Cortese

I like Italian wines. I like how complicated they all are and that there is so much to investigate and forget. And learn again.

I may have mentioned, and you will not have read, that we are off to Bra later this year for the bi-annual Cheese Festival, (The One can hardly wait) and I fully expect to learn and forget a lot about cheese before, during and after the festival, but I am certainly looking forward to visiting Piedmont as it is the home of some great wine villages and regions, including, among many, Barolo, Barbarseco, and Gavi. And the last of these is where we find:

Week C (2019) La Monetta Gavi di Gavi, 2014. Waitrose £12.79.

Piedmont, for those without an atlas and having no intention to use Google any more than is completely necessary, is in the North-West of Italy and its name translates roughly to 'the foot of the mountain' giving us a clue that we are in a hilly region. Grapes like hills as they assist with soil drainage and allow the fruit to get good exposure to the sun. Gavi itself is in the South of Piedmont in the province of Alessandria and South-East of Turin, so perhaps not the hilliest of hilly bits but we will find out.

The fruit in this case is 100% Cortese, a grape known for retaining good levels of acidity, even in the hot summers enjoyed in its homeland. It smells citrussy, being a bit more lime than lemon and has some other sharp fruit flavours. I am told greengages taste a bit like this, but I wouldn't know.

It has a medium body and this matches the fruity acidity rather well, in my uninvited opinion.

A couple of years ago I bought a few bottles of this as the white option alongside the Cotes du Rhone red to be drunk at a dinner in honour of a good friend's significant birthday. I think it was well received by those who preferred the paler plonk and no-one complained. At least, not about the wine. Not many complained even about the enforced poetry writing I inflicted on the assembled company. I did this because I had been invited to conduct a tasting as part of the festivities and had been concerned that those present may not be enthused by listening to a self-confessed wine bore banging on about tannin, balance, malolactic whatevers, etc.,  and I had recently read and enjoyed an excellent book by Michael J. Gelb entitled 'Wine Drinking for Inspired Thinking', from which I stole the idea of a new symposium. Have a look.

Bekaa

This one was a gift from some generous colleagues when I moved on from having a proper job. I was accompanied by two more, which at this point remain in the 'cellar' (cupboard).

If you mention Lebanese wine to many people they often respond with something close to 'oh, Chateau Musar?' as they are one of the better known an more prominent producers from the region. With good reason, too.

But, no. This week we will drink:

Week B (2019) Domaine des Tourelles, 2014. ~£15 (but it was a gift.....)

My research tells me that this wine was previously made from 100% Cinsault, a grape from the South of France that has had a less than glowing reputation in the past but has more recently been increasing in popularity. It was known as producing high yields of poor quality fruit which would be the major source of juice for bulk wines and some for blending.

In this bottle, the producer has not relied entirely on Cinsault and, in fact, has used only 15% of it alongside Cabernet Sauvignon and Syrah, at 40% each, and a 5% splash of Carignan.

All of these grapes have a French heritage, as does most modern viticulture in the Bekaa Valley, which is not to say that without the French there would be no Lebanese wine. Wine has been produced here for around 7,000 years and that is pretty much as long as it has been produced anywhere and much longer than anyone has been using the term French.

The Domaine itself has been producing wine for 150 years, having been established by a Frenchman named Francois-Eugene Brun in 1868, and that makes it one of Lebanon's oldest. The last of the Brun's passed away in 2003 but the winery was taken on by two Lebanese families of Issa and Issa el-Khoury who have brought update practices to bear.

So, what's it like? It is a deep ruby colour, smells of black fruit and Morello cherries and tastes much the same with a hint of spice. It feels medium plus body and has quite an alcoholic punch, being labelled at 14% abv. There are noticeable tannins, balanced nicely with acidity and the all-round experience is very pleasing.

As with Week Z (2019), two weeks ago, this has been fermented and aged in concrete vats, suggesting that modern, trendy(?) methods are as at home in the Levant as they are in Argentina. I still can't say with confidence that I can taste any evidence of that technique, but I do like the result and am grateful for the kind gift.

Assyrtiko

Welcome to lap six of the alphabet of exploration. There was a time when I didn't think we would get this far, but it helped taking a three year breather.

Delighted to have found this week's wine as it has had the effect that I had hoped all of them would have, which is that it has encouraged me to investigate not only its major grape, but also two others of which I had never heard or even read.

Week A (2019) Atlantis Assyrtiko, Santorini, 2017. M&S £12.

Santorini features on our long list of places still to be visited and, therefore, this is not a wine that carries happy memories of warm summer evenings overlooking the Aegean. Perhaps one day. Last year we did enjoy some lovely warm evenings overlooking the Ionian sea and drinking a variety of local wines some of which may have travelled well to be enjoyed again at home and others that didn't even travel very well from the supermarket to the villa, which was all of seven kilometers. But that is the fun of wine exploration, even if my holiday companions didn't see it that way.

This has travelled well, it seems. Assyrtiko is the famous grape from Santorini and is known for producing 'steely, mineral wines' (just google any review and those words will appear) and I have encountered this before. In this bottle it accounts for 90% of the contents and, under EU rules which will apply for a minimum of 23 more days, that qualifies the wine to be labeled as a single varietal wine, but the producers provide the names of the other two contributors who share the remaining 10% equally.

Delightfully, both of these additional blending partners have names beginning with A and, added to the wine's brand name, that gives us five A's in one wine. Very pleasing. The first additional A is Athiri, described in the excellent Wine Grapes book as being easy to grow and producing fresh, fruity, lemony, crowd-pleasing wines with soft acidity and moderate alcohol. The second is Aidani, described as being thick-skinned, lower in acidity and alcohol that Assyrtiko and adding floral qualities to a blend. Neither of them is often the star of the show and both are more frequently found, as here, blended with Assyrtiko.

I like Sauvignon Blanc and sometimes there are examples that underline why that grape has become such an international success, but I also like to find wines that are, perhaps, less well known and can provide a good challenge to the reigning champions. This does that, as it has all of the bright acidity of a Sauvignon but also provides the complexity that comes from the floral and mineral flavours for which the credit, apparently, goes to the minor players in this Greek delight.