My wet January continues here in Part 2 with another varied selection of wines, this time coming from Beaujolais, Slovenia’s Goriška Brda, Piemonte, South Africa’s Western Cape, Devon in England and last but not least, Champagne. None of these wines might seem like the peak of their country’s, or region’s, achievements to a more narrow-minded wine lover, but I am minded of a comment made by Robert Macfarlane in his foreword to Nan Shepherd’s “The Living Mountain”. He points out that “to aim for the highest point is not the only way to climb a mountain”. I think this is a good metaphor for learning deeply about wine.

Macfarlane also comments that “most works of mountaineering literature have been written by men”. I think that is interesting too because this was the same in wine for a very long time. Now, women are finding a voice, more and more. I wonder how many different views of wine we are getting now? Certainly, many of these writers are not obsessed only with striking out for the peaks. There’s so much more to discover in the valleys and up on the plateau. As I search for real value this year, these thoughts seem apt. But please excuse my digression. It’s time for some wines.

Fleurie 2018 Clos de la Roilette, Domaine Coudert (Beaujolais, France)

The Gamay grape has been, perhaps, one of the most misunderstood through most of my life in wine. There have been those who have loved it, and if you get the chance try to find an old copy of Arlott on Wine (Fontana Press, 1987, I see copies online for just £3.50). Arlott may be more famous as a cricket commentator but his passion for Gamay was famous.

However, I think Gamay was always seen as a fun grape making fruity wines to supp sooner rather than later. This was so even before industrial Beaujolais Nouveau did for the region’s reputation what 1970s Liebfraumilch did for German wine. Nowadays we know different, especially when it comes to the potential quality of the Crus, and Fleurie (along with Morgon) seems to have gained some sort of crown among them.

This particular Fleurie comes from grapes grown on the border with Moulin-à-Vent, which is where the Clos’s owners felt it should have been placed back in the mid-1920s when the boundaries were drawn. It’s the reason why “Fleurie” appears in pretty small letters on the label. The soils, manganese and clay, impart a greater structure to the wine than is common among Fleuries. We are also blessed with old vines, which with Gamay makes quite a difference.

In the glass we have something which is quite dark in colour for Gamay, something akin to the colour of blackcurrant juice. You would be forgiven (at least by me) for thinking this was Pinot Noir, although it is not nearly as similar to a mature Pinot as the 2011 Foillard Côte du Py I wrote about in my Wines of the Year 2023 Review. The fruit spectrum has the expected cherry, if perhaps darker cherry, plus some lovely plum notes.

To sum up simply, it’s a lovely wine. The retailer suggests (re the 2022 vintage) that the specific soils here help make a Fleurie that ages well, and to me the wine has retained some youthful vibrancy along with a little structure, even at approaching six years old. This cost me £14, a ridiculous bargain at the time. The 2022 can now be had for £25 from The Solent Cellar, which for good Fleurie is still almost a bargain.

Sivi 2022, Kmetija Štekar (Goriška Brda, Slovenia)

When I tasted some of the new vintages from Basket Press Wines in Edinburgh late last year, this was one of the wines which seemed to shout out, not only to me but to my wife, who accompanied me. The part of this producer’s range which I call the “monkey labels” have never quite stood out in previous tastings, perhaps because they have, like their packaging, a subtlety which can be drowned out by bigger wines. Not here.

Janko and Tamara Stekar have 5 hectares of vines in what is effectively a continuation over the border from Italy’s famous Collio. Winemaking here is often as obsessively quality-orientated as it is over in Italy. Sivi is 100% Pinot Grigio, made with the kind of light skin contact the Italians call ramato. Skin contact lasted 12 days during fermentation. Ageing was on the lees but it was bottled after just six months.

We have a natural wine made without any added sulphur. There are fresh acids backed up with really tasty fruit, a mix of pear and something more tropical (orange and mango, maybe). There’s a bit of spice, but blink and you might miss it. The 12% alcohol seems very well judged for balance. The texture from skins and lees ageing is present but not high in the mix, to use a music metaphor. Fun and delicious. We loved it at home in winter, but a summer picnic would be perfect. A reminder to buy more and broaden my knowledge of this producer.

Like Slovakia, Czechia, Croatia and Bulgaria, etc, Slovenia is claiming its place in our wine world. I find it fascinating how in so many countries formerly under collectivised farming there are now emerging artisan wine industries (industry being perhaps not quite the right word) which are giving us some of the most exciting bottles currently available to explore. It really is the time to get out there and try these wines before, like the French, Italian and German wines we love, the prices start to go up and, as is happening with many wines we used to import (Jura being a classic example), other markets become more attractive to the producers.

£27 from Basket Press Wines and in stock.

Roero DOCG 2020, Giovanni Almondo (Piemonte, Italy)

If Barolo and Barbaresco are running away from your budget, then Roero, in the hills north of Alba, is often the place to head. Of all the outlying sub-regions for Nebbiolo in Piemonte, it can so often throw out the best wines, both in terms of value and thrill factor. Those importers who truly know their Barolo have known this for a decade or more.

Roero, of course, can be as expensive as Barolo from some sources, but it is also a DOCG where there is so much value, usually found among small and medium-sized family estates, such as Giovanni Almondo at Montà d’Alba, towards Roero’s northern border.

We have 70-year-old vines here from three sites off soil described as 70% sand and 30% limestone and clay, all at around 320 masl with a southern exposure. The fermentation took place over eighteen days on skins and ageing followed in large Slavonian oak over a further year-and-a-half. The result is a pale-ish red wine with a lovely, gentle bouquet of red berries, violets and liquorice (is that my nasal take on tar and roses?). The palate has a softness too, with smooth cherries, vibrant red fruits and a little grip to finish.

This is perhaps a youngish wine, but you can’t always keep Nebbiolo for decades. It’s nice to have one to drink at just a few years old. I did let it breath well, and although the importer gives a drinking window of “2024 (young) to 2035” I don’t think many would be too disappointed opening it now, as I did. But do choose a decently large glass to get some air in.

This was a satisfying £17 from Smith & Gertrude in Portobello, but it is imported by Lay & Wheeler. Equally satisfying is that you get a pretty nice wine to accompany your roast dinner for less money than many a disappointing supermarket Barolo. Not complex, but it certainly passes the “would you buy it again?” test.

Rocking Horse Cape White Blend 2021, Thorne & Daughters (Western Cape, South Africa)

John and Tasha Seccombe founded their winery in 2012, after John had studied at England’s Plumpton College. This white is classic Cape, a blend (in 2021) of 32% Roussanne, 29% Semillon (a mix of Blanc and Gris), 19% Chardonnay, 16% Chenin Blanc and 4% Clairette Blanche. The grapes come from a number of sites including at Stellenbosch, Franschhoek, the Ceres Plateau, Paardeberg and Swartland, with a variety of soil types, but mostly alluvial gravels and decomposed granite.

This starts out with a whole bunch ferment in old 600-litre casks using indigenous yeasts. Pressing, in an old Vaslin horizontal press allows for just a touch of oxidation. It is described as a low-intervention wine (“no treatments or additions”) and also “vegan”, but some sulphur was apparently added. It was aged in a variety of old French oak, on lees, for ten months, where it underwent a natural malo.

The bouquet mixes apple freshness with more exotic fruits like kiwi, peach and melon, together with a richness and spice that works really well. Very attractive. The fruit-driven palate, with plum and herbs (rosemary, bay) added to the above, also has a touch of salinity to lift it.

I have drunk this wine several times before, but certainly not post-Covid. I’d forgotten how tasty it is. It’s the kind of blend where every grape variety seems to add something, so that you get complexity of sorts even in a young wine. It also tastes nicely different. It highlights the concept of the “Cape White Blend” extremely well. This bottle was purchased at Lockett Brothers, North Berwick’s wine and fine whisky shop (c £24), but down in England it can be found quite widely. Try branches of The Good Wine Shop. The importer is Liberty Wines. One to try if you haven’t already.

Artefact 2021, Castlewood Wines (Devon, UK)

I know I posted a note about this very wine in October last year, and I do try not to repeat myself. It’s just that my observant daughter, who was at the table when I drank it, tracked down what was just about the last bottle of 2021 as part of my Christmas present. As I had failed to find one, I was shocked and pretty damned pleased to be given it, and so I made sure to share it with the giver of the gift.

Castlewood is one of those English wineries which have seemed thus far to have escaped my cellar. I own five books on English (& Welsh) wine, and they don’t appear in any, not even Ed Dallimore’s Vineyards of Britain (which profiles by far the greatest number). Yet this vineyard, below Musbury Hill Fort in Devon, has a fascinating selection of wines in its repertoire, Artefact perhaps topping that particular list.

In 2016 they planted 2ha of Bacchus to supplement what was already a vineyard planted with typical sparkling wine varieties. Luke Harbor is Head Sommelier at the Pig Hotels chain, and as a local boy he had been helping in the vineyard for around five years before he asked to get involved on the winemaking side. Artefact is a collaboration with Luke.

The Bacchus for the 2021 vintage was harvested on 10 October, then crushed and destemmed into two 300-litre Tuscan amphorae. After 21 days on skins, fermenting via native yeasts, the wine was aged 11 months on lees before racking from amphorae into stainless steel, where it rested for three months before bottling (in perhaps English wine’s most distinctive bottle, with a really beautiful label designed by Tommy Gillard). No fining nor filtration was undertaken.

A lovely bouquet showcases grapefruit, mango and guava scents. The palate has zingy fruit acids with flavours of grapefruit, gooseberry and a whisp of leaf tea. The amphorae, and the lees ageing, gives the wine a little texture, of the kind that somehow (don’t ask) reminds me of iron filings, though faint. I really like this a lot, especially now I’ve drunk two bottles. What I don’t understand is why I haven’t come across this producer before. It’s true that only 1,000 bottles of Artefact were made. It was claimed, so my daughter said, that this was the last known bottle for sale (?). Retailed by IJ Mellis Cheesemongers in Edinburgh, Glasgow and St Andrews, for just £22. The 2021 is also sold out at the vineyard. One hopes a 2022 will become available?

Champagne Palmer Brut Réserve NV (Champagne, France)

When I was a bit younger, I was always looking for Palmer Champagne, probably because I recalled reading positive things from Tom Stevenson about this producer. However, it was a marque more often encountered in restaurants than retail. Although I drank this at an hotel, I see now that it does appear in a few small retailers, though I don’t think any I have previously bought from.

One of them, Noble Green Wines, gets it spot on in suggesting that Palmer “produce one of those rare things, truly great value Champagne”. Brut Réserve blends 50% Chardonnay with circa 33% Pinot Noir and 17% Pinot Meunier, most sourced from Grand and Premier Cru sites on the Montagne de Rheims, but fruit is also included from the Côte de Sézanne, Côtes des Bar and the Marne Valley. The key to this cuvée is the use of an unusually high percentage of reserve wines from a perpetual reserve (like a solera).

There is definitely complexity. I’m not sure either how long it had on lees (though here it tastes like it had a decent spell), nor when this bottle was disgorged. It has a nice richness which comes through with hazelnut and brioche, but there’s also crisp red apple freshness with a peachy/apricot undertone. This also suggests it had been resting in the Marine Hotel’s cellars for a wee while, if not too long.

Now we come to price. This Brut Réserve seems to retail, if you can find it, for between £34 to £40 or just over. To be honest, at those prices I’d buy it without hesitation. You can get more for your money if you spend £50, but that’s quite a bit more spread over a case. I can vouch for the fact that you can do a whole lot worse at the lower end of that price spectrum. I paid £84/bottle. It was nice to treat the table to Champagne for our Burns Night Supper, but I do think they are pushing it a little. A bit gouging but what can you expect. The hotel does cater for a lot of American golfers, whose budget may surpass mine. Waitrose sometimes has the Blanc de Blancs for £54, which might well be worth a try too.