Egri Bikaver

This is the second week in a row that I have had to make a selection based on something other than grape variety.

I'm less disappointed this week, as Egri Bikaver stills sounds quite exotic. Previously known as 'Bull Blood of Eger', it comes from northern Hungary and has a good legend to explain the name.

The town of Eger was under attack, so the story goes, in 1552 from the army of Suleiman the Magnificent. The defending soldiers were encouraged and fortified with good food and drink, to keep them committed to the city's defence. So much so that rumours spread among the attacking Turks of bulls blood being added to their wine. How else could the locals defend so well? So well, in fact, that the siege ended with the attackers going home.

I have no idea if any of that is true, but the wine that today bears the name is certainly robust.

This particular version, week E (2013),  is 2009 Egri Bikaver, 'Bulls Blood', Bolyki (Eger). £14.95 from Vinoteca, Farringdon.


Traditionally made from the local variety, Kadarka, it must today contain at least three of the 13 permitted varieties. This one has Kekfrankos, Merlot and Blauburgunder and weighs in at 13.5% abv.

It is dark and quite full bodied. Many describe it as 'tarry' and I can see why.

I quite enjoyed the label, too. It has a familiar image of a bull showing the cuts of meat that can usually be taken from the animal, however, instead of 'Sirloin, Rump, Topside, etc', it shows the grape varieties that can make their way into the bottle.

Simple, but imaginative, given the name of the blend.

The WSET taught me the 'systematic approach to wine tasting' (SAT) and I have been good enough not to bother you too much with this so far, but I think the time has come.

The wine is clear and bright with a deep ruby colour and a narrow watery rim. This wine has legs (and she knows how to use 'em: ZZ Top, 1985). The nose is clean. Medium intensity aromas of dark cherry, black fruits, tar, vanilla and spice. On the palate the aromas appear again, with ripe, grippy tannin and surprisingly noticeable acidity. There's oak and concentrated fruit which lingers into a long finish.

All of which means I like it. 

Durkheim Riesling

I have only got four weeks into my 52 wines in 52 weeks experiment and have had to choose a wine based not on the principle grape variety, but the producer and the area of production. It needed to be white, which is what made it hard.

I did try. There's a Greek wine from Zitsa, made with Debina. There's a Sicilian varietal Damaschino, a grape which more frequently is used as a minor component of some Marsala. I have heard of the Bulgarian Dimiat, the Hungarian Dinka, Italy's Drupeggio and South Australia's Doradillo, but could I find any? No.

I had to explain to a few wine merchants that I was looking for any of the above, only to be met with suspicion. Or pity. It was hard to be sure.

Therefore, week D (2013) is Darting Estate Durkheim Michelsberg Riesling 2012.It is a QmP rated wine from Pfalz, Germany.

The first thing to notice, after the pale lemony colour, is the petillance. This is a pretentious name for the very obvious bubbles that form on the inside of the glass. Not like those of a sparkling wine, because the bubbles don't rise. They exist due to some CO2 dissolved in the wine and that gives it a spritely, prickly feel in the mouth.

The next is that it smells mostly of crisp green apples and tastes of lemon and lime.

The grapes come from the Spielberg vineyard, allegedly the village of Bad Durkheim's best, and the warm climate there helps them to reach sufficiently high levels of sugar to produce 12.5% abv. Although it is a dry wine, or Kabinett Trocken, as the Germans might say, the dryness is disguised by the citrus fruits and the typically high acidity. Bracing, in fact. I think it would make a good aperitif.

The back label recommends eating it with a Thai green chicken curry and that, by good chance, is what The One has left me to forage this evening as she went off to do something connected to a church. So I did, as I always do (ask The One), what I was told. I also drank a bit more with some hand-cooked crisps and some tangy cheddar. All good enough.

This is my second M&S purchase in four weeks. £9.95 this time and I am unlikely to buy again, simply because there are too many letters in the alphabet to taste my way through and I expect to find wines I enjoy more.

Corvina

Nearly a year ago I was given a generous gift by some friends, who happened also to be colleagues, as I moved to a new job within the same firm.

Knowing I had a keen interest in wines they kindly gave me a gift certificate to be spent in a superb wine merchant's shop near to our office. Uncorked, by name. So I had £70 gently warming my pocket and a feeling that I had to use it wisely in respect of the generosity it represented.

I toyed with various ideas: a decanter? some great stemware? one really special bottle? Four good bottles for Christmas? I couldn't decide until one late morning not long ago, when I should have been concentrating on something else, I visited the shop's website and typed 'Recioto' into the search box. One wine was returned and a case of six 50cl bottles would cost me £69.60.

I have been looking for a supply of Recioto for quite a while and have found it hard to track down, so it seemed like just the right thing.

So this week's wine C (2013) is Adalia Recioto della Valpolicella 2008. £12.95 from Uncorked.

Made in the hills 30km North West of Verona, this Valpolicella is not the light bodied, highly acidic variety that is often found in pizza and pasta chains, but something much more interesting.

Recioto is a style of wine produced from grapes (this one is 60% Corvina, 40% Rondinella) that have been picked and allowed to dry, in this case until February, before pressing and fermentation, in order to concentrate the flavours and to enhance the natural sugar content. Because of the high sugar, it reaches 14.5% abv without fortification. It is rich, dark and sweet. Cherries and ripe dark fruits, spicy and warming. It is, to be clear, lovely.

Bourboulenc

I am at the stage when little victories bring a pleasing boost to my confidence. Having left it late last week to find my A variety,  I had done my research this week to select the B. This one had to be white, so sticking to choosing by variety was going to be a challenge; there aren't many white Bs out there.

I made my first visit to a welcoming City wine shop in New Street, called the New Street Wine Shop (natch) and was greeted by a bearded Frenchman. I asked if he had La Clape. He said he did, in that charmingly proud French way that would seem so wrong if attempted by any other nationality (except, perhaps, an Italian), and nipped up his ladder to retrieve what he thought I wanted. 

'Ah, no, actually I want the white,  please', I apologetically mumbled. I am English after all.

'I ave the white,  but it is not La Clape'. He fetched the bottle. He read the label. A ha! (A.Partridge, 1995).

So, this weeks wine B (2013) is Chateau La Negly, La Brise Marine, 2012. AOP Coteaux du Languedoc, La Clape.



The producer tells me (ok, it's on the website) that it is 70% Bourboulenc, 30% Roussanne and that it spent 3 months on its lees in a tank, and 2% of it has been aged in barrels. That's 1.4cl of my particular bottle, or about one tenth of a decent glass.

The result is excellent. This one I would buy again and at £13.75 from New Street I probably will, as long as I can fit it into my weekly schedule. I may have to ask The One if we can have another party.

It has a slightly oily, rich feel and well balanced, quite intense, apple-peach flavours. Something reminds me of Chablis, which I will put down to the producers claim of  an 'exquisite mineral note on the finish'. The finish is good as it encourages my next sip (glass).

La Clape, which is a limestone outcrop on the Mediterranean seashore, is the only appellation for white wine based on Bourboulenc. I am very happy to have found it and will try some different producers in due course, but for now this will do nicely.

Aglianico

I am not particularly familiar with Aglianico. That's partly what this 52:52 thing is all about (see above). We can discover together.

I couldn't decide where to start my vinous stroll through the alphabet and I was running out of time, so I bought the first bottle I could find made from a grape beginning with A.

This happened to be during a shopping trip to replenish my mother's wardrobe in a delicate area. Not geographically delicate, as Royal Tunbridge Wells is a much more robust place than many people mistakenly believe, but in the sense that lead to wine A (2013) coming from Marks & Spencer.

It is simply labelled, 2011 Aglianico, and modestly claims to be expertly blended by Marks & Spencer. That, and the £6.49 price tag,  probably explains why this is not the dark, tannic and full bodied version of the wine that typically gets the Taurasi or del Vulture labels. Closer inspection reveals it is from Benevento, in Campania.

It's light,  refreshing and drinkable. Unspectactular but far from unpleasant. Red fruits, light tannins and not likely to cause an uncomfortable morning. If asked to guess you would most likely say cheap Italian.

Buy again?  No, but if you bring it round to a party I will happily share it with you.