As I have a extremely well-developed sense of fun and good-humour, when I see a label like this I am delighted and amused. I know anything a bit silly would be a major turn off for the more miserable type of wine lover, but bugger them! The stuff is all about good times so why not have a label that makes you smile?

I was also drawn to it because I had heard of the wine and knew it to be one of the more well-thought-of of the new-wave, light, off-dry Rieslings coming out of Australia. The great Mac Forbes is perhaps leading this trend, but others follow and, whilst they might not make quite such scintillating entities as he does, good stuff is being made. Look out for those Australian Rieslings at 11% alcohol or less, they’re often a treat and usually a bargain.

Monsters Monsters Attack! 2011, Some Young Punks

An intensely focussed and direct nose of sharp lime fruit. It’s really pure and nervy. There is some minerality there too; if I were smelling this blind I might place it as coming from a good vineyard in the Saar. It has just enough complexity to keep your higher faculties frothing, but the livid nervy energy it shows in terms of fruit is extravagantly exciting. AAAAAAARGH! THE PAIN! Yes, it is ludicrously acidic but you’ve probably gathered by now I like that, even though it makes me wince when it scalds and sears my stomach. Yeah, that’s electric nipple clamps acid action! The fruit is really pure and focussed as well, as is the minerality that it does show. There is the merest hint of residual sugar, and that keeps the harmony spot on. This is merits mega mams mirth levels. Not the finest wine in the world but, by arse, it’s a fun drink that assaults you into knowing you’re having a good time.

The back label is fun too.

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This was published on Elitistreview

Tuesdays are rarely thought of as the most lark and jape-filled days, yet this Tuesday I had a royal time quite unlike any other Tuesday in recent memory. Not only was there excellent food and wine but greater enjoyment value was provided by seeing two friends who are firmly established at a far more grown-up end of the wine trade than I could ever hope to inhabit.

Before I get on to Santa Maria, London’s best pizza establishment where I have had the most consistently stunning and ultimately gratifying examples of my life, and give a brief overview of the wines we had an irksomely limited time to taste and appreciate I think it reasonable to introduce the dramatis personae of the afternoon’s capers in more detail.

Mac Forbes is Australia’s most charming fellow. “Not much competition!” the wags amongst my esteemed readership may quip, but Mac is someone really special. ‘Special’ in a good way, I mean. Coming from a country famed for its sociable inhabitants who loathe Europeans in general and the English in particular Mac is unusual in relishing his frequent trips to the Northern hemisphere and positively unique in not endlessly whining about the weather here.

The reasons for his trips are relevant to this site: he comes to work with, learn from and, I would wager, teach an impressive amount to a select few luminaries of the European wine-making scene – all deeply in favour at Elitistreview. These experiences surely assisted in developing an aesthetic ideal and set of skills that enable him to produce the most interesting and stylish wines from Australia that I would have no hesitation ranking as obviously the country’s best. They are entities of finesse, harmony and winning attractiveness. Consequently, when I first met the man himself I was not surprised to find him supremely tuned to the correct wavelengths. Tuesday’s chat over a few glasses (after an admittedly heavy tasting engagement that morning) showed us to be in absolute agreement on innumerable topics as varied as most Australian wine-makers missing the entire point of drinks, associates of the natural wine movement tending to spout duplicitous crap (especially in their choice of name) and red trousers being top clothing for all, be they fathers or insane wine-writers.

I feel charged with age-related angst admitting that I have known Lance Foyster for nigh-on twenty years. We first met at Oxford where he was the local Master of Wine who could be relied upon to give emergency tastings when other merchants couldn’t be arsed to turn up. Moreover, his efforts in training the blind-tasting team were much valued, even though he thought we were odiously convinced of our own peerless skills. I think he wanted to take us down a peg or two when he gave my team the most fiendishly difficult blind tasting session I have ever experienced. The chance he’d demand I identify another bottle of that impossibly perplexing Soave resulted in palpable terror when we met for years afterward.

However, his shop was unusually packed with fascinating wines for this neophyte taster, so I risked the Soave peril and rolled up every so often to buy palate-improving kit and, when allowed, pick his brains. His intense passion for wine was evident and one I shared, but I soon realised he had more laudable traits rarely found in those who sell. Most of us who have worked with wine know that, with depressing frequency, we are going to have to tell appalling lies about despicable filth in order to dump the dross on a no-hoper and earn our not-terribly honest wage. Lance has never done this. I imagine it has made his career more challenging, but unless it interests him Lance will not buy, sell or even spout salesman’s platitudes about a wine. Years of application have informed his tastes, which I usually am in absolute agreement with, and that which does not stimulate them is irrelevant. Disinterest in and disconnection from the dull is, alas, uncommon in the wine trade and by sticking to his principles Lance (and his partner Isabelle Clark) have built up a business with the most captivating and consistently high-quality list I have seen in this country. Their portfolio tasting was obscenely enjoyable and these days, given the protective shields of loud shirts and lurid trousers^[1], I’m not always petrified when he asks if I want to try something blind.

Makes a change all this nice stuff about people rather than torrents of colourful abuse, eh? I rather enjoy it. The pizza and wine bits below are also positive.

I’ve now been to the Ealing pizza establishment Santa Maria quite often and I was happy to finally get Editor Daniel there – I value his sophisticated appreciation of food. Whilst they’ve been consistently superb, Tuesday lunch went beyond being top bunny fast food into that mesmeric realm where the boundaries of pleasure are expanded and conceptions of extreme enjoyment are redefined. It was cracking.

When looking at the menu Daniel commented that as he read about each pizza he wanted one. I warned him they were quite large and always left me stuffed, so we limited ourselves to three pizzas between the two of us.

Previous experience suggests it would be hard to do otherwise, but as we launched into our lunchtime trio we felt we had ordered rather well. It was certainly a great move to upgrade the mozzarella on two of them to the DOC Buffalo option, especially as the price difference was minuscule. Moving from one pizza to another continually increased our gratification and it became clear that, whilst they were all quite different, any relative quality distinctions were impossible. I’ll attempt to encapsulate the character of each one.

The Pizza Carmela came with cooked, chopped ham and grated Parmesan as additions to the usual toppings. At first glance the ham didn’t look so interesting, it wouldn’t have looked out of place on the most drearily banal of takeaway pizzas. Yet it had an intensity that did it for me in lewd style. Rich, complex and gorgeous piggy flavours filled my mouth and just kept on lingering; ham from the top shelf kept hidden by an opaque wrapper to minimise it arousing sensual passions. I love Parmesan and the quality of cheese used for this was transparently obvious. This looked like a pretty standard pizza, it was lubriciously enjoyable.

Next to hit the table was a Calzone San Salvatore, a folded pizza with more of that cooked ham and also Neapolitan salami along with a mixture of mozzarella, ricotta and Parmesan cheeses inside it. It looked very thin as far as my previous experiences of calzones went, not a stuffed pouch. However, the ratio of filling to crust was just right and the fillings themselves were in absolute harmony, complementing each other in satisfying style. I have waxed lyrical in the past about the marvels of La Porchetta’s calzone, it seems a pale, weak construction having consumed half of this wonder.

Number three, the Giuseppe, undoubtedly left me gob-smacked. Its toppings were Neapolitan sausage, Buffalo mozzarella, chilli flakes and something I never thought I would order, wild broccoli known as friarielli. If you are a charitable type and willing to endure a degree of revulsion you probably view green things with distrust. An active aversion to the horror broccoli is a measured and sensible view. The friarielli served to us was completely removed from such vileness – it is the only broccoli I’ve eaten that I have actually eaten. This disconcertingly pleasant flavour was a delicious match with brilliantly meaty sausage and enlivened by the chilli. What a pizza! Far better than its description and immeasurably beyond anything my imagination suggested.

The restaurant is rightly proud of their carefully chosen ingedients, ostentatiously displayed on their website homepage, and also their wood-fired pizza oven. These, along with skill in preparation and a manifest desire to excel, make Santa Maria a champion destination for enlightened diners who know that fast food can deliver extremes of gustatory pleasure.

Finally, the wines. Much to my chagrin I’ve be obliged to move my UK stash of wine to a temporary location that I have suddenly been unable to access. I am intensely pained that almost nothing accessible is drinkable. The horror. The best I had for Mac and Lance to try were two Domaine Arlaud 2007s that should have been rather good: a Morey-Saint-Denis Premier Cru Millandes and Chambolle-Musigny Premier Cru Chatelots. When I popped the Chambolle and sniffed I was appalled; somehow it had been exposed to heat and been totally ruined. I could only apologise and pop the Morey with my fingers crossed. It was a delicious wine that really pulsed with the wonderful fruit and complex earthiness of Morey. Charged with sophistication it was very close to reaching its peak of drinkability. During the 45 minutes available before appointments called us to different ends of London it opened up, gained complexity and became really rather lovely. I swiped what remained of the bottle and it peaked at 4am on Wednesday morning and maintained that quality until I necked the final glasses at 2am Thursday morning. It was suffused with the excellence of the village and was a lambent 2007; Cyprien Arlaud always delivers in style.

I was very happy to try Mac’s range of 2010s and quite impressed by the jump in complexity they showed compared to his 2008s; they’ll get even better as the vineyards mature. I consider myself a seasoned expert on the Yarra Arneis having tried it with uncommon regularity, which is to say a total of four times. Mac’s 2010 was a taut, minimalist wine of precise fruit and direct acidity. The general fruit character? Difficult… Let’s say something between approximately ripe Riesling and less fortunate Muscat. Sounds nasty, and perhaps it nearly is, but Australian wines are never this refreshing or suitable for oysters and general fish-themed food. It definitely had value.

The other white we tried was the 2010 Woori Yallock Chardonnay. It was the most restrained, elegant and stunningly complex Australian Chardonnay I’ve tasted. Needless to say, duty required me to craftily swipe an extra slug of whilst people were distracted. Not many from there are 12%. This is because the grapes were not overblown with sugar (and devoid of acid) when harvested but had an average level of ripeness about spot on to craft a light, enjoyable drink. However, within the the plot of vines there was great variation around this average in the maturity of fruit, giving the final wine its pleasing, intricate array of flavours. As a result, you could drink this thrilling little number all day and never get bored.

When I first poured each of Mac’s Pinots and noted the colours I almost wondered what an Australian wine-maker would make of them. Of course, the one present was pleased as chips with them as he knows depth of flavour and depth of colour have little correlation. Insisting your wines be inky purple is a weird perversion.

The Yarra Valley Pinot Noir, made from a blend of grapes grown in two locations, may have been a small-scale wine of moderate alcohol content but its attractive fruit was amazingly pretty and deliciously enjoyable on both the nose and palate. Coupled with this, its bright acidity and lively tannins made it an energetic and refreshing drink of quite light body. It certainly would never leave you feeling tired and generally shagged out after a few glasses, a trait which results in wines as horrific as the loathsome Mollydooker.

His Gruyere Pinot was the very first of Mac’s wines I tried. Back then I loved its compact style and elegant fruit. Whilst retaining these desirable attributes, the 2010 had slightly riper fruit aromas, a touch more fat to its body and more complexity when sniffing and tasting. A corking drink that delivered wizard enjoyment.

When trying the complete range of Mac’s single-vineyard Pinots it is the Yarra Glen which most excites me: his 2010 is the best yet. It is the youngest vineyard he farms so its complex profile is perhaps a touch surprsing. Its taut, focussed fruit displays plenty of intricate detail with a direct and pure stoniness enhancing its sophistication. Great acidity and a lithe structure keep it highly drinkable and the intensity of flavour really shows it to be a shining star of coruscating quality. It is Australia’s best Pinot, oh yes.

Quite a Tuesday, I am sure you’ll agree. These are three first-class recommendations. Firstly, Mac Forbes stellar 2010s are all worthy of fun token expenditure and will generate a new enthusiasm for the best from Australia. Secondly, Clark Foyster Wines whose rejection of the mundane and commitment to quality led them to Mac and an array of other topping producers. Finally, don’t clean Lance out of wine as you’ll need a few notes to visit Ealing and writhe with pleasure when eating Santa Maria’s sublime pizzas. Producer, purveyor and pizzeria are all at the very top of their classes.

Oh yes, whilst Ealing is largely quite nice and civilised, a couple of shops near Lance’s pad seemed a tad out of place. One called ‘CP Loft’ featured a spanking horse in its window, I felt the other, ‘Strip Training’, was more my kind of place.

Contact details:

Clark Foyster Wines, 15 South Ealing Road, London W5 4QT. +44 (0) 208 8327470

Santa Maria Pizzeria, 15 St. Mary’s Road, London W5 5RA. +44 (0) 208 5791462

1. ^[1] Red trousers are almost required uniform for the London wine trade. In all honesty, I find such efforts to be a tad inadequate. This is because I have a pair of livid pink cords with ducks embroidered on. These are trousers at the bleeding edge of stunning leg-attire and clearly signal my unswerving dedication to wine. I admit they provoke largely incoherent threats of violence from horrible, horrible Woolwich’s hard of thinking majority, but such fellows rarely come around to dinner. Those who do correctly recognise them as trousers of the gods! ↩

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This was published on Elitistreview

The Elitistreview team met up with top London wine-merchants Lance Foyster and Isabelle Clark for lunch today (Franco Manca pizzas are good, but we thought the service in their Chiswick branch was woeful). Lance and Isabelle issued us with the wine they had been showing in the morning for us to sample this afternoon; we used one of these as a launch-pad for an enlightening compare and contrast session.

The Australian Pinot had been open since morning and dragged around London for a lot of the day, so we thought if we opened a Burgundy of similar age it would need serious decanting – hyper-decanting, indeed. Read on to see a video of hyper-decanting in action.

Pinot Noir ‘Woori Yallock’ 2008, Mac Forbes

This is a bright, vibrant, pale garnet colour that a grown-up Burgundy producer like de Montille would be proud of – it’ll scare off all those ‘15 points for colour’ weirdos. The aroma profile also seems like a good de Montille, or at least a classy Cote de Beaune producer’s wine: there is a lot of bright red berry fruit that is highly attractive intertwined with a good mineral tang. I admit this might not be the nec ultra plus of complex Pinot noses but is clearly up there with a serious village-level wine from someone worthy of seeking out. The palate also has post-pubescent village-level style: lovely fresh fruit, lively tannins and energetic acidity. Pretty long, too. There is a lot here to enjoy, which pleases me no end as I have met Mr Forbes and he is a lovely fellow. I like buying wine from lovely fellows.

So the narrative goes that at this point I am telling The Editor that the Mac Forbes is well up with serious village wine from a good producer. He asks if I can prove it and so I have just scoured my database to see if I have any decent Volnay or Beaune in stock. I don’t, alas, but suggest a Premier Cru from a less favoured village: Editor Daniel agrees with my suggestion and I tip the wine into the blender for a 15 second whizz. This slightly unnerving operation is termed hyper-decanting. Having allowed it to breathe with violent intensity we taste wine number 2.

Auxey-Duresses Premier Cru 2008, Comte Armand

OK, it is darker, but that doesn’t mean a tinker’s cuss. By arse the nose is highly expressive and enjoyable for a minor appellation wine. There is a brooding intensity here that adds dimension to its ravishingly fruity profile. The fruit is certainly winning, but its grown-up mineral complexity is wizard stuff. It is doing it for me in my nasal cavities. The palate has rigorous tannins, thrilling acidity and plenty of fruit charged with distinctly lewd enjoyment-value. It is quite long and rather complex as well, the mineral character really persisting with that lovely, lovely fruit deliciousness. Hyper-decanting did the business of opening this up for us to dive in and enjoy and it clearly has many years to develop and improve should you lack a blender. This is a not just a minor wine, I’m taken with it – definitely the newt’s knackers. Good job Benjamin Leroux, the winemaker, is also a lovely chap otherwise I’d feel awful about buying more of this than I did of the Woori Yallock.

These wines cost pretty much the same amount, and both delivered many mirth-fuelled chortles of jolly pleasure. However, I’m terribly sorry to say this Mr F., but M. L’s wine is just better. Mac’s maybe a hedonistic laugh-fest, but Benjamin delivers these goods as well as more complexity, age-worthiness and intellectual thrills. I wouldn’t throw either of them out of bed, though, not if I was thirsty anyway…

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Regular readers may recall that in my write-up of the Clark Foyster portfolio tasting I roundly abused their Meursault producer Domaine Latour Giraud. Lance Foyster clearly took this criticism seriously as earlier today I was invited to their offices to re-taste the wines in the context of others from the village. We tasted the wines blind and when it came to discuss them we found ourselves drawing worrying conclusions about white Burgundy in general.

White Burgundy has been going through a bit of a crisis in recent years – many bottles have become oxidised with alarming rapidity. I shall save the probable reason behind this for an upcoming post, but the alacrity with which wines commanding top-dollar have collapsed into oxidative crapulence has resulted in widespread disaffection.

A poll on the excellent Wine Berserkers site, which I admit is not a scientific study, at least suggests this problem is changing buying habits. Oxidation was an issue I noted on the Latour Giraud wines at the tasting, I hoped when re-tasting I would find my initial impressions mistaken and see signs that winemakers are addressing this issue.

We tasted eight wines in two flights, four 2007s followed by 2006s. We then tasted a couple of different Chardonnays for general enlightenment purposes. After my notes on these ten wines I’ll attempt to capsulize our discussion and general view of the whole tasting experience. All the wines were tasted blind with only the knowledge that Latour Giraud would feature in each flight.

When it comes to assessing wines, blind tasting is perhaps the equivalent of the swimwear section in a beauty pageant; your appraisal is stripped right down to the un-attired experience of tasting removed of any preconceptions. It is just what you think of the stuff in your glass.

The potential of such raw analysis can disquiet – you may find flaws in wines from favourite producers or differ significantly in your assessments from those of your tasting companions. The key is to remember that, such is the evanescent nature of taste and individual variance in preferences and sensory faculties, there are no real right or wrong answers. Be confident in what your palate reports and try to articulate that plainly. Never worry about looking like an arse; no one is immune so there are no chastisements and it only increases the mirthfulness of what should always be a jolly event.

Finally, here are the notes:

Meursault Premier Cru Genevrieres 2007, Domaine Ballot Millot

The nose seems quite fresh and correct, apart from a suspicion of dirtiness I feel lurking. It is only a suggestion, but I’m sure it is there. Beyond that there is little of note about this nose, it is an unremarkable white Burgundy. The same goes for the palate: some weight, acceptable acidity, an approximation of minerality, but this is really pretty uninspiring stuff. I’d like a bit more dimension and certainly more energy from a 2007. Colour me unimpressed.

Meursault ‘Cuvee Charles Maxime’ 2007, Domaine Latour Giraud

There is a notable degree of refined class to this nose. It may not be the most complex expression of Meursault I’ve ever stuck my nose into, this is a village wine, albeit a very well made one, rather than a premier cru, but there is character here worthy of proper enjoyment. I like the minerality it displays very much and the lively energy suffusing it is quite engaging. That vivacity continues on the palate, there is a racy interplay between acidity and fresh, ripe lemon fruit. This has the texture of a compelling bottle of Meursault compared to the anodyne dreariness of wine number one. The finish is pretty impressive for a village wine too, those satisfying flavours certainly persist. This is a good wine, all right.

Meursault ‘Les Vireuils’ 2007, Devevey

This is clearly oxidised and beyond resuscitation. It is also not entirely clean. Faulty, I am irked.

Meursault Premier Cru Boucheres 2007, Domaine Latour Giraud

Cripes, the class of this wine is immediately apparent. There is a beguiling creamy minerality, some buttery weight and plenty of highly attractive fruit present on this nose. Proper complexity from a markedly post-pubescent vineyard, I rather fancy. This is what we hope to find when diving into a white Burgundy experience. I think the density on the palate is highly commendable balanced with a foil of cutting acidity and a rather sophisticated mineral tang. There is the buttery, nutty, vanilla character that decent Meursault should display, and those flavours just last and last. Yeah, stylish, quality kit that is neither oxidised nor dirty. Bravo!

Meursault Premier Cru Charmes ‘Les Charmes Dessus’ 2006, Michel Bouzereau

Corked! Curses!

Meursault 2006, Jean-Philippe Fichet

The nose has some scale to it, this is a biggie with a good depth of fat, lemony character to it. There is not much in the way of complexity, alas, it is a corpulent wine of obvious but undemanding charms. Not necessarily anything wrong with that, of course, we cannot drink exigent wines all the time. I rather like the fat and weight that show on the palate, pretty fruity too with enough acidity. It isn’t asking too much of me but it is attractive in its slightly dumpy manner. It’ll do. Isn’t that label dreadful?

Meursault Premier Cru Genevrieres 2006, Domaine Latour Giraud

Hellishly oaky with a powerful match-stick sulphurous character. This is just too much like sucking a plank that has been seasoned adjacent to an active volcano and I find it decidedly unattractive.

Meursault 2006, Domaine Latour Giraud

Very oxidised. Totally knackered and generally shagged out. Horrible.

Yarra Valley Chardonnay 2008, Mac Forbes

Bright, fresh, primary fruit on the nose – when life hands you a lemon that smells as delightful as this you gratefully accept it. There is real life and energy here even if it doesn’t exactly throb with dimension. There is a bit of nuttiness, though, which I rather like. The palate is linear and direct, themed on more of that comely lemon fruit and a star-bright backbone of acidity. The flavours are solidly persistent, but are somewhat on the simple side. It is a fun, refreshing little Chardonnay.

Meursault Premier Cru Genevrieres 2003, Domaine Latour Giraud

This nose is beyond plump, morbidly obese would be a charitable descriptor, and it is far too advanced in terms of oxidation to give any pleasure. That corpulence makes for a degree of interest on the palate, but this is basically too oxidised for me. No, really, seriously no, please take it away.

So what were our considered opinions? Certainly 2007 seemed a more winning vintage at least for Latour Giraud. I admit the question lurks in my fevered mind about how they’ll taste in a year’s time. I really hope for Lance and his team that Latour Giraud have improved their wine-making techniques and got the oxidation issue under control. It is about time they did.

Lance made a throwaway comment whilst we were in the midst of tasting that pretty much encapsulated the whole experience for me. He said, “This isn’t much fun, is it?” That strikes me as a pretty damning inculpation of what should have been a mirth-suffused exercise.

Admittedly, none of these producers are personal favourites of mine, but even village level Meursault is far from a modestly-priced wine. For the prices commanded by these wines, Rieslings of coruscating brilliance would be easy to acquire. Yet these Meursaults were all too often dull or faulty, rarely displaying the class, sophistication or sense of place that should be a basic requirement for wines with these price-tickets stuck to them.

When we were finishing the tasting Lance said he had learned that he didn’t like white Burgundy. I think he is wrong, there are some truly fine examples out there. However, it is evident this exercise painted a pretty damning picture of the general character of these wines. Clearly some rely simply on their prestigious name to sell wine without bothering to make wines worthy of those appellations. Such utterly reprehensible behaviour should be punished in the marketplace until it becomes obvious to even the most egregious producer that standards must be improved.

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I have been rather taken with those 2009 Beaujolais I’ve tasted so expected good things from this Fleurie, which comes from my favourite climat in the Cru. For those of a classical bent this was definitely in the ‘priestess of Aphrodite at Sestos’-idiom, which is to say it was a hero^[1].

Mac Forbes Pinot continues to enthuse me but the Coudoulet, gosh, that is a Cote-du-Rhone definitely made for the lover of properly constructed, seriously grown-up wines.

Fleurie la Roilette Vieilles Vignes 2009, Domaine Metrat & Fils

Cripes! This is charged with powerful, vivacious fruit aromas which are so intensely florid it requires acutely analytical sniffing to become aware of its slightly high alcohol level. This is not a light and fruity Beaujolais, it has definite old vines depth showing and, wow I’m surprised by the presence of this, sophisticated earthy richness. There is well-stacked charm to this nose but the fulsome character does not detract from its indubitable complexity and style. If I may be an asperser, it is let down, albeit very slightly, by that hint of an alcohol burn. The fruit is gorgeously lavish on the palate, totally tumescent with ambrosial allure. Not lacking in harmony, though, with its almost robust tannic composition and pleasing acid streak. I also approve of its earthiness. Fleurie is supposed to be easy drinking in an attractively fruity model but this is several rungs above that with its definite complexity and depth of personality. Hell’s bells, it might even be worth sticking in the cellar for up to five or six years, high praise indeed for a Fleurie. This is top totty Bojo and such good value for the minimal number of fun tokens it cost.

Pinot Noir Coldstream 2008, Mac Forbes

Also a giving, fruit-driven nose to this wine, but it is a far more of a small-scale entity of sculpted, intricate beauty. Maybe less overt but its complexity and outright class are apodictic – this delivers all the alluring, tantalizing goods one wants from Pinot at this price-point. The palate is a joyful expression of understated harmony. Nothing is done to excess – even though it is very fruity and distinctly mineral these characters do not over-whelm and the whole drinking experience is one of refreshing, quaffable delectation. Its tannins are svelte but pronounced^[2] and with a finely-honed, distinctly lively acid thrill running right through it. I really go for its minimalist alcohol-level. There is just so much delight to this wine, whether you want to analyse it as a specific expression of a vineyard or just wallow in its pulchritudinous charm you will not feel the slightest bit disappointed. I’ll be drinking mine up over the next few years.

Cotes-du-Rhone ‘Coudoulet de Beaucastel’ 2005, Chateau de Beaucastel

This is a wine that is not ashamed of its origins despite the long shadow its older-sibling casts. It may only be Cotes-du-Rhone but it has had attention lavished upon it in the vineyard and winery. Its high Mourvedre composition is clear from its distinct arsehole aroma and there is a sophisticated edge to its Grenache fleshiness. A complex, stylish nose that, like the Fleurie, only fails because of its slight alcoholic warmth (I’ll admit to being as picky sod about this). Those tannins on the palate are quite confident, this is a structured Cotes-du-Rhone all right, but such is the depth of fruit and its very powerful earthy character I’m not finding them unbalanced. There is a good dose of acidity here as well, which is to be strongly approved of in a warm-vintage Southern-Rhone wine. Good persistence of flavour, too. Yeah, this is an artfully constructed wine, but such are its qualities I will be happy to buy the odd bottle of this, especially now I think the senior Beaucastel wine goes for more than I am willing to pay for a Chateauneuf-du-Papes. This Coudoulet has at least five more years of cellaring potential in it and I think its ageing profile will be deeply accessible.

Am I allowed a personal aside? This is my website so I suppose I am. For those who don’t know, I have paranoid schizophrenia. I’ve been winning the battle against it in recent times, which requires constant cognitive application, but for some reason it has been quite a lot harder to stay on top over the past few days. Being able to relax with some enjoyable wines has provided a welcome distraction and acted as a general mood-enhancer. So should any medical type have a go at me for drinking and try to suggest wine is bad for me I can sincerely answer that it is good for me and I know this because I have tried it.

1. ^[1] Feel free to correct my dusty knowledge of Greek mythology if I’ve got the wrong ‘Hero’ ↩
2. ^[2] Say after me, “TANNIN!“. There, that is very pronounced tannin. ↩

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This was published on Elitistreview