For the record, this is a Nebbiolo-based wine with some Vespolina added. Had much Vespolina? No? I didn’t think so… Nice label, though, and I’m pleased they claim only 12.5% as the booze-value. I purchased this with the knowledge it was well-reviewed by a journalist who likes them buxom and alcohol-tastic so that number on the label was a pleasant surprise. This wine makes me want to ask for popular views on a character of Nebbiolo wines, so if you like internet polls then jump to the end of the note and I have a button for you to click.

Boca 2006, Le Piane

This nose is delightfully pretty, charged with fresh fruit and a lovely floral character. Not overbearing, not heavy, just charmingly accessible. Sometimes in ‘traditional’ Italian regions winemakers feel they have to follow the traditional practise of extended oxidative ageing in barrels which, in my view, robs the wines of a lot of energy and vim – none of that nonsense here. No silliness with new oak, either, which I approve of in Nebbiolo. Quite complex too. The alcohol level really is moderate, not the slightest hint of a burn. It is so dainty, so graceful, so appealing in a small-scale manner – I love sniffing this. So I’ll have a taste. Crivens that is really tannic. Very, very tannic indeed. I don’t think it is too dry or hard for the fruit level, but so well-endowed with structure that the dissonance between the winsome little primary-school girl of a nose and the testosterone and steroid-soaked weight-lifter palate is quite extraordinary. The acidity is refreshing if a tad intense. There really is enough of that pretty fruit to keep one from getting worried about the ultimate harmony and it is not short on complexity and length. It’ll age well, I feel. I may be wildly wrong about this, but I feel this has similarities to the almost-extinct type of Burgundy that was made in a hilariously extracted but very low alcohol style. When young such wines seem hard, perhaps even acrid, and maybe a tad thin, but the very best of them can blossom into beautifully scented old lovelies if you can cellar them for long enough to be properly mature. I like this wine – it is an unconventional style yet has what it needs where it needs it in order to engage the enlightened drinker.

Which brings me to my poll. As mentioned, some Italian wines are made with long barrel-ageing – they have an orange-tinge to their colour, noticeable volatile acidity on the nose and are often rather dry on the palate. I’m rarely evasive so I’ll say that winemakers who do this to fine Nebbiolo grown on favoured sites (I’m generally talking about Barolo and Barbaresco here) are deranged as they are frittering away serious quality raw materials and stripping them of all their class and desirability. The contrast when making quality Barolo or Barbaresco is to minimalise the oxidative ageing and so retain more fruit and youthful vigour. The only problem one might have with ‘new style’ Nebbiolo is that with all that unoxidised tannin they can require one hell of a lot of cellar-time in order to reach full maturity. So, I’m interested to know what, dear readers, your views are on this: do you prefer new or old-style Nebbiolo?

On an entirely different note, I find the stark nature of Cotat’s labels and the colour of his bottles together with the little blob of wax on top to be a bit of a treat for the design-aware drinker. Naturally, such things matter not a tinker’s cuss if the wine is bloody awful, but at least he made the effort.

Sancerre ‘La Grande Cote’ 2004, Francois Cotat

I’m told by my chums in the Loire that sulphur is varietal character for Chenin Blanc, if so then this smells like the most intense bottle of Vouvray ever made. I’m rarely bothered by sulphur, but the epic quantity showing on this nose is more than a tad distracting. Does M. Cotat have a brother in the preservative trade or was there some tax-dodge associated with buying sulphur in 2004? There are suggestions of fruit of a quince-like character and tinges of complex minerality, but the basic character of this nose is staggeringly volcanic. So is the palate. Yikes, it is bitchingly acidic too, but that sulphur blows all else away. I’ll tell you what: now I’ve poured a couple of glasses I’ll give this wine a really vigorous shake and stick it somewhere coolish to give it a chance to breathe and blow off some of the staggering amount of sulphur its showing. I’ll come back and tell you more about it in a few hours. Who needs sleep when there are wines to be given a chance to show their best? This means I need to pull something out of the wine fridge to drink whilst I wait, so we move on to:

Puligny-Montrachet Premier Cru Pucelles 2001, Domaine Leflaive

I worry when I see white Burgundy this dark in colour. Phew, the nose seems mature but not shagged out – there is that baked apple oxidative aroma but still life and freshness to the lemon fruit. It is compellingly complex as well, with the manifest class of the vineyard shining through unimpeded by any needless farting around by the winemaker. As I am swirling it the oxidation seems less of an issue and the wonderful sophistication of a really serious Puligny Premier Cru announces itself with unabashed confidence. Good weight to the palate but it is also taut and lithe with great acidity and a brilliant expression of stoniness which lifts it to a higher plain of enjoyable experience than all but the very best Chardonnays can manage. Yeah, there is one hell of a lot of pleasure here and it be-sports itself ostentatiously so even if one were giving this scant attention, and it deserves so much more than that, you’d still be delighted. New oak, alcohol levels and such do not announce themselves as primary characters here, this is a superlatively swish bottle of Puligny that delivers all one could ask of that designation with suave, refined self-assurance. Drink up and enjoy.

So two hours down the line we return to:

Sancerre ‘La Grande Cote’ 2004, Francois Cotat

This is still far from a typical SB nose and there is clearly a tectonic plate puncturing-load of sulphur here. Perhaps there a hint of greengage fruit? No, not really, there is sulphur on the nose and sulphur with tooth-fizzing acidity on the palate. Utterly unyielding. Since I have the opportunity I’m willing to give this wine an opportunity to shine, so I’ll shake it up again and come back to it in 12 hours at lunchtime. I feel for those who purchased this in the Wine Society sale and have opened it to drink with a meal in order to experience the much-praised ability of this winemaker – popping and instantly drinking it at the moment is a taxing and pleasure-bereft experience. I’ll add to this note later. Nighty night!

OK, it is now 18 hours since popping this bottle and there has been a truly enthusiastic amount of bottle shaking going on during this period. I think I can detect a hint of mango-ish fruit, but it is dried and mind-buggeringly sulphured mangoes I’m smelling. The nose, if I am honest, is still totally impenetrable. The palate still has the lash of frightening acidity, perhaps a suggestion of stoniness and the dominating flavour of Vulcan’s forge. It is so much tighter than even the deepest diving of duck’s arses that it just cannot be judged. Which allows me to have a brilliant Elitistreview poll!

If you have more to say than just casting your vote then please feel free to leave a comment; I will address any issues that are within my technical competence.

Free Website Poll

As usual, my RSS feed readers must come to the site to vote.

If you want to have a look at some maps of the Burgundy villages to help you decide you can go to the bottom of this page where there is a good list of Burgundy maps provided by Louis Jadot.

The best Chambolle-villages from Roumier and Mugnier are truly fine wines which smash beyond the humble village quality level. Both are amazing expressions of place and beauty. Barthod is good and I’ve had slightly idiosyncratic but undoubtedly good Confuron-Cotedidot Chambolle. Dujac Fils et Pere Chambolle is one of the best purchases we make each year; a bargain for the quality. Village wines like this are easy to love, and I can totally see why half of us went for them.

In second place was Gevrey. This is probably a really good option, there is variety and class in Gevrey. I don’t drink Gevrey terribly often, but a bottle of Alain Burguet Mes Favourites 2003 I popped last night was an amazing, if moving toward large-scale, expression of confident beauty. I didn’t actually drink any because I have an appalling stomach bug, but my sniffs and tiny sips were greatly rewarding.

Morey next, which we have discussed endlessly, then Nuits with a single vote. Nuits would probably be my last choice, but I admit that is because I usually drink 1er cru Nuits and rarely village wines.

I was slightly surprised that no one voted for Vosne, but then I remembered the prices of the stuff… Remember when you could get Rene Engel Vosne for less then twenty quid at Berry’s? Wow, those were the days.

Many thanks for voting. I’ll be thinking of a Premier Cru related poll and post one in a few days.