David Crossley's Wide World of Wine

Recent Wines April 2025 (Part 1) #theglouthatbindsus

Posted on 01/05/2025 by dccrossley

I promised last time out that April would be a bumper month. We had a couple of lots of wine-loving visitors which nudged the total of wines for the month to above twenty, and the eighteen that made the cut will be covered in three parts, six wines in each. There’s plenty of diversity as usual, from inexpensive refreshment to stately old classics. Here, in Part One, we have a qvevri wine from the Barossa, a superb Savoie Jacquère (a merchant recommendation), a long-forgotten Dão rediscovered, a Martinborough Pinot Noir over ten years old, one of my favourite Alsace wines and a Carricante white wine from Etna.

I hope some of these bottles pique your interest, but I promise that there will be some stunning wines in Parts Two and Three to follow.

Field White 2019, Alkina (Barossa, South Australia)

Alkina is based at Greenock, and their mission is to make “terroir wines” over in the Western Barossa Ranges. Alkina is an indigenous Australian name meaning “moon” or “moonlight”, which they say embodies their respect for the land and the forces of nature. The farm was established by Argentinian vintner, Alejandro Bulgheroni, working with winemaker Amelia Nolan, in 2015. The farm is based on old 19^th Century buildings and a vineyard planted in the 1950s. There are 43 hectares, farmed organically.

Field White is made from old vines, those 1950s plantings, fermented on skins with natural yeasts in a 700-litre Georgian qvevri (the estate also uses a lot of Italian amphorae for other wines, so they like clay/terracotta, and I believe some of this wine may have been made in amphora as well). The blend is primarily Semillon, but with 5% comprising Riesling and Doradillo (known as Doradilla or occasionally Jaén Blanco in its native Spain). Post-fermentation, the qvevri was topped-up and sealed. A small addition of sulphur was made immediately prior to bottling.

This is clearly an “orange wine” judging by its deep and luminescent amber hue. The bouquet strikes as lime and green apples, but the palate shouts salinity. The finish is textured and I’m now nervous of calling it a slate-like texture (see my previous article), but it does have a sharpness of texture which I would not describe as acidity. There are acids but they are juicy/fruity acids. Smooth fruit over a textured base.

It seems to me that this bottling is quite unique in Australia in that I could mistake it for a Georgian wine. It does, on second glance, have a Barossa feel, perhaps the 13.8% alcohol (the label says) assists us there. It’s a very good wine. It impressed me enough at the “Clay Wine” tasting in February to go out and grab a bottle. It isn’t really a wine for knocking back, though, more for contemplative sipping. The label art is by traditional artist Damon Coulthard of the Adnyamathandha Nation.

I purchased this retail from Raeburn Fine Wines in Edinburgh, who also import Alkina. Expect to pay between £30-£40.

Avant La Trompête 2022, Vin de Savoie, Camille & Mathieu Apffel (Savoie, France)

I can’t speak for everyone, but I’ve learnt to trust the recommendations of certain wine merchants, one’s who appear to know my tastes. This is a wine from a producer I’d never come across, but I bought it on such a recommendation, and of course I didn’t regret it.

This couple are based at St Baldoph, which is just north of the AOC Aprémont, or if you prefer, just south of Chambéry. Mathieu took over the cellar of a retiring winemaker (Denis Fortin/Domaine de Rouzan) in 2017, Camille joining in 2020. They farm 3ha in Aprémont and a couple of hectares in the Combe de Savoie. Mathieu is a Jura native and worked at Domaine Pignier (one of whose wines we shall meet in Part 2).

Jacquère was always seen as the boring, sometimes workhorse, grape of Savoie but that has changed, and it is mostly through natural winemaking that this has happened. Mathieu converted to organics in 2018 and is now making natural wines with minimal intervention. I don’t know about all his cuvées, but this one has zero added sulphur.

Even from the first sniff you suspect that this has a certain Alpine dryness, and you also get some characteristic herbal notes. Speaking of character, there’s an inordinate amount of it in this wine, way more than you might expect from the variety. Doubtless it’s down to careful viticulture and those methods which leave the wine alone to do its own thing. The wine has some texture, and a lot of tension. It’s a genuinely gorgeous wine, taut but hinting at a restrained opulence.

This was recommended and sold to me by Spry Wines in Edinburgh (£33). Newcomer Wines is the importer. As Newcomer expands outwards from Austria, increasingly into France, they are finding some gems.

Dão Tinto Colheita 2020, Quinta dos Roques (Dão, Portugal)

This is an estate whose wines I drank many years ago, but I haven’t purchased any since perhaps ten or more years ago. I spotted this on the shelf of a wine shop I occasionally pop into (as one does), having failed to find a couple of wines I usually gravitate towards in there. I’m very glad to reacquaint myself with this producer.

The estate, ten kilometres south of Mangualde, was effectively founded, in wine terms, at the end of the 1970s by the Roques de Oliveira family. They persisted with local varieties despite pressure at the time to go international, and their commitment to quality has led to most commentators hailing them as being a major part of the Dão renaissance, along with sustainable and regenerative viticulture in Portugal’s oldest appellation.

Luis Lourenço, a former maths teacher, is now in charge and he has updated the winery but kept the old stone lagares in place alongside the computerised cooling and other modern additions.

This Tinto is a blend of Touriga Nacional, Jaen, Alfocheiro, Tinta Roriz and Tinto Cão, from vineyards at the heart of the region, both physically and metaphorically, on granite for what it’s worth. This red is I suppose an entry level wine. It is fermented in tank and aged in wood, barriques mostly, of which some are new and some older.

You get deep flavours of dark fruits, and intense but silky texture, with a good bit of grip. We drank this with Lebanese-style flatbreads, spiced and with Greek-style yoghurt and pomegranate seeds. It was a very good match. It proves that Portuguese wines are really such good value too.

Much as I try to buy new and different wines, I’m finding it quite hard to stop myself going back for more. Just £21-ish from Lockett Brothers. Quinta dos Roques wines are available through Raymond Reynolds, and I’ve seen various cuvées at Oxford Wine Co, Hedonism, Fortnums, and The Wine Society. I used to buy them from Butlers Wine Cellar in Brighton, who are known (like Raymond Reynolds, of course) as a Portuguese specialist, and they currently list three wines from the same stable.

Martinborough Pinot Noir 2014, Kusuda (Martinborough, New Zealand)

This is a wine I’ve cellared a long time. Hiro Kusuda studied law and then went to work for Fujitsu, but a corporate life was not his dream. He trained at Geisenheim in Germany but decided to settle in New Zealand in 2001, establishing himself in Martinborough, at the southern end of the North Island.

At the time, this region was beginning to get a reputation as the place to watch for Pinot Noir, the original Martinborough Estate (est 1980) blazing a trail to stardom in the preceding decade, along with Clive Paton’s Ata Rangi. Both estates took good advantage of the reasonably low rainfall (for North Island, where Martinborough is its dryest part) and well-drained gravel/shingle terraces.

What perhaps singles Hiro Kusuda out is that he was, as far as I can recall, the first Japanese winemaker to make a big splash on the world wine stage. He shares with a number of his compatriots working internationally a determination to make world class wines. For Kusuda, his real interest was Pinot Noir, of which he has around 4-ha to play with.

Viticulture is really meticulous and at harvest the fruit is sorted berry by berry. This 2014 was aged in French barriques for fifteen months (26% new) and for this vintage he produced 6,221 bottles. Colour-wise, it’s in the paler spectrum for the variety, but not too pale. The bouquet is magical, ethereal, a mix of red fruits, maybe a hint of something darker, and plenty of savoury elements. The palate still has structure but the fruit is smooth and silky. Very long, very impressive. Well worth ageing.

You can still find this vintage around. Mine probably came from Berry Brothers (no idea of the price), who still list some by the case. Lay & Wheeler seem to have bottles (£165). If you do buy a more recent vintage, I presume it will age well if you let it.

Red Z’Epfig 2020, Lambert Spielmann/Domaine in Black (Alsace, France)

As this is one of my favourite Alsace wines from one of my favourite producers, I find it hard to let my last bottle go. Thankfully an order via Cork & Cask in Edinburgh furnished me with some 2023, so this was popped with friends to spread the joy. Lambert has a small domaine of around three hectares at Epfig, with further small parcels at Dambach-la-Ville, Obernai, Nothalten and Reichsfeld.

Most of these parcels are surrounded by nature and Lambert’s focus is very much on things like biodiversity and regenerative farming. He’s also one of the young vignerons in Alsace with an interest in agro-forestry, which I first saw for myself in 2017 at Domaine Durrmann.

This red, despite its allusion to Led Zeppelin, is not heavy. It’s a light and juicy blend of equal parts Pinot Noir and Pinot Gris, a blend which has become somewhat fashionable among the younger producers. You can see why, it’s total glouglou gorgeousness in a glass.

The vines are 30 years old. All the fruit was co-fermented as whole bunches for ten days before pressing into used oak. Ageing therein was for just nine months. It really is all about those vibrant red fruit flavours, which are explosive on both the nose and palate. There’s just enough texture to hold it down on the ground, rather than allowing it to take off like a balloon into the sunset.

If you are wondering how feral it is, yes, a little bit. Not one for the naysayers. But for me it is merely close to the edge, not leaping over it. Also, this is proof that natural wine can age and last as well as conventionally-made wines with all their life-inhibitors.

Lambert’s track to listen along with (there’s always one on the back label, him being a musician as well as winemaker) is Maggy Bolle’s “Les Enculés”. My 2023 from Cork & Cask cost £30. Tutto Wines is the importer.

Etna Bianco 2022, Az Ag Tornatore (Etna, Sicily, Italy)

This is a large producer, the largest estate on Sicily, so its not at first glance the sort of wine you’d expect me to write about. I took a fancy to it in a well-known Italian emporium, in part because I’d not really spotted any Etna white wine for ages. Whilst we are well aware that red wines of genuine class are made on the mountain’s volcanic slopes, the white wines often get ignored.

Tornatore farms a massive one hundred hectares of vines, but this producer, founded back in 1850, claims a commitment to sustainable viticulture which includes renewable energy as well as the usual biodiversity, lower interventions etc.

This bianco is made from 100% Carricante, a variety so autochthonous to Etna that it is claimed to have been growing on its slopes for more than a thousand years. It’s quite rare to find Carricante outside of Sicily. Although it can produce acidic wines from high yields, it is at its best at altitude, and the grapes for this wine come from above 650 masl, near Castigliano di Sicilia. This quality improvement is due to the diurnal temperature variations at this altitude, which allow for a slower and longer ripening cycle, where acids are retained into a later harvest, but are not dominant.

This cuvée undergoes harvest by hand off the slopes of Etna. The grapes are destemmed before a slow and gentle crush. Post-fermentation the wine spends three months on the fine lees. Pale straw in colour, the bouquet has grapefruit, crisp green apple and herbs. The palate is crisp, and others have described it as particularly mineral, with savoury touches, but it also has a little honeyed and creamy texture to it, assisted by that time spent on lees. It’s not a heavy wine (just 12.5% abv) but it isn’t insubstantial.

So, this isn’t a natural wine, and it isn’t an artisan wine, but I did enjoy it and thought it very good value. And I like Carricante. Hence its inclusion here. I can no longer afford to drink £350+ worth of wine per month, and at £22.50 from Valvona & Crolla (Edinburgh) this was worth the punt.

Taste the Limestone, Smell the Slate by Alex Maltman (Book Review)

Posted on 25/04/2025 by dccrossley

Between 2010 and 2016 I subscribed to wine’s perhaps most serious journal, World of Fine Wine. On occasion I was able to see my own words on their pages, but back then it was, mostly if not entirely, a bastion of classical thinking, at its most extreme in the quarterly tirades against natural wine which French wine luminary Michel Bettane gave in his column. It was probably the cost of the journal which led me to allow my subscription to lapse after six years, but good old Michel didn’t help matters. Despite all of Michel’s musings, World of Fine Wine was, and remains, at the cutting edge of commentary and research on the wide world of wine.

I am grateful to World of Fine Wine for introducing me to two writers whom I might never have otherwise come across. One was Barry Smith, whose work on sensory perception has been of genuine importance to the world of wine, and Alex Maltman, a geologist whose equal passion for rocks and wine goes back to his student days. He now has twenty vines from which he makes wine in his garden in Wales, where he remains Emeritus Professor of Earth Sciences at Aberystwyth University.

Alex has become wine’s geologist, so to speak, so intertwined have his passions become. He has contributed to both seminal works The World Atlas of Wine and the Oxford Companion to Wine. This is his second “wine book”, the first being Vineyards, Rocks and Soils… (OUP 2018). Professor Maltman has become the leading exponent of bringing a reality check to the notion that rocks are directly ingested by vines, and so the direct taste of bedrock cannot be sensed in the glass. Or, as the aforementioned Professor Smith more bluntly put it more generally, “The idea that you can taste minerals from the soil is absolute rubbish” (quoted in Simms, Grape Expectations, New Scientist May 2015).

People once thought that vines lived by effectively eating the soil. The discovery of photosynthesis blew that idea out of the water. As for the soils in a vineyard, they usually bear little relation in time or place to the underlying bedrock, having been deposited, eroded (for example by ice age glacial action), and then deposited anew, much later. And anyway, we know as fact that most rock is neither soluble, nor can it form a gas (via vaporisation). So, we can’t taste or smell it. Even flint, when it strikes in a flintlock rifle, because what we smell (not that I suppose many of us ever smell the discharge of a flintlock these days) is the gunpowder, not the flint.

Nevertheless, one of wine’s fashionable obsessions at the moment is “minerality”. Maltman points out that geology was almost never mentioned by wine writers until relatively recently. I don’t know who began our rush to describe “minerality” in wines, but I do clearly remember Rhône specialist John Livingstone-Learmonth’s “STGT” (soil to glass transfer) club, which he describes (Wines of the Northern Rhône, UCP 2005) as producers like Auguste Clape of Cornas, where “For years, their wines have quietly brought forth the truth about their vineyard…”.

Today, minerals, rocks and strata get a mention in almost every tasting note I read (and indeed many I write myself). Just this week, an Instagram post by my favourite Swiss producer, Marie-Thérèse Chappaz, mentioned an article by Roberto Sironi highlighting the granite her vines rest upon (Fully e Martigny, L’enclave granitica del Valese). But if you read this book, and I hope you will because it’s one of the most exciting and stimulating books I’ve read on any subject for a while, many of your preconceived notions about rocks and wine will be questioned. Just don’t expect the outcome to be simple.

The contents of the book follow a fairly broad approach comprising introductory thoughts followed by a more detailed look at the range of bedrock types on which vines grow around the world. Granite, Tufa and its soundalikes, Shale/slate/schist, clay, and of course limestone.

If you think about it, there are many famous European wines which are completely synonymous with certain types of rock in popular perception. The Mosel and slate, Champagne and chalk (to a degree), Burgundy and limestone, Sancerre and Pouilly and flint, Central Baden’s Kaiserstuhl and volcanic rocks. Of course, let’s not forget Sherry on its white albariza soils, often described as chalk in some articles, but it is in fact “white, marly soils rich in calcareous plankton” called diatoms.

We tend to forget that these certainties often differ outside of Europe, and in any case, to use one example, more Champagne vineyards sit above rocks that are not chalk. To give another example, we often pair Syrah and Gamay with granite. In the Northern Rhône, Hermitage is by no means all granite, neither is Côte Rôtie granite (though Condrieu, planted exclusively to Viognier, is). By far the larger part of the Beaujolais region is not granite, that so-called perfect match with Gamay, although in general it does predominate in the Crus. Such pairings are not wrong per se, but we need to be careful of generalisations.

The content of the book is in places detailed, and we do learn plenty of science, but Alex always expands our knowledge outwards too. The author is able to combine academic rigour with a wider perspective coming from his deep knowledge of wine (viticulture and winemaking). I guess what I’m trying to convey is that Alex writes well, and taking on the science is no burden at all.

We also learn about many of the people who made the discoveries that took geology and viticulture forward. There’s a whole chapter on James Busby, who most wine lovers who have visited Australian vineyards may well have come across (along with those well-versed in New Zealand history). This chapter, however, perhaps tells us more about what he didn’t actually achieve (the man and the myth). Another fascinating story of how wine myths can emerge.

I would also highlight the chapter called “Winescape UK”. All of my readers in Great Britain will certainly find Maltman’s geological journey through our islands extremely helpful, perhaps especially in detailing the mixed geology underpinning Southern England’s sparkling wine production (including the chalk versus greensand debate), and some pointers as to why places like the Crouch Valley in Essex might be that sought after Grail for red wine. You won’t taste the thick layer of London Clay in your Crouch Valley Pinot Noir, but many of its properties combine with the warm, sunny and dry climate here to make red wine production qualitatively profitable.

For rock fans: the book is littered like scree with photos like this

As is typical in this book, it’s not all about the bedrock. Kaolin (continuing the clay theme) is a specific type of clay, and it is perhaps most famous for its use in making fine porcelain, the first European samples having been smuggled out of “Kaulin” in China’s Jiangxi Province by Jesuit priests. It later turned out, fortuitously for the English, French and German fine porcelain industries, that the same clay could be dug up in Haute-Vienne, Cornwall and near Meissen.

But kaolin also has many cosmetic applications. For vines, the spraying of comminuted kaolin particles onto vine leaves not only acts as an effective sunscreen in regions with high ultraviolet radiation, but it also helps promote more even ripening. In Australia’s Granite Belt (Queensland), where an estimated 15% of the crop can be lost to sun burn, it has proved invaluable.

To further question the arguments of those who suggest rocks influence wine’s flavour, the chapter “Four Elephants in the Wine Room” looks at what it says on the tin, four factors which have a major impact on wine taste. These are soils, rootstock selection, choice of yeasts, and ambient factors affecting taste perceptions, all of which could be argued have a far greater impact on the taste of wine than the underlying vineyard geology.

A slice of Coonawarra Terra Rossa

Nevertheless, as writers, we persist with the geology. Perhaps weirdly named rootstocks and commercial yeasts are far less exciting for our readers than rocks, and personally I do think vineyard geology does capture the imagination. It helps paint a picture of the landscape, irrespective of any effect on the grapes grown above it, and today I believe readers are more interested in a wine’s story than in a tasting note. This is, at least, my own modus for writing about wine, by-and-large. If a wine sounds interesting enough, then I feel sure my readers will go taste it for themselves.

All of this said, geology is far from irrelevant, despite science telling us that vines take more life and vigour from gasses in the air, from sunshine and from judicious watering (by rain or irrigation). Geology naturally has a major impact on water retention and availability for the vine, and in some cases soil matter and rain can react with bedrock to exploit fissures and cracks, enabling vines to delve deeper to find moisture. This is especially true in vineyards underpinned with limestone and some clay.

Whilst nutrients from below come via humus in the soil rather than direct transfer of minerals from rocks, there is also the question of mycorrhizal networks (the symbiotic association between a fungus and a plant, the fungus giving the plant moisture and nutrients in exchange for sugars from those plants).

The study of the workings of these networks is in its relative infancy. However, for such networks to thrive, or even exist, you do need to have “living soils” of the type more likely found in a vineyard which has not been sprayed by synthetic pesticides and herbicides, and where the soil hasn’t been compacted by heavy machinery, so that the creatures that keep the soil living can exist and thrive, as opposed to a vineyard the subject of napalm death.

So why do we persist in explaining which rocks vines are planted on top of almost every time we describe a vineyard? The idea that we can taste those rocks is scientifically unlikely at best, but yet there is the power of metaphor. This is what I feel validates the use of descriptions of minerality in all its forms in a tasting note.

We say wines smell of cherries or grapefruit, or taste of quince and melon. Naturally they do not contain these fruits, but at least here there is a scientific basis for such descriptions in the compounds shared between these fruits and the finished wine. Minerality is a more nuanced metaphor, usually coming from either something we find hard otherwise to describe as a smell, and certainly as texture on the palate.

One obvious and often used metaphor, one I remember from my own childhood, is the smell of blackboard chalk in the classroom, something I suspect has been confined to the past by modern classroom technology. It would be easy to suggest that when we say a wine is “chalky”, perhaps we are thinking of a vague recollection of “chalk dust” from a blackboard duster often directed, as a projectile, in anger at a child unable to answer the teacher’s question sufficiently quickly (the least painful of many classroom punishments in the arsenal of our teachers back then). I bet you don’t know that classroom chalk is made from the mineral gypsum (calcium sulphate), so it isn’t chalk in that sense at all. The rock called chalk is not dusty.

To justify my use of mineral allusion I always wheel out my experience, one I will never forget (or perhaps be allowed to) whilst hiking up to a mountain refuge in the Val d’Aosta. For me, this is my own justification for utilising mineral descriptions, despite accepting that you cannot “taste” a rock. You might have read it before, but it’s an oldie and a goodie and so worth wheeling out again.

We had a bottle of local wine, Vin Blanc de Morgex et de la Salle, made from the Prié Blanc variety. Stopping for a picnic lunch, which certainly contained some artisan Fontana cheese, I wedged the bottle in a cold mountain steam which tumbled down from what was an ever-shrinking (on every visit) small glacier. It didn’t take long to chill. Morgex doesn’t have a particularly big bouquet, merely herbal, and it tastes (pleasantly, I should state) like a herb-infused mineral water. However, the wine had a texture which reminded me of the pebbles on which the bottle sat. I couldn’t resist taking a smooth pebble from the water and proving my theory by licking it.

I was not tasting the pebble as such, but my tongue was experiencing a texture. Lucky that the base of the stream wasn’t flint, or I’d probably have cut my tongue. It was also fortuitous that being at some altitude meant the water was less likely to have been contaminated by the local (and then considerable) marmot population. But I think this experience does shine a light on how rocks may have at least a tenuously valid place in wine tasting. I was able to relive that moment with Proustian perfection just last month, on opening a bottle of Morgex I’d fortuitously picked up at Raeburn’s.

“It’s been a long time since I rock and rolled” (Geological Time Chart on p169)

In summary, I feel I need to repeat what I have already said near the beginning of this article. This is a brilliant book. I have to declare an interest in geography and geology. Not only was Geography (along with History) one of my two favourite subjects at school (with associated field trips to areas like the limestone scenery of the Yorkshire Dales and the Jurassic Coast of Dorset very much enjoyed), but I was brought up close to the remains of an extinct volcano, lived for twenty-eight years on the chalk and flint of the South Downs, and now live among more volcanic rocks and sandstones of some complexity in Scotland.

All of that said, I’d go so far as to say that this book would be a stimulating read even for those wine lovers with, on the face of it, much less of an interest in geology than my own. I’d venture you don’t have to be a total wine geek like I am to find it a stimulating read either. In my own case, it’s difficult to contain my enthusiasm. I think a lot of my readers would enjoy it, and I mean “enjoy”, not merely find it illuminating (which, of course, they will).

Taste the Limestone, Smell the Slate by Alex Maltman has just been published (2025) by the Academie du Vin Library, and is available through good independent book shops, via the popular online sources (if you must), or direct from the publisher via their web site at www.academieduvinlibrary.com for £35. It’s a nicely produced hardback of just over 300pp with quality binding and some lovely photos.

My copy was kindly provided by Academie du Vin Library for review, but I hope my genuine enthusiasm speaks for itself. For me it will unquestionably be one of my wine books of 2025.

Posted in Geology and Wine, Minerals and Wine, Subjectivity in Wine Tasting, Tasting Wine, Viticulture, Wine, Wine Books, Wine Science, Wine Writing | Tagged Académie du Vin Library, Geology and Wine, Kaolin as a Wine Sunscreen, Minerality Debate, Minerals as Metaphor in Wine Tasting, Professor Alex Maltman, Properties of Wine's Underlying Bedrock, Rocks and Wine, Taste the Limestone Smell the Slate (Review), Vine Nutrient Uptake, Vineyard Soils, Wine Book Review, Wine Geology of Great Britain, Wine writing | 4 Comments

Recent Wines March 2025 (Part 2) #theglouthatbindsus

Posted on 09/04/2025 by dccrossley

We have just another five wines for this second part of my article on the wines we drank at home in March. That’s nearly a “Dry March” for me, but I’m anticipating a very “wet” April, as visiting season is now upon us. We start off with a couple of red wines, a lovely Gamay from Bugey and a Pinot Noir from another of Alsace’s finest natural winemakers (see Part 1). Then comes a remarkable wine made in Wales from Somerset fruit, with more than a little hint of Arbois to it. Next is a super Hungarian Kékfrankos, before we finish in the cool climate of the Leicestershire Wolds and a white wine which, in its delicacy, surely exemplifies its terroir. All exciting stuff, I assure you.

Les Noirettes Gamay 2021, Domaine d’Ici Là (Bugey, France)

My third different cuvée from this young couple, Adrien Bariol and Florie Brunet, and I have another (their Chardonnay) in the cellar. It isn’t because they make wine at Groslée-St-Benoît (in France, when I tell people my family name, they often think I’m saying “Groslée”), but because I’ve become rather taken with their wines, and this fits in rather well with my constant proselytizing for this small but lovely region between the Jura and Savoie.

Bugey is made up of two sectors, which are fairly distinct. Domaine d’Ici Là is in the southern sector, which is closer to Savoie. In fact, Adrien and Florie make a very nice Mondeuse, the quintessential Savoie red grape, which was probably the first of their wines I tasted. Gamay is common to both parts of the appellation, in the north taking over from Poulsard these days. The Gamay vines here were planted in 1979, on argilo-calcaire-based soils (a limestone and clay mix).

The grapes are given a short carbonic fermentation before ageing in concrete tank. The result, as you’d expect, has light and zippy cherry fruit. This wine is all about that cherry fruit, which is both bursting with lively freshness, but equally, is focused. Definitely a wine that however simple you find it, is unquestionably sensuous as well.

Imported by Modal Wines, my bottle came from Cork & Cask in Edinburgh, where locals may also find wines from Adrien and Florie at Spry Wines. The current vintage at Modal Wines is the 2023, and costs £30. I think I was lucky enough to pay a pre-Brexity £23 for my ’21!

Granite de Dambach-la-Ville Rouge 2022, Florian & Mathilde Beck-Hartweg (Alsace, France)

As in Part One, we have another wine from Alsace, but this time a red. When I first visited Alsace (at the end of the eighties, and then in the early nineties), most local red wine was light and fairly insubstantial. That has now been turned on its head. As Baden, over the river, began to turn out serious Pinot Noir, Alsace got the message.

There were always exceptions though (I remember Muré standing out for Pinot grown on the Vorbourg Grand Cru between Soultzmatt and Westhalten), and really, it was just a question of producer commitment to red wine, and being prepared to work to overcome expectations. Just as was the case with Sylvaner, as we saw in Part One.

The Beck-Hartweg vines at Dambach-la-Ville, centred on the Falkstein Grand Cru, are on terroir which has been in the family since 1590, but Florian and Mathilde, in charge since Florian’s parents retired in 2010, have brought in a new philosophy, where living soils and biodiversity are at the heart of everything. As fellow producer Yannick Meckert says in Camilla Gjerda’s book, Natural Trailblazers. “Florian is someone who practices what he preaches”.

It’s worth describing in a short paragraph what this means to Florian. As well as putting biodiversity at the heart of the domaine, it’s primarily about limiting their carbon footprint, whether by agro-forestry, walking, cycling or at worst using an electric vehicle (but Florian has even worked out when a car powered by fossil fuels will, counter-intuitively, have less impact than electric). For these producers looking at these issues, if sadly for us, it means also limiting exports!

This is something I’m coming across more and more, especially from growers in Alsace and Jura. How this squares with other artisan producers who are having difficulties selling all their wine, something caused not by quality, or by large crops, but by crippling costs affecting both producer and consumer, I’m not sure. Nevertheless, increasing numbers of artisan winemakers are no longer keen for their wines to travel the world, whilst others see exports as safer than reliance on moribund local markets.

I digress. The grapes for this red, all Pinot Noir from two distinct parcels called Pfirdel and Rebbronn, which sit at the bottom of the slope, are carefully destemmed before they undergo a one-week maceration. Ageing is for eleven months in stainless steel. It’s a fully natural, zero-zero wine with no added sulphur.

You can tell how ripe the fruit is, and the wine has what I’d call a really nice rusticity to it. There’s a crisp and crunchy structure, which seems to bring to mind “granite” for sure. It looks darker in the glass than much Alsace Pinot Noir, and seems plumper than you might expect from a wine aged in stainless steel. It does have a lovely purity.

You know how I like to drink widely, and these days I’m mostly buying just single bottles, but this is a wine I’d definitely like to drink again, and I’d drink it within days if I had another bottle. It’s youthful, but really tasty. It cost me around £30 retail from Communiqué Wines in Edinburgh, and it is imported by Vine Trail, who have one of the most extensive portfolios for natural wines from Alsace in the UK.

TAM 2023, David Morris/Mountain People Wines (Monmouthshire, Wales, via Somerset)

If you found the third and final part of my article on the Timberyard Spring Tasting in Edinburgh last month, you will have read about David Morris, former Ancre Hill winemaker of course, who was there showing five wines. Three were made from fruit he buys from a friend in Somerset and two were made from fruit grown at his sites in Monmouthshire, a surprisingly sunny corner of South Wales. TAM, which stands for “This Ain’t Macon”, is made from Somerset-grown Chardonnay fruit.

There appears to have been two different bottlings of this wine in 2023. The bottling I tasted at Timberyard had a different label, one which mirrors the three cuvées made from Somerset fruit under the banner “Cowboys Don’t Have Curls”. The bottle I’m drinking, I was told, came from a more assertive barrel, and I believe David used some high-class Stockinger casks. It sports a very different label. The two bottlings are different, but I don’t think strikingly so.

The fruit is all the result of low intervention viticulture. It is shipped swiftly up to the winery, only a couple of hours drive away. Here it is fermented and aged in said Stockinger barrel for 12 months on lees. Alcohol sits at just 10.5%. No sulphur was added, and fewer than 300 bottles were made.

There’s plenty of concentrated lemon and lime fruit and great freshness, but there’s also a deliberate slightly oxidative note. This is why I call this “TAMIA” (this ain’t Macon, it’s Arbois). If you read my Timberyard piece you will recall that I told David this reminded me very much of a Stéphane Tissot Chardonnay. David told me that by coincidence he had visited Stéphane, whose wines I have known since the early 1990s, after he had returned to his parents’ domaine following wine studies and working overseas. Stéphane and his wife, Bénédicte, make natural Chardonnay which, being so pure and clean, you might well not imagine they are “natural” wines at all.

This is a beautiful wine. It knocked me back when I tasted it at Timberyard, and this so-called “more assertive” bottling is at least as good if not better. If you find any, grab it, with the caveat that this bottle cost me £37 at Cork & Cask, and I think the version I first tasted is available at Spry Wines now for £40, both in Edinburgh. For distribution, contact Carte Blanche Wines in England and Wales, and Element Wines in Scotland.

A Change of Heart 2022, Annamária Réka-Koncz (Mátra, Hungary)

Many readers will know that of all the wines from Hungary I drink, by far the most are from this producer, making artisan wines close to the eastern border with Ukraine. I’m very fond indeed of Annamária’s wines, but this may be the first I’ve opened this year.

This is a red cuvée made from Kékfrankos grapes, which is of course the Hungarian name for the variety perhaps more widely known as Blaufränkisch, its Austrian synonym. These are old vines, forty-to-sixty years old, grown on volcanic andesite. Around half the batch received a gentle crush followed by a five-day maceration. The rest are fully destemmed and then layered as whole grapes and crushed berries, then, after 14 days, these are gently crushed in a basket press. Everything is aged in stainless steel.

The bouquet is pure ripe cherries with a strong hint of lifted raspberry. The palate shows vibrant red cherries which prickle on the tongue. This wine has had more than a couple of years since harvest and it’s currently tasting fruit-driven yet with a bit of grip and structure. It has a nice balance between youth and something beginning to mature, and it’s in a good place to drink right now. I love its lip-smacking, delicious, fruit with a classic Kékfrankos bite to end with on the finish.

Purchased direct from importer Basket Press Wines on their online shop, this 2022 cost me £30. They tell me that the new shipment from ARK should hopefully arrive in May or early June. I can guarantee that this red will be among the wines I order from the new vintage when they do.

Hedge Line 2023, Matt Gregory (Leicestershire Wolds, England)

Matt Gregory is one of the bravest winemakers in England, and also one of the most innovative. He has to be because he has chosen to make wine over three hectares of limestone mixed with complex glacial deposits on the slopes at Walton Brook Vineyard, located in the Leicestershire Wolds. This is an area of mainly arable farmland which in effect sits astride the Leicestershire/Rutland border. His bravery goes beyond location because, despite this area’s propensity to be occasionally cold, windy and wet, Matt makes low intervention wines.

Matt farms mostly Pinots Gris and Noir plus Bacchus, along with a mixed 2,500-vine planting of Solaris, Seyval Blanc, Regent and Madeleine Angevine, all farmed organically, although being in the middle of conventionally-farmed arable land, he won’t be able to get certification. It is the last four of those varieties in the mixed planting that make this particular cuvée.

It’s named after a hedgerow Matt is crowdfunding to increase biodiversity and provide wind protection. My father lives in Leicestershire, and I know all too well how the wind can whip across that countryside.

It’s a sad fact that many of the hedges were ripped out in the east of England in order to allow for larger arable fields suitable for mechanisation. Many of the traditional copses of trees have gone as well. They used to provide habitat for birds which in turn ate the insects, but agro-chemicals have caused the bird populations to plumet, with insecticides now necessary to do the job the birdlife did for free, and at less cost to the farmer and to human health. Matt is fighting that trend.

The 2023 vintage was generally a wet one which meant Matt had to work hard to fight disease without synthetics, and I should note that Matt is said to be a master of canopy management. But wind at least helps fight diseases caused by dampness, and a wonderful two-week spell of sunshine in September saved the day, and he ended up with a larger crop than usual.

Hedge Line is a wine of quite unique flavours. In part, this is down to the low 9.5% alcohol. The fruit did see skin contact, but the wine is pale straw in colour and delicate, not tannic at all. It saw fifteen months on lees in tank. Some of you will know Matt worked with Theo Coles (Hermit Ram) in North Canterbury, New Zealand. It’s what flagged-up Matt to me, as Theo is my favourite NZ winemaker. Theo commented on Hedge Line that it “tastes just like my Salty White, cheeky sod”. It does, so a few readers might imagine what this tastes like. As an aside to Theo, teach a bloke your tricks and what do you expect, mate?

Actually, it is a delicate wine, and as much as anything it tastes of delicate English apples. I won’t go as far as to name the variety, but I’m definitely thinking English rather than brasher, crisper, New Zealand ones (seeks appropriate emoji here!). It also has both floral scents and herbal notes, but everything in gentle measure. It’s lovely, and hardly tastes alcoholic at all, a real contrast to what I’m expecting from the 14% abv skin contact white wine I shall be opening in a couple of hours.

This bottle came direct from Matt. Matt Gregory Wines is now with a new distributor, Wines Under the Bonnet. They have added Matt to what is a very fine lineup of small, artisan, UK winemakers. Hedge Line should hopefully be available, Matt says, by Easter.

Posted in Alsace, Artisan Wines, Bugey, English Wine, Hungarian Wine, Natural Wine, Welsh Wine, Wine, Wine Agencies | Tagged #theglouthatbindsus, Adrien Bariol & Florie Brunet winemakers, Annamaria Reka-Koncz Barabas Hungary, Beck-Hartweg Dambach-la-Ville, Bugey, Cowboys Don't Have Curls, David Morris Mountain People Wine, Domaine d'Ici Là Bugey, Florian & Mathilde Beck-Hartweg Alsace, Granite de Dambach-la-Ville Rouge 2022, Kékfrankos, Les Noirettes Gamay Domaine d'Ici Là, Matt Gregory Hedge Line Blend 2023, Matt Gregory Wines Leicestershire Wolds, Mátra Wine, Natural Wine, Réka-Koncz A Change of Heart 2022, Recent Wines March 2025 (Pt 2), TAM (This Ain't Macon) 2023, Welsh Wine, Wine from Leicestershire, Wine in Monmouthshire Wales | 1 Comment

Recent Wines March 2025 (Part 1) #theglouthatbindsus

Posted on 04/04/2025 by dccrossley

March has been a quieter month, so just ten wines, five in each part. It’s not so much the alcohol as the cost of wine now, as my last article explained. That said, with various wine-loving guests coming to stay, starting today, who knows what the cellar will look like by the end of April. Actually, I’m not complaining. I prefer to be able to share good wine. All these upcoming guests usually bring a bottle or two, and I’ve been promised some Swiss wine from our first overseas visitors of the season. I can tell you, that makes me very happy indeed.

Part One, here, starts off with a wine from Aosta, yet another wine region (like Lavaux, Valais, Deutschschweiz…) I can’t really find enough of in the UK. Then we go to Moravia, Alsace, McLaren Vale and Northern Burgundy. As usual, every wine here warrants inclusion, but that last wine is something very special.

Blanc de Morgex et de la Salle 2018, Maison Vevey Albert (Aosta, Italy)

I’ve posted reviews of a number of Morgex etc wines here before, but this is a new producer for me, and a bottle whose label I admit to seeing a few times online, but had never tasted. This is a wine from that part of the Aosta Valley that is closest to the Mont Blanc Tunnel. It’s often stated that this wine with a long name grows “in the shadow of Mont Blanc”, and whilst that isn’t exactly true (in fact, the grapes are often in bright sunshine as the Vevey vines climb well over 1,000 masl), they are not far away, pretty close to the ski resort of Courmayeur.

The variety is 100% Prié Blanc. It is supposedly the first variety documented by name in the region, a true autochthone of the valley. The vines Albert Vevey planted are now quite old, and most of them are ungrafted, grown on their own rootstocks. They grow on steep terraces which are difficult to work and this tiny sub-appellation gets an even tinier mention in the World Atlas of Wine. It’s a wonder any of those bottles that are imported here get bought, but they deserve to be.

Albert’s two sons now run the winery, where they make wines from just this one variety, turning out a small but commercially important for the village, six-to-seven-thousand bottles a year. Generally, you will just find the dry white on shelves, if you are very lucky, as we have here, but under the Morgex et de la Salle label there is also sparkling wine and a sweet wine. Here at Maison Vevey, they freeze the grapes for the sweet wine, like an ice wine (Vin de Glace), and call it “Flapi”.

This dry Morgex is a yellow-green colour, there’s a definite green tinge to it. Not quite Green Chartreuse green, but definitely green. The bouquet shows herb and citrus oil. The palate has a textured dryness. I once published a tasting note on a wine forum of the local co-operative’s Vin Blanc de Morgex, suggesting it tasted like a smooth pebble in a mountain stream. I didn’t convince many, but it’s not so far-fetched as the bottle had been cooled in a stream up above the valley on a refuge walk from just above Valgrisenche, on the edge of the Gran Paradiso National Park.

Think fresh citrus acids, an almost resinous mouthfeel, with a pebbly-textured softness. Some UK sources suggest that this should have been drunk by 2023, but that is just inexperience. Ask anyone in Aosta and they will say Prié Blanc can age for ten-to-twenty years. Its acids keep it alive, and it is never a “fruity” wine. For me, it really reflects its mountain origins. And those mountains! Definitely a region of high-altitude walking, castles, great food, a bit of skiing and Roman ruins, with wines you almost never see outside of Italy. Aosta is Italy’s smallest wine region.

I found this by chance at Raeburn Fine Wines in Stockbridge, Edinburgh. This is why I believe in browsing wine shops rather than web sites, where this probably wouldn’t have jumped out at me. They had it for £26, though I have since seen it on sale for up to £34 at other sources. So glad I grabbed one. I may buy another when I’m next down there.

Riesling 2022, Mira Nestarcová (Moravia, Czechia)

Milan Nestarec is probably making the best wines of his career so far, but his wife, who is producing a range of varietal wines from unpruned vines allowed to grow wild, is hard on his heels. Every one of her 2022s has been wonderful so far, and I have just recently taken delivery of some of her 2023s as well.

The couple make their wines in tandem in the village of Velké Bílowice in Southern Moravia. From vines grown on mostly sandy soils, this organic Riesling is, like all those wines made by this family, a natural wine. Mira adds not even sulphur to this cuvée.

The wine is a delicate pale-yellow colour, with a fresh citrus bouquet. Flavours echo lemon and orange, grapefruit and tart apricot, and I’m not the only one to notice mint as well. The ’22 saw some skin contact, but just overnight. You can’t tell from the pale colour, but there is a tiny bit of texture here. Ageing was six months in acacia.

A mineral, I’d call it “chiselled”, wine, beautiful at the same time. The intense fruit flavour is almost off the scale. Energy, salinity, purity…each one of Mira’s wines seems to top the previous one. Actually, they are all (Sauvignon Blanc, Pinot Noir and Cabernet Franc are available) worth looking for, worth the proverbial detour.

Mira is imported by Basket Press Wines, and I bought mine from their online shop. They are now sold out of 2022 and onto the 2023s, which have recently arrived, and the Riesling costs £33. The label continues the dance theme on all her bottles, Mira having previously been a dancer. The photo is of Nijinsky.

Zellberg L’Hermitage Sylvaner 2020, Patrick Meyer (Alsace, France)

Patrick Meyer inherited his mother’s vines at Nothalten and initially rejected what he thought were her “old-fashioned” ways of making wine. He implemented everything he had been taught at wine school and then pretty much realised the error of his ways immediately, when the wines lacked the character and life these sites had previously given them. They seemed attenuated. Fully converted back to the old ways of doing things, Patrick is now a committed proponent of biodynamics, and is making some of the most highly-regarded natural terroir wines in the region.

Patrick does seem to have an affinity with Sylvaner, a variety that is starting to get the attention that it deserves now. This is partly down to it finally being granted Grand Cru status on the Zotzenberg site (near Mittelbergheim), giving it a better profile, but more importantly, a younger generation of winemakers has looked at this variety afresh and overcome the prejudices of the previous generations, who cropped it high and let the acids go awol.

This bottling, from a favoured plot within the Zellberg site, is rich and nutty with fresh apple acidity. Aged on lees in Alsace foudre, and knocking out 13.5% abv, this is both richly complex and challenging, the latter I mean in a good way. On the edge, perhaps, which makes for a thrilling glass. Zero sulphur was added, of course.

Patrick calls it “dissident”, which not only describes it very well, but might just be the best description of a wine I’ve seen all year. However you care to describe it, it sure lingers on the palate a long, long time.

Purchased from Gergovie Wines, £30.50.

The Green Room McLaren Vale Grenache 2022, Ochota Barrels (South Australia)

I drank this remembering Taras, who left us after a long illness in late 2020. He was one of the key movers in that Adelaide Hills revival which saw it become a hotbed for Australian natural wine, maybe “the” hotbed at the time. Much was made of Taras Ochota’s punk rocker and surfer image, but rather than a stereotypically brash Aussie, he was a softly-spoken and thoughtful philosopher of the vine. A truly innovative winemaker.

Luckily, his work is continued by his wife, Amber, and her team, who made this equally innovative Grenache from the Vale’s limestone and schist soils up at around 550 masl. The vines are pretty old, planted in 1946. Around 65% of the crop was whole bunch fermented (the rest destemmed), with different batches spending between 8-23 days on skins, followed by just two months ageing in old French barriques.

The result, as you’d expect, is a super-fresh wine with shining bright red fruits. These are mostly scents and flavours of strawberries, light and delicate (the abv says 11.1%), but there is allegedly a tiny percentage of Syrah in here (which I can’t confirm). Whatever, there’s certainly a nice savoury, herbal, twist here on the finish. A lighter natural wine, much more delicate than the standard impression of McLaren Vale, and a lovely expression of Grenache in all its vibrant fruity glory. You might hate this descriptor, but ”yum” is pretty apt.

I bought this from Communiqué Wines in Edinburgh. I can’t remember what I paid (and as the shop doesn’t yet have its web site, I can’t easily check). Expect to pay retail around £30 or thereabouts, I think, but there won’t be a lot about as not much Green Room Grenache was made. The importer is Indigo Wines.

Nuova Descriptio 2022, Alice & Olivier de Moor (Chablis, France)

The de Moors are special to me as they were among the first natural wine producers I really got into, first finding their Chablis at the Basingstoke factory outlet of Berry Brothers, of all places. It was love at first taste and for some reason they always had some bin-ended when I visited. At the time, it was probably an adventurous selection for the average BBR customer, but I think Jasper was a big fan.

From their base at Courgis, three-or-four kilometres southwest of the town of Chablis, Alice and Olivier have become pioneers not only of natural wine, but of the whole holistic approach to sustainable viticulture. This now includes having been among the first in France to utilise agro-forestry in a viticultural setting.

Alice and Olivier are so much more than Chablis AOP. They have embraced Sauvignon Blanc, renting vines in St Bris, and Aligoté (their old vine Plantation 1902 is arguably the finest Aligoté now being made, so good that even its £50 price tag seems far from ridiculous these days). They have also managed to make exciting wines on their Vendangeur Masqué label from bought-in low intervention fruit.

Nuova Descriptio is, however, something very special, even within the de Moor canon. It blends Sauvignon Blanc from St Bris, in the Auxerrois, Aligoté (vinified with skin contact) and Chardonnay. Very fruity, this is drinking extremely well right now. There are elements of each of the three grape varieties you can identify, but for me it majors on orange peel and ripe peach flesh with a good soft mineral texture.

I understand this might be a one-off cuvée, which would be a shame as it is brilliant. My bottle came from The Solent Cellar at Christmastime last year, and I’m sure they have sold out. They got it via importer Les Caves de Pyrene. There are odd bottles knocking around at the £50 mark, and Roberson in London appeared to have some (for £55) when I looked. Hedonism, surprisingly, list it online at £40. It is well worth seeking this particular cuvée out if you can find some.

Posted in Alsace, Aosta, Artisan Wines, Australian Wine, Burgundy, Italian Wine, Natural Wine, Wine, Wine Agencies, Wine Merchants | Tagged #theglouthatbindsus, Alice & Olivier de Moor Courgis Chablis, Alpine Wine, Aosta, Australian Natural Wine, Chardonnay Sauvignon Blanc Aligoté Burgundy Blend, Czech Riesling, Czech Wine, De Moor Nuova Descriptio 2022, Maison Vevey Albert Aosta Valley, McLaren Vale Grenache, Meyer Zellberg L'Hermitage Sylvaner 2020, Mira Nestarcová Moravia, Moravian Wine, Natural Wine, Nothalten Wine, Patrick Meyer Alsace, Prié Blanc, Recent Wines March 2025 (Pt 1), Taras Ochota, The Green Room Grenache, Valle d'Aoste, Vin Blanc de Morgex et de La Salle | 1 Comment

Rioja by Fintan Kerr – The Smart Traveller’s Wine Guide (Book Review)

Posted on 31/03/2025 by dccrossley

Wine books can be pretty expensive these days, at least the serious wine books you and I read. It’s not always the case. Jamie Goode has found a way to make some of his books affordable, but those published by the big publishers can seriously dent our wine budgets. We buy them because we need (or in some cases, crave) them, to expand our knowledge.

Most of these books remain in our homes, used first for the purpose described above, and then, as we dip in further over time, to check facts or, in my case, research for writing. The number of books we actually take out on the road with us, on a wine trip, is probably more limited. Wink Lorch’s books on Jura and Savoie come to mind as useful books to travel with, but most don’t really lend themselves to travelling light. Even though I’d be unlikely to visit Japan again without Anthony Rose’s book on Sake and that country’s wines in the Infinite Ideas series (now with the same publisher as the book I’m about to review), it’s nevertheless a little heavy for that purpose, and it cost £30.

Now there’s a new series of little books published by the Académie du Vin Library in partnership with the Club Oenologique, under the banner of The Smart Traveller’s Wine Guide. They are a very affordable £12.99 (UK, just $17.95 for US readers). Guides to Rioja and Bordeaux are already available, with Napa, Tuscany, Rhône and Switzerland listed as “coming soon”. There are also, I understand, many more in the pipeline.

The first guide in the series I’ve read is Rioja by Fintan Kerr. I’ve met Fintan on several occasions, even shared a pint with him (as a friend of a friend), but that was all before Covid, when he was running tasting courses in his home city of Barcelona. He still does that, but since then he has become an established expert on Spanish wines in general, writing for various international wine journals, and for the celebrated source of Spanish Wine intel that is timatkin.com .

This small book, measuring about 17x12cm and running to around 180 pages is smartly put together, with a kind of Lonely Planet vibe, lots of photos of people, places, bottles and labels bringing colour to well-set out text, supplemented with a variety of maps.

In the Foreword, written by Victor Urrutia (Chief Executive of CVNE), he says “This book captures the essence of what makes Rioja a place that every wine lover should visit at least once. It should be in every wine lover’s suitcase”. Let’s see whether this is true, and to what extent it would have been an “indispensable” (as the back cover asserts) guide for me on my one and only visit to Rioja so far.

We open up the cover to a map of the whole region, simple and uncluttered, showing Rioja’s sub-regions, main towns and roads, opposite a list of eight major attractions with page references. Such attractions include the Barrio de la Estacíon in Haro, Calatrava’s winery architecture at Ysios and the monastic sites at San Millán de la Cogolla, all high on any tourist’s list of must-see places.

A colour-coded list of contents matches the colour blocks on the right hand (recto) pages of each chapter (though sensibly left off the photos to avoid spoiling the aesthetic). Although the team putting this together have doubtless looked at all the general travel guides out there, I’d say the design is excellent, geared very much for ease of use on the road, the attractive photography whetting the appetite for what you are heading off to see.

We begin with a short history of Rioja from Roman times up to today, as the region is undergoing a number of exciting changes. This is followed by a resume of the Rioja wine classifications, including a little on the regulatory body, the Consejo Regulador. Here, Fintan includes a section on old vines (and why they matter), followed by a personal but well-chosen list of Rioja’s finest wines, with a paragraph or two on each of the twelve he includes.

The chapter on Geography also contains some neat, small, maps of the sub-regions of Rioja (Rioja Alavesa, Alta, and Orientale (formely known as Rioja Baja)). On these are marked some of the major wineries, followed by a chapter on wine styles. Here, we are not restricted merely to the old Joven to Gran Reserva classification, but the author also looks to distinguish traditional and modern wines.

The revolution being undertaken in Rioja has been twofold. There was a period when “modern” meant rejecting the old pyramidal structure topped by Gran Reservas aged forever in mostly American oak, for wines often made in new French barriques, sometimes closer in style to the big wines coming out of Ribera del Duero than the Tempranillo blends we were used to, and sold to us in some of the heaviest bottles known to wine.

“Modern” today is likely to mean something much more subtle. First, there has been a new appreciation of Grenache in the region. It hasn’t supplanted Tempranillo, but as well as becoming more important in some blends, there are also very fine wines made solely from this variety gaining fame today.

Perhaps even more important has been the new focus on site and terroir. Traditionally, Rioja has been a wine made from grapes sourced across the wider region. The idea of the “Vino de Pago”, or delimited single vineyard wine, became established in law in 2003. Although there are only a relatively small number of single sites designated as Pago so far (25 at my last count, but I may be out of date), this has led to a more general appreciation of terroir and with it the establishment of producers making wine from just one sub-region and, more importantly, one village. Pago wines are expensive, but the idea of “Village Rioja” is quite thrilling for wine lovers like you and I, and the wines are infinitely more affordable.

The next chapter is on grape varieties, and as well as the well-known and lesser red varieties, here we can get to know the white varieties, once neglected but no longer. Some of the most spectacular strides in the whole region are being made with white wines. It’s a whole genre which is just beginning to catch fire for dedicated lovers of Spanish wine outside of Spain. Short sections on reading wine labels and vintages then precedes the second half of the book, on visiting Rioja.

The part one might call “on the road” is what sets this small guide apart from other works in a textbook format. Those don’t tend to tell you practical details such as the weather, when Rioja will be busy or quiet, what festivals are on and other things you might decide to do with those you have dragged along and who may not be so wine-obsessed (pretty useful if it’s a family holiday). The information on the towns and villages is short and sweet, but, for example, I defy anyone to look at the photo of San Vicente de la Sonsierra on its hilltop at sunset and not decide to visit (and hey, there are some pretty fabulous bodegas nearby).

There are several “wine routes” proposed (with small maps), of different lengths, plus a directory of the best bodegas to visit. Such visits can be geared to those seeking a full-service tour, like those you get with the bigger Champagne Houses in France, down to visits for a smaller tasting at an artisan producer’s cellar. These all range from famous names known to many who are not especially Rioja aficionados (Murrieta, Riscal, CVNE etc), to artisan producers whose visits sound particularly enticing (like Abeica or Ramírez de Ganuza).

As with any genuine guide to a wine region as a whole, as opposed to just its wines, there are recommendations of places to stay, including Rioja’s renowned luxury Wine Hotels (a bit of a thing here, often either attached to, or run by, one of the Rioja bodegas).

Food is far from forgotten, and you can choose from the best “fine dining”, bodega restaurants, the best tapas in Logrono (for which the town is rightly famous), and where to eat and drink in Haro (Rioja’s other main town). And don’t forget the wine shops, genuinely useful for those who prefer to bring home a variety of producers’ wines.

Finally, before the Glossary, Further Reading and Index, we get another section on individual wines, this time wines to look out for, whether on a restaurant wine list, in a wine shop, or at a tasting. Under various sub-headings which include white wines, joven wines and second wines, these differ from the established greats described earlier. Here we have some featured bottles and further lists of wines which are just a little less famous, perhaps more affordable, and certainly wines which should thrill those discovering them for the first time.

You’ve probably realised that I have answered the question I posed at the top of this review in the affirmative. At under £13 why would you not buy these little books if going on a wine trip to one of the regions covered, even if it’s just to have something light to peruse in the evening after dinner? Certainly, on the evidence of Fintan Kerr’s Rioja Guide, I’d go much further and say that for somewhere I don’t know very well, this guide has opened my eyes to possibilities I was unaware of, so I think it is, as the back cover says, “indispensable”.

What of the other guides in the series? Currently there is also a Guide for Bordeaux, written by Georgie Hindle, and if ever there were a region/city well-served with wine books and travel guides but nothing that combines the two, then Bordeaux is it. It’s another region I’ve not been to for a long time, 2015 in fact, when I was lucky to stay right over that marvellous curved staircase at Château Pichon-Baron. I was meant to be back in Bordeaux this year, but plans may have changed. Nevertheless, I’ll almost certainly read it, having enjoyed “Rioja”.

Four more books in this series are scheduled for 2025 publication according to the publisher. June sees guides on Napa by Maria Hunt and on Tuscany by Paul Caputo. Then, in October, Switzerland gets some well-deserved coverage from Simon Hardy and Marc Checkley. I will be more than interested, as someone who has reasonably deep knowledge of Swiss wine, to see how the authors handle a whole country, one with six major and well-dispersed wine regions (more if you don’t lump all the German-speaking regions together under the Deutschschweiz banner, as many non-Swiss writers do).

Matt Walls extends his Rhône expertise (also due in October) beyond just the wines. Is there anyone writing on the Rhône today who can match Matt’s knowledge, especially of up-and-coming villages, winemaker and co-operatives?

Both of those two guides will be absolute buys for me, and I can hardly wait that long, especially as I hope to be back in Switzerland next year and I only know of one book in English on that country’s wines (by the late Sue Style in 2019).

In the meantime, whether you plan a trip to Rioja, or just want to get back into a region that, like me, you may have let slip off the radar in favour of more glamorous new regions (Gredos and Bierzo lovers, I’m referring to ourselves here), then this little guide comes highly recommended. Its all-encompassing nature has really inspired me to go visit, and I’m sitting here quite jealous of the person I know who is on a trip there right now, as I type. Nice one, Fintan, and also congratulations to whichever individual commissioned this series.

Rioja by Fintan Kerr is one of the first pair of books in The Smart Traveller’s Wine Guide series, part of the Académie du Vin Library, published as a paperback/soft cover in 2024, running to 182 pages. It can be purchased direct from the publisher, or through a range of major chains and independent book stores. To go directly to the Académie du Vin you can follow the link below:

The Smart Traveller's Wine Guides

Posted in Fine Wine, Restaurants, Rioja, Spanish Wine, Wine, Wine Books, Wine Shops, Wine Tourism, Wine Travel, Wine Writing | Tagged Académie du Vin Library, Bodega Visits in Rioja, Club Oenologique, Dining in Rioja, Fintan Kerr Author, food, Rioja Guide, Rioja Wine Routes, Rioja Wine Shops, spain, The Smart Traveller's Wine Guide Series, The Smart Traveller's Wine Guide to Rioja, travel, Visiting Rioja, Wine, Wine Tasting | Leave a comment

The Elephants in the Wine Room

Posted on 24/03/2025 by dccrossley

Occasionally I like a gentle rant, and I was inspired to spout forth on this topic, the price of wine, by a few very different recent experiences. By “wine”, of course I mean the kind of artisan, especially natural, wines which most of my readers are buying. Like every story, it has two sides, and this one is not only about the significant price increases you and I are paying for the lovingly crafted bottles we are buying, or perhaps not buying. It is also about the struggles of the people making the wine, importing it and selling it.

Let’s start at the top. The fact is, although few people in the trade are openly discussing it, that the wines we were buying for, say, £20+ during Covid are now all up there in the thirties. Wines we paid in the thirties for are now frequently in the fifties. Let me give two examples. Excuse me if I’m not specific but I don’t want to appear to single out individual importers.

First, a German wine which I recently paid around £30 for in the UK. This wine, same vintage, was for sale, retail, in France for 16€. That French retailer purchased it direct from the winemaker, using his own transport, but he paid just less than half that price trade, per bottle, to the producer. This highlights the extra costs faced by UK importers.

Second, a wine I was quoted £35/36 for last week. I believe during Covid I bought some of an earlier vintage of this wine (2019) in 2021 or ‘22 from an online wine shop for £19.

So, what are the reasons for these mega-increases in prices? I want to say right away that it is emphatically not importers being greedy. Okay, we know there isn’t a rule as to how much margin an importer (or retailer) takes, but even if a few take a little more than others, no one is getting rich selling wine in the UK. If they were, then we wouldn’t see realignment of stocks, where some producers’ wines take longer than they used to come back in, or as we notice with some importers, the rate at which they take on new producers has noticeably slowed down.

On the retail side, although there are notable exceptions with those shops that specialise in organic, biodynamic and natural wines still shining like beacons if their customer base still has the ability to pay, you might find the range at other shops slightly diminished, with more “value” end wines and some of the more expensive wines discounted more frequently, or delisted.

What is causing this pressure? Brexit was the beginning, I guess. It has put a very much increased administrative burden on both those exporting wine and those importing it here. These extra costs coincided with a time when fuel prices rose dramatically, making transport over long distance by road significantly more expensive.

Then there’s inflation. All of Europe experienced inflation which seemed to peak in 2022, but in the UK it reached 9.1% in June that year, the highest since 1982, and the highest in any of the G7 nations over the same period. Inflation fell to around 2.5% here in late 2024, but is currently running around 3%. Inflation has fallen, but that only means prices are now increasingly more slowly. They are very unlikely to come down in the wine sector.

Of course, there is one other factor affecting wine prices, and that is duty. The UK has a regime for duty on alcohol which is significantly more onerous than that which pertains in the European Union. The latest increases in alcohol duty, initiated by the previous government but being put into law by the current one, see an obvious attempt to penalise wines stronger in alcohol, but the complexity of the rules is mind-bending enough (no other country has such complex rules as the new UK ones), without the increases in prices resulting from them.

The result is a storm from which the consumer benefits not one bit. However, this isn’t all. Before your UK importer places an order for wine from a producer he may have shown loyalty to for many vintages, he or she will be faced with price increases at the cellar door caused by pretty much similar issues to the ones I have already discussed. Energy prices didn’t increase in France and Germany as much as they did in the UK, but those winemakers are still paying more for energy, and, thanks to general inflation, more for their new barrels, presses, steel fermenters, trellising posts, horseshoes, in fact everything they need to make the wine.

As an aside, the ridiculous nature of American tariffs becomes clear when one thinks about all those Austrian Stockinger Casks, Italian concrete eggs, French vertical presses and German tractors the finest US wine producers import, not to mention the expensive harvesting machines they will need to replace their cheap Mexican grape pickers.

American producers are also made to use the same distribution system as for imported wine, so any impact on those distributors will knock back on the home -grown wines. I think the prices of American wines even on their home market will be negatively (for the consumer) impacted by the Trump tariffs. The result could easily be shrinkage in both home production and the home market in the USA.

I’ve talked about UK-side costs, costs which the UK importer’s small margins won’t allow to be absorbed, even when it becomes obvious that sales are impacted. London is a vibrant, and to a degree a resilient, market. Such pressure on sales is possibly more obvious outside of London, initially, where incomes are generally less and the hospitality industry in general is suffering as well. This latter issue can be catastrophic for wine wholesalers who may be waiting for payment on delivered stock. Failure to pay on time destroys cash flow. Failure to pay at all destroys supliers if they are not careful.

I’ve also touched on producer-side costs. How are these impacting sales? Any evidence tends to be anecdotal. Few producers will openly talk about the situation, but putting together information from several sources, one sees that a genuine crisis is emerging, with even well-know wine domaines being unable to sell all their wine. I know of especially young producers, as well as some more established ones, in Alsace, the Jura, Southern France, Bugey and elsewhere who are struggling because they can’t sell their wines for enough money to cover their costs and to make a living.

I’ve talked a lot about hail and frost in the past, an increasing hazard for many producers in Northern Europe. In Europe’s south it tends to be drought that is the problem. Reduced yields can be absorbed in many ways over the short term, but that becomes even harder to achieve when compounded by all the issues we are discussing here.

One of the stimuli for this piece was an article by one of the people behind Trink Magazine, Valerie Kathawala. Writing recently on the “Invisible Crisis in Germany’s Wine Industry”, she suggests that “two-thirds of independent German wine producers are in trouble”. This is a topic that has never been addressed in Germany, yet a crisis is unfolding. Again, it hits the young, newer, winemakers hardest. They are the most financially stretched with agricultural and equipment loans and they are perhaps under the greatest health stress as a result. They are the future and wine regions cannot afford to see innovative young winemakers going out of business.

A German producer may have some vines in a famous site or three. He or she may sell those wines easily, on allocation. However, for the vast majority, they have less elevated cuvées which they also have to sell. Of course, some producers are lucky, but a good number cannot sell these wines. It has nothing at all to do with quality, and everything to do with price. Perhaps fashion plays a part too, some may argue, yet it is clear many producers in the ever fashionable Jura are experiencing these problems. Selling at a price which doesn’t make them a loss, or, at least if individual wines have to be “discounted”, overall profitability has to be maintained. Without this there is no future, not for wine anywhere.

This all sounds like doom and gloom. In the case of most of us less financially resilient wine lovers we have to tighten our belts. My income hasn’t really increased over the past five or six years and artisan/natural wine prices have, by I’d estimate by between 25% to 40% (and sometimes more like 50%) for the wines I had been buying regularly.

No matter how much we love wine, it is still a discretionary spend. What can we do? My own approach has been on several levels. First, I’m trying not to drink wine on two days each week. In my case, that’s a saving of say four bottles per month, or in financial terms, perhaps £120/month. You can see I’m still far from struggling as much as many.

Then there’s the spend less option. There are some very good value wines, even natural wines, out there. Hot spots include much of Spain and Portugal, and Italy’s less-famous regions (especially in the south, if less so Sicily). I’m also buying, you might have noticed, quite a bit of Czech natural wine. Prices here are definitely rising, but what you can get for your money still makes these wines supremely good value.

Also, let’s not forget those lesser wines, so-called (I prefer entry level), from well-known producers. Take the Domaine L’Octavin negociant wine I drank last month, and featured in my last “Recent Wines” article. Alice Bouvot’s negoce cuvées are usually at least £15 cheaper than her domaine wines, but I know this producer well enough to know that I am still drinking Alice’s wine and the passion and soul that went into making it.

Where I draw the line when buying to drink at home is at the mundane. Even if I’m buying a cheap wine from one of the more interesting supermarket ranges, like the Australian Aranel varietal wine from Waitrose’s “Loved & Found” range (see Recent Wines January 2025 (Pt 1)), it needs to have a story to tell. I think most of us who have an interest in wine and see it as more than a mere beverage want that from any bottle we buy. You can find such wines at indie wine shops, usually by chatting with the staff to find out what’s really interesting or great value.

I don’t want to end just on doom and gloom. At the weekend my wife and I went to eat at a local, family-run, Italian bistro. It’s not somewhere to expect gastronomy, and I’m sorry to say that the wine list is rather mundane, but the friendly welcome is better than in any place I’ve been to since we moved to Scotland. Supermarket Chianti and lazy importer Barolo, however, top the list of the usual suspects at prices few of us would pay if we know the wines.

Nevertheless, they do simple house wines by the carafe or glass. The white is a Verdicchio, and I’m not sure about the Rosato, although it’s quite tasty, the tastiest of the three colours to my palate. On this occasion I had a large glass of red, a generic Italian Merlot. In context it was perfectly drinkable, made nicer by following the main course with the best home-made tiramisu I know, accompanied with a glass of Amaro. £6/250ml for the wine, just over £60 all in for a meal for two. The fifteen minute walk home along the beach, a cloudless sky filled with galaxies of stars and the waves quietly lapping against the shore made for an evening that a bottle of ArPePe, Tignanello or Mascarello would have enhanced, but not significantly more, in context, if I’m honest.

That such simple pleasures exist is perhaps reassuring for those of us seeing our cellars (or wine rooms) shrink as prices continue to climb, but this experience reminded me of two things. First, that immersing oneself in the pleasures of simple wine can, with ease, transport us to a place where we don’t need our unique unicorn bottles to create contentment. That is especially the case if you look at the mark-ups at some restaurants, where finding anything decent, at least for any wine obsessive, under £60 is pretty hard work.

It also reminded me that before my wine affliction, albeit a very long time ago, I had years enjoying very simple wines, whether with a steak-frites on the road in France, spaghetti in Italy, paella in Spain or a chicken kebab in Greece. A host of very specific memories remain from particular meals which cost little, and where the wine we drank was whatever they poured. I think that those experiences are now harder to find, but they are still out there, and the wine is likely to have improved in the interim.

You and I, we can’t help our passion for artisan wines, and I hope to continue to enjoy them for a long time to come, but they might not all be there forever. Carpe Vinum!

Posted in Artisan Wines, Natural Wine, Wine, Wine Agencies | Tagged Discussing Wine Prices, Exploring Alternatives in Artisan Wines, Pressures on Wine Producers, Re-evaluating Pleasure in Wine, The Elephant in the Wine Room (Prices), Wine Price Increases, Wine Producer-side Cost Increases, Wine Producers Financial Pressures | 1 Comment

Recent Wines February 2025 (Part 2) #theglouthatbindsus

Posted on 19/03/2025 by dccrossley

Part Two of my wines drunk at home in February doesn’t manage the zero-zero of all different countries, as Part One did, but we still manage to range far and wide in the world of wine. We kick off in Germany’s Mosel, leap over to Australia’s Clare Valley for a different style of the same grape variety, and then jump back to Europe for a complex Alpine white from Savoie.

If those are all white wines, we then move on to a couple of reds, albeit lighter ones. A lip-smacking Jura blend plays next to an enigmatic four-grape mix from Burgenland, both being just perfect examples of the essence of glouglou. Last but not least we have a remarkable 2011 vintage blend from Moravia, an orange wine of a quality that matches the finest wines of this style I know, and at a price to make you weep with joy…if you could find a bottle.

Haart Riesling 2022, Julian Haart (Mosel, Germany)

Julian Haart took over his family’s vines around Piesport in 2010. That he became so well known so quickly perhaps has something to do with his work experience before that point, four different top estates which included Keller and Egon Müller. He has five hectares to play with, and as his importer rightly says, he is “making wines as exciting as any in the Mosel”. Julien is no longer a new star. That falls on others as often as possible mentioned on this blog. He is now an established one.

All of Haart’s vines are on slate, and have decent, if not considerable, age. The regime is organic viticulture, whole cluster pressing, fermentation and ageing in traditional 1,000-litre füder. Julien keeps it as simple as possible with the aim to produce genuine terroir wines.

Here, we are at the entry level, but that at least means relative accessibility early on. The old vines still give complexity. There’s a floral bouquet with some spice and confit citrus. I even found mint. The palate shows great presence and a certain tension. There’s a bit of peach and green apple crunch. You’d think I was describing a top wine. All it lacks is that transcendence top Mosel from a good year provides with age.

At 10.5% abv you will see that it is “fruity” and most would probably call it “dry”, yet that fruit has that sweetness which equates with ripeness. Perfect balance from a vintage said to be high in acids (like 2021), but also very approachable in youth, certainly at this level and quality.

I bought this from The Solent Cellar last year, for a ridiculously great value £24. Naturally it’s all gone. Check out importer Howard Ripley for UK distribution. There are stocks in Europe and the USA.

Polish Hill River Riesling 2017, O’Leary Walker (Clare Valley, South Australia)

I think O’Leary Walker must be having its 25^th anniversary this year because it was founded in 2000 by friends David O’Leary and Nick Walker. Both had already had winemaking careers during the heyday of Australian wine, ranging from premium producer, Petaluma to Aussie giant, Hardy’s. They chose Leasingham in the Clare Valley to open their own winery, and in 2010 they were joined by Nick’s son, Jack.

The winery is just south of Watervale, but the fruit for this wine comes from the northeast of the valley, along the Polish Hill River. The geology of Clare is interesting. Where the winery is located, we have mostly limestone, but the north-south running Polish Hill Valley has slate (cf Jeffrey Grosset’s Polish Hill cuvée). The vines are said to struggle and produce long-lived wines which can be austere in their youth. The north of the valley is certainly warmer than the southern end, but we are up on a plateau and at 450 masl upwards the cool nights help create a tension between ripeness and acidity.

We are lucky here to taste a fairly inexpensive Clare Riesling, produced in decent quantities, but with some age to it, pretty much eight years in this case. It’s living proof that you can find very good value Riesling here. It has typical lime fruit dominating, a nice lick of acidity, but nothing overpowering, and a good mouthfeel with a little mineral texture. The alcohol sits at a nice 11.7%.

This isn’t a natural wine, though it does state that it is “vegan”. Don’t expect the sort of complexity, nor the wow factor, that a nice bottle of Grosset Polish Hill provides, but for £16 from Waitrose this was surprisingly good.

Les Abymes “Electrik” 2021, Domaine Philippe & Sylvain Ravier (Savoie, France)

This was a good find and a testament to the art of browsing in a wine shop. I knew nothing about this specific wine or producer, but trust the team in this store, and I realised I’d not drunk anything but expensive Savoie for ages.

Abymes is one of the largest of Savioe’s sixteen sub-appellations (producers are actually banned from calling them “crus”), and it is located to the south of Chambéry, below Aprémont. It’s claim to fame lies in a disaster. Mont Granier collapsed in 1248, submerging several villages, killing at least 1,000 people, and leaving a cliff face over 700 metres high where the mountain had once been. It is, however, on these loose limestone-marl scree slopes that Abymes is planted.

The grape variety here is the Savoie mainstay, Jacquère, in this case from a single parcel farmed organically with no herbicides/pesticides. Fermentation uses only indigenous yeasts. Once derided, Jacquère can make lovely wines when treated with respect, something growers didn’t need to do in the past when a ready-made ski market would drink any local wines going with their après. Here, you are introduced to a lovely bouquet of ripe citrus with peach blossom, and then the palate brings fennel, stone fruits and a dash of lemon. It combines a fullness in the mouth with fresh, citrus acids and a slightly stony texture.

A lovely wine purchased from The Solent Cellar in Lymington, but the last bottle on their shelf, for £19. Try Jeroboams if you’re in London.

Hip Hip J… [2018], Domaine L’Octavin (Jura, France)

This is one of Alice Bouvot’s “gnome label” negociant wines. Most of these are just super-juicy gluggers, and this is no exception, so why buy it? Well, if you know Alice’s wines you will know that if wine is alive, then these bottles are alive and having the time of their lives. She makes some of the most vibrant wines on the planet and whilst her domaine cuvées are increasingly expensive, the negoce bottles are a little cheaper, but made with the same honesty and passion.

This wine comes in several forms, and I believe this one is Poulsard and Trousseau (as the back label cryptically states) rather than just Poulsard (as claimed by some retailers). Deciphering the back label is key to finding the vintage, and the origin of the fruit. Although Alice sources fruit from good friends as far afield as Savoie and the Languedoc, these Jura varieties seem to have an Arbois post code.

As with every Bouvot wine, you get fermented grape juice with absolutely nothing added, or “pur jus de raisin” as she puts it. Red fruits dominate zippy acids, which put up a good fight, making for a wine that tastes like fruit juice. Yet with 13% alcohol, don’t be fooled. There’s a little bit of volatility, 90% of which blows off, but this level of “feral” won’t please everyone. These are, however, pretty unique wines, busy, not sedate. The payoff is purity, emotion, life and soul in a wine which lingers on the palate. Also, despite being as far from a traditionally intellectual wine, it lingers on the mind as well.

From Feral Art & Vin (Bordeaux), expect to pay 26-30€ in France for current vintage, more likely £35-40 in UK retail, where Tutto Wines imports.

Ujča Hendrik [2023], Luka Zeichmann (Burgenland, Austria)

Luka has graced these pages many times with the wines he makes at Jois, in northern Burgenland, in a partnership under the label Joiseph. He is now also making wine further south in the same region, under his own label. There are some wines made from vines owned by his family, and also some wines (as we have here) made from fruit purchased from selected growers. The quality of both is very high, and both sets of fruit are subject to Luka’s extremely high viticultural standards as regards synthetic inputs and so on. The winemaking is the same too, all that differs really is the price.

We have here a field blend of red varieties, which includes as major components Blaufränkisch, Zweigelt and Blauer Portugieser. Undergoing a very gentle fermentation with no additives, it has a lovely pale red colour (though for my eyes it isn’t a Rosé), with scents of strawberry and raspberry. The same fruits appear on the palate in the zippiest way imaginable, carried over the tongue by a faint prickle of carbon dioxide, which addition helps obviate the need for any sulphur.

I’d call it light but not insubstantial, which is just the kind of red wine I’m drinking a lot of these days. You wouldn’t necessarily think that a red wine with as light colour as this one would be one to linger long on the palate, but it does. This is almost certainly because it’s a natural wine without synthetic additions cutting it short. The concentration is in the pure fruit, not a result of the way it was fermented and aged.

£28 from Cork & Cask (Edinburgh), imported by Modal Wines.

Nejedlík Orange 2011, Dobrá Viníce (Moravia, Czechia)

Sadly, in May 2023 Petr Nejedlík passed away. He left behind him, certainly in this wine, one of the very finest examples of skin contact maceration in Central Europe. This wine is something of a Moravian unicorn. Petr Nejedlík was a pioneer of Czech natural wine, not only as a producer, but also as a mentor. Moravia’s most famous winemaker, Milan Nestarec, first visited Petr as a seventeen-year-old in wine school and was suitably inspired. He also learnt a lot from someone who became a close friend.

Milan captures the essence of the man in a kind eulogy he wrote on his web site, where he says “Petr had a tremendous feeling for wine. He put positive energy into it…”, summing up by saying “this country didn’t have a better winemaker”.

I mention all this because almost everyone reading this will know about the likes of Pierre Overnoy, Josko Gravner, and other people who have had a profound influence on their region’s wines. Petr Nejedlík was such a man, and yet he is wholly unsung by the taste makers of Anglo-Saxon wine criticism.

The Dobrá Vinice vines are all planted around Novy Saldorf, a blend of Chardonnay, Riesling and Sauvignon Blanc grown on granite, sand and a silex/quartz mix for this wine. Vinified in qvevri (amphorae) imported from Georgia, where the fruit spends 24 months on skins. Imagine Sherry or Vin Jaune that tastes of marmalade and you get the picture. The flavours are quite unique, but genuinely thrilling.

This bottle is probably my third taste of this wine (I’ve had it at a tasting at Plateau in Brighton and certainly twice at home now). It is likely to be my last. It’s beautifully scented, with orange and orange blossom. The palate is velvet-smooth, very complex and long. It is a natural wine but there was a tiny addition of sulphur. Since my first taste in 2019 this has only got better and better.

This bottle came from Basket Press Wines, the importer, and retailed for the ridiculously cheap price of £35. I don’t think they list it any longer but there is always a remote chance they have a few tucked away in their reserves. A beautiful wine and a beautiful experience drinking it. Petr is no longer with us, but in producers like Jaroslav Osicka and Richard Stavek, we still have some of the original pioneers of Czech natural wine making some equally fine wines down in Moravia. Although maybe not so many quite as utterly unique as this one.

Posted in Amphora Wine, Artisan Wines, Australian Wine, Austrian Wine, Czech Wine, German Wine, Jura, Mosel, Natural Wine, orange wine, Savoie Wine, Wine, Wine Agencies | Tagged #theglouthatbindsus, Alice Bouvot Arbois, Dobra Vinice Nejedlik Orange 2011, Domaine L'Octavin Hip Hip J..., Domaine Philippe & Sylvain Ravier Savoie, Haart Riesling 2022, Julian Haart Mosel, Les Abymes Electrick Ravier, Luka Zeichmann Burgenland, Moravian Natural Wine, Moravian Wine, O'Leary Walker Polish Hill River Riesling 2017, Petr Nejedlik Dobra Vinice, Recent Wines February 2025 (Pt 2), Ujca Hendrik Luka Zeichmann, Value Clare Riesling | Leave a comment

Recent Wines February 2025 (Part 1) #theglouthatbindsus

Posted on 14/03/2025 by dccrossley

We are extra-diverse on Recent Wines February 2025 (Part 1). Six wines, six different regions and six different countries. I won’t manage that in Part 2 as I can already see two French wines creeping in there, so make the most of the variety here. We have wines from Emilia-Romagna (Italy), Kent’s North Downs (England), Moravia (Czechia), Vermont (USA), Württemberg (Germany) and Champagne (France). I hope you enjoy them as much as we did.

Malvasia Rosa 2022, Donati Camillo (Emilia-Romagna, Italy)

This is another of those wines I used to drink actually fairly often. This was back in the day when a couple of times a year I’d drive from Brighton to Les Caves de Pyrene’s warehouse at Artington and spend a morning perusing what they had on sale, sadly no longer possible as the retail bit of that lovely destination is nowadays closed. I also seem to recall this wine being a great aperitif at Terroirs on several occasions, almost certainly my most lamented London restaurant which (among several) is no more.

Camillo Donati is based at Barbiano-Felino in the Lambrusco Hills, about twenty kilometres south of Parma, and one of the most underrated sources for thirst-quenching frizzante wine in Europe. He runs a third-generation family estate of around eleven hectares, farmed both organically and biodynamically.

This wine is IGT, rather than DOC, presumably because it’s a natural wine. It is very different to the industrial Lambrusco Rosato you will find, although there are many fine artisans in these hills turning out head-turning Lambrusco, nevertheless. Direct-press Malvasia is first fermented in tank, and then undergoes a second fermentation in bottle. The result has a gentle mousse, a pale pink hue, red fruits on the nose and palate, where there is also a plummy edge, very fruity.

It comes in at 12.5% abv and most of all it’s thirst-quenching, but it’s also a lovely wine. Imported by Les Caves de Pyrene, it is quite widely available. My bottle cost just £20 from The Solent Cellar (web site says only three left). Other retailers seem to have it for £23-£24. Plenty of other choices at that particular source for a mixed six-pack.

Pelegrim NV Brut, Westwell Wines (Kent, England)

I think I could get one thing out of the way right at the start. I think this is among the best value two-or-three English Sparkling Wines you can buy. That’s why it pops up here a couple of times a year. The name of this cuvée derives from the location of Westwell’s winery and vines, which sit below the pilgrim route along the Kent Downs to Canterbury. It is a blend of Pinot Noir (40%), Pinot Meunier (35%) and Chardonnay (25%), all grown on Downland chalk.

This is a wine which spends three years on lees during its second, bottle-fermentation and comes with 8g/litre dosage. It also benefits, which word should be underlined, from 20% reserve wines. Although the overall style is citrus-fruit-forward, there’s bags of honeyed depth, doubtless helped by those reserves. In addition, look for a nice, soft creaminess, good salinity, and even a little evolving butter and toast character.

You see, a little age and the complexity (and the autolysis) pokes its head up. The other point to note is the slightly softer mouthfeel than most English sparklers, this being down to a slightly lower level of pressure at 5-bar. That’s not a lot lower than most, who follow Champagne’s lead with around 6-bar pressure or just over, but enough to notice.

I would also like to give a shout out for the labels, both here and on all of Westwell’s wines. Adrian Pike’s partner, Galia, designs them all and I think they are wonderful, each being pertinent to the work they do at Westwell.

You can buy Pelegrim either direct from Westwell, or from their UK agent, Uncharted Wines, for £33. Sometimes it’s available at Cork & Cask in Edinburgh, where their savvy customers make them sell out swiftly, almost here today, gone tomorrow. I’m afraid a few of my favourite wine shops are behind the curve on this producer.

Westwell’s more “traditional” Blanc de Blancs retails for around £50, or you could try the Wootton Top Col Fondo (same varieties as Pelegrim but in the same style as Col Fondo Prosecco, undisgorged) for £30, both of these available at Butlers Wine Cellar in Brighton, as well as through Uncharted and direct from the estate.

Impera 2019, Dva Duby (Moravia, Czechia)

“Dva Duby” translates as “Two Oaks”. It is a six-hectare natural wine estate at Dolní Kouníce in Southern Moravia. The terroir is based on magmatic igneous rock called grandiorlite. The vines are forced to burrow deep for moisture, and even then, fruit yields are low. Of course, this is good news for quality.

This red blend is 70% Saint-Laurent with 30% Blaufränkisch, locally called Frankovka. A lengthy maceration on skins of one month in open-top fermenters is followed by ageing in a mix of acacia wood and oak casks for one year.

The bouquet is deliciously rich cherry fruit, the palate adding smoky and savoury notes. It is undoubtedly an easy drinking natural wine, but at the same time this has matured nicely since I was impressed by it at a tasting in November 2023. As a natural wine, it has good fruit acids but no volatility, being very clean. Five years is a good age for this, but there is no hurry to drink up. An excellent wine from an equally excellent producer.

I paid £22 from importer Basket Press Wines. Other availability ranged up to £26+, but the 2019 vintage may be hard to track down now. Look out for spring restocks, but not at 2023 prices.

Damejeanne Vermont Rouge 2019, La Garagista (Vermont, USA)

The wines of La Garagista are some of my favourites in the whole of North America. Although they come from a State where viticulture lacks the fame of others, exciting wines are produced, and this is partly down to an acceptance that hybrid varieties are capable of creating something quite special. Deirdre Heekin’s philosophy is at the centre of all winemaking and viticulture here, and the core of that philosophy is regenerative farming, biodynamics, a holistic environmental approach, and a focus on quality that comes from a place of love for the product, the vine and the environment.

Deirdre began the project with Caleb Barber back in 2010. This Cuvée comes from two hybrid varieties, Marquette (90%) and Crescent (10%), planted in the Champlain Valley, on a west facing slope oriented towards, and just a few miles from, the freshwater lake, “Lac Champlain”. This lake straddles the border between Vermont and New York State, but also extends over the Canadian border into Quebec. The large body of water has an ameliorating effect on the microclimate which is positive for viticulture.

Foot-crushed into open-top fermenters, the grapes spent five weeks on their skins. Next, ageing took place in 25-litre demijohns, which are of course made of neutral glass. The name of the cuvée is much more likely to follow the ageing method rather than the nevertheless entertaining story on the back label. This is almost a zero-intervention wine, just a tiny addition of sulphur taking place.

The colour is quite deep red, with fresh bramble fruit and decent acidity driving the fruit around the palate. It is often described as an “Alpine” red, and it very much is, several similarities with Mondeuse and perhaps Trousseau, being apparent, but this wine is generally endowed with more fresh and zippy acids. I’ve said before that Deidre and the team are very creative people and also sensitive to nature, and I’m sure that’s what makes this, and their other wines, feel so alive.

Imported by Les Caves de Pyrene, I actually bought this back at the Real Wine Fair in summer 2023. Scotland is bereft of many of Les Caves’s finest wines retail, because of the distribution agreement they have up here (which seems to my untutored gaze like one that works for nobody, certainly not those who want to buy these wines locally in Edinburgh). Contact Les Caves direct for stockists, or to see whether the wines are available via their online shop. As such a major importer of natural wines into the UK, it seems only right that the growing Scottish natural wine scene has greater access to wines like these.

Lemberger 2019, Weingut Roterfaden (Württemberg, Germany)

I first met Olympia Samara and Hannes Hoffman in April 2019, during the growing season from which this wine comes. They were young and enthusiastic, but above all their vision was impressive, as were these two very young individuals themselves. I last saw Olympia in summer 2023 at Real Wine, and her spirit had not dimmed. Nor had that of the wines I tasted.

Lemberger is the German synonym for Blaufränkisch and, hailing from their Württemberg vineyards, but made as a natural wine, this is designated a Schwäbischer Landwein. In Germany, Lemberger has suffered in the past from a poor reputation, one as a cheap co-operative red. Its reputation is now being resurrected mostly by young producers like Hannes and Olympia. As we know from Austria, the variety lends itself well to natural wine methods.

Olympia and Hannes know Lemberger/Blaufränkisch well because they not only worked with Dirk Niepoort, who doesn’t as far as I know grow the variety, although his ex-wife does, but with Claus Preisinger at Gols, who certainly does grow it. They have about half-a-hectare of Lemberger among their two-hectares of vines. These vines sit on blue limestone terraces, and are farmed biodynamically with Demeter certification.

The bouquet opens with dark cherry, subtle blueberry notes following. The palate has dark cherry with that slightly tart edge the variety often shows when grown on limestone, something both mineral and slightly (if fancifully) ferrous. There is great tension and purity, down to sensitive winemaking, allowing the grapes to speak freely. This is a wine with just 11.5% abv. £32 from Newcomer Wines, a recent purchase so every chance of there being some left.

Chevry Cuvée Fût Dosage Zero, Champagne Petit Clergeot (Champagne, France)

Paul-Bastien Clergeot started this 8-hectare domaine based on his parents’ vines in 2017, with plots at Les-Riceys, Balnot-sur-Laignes and Polisot (where the winery is based) in the Côte des Bar/Aube. Farmed organically, the philosophy here is one parcel, one grape variety, one vintage. In this case, it is a Pinot Noir plot called “Chevry” planted in 1975 at Polisot. The vintage is 2020. Vinification and ageing are in used barriques sourced from Burgundy, and the wine sees thirty months on lees during its bottle fermentation. It was disgorged in January 2023, with no dosage, of course, so we have a couple of years post-disgorgement ageing to add complexity.

The overall impression initially is of freshness, but as it warms up a little you would definitely say it has more depth, definitely a cuvée gourmande. There is that vinous taste. What I mean is that it has some of the qualities of a still wine sometimes lost in the bubbles. That said, it never loses its mineral edge, like fine crystals in a block of stone. Impressive, from a producer wholly new to me.

Only 654 bottles of “Chevry” were produced. This will age further and become even more of a food wine, but it’s lovely now. 44€ from Feral Art & Vin (Bordeaux, so French prices, I’m afraid). Russell at Feral has decades of experience of Grower Champagne, including the very finest, and I trust his selection of new (to me) Growers, like this one, implicitly.

Explore Feral’s excellent Grower Champagne list if you are able, as quickly as you can. You can find a return from Edinburgh for £80, probably cheaper from London, but you’ll need to add in some hold luggage for the bottles. A couple of UK sources list this cuvée for £52.50. But seriously, if you plan to visit Feral, as I know one or two of you have, keep an eye on their Instagram. Their opening is now restricted, currently to about one week per month, but those dates will always be up on IG and updated for Google Maps.

Posted in Artisan Wines, Champagne, Czech Wine, English Wine, German Wine, Italian Wine, Natural Wine, North American Wine, Sparkling Wine, Wine, Wine Agencies, Wine Merchants | Tagged #theglouthatbindsus, Adrian Pike Winemaker, Best Value English Sparkling Wine, Champagne Petit Clergeot Côte des Bar, Champagne Petit Clergeot Polisot Aube, Czech Wine, Deirdre Heekin La Garagista, Donati Camillo Malvasia Rosa, Dva Duby Impera 2019, Hannes Hoffman, Kent Wine, La Garagista Damejeanne Rouge 2019, La Garagista Vermont, Lambrusco's Frizzante IGT, Lemberger, Marquette Grape Variety, Moravian Wine, Natural Wine, Olympia Samara, Paul-Bastien Clergeot winemaker, Petit Clergeot Chevry Cuvée Fût, Recent Wines February 2025 (Pt 1), Vermont Wine, Weingut Roterfaden Württemberg, Westwell Pelegrim NV | Leave a comment

Timberyard Spring Tasting 2025 Part 3 – Element Wines, David Morris/Mountain People Wines and more

Posted on 11/03/2025 by dccrossley

This is the final part of three in which I go through some of the wines on show at Timberyard’s Spring Tasting in Edinburgh on 3^rd March. Here we are looking at wines brought in by Edinburgh-based merchant Element Wines. A number of wines were shown by Simon Lloyd and Steven Windsor. A relatively recent addition to the Edinburgh wine scene, Element has made quite an impact with its focus on organic and/or biodynamic, low intervention, terroir wines, which are available in a very wide range of Edinburgh (and beyond) restaurants and bottle shops.

Element Wines also distributes the wines of Carte Blanche in Scotland (see Part 1). In addition to the Element Wines table at Timberyard, a number of their growers were present to pour their own wines. I shall start with one of those which I think will appeal especially to my regular readers.

MOUNTAIN PEOPLE WINE – DAVID MORRIS

You may well have tasted wines made by David Morris before, because until 2019 he was winemaker at Richard and Joy Morris’s Ancre Hill Estate in Monmouthshire. Remember wines like their “Welsh Clockwork Orange” Albariño labelled Orange Wine, or that glouglou red petnat made from Triomphe d’Alsace, as well as those lovely traditional method sparklers etc?

David is now out on his own, working under the Mountain People Wine moniker, still in Monmouthshire, I believe leasing one of the oldest planted vineyards in the UK, Parva, which, among many changes, he has converted to biodynamics. He makes several cuvées from his own fruit, and I read that he has recently acquired back the Pinot Noir vineyard he planted at Ancre Hill. He also takes grapes from a friend in Frome, Somerset (Mayland Vineyard), who is principally a blackcurrant producer.

He also consults and hands-on makes wine for other producers, having studied first at Plumpton and worked in the UK (Nyetimber), France and New Zealand (with biodynamic winemaker, James Millton), moving back to Ancre Hill in 2013. Resolutely following a natural wine philosophy David uses all natural yeasts, and definitely no chaptalisation, the only inputs being sulphur, but only if deemed really necessary and then only up to a max of 15mg/l. The wines usually go through their malo, but only naturally with no forcing.

David’s wines remind me a little of England’s marginal terroir wine grower, Matt Gregory. I don’t know why. David’s patch of Monmouth is almost certainly sunnier and a wee bit drier than Matt’s East Midlands plots in Leicestershire, but there’s a similar vibe. Wine made on the edge, and thrilling for that very reason. Five wines were on show, three made from Somerset fruit and two from vines farmed by David Morris in Monmouthshire.

From Somerset we have Cowboys Don’t Have Curls “Blanc on Blonde”, “TAM” (This Ain’t Macon) and “Ain’t My 1^st Rosé”, all 2023 vintage. So, all are both good and super-interesting. Blanc on Blonde, riffing Bob, is a Pinot Noir vinified en blanc. I’ve drunk plenty of “White Merlot” from Switzerland’s Ticino region, which is almost all relatively unconvincing and way too expensive for me. I have drunk a little Pinot Noir vinified as a white wine from further north in Switzerland which has nevertheless been very good. This one is extremely fresh and refreshing. The acids are quite prominent but they merely carry the fruit.

This Ain’t Macon is interestingly named. It has perhaps a little in style to do with Macon, and it is made from 100% Chardonnay aged in a Stockinger cask, but as I said to David, it does remind me very specifically of Stéphane Tissot’s Arbois Chardonnays, with its very clean and fresh appley fruit, mineral spine and very slightly oxidative notes (Stéphane makes natural wines but it’s almost impossible to deduce that from tasting them). I laughed out loud when David told me that Stéphane was one of the people he had consulted about making Chardonnay, but then I have known Stéphane Tissot’s winemaking for over thirty years (and his parents before him).

I think the Rosé was a blend of 80% Pinot Meunier and 20% Pinot Noir. Very fruity but not as good as the Rosé below. That is not to take anything away from a tasty bottle, though.

From Welsh fruit, Parva Bacchus 2023 was very good. As a naturally reductive variety, this was made on lees but with no interference, such as lees stirring etc. The wine I thought was Parva Rosé but in the photo is labelled as “Gwin Poble y Mynydd Rhosyn”, was made from a field blend of fourteen varieties (I know there’s a little Huxelrebe, which pricked my attention, and David’s Parva vines go back to plantings in 1979). Made in stainless steel with no added sulphur, this is elegant, and a very “pretty” wine. I told David I thought it was pretty, but that was meant as a compliment, and he said he agreed with that description.

Maybe he was just being polite, but I am now on a mission to locate both the Chardonnay and the Welsh-grown Rosé, if I can find some, to drink at home. Excuse the slight confusion around some of these wines. The Chardonnay in fact I have seen on a retail shelf, but with a completely different label for the same vintage, something that David might care to clear up.

If you like Tim Wildman’s “Lost in a Field” pink petnat, some of whose grapes are incidentally harvested in Wales, then you will probably like this Welsh Rosé from the Parva fruit, though again, it’s more the vibe of the blend than direct flavour comparisons. There is no doubt we should be hearing David’s name up there with the other boundary-pushers in English and Welsh Wine (Tim Phillips, Daniel Ham, Ben Walgate etc).

ELEMENT WINES

I have spent a lot of time on David Morris but we still have to crack on with Element Wines’s table, so I shall work my way through, and as in Parts One and Two, spotlight some of my favourites at the end. Mention of the other producers will be briefer, but don’t worry, they will get a mention.

We began with two sparklers from Emilia Romagna. Vitivinicola Fangareggi Biancospino 2023 is a Lambrusco di Sorbara, but vinified white. It’s fruity and frothy, dry and if I say a little bit lean, I actually like that. It makes it as light and refreshing as the fun label suggests, but it isn’t ephemeral.

Puro! 2023 is, like the first wine, made by the Charmat Method (stainless steel tank fermentation), but the gas is not external and injected, but rather conserved from the first fermentation and re-introduced for the second. In other words, posh Charmat. Pure and clean red cherry fruit makes this palate cleansing. I’d grab either as a summer aperitif in a restaurant. The red Puro is a good charcuterie plate accompaniment, and equally a great lunch wine..

Folicello, also from Emilia-Romagna, showed two contrasting wines. Il Macerato 2023 is an organic frizzante labelled Bianco Emilia IGT. It saw twenty days on skins. The skin contact gives a certain structure which could come as a shock, and maybe it needs food. Gocce Rosse 2023 is a typical red from this part of Italy, in that there’s bags of brambley dark fruit and a bitter blackcurrant leaf finish. Both are well priced for the adventurous drinker.

Bioweingut Diwald is an old friend in a way. I met Martin several times when he was imported by Red Squirrel Wines (now Graft Wine), usually pouring alongside his old school friend, Arnold Holzer (Eschenhof Holzer). I’ve gone all sentimental, but I’ve not tasted a Diwald wine since 2018 (apparently). Now Martin is with Element Wines.

Three wines were shown: Riesling Fuchsentanz ’23, “Hautkontakt is not a Proper Word” ’23, and Zweigelt vom Loss 2022. The Riesling (translating as foxtrot) is definitely as zippy as the dance. Nice body, ripe fruit, great mouthfeel, and possibly my favourite of the three. “Hautkontakt…” is Grüner Veltliner, vinified 75% in acacia wood and 25% in stainless steel, with skin contact but bottled early. It has quite serious texture, a real “amber/orange wine”, one to shock a palate not expecting its structure. But I know this winemaker and if this is difficult now, I trust it will open if either left to breath or aged a little.

The Zweigelt is off clay, and is aged in stainless steel. I do like Zweigelt (or Rotburger if you are in the camp that doesn’t like to use Herr Zweigelt’s name). This has more weight than many I have drunk. It tastes like the wine I remember labelled as Grossriedenthal. The wines are made in Wagram, the first of the regions on the Austrian Danube upstream from Vienna (a constant stretch of vineyards which culminate in Wachau).

I remembered that back I the day I always tried to get a bottle or two of Martin Diwald’s Sekt, made from Grüner. I wonder whether Element Wines lists it?

Adega 100 Igual is a fourth-generation family estate of around ten hectares, based at Meinedo (Porto), but the organic grapes for this pair of Vinho Verde wines are grown in the Minho to the north. Sem Igual Branco and Tinto are both 2021 wines. The white (70% Arinto, 30% Azal) is vinified in stainless steel and it has retained its freshness.

The red (mostly Touriga Nacional and Baga pressed very gently, plus foot-trodden Vinhao) has fruit acids aplenty but it isn’t thin. For me, someone who wasn’t put off by red Vinho Verde first tasted in the 1980s (battery acid), this is very nice. If you have never tried a red VV, maybe opt for the white. I’ll buy the red. Both are nice wines made by an ambitious family and really well priced.

L’Arpette is a new producer making Gaillac wines out of Castelnau-de-Montmiral, a pretty village with an attractive Place des Arcades (I have visited), above the River Vère, west of Albi (one town I really do recommend a detour to). Albi was the place I ate my first Cassoulet and it was accompanied by a red Gaillac, Labastide de Levis if I remember correctly. The food was so good I remember the wine!

They showed a white blend of Len de L’El and Mauzac (which Mauzac is not specified) called Ce Blanc-Bec ’23. which was grassy with greengage (reine-claude) fruit. Arrose 2022 is a similar blend, but with 10% Braucol (a red grape also known as Fer Servadou in Aveyron). This adds the pale red colour (you may call it dark Rosé) you can just about make out in the photo. Le Pif de L’Arpette ’22 is 100% Braucol. I think the person tasting next to me didn’t like it. The texture and acidity of this wine means it needs food, and I suspect it would cut through the fat in cassoulet nicely. Some wines are not really made for the tasting table. Perhaps this was one?

Finca El Molar makes some value wines in Manchuela, a region of Spain that still has a poor reputation, which producers like El Molar are trying to change. This is a medium-large winery with 30ha at altitude on rocky, chalky, soils where a continental climate and a Mediterranean cooling breeze make for good potential, if complete commerciality (ie very high yields for starters) is set aside.

Although they grow a host of international varieties, the white shown here is a skin contact Macabeo 2022 which sees a one-week cold infusion before fermentation commences, so expect a clean wine with good mouthfeel. La Guarina 2022 is a blend of Bobal and Monastrell (aka Mourvèdre), 50% carbonic vinification, 50% pressed. Bright and pleasant, both wines are super-value. The Macabeo is available for under £20 retail, the red for a few pounds more.

Les Vignerons d’Estézargues is a very highly-regarded small co-operative in the Southern Rhône, not far from Avignon. Their distinction is that since as far back as 1995 they have been making organic and natural wines. All that they add is a tiny sulphur addition to wines deemed to need it. Two single plot wines were shown, both Côtes-du-Rhône-Villages-Senargues from 2023.

Coudette is 90% Syrah, inky, a touch of a bitter/savoury finish, mineral, almost more like a mini-Northern Rhône than a wine of the south.

“Domaine Andezon” is an equal blend of Syrah and Grenache. I’ve seen this listed as Domaine Anderson in English, so it may go out under different labels? It still has a density to it, but the fruit is more lifted, perhaps a touch fresher. That fruit is plummy with smooth blueberry, and I really like it. Both wines are 14.5% abv, which the new UK Duty regime will mess with big time. A shame as these wines are, on the shelf now, impressive wines at co-operative prices. They’ve thought about the labels too.

Favourites time. Red Lambrusco always tugs on me, so the Fangareggi Puro gets the first slot. There has to be a Diwald, and this time the Riesling Fuchsentanz gets my vote if I’m choosing one. However, I will go for Martin’s Zweigelt vom Loss as well, I think. Vinho Verde Tinto from Adega 100 Igual is in, for certain, and who could resist both of the wines from Senargues. L’Estézargues is such a superb co-operative and deserves our support, especially at current prices.

Last but not least a word on the other two producers present at the tasting, which are also imported by Element.

CHÂTEAU DE LA SELVE & CROS DES CALADES (ARDÈCHE)

This is a biodynamic operation at Grospierres in the Côteaux de l’Ardèche, based on a 13^th century ducal hunting lodge, with the wine domaine now run, since 2002, by Florence and Benoît Chazallon. The 44-hectares of vines they control are planted on limestone at around 350 masl. This is a well-known producer now and so needs little introduction to many readers. They have a reputation for great value glouglou wines based on their widely available Petite Selve cuvée, a blend of Cinsault, Grenache and Syrah which retails for well under £20. They showed thirteen wines in total.

The Cros des Calades wines (red, white and rosé) are made from bought-in grapes from five vineyards close to their winery. The ethos is the same, biodynamic and minimal intervention. These are certainly good restaurant wines as they appear to retail between £13-£19.

CHÂTEAU DE MAYRAGUES (GAILLAC)

The Château de Mayragues is a very attractive scheduled historic monument, made from the very distinctive pale limestone found locally in the Tarn, here at Castelnau-de-Montmiral. Laurence and Alan Geddes founded this biodynamic estate, making natural wines from 13 hectares. Their children, Anne and Duncan, carry on the work their parents started, and Duncan was at Timberyard to pour their wines.

There is something of a specialism here for the rare local grape varieties. They have Braucol, Duras, Loin de L’El (aka Loin de L’œil and L’En de L’El) and Mauzac, along with a few international interlopers. Duncan showed seven wines.

Look out for the abovementioned Loin de L’El 2021, a local variety which always seems to reflect its terroir down in the southwest. 1609 2020 is a blend of Duras and Syrah, and 23 Fahrenheit 2021 blends those two varieties with Braucol and Cabernet Sauvignon. Both wines, despite the Syrah and Cabernet in the blends, reflect their region well.

Doux de Mayragues (2022 shown here) is an ageable sweet wine (they suggest seven to ten years, which seems reasonable). It is made from super-ripe 100% L’En de L’El grapes, aged nine months on lees in acacia.

Both of these producers were well chosen as attendees, showing a range of interesting bottles following Element Wines’s doctrine of terroir driven, responsibly made, low-intervention wines. Excuse the lack of detail as this article is already very long. If you see them, go explore!

This concludes my coverage of the Timberyard Spring Tasting. Next, we shall see what I was drinking at home in February.

Posted in Artisan Wines, biodynamic wine, Natural Wine, Welsh Wine, Wine, Wine Agencies, Wine Merchants, Wine Tastings | Tagged Adega 100 Igual Vinho Verde, Austrian Wines, Bioweingut Diwald Wagram, Côtes-du-Rhône-Senargues, Château de la Selve Ardèche, Château de Mayragues Gaillac, Cowboys Don't Have Curls, Cros des Calades Ardèche, David Morris Parva Vineyard, David Morris Winemaker Wales, Duncan and Anne Geddes winemakers, Edinburgh Wine, Edinburgh Wine Merchant, Edinburgh Wine Tasting, Element Wines Edinburgh, Finca El Molar Manchuela, Florence & Benoît Chazallon winemakers, Folicallo Wines Emilia-Romagna, Gaillac Wines, Italian Wines, L'Arpette Castelnau-de-Montmiral Gaillac, Les Vignerons d'Estézargues, Monmouthshire Wines, Mountain People Wine, Portuguese Wines, This Ain't Macon Chardonnay 2023, Timberyard Spring Tasting 2025 Pt 3, Timberyard Spring Tasting March 2025, Trade Tastings Edinburgh, Vitivinicola Fangareggi Lambrusco di Sorbara, Welsh Wine | Leave a comment

Timberyard Spring Tasting 2025 Part 2 – Passione Vino

Posted on 06/03/2025 by dccrossley

Part Two (of three) of my review of Timberyard’s Edinburgh Spring Tasting covers the wines of Passione Vino. Part One, already published, covers Carte Blanche Wines.

Passione Vino is an importer/merchant I don’t know too well, although you may have read my articles on the recent Clay Wine Fair, where they had a table. Passione Vino is an Italian specialist (who’d have guessed) which began trading in 2003. As well as their import business they have a bar/osteria between Old Street and Shoreditch in London, which incidentally gets great reviews so maybe if you’re in London, check out their web site. Sales and accounts up north are handled by Greg Turner, who I met for the first time at the aforesaid Clay Wine Fair. He gets bonus points for remembering me, but he is a great ambassador for the PV brand. Let’s see how PV shaped up against CB, shall we…

PASSIONE VINO

I think there were nineteen wines on this table, though I’m not really counting, but it means I need to be brief. As I did in the last article, I shall list some of my absolute favourites at the end. That is a hard task. The wines here were all very well chosen, and there certainly were some real gems.

Arcari & Danesi Franciacorta Dosaggio Zero DOCG 2020 (Lombardy) is an excellent example of a wine from Italy’s premium sparkling wine region. Some Franciacorta wines, like some of their Champagne counterparts, are well made but lack genuine excitement. This one is pretty good. Organic and biodynamic viticulture produces a blend of Chardonnay with a bit of Pinot Blanc which sees three years on lees with no dosage. This cuvée sees no cane sugar. A fine bead leads to a lovely textured palate, fresh and steely but with good lees development clearly showing.

Iborboni “Cripto” Metodo Classico, Aversa Asprinio Spumante DOP takes us pretty much to the other end of Italy (Campania) with a sparkling wine made from the very rare Asprinio variety. Asprinio is known for high acids and they generally come with an admonition to drink young. However, this is an enjoyable sparkler, and I love acidity in refreshing fizz. Good value and an interesting bottle to pull out for wine friends.

Bosco Sant’ Agnesi “Covante” 2022 is a wine made from Coda Di Volpe, also from Campania. Made in tiny quantities, this is a gold-flecked wine with scents of citrus. The palate is much less neutral than when this variety comes from the larger producers. It has medium weight with pear and a quince-like bitter finish. I think it retails for a reasonable £27-ish, considering the tiny quantity that is made. I liked this, but it was somewhat overshadowed by the next three bottles.

Ca’ Liptra “Kypra” 2022 is a Verdicchio from Cupramontana in the Marche. Concentrated yet elegant, this has concentrated lemon pith flavours with a fresh, floral nose. Vinification is in cement. Exciting. I know PV mention the very same under several suggested food pairings but my notes read “perfect quiche wine”. Perhaps made for picnic perfection.

Maso Bergami Riesling Renano 2022 is from the wide Trentino DOC. Grown at a little over 500 masl, it is aged in traditional large old oak casks. The bouquet is floral, the palate waxy. I’d say that the nose doesn’t prepare you with the wow-factor you get when you taste it. I believe that this wine has seen some noble rot on the grapes, although it is a dry wine. That might help explain the sheer concentration here, which made it one of the standout wines on the table, and well worth the £40 retail price.

La Casetta “Incanto” Pigato, Terrazze dell’ Imperiese IGT 2023 comes, of course from Liguria. We can argue the distinctions between Vermentino and Pigato, for which the latter is supposedly a separate clone, identifiable by its speckled berries (hence the name). This is another wine with a nose that is a little more “shy” than its palate. Quiet bouquet, then the palate, Boom!. Softly textured, fresh, some concentration, overall lovely mouthfeel. Don’t be put off by the dull label.

Castello di Monsanto “Fabrizio Bianchi” Toscana Bianco IGT 2022 comes from a Tuscan estate which needs little introduction, although I think far fewer readers will know its white wines than its reds. The grapes are 100% Chardonnay, a wine which harks back to diversification in the Chianti Classico vineyards in the 1980s. It is named after the grower who planted the vines. Those first Tuscan Chardonnays, boy were they oaky (remember Isole’s?). This is nothing like that. It’s very elegant, the wine being aged two-thirds in stainless steel and one-third in oak tonneaux on lees for seven months. Only two things would stop me buying it. First, the three previous wines, and second, this estate’s superb Chianti Classico is three quid cheaper, and if I saw that on a shelf it would be gone.

Vike Vike Barbagia Bianco 2023 comes from a part of Sardinia where the wines are uniformly expensive. Grape hunters will find the Granazza variety (I’ve seen several spellings but went with the one on the label) in this lovely Sardinian wine. Only circa 1,800 bottles are made from what was once a mere blending variety, yet one autochthonous to Sardinia for centuries. The wine, whilst not exactly Green Chartreuse, definitely looked green in the low light at Timberyard. There’s lemon on the nose, but definitely mint as well. Herbal notes dominate a mineral palate. It’s a fine wine, all the better for being slightly unusual, but the £63 retail price is beyond poor wine writers, I fear.

Aldo Viola “Krimiso” Terre Siciliane IGT is made from the classic white variety of northwest Sicily, Catarratto, here grown at Alcamo. This is a wine that saw a six-month gentle maceration of unpressed whole bunches on skins, but in stainless steel. The darker colour reflects this, as does the wine’s tannic structure, suggesting further age. It does show elegance and class though. (apologies – no photo).

A’Vita Rosato 2023 is a pink Calabrian IGP wine from the Ciró region. I only know red Ciró from the large producer, Librandi, but this is a different kettle of fish. Some call producers like these the Ciró revolutionaries, and A’Vita arguably started the renaissance of small estate producers here.

The focus is resolutely on terroir, and the vines used here are actually a mere ten metres from the sea. The grape variety is Gaglioppo, one of Calabria’s obscure but well known varieties. Twelve hours on skins in stainless steel is enough to produce a pale cherry colour. Ageing, also in innox, is for a short few months after which you get a pure raspberry bouquet and, by contrast, a textured mineral/saline palate with a bitter-ish finish. Not your average Rosato, I love it and want some for summer. I really do. £31 retail. Greg says it tastes like Campari. Spot on Greg!

Pianogrillo Frappato 2022 is another Terre Siciliane IGT/IGP. Frappato is one of my two favourite Sicilian varieties (with Nerello Mascalese, of course, with which it is usually a total contrast). My Sicilian education involved plenty of Frappato from COS. This one sees a short fermentation and ageing yet it is more “serious” than many examples I’ve come across, and indeed more savoury. A very nice wine but not necessarily what you might expect. I like it.

I Mandorli Rosso Toscana IGT is (it says here) a non-vintage cuvée blended from 80% Sangiovese with 15% Cabernet Sauvignon and 5% Cabernet Franc, made and aged in concrete. It’s light and fruity, what I think would be a very good choice on a restaurant list, though this estate makes some expensive wines and this isn’t cheap, at least retail (if £32 is correct, that would double at least in a restaurant). I tasted an excellent Vermentino from their Suveretto vineyards at the Clay Wine Fair, my favourite of three Vermentinos there, but I think it costs more than fifty quid a bottle.

Sandro Fay Valgella 2021 is a single site Valtellina Superiore, one of several sold by Passione Vino. I’ve a big soft spot for Valtellina, a forty-kilometre slope along a river valley (the Adda) in Northern Lombardy. I’ll seek out Nebbiolo (known as Chiavennasca here) from anywhere outside of Piemonte, just to try it, and certainly in the hands of a few producers in Valtellina (especially ArPePe, of course, but also including Nino Negri and Sandro Fay) it makes wines to rival Barolo and Barbaresco. Valgella is one of the four “crus” you need to look for (along with Inferno, Sassella and Grumello). The vines are on terraces. I think “Inferno” gives you an idea of the “Côte-Rôtie-like” slopes, just below the Swiss border. Fantastic wine but would I be wrong to say drink at ten years old (plus)?

Sergio Genuardi “Salgemma” 2022 is yet another Terre Siciliane. PV seems to know Sicily very well, and in this case it’s quite pertinent. The variety in this wine is Nero d’Avola. Sicily has rather a lot of very commercial, sometimes over-ripe and over-alcoholic, Nero. This is thankfully not one of them. Grown inland from Agrigento, this is one of four cuvées made by Sergio from a single hectare of vines. This is only his second vintage and, although his output hardly seems commercial, this is a remarkable wine. It’s probably the best Nero d’Avola I’ve ever tried, and I have certainly drunk plenty of good ones among the dross.

Conterno Fantino is another very famous name on the PV roster, a producer of fine Barolo since 1982, based at Monforte d’Alba, one of the Langhe’s famous villages. Befitting a fairly large estate of twenty-seven hectares, they produce far more than just a range of Barolos (can’t bring myself to type “Baroli”). This wine (2022 vintage) is a single-site Barbera under the Barbera d’Alba DOC. What can I say. It is smooth, impressive, very nice actually, but it weighs in at 15% abv. Okay, I know 15% can be well-balanced but even half a bottle still gets you more than tipsy. Some people like to suggest you can have a glass of wine and still drive. Not this one. At £38 it’s pretty much on the nail for top quality Barbera these days, though.

I Custodi “Aetneus” Etna Rosso 2018 is a nicely aged single Contrade wine from the northern side of the volcano. Vines are at 750 masl and higher. The varietal split is 80% Nerello Mascalese and 20% Nerello Cappuccio. This is a top producer and the vines are over 100 years old. Expect when aged to see similarities with very fine Burgundy. This wine in bottle looks sold out on the PV web site, but they do have magnums for £128. If you can afford it, grab some before someone decides to “tax the rich”. I think in magnum this would be magnificent with perhaps three plus years in the cellar. It will, of course, potentially live a lot longer.

Walter Viberti Santa Maria Barolo “Capalot” 2019, is from a producer I’ll admit to never having come across. It’s a wine that is very nice, very engaging, and at the same time really interesting. I say the latter because its whole feel is very much old school. I’m old enough to have lived through the ridiculous, mostly media-hyped, so-called Barolo wars. Well, media-hyped except for one famous producer burning his father’s big old wood and bringing in some toasty new barriques, and a couple of brothers falling out.

Much as it was all just a bit of a pillow fight in the dorm, this single cru Capalot (from just north of La Morra, the only “Capalot” cru wine I can recall ever seeing) was aged in 1,000-litre old oak casks, as Barolo generally was back in the day. After two years in wood, it is kept another year in bottle before release. And yet this is a fairly approachable wine with a classic floral bouquet and some dark liquorice on a spicy palate. Although I usually age my Barolo, I’d love to see what this tastes like next Christmas.

Bressan Schioppettino 2018 was one of my wines of the day here. From the Friuli region’s autochthonous red variety, this is bottled as Venezia Giulia IGP. We have all heard, I’m sure, about the high concentration of rotundone in Schioppettino, which gives the wine its peppery concentration, maybe with a hint of Szechuan Pepper heat as well. You will find high-toned acids here, with underlying blueberry fruit. It’s quite complex, partly I suspect as it was aged in five types of wood (oak, cherry, pear, chestnut and acacia) and is also very nicely different if not in fact unique. Top producer, stunning wine, which I suspect would benefit from a good many years ageing yet. Hmm, £59 retail. If you can afford it, highly recommended for cellaring. Sometimes the most exciting wines are just out of one’s grasp these days.

Buccia Nera Vin Santo Colli Etruria Centrale DOC 2020 was a lovely way to finish at the Passione Vino table. I didn’t spit this Tuscan Vin Santo. I’ve drunk these wines for decades, but they are now restricted to Christmas treats. This is a very easy drinking version. The nose is fresh and the wine is bright on the tongue, and even though it is just approaching the sweeter end of the VS spectrum these days (sweeter than the nose suggested, but not too sweet), it wasn’t at all cloying. The grapes are dried for four months and then fermented in chestnut and oak. The result is a whole list of fruits (fig, apricot, apples and raisins) on the nose and palate. Like all good Vini Santi, it is long and complex with decent acidity, and 15.5% abv, which is fine for a sipping wine. £37 for 500 ml, which I guess compares not too badly at all with current VS prices, and for these types of wines generally.

So how did we do? I’d say a draw in a very high scoring game, but then I’m only joking, it’s not a competition. My favourite wines here were, as with Carte Blanche’s offering, very hard to choose. Also, these are my own choices, based on both objective and subjective considerations. Try to see whether my notes on the other wines strike a chord with you.

I did say I loved the three wines from Verdicchio, Trentino and Liguria, with the Riesling Renano made by Maso Bergami topping that trio. I’d buy all three, but I would love someone in Edinburgh to stock that Maso Bergami (and tell me). The Vike Vike wine from Sardinia was just so intriguing, very special, but out of my league now. I really did like the A’Vita Rosato from Ciró an awful lot, and that’s certainly in my bracket (but don’t expect your typical pink wine). The Sandro Fay Valtellina Superiore would definitely be on my list, and so would I Custodi’s Aetneus from Etna. In order to cap what could be a long list, and this time an expensive one, I could easily be more than tempted by the Bressan Schioppettino, but I may need to buy some Lottery scratch cards first.

Great wines enthusiastically presented. Part Three will, as I said in my intro to Part One, cover the wines presented by David Morris (Mountain People Wine, Monmouthshire) and more generally, those of Edinburgh-based Element Wines.

Posted in Artisan Wines, Fine Wine, Italian Wine, Passionate Wine, Sicily, Wine, Wine Agencies, Wine Merchants, Wine Tastings | Tagged A'Vita Rosato Calabria, Aldo Viola Krimiso Catarratto Sicily, Arcari & Danesi Franciacorta, Aversa Asprinio Spumante, Bosco Sant' Agnesi Covante Coda di Volpe, Bressan Schioppettino 2018, Buccia Nera Vin Santo, Ca' Liptra Kypra Verdicchio, Calabrian Wine, Castello di Monsanto Chardonnay, Ciró Rosato, Conterno Fantino Barbera d'Alba 2022, Edinburgh Wine Tasting, Etna Wine Sicily, Gaglioppo Grape, Granazza Grape Variety, I Custodi Aetneus 2018 Etna Rosso, I Mandorli Rosso Toscana, Iborboni Cripto Campania Metodo Classico, Italian Wine, La Casetta Pigato Liguria, Maso Bergami Riesling Renano Trentino, Passione Vino at Timberyard, Passione Vino Fine Italian Wines, Pianogrillo Frappato Terre Siciliane, Piemonte Wine, Sandro Fay Cru Valgella 2021, Sardinian Wine, Sergio Genuardi Salgemma 2022 Nero d'Avola, Sicilian Wine, Timberyard Spring Tasting 2025 (Pt 2), Tuscan Chardonnay, Tuscan Wine, Valtellina Superiore, Vike Vike Barbagia Sardinia, Vin Santo Colli Etruria Centrale 2020, Walter Viberti Santa Maria Barolo Capalot 2019 | Leave a comment

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