguese, will treat myself to a book next week.Food and wine are cheap here, so more money
for books.
Slightly hokey still life – the wine, the book, the british
pottery beaker, and a plate and bowl of Portuguese hand made pottery from Viana
do Castelo, north of Porto.There is a
strong tradition of pottery in this country, and several very distinct regional
styles.I shall probably collect a bit
of each over time, but this was the most appealing to me for every day staring-up-at-me-from-under-my-food
table ware.And it was the most nearly
local, which I felt was appropriate.
Earlier in the week I wanted to buy a bottle of wine by way
of thank you to someone who helped me with getting my tax number and introduced
me to an estate agent here.I stumbled
into what I mistook for a wine shop in Ribeira, and found instead the most
wonderful little pub which offers only ports – over 200 available by the glass,
and all strictly single quinta independent producer ports, none of the big
shippers’ wines.I needed to be
responsible that day, but today I had no obligations, so I returned.
I had glanced briefly at their menu, for lack of a better
word, which described a number of tastings that could be arranged – a glass of
each type of port, for example (white, tawny, ruby) or vertical tastings of
vintages and colheitas, and so on.When
I returned, I asked to try three ports, of the same style, but from each of the
major regions:Baixa Corgo, Cima Corgo,
and Douro Superior.I was curious if I
could taste the differences in climate and terrain.
In a way, I didn’t taste what I wanted or expected to, but I
certainly enjoyed the wines, they were wonderful.My mistake was twofold:first, I chose ten year old tawnies, which by
nature are blends, so though all the wines blended in would be of the terroir,
I imagine the aging would mask or change some qualities that might stand out in
a single vintage wine.Second, not a
mistake, but just a fact of life – there isn’t a quinta really deep in the
Douro Superior – the nearest or most different from typical Cima Corgo was a
quinta on the Rio Torto, which runs south from Pinhão.So, I may have to repeat this all with rubies
to try out my idea of tasting climate and terrain (shame!).
Meanwhile, the wines I tasted were wonderful, and beautifully
presented.The bartender
gave a lot of thought to selecting the wines for me, offering two choices for
my not-quite-Douro-Superior, and I chose the organic one.He then set out three glasses, with a glass
of water to the right, and asked if I wanted almonds (warning me they were
salted) or chocolates – I chose chocolates, and he set a small dish of bitter
dark chocolates on the left.As he
poured each wine, he set the bottle on the table behind the glass, and left it
there so I could consult it as needed.
The line up was as follows, all ten year old tawnies:
Quinta das Lamelas, bottled 2009, 19.5%.This one is from near Lamego, which is about
15 km south of Regua.Beautiful warm
golden tawny colour, slightly paler mid gold rim.The nose was heavenly, it simply SMELLED
tawny, like a warm summer day, just too intense and complex to parse out
individual scents.It was a pure fruit
scent, I definitely did not spot the sort of secondary or tertiary scents like
wood, smoke or leather.On the palate, I
was more aware of sensations than flavours – it simply expanded in your mouth,
had a wonderful backdraft, and wonderful acidity and length.When you are learning to taste wine, you are
taught that a wine has good acidity when it makes your mouth water – if you
open your mouth slightly and breath in through your mouth, the insides of your
cheeks should salivate – that’s acidity.This was a truly mouthwatering wine – wonderful acidity.The only tasting note per se I have is very
dark honey.I will also note that after
two hours spent pondering and tasting all three wines in turn, I felt I could
only finish up one glass and still walk home safely after dark – this is the
one I chose to finish.
Quinta de Val da Figueira, bottled 2008, 20%. This one is from Pinhão, it’s actually the
next quinta down river from Quinta de la Rosa, which I visited in October.Colour was deeper, darker, more opaque than
the previous – it reminded me of a beautiful newly laid and varnished
cherrywood floor I had once seen – so a deep red-tawny colour – with a quite
narrow clear strawberry rim.Nose was
warm orchard and stone fruit, dark honey and a whiff of smokiness.Palate – again fabulous acidity and length.I used to buy apricots that were dried
without preservatives and so were much darker and gooier and chewier and far
more flavourful than the “preservatived” ones that were still pale orangey and
had a decidedly dry texture – this wine was definitely reminiscent of the
former.Of the three wines, this one
held up against the bitter dark chocolate best – the other two seemed to
lighten up when contrasted with the chocolate, this one was in no way
diminished by contrast with the chocolate.Later, on repeat tasting, a slight cedar-y aroma came up on the nose,
which didn’t entirely please me (but that could just be bad memories of
cleaning out the gerbil cage as a child).
Casal dos Jordões, bottled 2009, 20%, this is the one from
down the Rio Torto valley, which runs southeast from near Pinhão.Colour similar to prior, deep opaque
red-tawny, wider strawberry rim.Nose
was initially the most delicate, had the most finesse of the three, later, my
last whiff of the evening, it definitely rose out of the glass to meet me –
which was a joy!Palate was most complex
and concentrated, if the others brought to mind some fruits, this brought to
mind the whole fruitcake – intense, melded fruit and spice flavours.Good acidity, but not as overt as the other
two, ditto the finish.Overall, this one
had more going on for flavour, but less going on for sensation in the
mouth.
When I went back for a nose of all three in quick
succession, there was a distinct crescendo of density and complexity.
All told, a really enjoyable two hours of wine.As it was late afternoon and no other
customers at the time, the bartender and I were talking about the wines and wine
making.One factoid that stands out in
memory is that there are over 30,000 growers in the region, most of whom supply
the big port shippers – and only 37 independent single quinta producers.Vino Logia (this pub) focuses on the ports
from these 37 producers, both by the glass in the bar, and for sale by the
bottle (so I wasn’t entirely off, it is a wine shop too…).Their website is in French and Portuguese, at
http://www.lamaisondesporto.com/and the pub is on the corner of the Rua do São
João and Rua do Infante Dom Henrique, just above the Praça da Ribeira, on the Oporto
waterfront.
Friday, 27 November, 2009
For a completely different experience, Friday morning I
visited the IVDP – Instituto do Vinho do Douro e Porto.This is the governing body for the port trade
and recently merged with another entity responsible for protecting and
promoting the broader concerns of the Douro wine DOC.
Every wine that wishes to carry DOC status must be tested
and approved by the IVDP – their stamp of approval is that white label secured
under the seal of the cork with a specific number that can be traced back, if
there are any concerns.Producers must
submit samples of all their wines for testing shortly before bottling, and the
IVDP also conducts random sampling, both at the producers’ and by buying
bottles off the shelves from shops.All
testing is conducted blind.
The first sort of testing consists of a great many terribly
high tech scientific chemical analyses for sugar and alcohol content, levels of
various chemicals, testing for contaminants or micro-organisms, etc. and you
peer through a window at a terribly modern laboratory with all kinds of
machines and test tubes and white coated scientists.
Then you go round the corner and you see testing done by
good old fashioned tasting – although these scientists also are white coated,
and the samples are still blind, what you see through the window is a man
seated in a rather 90’s office cubicle, with a computer screen before him, a
patch of natural white light in which to appraise colour, and a line up of 10
glasses of wine, each numbered.Their
job is to confirm the good old fashioned way that the wine is, or tastes like,
what it purports to be – e.g. a ten year old tawny, and that it does not taste
“off” or faulty even if all the chemical analyses show it shouldn’t.Interestingly, in any given lineup, ten
percent of the samples will be wines previously tested by that taster – a
master taster reviews their findings for consistency, as a quality assurance
review.
After this very brief tour you are offered a tasting of one
wine from a selection of five or six possibilities, all from the big
shippers.Only, I got lucky and got a
double dip – since my first choice had only a thimbleful left in the bottle, my
guide allowed me to taste a second one, and I got a proper serving with which
to sit and watch a video tour of the Douro and some regional restaurants.It felt very decadent to be sitting there
drinking port at 11:30 in the morning…
The first small sample was Fonseca Bin 27 Finest Reserve
Ruby.From my very tiny sample it was a
deep dark opaque garnet colour, with some precipitation of course from the end
of the bottle.Flavour was the
apotheosis of strawberry jam, pure and concentrated – and that was a very good
thing.It’s possible an entire glass
could become cloying – but I would be very willing to try it and see!I could think of a recipe for a chocolate
cake that might go well with this, too…
My second proper serving was Sandeman’s Imperial Reserve
Tawny.This came straight out of the
fridge (first serving of the morning) and the nose was pretty whiffy – it
seemed to be all secondary flavours of smoke and wood shavings, and no
fruit.Later, having warmed it a bit in
my hands, more fruit came up both on nose and palate.It was pleasant, but it probably suffered
from the contrast, being consumed less than 24 hours after those three ten year
old single quinta tawnies at Vino Logia.On the other hand, I did finish the glass whilst watching the food and
travel videos, so it wasn’t bad stuff at all.
The website for the IVDP is in Portuguese, English, French, and Spanish, and there is quite a lot of information on there about the wines and
the region generally, as well as the work and role of the IVDP.http://www.ivdp.pt
My last night in Denmark we toasted my next move by drinking
a bottle of Portuguese wine – made by a Danish wine maker based in the
Alentejo.This was another terrific
suggestion from Thomas at Vinoteket – Cortes de Cima 2006 Vinho Tinto, Vinho
Regional Alentejo.This was a blend of
Syrah, Aragonez (better known as Tempranillo in Spain) and Touriga Nacional (a classic
Port grape – I’ve always loved Richard Mayson’s pithy description of it as
“deep, dense and focused with cast-iron backbone”).This wine is aged two years, half that time
in oak.Red and black fruit, some spice
notes, nutmeg came to mind, and tannins that were not so chunky or chewy as in
the wines I usually favour – I think the label description used the word
velvety, I would go with that – and a very satisfying finish.The oak was not assertive, I think it just
worked to meld the flavours a bit, no overt vanilla or any of that nonsense
(now you know how I feel about oaky wines!).Wonderful wine, we had a flank steak that night, it was a great
combination.This was 99 dkr, which is
about £12.
The domaine has an incredibly rich and well-designed
website, so I’m not even going to try to recapitulate – take a look, it’s interesting.Thomas recommended a visit to the domaine, he
enjoyed it very much himself.Personally
I’m fascinated by the concept of having a traditional Danish Christmas lunch in
the heart of the Alentejo.http://cortesdecima.com/
Arrived Portugal the evening of the 19th, spent a
couple days in Lisbon, then came up to Oporto Sunday.
Have been busy trying to settle sheer logistics (getting a
tax number, a bank account, an english-speaking estate agent and viewing some
flats…), but of course first thing I had to walk out the Dom Luis I bridge, and
admire the view… rather different from last July’s image.
Besides the autumnal mist, notice above and to the left of the
Croft sign that massive five story edifice being constructed into and on the
crest of the hill.That will be the
Fladgate Partnership’s Yeatman Hotel and Spa, due to open in the coming
year.Jamie Goode has written about it
recently on his Wine Anorak site, and has some more detailed pictures and
information:http://www.wineanorak.com/douro/yeatman.htm
The weekly wine tasting dinners, sponsored by a range of
wine firms not just those in the Fladgate Partnership, sound wonderful, as well
as the idea of a wine-related spa.Château Smith Haut Lafitte were, I think, the first to go into this,
and certainly their Caudalie line of skin care products are excellent.Anyone who has been justifying their wine
drinking by pointing to the high levels of anti-oxidants in wine will be pleased
to know they do as much good topically applied as imbibed (so it’s not a total
loss if you spill some on yourself!).Personally, I’d rather be treading the grapes to get my dose, and I hope
my next harvest will be up in the Douro, otherwise I may have to settle for a
treatment at the spa when it opens.
So much to look forward to, now I am settling here.
Shortly after arriving in Denmark I joined my friends at a
wine tasting sponsored by the American Club in Copenhagen.Naturally it featured American wines (and
some Chilean), which I refuse to discuss in detail, generally far too high
alcohol scorching my mouth and burning off whatever undistinguished flavours
the liquids may have possessed.But in
the course of conversation I learned that there are in fact wines made in
Denmark.
So, I visited Vinoteket, the wine shop here in Gentofte, and
asked.As one man was talking to me
about Danish wines, his colleague overheard us and a moment later set down a
bottle on the counter – apparently it was left over from a tasting the previous
night. We tried a glass then and there
(I do like this shop!), and it was very pleasant, not an aggressive wine, very
soft, round. The producer is
Skaersøgaard, who were the first Danish wine makers authorised once the EU
permitted Denmark to produce wine in 2000.Their wines have won many awards – including their sparkling (we can’t
call it champagne) wine which actually won a Silver Medal at the Effervescents
du Monde competition in Dijon in 2008.
I asked him to order some of the white wine for me – if
possible the one we tasted, or another one he suggested – and he warned me
quantities are minute and he may or may not be able to source it.In the event, they ordered a case, received
six bottles only, and I bought two, at 149 DKR, which is about £18 each.(NB – their sparkling wine goes for 395 DKR,
or about £50).The description from the
Skaersøgaard website ( http://dansk-vin.dk/index.php?cat=1&p=15&pos=5
)is as follows:
Orion Classic 2008
Regional Hvidvin fra Jylland
Let sommervin lavet af druen Orion. Behagelig næse af hyld,
citrus med fyldig indfriende smag. *****5 af 5 stjerner, Vinavisen 2009.
Commended, International Wine Challenge, London 2009
Tør. 11% vol 0,75 l
Vejl. udsalgspris: 145 kr.
I think the wine is made purely from the Orion grape – which
is a german cross of Optima (itself a cross derived from Riesling, Silvaner and
Muller-Thurgau) and Villard Blanc (no longer allowed by AOC regulation, it used
to be planted in Bordeaux and Languedoc-Roussillon).The Orion is bred for early maturity (which is true of both
the grapes in the vinyard and the wines in the bottle) and disease
resistance.I noticed it is also used a
bit in English wines.
As best I can figure from on-line dictionaries, their
tasting notes are elderflower (hyld) and citrus, and fullbodied (fyldig).I would agree with all of that.Pam made another lovely salmon dinner, this
time with a sauce of chopped and reduced tomatoes and cream, and the wine was a
nice companion.
So, if you have a chance… do try it, it was lovely.
Am settled in Denmark for a few weeks visiting my oldest
dearest friend since childhood, Pam, and her husband Chris.Two kids are at university, but one is still
at home together with the two dogs.
Denmark is cold, damp, and very dark… you can actually feel
how much shorter each day is than the prior – something like 15 minutes of
light is lost every day.Shiver.Most days are overcast and at least
occasionally drizzly, and the landscape is very autumnal – haven’t been able to
take any good photos – or rather, I have, but they all look a bit bleak, even
when there is good sunlight.And the
photos the day it snow flurried are really discouraging – though sadly the snow
didn’t show up in the photo, so no point posting those either!
Still, I like the landscape, and would like to see it in
summer.My friends’ house is adjacent to
a public park, a natural small lake and wetlands area surrounded by woods.There are dozens if not hundreds of waterfowl
and seagulls (the seagulls make me a little homesick for Oporto, though the
Danish ones aren’t sitting on my windowsill to screech, like the Portuguese gulls
did!).Also quite a few blue heron – saw
one roosting in a tree, which was a shock!
Pam and Chris have to do quite a lot of entertaining in
conjunction with Chris’s work, so shortly after I arrived I was helping Pam
prepare for a dinner party for eight.Pam is a brilliant cook, and generally one of the most hospitable people
I know, she creates, or rather simply lives every day, in a wonderful ambience.Besides knowing Pam’s home where she grew up,
and the family summer home in New Hampshire, her dorm room and post-university
flat, I’ve seen the homes she has created for her own family in England, Italy,
Switzerland, Morocco, Portugal and now Denmark (Bulgaria is the only one I
missed in the past 13 years or so), and the minute I walk in it is home to me,
too – I recognise so much of the furniture, books and tchatchkas accumulated
over the course of a lifetime, half of which has been spent travelling – it’s
an incredible visual history, and a wonderful familiar environment for family
and friends, but also fascinating and welcoming for the near-strangers who are
entertained each month in the course of business.
This dinner party was, I think, typical – guests were
punctual, warmly welcomed by host and dogs (one gentle and curious if
intimidatingly massive, the other small, noisy and cheerful [oops – that’s
describing each of the two dogs, not meant to be describing Christopher in
there !!]).Guests were immediately set at
their ease with drinks and nibbles to hand, any necessary introductions
smoothly made and conversation spontaneous, warm and easy – much of which I
think is contributable to the ambience and setting.If the house were rigidly formal or
impersonal or decorated more for show than family life, then it would be much
harder for people to relax and open up so quickly.We had just enough time to get to know one
another a bit over drinks in the living room before transitioning to the dinner
table.
Food and wine:bald
list to start…
With drinks in the living room:nuts and olives, spiced shrimp, parmesan
garlic crackers and a wonderful brie baked with praline marmelade.Personally I could have made a meal of just
the brie, and probably will do for myself one cold and dreary day, with a good
book and some wine.The guests were
offered drinks if they wished, or red or whitewine – and I’ll talk about the wines in a minute.
First course was a tomato, shallot and goat’s cheese tart
with a green salad and cranberry dressing, main course was salmon with a sauce
of apples and cream served with asparagus and wild rice, and the pud was a
marsala pot de crème with an almond cookie and mixed berries served alongside
(currants, raspberries and blueberries), and marsala for those who wished to
drink the wine with the pud.After
dinner coffee and tea was served in the living room with chocolates.
Pam devises her own menus and does nearly all the cooking
herself from scratch – e.g. she made her own spiced shrimp and parmesan garlic
crackers, the marmelade on top of the brie was homemade from the citrus trees
around their house in Lisbon last year – or maybe it dates from the citrus
grove surrounding their Moroccan home a few years previously, can’t be
sure.I do remember in Morocco a friend
of theirs was an italian woman who harvested the lemons from their garden to
make limoncello, then gave them a bottle, which was luscious.
The only food offered that she hadn’t prepared herself were
the little chocolate dipped almond biscuits that accompanied the pot de crème
(and they came fresh from the bakery in the village).Preparations can be a bit fraught at times,
for instance she brought home what she thought was a piece of fresh horseradish
to grate and use in the sauce over the salmon.After grating and tasting a bit, we concluded it wasn’t really
horseradish (only been here two months – command of Danish does not yet extend
to the word for horseradish!), so she rummaged through cupboards and freezer
and improvised – I think she said there was ginger in there, I’m not sure what
the final mixture was, but the dish turned out very well and was served forth
graciously – no inkling at the table of kitchen dramas behind the scenes.Later she told the story on herself and
brought out the packet of mystery veg to ask the Dane who was present what
it was – he confirmed it was not horseradish, though I don’t think we ever
found an english word to translate whatever it was.
The wines… before dinner, besides spirits or mixed drinks
there were two wines available – a Louis Jadot Beaujolais Villages Combe aux
Jacques 2007 which was a very pleasant supple fruity wine, and a Chilean
Chardonnay Reserva, Leyda Valley. Viña Leyda.The
chardonnay was a nice clean wine – no fermentation in oak, and no malo-lactic
fermentation permitted either, so it’s very fresh, citrussy without being too
tart – there’s a touch of honey in there to keep it from being too sharp or
aggressive.Both of these wines sell for
about 50 dkr, which works out to around USD $10 or around GBP £6.50 or so –
both good candidates for “house wine” for all the entertaining my friends do,
as well as for their own routine drinking and cooking consumption.
To get a little perspective – my wine education to date has
mostly been at the high end of the old world:a series of tutored tastings of the top burgundies in an intensive one
village at a time format, italian feasts designed to showcase the barolos,
barbarescos, valpolicellas and amarones of top makers, the only Spanish wine I
know is Vega Sicilia (a producer dinner one night and a tutored tasting of
their full range across several vintages another time), almost the only
rieslings and gewurtztraminers I can recall by both name and taste are Zind
Humbrecht (again from a producer dinner, as well as other random tastings), my
real introduction to claret occurred when I tasted all seven of the legendary first
growth clarets of a single vintage side by side in one night… you get the
drift!Lucky me, but it means my palate
memory and benchmarks are well beyond my means, so tasting and learning about
the more modest end of the market is a bit of a revelation… If I sound wide
eyed and astonished that I can really enjoy a wine at this price level, well… I
still am!Frankly, I hope I never lose
my sense of pleasure at finding a good wine at any price.
With dinner we had a lovely Alsatian riesling (so now I have
a second one for my palate memory list), Domaines Schlumberger Riesling Les
Princes Abbés 2006, which was quite dry – I’ve forgotten the numbers quoted to
me, but it had half or less of the residual sugars of other rieslings I looked
at.The dryness and citrus quality of
the wine was a good foil to the rich sauce of sautéed apples and cream over
excellent salmon.(Actually, I just
googled the wine and found the domaine’s own website, and a really interesting
tasting note – very technical – take a look:http://www.domaines-schlumberger.com/riesling-les-princes-abbes-2006,en-45023.html
)
Pam is very lucky – and I have been too! – that she has an
excellent wine shop in the village, Vinoteket.I have had occasion to work with all three of the sommeliers there to
pick wines for Pam’s entertaining, and they have all been patient,
knowledgeable and just plain fun to talk with.And they have all had a bottle handy for a tasting every
time I’ve visited.Take a look at their
website – even if it is in Danish and you can’t actually read most of it, the
wines are universally comprehensible and they have a good and interesting range:http://www.vinoteket.dk
There is another dinner party tomorrow night, and we’ve
chosen a very promising looking wine for that, also the gentlemen at Vinoteket
have ordered some Danish wine for us to try, should arrive later in the week,
so look for a report on that soon, too.
I do love travelling, and I’ve been so lucky on that score
the past year or two, and boy I do love good food and wine… all of which would
be not nearly so much fun without the wonderful people, old friends and new,
every stop of the way.Despite some
troubles the past year or more, I have been incredibly fortunate on this side
of things.
Always try to conclude a posting with some evocative image…
so after all, one landscape photo taken out in the woodlands / marshlands near
by, very autumnal…
Very much a
drives-you-back-to-the-fireside-with-a-glass-of-red-wine kind of image.
All my things are packed and in storage, the house is up for
rent, and Thursday the 22nd I said farewell to England and headed to
Belgium.In Bruges I met up with Paul,
one of the trio of Belgians who had been staying in the gite at Domaine Anne
Gros during the harvest, and Sharon, an australian woman in the wine trade who also
stayed at the gite, whom I met only on the last day.
It being about 16:00, clearly a glass of wine was in order,
and we found the tiny but charming Est Wijnbar (www.wijnbarest.be), climbed the
near vertical stairway to the first floor and settled to review the wine
list.Whilst Paul was rounding up three
copies of the full list, I glanced at the short list of current recommendations
posted on every table, and was very pleased to see Casal Branco’s rosé on their
top pick list.(See my entry in May
about the visit to the estate in the Ribatejo, north of Lisbon.)
In the event, we drank a Pfalz Riesling 1996 [details to
follow] which was wonderful – a very lemon curd quality to me – very tangy and
fresh and crisp, but with that slightly buttery unctiousness on the palate –
the malo lactic clearly worked!
From there we wandered on through the twilit town, Paul
giving us a bit of a scenic tour – and Bruges is astonishingly scenic, every
inch of it charming and lovely.We
wandered over bridges and canals, through parks, past churches, down cobbled
streets past countless chocolate shops and finally to the B&B where they
were staying – very charming (my hotel we will ignore – central and clean, but an
utterly charmless business hotel, teddy bear on the pillow notwithstanding,
ugh!).Sharon ran upstairs to fetch a
bottle she had brought from Burgundy, and Paul borrowed glasses from the
landlady (he had a corkscrew on him, wise man).We backtracked to a park with some stone tables and benches and laid out
our spread – a baguette purchased in Bruges, two varieties of goat’s cheese I
had bought in Portugal and carried home to England then brought on with me to
Bruges, and Sharon’s bottle of Nuits St. Georges, Les Demodes, Domaine Jean
Pierre Bony 2007 – she had stayed at the domaine before coming to Anne Gros’
and knew the wine maker well.
This particular vinyard, Les Demodes, is at the top of the
hill, last one before the woods, and is the last Nuits St. Georges vinyard up
there before you cross the line north into Vosne Romanée, just above Aux
Malconsorts.The wine was excellent, maybe
not possessed of the latent power to give it the long and complex life you
would expect of a premier cru, but coming out of the villages part of the
vinyard (the strip closest to the woods) it had wonderful balance and flavours,
and did fine by me – warming me nicely, sitting there on a stone bench in a
chilly park after dark in Bruges in October.
Food and wine finished we returned the glasses to the
landlady, and Sharon turned in, but Paul and I carried on for dinner.We backtracked to a wine bar and restaurant
we had passed earlier – through the windows I had seen an open fire on a raised
hearth that I found irresistable.I
think my body is in shock and denial, going from 30° and blazing sun on the
beach or in the mountains of Portugal to cold and damp and dark and about 9° in
Belgium in less than ten days.
After thawing out my hands in front of the fire, to the
amusement of the other diners, Paul and I settled down to serious
considerations.I entrusted the wine
choice to him, as his knowledge of domaines and makers, particularly in
Burgundy, is encyclopedic.We opted to
share an entrecôte, his share blue, mine à point, and he ordered a Marsannay
2002, Domaine Phillipe Charlopin-Parizot.This wine is made from vines in the Montchenvoy climat, which is
considered one of the finest lieux-dits of Marsannay.And it tasted it, stunning, I would never
have imagined it came from Marsannay, would have guessed Nuits St. Georges.The steak was accompanied by jacket potatoes,
wrapped in foil and roasted in the open fire.Noting that Paul had finished his, the host kindly offered seconds which
were gratefully received and enjoyed.I’ve never known a restaurant offer seconds!
Thoroughly enjoyed wine, food and company all afternoon and evening
long, and Paul and I were the last to leave this little restaurant.If you are in Bruges, find it – not only for
the food and wine, but for the excuse to wander and enjoy the town, away from
the main market place and all:Heer
Halewyn, Walplein 10.
And then I slept off all of that, and started again on
Friday… met up with Sharon and Paul in the morning, had a good wander along the
Coupure canal, picking out dream properties for Paul to buy in Bruges, and then
refreshed ourselves at a café where we could sit beside the canal basking in
the sun, with chardonnay (Sharon), beer (Paul), and hot chocolate (me… what can
I say, I don’t have a strong head for alcohol to begin with, and after five
days of packing and cleaning, and near total food and sleep deprivation, I had
to pace myself!).The waiter was visibly
shocked by my order, but managed to find some hot cocoa.
We then met up with Christiaan and Martine, the couple who
also stayed at Anne Gros’ gite in September, and had done some harvesting at
Domaine Lucie et August Lignier in Morey St. Denis.We stopped at a tiny and very old (the
oldest?) pub in Bruges for a glass of beer.I tried it, but it was too bitter for me.After that, we went on to lunch at Refter,
Molenmeers 2 ( http://bistrorefter.com ).
Sharon and Paul took control of the wine list, Martine and
Christiaan explained the menu to Sharon and me, and I just thoroughly enjoyed
every minute and mouthful.I started
with some croquettes made with tiny shrimp in a creamy sauce, and then had a
perfect cod filet on a bed of snow peas, with whipped potatoes on the side –
both dishes which I was told were very typically belgian.Paul started with the largest oysters I think
I have ever seen.
Second wine was from the Loire, Reuilly Clos des Messieurs
2007 Domaine Lafond, which was generally agreed to be the star of the three
choices.So much so I don’t seem to have
made any notes about the third wine, actually, and I can’t even recall what
region it came from.It was white…
From there, we staggered across the street to a lovely hotel
and restaurant and out onto their terrace alongside the canal for coffee and
sunshine.Five happy well fed wine
lovers:Christiaan, Sharon and Paul
standing, Martine and Cynthia seated.
Martine and Christiaan had to return home, to the south of
Belgium, to rescue children from school or something, I admit I went back to my
hotel to sleep off this meal, and I think Sharon and Paul went on to another
pub or wine bar.
At 20:00 Sharon and Paul and I re-convened for another
fabulous meal at Den Dyver, Dijver 5 ( http://www.dijver.be ).This restaurant is known especially for making
and pairing all its foods with regional Belgian beers – luckily for me, they
also will pair each course with a wine, as I really cannot bear beer (I’m sorry
Paul!I tried!).
The most fascinating taste sensation of the evening for me
was the aperitif – imagine a kir royale, but instead of cassis they used a
liqueur made from hops, called Fleur de Bière.Being from Kent, which was always the heart of the hops growing, drying
and marketing in England, I couldn’t resist trying it. The liqueur did not noticeably
change the colour of the champagne – and I was hard put to it to describe the
flavour.Sharon and Paul tried it and
both instantly said quinine.I’ve never
had a G&T so I would never have spotted that.This aperitif was lovely, I recommend you try
it if you get the chance.I was a little
afraid the liqueur might have that bitterness that puts me off beer, but it
does not.We were told the liqueur is only available commercially, within
the restaurant trade, but the maitre d’ kindly gave us the information to try
to source it, as Paul has many contacts in the trade.With any luck, some day you may be able to
try it chez moi.
There followed another fabulous meal.I did things a little backwards, and started
with a game paté which was excellent and also rather beautifully presented –
one large finger of paté was atop a puddle of fig conserve and in turn topped
with a finger of wholemeal nut bread, and set at an angle to that was another
finger of bread topped with the paté.This was served with a Las Niñas Syrah, a chilean wine from the
Colchugua Valley, I’m afraid I didn’t catch the vintage.Very supple, black and dark red fruit,
slightly compotey, and muted spice notes, it almost felt like a merlot.For me it was too soft to really work with
the paté, I would have liked something more tannic and assertive, but it was a
pleasant wine, and I did enjoy it.I
looked up the wine on the internet, and the domaine is an interesting one, have
a look:http://www.vinalasninas.cl/
The next course was fish, a perfectly cooked very tender bit
of brill, some roasted whole new potatoes, and some excellent fennel and snow
peas.Alongside the food was a stripe of
a tomato coulis which was made with a belgian beer, and gave it a flavour like
the rouille used in bouillabaise – that very savory orangey brown sauce of
garlic, saffron, olive oil and cayenne.Really lovely.The wine was
Verdicchio di Matelica La Monacesca, from Fattoria la Monacesca in the Marche,
again I missed the vintage.Very good
with the fish, and Sharon enjoyed it as her aperitif, and I think Paul enjoyed
it when we let him have a sip of ours…
We were too full to have a third course, just sat there
finishing all the various glasses of wine and beer on our table… and then
staggered home to our respective lodgings.
Many thanks to all of you who made my stay in Bruges so
wonderful, but especially to Paul, for being such a marvellous guide to all
things belgian, wine and food related, and for letting me nick his photos to
use in this blog entry!
Closing image – Bruges by night, standing on a bridge over
canal.
Another gloriously sunny day, warm but not quite as hot as
yesterday, a good breeze helped to keep things a little more comfortable than
yesterday.
Had the tour of the wine making process at Quinta de la Rosa,
beginning at the stone lagares
(wading pools) where the grapes are trodden (after sorting and de-stalking).These are also fitted with a mechanism for
doing the remontage – imagine a steel bar across the width of the lagares on tracks so it can be drawn and
positioned over either of three lagares.The bar is rigged to draw up the wine into
the bar and spray it back down over the cap, forcing the cap back down a bit to
extract more colour and tannins.After
the wine has fermented partially (leaving a lot of natural sugars), the aguardente (a grape brandy of 70%
alcohol) is blended with the must in the lagar to arrest the fermentation –
hence the combination of high sugar content but also high alcohol levels of
ports.Then the whole lot is tranferred to
stainless steel tanks for final pressing, and then the wine is run off into a
variety of oak barrels (small like the burgundians), pipes (barrels of
typically 550 litres, used for tawnies and potential vintage ports) and balseiros (immense standing barrels to hold
40,000 to 100,000 litres – used for rubies, typically) in the armazem (cave or store room) downstairs.
Two things about Quinta de la Rosa – one is, as an
independent quinta, they age all their ports in the Douro, at the quinta – no
tankers trucking it all down to Gaia in the spring after harvest like Taylor’s
et al.Thinking about our access to the lagares and then going down a ladder
into the armazem, it must be built
into the hill on three sides, if not totally underground – so cooler conditions
than many who age wines in the Douro above ground.Second, perched in between the immense pipes
were a half dozen smaller casks.You may
have bought a case of name brand port to put down for your child or godchild the
year it’s born – the Berqvists MAKE a designated lot of port with the name and
birth year of the grandchild painted in beautiful calligraphy on the cask end,
which will rest in the armazem till
time to bottle.How wonderful.
Another type of container for aging the port are balões – there were none at Quinta de la
Rosa but I spotted a nice pair as I was walking through Pinhão:
These concrete tanks are also known as mamas, ginas or lollabrigidas.I’m sure you can see why… who said the
Portuguese don’t have a sense of humour?
After the tour of the wine making process, I had another
wander round some vinyards – this time the ones nearest the house, Vale Grande,
for starters.The pruning and training
of the vines is exquisite:
At first glance it looks as if one vine is trained all along
the lower wire.In fact, from each vine
trunk one cane is bent to the right and tied down along the lower wire – and
the cane is cut just abutting the next vine.From these canes, pairs of shoots are trained up between the upper wires
in overlapping V formations.
Here is a more detailed shot:
Hopefully you can see what I am talking about.It really is meticulously done, and beautiful
to behold.
And, of course… my trip would not be complete without…
The cutest little tractors you ever did see.I mean tiny – that one with the little red
wagon behind it would fit inside the cab of a french tractor.These things are necessarily miniature here,
as they are designed to work in between rows of vines, and keep a low centre of
gravity, which is much safer on these steep hills than the very high
vine-straddling french models.The
tractors are used for ploughing and spraying only, all pruning and harvesting
are done by hand – and that is true throughout the Douro.The landscape just doesn’t permit any
alternative.
To the left is a miniature bulldozer – for sculpting and
maintaining the taludes (the angled
banks between vine plateaus) and doubtless access roads too.Yesterday I was thinking that vinyard
maintenance here is a sort of triathlon – not only are there the actual vines
to maintain all year round, but the landscaping and road and drainage works
must also need year round attention.
I went for a walk into Pinhão, then across the bridge and
along the south shore of the river, opposite Quinta de la Rosa.From the bridge I got a good photo of the
area where I was walking yesterday:
In the centre you can just about see two white buildings –
the one on the right says Calem – another port shipper (see Turista entry from
July).The Calem family used to own
Quinta de Foz, which basically is that hillside vinyard.On top of the middle shoulder of hill above
those buildings you might just barely be able to make out another house against
the trees behind – Casa Vedeal – which is part of Quinta de Foz.Yesterday I walked up past the two
small white buildings and then zig zagged up that hill along the patamares, walking back and forth from
south-facing to east- to north-facing sides (the right-hand folds of hill in
this picture) all the way up to Casa Vedeal.And back down again.The very
first picture posted on yesterday’s blog was taken from most of the way up that
hill, looking south to the opposite bank of the river.
When I got to the south bank myself this afternoon, I had a
marvellous view of Quinta de la Rosa:
Above the two long red roofs you see the line of six windows
with black shutters – that’s the guest house – my room was the third window
(actually french door) from the right.To the left of the roofs are two small houses that are let to larger
groups.Under the roofs are the lagares
and presses, and below them are the cellars where the wines are stored, which
extend under the two guest houses as well.
The family’s own house is a bit further downriver, to the
left of the buildings above:
The beautifully trained vines described above are from the patamares just below the house.If I am understanding the information sheet
in my room correctly, that vinyard above the house, tucked into the fold of the
hill, is the Vale do Inferno, and was planted by the great grandfather of the
present generation owner before the First World War.
Still further down river are some wonderful and very steep socalcos:
Looking at the hills all day, and at the photos again this
evening, I keep thinking of the challenges of managing the harvest from the
different microclimates.Because of the
height of the hills, you get very different conditions from top to bottom, due
to sheer altitude (up to 450 metres at Q de la R).Then there’s the fact a single row of vines
can wrap around a hillside from south facing over the river (think about the
mists rising from the river in the autumns, and the varying degrees of effect
from bottom to top of the vinyards above) to east facing to north facing
(differing degrees of sun all around the curve of the hill, effects of proximity
to the facing hillsides).And then the
fact that most vinyards are a mixture of grape varieties – so each vine
reacting differently, according to the inherent qualities of the variety –
greater susceptibility to heat, to damp, etc. etc.Look at the folds of hills and the shadows
cast (hours of sunlight on any given vines), just in the photo above, or the
first photo posted yesterday.Mind
boggling.
Going back to the first photo of the quinta, the left most
tall skinny pine marks the eastern end of a long, narrow slightly curved pool
built into one of the patamares – where I had a lovely swim to cool off after
all the walking, and then dozed in the sun on a long deck chair.Bliss.
Farewell Pinhão
Wednesday, 14 October 2009
Was up and out and walking to the train station this morning
at 7:00 am – still deep blue night skies but only two planets showing and the
crescent moon on its back above the hill opposite my window.As I walked, I could hear fish jumping in the
river and a rooster crowing from somewhere above Pinhão.
Coming back in the train, paying closer attention to
landscape – you can definitely see the change from the Cima Corgo to the Baixa
Corgo – in the Cima Corgo around Pinhão it is visibly drier, rockier, and the
plants besides vines and low scrub are really only olive and pine trees.Once past Corvelinhas, the village that more
or less marks the dividing line between the two, though you are still in hills,
it all feels much more green, there is a lot more land that is simply forest –
a mixture of deciduous and conifer.Much
more fertile – the visible effects of the generally higher rainfall in that area.Fascinating.This photo taken Monday from the train when we first came down to the
Douro, so Baixa Corgo – I think if you compare this to all the other photos of
the area around Pinhão you can see what I mean.
As with my first visit to Burgundy, things I have read about
and understood intellectually now made visible make so much more sense to
me.It’s like connecting the dots –
seeing all these things I’ve been told affect the flavour and quality of the wine,
now I can really comprehend the connections.When I drink the wine now, I picture the landscape.
At the train station in Pinhão are wonderful azulejos – the tile panels painted with
a variety of scenes, mostly to do with the harvest, and inside there is a
little museum like display of photos and texts about the vinyards and history
of the region.I copied down this
wonderful quote – Miguel Torga is the nom de plume for a 20th
century portuguese writer of poetry, short stories and a diary.He died in 1995, no date was indicated on the
placard with this quote.I think this is
wonderfully apt.
Diario III
Pinhão, September 25th.Impossible to imagine a more beautiful thing in the world than the
Valley of Pinhão when the first autumn colours visit the place.The people take a look from the top and seem
not to be on earth anymore.
They lean forward over a precipice of colours and, deep down, see two
rivers which still their thirst with one another.But there has never been dropped a line about
this, no legend embedding such splendour, never ever a poet travelled through
with his lyre.
In Pinhão.I took the
train from Oporto, which wound north, then east, then back south to the Douro,
then east right along the river to Regua, then on to Pinhão.Absolutely spectacular journey, recommend it
highly.
A little Douro geography lesson for those who aren’t
familiar… wish I had a map to patch in here, will work on that.
From Oporto to Regua, as the crow flies (NOT as the river
winds) is roughly 43 miles, to Pinhão about 55, to Pocinho about 80 miles.The vinyard district for grapes for port (and
increasingly for unfortified Douro wines as well) begins about 38 miles from
Oporto, the eastern side of a mountain range called Serra do Marão.From there to Pocinho there are three
distinct regions, first the Baixo Corgo, then the Cima Corgo, then the Douro
Superior.Baixo and Cima mean lower and
upper, or below and above, the Corgo River.Strictly the Cima Corgo begins a bit further east than the point where
the Corgo River comes into the Douro at Regua.
The difference in regions is primarily climate and to a
lesser degree terrain, which of course hugely affects the grapes and therefore
the style of wine that can be made.
The Baixo Corgo is in the shadow of the Serra do Marão, so
it is the coolest and wettest area, and very fertile.As you continue east the rainfall drops
pretty dramatically (weather systems typically work from west to east, off the
Atlantic) and the land is progressively both drier and stonier (less fertile).If you are familiar with the climate
descriptions used to describe wine regions, then the Baixo Corgo has almost an
Atlantic climate (wet, mild, not too dramatic fluctuations in temperature
either winter to summer or even day to night), the Cima Corgo has a Continental
/ Mediterranean climate (hot summers and days, cold winters and nights, less
rainfall generally), and the Douro Superior is the eastern end, up to the
border with Spain, and has a more extreme Continental climate, with drought a
serious problem; also sheer access was a problem until the past twenty or
thirty years.
Which translates in wine style terms to:Baixo Corgo is high volume, lower intensity
of flavour – good for creating a lighter, simpler style of wine or for blending
and balancing more intense grapes from elsewhere; think Ruby and basic
Tawnies.Cima Corgo is greater intensity
and complexity of flavour – the heart of the region, all the major producers
have properties here – think of your top end rubies, aged tawnies, your vintage
and LBVs (late bottled vintage).The
climate of the Douro Superior is of course the most stressful – which creates
the most powerful intensity of flavour, but in small quantities, so again,
think of your vintage and LBV ports, and blending into your premium tawnies.
Pinhão is the heart of the Cima Corgo.Now you know where I am and why.
Arrived about noon, had lunch and some sleep (almost no
sleep in Oporto the past couple nights between traffic, howling dogs and my own
thoughts once the other things woke me up in the middle of the night), and then
set out to explore.
I am staying at Quinta de la Rosa, about 2 km walk west from
Pinhão train station, on the north bank of the Douro.Very charming accomodation, do stay there if
you can; it’s right on the river.From
the Quinta I basically started walking uphill to the north (well more towards
the sky than towards the north it seemed).
Met my first grapes very shortly:
I was told Quinta de la Rosa started their harvest in mid-August
and finished about three weeks ago, so these must have been unripe at harvest
time and left behind.So I had no
compunction about tasting them – wonderfully intensely sweet and
flavourful.These were about the size of
blueberries and the bunch was not very tightly packed – all the bunches I saw were
quite loose, not like most pinot noir at all.Pips and skin made a higher percentage of the mouthful than the flesh,
but if you are willing to chew a bit, the pips and skin are good to eat too,
very flavourful.Often with pinot noir I
found the pips almost jawbreaking and gave up and spat them out, or if I did
chew through them, found them a bit bitter.I have to say, I sampled a fair few grapes today, and all of them were
thoroughly edible, though some were less intensely flavoured than this first
lot.No idea re varieties.Tomorrow I will attend the tour and tasting
at 11:00 am, and hopefully learn more.[Learned
that this vinyard is a mix of varieties, so still can’t be sure.]
All of this area is mountainous – what you see in that first
photo is what I am surrounded by here.The vines are planted on terraces, called patamares.For centuries pre-phylloxera,
the terraces were built with dry stone retaining walls, as much as anything as
a way to use up all the stone excavated to create the flat terraces, and there
were only a couple rows of vines per terrace – one, two, maybe three at
most.
That is actually part of the view from the window of my
room, to the hillside opposite.You can
see the wonderful old stone walls, and the vinyards, and olive trees as well.
When the vinyards all had to be torn out and re-planted post
phylloxera the cost of labour had risen somewhat since prior centuries, so
other methods were adopted.First they
made broader terraces, called socalcos,
of 10 or 20 rows of vines on an incline between retaining walls, like these on
the right side:
By the mid 20th century labour costs had risen
further, so stone walls were out of the question, and they returned to the
narrow and flat patamares, with two
rows of vines, but built atop steeply angled banks (taludes), not walls – god bless bulldozers.Erosion can be a problem, as can weed control
but… beats building miles of stone walls.
Another nice view of a talude:
Which brings me to schist.You want stoney soil for your grapes?This is stone heaven.Schist is a
generic term for any sort of rock that forms (and breaks up) in layers (think
about mica) – here it is clay based, and quite acidic.And wandering around, it is mostly rock
underfoot, there is some clay dust, and I saw one or two patches of slimey very
clay silt-ey mud on the roads, but most of all, it’s rock.And a good thing about rock in any vinyard is
heat retention and reflection back up to the grapes, aiding ripening and
minimising the impact of temperature swings from day to night.
More schist under the vines.But look carefully – see to the left of the wooden post a dark blue
triangular bit?That is the broken stump
of a blue schist post – another piece of it is lying just to the right of the
foot of the vine.This type of schist is
very very hard, and is most common at the far eastern end of the Douro.I saw hundreds of these stone posts
throughout the vinyards, though as they break they are being replaced with
wood.
Here, an intact blue schist post, and alongside it a vine
which was cut down, and a new spur trained up from the stump – string was taped
to the stump and then tied up to the first wire of the trellis, and the cane
trained up along the string till it was long enough to be caught in the trellis
wires.Beyond, a nice eyeful of
patamares.
Here, baby vines probably only a year or two old – notice
the deep depressions dug out around them, called caldeiras.These collect and
channel water down to the roots of the young vines as they become
established.Given the dry climate, new
vines are watered by hand during the first few years to give them a fighting chance
until their roots are deep, broad and strong enough to find sufficient water
for themselves.
And when they grow up to be big and strong…
In another year or so like the first vine on the left, and
after that, in about 20 years’ time, like the next one along the row. The vines here are trained much higher than in
Burgundy – three rows of wires here, the bottom wire is below my hip, the
middle around my second rib counting up from the waist, and the top wire around
my shoulder or even chin in some cases (I’m 5’6” or 1.65 m).Versus in Burgundy, generally two rows of
wires, first around knee height and the upper wire was under my armpit – I
could lean over the top and cut on the other side of a row if necessary.
Finally, a view from halfway up this hill, looking north by
east towards Pinhão on the banks of the river.Those are vine wires across the middle of the photo by the way, not
cable car cables!
After a day in Lisbon and three in Oporto, and still no
leads on job front, betook myself to the beach today – Vila do Conde, north of
Oporto on the Atlantic coast.And in
case you can’t tell from the picture – around 30 degrees and cloudlessly sunny.So glad I packed the bikini, even if the
business attire was all a waste of space in the pack…
If you’ve enjoyed the blog… if you’re in the wine trade… and
perhaps looking to hire! I would love to hear
from you – click on the hyperlink on my name above and send me an e-mail.
I am looking for employment in the wine trade, for
preference in Portugal or France.My greatest
interest is the viticulture, but I have a range of skills from a business
background which would be applicable in the office, in tourism, you name
it.
Next week I go to Portugal for 9 days, to perform
reconnaissance on my chances of employment in Oporto, and whilst there I hope
to get up to Pinhão and finally see some of these legendary quintas and
vinyards for myself.
Meanwhile, to tide us all over till then, another picture
from last July in Gaia… love the sense of the height of the hill from
here.Wouldn’t it be nice to walk up
that hill every day to work?Sigh…
Collected my pay from Anne Saturday night, and later sat
staring at the euros and finding it hard to connect the dosh with the
work.Somehow the friendships formed
during the harvest and the memories of events both in and out of the vinyards
are a far more real and tangible reward to me than the pile of euro notes in my
hands.
One note, I hope comes to the attention of the right
person:in reviewing the blog statistics
the other night I found I was getting referrals from Mark Squires’ chat page on
erobertparker.To the gentleman who
kindly posted the link to my blog and referred folks here – thank you!I am not a subscriber, so was unable to email
you through that site to let you know, but that was very kindly done, thank
you.
Back in Old Blighty now, have already met up with Simone
again at a tasting in London yesterday, and will resume trying to find
permanent employment in the wine trade.I imagine the blog will be quiet for a little while here, till I have
work – or a bottle of wine! – worth recording.
I will close this little chapter with a random but pretty
image – last Thursday when Paul and I went over to Morey St. Denis to meet his
friends at Domaine Lucie et August Lignier, we drove on a little chemin along
the top of the hill.This view would be
from the top of Les Rouges I think, and the Chateau du Clos de Vougeot would be just offstage left. Notice grapes not yet harvested. Love the heat/humidity haze over the distance
and the sense of hillside running down.And the thought of all those lovely hectares (and by extension,
hectolitres!) of pinot noir…
Rained overnight, and then started showering again as we
went up to the Haute Côtes de Nuits vinyards, over near Concoeur.The plateau up there dead level and an area
of mixed production – vines, all the currants and raspberries and strawberries
for Fruirouge, and some other fields that were ploughed up at the moment but I
think are used for cereals.
We harvested like madmen in that rain, and when it stopped
after about an hour, you could distinctly hear the slowdown of secateur snipping.Again mud and weeds clinging in massive
quantities to our boots – we were issued parkas and wellies before we left the
domaine.But as yesterday, it all lifted
and cleared and by lunch time the sun was out and we were down to only essential
layers when we finished up after lunch.
I asked whether the rain the past few days would affect the
grapes much, and was told no – it had been dry enough long enough over the
season and at this stage the grapes were ripe enough that the showers the past
few nights and odd shower during the day would make no difference to the
quality of the harvest.
And just as last year, suddenly we were all done,
that was it, and I felt utterly bereft.There is still the Haute Côtes Blanc Cuvée Marine to get in, but that
won’t be ready for another week – Anne expects to harvest it next weekend, the
26th or so, but I cannot stay for that.
Soggy but slowly drying coupeurs on the haute côtes mid
morning:
Jan van Roekel joined us today at Domaine Anne Gros and did
a day’s harvesting; I know he will spend the weekend at Domaine David Clarke in
Morey St. Denis, do look at his site for his photos and more on his perception of the harvest
across the region: http://www.burgoholic.com
We resumed harvesting today after four days off, beginning
with the Bourgogne Blanc, a small parcel to the east of the N74 and railway
lines.Overcast but mild, there had been
rain overnight but the ground was firm, and we got the grapes harvested in good
time, just two hours I think, pausing only to wave to the commuters in the
trains passing by.
Then to the Chambolle Musigny, Combe d’Orveau.I’ve drunk this wine several times this week,
and it is lovely, it may be my favourite of hers.Beautiful vinyard in the tail end of the
combe, the entire parcel from this break back to the end is hers, just over one
hectare.
You can see there was still some high fog and overcast
(about 10:15 I think), but that all burned off by mid day, and after lunch it
was really very warm and blazing sun, so much so that after an hour or two I
felt a little sick and dizzy and switched teams to harvest in the shadow that
was beginning to creep down the southwest side of the combe.Also the ground here was softer and muddier,
and with all the herbage underfoot, you found yourself with a kilo of mud and
weeds clinging to each boot… slows you down a bit!Grapes in good condition, some pourriture but
again nothing like last year, and that whiff of that lovely smokey scent
occasionally, also thyme.
There was noticeably more insect life here – I suppose with
the patch of grass in front and the woods all around, also Anne letting things
grow between vines, it’s a cosy ecosystem for the little darlings.Afterlunch I sat with a friend leaning against the wall of the domaine in the
sun, and we were discussing this, when he said, “as a matter of fact…” and
reached to pull an insect out of my hair.I noticed one on his collar.He
spotted another tangled in my plait… all I could think of was the National
Geographic specials of the baboons in Africa picking fleas off one
another!!Later in the afternoon I
startled the crew with a small shriek and begged the man in the next allée to
harvest the grapes for me from his side – my side of one entire vine was
blanketed with a cobweb and there was a seriously huge ugly translucent
yellowey white spider in the middle.He
laughed till he saw the spider himself, and then cut the grapes as quickly as
he could and from as great a distance as possible!I really cannot bear spiders…
Jan and I and the three Belgian guests from the gite all had
dinner together at Chez Guy in Gevrey Chambertin.Excellent meal and service, wonderful company
and good wines. At least two of the men had escargots for their starters and
said they were the best they’d had yet, and I had a lovely composed salad of
lightly cooked mini vegetables with generous shavings of summer truffles.The truffles were so fragrant, and in an odd
reversal, I was trying to place the nose of the truffles amongst some wines I
had had, possibly mature Mascarello nebbiolos, a Cigliutti barbaresco, or some
Lisini pre-phylloxera wines I once tasted (interestingly no french wine came to
mind).
We had three wines with dinner, the first bottle 2006 Bourgogne from Bachelet, and the second 2002 Gevrey-Chambertim from Serafin, both excellent, real pleasures.After that, I said I couldn’t possibly have
more, I had to wake up and harvest the next day, and shook my head when the
sommelier offered a fresh third glass.I didn’t hear what they ordered, and when the bottle was placed on the
table, it was turned so I could see only the first letter C of the name – but I
recognised the script instantly – Domaine Georges Roumier’s Chambolle Musigny
2006 – and begged the sommelier to bring me that fresh glass after all… of
course we were drinking it too young, but as always with Christophe Roumier’s
wines, a sensual and complex mouthful.Bliss… I took the cork home for souvenir (though I did NOT sleep with it
under my pillow as my friends expected!But only because I was afraid of losing it).Nice end to the day.
[late postings – apologies – power issues with british laptop versus
french electricity, now resolved!]
Yesterday had a pleasant surprise – Jan van Roekel called
and stopped in for lunch, he has been visiting various vinyards, working at
some.All indications from his many
sources are that the harvest is a good one.Elodie came in while we were chatting, and said Anne is very pleased as
well – probably less than 2% of the grapes from her own vinyards were discarded
from the sorting tables, so little pourriture, and so wonderfully ripe.The harvest was compared to 2005, maybe
better.
Rained over night a bit, morning foggy, walked into Nuits
St. Georges to fetch gougères for breakfast, a bit eerie wandering through the
vines, could only see maybe a kilometre ahead around 8:00 AM – name that
vinyard if you can!!
On the way back it had lifted a bit and I could see about 3
km by 9:00.It did finally lift
altogether and turn into a warm if hazy sunny day by noon or so.
Don’t think I have mentioned, but staying in Anne’s gite are
a trio of Belgians on holiday.Well,
semi-holiday.Christian and Martine have
done a couple days’ harvesting work at Domaine Lucie et August Lignier in Morey
St. Denis, and today Paul and I drove up to see them at lunch time – Kellen
Lignier had finished her harvest that day, and extended the invitation to the
celebratory lunch to Paul, whom she knows from previous domaine visits, and
Paul kindly brought me along too.
Celebrations in full swing, Kellen decked in a fabulous vine
wreath on her head and huge smile, she is very pleased with her harvest.
After visiting her cellars under Castel de Tres Girard all
four of us went up to Gevrey Chambertin and took a walk up along Clos St.
Jacques, which had been harvested as far as I could see.Then along the top of the hill, and down
through the vinyards to the road through the combe, Les Verroilles was not yet
harvested.Driving back, could see some
vendangeurs in Mazis Chambertin and elsewhere, the harvesting seems to be
spread over a longer period of time this year versus last, you see a few teams
each day dotted around the hillsides.
View from the top of Clos St. Jacques down to Gevrey, around
15:00 in the afternoon, you can almost feel that warm hazy sun.
Anne has split her harvesting as some of the grapes were not
yet ripe.Still to go, probably starting
this Friday, are the Haute Côtes de Nuits rouge et blanc, a little Bourgogne
Blanc and the Chambolle Musigny Combe d’Orveau.She is very kindly allowing me to continue to lodge here so I can resume
work for this second tranche.
Monday Simone and I walked into Nuits St. Georges for
groceries, then spent the day catching up on our respective blogs; yesterday I walked up to Chambolle
Musigny where I had hoped to find work for these off days, but no luck, the
vigneron for whom I wanted to work said he had a complete team and didn’t need
any more.Rats.Simone made a wonderful soup for dinner and
we consoled ourselves with a bottle of rather nice Santenay 1er cru Beaurepaire
2006 Domaine Chanzy (Bouzeron, Sâone et Loire) – they make both white and red
from this vinyard, we had the red.
By the way – conditions update – Monday was cool but sunny,
Tuesday was cold and overcast, and late afternoon, perhaps 16:00, there were
some light showers, not even that, call it the odd dribble.Today, so far (almost noon) it’s distinctly
milder and started overcast but is getting brighter.
This morning, Simone took off to visit Oporto and the Douro
(I am insanely jealous), and I walked around to the cuverie.As I came around the back of the building,
the pong of fermentation was overwhelming and not terribly inviting.They have to leave the big garage doors
either end of the building open about six inches over night otherwise the
buildup of CO2 would probably kill you on contact when you walked in in the
morning.During the day while they work,
one door is pretty fully opened for both light and air.
I found them doing the first of two daily remontages.As the wine ferments the skins and pips and
stems rise to the top of the vat, creating a cap; remontage is the act of pumping the liquid wine from underneath
back up and over the cap, thereby re-combining the two a bit.The more time the skins etc. spend submerged,
the greater the extraction of colour and flavours into the wine.
First they force down through the cap a big cylinder,
perforated at the bottom end to let the wine into the cylinder – this creates a
source of wine to be pumped back over the top which will be free of skins and
gunge that might bung up the pump and hoses.
Then they get the hoses organised – one drawing clear wine
out of the cylinder, another pouring it back over the top of the cap. This runs for about 20 minutes.
Alternatively, one performs pigeage – this is manually pushing the cap down back under the
wine.I asked Pascal why choose one or
the other, he said the pigeage is
done on very small vats, like this one, which holds Vosne Romanée.Here’s what the cap looked like before we –
actually I – began the pigeage.That broom stick has a sort of inverted
colander on the end, better picture shortly.Pascal made one pass, then handed it to me, and as I began he cautioned
me, “Doucement, doucement” – gently, gently.
By the way, that vertical grey pipe cylinder – again, that’s
put in temporarily so they can draw out a sample of the wine sans pips and
skins and all to perform their chemical analysis.Pascal let me taste the Echézeaux, Bourgogne
Rouge, Richebourg and Vosne Romanée.Less than a week old and the wines are still quite sugary and sweet like
a child’s fruit drink, and the colour is a slightly cloudy but very decidedly
pink, like a dark cyclamen, but already you can distinctly taste the wine
character – more pronounced fruit character in the Richebourg and Bourgogne
Rouge, and fruit plus earth, herb or spice in varying degrees in each the Echézeaux and Vosne Romanée.The Echézeaux was the first thing we harvested, so this was day six in vat, and it
was the darkest nearly-red and least sweet (though still no sensation of
alcohol), as you would expect, whereas the Vosne Romanée and Richebourg were
really bright pink and sugary, as they have had only about 3 days.The first part of the Vosne was harvested the
first day, and is in the blue vat, but the Vosne that was harvested Sunday is
being fermented separately, in the little stainless steel vat pictured here.
When you hold your hand over the cap, you can feel the heat
rising, it’s very warm.Elodie and
Pascal added carbon ice (dry ice) to cool it down.Here’s Elodie dropping in a bit of ice and
Pascal pushing it down under the cap.
As the ice melts in and reacts, not only do you get smoke
pouring out, but you can distinctly hear the sound of simmering, and see the
surface of the smoke on the vat burbling up.Real Macbeth three witches’ scene stuff.Stand back!
When it has simmered down a bit, Pascal opened up a hole in
the cap (all I could think of was ice fishing!) and the carbon ice bubbled up
again one more time.Better shot of the pigeage instrument here, too. You can tell how much it has cooled (not in
the photo but in life!) – whereas before I could feel the heat with my hand six
inches above the cap, after the carbon ice was added, I had to hold my hand
much closer, maybe two inches, to feel any warmth.Also the side of the tank was icy cold where
the smoke had poured down.
The photo may look blurry, it’s not, that’s the haze of lingering
carbon ice smoke.
Anne’s lineup of vats, from left to right, the three big
stainless steel are the Savigny, Nuits St. Georges (the two negoçiant wines)
(both 38), then her Echézeaux (??), then the blue vats are Chambolle Musigny
(50), Haute Côtes de Nuits (50) (both empty at the moment), then two vats for
the Bourgogne Rouge (50 & 45), the one behind the ladder is the Richebourg
(37), then out of sight continuing to the right are the Vosne Romanée (24),
Clos Vougeot (50) and Chambolle Musigny (50) (empty), and that little round vat
in front of me is the rest of the Vosne Romanée (9).
The numbers after each wine name are the capacity, in
hectolitres, of the vat – but not necessarily how much wine will come out of
it, of course.
So, doing a little maths here… a hectolitre is 100
litres.Taking the Richebourg as an
example – 37 HL capacity, let’s call it 35 (can’t recall right now how full it
really is).So 3500 litres makes
4600750 ml bottles, which would be
about 380 cases (I am rounding a bit).You know not all of that goes into the market, Anne holds some back for
her own cellar, and of course that starting 35 hl fill of the vat would include
the cap which ultimately gets left behind, so actually you are getting less
than 35 hl of liquid wine, really… so ratchet all those numbers down.You get the drift.Tiny quantities.Anne has something between 6 and 7 hectares
of vinyards, total.
Yesterday as I was wandering around the vinyards and Nuits
St. Georges, I saw a number of vans coming in decorated with flowers and
tooting their horns – they had finished their harvests.And I am hearing more of that outside the
domaine this morning as I write.
Also yesterday I heard from Jan Van Roekel, the dutchman who
writes the Burgoholic website ( http://www.burgoholic.com ), who had spent the
day harvesting David Clarke’s Vosne Romanée.He said David won’t harvest the rest of his wines until the
weekend.
During my wanderings, I did see someone harvesting mechanically
in Nuits St. Georges, but I did not have my camera on me.Last year I had seen a mechanical harvester
parked in a shed in Concoeur (the tiny village near the Haute Côtes de Nuits
vinyards), and it basically has conveyor belts of combs between the tires which
rake up the bunches off the vines and dump them in a bin.I will keep an eye out for another one.Simone and I did find a tractor out in the
vinyards when we were walking one evening, and I took a peek to see if it was a
harvester, but no, just a normal tractor, randomly left parked in the
vines.
Cool slightly cloudy morning which cleared off and warmed up
wonderfully.Working with a small team
(7, 8 or 9 depending who was counting!!) who all knew one another well by now,
was really very pleasant.
In this vinyard, as in some others, there were a few odd
vines, which being ripe were harvested and thrown in with the pinot noir.In this case, three lovely bunches of chardonnay.
We finished the Richebourg, a bit on the lower ground and
then the entire upper parcel.As we were
walking back to the cars, Pascal pointed out Lalou Bize-Leroy’s vines in
Richebourg.
I hope you can see – the vines are not pruned off across the
top, but rather wrapped round in big spirals.Lalou Bize-Leroy was one of the earliest proponents of bio-dynamic
methods in Burgundy.I have had her St.
Vivant, and my notes have it triple starred as my favourite of that night’s
tasting of a range of Vosne Romanée wines.We also passed by the domaine Romanée-Conti’s parcel of Richebourg, and
the vines are incredibly old, huge things, someone said close to 100 years old,
some of them.
Before leaving Richebourg, we took a (most of the) team
photo:
Most importantly, the front row is comprised of Jean-Luc,
Elodie and Anne Gros.
From there to Vosne-Romanée Les Barreaux to finish the last
of that parcel.
Adjacent to Anne’s parcel are some vines that are thoroughly
neglected; apparently whoever owns them decided hard drinking was easier than
hard work and the parcel has just gone to wrack and ruin.There were a few evil looking grapes, but it
was a heartbreaking sight.We were
trying to figure out whether amongst us we could raise the money to buy it and
set it to rights.Lottery winnings in
four countries ought to just about suffice.
We finished up the Vosne-Romanée and headed back to the
domaine.When we got there, we found
Anne and Patrick at work on the sorting table, and deliveries of grapes being
made.This year, for the first time,
Anne will make two wines as a negoçiant, and these were the Nuits St. Georges
village grapes being delivered and sorted.They were arriving in small tea crates which Pascal and Jean-Luc were
tipping out onto the table by hand, so they could be very carefully
sorted.Sadly, there was a lot of
pourriture and unripe grapes that had to be weeded out to meet Anne’s
standards.
As the work had to be completed before we sat down to lunch –
you can’t stop and start – we all pitched in to do what we could to help.On the sorting table in the photo below are
Anne, a woman whose name I don’t know, and the backs of Simone and
Patrick.Madame Gros is using a sort of
window washing squidgy to make sure the grapes that drop down from the
de-stemmer get onto the little conveyor belt to take them up into the vat, and
Anne’s youngest daughter, Marine (perhaps about 8 to 10 years old), is busy
stamping down the stems and discarded grapes to make more room in a vat which will later
on be emptied on a compost heap somewhere.Off stage are other folks, emptying bins of reject grapes and stems
from the sorting table and de-stemmer into Marine’s vat, tipping tea crates
full of grapes into the sorting table, washing the emptied tea crates, etc.
etc.
In the view below Elodie is standing ready to clear down
stems from that chute into the bin.The
two stainless steel vats on the left are the new ones – I’d seen them standing
outside the day I arrived – for the negoçiant wines.The one in progress is the Nuits St. Georges,
as I said, and the left hand one will be used for a Savigny (due to arrive
Monday).The right hand vat contains
Anne’s Echézeaux, and then you can just glimpse the first of her concrete
vats, painted that bright blue, containing (or about to contain) all her other
wines.
When the sorting was completed and all grapes in the vat, all
the equipment was washed down and made
ready for the next batches of grapes to be sorted – the last of the Richebourg
and Vosne Romanée – after lunch.
And then we had quite a lunch!!To celebrate the conclusion of the first part
of the harvest work, we started with a NV Cremant de Bourgogne Vitteault
Alberti – excellent – nice delicate citrus and yeast notes and lovely persistent
but delicate petillance.Then – from
slightly hazy memory – we had 2007 Haute Cotes de Nuits Blanc Cuvée Marine
(very rich dense orchard fruit, a little citrus, dry of course, nice lingering
finish) we had some of the bourgogne rouge 2007, and I think there
were bottles of 2007 Clos Vougeot. What does
stand out in memory is the 1995 (yes really! That I DO remember clearly) Vosne Romanée [earlier reported as Clos Vougeot, guess I didn't remember so clearly, a friend corrected me!) and 1999 Chambolle Musigny Combe d’Orveau.Oh sublime… The Vosne Romanée all earth,
stone, herbs blended in with the ripe fruit and the Chambolle just wonderful
dense spice, fruit and smoke.The pain
all went away again…
Anne decanted the Vosne Romanée, and the Chambolle Musigny
was served from its bottle.At dinner
(roughly five or six hours later I’m guessing), when we finished the two older vintages,
the Vosne had opened a bit further but was by no means falling over, and
the Chambolle was holding rock steady.
Final image to sum up the day and in fact the whole four
days of harvest work :
Yes, Cynthia on a tractor.And better still… all those grapes?Richebourg.
[this has turned out rather a long posting – get tea now]
The morning began with getting in the last of the Bourgogne
Rouge.Little new to say there, except
for one slightly off piste observation.
Some at least of my audience will be familiar with a film
called Bienvenue Chez les Ch’tis (huge thank you to the friend who gave me the
DVD).The rest of you should watch it if
you can, it’s a stitch even if you don’t understand a word of the french, as I
can attest after three viewings.Ch’tis
are kind of like Geordies, or Glaswegians – they are the folks who live up
north and talk very strangely and unintelligibly.The story is essentially, man from Marseilles
(deep and sunny south of France) is told he has been transferred to strange,
frightening, foreign and cold north of France, the area around Calais and
Lille.After a very rocky start, he enjoys
it all despite himself, and is gutted to leave after two years to return to
Marseilles.A lot of the humour in the
film has to do with word play – how things are pronounced by the Ch’tis versus
the usual french, and misunderstandings that arise, and this southerner
learning to speak and comprehend the local dialect.
The reason I bring this up is that amongst our gang this
year we had un vrai Ch’ti.As best I can
describe it, the Ch’tis gargle their french like mouthwash.The guy naturally took a lot of teasing, but
he gave as good as he got, and the banter (and just the sound of his voice) was
hugely entertaining as we slogged through all those bloody great fat grapes for
the Bourgogne Rouge.
As we were finishing up that vinyard, I did get one good classic
shot of the pannier in action.At one
point I asked how much those things weigh, filled, and the answer was about 65
kilos – rather more than I do.I
declined the offer of playing pannier for the day.For those unfamiliar from last year’s blog,
the coupeurs cut the grapes and dump them in big garden type buckets which are
periodically emptied into the pannier – the giant bucket carried on the back of
the man who is also called pannier, when you holler out to him to come round so
you can empty your bucket into his, and he can them dump his bucket onto the
sorting table.(See last year’s blog in
the folder on left for details about sorting the grapes.)
Better things were in store, however… namely, Clos Vougeot and
Richebourg.We spent the latter half of
the morning and early afternoon in Clos Vougeot and later afternoon in
Richebourg.
We harvested the bourgogne rouge in cloud cover, but the sun
came out when we went to Clos Vougeot (wouldn’t you?), and as those vines run
east-west, you have the sun warming the eastern side of you as you work, it’s
really quite nice.
Bucket full of Clos Vougeot – we punters were guessing a
full bucket like this might make three or four bottles of wine, that seems high
to me, I must check with Anne or Pascal.Note also the soil – dry, loose, stoney.Or put another way, earth, mineral…
You may recall my allusions to Pinot Beurot (Day One of this
harvest and my 11 July Conditions entry) – well, I met them again in Clos
Vougeot and this time had a camera handy.Gorgeous colour, really glowing peachy rosey mauvey apricotty…
Another thing in this picture – see the far right cluster,
some grapes look sort of collapsed balloon like?That is what pourriture does – a sort of
mould.If you trim out those sad little
things with the tip of your secateurs, you will find some grey gungey mould
around the central stem underneath these poor darlings.And yes, the odd vine’s worth of Pinot Beurot
or Chardonnay grapes does get blended in with all the Pinot Noir in the
wines.
From there to Richebourg.Anne’s parcel is either side of a low retaining wall – the westernmost
vines are a few feet higher at the low end and are on a slope rising to the
west, the ones east of the wall are on flat land.This photo taken looking south, so east is
to your left.Also, fyi, it was taken
Sunday morning about 8:15, hence the sunlight from the east.See how the allée in front of me takes a zig
to the left?That’s where the retaining
wall is.I know this looks as if it is
all a bit of a rise, but if I had a wider angle you would see the more
pronounced rise on the right hand side.
Last year I remembered thinking the grapes were different on
the two parcels but by the time I wrote in the evening I was too tired to remember
what that difference was.Basically:age.The vines on the upper parcel are very old, 50
years or more, mostly, though Anne has had to grub up and replace selected
vines (one of my April postings has a photo of a baby vine).The grapes, broadly generalising now, are
smaller on the older vines – more intensity of flavour.
Lower Richebourg:
Upper Richebourg:
I’m not sure the photos make it clear enough, but the lower
Richebourg bunches are denser and heavier and very tightly packed, the upper ones more loosely packed
of smaller grapes.You can also see the
soil is more fertile – more ground cover grows there, especially in some of the
upper section, which in my mind connects with the more fruit, less earth /
mineral taste versus the Clos Vougeot.
In all the harvesting, when you think you can’t bend over
one more time, it helps hugely to be able to recall the flavour of the wine you
drank last night, and focus on that instead of your back.
Today we got I think most of the lower parcel done, so will
need to revisit tomorrow.At the end of
the day, Anne announced that she needed only a small team on Sunday to finish
up the Richebourg and the Vosne Romanée, only a few hours’ work, so she did not
need the big team assembled today (we were up around 25 or more, I think,
several new folks arrived and one or two gone).Those of us staying at the Domaine of course volunteered to work, and I
think only one contractor was needed to make up the numbers.
That evening at dinner was interesting.One of the vendangeurs is a woman named
Simone, a brasilian woman now living in London.After several years experience as a catering manager she won an award
which gave her a sum of money to use to further her education and
experience.She has chosen to change
gears and work as a sommelier, and has used her prize money to make a tour of
California wine estates, to work the harvest here, and later this week she will
go on to Oporto and visit the Douro.When she returns to London she will be a sommelier at La Gavroche for
some months, and then begin work at Michel Roux junior’s planned new restaurant
in Parliament Square.Her blog can be
viewed at:http://www.caterersearch.com/tabletalk/blogs/simone/default.aspx
Another of the vendangeurs is a young man who is attending
the Lycée Viticole in Beaune – a four year course in viticulture, and he is
doing his work experience with Anne for the first two years of his course (and
is just beginning his second year).He
also plans to be a sommelier; when he finishes in Beaune he hopes to attend a
sommelier school for one year.
He is french, and speaks only a little english, Simone is
brazilian, and in addition to her native portuguese speaks fluent english,
italian and spanish.At dinner he
twigged that she was a sommelier, and apparently decided she couldn’t possibly
be, as she was neither a man nor french, and decided to ask some questions
clearly intended to test her and put her on the spot.Bad mistake.Another french guest at the house and I translated between the two of
them… From memory I think he started by asking what were the burgundian grape
types.Simone rattled them right off, by
region, for all of Burgundy, not just the Côte d’Or.He raised his eyebrows, but carried on,
asking about a particular domaine – she knew the domaine, and named their wines
and grape varieties.At that point she
struck back and began asking him questions, starting with inviting him to name
the grapes of Champagne.He couldn’t get
beyond chardonnay and pinot noir… she informed him of all five varietals (pinot
noir, chardonnay, pinot meunier, pinot blanc and arbane).We tried asking him about Chilean wines… he completely
ignored that question, never even attempted a response.He fired off a few more which Simone handled
with ease.At that point others at the
table were like, Simone, how long have you been doing this?She said you have to know these things for
the WSET Advanced exam, this is the kind of question they ask you, and besides
I want to know these things if I am going to be a sommelier.She also described the meal and the wine
choices she made for her competition.She
finally threw the frenchman an easy one – what is the most planted grape in
Bordeaux?He coloured up and made some
facetious remark, but wouldn’t answer.She kindly advised him it was merlot.
I’m going to get ahead of myself on timeline to finish this
story.The next day (strictly speaking,
tomorrow morning from this posting) we were harvesting the last of the
Richebourg when Pascal held up a bunch of grapes and asked the poor guy aren’t
these merlot?Someone said no, gamay,
someone else said no, sauvignon blanc, someone else said no,
gewurtztraminer.I suggested
tempranillo, Pascal misunderstood me and said, c’est ça!!Topinambour!!! (that’s it – jerusalem
artichoke!!)
That poor kid will never forget merlot for the rest of his
life.He’s young, he’ll live, but
hopefully he will learn a) never underestimate a woman and b) he has a lot to
learn.Pascal summed it up when he told
someone at breakfast, boy, she really wiped her nose with him last night.
Parting shot of the day – and some happy coupeurs at the end
of the bourgogne rouge.From left to
right, Jean-François (Belgium), Simone (Brasil via London), and myself
(England).
Day began cool and overcast but sun was coming through
before lunch, and after lunch we abandoned all but essential layers.It’s getting so I can’t quite tell what’s sun
tan, what’s dirt and what’s bruising on my forearms.
As we headed out, I thought it felt quieter this year – at
8:00 am you hear the roar of tractors and vans as they head out of the domains,
and there are lots of people wandering around at lunch time, but whereas last
year, with such a late harvest, everyone seemed to be harvesting at once, this
year it seems the viticulteurs are picking and choosing their times a bit.It may be that we are starting on a Thursday,
it’s not quite so busy during the week, it may pick up with the weekend.
We did the bourgogne rouge today – there are four different
parcels I think, we split up at one point, I personally was in three of them, I
think the other team went off to harvest the fourth.
Behold bourgogne rouge grapes – big fat blowsy oversexed
things:
This lot, in the first vinyard of the morning, were very
tightly packed bunches, often wrapped around the wires or the vines, which made
it a challenge to cut and detach without mangling.Every time I puncture a grape and feel the
juice trickling down my arm, I wonder how many euros worth of wine I just
wasted.
Long day.At the end
of it, Elodie and Patrick on the sorting table:
Postscript
Well I don’t know about you but I thought that was rather a
dull entry – couldn’t think of anything else to say though, probably sheer
exhaustion.After writing that I went
down to dinner, and it all changed.
I will spare you a detailed account of the late night at the
pool tables of Dijon, except to say the Brazilian and French duo unfortunately
took two out of three from the Belgian and English team, despite some rather
stunning shots.
But best of all, Patrick came in for dinner with two bottles
in his hand, bless…
2007 Richebourg and 2007 Clos Vougeot… how lucky can a girl
get?Both stunning wines, the Richebourg
the more purely silky fruit event, though for me I do get a bit of clovey
peppery note in the tannin after glow, whilst the Clos Vougeot is much more the
expression of terroir, more earth and mineral and spice notes blended with the
fruit in the palate.Both just beautiful
and inspiring to a knackered vendangeur.
From left to right, Brasil, England, Belgium, France.
This may be a slightly wobbly posting, as I learned a new
taste sensation this evening.I am again
staying in the “dortoire de luxe” chez Domaine Anne Gros – and one of the real
treats is Madame Gros’ cooking – not only every day for lunch with all the
vendangeurs, but at night, for dinner, with the other guests lodging here (two
others, now, but expect three more tomorrow).Witness tonight’s dinner: a puréed soupe légumes (all from her own
garden), which is served with a good dollop or two of crème fraiche and a
scattering of grated gruyere, then home made paté with a salade (all lettuces
and herbs from her garden), then cheese, then crepes fresh made (a foot-deep
stack of them) which could be filled with a variety of confitures, all home
made.Oh, and some gateau cassis, home
made, left over from lunch.
But what’s really done me inis something known as a Nikita, as it seems Kruschev rather favoured it
when he visited France, namely, a glass of cheap and cheerful red wine with a
good slug of cassis.I was doubtful too,
but it’s good.Madame keeps box wines
for serving with lunch and dinner, the one at the moment is vin de pays de
l’Aude, something or other Ulysse, a merlot.Cassis is one of the Burgundian specialties, look for the one from Nuits
St. Georges, or in a pinch from Dijon.
I had two.After a
hard day’s work.And I am no longer
feeling pain.Bliss.
The crew is a little different this year – many of the
family and friends are not here, but will be over the weekend, so we have only
20 folks, most of them 20 years old plus or minus, who came through Manpower or
similar agencies.Chatting with them I
gather unemployment is as big a problem here as in England right now.But Guillaume is here again, who is
relentlessly cheerful and talkative and keeps us all in spirits.
Weather perfect – warm, sunny but enough cloud to keep it
from getting too uncomfortable.
We began with the Echézeaux, same as last year.The grapes are very ripe and healthy, hardly any
pourriture, not like last year when it was bad, but it’s been a dry summer, I
suppose that has helped.And best of
all, every now and again I have caught a whiff of that lovely smokey scent
which sometimes turns up in the nose and palate of the wines.
Got that all done mid afternoon then began the Vosne Romanée
lieu dit Les Barreaux – this is the vinyard which is sloped steeply upward to
the south, good stoney soil.The grape
clusters are particularly small – small grapes, small clusters, often multi-clusters
from a single stem, hell to harvest (locating, then cutting then extricating
all those itty bits without knocking off or crushing grapes).Also met my first Pinot Beurot grape – you
may recall I encountered this in wine form at Mischief and Mayhem (see
Conditions, 11 June).I had left some
clusters behind on a vine because they were still quite rosey and translucent –
which for Pinot Noir would mean deeply underripe.Someone called me on it, and we asked Elodie,
who said they were Pinot Beurot (the Burgundian for Pinot Gris), and to harvest
them.
We didn’t quite finish it, I heard Pascal say that when it
was done tomorrow we were going to start on the Bourgogne Rouge.Both vinyards today had been recently
ploughed, I think, the ground quite soft and fluffy underfoot – barring the
rocks, of course, and the odd thistle.You would think harvesting uphill might be easier – not SO far to bend
over – but no.It helps immensely if you
remember to pull in your abs before you bend over, or at least when you
remember after, but it’s actually incredibly difficult to keep your abs tight when
bent double.Try it – get up out of that
chair and try it.Something about
bending over nose to knees makes you want to puff out your abs, but the back is
helped a lot if you can keep them tight.
Between that effort (semi-successful) and a lot of stretches
my darling osteo taught me (stretch hamstrings three different ways, then
stretch the bum – yes you can!), I’m not too uncomfortable tonight.See how I feel in the morning.
I did not take the camera into the vinyards today – last
year I could tuck it inside my shirt, above my waistband, and it was safe, but
this year I’ve lost too much weight, it would just fall down the leg of my
jeans.But I did take some photos back
at the domaine, after we were through, and Pascal and Elodie and Jean-Luc were
cleaning up.
And you know I cannot resist a handsome tractor… That’s
Pascal, by the way. (J'adore un beau tracteur. Et ça c'est Pascal.)
One bit of miraculous good luck at last - I am able to extricate myself
from affairs in England for at least a little while and go back to
Vosne Romanée to work the harvest chez Domaine Anne Gros again. She
expects to begin picking next Thursday, 10 September.
I will again keep a blog, but assuming all is like last year, I may not
be able to post it until I return (or can sneak off to Nuits St.
Georges or somewhere to an internet café).
Meanwhile, Anne has made some updates to her website, including, most
helpfully, a geneological bit - if, like me, you were confused about
all the various Gros domaines (lots of cousins) - this is a huge help.
Also a good table of the drinkability of her wines going back to 1988,
and lots of other more general information about the domaine,
viticulture, etc. http://www.anne-gros.com/
If you want to keep an eye on the meteo in Vosne Romanée click here
This weather site is excellent, I've even found it highly reliable for
UK and Portugal weather reports too (better than the Met certainly!!)
I know I have posted this photo before, I took it last September as I
walked down from Gevrey to Vosne the day before last year's harvest,
but it is a favourite image - the road to Vosne Romanée winding through
the vinyards. That would be Les Musigny and Les Petits Musigny on the
immediate left on the hill above the monastery and of course the Clos
de Vougeot enclosed by the wall beyond it. Then the road is flanked
by, on the left, Les Grands Échezeaux (that squarish parcel behind the
round blob of tree just beyond the foot of the hill), Les Treux and Les
Suchots, and on the right, Les Échezaux, Les Loachausses, Les Cruots
and Les Suchots. Where the main white road seems to end, is Romanée
St. Vivant, and to the right of it, probably mostly hidden by the
nearby trees, is Richebourg. Sigh... mentally tasting some of them
again as I type.
My knee jerk reaction is to want to ask, have you ever
tasted the wines?But I have to bite my
tongue… because no, maybe they haven’t, and even if they have, they may not
respond to them as I do, so they still wouldn’t get it.Heck, I’m utterly indifferent to Latour.
So, why, or how, did I get so interested in wine?
I grew up oblivious, in fact wine was rather a joke in my
family, witness the six packs of tinned beaujolais for cooking on the boat –
no, I am not kidding.When I was going
off to university my mother came over all domestic and started spouting cooking
and housekeeping tips – including the advice that if I needed wine for cooking,
I should buy Gallo:it came in a gallon
jug with a screw top and would keep for ever, and it was cheap enough to use
for cooking, but not so bad you couldn’t drink it if you had to.After that, needless to day, I wasn’t
remotely interested in wine, didn’t even become aware of the alternatives, till
I came to England.Then I had the great
good luck to fall into friendship with three great gourmands at work – and at
lunch time they would drag me off with them down the pub, where we would drink
something like vinegar whilst they swapped stories of cooking, good meals, good
wines… I was fascinated.I was also
dying to try some of these things they were talking about, but which we
certainly weren’t drinking at lunch time!
The first major turning point was this:in 1998 I had the great good luck to go to Buenos
Aires several times on businesss.A
colleague asked me to bring back a bottle of malbec for him – I cannot remember
the winemaker, alas.One night, out at
dinner alone at a marvellous parillo called La Caballeriza, I ordered a steak
and decided to try some malbec, to find out what my friend was on about.I vividly remember I ordered the steak
medium-well done, and it arrived decidedly rare.I looked at it and thought about saying
something, but decided the chef probably knew better than I did, and to say
nothing.Wise girl.The combination of perfectly au point steak, a roasted sweet potato,
and this incredible earthy spicy tannic malbec… I don’t even know how to
describe the impact.So rich, complex, and
sensual. I was enchanted, and that meal
was the first experience that absolutely determined me to learn more about
wine, both how it was made, and what else was out there.
As it happened, whilst at Berry Bros to buy some champagne
for millennium celebrations I picked up a brochure about their just-launched
wine school and tastings.The first
session was sold out, but I managed to get in on the one in spring 2000.After the introductory course I took a
marvellous course focussing just on Bordeaux and Burgundy, then the WSET
Intermediate Certificate course, and after that began regularly attending
tastings and dinners.For me, the focus
quickly narrowed to Burgundies and Italian wines, and it is the play of food
and wine together which most fascinates me.Very often the dinners will focus on the wines of a single domaine and
the wine maker will attend and talk through the wines, their approach to the
wine making and the unique qualities of their terroir.
As I am often the odd unaccompanied woman at these events, I
have frequently beenseated beside the
host from BBR and therefore near the wine maker as well, so I could listen to the more
informal conversations, not just the stand up routines between courses about
the specific wines being served.I
remember distinctly one early dinner, listening to this and rather wistfully thinking,
these people are so passionate about what they do, they cared so much.I thought about all my years in the financial
industry, and all the people I had ever worked with, and could not recall even
once, any of us, ever being so passionately interested in our work.What a waste of a huge percentage of a
lifetime, to not be passionate about what you do for a living.
Over the next few years I had many good wines and dinners,
and I will write more about some of them another time – for now, just the
life-changers.That malbec and steak in
Argentina was one, this is the other:
In November 2007 I attended a
dinner hosted by Jasper Morris of BBR and Christophe Roumier, the wine maker
from Domaine Georges Roumier in Chambolle Musigny.I know we had his one very rare white wine
with the starter, but honestly I have no memory of it, shame on me, but
true.What I do remember vividly is the
steady crescendo over the meal of extraordinary reds:first his Chambolle-Musigny and Morey St.
Denis Clos de la Bussière 1er Cru side by side, both 2002, and with
the next course we had two of his Ruchottes Chambertin Grand Crus, the 1999 and
1995.
I have a decent taste memory, and will usually recognise
that I have had a wine before, but I have a perfectly rotten memory for names
of wines, vinyards and vintages, shame.Some months after this dinner I was given a
glass of red wine and asked to name the Côtes de Nuits village from which it
came.I tasted that wine and knew
instantly it was Christophe Roumier’s.I
had not had that exact wine before – it was a different vintage of the Clos de
la Bussière – but I instantly recognised the winemaking.Quite simply his wines have a sensuality like
no others – they are just more liquid, more caressing in both flavour and
texture than any other wines I have ever encountered.Each of his wines has a tension between
elegance and power, the precise balance between the two being one of the
identifiers of the wine.
It was his Bonnes Mares 1988 served with the cheese course
of that dinner on 30th November 2007 that changed my life once and
for all.I remember tasting it, setting
the glass down and then and there deciding to revive my French, go to Burgundy
to see these vinyards, and to work the harvest the following year.I simply had to know where this came from and
how it was made. And in 2008 I did those things, and my blog tells most of the odyssey
since then.
In the foreground is Les Ruchots, but in the middle
distance, between the walls and with the house at the southern end, is the
vinyard of Clos de la Bussière, which is a Roumier premier cru monopole.Taken in September 2008. (Footnote - this is Morey St. Denis, so the foreground vinyard is not the source for the Ruchottes-Chambertin.)
Have spent a few days wandering both Oporto and Gaia.I think I mentioned that the last photo of
the lodges in Gaia was taken from the top level of the Luis I bridge – you can
get a feeling for how high up it is.Well, there is also a lower level to the bridge at waterfront level,
where the cars pass over (trams above, pedestrians on both).Climbing up and down that hill on both sides
is good exercise, let me tell you!Next
to the bridge there is an old stone stairway on the Oporto side, which turns
into a steep street for the final stretch upwards, on the Gaia side you can
walk down through the neighbourhood in a series of stairways and switchback
cobbled streets.As I was walking down
that today, I got a nice photo of the roofs as I was coming down – right up
there with walls I think for textural interest.
On Sunday a very dear friend met me in Oporto and took me for a
wonderful lunch at Barão de Fladgate, the restaurant at Taylor’s lodge, near
the top of the hill.The Portuguese take
their lunch as seriously as the French, maybe more so – figure three hours in
Portugal rather than two in France.We
arrived about 13:00 or so, and didn’t leave till after 16:00.The restaurant closes at 15:00 but they
didn’t say a word, just let us finish our repast and our conversation, and when
we finally did leave we found security kindly waiting to let us out at the
gates!
We had a white port, Taylor’s Chip Dry, for aperitif, which
was good – the taste was something between sherry and port – had the bone dryness
and yeasty toasty notes of a dry fino, but also the intense-sweet-dried-fruit
flavours that you think of when you think of port.Fascinating.With our main course (we both had fish) we had the white Falcoaria, the
top wine from Casal Branco (the estate I visited in May), which is made from
100% Fernão Pires grapes, and cut through the richness of the fish nicely.For dessert we had strawberries in one bowl
and melted chocolate in another… heaven. The ruby port served at the end of the meal was lovely with
the chocolate, but the white port actually complemented it surprisingly well
too, I liked the combination. Ruby port was
also delicious with bare fingertips dipped in chocolate, by the way, when I ran
out of strawberries and white port.
Today I stopped at the Taylor’s lodge and was ushered in to
join a tour that was in progress, but missed most of it, which was a
shame.Of course at the lodges all you
really see are the massive storage vats (any where from 20,000 – 100,00 litres)
used for the ruby ports in one room and the 550 litre barrels (pipes) for the
wines to be blended into tawnies in another.Interesting factoid:about 8
million litres of port in their lodges at any given time.All oak, made in Portugal of french,
portuguese or spanish oak.
Taylor’s website is a good one, lots of detailed information
about the production processes and the vinyards, full vintage lists, food
matching notes for all their wines, and some stunning photographs of the
vinyards:
Wandered back down the hill and along the waterfront,
stopped to look at Sandeman’s, which is on the main street along the river
front… if you thought you had trouble with flooding, check the records on their
door post:assuming for a moment that
man is 6 foot tall, that would make the overall door, including the grilled
section above, close to 18 feet overall.Reading from the top, the dates for the Chieras (Floods) are
23/12/1909;03/01/1962;28/12/1860;alongside the middle lintel is 02/02/1825,
below that it says Chieras/Floods again, and the date 21/02/1966;next is 20/01/1853;23/12/1989;01/03/1978; the next level was reached on two dates, 09/01/1996 and
07/02/1979;and at the bottom
06/01/2001.
Thursday, 30 July 2009
Return to Gaia this morning and visited another port lodge,
this one Calem, right on the waterfront.Had a full proper tour there, which was interesting – they have a nice
little museum which explains how the port is made, with good photos of the harvest
and the incredible terraced landscape of the vinyards, and maps of the Douro
and its tributaries – and at the foot of the mural was a load of schist – the
stone-slabby soil which characterises the vinyards.Then through to the lodges, the immense vats
of ruby port, then the smaller pipes where the various wines are held for
blending into the 10, 20, 30 and 40 year tawnies.Interesting that the large vats are used for
50 or 60 years, the smaller pipes potentially as long (if the wine is being
held for a 40 year tawny), and after Calem’s is through with them, they are
sold to a whisky distiller to use for their whiskies.Then a tasting of a white port and a riserva
tawny, both pleasant enough going down but a little more of an alcoholic burn
to the finish than I would have liked.Both young wines for prompt drinking, of course, they don’t waste the
vintage or older things on the tourists, and I don’t blame them.
One last pretty touristy picture:sitting on the Gaia waterfront, looking at
the barcos rabelos – the boats
traditionally used to bring the barrels of wine down river from the vinyards to
the lodges in March after the harvest.Now I gather steel tanker trucks are more the order of the day, but
there is still a festival in June to mark the occasion when the boats are all
out on the river.They have a square
rigged sail, with a spar across the top of the sail and the lower corners
managed by lines either side, as the sail billows out over the barrels of wine
carried on the forward half of the boat.The waterfront opposite is Ribeira, the oldest bit of Oporto, and you
can see the upper reach of the Luis I bridge making landfall there at the top
right.
Left Beaune on the 16th and went to Lyon.Good choice.It was the heart of the silk weaving industry for centuries, so there
was a marvellous textile museum to keep me amused on a very rainy Friday.[Look for more on this in the Misc. Topics
folder now posted]Nothing wine related to
report – shame on me, I never did drink any Rhone or Beaujolais, the only
proper meal I had was at an Italian restaurant less than two blocks from the
hotel, that was about as far as I could stagger, I was so tired and
hungry.Good choice – half dozen lovely
tiny pan fried escallopes of veal and some wonderful artichoke stuffed ravioli,
washed down with an anonymous italian earthy red, which was bliss.Well, the dessert was pretty blissful too – a
layer of red and black currants concealed beneath a good dollop of zabaglione,
all of which had been run under the grill.No the zabaglione did not liquify, it got slightly browned and crisped a
bit, which is hard to imagine I know, but it worked, trust me.
Lyon is lovely, I recommend it – mini Paris but much more
charming, I think.Parts of the town are
near vertical – streets turn into long stairways – but it is worth it, both for
the views and the exercise and sheer charm and fascination.
Then on to Bordeaux, which disappointed me, I have to
say.So much so about three hours after
my arrival Monday I tried to change my ticket to leave the next night, and
couldn’t, all trains were booked, so I guess everyone else had the same
idea.Again, nothing wine related to
report, except a sighting from the train of a mind bogglingly prairie-like
expanse of vines in Pomerol or Lalande.I made the best of it for two more days, and escaped Wednesday.
Had an interesting journey to Oporto via train.Departing Bordeaux about 19:00, arriving Irun
(just over the line into Spain) around 22:00, where we had to go through a
security checkpoint (heaving the backpack off and then back on again, ugh, have
some fabulous bruises to remember Irun by), and then on to a truly antiquated
train to go rattling across Spain and Portugal overnight, the kind with a
corridor alongside enclosed compartments with two banquettes of seats.I was wandering the corridor trying to find
my seat when an elderly portuguese man leaned out of one compartment and took
my ticket, then took my hand and dragged me in to show me my seat number,
25.Fascinatingly, my seat number 25 was
in a room with 12, 14 (which was numbered directly above an armrest, ouch!) and
16, then 25, 27 (armrest again) and 31. Yup, 31.
My companion turned out to be a bit of a character, and
bless him he really did his best to converse with me, in Portuguese.I whipped out my phrase book and did my best
in return, and you know, we did ok.When
he realised I was English he grabbed me for a kiss on each cheek and crowed
Ronaldo!Manchester United!Well, yes, but isn’t he with Real Madrid
now?Didn’t matter.It seems he (my companion, not Ronaldo) was
just returning from Liverpool via Geneva, Frankfurt and possibly the Czech
Republic as well, not sure if I got that Czech bit straight.Not bad for a man on the cusp of 74.His luggage consisted of two supermarket
carrier bags and a bottle of red wine.
We finally dropped off to sleep only to be blown off our
banquettes by the arrival of the ticket checkers around midnight, ringing a
hand bell and turning the lights on, in case the bell didn’t suffice to wake
us.Got almost no sleep – just as I
would drowse off, either the train would come to a literally screeching halt at
some station, or it would hit a rough patch and start juddering so violently,
my poor face would start bouncing against the seat like a jack hammer – also an
effective means of waking someone up.One good thing – so old a train had proper windows that could be opened,
which was lovely, thoroughly enjoyed the cool night air after such a hideously
hot few days in Bordeaux.Till the rain
started pouring in, and we had to close it.Luckily that didn’t last long, and by the time I woke again slightly
suffocating we’d cleared the rain and could open the window again.
Somewhere around 5:00 AM and Salamanca I gave up any effort
to sleep, and it was light enough to see the landscape a bit, on through Cuidad
Rodrigo and finally across the border into Vilar Formosa – I knew I was in
Portugal from the gorgeous tiled panels on the train station.My companion was also awake by then, and he
resumed his efforts to get me speaking Portuguese, made me repeat the names of
all the stations as we stopped, and telling me a bit about them – I remember
Santa Comba Dão, which is where Salazar is buried, in a big mausoleum.He would point out crops and tell me what
they were in portuguese, then ask me the english word.
The landscape was fascinating – from Salamanca and well into
Portugal it was pretty desolate, uninhabited rather craggy rolling hills and
scruffy undergrowth, which implies some growth over too, but there wasn’t.So many ruins of buildings and walls, I was
trying to remember my history (some of it via Georgette Heyer!) of the
Peninsular War, and wondering if the ruins dated from that time.At some point it changed and we were in a
countryside of really rich land and deep combes, there was a beautiful river
and lake, possibly dammed, not sure.There
were thick forests – some of them were eucalyptus, which we could smell – and
then agricultural land.That’s when I
saw my first vinhas – vinyards.Most were back yard affairs, vines going mad
untrimmed, often with olive trees interspersed, or with maize grown alongside.I did see one stretch of very well ordered
and trained and pruned vines on a hillside.We were passing through Guarda and Coimbra districts, so well south of
the Douro, I don’t know if this is a region known for its wine… must start
learning.
At Coimbra my companion saw me off, wished me Adeus.He was staying on the train all the way down to
Lisbon, which was his home.I told him I
was hoping to work the harvest in the Ribatejo, near Santarém (about 40 miles
northeast of Lisbon), and he approved of that – thought Santarém was a nice
city – unlike Oporto!He didn’t seem to
think much of Oporto, but then if he was a native of Lisbon he wouldn’t, I
suppose.
From Coimbra to Oporto on another train, staggered off the
train into the metro, found my hotel, and shed the pack to go for a walk
round.Found the Luis I bridge over the
Douro and got my first sight of the famous port lodges in Vila Nova de Gaia
across the river.
My first and most outstanding taste of Port was on the
occasion of getting my permanent visa to remain in England, in March 2001.
One of my friends had been a professional chef, so I asked
if he would be willing to lend his talents to creating a wine tasting dinner by
way of celebration and thank you to all my gourmand friends who had helped me
get through those first four years in England, and sparked my interest in wine.He agreed – he was thrilled to have the
opportunity to make something besides tunafish casseroles for two small boys –
and I stumbled into Berry Brothers and Rudd one Saturday morning with a rough
menu plan and ideas of what taste sensations I wanted to accompany each course,
but no clue what wines would deliver those sensations.The man who helped me for two very patient
hours that morning has remained one of my (only two) favourite wine merchants,
even after leaving BBR for Genesis Wines, and became a dear friend.
The dinner was marvellous, I found the menus and placecards
when I was clearing the house in May – and kept them.Menu from memory, wine details from a list I
have on my computer, luckily:
Killed time before dinner with champagne, as you do.Louis Roederer Brut, 1990.
Starter of roasted fennel and red pepper, with a dry
Alsatian Riesling, Cuvée Frédéric Emile, Trimbach 1995.Had the last bottle left over of this in
November 2008, with a Thanksgiving turkey and all the trimmings, and it was
stunning, still.
Fish course, I think it was bass, accompanied by a
Chassagne-Montrachet, Ruchottes, Domaine Ramonet 1997.My first taste of white burgundy, and it
stopped all of us in our tracks – there was a moment’s appreciative silence
when we all took our first sip of that one.
Main course was a pan roasted fillet of beef, and boy was it
perfect – nicely charred on the outside (never wash your cast iron fry pan) and
au point inside.To wash it down, Côte Rôtie, La Mordorée, M.
Chapoutier, 1995. Another really
successful pairing.
The dessert was my one culinary contribution – an intense
chocolate mousse. The wine remit was for
a “really in yer face ozzie shiraz red fruit bomb.”Elderton Cabernet Sauvignon – Shiraz – Merlot
1994 delivered that with a vengeance – pure red and black raspberry juice, dry with
a kick of acidity and tannins to cut through and wash down that thick dense
black chocolate mousse, better than a typical sweet dessert wine would have
done.Very successful.Subsequently I tried the 1995 with another
intense chocolate dessert, and it didn’t work so well – the 1995 was a more
complex wine with more flavours going on than just the raspberries, and it
didn’t cut the chocolate as cleanly as the 1994 had done.Fascinating.
Finally… on to the cheese course.I had laid in a half dozen different bottles
of things, which personally I never drank.Reason?One of my guests brought
a gift – a bottle of 1963 Warre Port, which he had had the prescience to buy on
release back in the sixties for tuppence.
I had never had port before.This was a revelation.I had not
drunk very much at all during the meal – a modest glass with each course – so I
had capacity, well, thought I had anyway – by the time this was opened.I was enchanted.I imbibed freely.Two memories stand out – well, one memory and
a telling photo.The memory is of waking
up the following morning with the taste of that port still clear and clean and
gorgeous in my mouth – talk about a finish!
The photo is of me, leaning longingly across the arm of a
friend who is monopolizing the cheese plate, and you can read his lips, clearly
something like “get a grip, woman!”I’m
sure I was begging for more stilton to wash down more port.Sadly, I do not have an electronic copy to
share with you, but it’s one I keep in the photo album I carry with me on all
my travels – including this adventure, it’s in my backpack even now.
To the friend who brought that bottle along:thank you from the bottom of my heart.Over the years I have often remembered that
drink, that meal, and that friend very kindly.What a gift!Not just the bottle
that night, but the love of port for ever after.
So, in homage to that evening and bottle, just a very few
hours after arrival in Oporto, I found my way out the bridge Luiz I across the
Douro and took this photo.Hopefully you
can see, dead centre, just about two lodges below that high rise on the horizon
…
