Irouleguy

Once again the grape proved too difficult, so I went back to New Street. I had done my research and found an ideal representative for the letter I. Known as the smallest vineyard in France, or the biggest in the Northern Basque country, Irouleguy has plenty to make it interesting. It is the only AOC from the region and has a wine making history going back until at least the third century.

Week I (2013) is Domaine Arretxea, Cuvee Haitza, Irouleguy, 2008. From the New Street Wine Shop £25 (although I later found it in Amathus, Leadenhall Market for £18.35)

This domaine was founded 20 years ago and the vines that provided the fruit for this wine were planted in that first year. The Haitza blend , or 'cuvee', is made from 70%  Tannat 30% Cabernet Sauvignon.

Tannat is well known as a very tannic grape variety, giving the propensity to age well, but often being quite, ahem, 'rustic'. Not so here. This bottle came from 2008 and as it was tasted around harvest time it has had five years in which to develop and soften.

It has a deep ruby colour which comes as a result of the time the juice spends in contact with the grape skins, of three to four weeks. During this period of 'maceration' the contact between juice and skins is maximised through daily process of 'punching down the cap' on a daily basis. This means that the mass of skins that floats to the top of the fermentation vessels is pushed into the liquid to ensure the colour, and the tannins that give the wine its structure, are mixed into the juice, rather than remaining separated. 

Following this maceration, the wine is aged  for 16 months on its lees (the dead yeast cells left behind at the end of fermentation) in large barrels known as Foudre, and bottled without being clarified be either fining or filtration.

It is not a wine to be drunk on its own; it has too much body and concentration of flavour for that, but it went very well with a beef stew, topped with herb dumplings and served with creamed potato which had been seasoned with a pinch of mace.

Another interesting little snippet about Tannat, in addition to the fact that it is popular in Uruguay, is that it is the only grape variety whose name is a palindrome.

Harslevelu

Back to Hungary. That's three visits in four weeks and I didn't expect that when I started. It is partly driven by the alphabet and the difficulty of finding grape varieties or appellations that match the target letter, but it is also because there are some real interesting and good value wines made there.

Another thing I didn't expect was buying the weekly wine in M&S on three occasions in the first eight weeks.
There's a more prosaic reason for this. I had decided a short while ago which grape would represent H, but I hadn't started to research possible sources. My office, where the day job makes even the simple task of choosing and tasting one wine a week difficult to arrange, is in the middle of London. There are some very good wine shops in the area (see all the weeks not mentioning M&S - more to follow), but none of them sells pre-packed sandwiches or sports socks. I needed some socks for an annual golf day and so M&S was the obvious choice for lunch. I can't walk past a wine wall anywhere without doing what I used to tell The One was essential homework for the next exam so, having picked up a pasta salad with chicken and bacon and heading for the irritating self-service checkout, I browsed. I found:


Week H (2013), Tokaji Aszu, 5 Puttonyos, 2001.  Bottled for M&S by Hilltop Neszmely. 50cl, 11.5% abv,  £22.

Many Tokaji Aszu are made with Furmint (see week F (2013)) as the major component, but this one is 70% Harslevelu, so it wasn't just the pasta and socks combo that drove the choice.

Tokaji comes in a variety of forms and the sweet ones, such as this, are made through methods unique to the region, and the words on the label reward a little consideration.

Tokaji means the wine comes from the part of north-east Hungary around the town of Tokaj. There are 27 villages in the region producing these wines, Neszemly being this one's home.

Aszu is the name given here to what the rest of the world calls Noble Rot. The berries (individual grapes) that are affected by the Botrytis Cinerea fungus, shrivel and partial dry out on the vine. The sugars in these berries are concentrated, as the water content decreases, and then the fruit is hand-picked separately from grapes that are unaffected. The Aszu berries are then ground into a paste to be added to previously fermented juices to boost the sweetness of the final wine.

Puttonyo is a hod (or bucket) use to measure out the Aszu paste. 5 Puttonyos means this wine has had five measures of paste added. Six is the maximum, so that leads us to expect that this will be a very sweet wine.

It has a wonderfully rich feel and a lovely honeyed flavour of apricots and nuttiness. Always recommended as a match with soft blue cheeses, pate or desserts, I think it is great on it's own as a treat.

Incidentally, the golf day I mentioned earlier and which lead to me finding this week's wine, turned out to be quite expensive. The night before the event I went to the local driving range to hone my skills. With only a few balls left in the bucket I hit a rather heavy shot. The head of my five iron, unattached to the rest of the club, traveled further than the ball. The professional based at the range was kind enough to suggest a repair, but also canny enough to sell me a new set of clubs, complete with bag, and a much needed lesson.

The day itself was fun, but I scored only seven Stableford points (a player performing in line with their handicap would score 36), lost at least half a dozen balls and drove a round trip of 150 miles for the pleasure.

Pass the corkscrew, please.

Garnacha

Back into more familiar territory this week. Garnacha, as it is known in Spain, is one of the handful of grapes typically referred to as 'international varieties'. This is because they crop up all over the place and have great general appeal.

Garnacha, which the French (and almost everyone else, with the exception of the Sardinians) call Grenache, is often used in a blend to add alcohol. It needs heat to ripen, but when it gets nice and warm it producers loads of sugar and, therefore, pushes the abv up to impressive levels. Oz Clarke describes Garnacha in his truly excellent book, Grapes & Wine, as 'the wild, wild woman of wine, sex on wheels and devil take the hindmost', and that's quite a reference. When I first read that I realised what a quiet life I must have lead. So far. I would have probably have blathered on about red fruits and the like, but that's why (I imagine) Mr Clarke is invited to more dinners than I've had hot, er, oh.

Anyway, this is week G (2013) and the wine is La Garnacha Salvaje del Moncayo 2011. 13.5% abv. It is a Vino de la Tierra Ribera del Queiles from Majestic, £9.99 (£7.99 each for two bottles). Another great label.


Grown on stony soils, 810 metres above sea level, the wild bush vines are 55 years old. These little nuggets are interesting because the age of the vines means that these are not over-vigorous plants producing heavy crops of flavourless fruit, but members of the older generation taking care to direct their energies efficiently. (Old bull, young bull, if you know the story.) The altitude tempers the excesses of the summer heat and gives the grapes a chance to cool at night, leading to a gentler ripening and more interesting flavours.

The vineyard at Moncayo is in the mountainous northern end of the Ebro valley, more famous as the home of Rioja.

It is a medium bodied, fresh berry type of wine that has some interesting tobacco-leaf notes and a minerality that may, or may not, come from the stony soil.

It is a good value and enjoyable wine. Majestic suggest drinking it with barbequed red meats or spicy chorizo. We drank it with lamb's liver & bacon.

In case you were wondering, the Sardinians know it as Cannonau.

Furmint

Second week in a row, an entry from Hungary. This one is produced by the Royal Tokaji Wine Company set up by Hugh Johnson, a very real expert whose bottles I am not worthy to uncork, after the fall of communism to 'bring back to international acclaim the wines of one of history's most renowned regions'. If that's what Mr Johnson, OBE, calls Tokaj, I will not argue.

I have tasted this wine before and enjoyed it very much, so my white F selection was a lot simpler than either the white D or red E.

Having declared that I am something of a fan of sweet (some would say dessert) wines, on the 'Why Late Harvest?' page, I had planned to select a Tokaji this week, but probably a delicious 5 or 6 puttonyos version. More of that in two weeks' time, when we reach H.

This wine, week F (2013) is Royal Tokaji Furmint 2011. Bought at Laithwaites shop, Vinopolis, £10.

Furmint is a variety that buds earlier than many others, but ripens later. This gives it a long growing season and allows the development of complexity and concentration of its flavours. Citrus fruits, especially oranges and lime, but also pears and ripe apples all feature in the mix. There's some smokiness, spiciness and quite a rich feel. It is naturally high in acid and that provides it an ability to age, although some say this is more relevant to its use in sweet wines.

This one is dry and I think it makes a good alternative to, and a rest from, Sauvignon Blanc, Pinot Grigio, or any of the other safe names you may choose.

Although 88% of Furmint is Hungarian, this wine has cousins from Austria, Croatia, Romania, Slovakia and Slovenia, as it seems to like growing in countries that end in 'ia'. I haven't tasted any other producer's dry Furmint, whether Hungarian or not, and would be keen to do so. It would be interesting to find out how versatile this grape really is, especially as we will meet again shortly, when it will be the minor partner in a wine I am very much looking forward to uncorking.