Summary tastings

McGuigan Black Label Red 2010 (Australia, Shiraz blend)

Now here my friends is a winemaker I never thought I would say good things about. Long ago I worked in hotel slash restaurant slash bar. I remember well helping the head barman restock from the cellar, and the exact way he said the word 'McGuigan' (you might think it is not possible to say the word 'McGuigan' in only one syllable, but I assure you it is). It can't have been that he actually presumed it to be bad - afterall he was a souped-up-car-owning Essex boy who had likely never tried the stuff - but he made it sound a bit like everything else that was being moved was fine, but this was somehow worse than white lightning and would only be paid for by idiots. Years later I bought some McGuigan from, I suspect, Tesco. It was rubbish. Even the label on the bottle of this one being reviewed looks shit. Frankly I'd never have bought this had it not been for the fact that it was only marginally less highly rated by Virgin Wines customers than aforereviewed Beneficio epic fucking amazingness, and yet costs well short of half the price. In summary, it had to be tried. After thoroughly enjoying a couple of glasses, I came to repeatedly swirling it in my glass and sniffing the aromas. I have two theories. 1) This is the best smelling wine I have ever smellded (not a typo) or 2) I have learned to smell wine properly, and this is also an immense smelling wine. Going back to tasting the wine, this is so well balanced it's the historical equivalent of the Cold War before anyone realised the Russians were absolutely shafted. This is a 2010 vintage which tastes like it is being drunk at its prime, and counters the idea that such reds should never be drunk young. If it isn't at its prime, and it's going to be better in a year or few, then by then it's going to also be worth twice as much. I'll be buying more soon either way. Genius.


Chateau Des Cedres Bordeaux Rouge 2009 (France, Merlot blend)
Writing this review some days later I have... sort of... forgotten this wine. I had it with some red meat, it was nice, went well, generally I was happy but it was not memorable. Good Bordeaux, from what I have read, should not be drunk young. Therefore I can only assume I have reduced a good wine into an average one through my own impatience. It must have been a good one as it was quite nice even with a mere two years to mature, which is far less than generally recommended. Sorry Bordeaux, I will do better next time. Maybe.


The Magnificent Crowing Cockerel Sauvignon Blanc 2010 (NZ)
Ok so... on the one hand this was a good tasting Sauvignon Blanc, with clear rounded flavours, a decent finish, crisp and clean. On the other hand it seemed to give me a serious headache almost immediately after the first half of the first glass, and subsequently a crushing hangover having had less than half a bottle. No, I am not that lightweight. Perhaps I was not feeling myself, but I wondered if the bottle I'd had was a bit off. Since I have three more bottles of the stuff, I'm hoping feeling ill isn't just a reaction to the Cock in general (ok terrible joke, bye now).

I've now reviewed two chardonnays, Bellevue and Sail. One is in my view, hugely better than the other. Bursting with flavour and intensity, the victory of Sail is the wine equivalent of world war II, except both sides are Australia and there was a clear victor from day one. So nothing like world war II. More to the point, why is one so much better? The first thought that comes to mind is that the one of nautical naming is oak aged, but I've not been able to find out. Even the devastating power of google is truly pathetic when trying to find out such basic facts. it's interesting to note how different the Sail is from a Chablis, which is a classic white and can only be made from 100% Chardonnay. The Sail is perhaps a blend, mixing some other fruity power to reach the potency which isn't as crisp but is ultimately more satisfying than the Bellevue contender. In short, to confirm either of the above suggestions, I will have to a) drink lots more oak aged white wine and b) drink lots more not-Chardonnay.... and OK, sorry google, you've been good to me in the past. Just try to know more things. Thanks.

Muchly Vino

1x  + 1x me = 1x hangover.

The only reason for this unfortunate scenario is that this Sail Chardonnay (2010 - Australia) is so drinkable I demolished the entire bottle within about an hour. The first thing of note is the power of flavour - the wine equivalent of being hit in the face with a lot of fruit. Very hard. None of the indecisiveness you find with many of the same grape, it is clear, crisp, powerful and holds no punches. I was hoping to make a variety of nautical puns instead of repeatedly referring to hitting things, but it hasn't worked out so far. However, this wine is definitely plain sailing for anyone who is trying to brave the rough seas of finding a proper Chardonnay that hasn't been made with the wine buying public of Romford in mind. And that's the truth, the hull truth, and nothing but the truth. If you aren't sure about Chardonnay but you like Sauv Blanc or Pinot Gri, this is one to test the water with. I matched this with a sort of mackerely (the label was russian) fish with tomatoes - the additional intensity and complexity the fish bought out in the wine was absolutely oarsome, and has further persuaded me of the potential for food and wine matching. It's highly drinkable alone though, and my unfathomable hangover is a stern reminder to drink a little slower.

Other notes: now onto bottle three of the 'Grand Livre' as previously reviewed as not being very interesting. While this thought remains, it would be a great introductory red being smooth, non-offensive and still having a little of the flavours that its bigger better cousins have in abundance. That abundance would put some off, and to those the book should be given.

Epic Success!!

                    
Tierra del Corazon Casablanca Pinot Noir Reserva 2010 (Chile)

Incredible success! Today, upon smelling this fine fruity Pinot Noir, I suggested to my fine fruity girlfriend that it possibly resembled blackberries. Today, upon reading the label of this fine fruity Pinot Noir (subsequent to aforementioned smelling) it said 'blackberry scented fruit'. And so, for the first time literally ever, I have tasted (albeit through the schnoz) what the winemakers actually think the wine is made of. This is essentially a first, because I hadn't read the label in advance and therefore decided in advance that I was going to definitely experience 'crisp, pretentious gooseberry notes with a hint of I can't believe it's not butter on the nose, with a velvety scotch of mangled columbines with a delicious, blood red sea of actual blood, resulting from a finish of slaughtered peasantry'. Afterall, it's easy to taste ethnic minorities when the wine label tells you it's going to taste of them. Okay, the wine and success may have got to my head.

Wine of a Holiday

Drinking and reading are the order of the day. Or really the order of last week. There are plenty of wine drinkers who will say that they know 'a good red' or a 'claret from their beaujolais' (Blur, 1990s) but few of those will claim they really know how to buy one, short of a little luck and sticking to the bottles they know. Perhaps when they want a great bottle they simply dig a little deeper, or go to a decent wine shop and tell them what they're after. I've always tried to judge wine by the label, and it's a system which hasn't done me too much harm. It's never totally reliable, because a grape you like from a country you like with the right amount of age may still be terrible. Buying wines which have been reduced in the supermarket occasionally brings great rewards, but you have to question why they are reduced - is it simply a promotion or are they past their best-to-drink date? It seems to fall both sides. It's hard to tell when you're standing there trying to determine whether the bottle you're staring at is going to have too much acid, taste of rubber, or simply be insipid and fail to deliver the knockout blow you were looking for with that extra few quid.


In an effort to understand wine a little better, I've begun a knowledge quest. Where is my wine from, how is it made, and in many cases which grapes are actually used!? I was surprised to discover that many winemakers give no indication of grape type on their bottle. I suppose I was aware of this from looking at bottles and not seeing a type - I knew that Bordeaux was not a grape itself, but hadn't appreciated the huge variety of grape types in the different wines we know as Bordeaux. This applies to many wine types. What, for example, is in a Burgundy? I am only beginning to find out the combinations and the styles which come from each region. Even indeed from a single wine. You'll have heard of Chateauneuf Du Pape, but do you have any idea what it consists of? Apparently, usually primarily Grenache grapes, but with potentially ten or more grape type in any bottle - and according to the rules which control the Appellation (the AOC 'Appellation d'Origine Controllé*), it could be made from any combination of those grapes - or just one... so it could contain no Grenache at all. I just knew it tasted epic! How about Shiraz and Syrah? Actually the same grape, with both names used according to preference. And why have I given all the grape type capital letters? Presumably overconsumption.


I've also tried to challenge my traditional thoughts on regions and value. Because South American wines have always seemed good value, I've tended to stick to them when buying wine at around the £5-8 mark, along with a few French bottles as I know a little about French wine. Increasingly I'm realising that, in fact, I know practically nothing about French wine, but that what makes good value in wine is an appreciation of where it comes from and the quality processes associated with this. Winemaking is extremely complex and many factors influence the differences you taste in your wine - the final price may rarely be indicative of how good it is. Without boring you with the details... I'd have to say absolutely nothing else on this subject. Watch this space for an idiot's guide to wine buying i.e. a guide to wine buying by an idiot, which you'll at least be able to understand.


Aanyway... on to the wine drunk on my recent trip up north. Pretty successful with all concerned. Two bottles with high expectations absolutely delivered, and one with much lower expectations proved pretty damn good, although the lesser quality red went down easily but without making much impression. 3 out of 4 is not bad, especially since we were suitably drunk at least twice (ok, exactly twice).



Seraph Reserve Sauvignon Blanc 2010 - Sauvignon Blanc (France)
It wouldn't be unreasonable to simply refer to my previous review of the Seraph Sav Blanc, which was excellent, and simply add the words 'a bit better'. This might not give it the credit it deserves, except that the 'bit better' moves it well into the Sancerre league. Is it worth the extra £1.50 a bottle? Yes if you are buying one for an occasion, but only a maybe if you are buying a whole case because you really like the stuff. Which would be quite reasonable.






Reina Mora Special Selection Torrontes 2010 - Torrontes Blend (Argentina)
Where the Seraph is a £10 bottle of wine which definitely make it's price tag worthy, this is a wine which comes only a little cheaper. I was pleasantly surprised, not least because a week earlier I had drunk a red Reina Mora and found it fairly average (review pending, I have three more!). This was reminiscent of a good Pinot Grigio, crisp but powerful, not subtle but not wanting for it, with plenty of fruit. It doesn't beat the slightly cheaper Seraph previously discussed, but then it is a very different wine. I plan to compare the next bottle more closely with aforereviewed (now a word) Pinot Grigio, as they feel similar and come in at a comparable price.




Grand Livre Coteaux du Languedoc 2009 - Grenache Blend (France)
I found this more drinkable than expected, having seen the reviews other customers had given this at Virgin Wines. I'd also applied the 'label theory' described above, and expected it therefore to be boring. It was fairly rich with a decent finish, but wasn't doing anything special. Certainly not nearly good enough to justify close to £10 bottle, but it came cheap in a bargain case so I'll not be complaining. Except now. GRR.







Arva Vitis Cuvee del Pago 2006 - Grenache Blend (Spain)
My first thoughts were 'yes!' and then 'bloody YES!'. My above thoughts on the Seraph pretty much apply here. It's hugely earned its £10 price and knocks out plenty of wines of comparable value. Without harping on about the price it... oh wait too late. It's advertised as 'Rioja style' but I felt it bridged that gap towards a good Shiraz, being both smooth but very powerful and with spices in abundance, and with a finish demanding more. More wine that is.





*As was kindly explained to me by the frenchman that introduced me to wine tasting, cooking with garlic and shaking-hands-everytime-you-see-each-other years ago, French wine has three 'levels of quality'. Vin de table (no quality controls), Vin de Pays (some quality controls), and AOC. Where the bottle bears AOC this means it has met the requirements for that territory or type. Guarantees that you will like the wine depend on far more factors, but you can understand from this label that the wine has met certain strict quality controls during production.