Part Three of my “Recent Wines” for November is an interesting mix, even by my slightly weird (at times) standards. We kick off with another of those Geneva wines I’ve been sneaking in throughout the year. Wine two is a Czech sparkling wine, without doubt the best sparkling wine I can remember drinking from that part of the world. Wine three is a truly exceptional Barolo at fifteen years old, followed by an Austrian wine from equally deep in my cellar, hailing from my favourite Wachau producer. We finish with what is certainly the strangest wine of the year. Tasted literally blind, not only would you be lucky to get the grape variety and region, but you’d need a few guesses to pinpoint its colour.
That final wine warrants an aside about what we, meaning the kind of people who read this blog, are looking for in a wine. It was a gift from a close friend who was staying with us. The retailer had told her “no way” I’d have tried this. Well, I had of course, but only at a tasting. Our friend didn’t really like it. I presume that much of her reaction was down to the colour/grape combo. However, I was quite excited to drink half that bottle, whilst the others stuck with their first glass. It was interesting, entertaining, stimulating and I am pleased to have drunk it. That said, I won’t be heading out for a six-pack. Nevertheless, it definitely merits inclusion.
Pierres Noires 2022, Cave de Sézenove/Bernard Bosseau (Geneva, Switzerland)
Bernard Bosseau is based at Bernex. This village is next to better known Lully, directly to the west of, and close to, Geneva and to the south of the Rhône where it flows out of the lake. This wine is one of those interesting blends which Geneva does surprisingly well, considering they get little publicity overseas, where I am guessing most wine lovers hardly register that Geneva makes wine. This, despite that quality revolution here which I keep endlessly repeating.
The grape varieties involved are the classic Merlot and Syrah with one of the newer crossings Gamaret, and Ancellotta. Gamaret is probably known to many of my readers, but Ancellotta is fairly new to me. It’s actually a dark-skinned vinifera variety from Emilia-Romagna in Italy, where it is a rare blending variety in Lambrusco. Strong pigmentation means it has also been used as a natural food colouring. It has made inroads into Swiss wine for some reason, and I’ve had reason to mention it before in this context.
I don’t know a great deal about this producer either. Apparently, he was originally from Nantes, in France, but has been making wine at Bernex for twenty years. However, this wine from this vintage did manage a 90 Point rating in Falstaff Magazine, which placed this cuvée among the best 17 wines of the 2022 vintage in the Geneva AOC.
It is certainly dark in colour, the predominant aromatics being black cherry and toasty oak (it is aged 12 months in oak, 25% new). The tannins are fine-grained but it is youthful. The 13.5% alcohol helps add a sweetness/richness, and the fresh fruit acidity is attractive. It has good length too. Despite its youth I enjoyed drinking it, but it needs hearty cuisine. I suspect it will age quite elegantly.
Naturally you are unlikely to find this in the UK, where you will have to visit Alpine Wines online to sample a selection of other wines from Geneva (but not this one). I believe price is around CHF24 (roughly a 1:1 conversion rate for £).

Blanc de Noir 2020, Krasna Hora (Moravia, Czechia)
In Stary Poddvorov in Southern Moravia you can hardly miss the Krasna Hora winery. It is small but modern, sitting as many older winegrower’s buildings around it do, at the bottom of a vine-clad hillside that climbs to a wooded crest. The labels of many of the wines here look very modern, and to some extent they taste modern too. Yet these are natural wines, with tradition at their heart. This Blanc de Noir (sic) Sekt is one of the most traditional, and in some respects the one wine they make that cannot be called a “natural wine”.
There is one grape variety, Pinot Noir. It is made by the “traditional” method, that used in Champagne. There is no dosage and the wine is allowed 12 months on lees before disgorgement. No additives are used on the vines, and there are no synthetic chemicals used in the winery. There is some sulphur added, but in very small amounts. However, the intention with this wine is to create a Champagne lookalike, and so Champagne yeasts (rather than the ambient yeasts used for their other bottlings) are added to start the fermentation.
As you can see, I’ve aged this myself for a few years, and the wine has certainly benefitted from this. There is a fruity side to it, red fruits showing initially on the nose. Then more complex aromas and flavours kick in. I think it is developing some nice autolytic character. I get apples, a slight yeasty-mushroom element and some autumnal notes. It’s very good, and indeed extremely good value, I think around £33. Ageing it a little certainly paid dividends.
Purchased directly from importer Basket Press Wines.

Barolo 2010, Giacomo Fenocchio (Piemonte, Italy)
Kerin O’Keefe in “Barolo and Barbaresco” (University of California Press, 2014) unhesitatingly calls this a “cult winery”. They are based at Monforte d’Alba and Claudio Fenocchio now orchestrates 15 hectares of vines, of which around 7ha are in the Barolo DOCG. He has some fantastic individual sites used for his Bussia, Villero and Cannubi cuvées, but here we have his entry level Barolo. It’s still brilliant!
The wines here at Fenocchio all err towards what some like to call the “traditional” style. In this case we have a spontaneous fermentation using ambient local yeasts, taking place for the straight Barolo in stainless steel (oak fermentation is just for the Reserva). Ageing, however, is in Slavonian oak (both 35hl and larger 70hl casks).
Despite being fifteen years old, it might strike many as still a bit youthful (not young). The bouquet is shockingly fruity, but supplemented by some toasty/smoky notes on the nose. Finally, a hint of something floral, good old roses. The palate still has tannins, albeit soft and ripe tannins. It may be an odd thing to say, but they were the most beautiful tannins I’ve tasted for a long time. I decided not to decant, and I made the right choice because as a whole package it was wonderful. However, I do have another bottle, which I will try to keep three-to-five years.
This came from The Solent Cellar in Lymington. No idea what I paid, probably a lot less than it costs now, yet importer Armit Wines has the 2021 for around £41 (you can pay a fair bit more at one or two well known retailers). £40 is, in my mind, a bargain for a wine this good, so long as you are prepared to wait.

Dürnsteiner Riesling Ried Kellerberg Smaragd 2011, Weingut Knoll (Wachau, Austria)
Perhaps I should decode the label of this traditional Wachau Riesling. Ried Kellerberg is a single site in the village of Dürnstein. Sitting to the east of the Knoll winery (and excellent heuriger restaurant) at Unterloiben, the castle ruin above Dürnstein once acted as the prison for King Richard I of England after his capture by the angry Austrians on his rather foolhardy solitary return from the First Crusade. He suffered for his arrogance toward Austria’s Duke Leopold on campaign at the siege of Acre, and England was forced to pay a meaty ransom for it.
The Kellerberg sits at the top of the hill, to the east of the castle. Smaragd denotes ripeness. Federspiel wines are picked young, and generally drink young (though many can age). Picked later, Smaragd wines are dry but rich, and generally age well, especially if the wine is made by Emmerich Knoll.
As for the vintage, 2011 was a good year in the Wachau. A sunny, warm, growing season led into an Indian summer stretching well into October. The wines are ripe and complex. Though in youth they probably lacked the acidity of some vintages, they made up for it in extract. The dry late summer also meant little or no botrytis was created on the grapes destined for a dry style. At Knoll critics usually count 2011 among the top five vintages of the first two decades of this century.
We have 14% abv here, but the wine is well balanced. The bouquet has greengage with a hint of bergamot, yet the palate sings of apricots. There’s softness, richness and weight, yet I feel it is elegant too, perhaps in a “Dowager Countess” way. I can’t fault its length, which goes on forever.
I imagine few bottles will be around from the 2011s now. This bottle began its life, with a few others, in a basket on a hired bicycle. We were cycling the Wachau Cycle Trail (very highly recommended, the bikes were hired close to the station in Krems), and paid a visit to the wonderful Vinothek Föhringer wine shop on the banks of the Danube (near the landing jetty) at Spitz. We’d just had lunch at the riverside Gasthaus Prankl, followed by a climb up to the castle at Spitz, but if your legs are weary, I would suggest the aforementioned Heuriger, the Restaurant Loibnerhof owned by Knoll. Oddly enough it is now lunchtime and the thought of schnitzel or schweinsbraten with a bottle of Knoll Federspiel Grüner is making my stomach rumble something rotten.

« Never Odd or Even » Vin de France [2022], Chàteau Picoron (Bordeaux, France)
So, what is strange about this wine. Quite a lot, really. Okay, it’s a Merlot and it comes from Bordeaux, in fact from the wider Saint-Emilion sub-region, although Sainte-Colombe is technically within the Castillon-Côtes de Bordeaux AOC, named after the town it centres on, Castillon-la-Bataille. The battle in question took place on 17 July 1453 when the defeat of the English army under John Talbot (yes, that one), First Earl of Shrewsbury, led to the loss of nearly all English-ruled land in France, and finally ended the so-called Hundred Years War between the two crowns.
But this it isn’t red Merlot. It isn’t even white (they do make a white Merlot). But we are ahead of ourselves. Château Picoron is run by an Australian couple, Glenda and Frank Kalyk. The Château dates from 1570 and its vines, 4.5 hectares, grow in different plots surrounding it, one plot per cuvée. They only grow Merlot but they do manage to make a surprising number of styles of wine from it. I say “the wider Saint-Emilion region” because in terms of terroir, the Château sits, geologically speaking, on Saint-Emilion’s clay and limestone ridge. They do go for palindromes for the names of their wines, but that must be the least of the worries Bordeaux traditionalists have with this estate.
Never Odd or Even (they had to kill the English language for that palindrome, losing an inconvenient “n”) is what you might call a grey wine, though not a Vin Gris. In other words, it isn’t a wine tinged with pink as in oeil de perdrix. It is literally grey. The colour of a lemon squash like Robinson’s Barley Water, which will be familiar to British readers and fans of the Wimbledon Grand Slam. It’s also cloudy.
The bouquet was quite muted until pear and coconut welled-up in the Zalto. The palate was clean and direct, showing some acidity and a chalky texture (very fine grained, dusty). I saw a tasting note that said tahini. I didn’t get that myself but a good shout. I know what they meant.
So, this is unquestionably the strangest wine of the year. It was definitely enjoyable alongside being extremely interesting for any wine obsessive. It came from Winekraft in Edinburgh, and the importer is Moreno Wines. Moreno currently list seven Picoron wines and this isn’t one of them. Only 600 bottles of it were made, and I do wonder whether they decided not to repeat the experiment. Winekraft were brave to list it because there are not all that many people who like wine that’s this crazy in Edinburgh. Cork & Cask list a few of Picoron’s other wines, one of which I’ve previously written about here.
It also cost £30. We all agreed that £20 would have been a better price point, and that’s the problem with artisan wines like this. Producer etc costs are high, especially when the bottle run is just 600 units. I’ve no doubt the maths doesn’t work at £20, but £20 seems right for a crazy experiment like this. That said, lovers of the weird and wonderful should seek it out if any is left.

The next Recent Wines articles covering December will, of course, appear in January. I shall be trying to publish my Review of the Year before Christmas, whilst my traditional Wines of the Year will most likely appear as my first piece of 2026 (fingers crossed). Regular readers might be relieved that my recent prolific output will hopefully slow down a bit over the holiday period whilst I indulge in some well-earned hibernation, vinyl-spinning, weight gain through food and alcohol, and maybe a bit of exercise to burn it off.






































































































