Davy’s note:- This is the first of Elitistreview’s articles by new contributors; in this case Ricard Giner-Sariola. These date back from a lunch earlier in the year, at which Ricard cooked a fantastic piece of roast lamb. I have been wanting to publish these notes for a while, because Ricard wrote excellent notes including one on a brilliant example of what is probably my favourite (let us not forget relativism is absolutely false) Côte-Rôtie lieu-dit. It is the idea that I publish these notes that resulted in me asking a few friends to occasionally write for my organ to assure its future.
Take it away, Ricard!
Krettnacher Euchariusberg Riesling Kabinett Alte Reben “Gisela” #8 2023, Hofgut Falkenstein
Very pale, practically colourless. Impressively expressive at first sniff, with a compelling tension between citric notes – more lime than lemon – and tropical lushness – perhaps hints of passion fruit and clearly (to me at least) coconut milk. Searing, singing acidity. The precision here is a defining feature of this vibrant Kabinett. It is like the sudden, perfectly timed and pitched ping of the triangle in an orchestral concert. A wine of pure joy, and at 7% ABV, immensely versatile. I have always argued – to the dismay and concern of some – that versatility is inversely proportional to complexity. This wine sits in a magical sweet spot between the two – the overlap of this peculiarly problematic Venn diagram. Either way, it is lovely.
Davy, Lizzy and The Editor enjoying Falkenstein before lunch
Riesling Grand Cru Sommerberg E 2015, Albert Boxler
This jewel is perilously close to what I call a “killer wine”. Oodles of charisma at first sight: in appearance, a rich golden aroma bursting with shameless seduction. You might want to dive in and be taken, helplessly hypnotised. It is as rewarding to stare and sniff as it is to swig or slug. In the layers and layers of complexity you cannot separate the influence of age, grapes/vineyard, and the Boxler “house style”. They chime together as one. But it is clear that after 10 years, the wine is at the start of a long journey of mesmerising brilliance.
There is a deliciously decadent creaminess on the nose that makes you think the wine would simply please a basic palate. But no… There’s so much depth here, and in particular, structure – a characteristic wine writers rarely ascribe to white wines because mostly, structure is imparted by the interplay between tannin, acidity and sweetness, and whites tend to be considerably less tannic. But in this Boxler, the relationship between the elements of acidity, sweetness, fragrance, weight, texture – they are all exploding outwards together. Every sniff, every sip is different to the last and to the next.
Powerful at 14% ABV – twice that of the first Riesling of the day.
A sensational wine. More of a performance than something that lies still in the glass. It will not lie there for long.
Riesling Grand Cru Hengst 2016, Josmeyer
Light bronze hue; thick, unctuous, oily legs. Exciting just to swirl this stuff. All sorts of aromas – reminds me of banana split! Not that I am in the habit of eating such things. But bananas, cream, vanilla ice cream… definitely present. No strawberries or candied cherries. The simile has gone far enough. And then behind this some lemony notes. But all of these initial perceptions are misleading – they are not taking you to where the wine really is. What you get on the tongue is another story. You get a nuttiness that’s really wonderfully evocative of place, and not commonly associated with Riesling. Age has added depth and richness. Lovely rounded texture and long, lingering finish, rich with nuances that are lactic, citric and sensations of nuts/dried fruits all at once. Splendidly distinctive and confident of its origins as much as its future. I would age this without fear of loss, only gain.
Côte-Rôtie Les Grandes Places 2015, Les Vins de Vienne
Barely a sign of age on this masterful Côte-Rôtie. Blood red, almost mahogany. The sheer intensity of the fragrance – so concentrated it defies belief. Late-picked blackberries, crushed black peppercorns, a touch of fresh brioche. Not a hint of Brett. Clean as a whistle. On the tongue, a velvety sensation – tannic texture perfectly poised between young/bristly and ageing/softening. Listing aromas such as leather, nutmeg, an old-fashioned cobbler’s shop (boot polish?), dates or figs, does not do justice to this bugger-me-sideways joy-juice. It is an impeccably judged wine that takes you straight to Grandes Places – surely one of Earth’s vineyards for the ages. Might be a notch below La Landonne or La Mouline, but that is quibbling. It has got a touch of sandalwood on the finish, but it is such a polished, tightly contained wine. One thing: there is a mysterious earthiness and stoniness (I am not going to say granitic) here and there that some would think of as an imperfection. It is in fact what makes it exciting, authentic, and archetypal.
Give me more Cote-Rotie!
Priorat Costers de Vinyes Velles 2001, Mas Doix
This lovely, lovely Priorat showed a tad better today than three months ago. It was softer, rounder, and aromatically much bigger, which I attribute to the stemware and the ambient serving temperature. I do disagree slightly with my experience of a bottle had a few months ago – there is ageing here, and it is most detectable in the softened tannins. As Doix fans know, this wine is super-tannic when young. Not as abrasive as a Cavallotto at 2-3 years, but very drying. It gets in the way of enjoyment. Here the tannins have become silky smooth, and this eases the entry. Most striking is the nose – a captivating bouquet of roses, figs, molasses, cocoa dustings, fresh vanilla pods… I do not know what the Garnatxa/Carinyena split is in the 2001, but judging by the splits in adjacent vintages, it will be near 50/50. What we do know is that the grapes come from super old vines, planted in the early 1900s.
This is a very serious Priorat and as you would expect, right at the end you get that llicorella stoniness which takes you right to those majestic hillsides with the Montsant escarpment in the distance.
Gewurztraminer Grand Cru Sporen Vieilles Vignes Vendanges Tardives 2017, Meyer-Fonné
I am a sucker for this stuff and find it mighty hard to find fault with. Not this wine in particular, which is tremendous, but Alsace Gewurz in general. At eight years old, this is just getting started. Exploding with lychee, melon, mango and apricots. Lots of residual sugar but a lovely bright acidity reining in all the plush richness. A finish that’s like a song, a single gorgeous soulful voice in the wilderness when you have all but lost hope. A truly superb wine.
All the wines we tasted
That Ma’s Doix was freaking brilliant, Ricard! It was really my first taste of mature Priorat that had aged into something really lovely.
It was a great example of how it’s not absolute alcohol level that matters, rather it’s harmony with other elements in the wine. Excellent balance there!
Thank you for what I hope is your first of many articles on Elitistreview!
Yes, as you and I have often debated Davy, the balance is the thing.
It is not uncommon for people to complain about one of the constituent parts of a wine if, like Spinal Tap, it’s turned up to 11. (“Eww! This wine is too sweet!”) But if all the others are turned up to 11, then it’s just a powerful wine is. I remember a 1985 Graham’s a couple of years ago. Everything was dialled up to 11. But crucially, it was balanced. It was a super-charismatic, explosive wine, a memorable port. Other times, you have wines of mesmerising subtlety, where everything is dialled down to 3 or 4.
This Priorat (and a few others in the same peer group, such as Clos Dofí, Clos Mogador and Clos Fontà, for example) managed to disguise its 15% ABV through the sheer exuberance of the other elements, such as tannin, sweetness and residual sugar.
Unlike, say, California Cabernet or Barossa Shiraz, which frequently seeks exaggeration and hyperbole over equilibrium.
What is interesting about Doix is how it has aged gracefully. The typically drying tannins of its youth have softened into caresses, and the fruit has developed richly rewarding tertiary notes of cinnamon and nutmeg, and the structure has remained, holding it together. Vitally, there is a seam of acidity that prevents collapse into soupiness. I attribute this not just to expertise and love of terroir and tradition, but to fruit quality in that vintage.
Anyway… More tastings to come old chap!