Vacqueyras

The Southern Rhone valley is a huge area of wine production with a hierarchy of regulation and naming convention that broadly equates to the quality of the product. Chateauneuf-du-Pape is it's most famous sub-division, but other sub-regions have, over the last few decades emerged as names in their own right.

You will find bottles labeled 'Cotes du Rhone', which covers almost all of the southern Rhone region, meaning that providing the grapes come from somewhere in the region the name can be used, others labeled 'Cotes du Rhone Villages' which limits the grapes to those grown in a much smaller area (about 12.5% of the bigger area) to the north and west of Chateauneuf-du-Pape, and then those from specific villages, such as Vacqueyras which was granted AOC status in 1990.

Week V (2015) Domaine de la Curniere Vacqueyras 2012. M&S £14.29

Like many of the wines produced in the southern Rhone, this Vacqueyras is loosely modeled on the Chateuaneuf-du-Pape, but the regulations stipulate that the blend of grapes used must include at least 50% Grenache. The balance is made up with Syrah and Cinsaut.

This gives us a wine with high alcohol content, as Grenache needs heat to ripen fully but then produces fruit packed with sugars that ferment to around 14.5% abv and rich ripe plum flavours that have a natural sweetness, balanced with the peppery spice that comes from the Syrah.

It is a full bodied affair and has a long,slightly warm, finish. Despite that it is reasonably easy drinking and although I can imagine it going well with a meaty dinner, it also goes well with a warm summer evening.

There's a lot to like about the Rhone valley as it falls south from Lyon, France's second largest city, through the wonderful Provence region and into the Mediterranean Sea, but it is justly famous for it food and wine. There are expensive hot spots, especially in the North, such as Cote Rotie and Hermitage for reds and Condrieu for whites, but fewer than, say, Bordeaux and Burgundy, so when looking for well made wines that offer good value for money the Rhone is an excellent place to look.

I have driven through Vacqueyras and, like its neighbouring villages, it is clear that a lot of its land is given over to the fruit of the vine and that this has been the case for a long time. There may be a theme (Grenache, Sryah, Cinsaut, Mourvedre) to the wines from all of these villages, but that recipe has stood the test of time. Can I tell you the difference between a Vacqueryas and a Gigondas? Probably not, but I would be happy with either them, or many of the others.

Uchizy

In week M (2015) I explained that, guided by my friend Gary, I have come to consider Macon Villages to be a reasonably reliable choice of region when shopping for a simple, enjoyable white wine that is something different from a New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc.

I thought it would be a good idea if this week I selected a specific Macon Villages, that is one with a village name on the bottle rather than just the more generic 'villages' which covers grapes from any of the qualifying villages, to see if there were subtle but interesting distinctions I could draw.

Week U (2015) Macon Villages Uchizy 2013. M&S £11

I appear to have painted myself into something of a corner, as the wine is very good, well made, and has a very similar profile to the more generically labelled product.

This one costs £2 more, which is still an acceptable price, but does it have enough to encourage me to pay the fare back to Uchizy?

One of the many pleasures I get from exploring the wines of the world is to stumble across interesting stories and facts associated with any of: the grapes, the locations, the winemakers, history, the weather, economics, politics, the opportunity to make weak jokes, etc. so I wondered if there was anything about the commune of Uchizy that would encourage me to buy the wine again in case a dinner guest became so dull that reciting 'interesting facts' associated with the wine might relieve the boredom. (I do appreciate that it would, most likely, only relieve the boredom for me, but under the circumstances that would be good enough.)

So here's what I found. Depending on where you find your facts, Uchizy is a small commune in the arrondissement of Macon with a population (in 2009) of 768 souls, not double counting students. This goes up and down a bit, but peaked in 2006 at 816. In 1999 there were 377 housing units, but this rose to 404 in 2007, but 36 were vacant. That's in addition to the 40 'second or occasional' homes. Makes you wonder why they were built.

One source informs me that Chardonnay, eponymous home of the grape, is 1.98km away, as the crow flies. Another source tells me it is 2.2km. The only explanation I can think of is that the wind had changed direction between the crow's first and second journeys, but I don't know whether the first was wind assisted or the second wind frustrated. Best plan on it being 2km, if you are tempted.

I also looked into 'places to visit in Uchizy', but it turns out most of them are 'somewhere else'. This probably a little harsh, as I did encounter some photographs that made the neighbourhood look very appealing. One if these was taken by A.M. Tourette, but it didn't say whether or not he's the famous one.

Right. Anyone want to come for dinner?

Tupungato

Last year my red Week M (2014) was a single varietal Malbec that I imported personally from Argentina. That may sound rather grand and imply that I had gone into the wine trade in a big way, however, sadly, that is not true. It was a single varietal and also a single bottle because that's all I could fit in my suitcase, wrapped up in two weeks' worth of dirty washing.

It was lovely, but it was also ~£20 a bottle, without UK duty. So this week I have paid half the price, including the UK duty, and selected another Malbec only this time blended with Cabernet Sauvignon, to see how close it comes to the quality of the earlier choice.

Week T (2015) Tupungato Malbec Cabernet Sauvignon, 2014. M&S £9.00

First off, Mr Marks and Mr Spencer have considerably more buying power than Mr Me and can strike a good bargain with suppliers, so that probably accounts for some of the price difference, but another significant influence on price is, I suspect, the volume produced.

The earlier wine had come straight from the cellar door, so there were no distribution costs incurred by the producer, but having toured the premises immediately before parting with my pesos I very much doubt that a bulk deal with a major UK importer aligns well with the business strategy of the family run concern that produces it.

I don't know that this week's wine is necessarily produced in high volumes, but it is bottled at Bodegas Esmeralda, one of Argentina's major exporters and I would guess they can respond well to international demand as a matter of course.

So, the wine. Rich ruby red, full of up-front blackberry fruit and supported with fine tannins and a good dollop of smooth oak. It is around 13.5% abv, which is 1% less than the earlier wine, and has a long, satisfying finish.

It is certainly a good wine of its type and if you are looking for a warm, full bodied red wine with more bite than many an easy drinking wine then you could do far worse than spend less than a tenner on this.

Would I prefer to have more bottles of the Clos de Chacras Gran Estirpe? Well, yes, I would, but that may be at least in part to the memory of having accompanied my only previous bottle on four flights with it nestling in my underwear.

Sancerre

A couple of weeks ago (Week Q (2015)) we tried a wine form the central vineyards of the Loire valley made from Sauvignon Blanc. It came from Quincy and I made a comment that it was good value compared to its famous neighbour, Sancerre.

Yet two weeks later I find myself tasting exactly that, but not for twice the price or more, as I had predicted, but for a mere £1.50 extra (although it was 'reduced' from £15.49). So let's taste it and decide whether it justifies its reduced 15% premium, or would it even stretch to the full 55%?

Week S (2015) Sancerre. Les Marennes, 2014. Waitrose £11.49.

My first impressions were that it had a very light aroma, so light I wondered if my nasal polyps were striking back, in fact. They are, but that's a different story.

It looked lovely. All bright and shiny, with gentle lemon hues. It was a nicely chilled partner for a Wimbledon evening (TV), and was sipped away while the ladies with unpronounceable names bashed away from the baseline and let fly with a variety of farmyard noises.

It was rather elegant. The Sancerre that is, not the agricultural chorus emanating from the All England Club, but had an intensity of flavour that the nose had not led me to expect. Polyps or not, there was definitely a difference. The flavours were strongly citrus, but moderated by grassy or herbal overtones.

It is quite high in acid, as a young Sauvignon Blanc should be, but like the Quincy not so in your face as the Kiwis can be.

It is made in what Waitrose seem proud to inform us is 'the appellation's only cooperative cellar', but I'm not sure what that is really intended to convey. Certainly I think this is a well made wine and I do prefer it to the Quincy, mostly because it does seem to have a slightly smoother richness about it, so perhaps knowledge of its birthplace may for some challenge the assumption that cooperative cellars necessarily produce inferior wines to those which are mis-en-bouteille au chateau, as they say.

To get back to the original question. Is it worth £1.50 more than Week Q's Quincy? Yes. Would I want to pay the 'full price'? Not really, but I might.

It has been an interesting test of my own assumptions, too, as I now no longer believe quite so clearly that famous appellations, at least this famous appellation, always expects its customers to pay more just for the name.