Garnacha Blanca

If February has ides, then these are they. Nothing to fear other than the continuation of the recent cold snap and the threat of slippery doorsteps. I forked out £8.99 on 25kg of Rock Salt on the basis that the Beast from the East was about to reappear, courtesy of Storm Darcy, but although we did have an attractive covering of snow and temperatures down to -7℃, I still have 25kg of the stuff, should you need any.

Not really white wine weather, however, according to my own rules which only I am allowed to break, this week requires a white grape and as on this occasion I have found one whose name begins with the letter of the week we will try:

Week G (2021) Jordi Miro Garnacha Blanca, 2018. M&S £9.

Garnacha Blanca, or as the French say Grenache Blanc (or the English, White Grenache) is one of Spain's less widely known varieties. There is as much of it in South West France as thee is in Eastern Spain where it can appear in Priorat and Rioja amongst other regions.

In France it also can be part of the blends of white Chateauneuf-du-Pape (yes, it can be white) and Cotes du Rhone, and also in the sweet Vin Doux Naturel of Rivesaltes in Roussillon.

It is naturally low in acidity, has a tendency to oxidise easily which can lead to off-flavours such as an undesirable Sherry-like tang, but can provide softness in blend.

This wine is a single variety wine and so the grapes used are 100% Garnacha Blanca. It has a slightly oily mouth-feel and my instant reaction was 'ho-hum'. I first tried it alongside a quite creamy turkey, ham and mushroom pie and that may not have given it the greatest opportunity to show its best face. A wine with more acidity would have cut through the texture of the sauce a given a better balance.

I came back to the second half of the bottle twice over the following two days. The third showing was its best, when it accompanied nothing more epicurean than the remnants of a sharing sized bag of honey roast peanuts and an episode of Mastermind. On that occasion I noticed the reasonably lengthy finish that had some rather appealing tropical fruit notes. It is labeled at 13.5% abv and this with the mouthfeel ruled out the possibility of it being described as light, but I wouldn't call it rich.

I suspect it would have impressed a little more had I tried it in the summer. Not a bad wine, but neither a memorable one. Would I buy it again? No, because it doesn't stand out from the crowd of £9 wines sufficiently well to make itself special.

Did I ever tell you about how I failed the second round audition for Mastermind? (Apparently, yes, in August 2015. Apologies for banging on about it.)