Quintessence

This should be a white week but given the difficulty of finding a wine that has an association with the letter Q pale pink will have to do.

Whilst shopping in M&S for an impulsive beef burger and brioche bun combo I spotted:

Week Q (2022) Quintessence Mediterranée Rosé IGP 2920. M&S £7 

This is a Provençal style rose made from Merlot and Grenache, in a 70:30 blend, and described on the bottle as being dry.  I'm not sure I can agree with the last point as it has a definite sweetness.

It is recommended for drinking with grilled fish and salads, but I went for a cheeseburger and salad (really just coleslaw on the burger) together with a sharing sized bag of maple smoked bacon crisps.

I had had a day of shovelling a cubic metre of topsoil from the front drive (we don't have a rear drive, I'm just trying to be descriptive) to the vegetable bed that I recently rebuilt. Thirsty work, I am sure you will understand. Thirsty enough in fact that I polished off the entire contents of the bottle whilst watching something forgettable on a streaming service I can't recall.

This is a £7 bottle of wine and so my expectations were not high.  However,  it was exactly what was required. A little sweet but very drinkable. Not a match for a good dry rosé from Provence, but I can imagine this going down very well, lightly chilled, on a balmy summer evening.

It tasted of fresh raspberry and strawberry, offered nothing else and was none the worse for that.

I recently spent a morning judging wines for the People's Choice Wine Awards and the category 'Festival and Picnic drinks' included some truly awful submissions. This wine would serve that purpose very well. Unpretentious, simple and fun.

Buy again? I can't be sure, but wouldn't rule it out.

Oatley

 As you won't recall, I tend to enjoy the wines of Western Australia and especially Margaret River, that cool climate region to the south of Perth that I really must visit. Until I do I shall continue to buy my wine in all the usual places and this week I did just that, choosing:

Week O (2022) Robert Oatley Signature Series Chardonnay 2021. Majestic £9.99

This bottle was opened on the Sunday before Easter alongside a rolled shoulder of pork that had spent around seven hours on a low heat and was, if I say so myself, delicious. That little piggy (or bits of him) were shared with the youngest of the progeny and her partner who both like that sort of thing and who had to be restrained from eating all of the crackling before the vegetables had even reached the table. They both enjoy Bread & Butter Chardonnay (see Week Q (2021)) and its prominent oak flavours and on tasting this week's wine asked if that was what I had provided.

I could see why the question was asked as this wine does have a fairly obvious oak-influenced flavour profile, although to my tastes it is rather more restrained than the B&B.

Definitely a Chardonnay, and certainly not a Chablis, this is a good example of a white Burgundy style (lower end, naturally) wine that should be a crowd pleaser.

There are citrus and stone fruit flavours, like lemon and peach, blended with some buttery and creamy feel and a touch of vanilla.

For the price I think this is a good value, easy to drink, better than many white wine.

I haven't tasted any other wines made by Oatley but hope to in the future. Buy it again? yes.

Nero Oro Riserva

We were away in Crete recently, so this entry is  a catch-up as try though I did none of the local wines on that island satisfied my selection criteria. So I took a trip back to Majestic in Berkhamsted and found it has been a time of much change since my short term there before Christmas. New jobs for several of the team is great news for them, but fewer old friends for me to visit. So striking whilst the iron remained warm and in preparation for Easter and any other excuse I could muster I bought:

Week N (2022) Nero Oro Riserva 2018. Majestic £14.99

As some friends invited us round for a game of Bridge, this bottle didn't get anywhere near Easter. It was consumed on a weekday evening alongside some cheese, none of which was rubbery, and the game which was.

All three elements were enjoyable, especially the narrow 2:1 victory for the away team, and much fun was had by all.

One unexpected opportunity arose in the second half of the evening, which was to compare this Riserva version of Nero Oro with its stable mate 'Nero Oro Appassimento' that had by chance been selected by the home team should a second bottle be called upon.

Both wines were very quaffable. The appassimento is 100% Nero d'Avola but the Riserva has some Syrah blended in. The Riserva doesn't state that it has been made using the appassimento method - drying the grapes prior to fermentation to concentrate the flavours - but I suspect it had been as it was notably smoother and richer than its sister. It was also a couple of pounds more expensive which I feel is justified.

The flavour profiles were broadly similar, with the appassimento being a little thinner and more prominently acidic, where blackcurrant is supported by cherry in the appassimento and by raisins, dark plums and figs in the Riserva. Both we pleasant although there seemed to be more oak influence in the Riserva, from its 18 months spent in barrel, and a touch more warmth both of which gave it the edge.

Produced in Sicily by Stefano Chioccioli and suitable for both vegetarians and vegans (like they need special treatment when it comes to wine) I would buy this again.

Melon de Bourgogne

Back in the 1980s & 90s I lived in Kent, only 40 minutes from the Channel ports and, later, what we used to call the 'Chunnel'. Happily that moniker has fallen from the vernacular but it still provides a very convenient way of getting to France and beyond. Even post-Brexit.

In those heady days I was a regular participant in the then fashionable 'booze-cruises', returning from either Calais or Boulogne with the back of my Volvo 940 estate loaded with, er, booze.

I always liked the idea of value for money, however, in what I now think was a misguided attempt to maximise the benefits I usually shopped at the lower end of the market. I often bought Muscadet for about ten francs a bottle. Later that became about 1 euro per bottle (2002, I think) which at Today's exchange rate would be around 83p.

That Muscadet was quite sharp and not always pleasing to my friends, but it was cheap!  Hoping for somethings better we have:

Week M (2022) Champteloup Muscadet Sevre et Maine 2020. Waitrose £9.99

Muscadet comes from the far western end of the Loire valley where the river reaches its destination in the Atlantic ocean. It is a classic match for seafood, especially shellfish, and also good as an aperitif as it is very dry, has a hint of salinity and steely apple and melon fruit flavours.

The grape itself is Melon de Bourgogne and it has that name because it first grew in Burgundy, however, it was pushed out of its home by Chardonnay and its lesser cousin, Aligote. Also by decree, in the 18th century, as it was banished by the wine police as being inferior to its usurpers. Early in that century many of the vines around the western end of the Loire were destroyed by a particularly harsh winter and so Melon de Bourgogne found a new welcome and a new home.

This bottle has not disappointed. It is a very dry white wine with the characteristics promised above and it not anything like the harsh, but cheap, plonk I invested in as a bargain hunter.

It could be that the improvement is, in part, due to this wine being 'Sur Lie', which means that after fermentation has finished the wine is allowed to rest on the dead cells of the yeast responsible for converting the fruit sugars into alcohol. These dead cells are known in English as the 'lees' and they are sometimes stirred occasionally as the wine rests to assist with the development of a softer texture in the wine.

The improvement may also be a consequence of this not being a 1 euro wine. 1 eur in 2002 is now worth about 1.4 euro, so even adding the UK's punitive alcohol duty and VAT (tax on a tax) it must cost at least the equivalent of £5 in France. Maybe it is that Muscadet is now improved by a general upgrade in the region's wines, but whatever it is, I liked this one.

Buy again? Yes.

Leyda

In discussions about potential future holidays Chile often is suggested. I hope one day that we do in fact follow up on this suggestion, not just because I appreciated the wines made there but also because like its neighbour on the other side of the Andes it has an interesting geography stretching from the world's driest desert, the Atacama, in the North right down to Tierra del Fuego, which is as close to Antarctica it is possible travel without actually going there. 

This week our wine comes from San Antonio, in Valparaiso, about halfway down:

Week L (2022) Leyda Reserva Pinot Noir 2020. Ocado £9

Halfway down Chile is a cool climate wine region, in general terms, where many of the valleys run down from the Andes towards the coastal plain. The Andes provides irrigation as the snow melts from the mountains into the Maipo river, and the valley floors are made of granitic soil with good drainage.

The Humboldt current that runs up the coast from the south brings a cooling influence, often with sea fogs in the mornings that moderate the increasingly hot afternoon temperatures and together these provide an environment which gives the grapes plenty of time to mature slowly and to develop excellent flavours.

Pinot Noir can be tricky to grow but it is well-suited to the region and, in this case, it has produced a delicate, silky wine with gentle tannin and a blend of strawberry and cherry fruits and some equally gentle spices.

As I may have mentioned before, I am a fan of Pinot Noir and enjoyed this one very much. It does not pretend to be upscale and is not as rich as some examples but pound for pound I think it punches above its weight.

In terms of weight, it is labelled as having 13.5% abv although this is not immediately apparent when I tasted (drank) it.

If my opinion isn't enough for you , and there is no reason why it should be, I offered a glass of it to The One who enjoyed it and, more than that, said so. I find this encouraging as so often I have to explore alone. That's not a complaint, it's just that there is a certain amount of guilt associated with solo drinking. Ok, I'm over it.

Buy again? Yes.

Koonunga Hill

You probably know that whereas most 'quality' wines are labeled with the date of the vintage (i.e. the year in which the grapes were picked) the majority of Champagne is not. It is a non-vintage wine. This is because some proportion of what ends up in the bottle has been held back from prior years in order to enable the blender the opportunity to produce a product that is consistent, year-on-year.

There are other ways of achieving a similar result, one of which has been adopted by the makers of:

Week K (2022) Penfolds Koonunga Hill Chardonnay 2021. Tesco £9

Penfolds have been making wine in Australia since 1844 and have an extensive range on offer. At the top end there is the famous 'Grange' which will set you back a four-figure sum (in Sterling) for a bottle and it is only by chance that I was once able to sample some. It was very good, but as I have questioned before, was it that good? I'm not sure, but it was good.

What we have here is not Grange and I only mention the expensive offering to demonstrate that this Koonunga Hill Chardonnay has been made in a specific way because that is was the producer believes at least one section of the market requires.

Consistency is the name of the game. Unlike my golf where the only thing that remains consistent are my inconsistent performances. This consistency is achieved by Penfold's 'multi-region, multi-vineyard' blending policy which means they will draw on resources from a wide variety of sites in order to find fruit that will, in the hands of a skilled blender, produce something almost exactly the same in every bottle, in every vintage.

There is definitely a market for consistency. For many products consistency, by which I mean the purchaser knows exactly what they expect and then they get it, is seen as an essential quality. I have no argument with this, but it does take away some of the enjoyment of exploration.

The wine itself is pleasant. It has plenty of warm, stone fruit flavour and a strong hint of oak. I can't be certain in the reason for my assessment, as I had read about the intended consistency before I tasted it, but although pleasant it feels a little as if it has been assembled in kit form: this much fruit, this much acidity and this much oak. 

Having said that I would buy it again, perhaps for a party where I wanted to be sure what I was serving my guests.

St Julien

We had a family gathering this weekend and much fun it was, too. We gathered to celebrate the youngest adult's 30th birthday and also, but less significantly, the oldest adult's 62nd. The start of the show was, of course, the only grandchild on whom I am extremely proud. Of the seven adults present two are tee-total, one prefers a G&T to wine, two had just spent a week skiing and 'apres-skiing' and so had limited appetites which left two. One of these two isn't a fan of red wine, so I enjoyed:

Week J (2022) Chateau Moulin de la Bridane, St Julien, 2017. Tesco £20

I bought this as it was a special occasion and so I felt justified in heading towards the top end of my usual budget. (I think there may have been a Tesco Clubcard discount, but life is too short to take notice of such things; they either are applied at the annoying self-scan terminals or they are not.)

Saint Julien is an area in the Medoc sub-region of Bordeaux and can be found on the left bank of the Gironde estuary. The Medoc is where most of the famous Clarets are produced, including some of the very biggest names such as Lafite & Margaux, although they cost more than a car to buy and, therefore, I have never tasted any of them. Saint Julien has no 'first growths' (the very top of the tree, according to the 1855 classification of Bordeaux) but does have five second growths. This is not one.

That doesn't really tell us anything about the wine, just shows how once decisions made more than 160 years ago still have power, even if technology, climate and consumer tastes may have changed in the interim. 

Moulin de Briande is made from Merlot, Cabernet Sauvignon and Petit Verdot, three of the classic Bordeaux varieties, by a family that has been producing wine for approaching 300 years.

Tesco recommend drinking this alongside charcuterie, red meats and cheese. I am never sure whether Gammon is considered to be a red meat, especially one that has been marinated in full-fat Coca-Cola, but to my taste it worked well. It was smooth, flavoursome with blackcurrant, blackberry and stewed red plums leading the way and backed up with a hint of cedar and tobacco.

It was good enough that I was pleased no-one else wanted to drink it, which makes me sound either mean or greedy, perhaps both, but only because I like to share some wines with others who might enjoy them. On this occasion, not in one sitting, I did that. I shared it with me.

Buy again? yes.

Mount Impey

I spoke too soon. The Russians have invaded Ukraine and suddenly the world feels a little less settled. Things like this put unnecessary amateur wine blogs into perspective and I feel slightly foolish as I start to type this nonsense, but not doing so would have as much positive impact on the situation as all the other empty gestures that are about to become plastered all over social media, so with apologies to those whose lives are about to become much worse:

Week I (2022) Mount Impey Sauvignon Blanc 2020. Tesco £12.

It's another New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc. We had one about a month ago and that was good, so what is different about this one? 

I essence, it is quite similar to Week E (2022) but less intense. Not less enjoyable, which I thought it might be as I had found the previous wine benefitted from its citrussy intensity, but definitely more subtle.

I had found the Spy Valley wine enjoyable and moreish because of the flavorsome punch it packed and I fine this one enjoyable because it was nicely balanced. It makes me wonder whether about the extent to which personal circumstances, mood and attitude influence the impression of pleasure that is gained from any given bottle.

Those whom promote and believe in the benefits of biodynamic agriculture tend also to think that there is merit in following the biodynamic calendar to assist with the selection of wines that will taste their best on given days. This calendar is used to influence when particular tasks associated with planting and managing all manner of crops, not just grapes, to get the best results. It is based on astrology and as such should be a load of bollocks, however, I have read in creditable sources (creditable but unmemorable, it turns out, so I can't provide references) that the debate has moved on from 'does it work?' to 'how does it work?'. Could it be that may enjoyment of different styles of sauvignon blanc depend on the day on which I tasted them?

Did I enjoy the Spy Valley wine with its prominent fruit because I tasted it on a day when the moon was in one of the 'fire' constellations, making it a Fruit day? (Aires, Leo & Sagittarius.) Had it have been a Root day (moon in earth  signs: Capricorn, Taurus & Virgo) would it have left me dissatisfied? There are also Flower days and Leaf days, but you get the point. Do I care? not really. I am happy to say that these two wines are different and I enjoyed them both for different reasons.

Buy again? Maybe; probably not.

Hautes-Cotes de Beaune

There are some nasty rumblings in the news about the intentions of the Russians and a potentially disastrous conflict with Ukraine. Hopefully this is all 18th century style sabre rattling and good sense will prevail. Doesn't bear thinking about too much, but it does encourage the enjoyment of life's small pleasures whilst they are easy to come by. Here's one example:

Week H (2022) Bichot Bourgogne Hautes-Côtes de Beaune 2019. M&S £16.

Despite being a self-proclaimed fan of Pinot Noir I have to date only selected one red Burgundy as the wine of the week and I find myself wondering why that might be. I have selected Pinot Noirs from various parts of the globe but only the wine from Irancy in Week I (2015) which fell in that year's October, making it around six and a half years ago. Nearly a year ago, Week T (2021) I chose a Pinot Noir from New Zealand and at that time had a bit of an unstructured rant about the prices demanded for Burgundy, especially at the premium end, so it could easily be that I am a bit stingy (and I don't mean like a wasp. English is a tricky language).

This week I have found a reasonably priced Burgundy, some would say a cheap Burgundy, and so I thought I would give it a go.

It is labeled 'Hautes-Cotes de Beaune' and this is where it is helpful to understand just a little bit of how the French like to imply meaning in their labels rather than simply spitting it out, which would in any case be a waste. Unless you are at a posh tasting or attempting to judge 100 wines before lunch. More digression, for which I apologise. 'Hautes-Cotes de Beaune' tells us a few things. Firstly, the wine is indeed from Burgundy. Secondly, that it comes from the western slopes a little way from the core part of the Cote d'Or, the limestone ridge that forms the backbone of the entire region, between the village of Nuits-Saint-George and the town of Beaune, and is therefore a generic regional wine, rather than coming from a specific site. Those wines tend to be the more expensive examples, so that helps with the price.

It confirms that it has been made from Pinot Noir as other red grape varieties are not permitted, but it could include up to 15% of either Pinot Blanc or Pinot Gris, both of which are mutations of Pinot Noir, but it probably doesn't.

Ok, cork out, what have we got? We have a very pleasant, medium boded wine with quite a bit of charm and delicacy. There is plenty of the expected red fruit, a little spice and a gentle complexity that makes it interesting and enjoyable. It has a typical light ruby colour and a silky texture. The alcohol is not excessive, at 12.5%, and is integrated well with the predominantly redcurrant flavours. Some of its softness is likely attributable to it having spent 10 months in oak before release.

Buy again? Yes.

Garganega

We are already six weeks into 2022 and heading quickly towards a series of family celebrations of varying significance, from a 15th wedding anniversary, through an old man's birthday and on to a younger lady's 30th. You could add tomorrow's Valentine's Day, and the fondly remembered massacre, but that may be a step too far.

Meanwhile the Six Nations championship is underway and we now only need someone to beat the French and then it's anyone's game. Except Italy's. It would be nice to think that they may, one year, come second as they deserve better luck. Italy has contributed greatly to the world over the centuries (what did the Romans ever do for us?) In disciplines from science to culture, from music to wine, such as:

Week G (2022) Monte Tondo Foscarin Slavinus Soave Superiore, 2015. £14?

This is the last of the six bottles I was given in return for my semi-informed comments on the benefits of wine made from old vines. All of them came from Soave and we're all made with Garganega.

Soave comes from the Veneto region in the North-West of Italy, where Garganega is said to be at its best, and can include contributions from Trebbiano and Chardonnay, but this one is 100%. 

As with other Italian wines Soave has a few tiers of classification. Today's example is from the historical heartland of Soave and, therefore, labelled 'classico'. It also has about 1% more alcohol (at 13.5%) and so also gets to be called 'superiore'.

Compared to the five previously consumed bottles this one on first tasting had a hint of oxidation, which I don't believe would be intentional. Being six years old it could be more that tertiary flavours have developed misleading this reviewer. It certainly has a deep golden colour and nicely concentrated apricot and honey tones. There is also something flint-like in the finish.

It is very enjoyable and benefits from being given attention, as to glug this in an unthinking way would be to miss out on what it offers. 

I don't know what a bottle would cost, if it were available, but found '14' written on the bottle in the type of white ink often used in smaller wine merchant's shops and guess it must have meant pounds sterling. That seems a very fair price for a better than average white wine. 

I have read that Garganega also grows in Sicily where it is known as Grecanico Dorato, but have yet to encounter one of these. It would be interesting to know if the probably warmer climate of the southerly island would bring out any difference in character. I shall most likely never know.

Buy again? If I ever find any, yes.

Fleurie

I was reminded of a friend and former colleague as I was scanning the wine wall this week who, about 15 years ago, had a Friday night habit of celebrating the end of the working week with a pizza and a bottle of Fleurie. He was then, and is now, a keen triathlete and I find that encouraging as his habit can't have done him too much harm. If I ever consider a return to distance running I will be sure to put in a good few Friday suppers as part of my training. Meanwhile, I will raise a glass to Ricky with:

Week F (2022) Fleurie 2020. M&S £10.

It seems hard to believe now, but in 2006 I did take part in the London Marathon. I completed it, too. My training was more based on Guinness and pork scratchings and that might explain why it took me 2.5 times as long as the winner to complete the course. Fleurie and pizza next time. Probably without the marathon. Or any running at all.

So. What is this Fleurie of which I speak? It's from Beaujolais, the wine region to the south of Burgundy and to the north of The Rhone Valley, where the principal grape variety is Gamay. Fleurie itself is one of the 'Cru' villages, of which there are ten, known for producing the better regional wines on the western slopes of the Saone valley where the south-easterly aspect and good drainage provide ideal conditions.

Wines made from Gamay are usually lighter styles and have low tannin levels, so it at the other end of the spectrum from Primitivo, Malbec and other blockbuster grapes. The wines of Beaujolais also derive some of their characteristic flavours from the use of a production technique known as carbonic maceration. This involves putting hand-picked grapes into a large fermentation vessels that have been flushed with carbon dioxide, to remove oxygen, and allowing the weight of the grapes themselves to crush those lower down in the pile. As the juice is gently pressed out of the berries and it begins to ferment, more carbon dioxide is given off as a by-product of the conversion of the fruit sugars to alcohol and this further protects the juice from undesired oxidation.  

The resultant wine has light redcurrant, cranberry and floral flavours, sometimes reminiscent of bubble gum. If this last element is allowed to over develop it can lead to a wine that has a confected profile which has in the past given Beaujolais a less than glowing reputation.

My first mouthful of this wine caught me by surprise and I was concerned that there may be a little too much acidity but, once it had opened up post-decanting, I enjoyed this wine.

Buy again? One day. It's pleasant, but there are styles I enjoy more.

E Block - Spy Valley

One of the joys of getting older is observing how various organs of the body start to perform differently. Or, to put it another way, how most body parts start to fail.

No need to be alarmed as in this instance I only have eyesight in mind. I could venture elsewhere but it is Sunday and it doesn't feel appropriate. I got to the age of 58 before I accepted that I needed prescription spectacles, having previously survived by investing in petrol station style 'readers'.

Whilst shopping for a white wine for this week my attention was caught by the label of:

Week E (2022) E Block Spy Valley Sauvignon Blanc 2020. M&S £12 

I think you will be able to see what I mean if you take a look to the right. Both eyes open, no need to overdo it.

Like most people I am susceptible to the powers of clever marketing and this time, they got me. As it turns out I am quite pleased to have fallen prey to the intentions of the label designer as they led me to choose a Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand, which is a style I have something of a prejudice against. Not because I believe I dislike the style, but because in terms of wine exploration if feels like something of a cliché; an obvious choice.

This particular wine is fairly typical of that style, but once I tasted it I found myself reminded of why it is so popular. There are Sauvignon Blancs from Marlborough that underwhelm with weak flavours, low acidity and a generally dull impact and they are to be avoided. This is not one of those, as it bursts with citrus and floral tones and has enough acidity to make the palate tingle. The flavours last well in a lengthy fruity finish and it is rather moreish. 

This style makes a great aperitif, at least for the first glass, and went very well with a lemon and mustard chicken casserole.

Whilst the eyesight is diminishing and, I am told, the hearing may be following (I think that's what she said, I couldn't really hear...) I take some comfort that the senses of taste and smell seem to remain intact. Having said that I am now concerned that I have been led to that conclusion through sampling a wine that has bags of flavour. Hmmm,...watch this space.

The lesson from this week, as it has been from earlier weeks, is to avoid the prejudices and to try everything that's on offer, even if it may be overfamiliar.

Buy again? This style, yes. This wine? I have no reason why not.

Devil's Creek

We have reached the end of dry January and it hasn't been too bad for me. Mostly because I pay no heed to the very idea of it and haven't felt the need to moderate my intake. Keen as I am on wine and other alcoholic drinks, my consumption during the Christmas period was not excessive and I felt no need to deny myself pleasure anymore in January than I would at any other time of the year. The weather has been pretty grim for the last few weeks and wines like this week's choice do lift the spirit, I think.

Week D (2022) Devil's Creek Gold Reserve Pinot Noir. 2019. Majestic £17.99.

I am happy to have chosen a Pint Noir from central Otago, as I don't recall having tasted a bad one. This one fits the pattern nicely. It is a bright ruby colour, with suggestions of garnet which I expect would have become more prominent if I had left it unopened for a few years, smells of cherries and spice and tastes older than its three years since harvest. The tannin is smooth and the flavours hang around after the wine has been consigned to the lower reaches of the oesophagus. Happily the wine is much more elegant than the last sentence.

Devil's Creek takes its name from one of New Zealand's South Island rivers that triggered the gold rush in the 1860s, attracting people from all over the place to go and try their luck. Other than this providing the justification for naming the wine 'Gold Reserve' I can't find any significant connection with that precious metal. 

In fact, despite putting in slightly more than the usual amount of effort, I can't find much about Devil's Creek at all. There seems to be link with Foley Family Wines, who are based in Santa Rosa, California, and have 24 wineries on four continents which have become part of a single group over the last 25 years, but other than a few references in various places I can't find much more than that. 

Majestic appear to have the UK rights to the brand, or at least the distribution of it in these parts and that is helpful for me from a shopping perspective but not really enough to generate anything of interest for you, dear reader.

To summarise, I like the wine and I will certainly buy it again, especially as part of a mix six deal which would have saved me a fiver.

Chardonnay

Almost exactly a year ago I chose to write a few words about a bottle of Chablis that had been received as a gift. I had forgotten this until I looked back at my archive to check how many times before I had selected a Chablis. Once, it would seem. On this occasion I had already decided to justify my selection with the claim that C is for Chardonnay, rather than Chablis but as you know one is a grape and the other is a village where it is grown, so both work. Is it wrong of me to hope there may be a pattern emerging as this week's bottle was also generously provided as a Christmas gift? Either way, it is:

Week C (2022) Domaine Servin 'Les Pargues' Chablis, 2020. Laithwaites £18.49.

For those who are interested in such things you may be aware that the classification system for Chablis follows the structure applied nationally in France, as you would expect. That is, the regulations for labelling starting at the lower quality levels allow the fruit used in a wine to have been grown in a wide area. The 'Vin de France' designation simply requires the grapes to have grown on French soil. However, as the labelling becomes more specific the regulations become more demanding (or vice versa, perhaps). The next tier, IGP (indication géographique protégée) requires fruit from a specific region, Bordeaux would be an example, and the third, AOP (Appellation d'origine protégée) can get very specific indeed.

To be labelled 'Chablis' a wine must have been made with grapes grown within the boundaries of a defined area around the eponymous village. But not all Chablis is simply 'Chablis' as there are tighter restrictions still that allow some wines to use 'Premier Cru' and at the top of the tree 'Grand Cru' labels. These indicate that the grapes come not only from Chablis, but from specific vineyards. There are 40 that qualify as Premier Cru vineyards and only seven that can claim Grand Cru status.

This week's wine is labelled as Chablis but it also tells us that the grapes came from a single vineyard called 'Les Pargues'. This vineyard can be found sitting between two neighbours, Vaillons and Montmains, both of which have Premier Cru designations and with whom it shares much in the way of soil, slope, orientation and the other characteristics that grant them their status. In fact, Les Pargues itself was previously accepted as a Premier Cru vineyard and only lost its accreditation after it had been abandoned during the Great War. The Servin family, who have been making wine in this northern part of Burgundy since 1654, started to restore Les Pargues in 1950 and claim the wine they produce from it is once again worthy of recognition as coming from a better site.

Laithwaites appear to be the biggest (only?) UK distributor of Servin Les Pargue Chablis and customer reviews on their website for this wine vary widely. So, what do I think?

It has an attractive, mid-yellow colour with some green tones, smells of ripe red apples and tastes of the same with warmer, stone fruit flavours. It is rich and smooth and not at all tart. It has an enjoyable lengthy finish of peach.

Each to his own, they say, and to paraphrase Lord Flasheart, I am happy that some don't like this as it leaves all the more for us real men (and women, of course).

Buy again? I would, especially when I have drunk the rest of the Chablis I have recently hidden in the cupboard above the freezer.

Brindisi

This week's choice was made easy for me by a generous friend who, along with a small number of other friends, helped us to kick-off the New Year in a gentle and enjoyable way. Not for us the post-midnight revelries of earlier years, but the New Year's Day leftovers lunch and a game of cards. He made it easy by bringing along:

Week B (2022) Sette Muri Brindisi Reserva 2017.  ~£12.50 Various.

This is 100% Negroamaro, a grape I have enjoyed previously, and comes from the eponymous town, Brindisi, on the east coast of Puglia towards the heel of Italy. It's twelve years since we went to Puglia, but the fond memories linger. I must go down to the sea again, the lonely and sky, as they say. (Spike Milligan re-finished that poem with 'I left my vest and socks there, I wonder if they're dry?', which has stuck with me since the early 1970s when I read it in a little book titled 'The little pot boiler', kindly given to me by an Aunt.) I've done it again, Dad (Dick Emery, also 1970s), by which I mean I have digressed.

I have often commented that reading about the weekly wine: who made it, where it is made, etc., leads to at least mildly interesting places most of the time. This week I have learned that Sette Muri means 'seven walls' and refers to the paths around the walls of Brindisi's vineyards that are themselves between walls. Guess how many there are? Yup. I also learned that Brindisi is one terminus of the Appian Way, one of the earliest and most famous long Roman roads. I also read that the city of Brindisi has a name meaning 'a dear's head' because of the shape of the port, but I checked that last point with Google translate and am left with some suspicion that either a) Google translate doesn't work or b) there is some degree of folk legend influencing the bottle notes. Try it.

The Appian Way itself also warrants exploration. I have deskbound exploration in mind presently, but there's a seed of an idea there for a post-plague holiday, too. Wikipedia has an interesting page on the subject.

So, to the wine. Negroamaro still means 'bitter black' and still doesn't taste that way. It is quite deeply coloured, but more red than black, it is an easy, enjoyable glass of wine ideal for sampling alongside a plate of charcuterie, cheese and sourdough crackers, as I have recently proved. It is medium bodied, has flavours of cherries, plums and cranberries, perhaps a hint of vanilla, and doesn't feel at all heavy despite its 14% abv (labeled).

I read that the grapes were harvested in mid-October and the wine fermented for 20 days before ageing for six months in French oak. All of which has produced a wine I would happily buy again. Perhaps I should and then I could allow my generous friend to enjoy it with me.

Ascheri

Happy New Year to you all. Welcome to dry January, by which I mean welcome to this week's crisp, citrus, mineral and, most fittingly, dry white wine:

Week A (2022) Ascheri Gavi di Gavi DOCG, 2020. Tesco £13. 

It has been an enjoyable festive season, with family and friends all staying well and happy. One or two infected with a mild dose of the current plague, but generally staying out of trouble. Our bottle tree is becoming nicely populated, reflecting a good effort over the recent past, and I am looking forward to adding this one to the collection.

In support of that ambition let's get tasting. Gavi is a commune in Piemonte, North West Italy. The Cortese grapes for this particular Gavi wine were grown within the boundaries of the Gavi commune itself and therefore, this bottle is labelled 'Gavi di Gavi', whereas other Gavi wines which can be made from grapes grown in the neighbouring villages are labelled simply as 'Gavi'. As I have said before, I really love the complications and subtleties of the Italian wine world.

Ascheri have been producing wines for close to 150 years and are a respected maker of the traditional wines of the region. They have a portfolio including Barolos, Dolcettos and Barbarescos alongside white wines such as this on and others made from Moscato and Arneis.

The Gavi di Gavi is made from 100% Cortese that was harvested in mid-September, fermented for 15 days and left to rest on the lees until the following Spring to add complexity and  soften the acidity.

It tastes mostly of citrus fruits, lead by lemon and grapefruit with a touch of lime, and has a long mineral finish. These flavours develop as the fruit grows in the hot summers when the cold nights allow some respite from the heat and prevents the fruit over-ripening. The winters are cold and the vines become dormant under the snow, followed by wet springs to provide he ground water that the grapes will need later in the year.

This is a really great start to the New Year and I commend this wine to the house. Which is another way of saying that I expect to buy it again.