Errazuriz

A little over six years ago The One and I set off for a holiday in Argentina. The bonus child had been there for a post-university tour of some bits of South America and decided we would love Buenos Aires. So, being obedient older people, off we went. Our trip started and ended in the Argentinian capital as we had been directed but we did our best to see as much of that enormous country as we possibly could in two weeks. At one point, whilst based in Mendoza, we took a trip into the Andes on a road that if we had gone far enough would have taken us over a pass near the highest mountain in the Americas, Aconcagua.

Week E (2021) Errazuriz Aconcagua Costa Sauvignon Blanc 2020. £11.99 Waitrose.

Whilst the mountain itself is in Argentina it is just nine miles from the border with Chile where, on the western side of the Andes there is a series of valleys that flow down to the Pacific ocean. In terms of wine production more than a dozen of these valleys contribute to Chile's reputation for supporting a wide range of styles, frequently available in UK at very reasonable prices for the quality they offer.

Aconcagua Valley is towards the North of Chile, so it is closer to the equator than most and the climate there is warmer than that of the regions to the South. This warmth is moderated by the influence of coastal air currents that cool the valleys giving an advantageous mix of warm days and cooler nights that helps to ripen grapes to their best.

I enjoy Sauvignon Blanc and in general tend to favour the styles produced in the southern hemisphere, especially New Zealand. The famous French styles of Sauvignon Blanc are rightly respected as classic wines with names such as Sancerre and Pouilly Fume commanding a premium, but I find their more earthy profiles less engaging than the crispness of their new world challengers.

This wine falls rather nicely between the two, being less punchy than many wines from Marlborough and having some of the more complex flavours of the Loire, without leaving me with the impression that it has lost any of the qualities of either. Especially for the price.

Errazuriz have been producing wine since 1870 and have eight vineyards in the Aconcagua Valley. Aconcagua Costa is, as the name suggests, close to the Pacific coast which is only seven miles away. Here they also grow Chardonnay, Pinot Noir, Merlot and Syrah, but in other sites include a broad range of varieties.

I once attended a short seminar presented by Errazuriz at the London (International) Wine Fair and was very impressed with both their wines and their commitment to the environment which judging by the results is well founded.

Would I buy again? Yes. Ideally from the cellar door!

Dolcetto D'Alba

Being something of a big kid at heart I had been watching the well-informed local weather forecasts provided by Chiltern Weather Alerts (search on Facebook for their page if you are from these parts) in the last week because we were being promised, with increasing confidence, that we would get to enjoy some snow. The Chilterns always offer great walking opportunities but at this time of year when the trees are bare of leaves a good covering of snow makes the whole place look like Narnia.

In preparation for the long had winter we took ourselves off to King's Farm Shop who are a first rate butchers near to the World's End (no, really, look it up). Whilst spending more on a few bits and pieces than we did for the whole of our Christmas lunch I spotted this on a shelf near the pie counter:

Week D (2021) Emilio Vada Dolcetto d'Alba DOC 2018. King's Farm Shop £21.95

The young chap who was busy selling me a couple of pots of Wild Boar pate (French, naturellement) and a delicious cheese, leek and bacon quiche, advised me that if my meat bill came to more than £50 the wine would be reduced by a fiver. This was not a problem. The two fillet steaks we had already chosen got us halfway there and the Ox cheeks and short ribs finished the job nicely.

I have had mixed success with Dolcetto and just under seven years ago I chose it as the wine of Week D (2014) where I found it a had some volatile acidity that spoiled my enjoyment. I won't retype my typings any further here, but if your are inexplicably interested you can click on the link and have a butchers. (Quite pleased with that bit.)

I am happy to report that the snow arrived and our trip to Narnia was hugely enjoyable as we shared it with a couple of very good friends. This was, of course, executed with the greatest care and respect for the conditions set by our leaders to help us survive the plague. This sharpened the appetite nicely and the fillet steaks, pan-fried in garlic butter, topped with mushrooms and served with braised red cabbage and mange-tout was a treat. No potatoes again, but you can't have everything because it's not good for you. Says Nanny.

The wine was, I thought, very pleasant. The first taste was very North Italy, being relatively light-bodied and fragrant, but left me wondering if my long-forgotten experience should have been remembered at the point of purchase. Not because of any volatile acidity but because in a way that is slightly reminiscent of my recently described history with Barolo as I had been expecting something a little more richly fruity. The One didn't accept the offer of a top-up, and that suggests it didn't hit the spot for her, however, my second taste was alongside a mouthful of that beautifully cooked (you're welcome) fillet and my concerns evaporated.  The bottle outlasted the meal and so I enjoyed the rest with some charcuterie and an episode of a Swedish murder series set near the Ice Hotel where The One and I spent a very enjoyable sixth wedding anniversary. Small world.

Would I buy again? Probably not. There are styles I prefer more for the price.

Chablis

The weather has not been too kind of late and this, together with the mixed news about the current Coronavirus pandemic, where numbers of infections, hospitalisations and deaths continue to increase, but where programmes of vaccinations are gathering pace, and the more severe restrictions on recreation which are keeping golf courses closed, are making January this year pretty challenging.

There is a balance to strike between staying mentally strong and using the opportunities afforded by almost unlimited time at home to take care of tasks usually found to be uninviting, or using that time to indulge in the pleasures that are often denied through commitments to people, place and time such as eating drinking and trying to be merry.

Not wanting to turn an interest in and enjoyment of wine into a dull-minded habit, or worse, I am trying to be selective about my consumption and strike that elusive balance. This has influenced me more towards brown spirits as my evening treat, as I find a small glass of malt whisk(e)y or a drop of Armagnac is more easily taken in the singular (albeit an approximate double measure), but a nice bottle of wine once opened has an irresistible allure. 

This week's selection came in gift form as part of a complementing pair, its red partner being an Haut Cote de Beaune as yet unsampled, from a generous sibling and is a good example of a bottle that called me back until it could call no more.

Week C (2021) Domaine du Colombier, Chablis, 2018. £18.95 Winedirect.

 Made from the 100% Chardonnay, that versatile and universally popular grape variety, Chablis is famous throughout the world as a region responsible for one of the greatest dry white wines. Whilst Chardonnay can produce a wide range of flavours, with its fruit flavours becoming more tropical as the vineyards are closer to the equator from both directions, Chablis is typically described as being steely, mineral, crisp and exciting. I found that to be true with this bottle. There was a hint of apple with some warmer peach-like tones and perhaps some citrus flavours in the end, but none of the ripe pineapple type flavours or buttery feel that styles from warmer regions provide.

We opened it to accompany a meal made from the inevitable left over Christmas turkey, but most of it disappeared aperitif style later in the evening, by which I mean without food unless you count the peanuts.

The wine had been aged for 18 months before release and I think it was ready to drink. Had it been from the higher tiers of the Burgundian hierarchy, such as Premier or Grand Cru, then leaving it a little longer may have rewarded the patience, but I think this was made to be enjoyed whilst young and fresh. And indeed it was.

When I buy white Burgundy I tend to choose wines from the Macon sub-region mostly because I find them to be reliably enjoyable and also good value for money, but it is nice to have been reminded through this kind gift that pushing the boat out a little can be worthwhile, but perhaps best kept for those times when the wine will be drunk to be appreciated. Wines whose principal role will be to take the dull edge off the interminable searching through Netflix to find something more uplifting than infidelity or murder, can be selected from the less expensive shelves.

Will I buy again? This style, yes. Chablis, definitely. This particular wine only if its in front of me when I decide its time.

Beronia

I find it hard to believe that I haven't included this week's wine before now. Although I like to explore wines and find new things to try, I do have a few favoured 'go to' bottles that I buy regularly because sometimes I like to know exactly what I am getting.

So this is one of those:

Week B (2021) Beronia Rioja Reserva 2014. Waitrose £15.99  

Back in 2012 I had the pleasure to work in London with a team of five Australians, throughout the UK summer. I had worked with an Australian during an English summer once before, in the late 1970s / early 1980s, and remember her asking if it always fell on a Monday?  Ha, bloody ha.  But these ladies and gentlemen were different. When it came to the time for them to return home I asked one of them how he had enjoyed his time in London and he said 'Ah, look, it wasn't as bad as I had expected', which is unsurprising when you consider that the five of them would arrive in the office every Friday morning with a carry-on sized bag and a booking to wherever in Europe they were intending to spend the weekend. Indeed, a couple of them made it to New York on one occasion and others covered the map from Reykjavik to Warsaw and Oslo to Naples during their time 'working in London'. Have to admire their free-spirited approach to life, especially as it was all on expenses. I suppose if you live on a remote desert island, albeit a big one, the opportunity to see some culture that is more than 200 years old must be compelling. There is a little of the Mr Pot-Kettle here, as I did try to make the most of the spare time I had when it was my turn to visit. I was just not ever lucky enough to have more than a three week, rather than a five-month, trip. Usually two, and one of them included an afternoon stay in the Melbourne airport medical centre, but that's a different story.

The reason for mentioning any of this is that it was through one of these itinerants that I was introduced to this week's wine, for which I remain grateful. It was an introduction of convenience as he and his partner had been staying in an apartment close to the office throughout their stay and on the day of leaving had to leave things as they found them. As they hadn't find them stocked with drink, they had two bottles too many to drink on their last evening and so these were brought to the office and given to me and my cellmate to choose one each. I chose well. I can't remember what Mr Grumpy got.

Rioja is the famous wine from North East Spain, where they have admirable tradition of not releasing their wine to the market before they are ready to drink. The wines of Rioja are classified according to their age and the amount of time they have spent in both oak barrels and bottles. This one is a Reserva, meaning it has spent at least 12 months maturing in oak barrels and at least six months in the bottle. It also must be three years old, so it will have spent more than at least one of those minimums and probably both, aging in a combination of containers.

The wine is lush, with a fruity juiciness, a deep purple colour and flavours of that fruit together with some coconut notes from the oak and leathery tones from the aging. The tanins are there, but in just the right intensity to balance well with the fruit. 

It is made with a blend of Tempranillo (95%), Graciano (4%) and Mazuelo (1%). The minor contributors are in small quantities, but the blender must know what he's doing because the results speak for themselves.

I will buy this again. And again.

Australian Fizz

Here we go, then. Happy New Year 2021!

It was a quiet New Year's Eve. We had a game of Bridge, over the internet, and then settled down in front of the TV. I had to awaken The One just before midnight whilst Jools led us through an enjoyable, if unusual, Hootenanny but the nap had done it's work and we were able to toast the arrival of 2021 with:

Week A (2021) Bird in Hand Sparkling Pinot Noir. Waitrose £15.99

I bought this in the hope that it may be better than Prosecco but cheaper than an unnecessarily over-priced Champagne. I expected it to be drinkable which it was, but very pleased to find it to be much better by far. I have had Champagnes that were nowhere near as good as this.

Being 100% Pinot Noir and the juice obviously having had some skin contact, it has a nice, gentle pinky tinge. This is backed up by some equally pink fruit flavours like strawberry and raspberry and delivered with a delicate mousse. There is a hint of the autolytic flavours such as brioche and fresh croissant, which I really like, and a crisp but not sharp finish.

It is made in South Australia in the Adelaide Hills region, from fruit grown in vineyards planted in 1997 by Andrew Nugent on what had been a dairy farm. Given that the first three years' fruit can't be used, there must have only been twenty or so harvests from the site and it shows great skill that a wine this good has been developed in that relatively short time.

I recently found myself being quizzed about my views on wines from 'old vines' and whether they justify a special place in the wine world. Whilst I am attracted to the romantic side of wines, the stories that can be told about them and the histories to which they are attached, I am old enough myself to be a little cautious when it comes to the claims that are made because of such things. That is, if an old vine wine really tastes different, in a way that some would enjoy and others not, then I see the value. But if what comes out of the bottle is either of poor quality or is indistinguishable from younger or more familiar vines, then I am less interested. This wine is from relatively young vines, probably approaching their prime, and for the price I think it is just right. If I had paid more for a wine with more history attached it would have to have delivered a markedly more pleasurable experience to justify its selection.

I will buy more of this.

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