David Crossley's Wide World of Wine

A Cheesemonger’s Tour de France by Ned Palmer (Book Review)

Posted on 27/01/2025 by dccrossley

You might well ask why a wine blog has a review of a book about cheese? Then again, you might not. Cheese and wine do bear some notable similarities, in that whilst the majority of both cheese and wine are effectively industrial products, made on a large scale, their artisan counterparts are unquestionably products of their terroir, to a greater or lesser extent. Even more so in the case of natural wine, where minimal manipulation and a focus on minimal natural additives bears similarities.

That said, perhaps such an explanation is superfluous because it is certainly true that most lovers of interesting, artisan-made, and especially low-intervention wines will also have a similar interest in, and in many cases a passion for, those artisan cheeses.

Ned Palmer will be a name to jog the memory of subscribers to Wideworldofwine. It was way back in February 2021 that I posted a review of his book A Cheesemonger’s History of the British Isles. That book was brilliant, telling as it did a history of our islands through its cheeses, from Neolithic times to the cheese renaissance of the last quarter of the 20^th Century. I must have liked it a lot (my review says it would surely be one of my books of the year) because I was fairly shocked when I realised it was a whole three years since I read it. No way does it seem that long.

Three years later I am reviewing Ned Palmers latest book, A Cheesemonger’s Tour de France. It follows a loosely similar format to the last book in that the main body of the book gives us eleven chapters on eleven French regions. Each has a main focus on one cheese, although plenty of others are mentioned peripherally. We begin in Seine-et-Marne with Brie, before learning in further chapters about Munster, Époisses, Comté, Salers, Roquefort, Buchette de Manon, Ossau-Iraty, Crottin de Chavignol, the new wave of cheeses from the one-time cheese-free pays of Brittany, and finally Camembert.

Each chapter gives us information about how the cheese is made and what it might taste like at different ages, but we also get history, social history and folk tales woven into the text. Of course, Palmer has a focus on artisan production, whether fermier, or in some cases laiterie, but industrial production is not ignored, even if only to elaborate its negative influence on the AOC regulations, and perhaps on our taste buds.

The author is ever present adding a personal touch. He has a wealth of knowledge and experience which comes through in easy to digest form. I occasionally raised an eyebrow at some of the wine-related comments, but then I know more about wine than Ned does, and he knows a hell of a lot more about cheese. This book reads as a personal travelogue, as he travels through France visiting standout producers in each region, and that makes it more appealing in my view.

The highlighted cheeses are well selected. Some, like Brie and Camembert, are so famous that we might often ignore them in the cheesemongers. That was brought home to me after I randomly decided to buy some truffled Brie de Meaux at Christmas, a contender for my cheese of the year! Others are only well known to those who are serious cheese fiends, like Salers. Others are so much more commonly seen in relatively disappointing industrial form that some might wonder what the fuss is about until they taste a true artisan version, such as Ossau-Iraty made from unpasteurised sheep’s milk up on the estives (high summer pastures).

The book finishes with a short chapter on the future of French artisanal cheesemaking before a directory describing in short fifty-five cheeses, principally those that get a mention in the book as well as those featured for each chapter, along with some further reading and a “how to buy fromage” add-on. I would only suggest “preferably not in a supermarket”, which applies to France, but you can find some edible cheese here, in Waitrose, if you really can’t find a cheesemonger.

In the UK cheesemongers of quality are now fairly easy to find. I am especially lucky to have access to two of Great Britain’s finest within striking distance of where I now live, in Scotland. Ned Palmer gained his stripes working for Mons in London’s Borough Market and at Neal’s Yard Dairy. At least I presume it was Mons as their French business gets many mentions throughout the book. Neal’s Yard Dairy may be better known to most readers, but Mons is truly worth a detour. I remember once being asked what I wanted to do on my birthday and the answer was a trip to Mons.

Any criticisms of the book? Well, no. I mean I risk sounding like a broken record if I mention typos. Editing ain’t wot it used to be. Some books start out all guns blazing but run out of steam, with the author trying desperately to find more to write about. If anything, this one starts sedately and builds up. Perhaps Ned just saved the best until last, as we might do with a cheese platter. I certainly felt he warmed up as he went along, but I’m not saying the early chapters weren’t good. They certainly were. Just perhaps that he got into his stride.

A Cheesemonger’s Tour de France does have some photos scattered throughout the text, but it doesn’t have a nice colour photo to show you what each cheese looks like. For that you would need to go elsewhere. The two books I have found most useful in this regard are:

French Cheeses (Dorling Kindersley, 1996); and
Cheese by Patricia Michelson (pub by Jacqui Small, 2010)

The Dorling Kindersley book is very visual, with only a small amount of information on each cheese. However, Charles de Gaulle famously said France was a country of 246 cheeses (I think?) and the DK book lists an impressive 350.

Patricia Michelson’s book doesn’t only cover France, but it is a beautiful book and I pull it out regularly (it’s a weighty tome so it probably helps my arm muscles as much as it delights my senses). It is more selective in its coverage, but a little more detailed than the DK, and you get to share in the knowledge and insights of another of London’s finest cheesemongers (Her shop, La Fromagerie, is in Marylebone).

However, these books would be entirely complementary shelf companions. Ned Palmer’s Tour is immersive, as any travelogue should be. It captures more of the essence of each of the cheeses featured by way of their terroir, their social history, and allowing us a glimpse into the lives of some of the characters who have the passion to make these cheeses, for being a cheesemaker is not an easy career choice and the best of them still face tough physical work, grinding bureaucracy and very considerable financial pressure.

Indeed, if there was a renaissance in French cheese at the end of the last century, the first half of this century risks seeing artisan cheesemakers going out of business, as seems to be the fate of hundreds of thousands of farms of all kinds across Europe.

Equally, if you are reading this in the UK and you have ever wondered why European artisan cheeses have increased so much in price, well, like wine, the hassles and paperwork involved in crossing our post-Brexit border (made worse in terms of form filling since 2024), have caused many smaller cheese producers, along with wine producers, to seriously question why they bother.

Still, if this book does anything, perhaps it might do for you as it did for me and act as a prompt to buy more cheese.

A Cheesemonger’s Tour de France by Ned Palmer is published by Profile Books (2024, hardback, 374pp, £18.99).

Ned’s book on British Isles Cheeses (an important distinction as Irish Cheese is included)

Posted in Cheese | Tagged A Cheesemonger's Tour de France, Artisan French Cheese, Cheese, Cheese Books, Cheese Travelogue, Cheese Writing, Famous Cheeses of France, French Cheese, Ned Palmer author, The Camembert Story | Leave a comment

40 Maltby Street and Gergovie Wines

Posted on 22/01/2025 by dccrossley

There’s a restaurant in London where the food warms the soul, where the staff are remarkably informal, and where you can access a wine list pretty much unique in London, because that restaurant is tied to an importer of zero-sulphur natural wines. It’s also a restaurant that doesn’t appear on Instagram anywhere near as much as some more fashionable names further east. It is, of course, 40 Maltby Street, and the importing arm is Gergovie Wines.

Gergovie is a plateau of the Massif Central in the Auvergne Region of France, named after a village of the same name, or Gergovia in its former incarnation as the chief oppidum of the Averni people. The fortified village is famous for a battle between the Gauls under Vercingetorix and the Romans under Julius Caesar in 52BCE.

As I hadn’t visited since before Covid I was keen to jump on this opportunity. I’m not usually someone who likes to dine alone, but my wife had an event in the City to go to and I was desperate to get back to 40MS, both for the food and the wine. With an anticipatory rumbling stomach, I was practically queuing outside the door, ready for their 5.30pm opening on a Wednesday.

The first change I noticed on arrival were the new retail wine shelves. A lot of restaurants and wine bars have begun to offer bottles retail as an obvious way to generate a bit of extra revenue. Winemakers Club has been doing it for years, and up here in Edinburgh I pop into Spry Wines or Smith & Gertrude more frequently to buy a bottle or two than I do to eat or drink a glass on the go (sadly).

My reason for visiting 40MS was no less to grab a couple of bottles of Alsace wine (the Dreyer and the Meyer in the photo) than to dine. Gergovie does many things well, not least Auvergne and Ardèche, and Jeff Coutelou, and the list goes on…but I’d put them in the top three UK Alsace importers (natural wine, of course), along with Vine Trail and Tutto Wines. I keep telling people that Alsace is the most exciting region for natural wine in France at the moment, but I still have to travel far and wide if I want to pick and choose my bottles. Anyway, So-long as you check out the restaurant’s opening times you can access the Gergovie range from the shelves as you go in if getting a case sent to you doesn’t work for any reason.

I said above that 40 Maltby Street serves food to warm the soul, and perhaps you can make out some of the dishes on offer on the blackboard menu. I started off with a cheese platter (because they open at 5.30 on a Wednesday but the kitchen doesn’t really kick into action until 6pm).

The extensive Gergovie list is available, but dining alone I decided to go for a couple of wines by the glass, whatever they had open, just for variety.

First up, Eruption 2022 Domaine des Trouillères. This is Gamay d’Auvergne from, of course, the Auvergne, specifically the village of Martres-de-Veyre. Six hectares have been farmed here by Camille and Mikaël Hyvert since 2015. Off limestone/clay terroir on the Puy de Tobize, part of the Massif de Sancy, whole bunch maceration/fermentation, farming is biodynamic and “bon sens paysan” (I love that description). Initially lovely gentle fruit dominates, but this gives way to something blood-like and more savoury. A genuinely joyful wine, but a Gamay to accompany a cheese platter if you want to go red. £28/bottle from Gergovie.

Then Demontre 2021, La Gutina. This is a Garnatxa (Grenache) made by Barbara and Joan Carles Torres at Sant Climent Sescebes on the apparently windswept slopes of the Aspres des Alberes close to the French border. Grenache is their main baby, and it thrives on the poor granite soils. Their farm also grows olives, and of course everything is done with minimal intervention and zero sulphur. This is a medium-bodied wine full of lively fruit with mineral tension and brightness. A wine whose 13% abv (it says 12.85 online) hides beneath abundant fruit and zip. Lots of good Spanish Garnacha’s around, for sure, but this is a nice one and only £25/bottle.

Both wines were lovely. The Grenache/Garnatxa went especially well with the roast lamb, anchovy, bitter leaves and mint, a very tasty dish…I made the right choice. I topped off the meal with a blood orange sorbet and walked it off with an hour-long stroll through a misty City of London.

As far as 40 Maltby Street goes, if you know, you know, but if you don’t, then pay a visit. Closed Sunday, Monday and Tuesday, open 5.30 for dinner on Wednesdays, Thursday to Saturday they serve lunch 12-3pm and dinner 5.30-9.30, no reservations! I like no reservations. First come, first served and zero no-shows. It was quite busy even on a Wednesday by the time I left, around seven. I’m sure the kitchen cope. Everyone working there seemed very happy, with no visible stress. Also check out Gergovie’s portfolio in the on-site shop whilst you are there. I can’t imagine how anyone would not be tempted by a bottle or two.

Before I go, I want to just give you a few personal recommendations from the Gergovie Wines portfolio. Purely subjective as there are quite a few producers I’ve not tried, but all of these would be challenging for a place in a mixed case:

Anything, literally anything, from Alsace (Dreyer, Meyer, Ginglinger, Dirringer)
Jeff Coutelou (Languedoc)
Patrick Boujou & Justine Loisseau (Auvergne)
Dom des Trouillères (Auvergne)
Fabio Gea (Piemonte)
Julien Peyras (Languedoc)
Vincent Marie/No Control (Auvergne)
Lucy Margaux/Anton van Klopper (Adelaide Hills)
Sam Vinciulo (Margaret River)
L’Anglore/Eric Pfifferling (Rhône)
Jean-Yves Péron (Savoie)
La Vigne du Perron (Bugey)
Barranco Oscuro (Alpujarras)
La Gutina (Catalunya)

Posted in Alsace, Artisan Wines, Dining, Natural Wine, Restaurants, Vegan Wine, Wine, Wine Agencies, Wine and Food, Wine Bars, Wine Merchants, Wine Shops | Tagged 40 Maltby Street, Catalonian Garnatxa, Domaine des Trouillères Auvergne, Eruption Gamay d'Auvergne, Gergovie Wines, La Gutina Catalunya, La Gutina Demontre 2021, London Dining, No Added Sulphur, Retail Shop Gergovie Wines, Wines to Go London, Zero Sulphur Wines, Zero-Zero Wines | 3 Comments

Recent Wines December 2024 (Part 2) #theglouthatbindsus

Posted on 13/01/2025 by dccrossley

Part Two of 2024’s last batch of the most interesting wines drunk at home begins with three wines which all, at the time of buying them, cost £26. Remember in Part One I suggested that £26 is the new £18? Doubtless by the time April comes along £26 will have crept to £30, but I think right now that £26 is a kind of sweet spot with natural wines. You won’t feel the earth move, but you’ll get a nice wine with personality. That said, I may be getting complacent because I’m sure that anyone drinking at least the first two wines below would sit up and notice, if perhaps for slightly different reasons.

So, those first three hail from Hungary, Rioja and Montlouis on the Loire. Next is a real oddity, a brilliant wine made by an old friend, so to speak, from other climes who has made a stunning and equally obscure wine on one of the islands off Madeira. Then comes an older vintage of the English Sparkling Riesling that was one of my 2024 wines of the year. We finish 2024’s wines with a lovely Moravian red wine which a friend designated wine of the day at a tasting we both attended in Edinburgh earlier last year.

Freiluftkino Brut 2019, Annamária Réka-Koncz (Barabás, Eastern Hungary)

I’ve had one or two bottles of Annamária’s Traditional Method sparkling wine before, but it has been a while (September 2022 my notes suggest) and I think, as much as I like her wines, I’d forgotten quite how good, and indeed interestingly different, it is.

The name means “open-air cinema”, though I have no idea of its significance, if any. It blends Annamária’s mainstay variety, Királyléanyka, with Furmint, Riesling and Hárslevelü, grown on a complex mix of rhyolite, andesite, dacite and tufa.

The grapes undergo a traditional natural double fermentation with the second taking place in bottle with the liqueur de tirage comprising must from the following vintage. It sees a year on lees in bottle before being disgorged by hand. Just 1,200 bottles were produced in 2019, sealed with a crown cap, not a cork (though to be clear this is not a petnat).

This small production does mean that the wine, like everything this producer makes, spends very little time on the shelves. Think how little comes to the UK. However, by cultivating a relationship with the importer, you can be sure to pick up some bottles of Réka-Koncz when they land.

At five years old, with a year or two in my cellar, it has become a little darker in colour but on the bouquet and palate there is a burst of freshness. Fresh apples seem to dominate the nose, minerality the palate. It’s not a wine with Champagne-like complexity, but it makes up for that with bags of personality and character.

Basket Press Wines is the UK importer for Réka-Koncz but they don’t appear to list any of this winemaker’s cuvées at the moment. My guess is that they will be shipping this spring or early summer. Zainab tells me possibly even as early as March so fingers on the buzzers, but she also told me they do have one or two bits which are not up on the web site. £26 at the time of purchase. We shall see what our import regime has done to the price next vintage.

Rioja “Rayos Uva” 2021, Olivier Rivière (Rioja, Spain)

This is a biodynamic joven-style Rioja made without oak. Olivier Rivière is, as his name suggests, originally from France, from the wider Cognac region, and he envisaged making wine there. He studied winemaking at Bordeaux but then wound up working for Telmo Rodriguez in Spain and never went back. Instead, he started his own operation, in Rioja in 2006, inspired by what Telmo has achieved. He now runs 25 hectares.

This easy-drinking cuvée blends traditional varieties Tempranillo and Garnacha off a terroir of sandstone, clay and limestone. It has grippy tannins with a fresh nose mixing fruit and a savoury twist. The palate definitely shows a savoury side as well as a mix of dark and lighter red fruits. I like the savoury element in a wine that is otherwise fairly uncomplicated. Again, at that £26 price point you get quite a bit for your money. I hesitate to say it but I just wish I could drink more Rioja in this style, saving the more oaky experience for more expensive wines bought to age for years in my cellar.

This is a wine I first tried at the Cork & Cask Winter Wine Fair in Edinburgh in 2023 and I have no idea why it took me just over a year to drink a bottle at home. If anything, I liked it even more than that first taste. Imported by Dynamic Vines.

Chenin Blanc Sec “Les Borderies” 2020, Domaine Les Terres Turones (Loire, France)

Terres Turones is run by Dominique Weiss and Philippe Ivancic from the well-known hamlet of Husseau, just east of Montlouis-sur-Loire. The retailer who sold me this bottle also has a cheaper generic cuvée with a very similar label, but at the price of this one, for £2.50 more, I’d trade up. This is from a 4ha single parcel on clay with flint over a base of tuffeau.

The domaine was only started in 2017 and was certified organic in 2022, but had been in conversion from the beginning. The vines for Les Borderies are thirty years old. Fermentation uses indigenous yeasts, ageing after fermentation is twenty months in demi-muid casks.

The bouquet is very expressive of the grape variety, showing pear, quince and a hint of almond paste. The palate has a little bit of a chalky-mineral texture, decent length and lively fresh acidity. It’s another very good value wine. I had noted that I paid £26 but checking today it appears to be listed at £24. My notes also suggest that it was if anything slightly youthful and might benefit from a little more age. I don’t mean decades, but I do see some potential. However, sometimes with a wine like this you just fancy enjoying it young.

Chenin Blanc is definitely a variety I keep telling myself to drink more of, and I’m forever failing to heed my own advice. The good thing about examples like this, thoughtfully made at a decent price, is that they do help to prod my wallet in the right direction. Same goes for Rioja with the wine above.

Purchased from The Solent Cellar online.

Tinta Negra “Dos Villoes” 2022, Vinho DOP Madeirense, António Maçanita and Nuno Faria (Porto Santo, Portugal)

Porto Santo is an island in the Madeira archipelago, just under 30 miles northeast of Madeira itself, in the North Atlantic Ocean. It’s a tiny island of only around sixteen square miles, with its highest elevation, Pico de Facho, a mere 517 masl. It has a population of around 5,000 people.

I have met António Maçanita twice, albeit quite a number of years ago now. Both times were with Red Squirrel Wines (now merged as Graft Wine), who imported his amazing wines of the Azores Wine Company, although I have also drunk his wines from locations on the Portuguese mainland. He gets around. Nuno Faria, a friend of António’s, is director and owner of the “Michelin three-star” restaurant, 100 Maneiras in Lisbon, but he was born on Porto Santo. This wine is a collaboration between them.

The grape variety is described as “the real Tinta Negra”. I’m not an expert, but I’m assured it is not the same variety as Tinta Negra Mole, that ubiquitous Madeira grape variety which replaced Sercial, Verdelho et al. It’s confusing though, because John Szabo, in Volcanic Wines (Aurum Press, 2016), uses the same name, Tinta Negra, for “by far the most important variety…accounts for 85 per cent of wine production”, here speaking of fortified Madeira.

I guess I’m digressing and it doesn’t matter exactly what variety we have, the wine is magnificent. Porto Santo boasts a mere 14 hectares of grapes today. They grow on dry, chalky soils. Grown organically with low intervention, the vines are over eighty years old and are trellised low to the ground, protected (as António’s vines are on Pico Island in the Azores) by low walls called muros de crochet. The windy slopes mean disease pressure is very low.

What interested António Maçanita here was whether a good wine could be made with a derided grape variety. The answer, certainly for me, is yes it can! The wine is ruby red with a nose of sweet cherry and a hint of liquorice. Both the bouquet and the palate have a great saline quality. Maybe there’s some thyme there too. It is slightly rustic, but in a good way.

I should also mention the bottle. It has that stencilled effect reminding you of an old Madeira. Quite astute as it does leap out from the shelf. Good marketing. Because of its origin it might need it, but not on account of the quality. This is very good indeed and just the kind of wine to interest anyone reading my blog.

Imported by Indigo Wines, my bottle was about £32 from Cork & Cask (Marchmont, Edinburgh), and I also saw it on the shelf at Communiqué Wines (Stockbridge, Edinburgh).

Promised Land Riesling Brut Nature 2014, Charlie Herring Wines (Hampshire, England)

If you are fresh from reading my wines of the year article you will have noticed that one of those chosen was the 2017 vintage of this wine. Some explanation is needed. The 2017 is young right now (though certainly very tasty), but it will blossom into a remarkable wine, another step on Tim Phillips’s journey towards his goal of making the best sparkling wines in the world.

The 2014 is more evolved. Perfectionist that Tim is, he wasn’t really all that happy with his 2014. Personally, and I hope you don’t mind me saying this, Tim, sometimes a winemaker can have a bit of an inward-looking focus on a particular vintage. It’s easy to see the things you don’t like. For me, this wine was extremely enjoyable, all the more so for being a decade old. I dare say the 2017 will be the better of the two vintages by 2027, but I suspect it may still warrant more time than that, ideally, to reach true greatness.

To recap, this is 100% Riesling grown inside the walled clos just inland from the bit of Hampshire coast that faces the Isle of Wight, west of Lymington. Traditional method from organic fruit, minimal intervention, four years on lees and another six years pda. The freshness level is still amazing for a sparkling wine of this age, albeit Riesling, with a balanced alcohol level of 11% abv. The fruit here is richer than currently showing in the ’17. If anything, that fruit is slightly broader than is usual in this cuvée. You get lots of citrus and very good length, to be sure. I think it’s gorgeous and was lucky to get what I think might be a rare bottle.

We opened it for an aperitif and then drank it with a vegan roast dinner (with vegan haggis) with a big storm brewing outside. It was comforting rather than bracing, as one might have said of a younger vintage. Perhaps I can say that it has an almost sensual quality that is rare in a Sparkling Riesling.

The 2014 may be unavailable, mine coming direct from the winery. Do ask Tim, or Les Caves de Pyrene. I grabbed a coffee with Tim about a week ago. He told me he is planning some vinification changes which will make his sparkling wines less available for a couple of years (reminds me of when Raphael Bérêche stopped Reflet d’Antan for a while to increase the age of the perpetual reserve). Makes sense to hoover up anything going sooner rather than later.

Cabernet Moravia 2021, Vykoukal (Moravia, Czechia)

Zdenek Vykoukal is one of those perhaps under-the-radar Czech producers…hang on, aren’t almost all of the Czech producers under the radar? Well, he does make magnificent natural wines off terroir which once saw the horrific Battle of Austerlitz of 1805, known as the battle of the three emperors. The town of Austerlitz, under the Austrian Empire, is now in Czechia and was renamed Slavkov u Brna. Napoleon won a victory that at least led to the Peace of Pressburg and a brief respite in conflict.

I have no idea where the 24,000 dead from the battle ended up, but the terroir on which Vykoukal has his vines located is limestone. Cabernet Moravia, a 1960s crossing of Cabernet Franc and Zweigelt, seems to do especially well on these soils and in this climate, relatively warm and dry.

The wine ferments naturally and sees ten months ageing in used neutral oak followed by six months to settle in stainless steel tanks. This 2021 is gently maturing, by which I mean drinking nicely now but no hurry to drink up. It shows some peppery qualities, reminiscent of Cabernet Franc, but also expresses itself now as nicely rounded and smooth fruit.

You also get some darker bramble fruit acids, surely the Zweigelt/Rotburger element showing. I really like this slight tartness as it balances the smoother fruit which might otherwise come across as more simple-natured. There’s medium weight and I mustn’t forget the hint of dark chocolate on the finish.

My friend Alan March (some time Coutelou denizen) is the one I mentioned in my introduction who declared this his wine of the day at an importer tasting last year. He has a very good palate and appreciation of natural wines, and I think you can take his word for this wine’s quality. It has that chewy fruit, concentrated but not at all dense, which makes it highly versatile. A very satisfying Czech/Moravian natural wine, and not too challenging for anyone new to the region.

The importer is Basket Press Wines. I paid £30.

Posted in Artisan Wines, Czech Wine, English Wine, Hungarian Wine, Natural Wine, Portuguese wine, Spanish Wine, Wine, Wine Agencies | Tagged #theglouthatbindsus, Annamária Réka-Koncz Hungary, António Maçanita, António Maçanita Porto Santo Wine, Cabernet Moravia Grape Variety, Charlie Herring Sparkling Riesling, Chenin Blanc Sec Monbtlouis, Chenin Sec Borderies Terres Turones, Czech Wine, Dominique Weiss and Philippe Ivancic Montlouis, DOP Madeirense, English Sparkling Riesling, Hungarian Wine, Királyleányka Grape Variety, Montlouis-sur-Loire, Moravian Wine, Nuno Faria wine collaboration, Olivier Rivière Rioja "Rayos Uva" 2021, Porto Santo Wine (Madeira), Promised Land Riesling Brut Nature 2014, Réka Koncz Freiluftkino Brut 2019, Recent Wines December 2024 (Pt2), Rioja Rayos Uva 2021, Tim Phillips Charlie Herring Wines, Tinta Negra Dos Villoes 2022, Vykoukal Cabernet Moravia 2021, Zdenek Vykoukal Moravia | 4 Comments

Recent Wines December 2024 (Part 1) #theglouthatbindsus

Posted on 09/01/2025 by dccrossley

Does anyone actually remember December 2024? With the new year now upon us, 1^st December, when I drank the first wine here, seems a very long time ago. That wine was a supermarket Refosco from the Veneto. Here in Part 1, it is followed by a Crémant from the Jura, something a little bit different from England, a salty white from New Zealand, a juicy Austrian red, and a majestic thirteen-year-old German Riesling. All are low intervention wines, except for that first wine. Its inclusion is on account of its interest, but more of that below. Part Two, with six more wines, will follow later.

Refosco 2023 Trevenezie IGT, bottled by Domus Vini for Marks & Spencer (Veneto, Italy)

This is an IGT established originally in 1995, and renamed Trevenezie in 2017. The large zone covers the same ground as the “Delle Venezie” DOC, meaning all of Fruili-Venezia-Giulia and Veneto. That’s around 5,000 hectares. The DOC has a focus on Pinot Grigio, so whilst the IGT may produce far less wine, those wines might be more interesting.

That is certainly is the case with this wine. It is part of UK supermarket Marks & Spencer’s “Found” range, which highlights what, to most people, are obscure grapes. Refosco is autochthonous to this region. I’m sure quite a lot of readers will have tried one before, but I’m equally sure most people generally haven’t.

We have a wine “bottled” by a presumably large wine company and it has no credentials for being organic, nor for its viticulture being sustainable, although it is reassuringly listed as “vegan” on the supermarket’s web site. The wine itself is dark as ink. The bouquet is mainly dark fruits. Blueberry is to the fore, but there’s dark cherry too. The fruit on the palate is dense, but we get texture and grip (I think the wine was aged six months, presumably in stainless steel). There’s also that typically Italian slightly bitter finish which gives a savoury element, and which I think makes such wines more food-friendly.

The winemaker was Giacomo Vedovato and he was using a particular Refosco clone called “peduncle rosso”. That’s probably meaningless for a large-production wine, except that this does have character and personality, expressed most through the wine’s wild edge. I didn’t hesitate to include it here because it has more personality than its price tag suggests. I think it will be a while before I drink a wine quite this cheap that I find worth bringing to wider attention.

That price is £8, available from Marks & Spencer as part of their Found Range. Waitrose supermarket has a similar range, called “Loved and Found”, and I’m about to drink something genuinely obscure from that – the Aranel variety, from Australia’s Riverina region.

Crémant du Jura « Indigène » Extra Brut, Domaine A&M Tissot (Jura, France)

If you read my “wines of the year” article published a week ago you will have come across my inclusion of this wine for the month of December. The rest of this first part, and the second part which follows, show just how much competition Stéphane Tissot was up against to claim one of my twelve spots, one for each month of 2024.

To clear things up, as we always do when it comes to this producer, Domaine A&M Tissot is named after André and Mireille, the parents of the now renowned Stéphane. Stéphane runs this domaine, located on a lane to the left of the church in Montigny-les-Arsures (close to Arbois) with his wife, Bénédicte. The biodynamic wines they make are as fine as any in the Jura, and one or two are as fine as any in France.

As with the various Dupasquier domaines in Savioe, there are other Tissot domaines in and around Arbois and some have a better reputation than others. I get annoyed when the occasional wine merchant importing the wines of one of the other Tissots uses just the surname in a confusing (to customers) way (rant over, but some do the same with “Overnoy”). Surely no one would argue against this particular Tissot being in a class of its own.

This Traditional Method sparkling wine is made from four varieties. We have 50% Chardonnay and 40% Pinot Noir, with a little dash, 5% each, of Trousseau and Poulsard. Ageing before bottling for the second fermentation is in oak. The unusual thing about this wine is that the prise de mousse was, at this time, made using the fresh must from his Vin de Paille, rather than a sugar solution. I’m not sure why but this wine, disgorged in June 2018, was one of the last Indigène to use this technique. Stéphane now uses frozen must.

So, this has seen six years post-disgorgement ageing, and it always shows as one of the finest wines to be labelled as Crémant in France. The acids are still fresh and the spine of the wine has a brittle delicacy, and yet there is that roundness of fruit from ageing, along with some more bready tertiary elements. You get richness, and you get a nuttiness. There is definitely plenty of yeast autolysis to get fans of aged “Champagne” excited. A gorgeous, complex, wine that surely Champagne afficionados would love as much as fans of Le Montrachet should love Stéphane’s Clos de La Tour de Curon Chardonnay.

This bottle was purchased at the domaine’s shop in Arbois. In the UK expect to pay around £40-£45, perhaps from Lay & Wheeler, Berry Bros, Oxford Wine Co, Shrine to the Vine, Gnarly Vines and The Sampler.

Little Bit 2023, Westwell Wines (Kent, England)

This is the wine that is a little bit different, excuse my pathetic pun. Westwell, as you may know, is one of my very favourite English producers, and for a while they have been making excellent still wines alongside their sparkling output from vineyards on the slopes of The Downs, along the old pilgrim route to Canterbury. This wine is something of an experiment.

When Adrian Pike and his team press the grapes for the Westwell sparkling wines they do so gently, in order to extract less of those elements which would intrude on those wine’s undoubted finesse. That leaves a fair bit of juice in the grapes that might go to waste. They have been experimenting with the juice of what is the third pressing of Pinot Noir and Pinot Meunier and in 2023 put this juice into stainless steel tank, where it underwent “a constantly evolving wild ferment”.

The result is to say the least both tasty and really interesting. The bouquet is gently floral and (red) fruity. The palate has plenty of red fruits from what in any case was a very fruity vintage, and there’s a little bit of texture too, which grounds it all. The alcohol is just 10%.

The resulting wine has the delicacy of a Rosé, matched by a pale pink/peach skin colour. There’s just a little grapefruit nip on the finish. It’s great fun, even more so as the price tag is just £16. I’m not sure how much they bottled, but this is a genuine bargain for a fun, delicate, natural wine. Westwell wines are always reasonably priced, compared to what some producers ask for their still wines in England, but this one is even more so.

This bottle came direct from the estate as a rare sample for me to try. My opinions here are genuine. I loved it for what it is. I haven’t been alone in saying positive things on social media.

Salty White 2022, The Hermit Ram (North Canterbury, New Zealand)

This is also something of an experimental wine, this time from Theo Coles, the master of NZ artisan natural wine from organically grown fruit. We have North Canterbury-grown Sauvignon Blanc, Riesling and Pinot Blanc fermented in a mix of stainless steel and amphora, with two barrels oxidatively aged, developing a layer of flor. It all sounds scarily “un-New Zealand”, doesn’t it, encouraging flor in a country whose wines began with the super-cleanliness of their dairy industry transferring to their modern wines. You wonder that this wine was allowed to leave the country.

The colour is quite deep gold. The first notes on the nose are pineapple, then tangerine. As you’d expect from the name, the wine is pretty packed with salinity. I’d say more so than any overt flor-induced nuttiness, yet there are some flavours of hazelnut which appear after a while, along with zippy acids and a pleasant hint of bitterness, or perhaps less bitter but just savoury.

The result is slightly away from the norm, certainly for New Zealand, but I think this is the most exciting of Theo’s always exciting wines I’ve drunk for a while. You might not immediately say “flor” but it does have a slightly oxidative feel under the fresh acidity.

This was £26 from Cork & Cask (Edinburgh), imported by Uncharted Wines. Excellent value in today’s market, though I’m tempted to say that in our post-Brexit, post-inflation, market, £26 is the new £18. The first three wines in Part 2 (to come) all cost £26 as well. I would say that all four represent a great price/quality ratio, or “bang for your buck” as others might say.

Malinga Rotburger 2021, Weingut Heiss (Niederösterreich, Austria)

Back in November 2023 I drank Christophe Heiss’s “Hotrot”, a blend of Zweigelt, St-Laurent and Blauburger. This wine is a varietal Zweigelt, but Christophe has chosen to label it with its alternative grape name, Rotburger. Herr Zweigelt, after whom this crossing between St Laurent and Blaufränkisch was named, seems to have had a dubious wartime reputation and I think more people are beginning to use the Rotburger nomenclature, except for export to America, where for some unfathomable reason it is a grape name that doesn’t appear to market positively.

The winery is at Engabrunn, in Kamptal, east of Krems and a little north of the Danube as it flows towards Vienna. Kamptal is not a region that comes first to mind for Austrian low-intervention wines, but there are a few great young producers now making natural wines here. Christophe Heiss is making some lovely wines with pristine and vibrant fruit as a theme.

What we have here is a simple wine, but that is by no means faint praise. Concentrated dark bramble fruit, ripe, but with a delicious bite to it like a good bramble (blackberry to you all down in England) jam. It is totally well balanced with 11.5% abv. Although it would be a great summer red wine, slightly chilled, it was equally good cellar-cold in December in our snug Scottish abode.

Modal Wines imports this. I keep drinking absolute cracking bargains from Modal. I’m not sure how Nic Rizzi does it, but he has a nose for bargains. It was purchased retail from Smith & Gertrude (Portobello, Edinburgh), but outside of Edinburgh contact Modal Wines direct for online sales. Both have sold out of this Rotburger, and the “Hotrot” (there’s still some Pinot Noir listed by Modal online), but hopefully new vintages will be available soon. Price perhaps around £25.

Lorchhäuser Seligmacher Riesling 2011, Eva Fricke (Rheingau, Germany)

Eva is certainly one of the finest producers in the Rheingau and I have been lucky to have drunk several bottles of this lovely wine. As all things come to pass, this was my last bottle. It’s one of those wines which I would have loved to share with other lovers of German wine, but that never worked out. All the more reason I need to shout out loud for this.

It just so happens that 2011 was Eva Fricke’s first vintage of her own. It makes this wine all the more remarkable for its quality, not least because it is considered an entry level cuvée among her 17 hectares of specific sites that she farms. The quality comes from Eva’s international experience, plus her stint as chief winemaker at Leitz.

Of course, experience is one thing but it cannot alone explain the precision here, coupled with fruit and complexity and intensity in a thirteen-year-old wine. Stone fruit, white early summer floral notes and a squeeze of lime form a strong but elegant bouquet, lime leading the palate’s acidity beside mouth-filling peach, orange and a hint of lychee. It’s dry but not bone dry. It seems to me to perfectly express the terroir’s high concentration of quartz in its mineral edge.

This is thrilling wine which seems to combine a lightness of acids dancing on the palate with a more solid fruit core (and 12.5% abv). It’s in a very good place right now. My bottles are from too far back to remember their origin. I would try Lay & Wheeler or Berry Brothers, where you may find some for around £120 for six in bond, which once more is nothing for the quality here.

Posted in Artisan Wines, Austrian Wine, English Wine, German Wine, Italian Wine, Jura, Natural Wine, New Zealand Wine, Wine, Wine Agencies | Tagged #theglouthatbindsus, Austrian Wine, Cheapest Wine Drunk in 2024, Christoph Heiss Rotburger, Crémant du Jura Indigène, Domaine A&M Tissot, Eva Fricke Rheingau, German Dry Riesling, Hermit Ram North Canterbury, Jura Sparkling Wine, Kamptal Wine, Little Bit 2023 Westwell Wines, Lorchhäuser Seligmacher Riesling 2011, Malinga Rotburger 2021, Marks & Spencer Found Wines, New Zealand Wine, North Canterbury NZ Wine, Recent Wines December 2024 (Pt1), Refosco, Rheingau Wine, Rotburger or Zweigelt, Stéphane Tissot Montigny-les-Arsures, The Hermit Ram Salty White 2022, Theo Coles The Hermit Ram, Trevenezie IGT, Westwell Wines Kent | 2 Comments

Wines of the Year 2024 #theglouthatbindsus

Posted on 02/01/2025 by dccrossley

In the “Recent Wines” articles I publish each month I always stress that the wines I include are not the most expensive, smartest and poshest wines but the wines I find most interesting, and hopefully thrilling. This means you might get a supermarket Refosco next to an Overnoy Savagnin next to a bottle of Dom Pérignon, all of which really did get drunk at home last year.

Following the same rule my wines of the month are the ones I found the most thrilling. Sometimes, they are the first wine I drank from a new producer, when you get that incomparable feeling of “oh boy, this is good!”.

You just have to remember that I am not afraid to let a degree of subjectivity enter the equation, but then you don’t read me for white coat analysis and points out of 100, do you! If I was going all “wine competition” on you then perhaps I’d be hard pushed to justify every one of my choices, but on the grounds of wines that really made me sit up and take notice, I certainly can.

We do see a few regions cropping up more than once. Czechia and Alsace get a couple of mentions each. England gets three, perhaps a first but why not? Despite my deep love for the Jura, I have perhaps not gone overboard on their inclusion in previous years. I think 2024 blows any such restraint out of the water. I even had more Juras screaming to be included, including a wine from one of my producers to watch in 2025, Maison Maenad/Katie Worobeck (see my Review of the Year, published 30 December). In an attempt at just a bit of variety, there’s a Burgundy, both a Mosel and a Moselle, one wine from Oregon, and a Piemontese to complete the team.

JANUARY:

Cabernet Franc 2022, Mira Nestarcová (Moravia, Czechia)

One of my winemakers to watch for 2025, all of Mira’s wines are at the very least on a level with her famous husband’s. Unpruned vines, dark-fruited concentrated zippiness here. One of four cuvées imported by Basket Press Wines, around £30. They are all wonderful, but I would also recommend the Sauvignon Blanc. You’ll be surprised.

I also want to give a shout to Artefact 2021, Castlewood Wines (Devon, England). Luke Harbor (Pig Hotels) is behind this amphora Bacchus collaboration, and it surely wins best packaging for both the bottle shape and label. The most recent label is even better, but the wine is really good too, which is what counts.

FEBRUARY:

Beaune 1er Cru “Les Grèves” 2015, Le Grappin (Burgundy, France)

Andrew and Emma Nielsen continue to deliver some of the best value wines in Burgundy and this white Chardonnay from one of the often-unloved Premier Crus of Beaune itself is no exception. Forty-five-year-old vines, six barrels made so gently (no lees stirring etc), salinity galore, depth, a bit of texture…this was magnificent. My last bottle of three, purchased direct as a primeur. Now circa £60, I think.

MARCH:

Chien Noir/Chat Blanc 2021, Lambert Spielmann (Domaine in Black)(Alsace, France)

Always get a Lambert in, I say. Rising star Spielmann has a few hectares mostly around Epfig. Pinot Auxerrois off clay, the juice was infused with Pinot Noir skins from the previous vintage for a week before pressing. Think cranberry juice with strawberry and raspberry, refreshing, definitely exciting. Imported by Tutto Wines, this one purchased from the much-missed Noble Fine Liquor.

APRIL:

Promised Land Riesling Brut Nature 2017, Charlie Herring Wines (Hampshire, England)

Whether Tim Phillips’s 2017 Promised Land is better than the 2014 I drank very recently I’m not sure, but traditional method Sparkling Riesling of this quality is hard to find in Germany, let alone England. Four years on lees, minimal sulphur, at this stage it’s for acid hounds like me, but of course the acid backbone is far from all there is to this wine, which is also as delicate as the frost on my drive. Emotionally, my favourite Charlie Herring cuvée. Try Solent Cellar, Les Caves de Pyrene, or one of Tim’s open days.

MAY:

Chardonnay 2021, Jonas Dostert (Mosel, Germany)

Jonas is a star among rising stars of Germany’s wider Mosel region. German Chardonnay can be much underrated but this was just so good. Large used oak, almost zero intervention (minimal sulphur only if needed), this balances poise and charm with just the right amounts of freshness and fat on the bone. €28 from Feral in Bordeaux, Newcomer Wines began importing Dostert this year but I’m yet to see the Chardonnay in the UK.

JUNE :

Elbling “Roches Liquide” 2022, Racines Rebelles (Moselle, Luxembourg)

Kaja Kohv farms the opposite slope over the river (though in Luxembourg) from her friend, Jonas Dostert, which is indirectly how I came across this talented newcomer who worked with Giaconda (Beechworth, Vic) before Abi Duhr, Luxembourg’s best-known vigneron. Elbling is a totally maligned variety, but the key to Kaja’s is low cropping old vines and long lees-ageing (likewise Dostert’s Elbling, which I think may be available in the UK). For lack of traditional complexity, it makes up for with appley freshness and total glou. €24 from Feral Art & Vins, Bordeaux.

June also gives a shout to Morgon “Courcelette” 2010, Jean Foillard (Beaujolais, France), perhaps the most remarkable of the Foillards I glugged and sipped-through in 2024. We drank some genuinely great wines for our anniversary (a significant one) but this was my favourite. Now, for the current vintage, it will probably cost you around £40, still a relative bargain.

JULY: A tie, I’m afraid. I can’t separate these two

Freedom Hill Vineyard Pinot Blanc 2022, Kelley Fox Wines (Oregon, USA)

Kelley’s Willamette Valley wines are among my favourite in North America. We so often see her Pinot Noir cuvées lauded, but I have a real soft spot for this, one of the finest Pinot Blancs in the world. The soils (marine sediment) play a big part, as does Kelley’s intuitive winemaking. There is also a sensual quality to this wine (maybe the hints of tropical fruits). As it opens, not too cold, it builds a surprising degree of complexity if you let it. Imported by Les Caves de Pyrene.

Dark Horse Brut 2022, Petr Koráb (Moravia, Czechia)

Petr Koráb so often seems to provide the best petnat of the year, and we also have another Czech wine, which only goes to illustrate what most wine buyers are missing when they have none on their shelves. In fact, I’m beginning to think having one or two Moravians is the sign of a wine shop at the cutting edge…and increasing numbers are onto it. This is a red petnat, blending Amber Traminer, Karmazin (aka Blaufränkisch) and Hibernal, showing zesty red fruits and a bit of an edge. Quite intense, a petnat with attitude. Basket Press Wines imports, good luck in finding any.

AUGUST: In holiday mood, I’m going to mention three astonishing wines. The second and third are famous, the first is for me in the same class. All come from a region (Jura) I first visited in the 1980s but which has since become so famous that many of its wines are beyond my pocket, even when offered for sale to mere mortals.

Vin Jaune 2015, Domaine de La Loue (Port-Lesney): Catherine Hannoun is an exceptional winemaker and, from what I have been told, an exceptional person too. This is the first VJ of hers to pass my lips. The most elegant one I had drunk in quite a while, I’d say. Having suffered “significant grape theft” in 2023 (cf Wink Lorch, JWTYO p64), Catherine deserves our support.

Savagnin Arbois-Pupillin 2012, Domaine Houillon-Overnoy (Pupillin): This is beyond world class, a sensational wine on any table, among any lineup, but not for the narrow-minded. A long list of found ingredients would clog the page, the level of complexity immense. Almost certainly the finest wine drunk in 2024.

Vin de Paille 2011, François Mossu (Voiteur): Alexandra is the talented public face of the domaine these days but for the sake of nostalgia it is wonderful to still be able to drink the remarkable straw wines of her father, the “Pope of Vin de Paille”(said to be retiring but still there, behind the scenes). Chardonnay, Savagnin and Poulsard inhabit this half-bottle, turned by the magician’s hand from mere grape must into essence of fig, nutmeg, curry spices and ginger (and more).

All of these wines will be very hard to source in the UK now, in our post-Brexit reality. If you have deep pockets, you may be lucky.

SEPTEMBER:

“Lamilla” [2016], Cascina Borgatta (Piemonte, Italy)

Emilio Oliveri and Maria Luisa Barizzone have farmed at Tagliolo Monferrato since the 1960s and are now in their 80s. Their now reduced domaine of just 2ha of vines dates from the 1940s to 1960s. Old vines and old-fashioned wines, as with this concrete-aged Dolcetto. Sold as a table wine, this is rich and complex, and also a chunky 14% abv. Only released when deemed ready, quite unique. From Cork & Cask, Edinburgh via importer Modal Wines.

OCTOBER:

Ortega Tradition 2023, Westwell Wines (Kent, England)

This is one of Westwell’s more inexpensive wines, yet it is among the very best value wines made in the UK. Why does this beat off a selection of very good wines from super-obscure regions and countries to take the accolade for this month? Because the essence of this wine is purity and its single purpose is to bring a few moments of joy in a glass, and for less than £20. Adrian Pike has surreptitiously worked wonders here, simplicity at its very best without frills. We even drank another on Christmas Day, among the four bottles I took to a big family lunch. Also from Cork & Cask, this time via Westwell’s agent Uncharted Wines.

NOVEMBER:

Quand Le Chat N’est Pas Là 2021, Domaine Jean-Pierre Rietsch (Alsace, France)

Pinot Gris off the sand and limestone of Mutzig’s Stierkopf, whole berries macerated nineteen days (giving colour) in J-P’s Mittelbergheim cellars, aged in foudre, zero added sulphur. Quite delicate, a lovely ethereal nose of red fruits, and with 12.5% abv, so balanced. Around £30, Cork & Cask smashing it again, imported by Wines Under the Bonnet.

DECEMBER:

Crémant du Jura “Indigène” Extra Brut, Domaine A&M Tissot (Jura, France)

I first met Stéphane Tissot when he had just returned to his parents’ (André and Mireille, hence the domaine name), taking over winemaking in (I think) 1990. He was introduced by a proud mother and father because he’d been working some vintages overseas when few if any Jura folks did. He’s since become one of the region’s most famous sons. His range is big, but this traditional method sparkling wine (50% Ch, 40% PN with 5% each Poulsard and Trousseau) was at the time (disgorged June 2018 after six years on lees) given a prise de mousse from Vin de Paille must instead of a sugar solution, a practice no longer carried out by Stéphane and Bénédicte. Rich, nutty, very complex (some wood ageing). Today the same cuvée will cost around £45. Try Shrine to the Vine/Keeling Andrew occasionally, Gnarly Vines, or The Sampler.

So, rather more than twelve wines of the year. This list gives only a tiny glimpse of the breadth of my drinking. I don’t set out to be obscure but I am a voracious devourer of the unusual and quirky, and by my standards the wines listed for 2024 are quite “normal”. It’s always frankly almost impossible to choose a single wine from each month, as looking back for this article shows me. That said, I’m proud to be able to recommend all of these wines. The classic, posh, wines I drank in 2024 will have plenty of advocates without me.

I avoided naming a single “Wine Book OTY” in my Review of the Year, but here, as I intimated earlier, the WOTY (short drum roll but no interminable pause like you get on opiate television) was the Houillon-Overnoy Savagnin from 2012, drunk and worshiped in August. I’ve no idea if or when another wine from this legendary address will pass my lips, but even “infrequently” may be a touch optimistic. I won’t forget this one in a hurry.

Stay adventurous.

Posted in Alsace, Arbois, Artisan Wines, Beaujolais, Burgundy, Christmas and Wine, Czech Wine, English Wine, Fine Wine, German Wine, Italian Wine, Jura, Mosel, Natural Wine, North American Wine, Piemonte, Wine, Wine Agencies | Tagged #theglouthatbindsus, Alsace Wine, Beaune 1er Cru Blanc, Best Jura Vin de Paille, Cascina Borgatta Dolcetto "Lamilla", Castlewood Wines and Luke Harbor, Castlewood Wines Artefact Bacchus, Catherine Hannoun Port-Lesney, Charlie Herring Promised Land Brut Nature 2017, Crémant du Jura Indigène, Czech Natural Wine, Devon Amphora Bacchus, Domaine A&M Tissot Indigène, Domaine de La Loue Vin Jaune 2015, English Sparkling Riesling, Foillard Morgon Courcelette 2010, François Mossu Vin de Paille 2011, German Chardonnay, Houillon-Overnoy Savagnin 2012, Jean-Pierre Rietsch Quand Le Chat..., Jonas Dostert Chardonnay, Kaja Kohv Vigneronne, Kelley Fox Freedon Hill Pinot Blanc, Lambert Spielmann Chien Noir/Chat Blanc, Le Grappin Beaune Les Grèves 2015, Luxembourg Wine, Mira Nestarcová Cabernet Franc, Moravian Wine, Mosel Chardonnay, Oregon Pinot Blanc, Petr Korab Dark Horse Petnat, Racines Rebelles Elbling Roches Liquide, Racines Rebelles Luxembourg, Stéphane & Bénédicte Tissot, Stephane Tissot Montigny-les-Arsures, Tim Phillips Charlie Herring Wines, Westwell Ortega Classic 2023, Westwell Wines Kent, Willamette Valley Pinot Blanc, Wines of the Year 2024 | 1 Comment

Review of the Year 2024 #theglouthatbindsus

Posted on 30/12/2024 by dccrossley

In looking back at 2024, the format follows previous years. Here, I will give you a few boring statistics before mentioning the highlights of my year. I like to mix it up, some wine things (wine books, tastings, rising stars to watch, that sort of thing) and some music (my other passion), both listening to and reading about. It gives a flavour of my 2024.

My wines of the year will follow in a separate article. In theory there’s a wine for each month, and twelve clear winners get a plug, but sometimes there is another wine which runs it close, or perhaps a classic, well-known, wine that perhaps didn’t get WOTM purely for that reason, so they get a mention. That article comes soon.

I said we shall begin with some boring statistics, but actually I think readers are interested in some of these, especially finding out which articles have been the most read in the year. We have seen a different selection in 2024, with some old favourites, and some long-time chart toppers still proving popular. If any take your fancy, check them out.

The figures are skewed because by far the most hits are on my home page, and therefore whatever has most recently been published at the time. The following dozen are therefore articles, or search terms, which have been specifically looked for. So far this year I have written fifty-two articles including this one, and my site has had just over 52,000 views (as of 30 December). That is pleasingly close to my best year so far (2021) which saw 52,809 views. I am not sure how close I shall get to that by midnight on 31 December, but I’m happy that writing all this stuff is apparently worthwhile.

Tourist Jura: Although I added a paragraph pointing out the things that are now out of date in this 2020 article, it continues to prove popular.
Tongba, A Study of Emptiness: Low alcohol Tibetan fermented millet drink that empties body and mind. Oddly enough it has less effect the higher the altitude (2016).
Extreme Viticulture in Nepal: Pataleban Estate (2019 visit).
Vin Jaune: A homage to one of my favourite wine styles (2023).
Jura Wine Ten Years On by Wink Lorch (Book Review)(August 2024). Only published in August and still the fifth most searched article of the year. Well done, Wink, it’s a great book.
Pergola Taught: Yes, we can learn a lot from Pergolas, on several levels (2021)
The Solent Cellar: one of my series looking at great independent wine shops, this one in Lymington, Hampshire (April 2024).
The New Viticulture by Jamie Goode: (Book Review)(2023). Jamie’s big one…how we do it and what we can achieve when we do things differently is my take on this important work.
Rewilding Bordeaux, Feral Art et Vin: Russell and Sema Faulkner’s amazing natural wine shop in the centre of Bordeaux’s old city (February 2024). Compare their prices to ours in the UK and you may cry, and what taste they have!
Butlers Wine Cellar: Another wonderful indie wine shop, this one a Brighton institution (March 2024)
Wines of the Aveyron: I first visited this old wine region in 1989. Since then, it has crept onto the wine map and into our natural wine consciousness (2020).
Paradise Lost: A eulogy for two much-missed winemakers, Pascal Clairet of Domaine de la Tournelle (Arbois, Jura) and Dominique Belluard (Domaine Belluard, Savoie). Both are missed (2021).

My Blog, Wideworldofwine, was read by people in 119 countries in 2024. Around 32,700 views were from addresses in the UK. The USA follows (5,100), then followed by France, Australia and Nepal (the latter with 1,300 views). Eighteen of those 119 countries had just one hit apiece, but I’d love to know what those solitary readers from places like Vanuatu, Ethiopia, Laos, Kyrgyzstan and the Aland Islands read? I was a little disappointed to see only two views from Bolivia, seeing as I know two people living or working there.

I wrote six book reviews about newly published wine books in 2024. I’m going to part with tradition this time and not name one Wine Book of the Year because all of these books warrant a place on the shelf of any serious wine geek.

I’ve already mentioned Wink Lorch’s Jura Wine Ten Years On, an essential read for any Jura fan, and a well-timed and much needed update. So much has happened there in ten years. Camilla Gjerde gave us another excellent people-focused book, Natural Trailblazers. It features a group of people who are tackling the big issues in wine, but they are not all winemakers. Some get a mention further on in this article.

Natural Wine, No Drama by Honey Spencer is a real feelgood read about the natural wine movement, which she has been at the heart of for many years (despite her young age). It ranges from cutting edge producers to ways to enjoy natural wine. Max Allen is my favourite author writing on Australian wine, and having shouted loud that we are no longer seeing enough Australian artisan wines on the UK market in 2024, this book, Alternative Reality (about the Australian Alternative Varieties Wine Show) was timely. There’s an awful lot of great wine we never see.

Just before Christmas I reviewed two contrasting books. Pascaline Lepeltier’s (translated into English) One Thousand Vines is definitely a very important work. For its scope, detail and future perspective, it requires a focused read but will act as an important reference for many years to come. By way of contrast, Jamie Goode on Wine is a lighter read than his last, equally important, book. For a tenner you get forty-plus essays on everything from viticulture and winemaking to more philosophical questions. It’s the perfect size and price and will provide thought-provoking entertainment on wine’s bigger picture in easily digestible pieces.

During 2024 I went to several tastings and met some new wine people, some of whom you will doubtless hear more of in 2025. I do really miss my old wine friends from London and the South of England, which is why it was so good that there was a Real Wine Fair in 2024. What Les Caves de Pyrene, and Doug Wregg and the team, put on here is incomparable. I get to taste the best natural wines available in the UK and to meet most of those friends. The fun continued for me at Noble Rot Soho, for an equally incomparable small after party. Poulet and morilles in Vin Jaune was the star. That was my best meal of 2024 (Reviewed 20 June, following three Real Wine articles).

The best of the Edinburgh tastings in 2024 saw Newcomer Wines show their wares at Montrose (Timberyard’s new sister), whilst Modal Wines and Basket Press Wines both hit Spry Wines at the top of Leith Walk for their trade tasting venue. All of 2024’s tastings were good (Jamie Goode’s Bulgarian masterclass at the Hotel du Vin, Bergerac’s Maison Wessman at Tipo and Ally Wines in Stockbridge come to mind), but for one or two fabulous new discoveries, especially from Spain’s Gredos mountains, from Portugal (various regions) and from New South Wales, Graft Wine’s tasting at Hawksmoor in October would be hard to beat.

I did miss some big ones whilst being away. Tutto had a trade tasting, and Timberyard hosted their famous Wild Wine Fair once again. Equally, having been to Cork & Cask’s Winter Wine Fair in 2022 and 2023, I was sorry to be on holiday and miss that. I hope the small indie merchants and importers keep plugging away at the Scottish market. Their wines deserve to be in the shops.

As an aside, if anyone from Tutto reads this, could you let me know who is taking wines from you up in Edinburgh, as I know you can’t deliver to private customers here.

As for the wine shops, well a few of those I try to order from have featured in my most read articles. I did also write about Edinburgh’s Cork & Cask in October, and they remain the Edinburgh retailer I have bought most wine from in 2024. However, I must thank Smith & Gertrude, Spry Wines, Valvona & Crolla, Winekraft, and a new discovery, Communiqué Wines, for the wonderful bottles you are introducing to Edinburgh, and in most cases to budding fans of natural and low-intervention wines up here. Spry, the restaurant, and Montrose are smashing it with food and natural wine’s symbiotic relationship.

You may have read a few reviews of cider, or at least a few more than usual this year. That follows a couple of visits to Aeble Cider Bar and Shop over at Anstruther (Fife). I shall hope to continue to visit them in 2025.

I want to mention some STARS OF 2024. These five winemakers were all discoveries I made during 2024, when I first tasted their wines, the exception being the last one below, whose now solo output found a UK importer this year. They all have an extremely bright future if economics and harvests favour them.

Mira Nestarcová (Moravia, Czechia): Mira makes her own wines, and if you think she is in the shadow of her more famous husband, Milan Nestarec, you are wrong. She fashions a small range of varietal wines from unpruned and low intervention vines which are so exciting. From Basket Press Wines.
Las Pedreras (Sierra de Gredos, Spain): First tasted at Graft Wine’s Edinburgh tasting in October, a friend visited them subsequently. A real find by the Graft team because these people are stars of tomorrow.
Maison Maenad (Jura, France): Canadian-born Katie Worobeck has an impeccable CV and practises regenerative viticulture in Jura’s south, near Orbagna, not far from Ganevat, with whom she worked on moving to the region. Read about her in Camilla Gjerde’s book (mentioned above, books of the year). I was introduced to her by Russell at Feral (Bordeaux).
Racines Rebelles (Moselle, Luxembourg): Kaja Kohv was originally from Estonia but is now making outstanding and original wines on the banks of the Moselle (as the Mosel is called there). Another introduction from Feral in Bordeaux, Kaja was introduced to Russell there by that rising star of Germany’s wider Mosel region, Jonas Dostert.
Yannick Meckert (Alsace, France): I was introduced to Yannick’s wines when he was in partnership with Vanessa Letort (Du Vin aux Liens, imported by Sevslo Wines in Glasgow). Yannick has since gone solo, making wine near Obernai. He was swiftly pounced on by the astute Tutto Wines, who now import his wines, which he will find increasingly expensive now, on the UK market, where quite a few of us have realised his potential. Again, head for Camilla Gjerde’s “Natural Trailblazers” (p199) to read more about Yannick, along with friends Florian Beck-Hartweg and Jean-Mark Dreyer.

Indulge me a little with the non-wine stuff. If I had to give up either wine or music, I’m afraid it would have to be wine. I don’t only read about wine and music but two of my best reads of 2024 were music books.

Bass Culture by Lloyd Bradley (Penguin, 2001) for some reason had passed me by until I saw a friend was reading it. It’s effectively a history of Jamaican music, including ska, reggae and beyond, made in Jamaica and in England as well. It goes deep and it truly re-ignited a musical passion I had in the 1970s. Thankfully I still have almost all of those 70s albums as they are hard to get hold of in some cases today.

Rebel Music – Music as Resistance by Joe Mulhall (Footnote, 2024) is a reminder that in an increasingly nasty world, some things are worth fighting for, and that music has played its part in a number of struggles of one kind or another. In a few cases it still does.

My son bought me Rebel Music. My daughter is well known for her ability to find all kinds of wonders in charity shops. Aside from many items of clothing, she found Electric Wizards – A Tapestry of Heavy Music. Its scope is far wider than you might think. Written by JR Moores (2021).

As for listening to music, I was introduced by my son to a new record label this year, Analog Africa. Through them I’ve discovered disco guitar bands from Somalia and Cumbia Amazonica from Peru, but topping the list has to be an artist called Bitori whose recording “Legend of Funaná” was put out on Analog Africa in 2016, but which I discovered this year. Hot, danceable, accordion music from Cape Verde (AALP 081). It really is that good.

Joint record of the year, and equally exciting, was a Christmas present from my son. The band is Bab L’Bluz and the album is called “Swaken”. It’s like psychedelic blues rock meets Moroccan/North African trance rhythms. Recorded and released this year on Realworld, LPRW259.

Also, in 2024 we saw the release of Romance, the new record from Fontaines DC, which vies with Skinty Fa (2022) as their best so far (IMHO). XL Recordings, XL1436LP.

Another ’24 favourite is the latest release from BBC3 New Generation Artist and Mercury nominee Fergus McCreadie. A local boy, I saw him this year in Edinburgh with his jazz trio and friends to promote this album, and then later playing the Tango of Astor Piazzolla and others with an amazing ensemble in a small market town as part of the Lammermuir Festival. The album is called “Stream”.

Finally, I’m a big fan of ace bassist Stanley Clarke. My son-in-law’s brother lives in New York and he found a double live album, “I Wanna Play for You”, for just $14.99 second hand. I have temporarily stolen it. It seems to go for over £100 in the UK, which perhaps shows how crazy vinyl prices are here. I guess there’s just more vinyl over there, and less of a frenzy. Anyway, the LP includes musicians such as Jeff Beck, George Duke, Steve Gadd, Stan Getz and many more. You can get this on CD but I’m told some of the best tracks from this double album have been removed. I have until mid-January to make the most of it on vinyl and then I might just cave and buy it on CD.

Unusually I made no trips to overseas vineyards this year, though visiting Tim Phillips’s vines in Hampshire is always a genuine treat that cannot be beat. I wrote about that in “The Wonderful World of Charlie Herring” (23 August). Otherwise, my visits were to Nepal, plus a couple of trips north, to the vine-free Highlands. However, if you like wine travel I published two articles back in October choosing my favourite wine regions from a tourist perspective.

I’m not sure what 2025 will bring, but I hope that fellow wine lovers get to drink some fabulous bottles. Hopefully those that I drink and write about will give a little vicarious pleasure too. Remember, I don’t get paid for this so even a little feedback means a lot.

Posted in Artisan Cider, Artisan Wines, Natural Wine, Review of the Year, Wine, Wine Agencies, Wine Books, Wine Merchants, Wine Shops, Wine Tastings, Wine Writing | Tagged #theglouthatbindsus, Music Books I enjoyed in 2024, My Best Wine Books of 2024, My Records of the Year (2024), Review of the Year 2024, wideworldofwine most read articles 2024, wideworldofwine some site statistics 2024, wideworldofwine.co, Winemakers to watch in 2025 | Leave a comment

Jamie Goode on Wine (Book Review)

Posted on 24/12/2024 by dccrossley

First of all, a Very Merry Christmas and Festive Season to all my readers. For each small act of reading one of my articles you have my genuine gratitude. It makes me feel it’s all worthwhile, doing something I enjoy (and as I shall reveal in my Review of the Year, coming soon, it has been a good year for Wide World of Wine).

Having just read the mega-masterwork that is Pascaline Lepeltier’s One Thousand Vines (see my review of 17 December, although you probably have, judging by site traffic in the past week), I did need something a little lighter to read, and this turned out to be the perfect little book.

I wondered whether its author considered calling it Pensées, which would have encapsulated its contents rather well. The only problem, that title got taken a few hundred years ago. Pensées by Blaise Pascal is also a work which sets out to prove something, whereas Jamie Goode on Wine sets out to question. Of late, not least in last year’s seminal The New Viticulture, Jamie Goode is always questioning winemaking and viticultural practices, and in this new work he casts his net even wider, becoming perhaps even a little philosophical at times.

What we have is a series of short essays. How short can be ascertained by dividing their number, a little over forty, by the book’s 180 pages. That’s an average of four pages per essay. We are looking at maybe 1,500 words per essay, give or take as some are longer than others. That is at the top end of what some professionals (who I apologise for frequently ignoring) tell me is the ideal length for a blog post or other online article.

The beauty of this book is therefore not only the diversity of territory (and terroir) it covers, but equally its digestibility. It’s perfect reading for when you’ve just got into bed, for when you have found a rare moment to enjoy an after-lunch or mid-morning coffee, or you’re on the train for a regular thirty-minute journey and you fancy a change from looking out the window at the Firth of Forth or counting deer.

Some of the short essays cover technical wine subjects. “Extraction and Maceration”, “Getting to Grips with Brett”, “Does Decanting Work?”, or “Do We Need New Grape Varieties?”. Each of these chapters seem to combine Jamie’s technical knowledge as a scientist with his own particular way of thinking about any problem, not coming at it wearing the blinkers of the traditional approach.

Other essays cover those more philosophical propositions. I love the title “No One Buys a Rolex for its Ability to Tell the Time”, almost in the mould of “The Smoker You Drink the Player You Get”, or maybe ”You Can Tune a Piano but You Can’t Tuna Fish”? No, I went too far, but you know what I mean, don’t you?

“What is the Ideal Wine Critic”, “The Future of Fine Wine”, “The AI Wine Critics” and “The Post Natural Wine Era” are just a few more broader topics Jamie dips into. All of these essays have appeared somewhere before, not all of them in English, so this is a compilation. Perhaps it reminds me of those compilations which music writer David Hepworth compiles, probably because he’s busy on social media promoting another of his Deep 70s Underrated Cuts compilations, the similarity being that these essays are like deep cuts of popular wine writing that will lift the spirits and prod the intellect…and if you finish one and go on to the next, it will do both those things all over again, but in a totally different way.

What I like so much about this book is that many of these essays, in fact I’d say the majority, are on topics I myself have had my own pensées on, in fact frequently when doing the same things that I mentioned four paragraphs above. Many of you will feel the same. In every case, Jamie Goode has either broadened my own knowledge or has brought some idea to my attention which I’d not yet considered.

It’s like a discourse between myself and the author. Sometimes people can take things too seriously, as I found out last week, when talking about the idea that vines are wild plants so to regiment them in a vineyard is like placing them in a prison. Ridiculous, I was told. No, I don’t think the idea of a vineyard (or a wheat field, or an orchard) is remotely similar to sticking a polar bear in a zoo. It’s just an idea to debate, that’s all, and who knows what might come from such a debate (which some talented winemakers are already having with their vines)?

So, Jamie Goode plays with ideas, whether he’s discussing bottle closures or whether professional wine tasters can ever be wholly objective. It’s interesting that as an author Jamie Goode has always been open to the ideas put forward by the natural wine movement, ideas which have led to his recent books on wine science and viticulture. Likewise, he is one of the few professional wine writers, by which I mean ones earning a living by it, to question the role of said writers, and even their “honesty” (viz scoring wines, a bugbear of my own).

Yet this is an author who, whilst embracing regenerative viticulture and permaculture ideas as a way to soil and vine health (and therefore better wine if we are lucky), is very far from being a fundamentalist, like some. It’s why what he writes on those subjects has credibility. But at the same time, he’s got the kind of mind that’s open, along with a good, dry, sense of humour. It’s what makes his writing so readable.

This small book is published by Amazon, so it’s effectively a DIY job. It’s one of their better efforts in terms of production values. The text is small, but not too small for my eyes, and that at least gives you more text to read within a small and light paperback. It has some photos, black and white, soft-focus edges. Sometimes they reflect the text but not always. We are not told where they were taken but it doesn’t matter. They are not in the way and I’d rather them be there than not because they do provide a kind of interval between essays.

Its price is great too, £9.99, which is, as we are always told, less than your average bottle of supermarket wine (goodness, remember about five or six pre-Brexit years ago when that average used to be not a lot more than a fiver!).

There’s only one thing that slightly annoys me, and it has been an issue with every single Amazon-printed book I’ve ever ordered – the front cover curls up by the time a day has passed. Put the book down on a flat surface and it would form a perfect L-shape, were it not for the cover’s curvature. I was tempted to put up a photo, but that would be unfair, because you can tell I’m heartily recommending you grab a copy.

I have to mention typos, mainly because I did in my last review, of One Thousand Vines, and there are many more in Jamie Goode on Wine than there are there. Do they matter? Oddly, perhaps less so in a book like this than in Lepeltier’s text. One or two require a second take, but it’s probably just someone fussy like me who will notice many of them. When self-producing a book to be printed by Amazon it’s difficult, as I well know (my articles get proofread twice and errors still get through). I guess you can’t beat a good professional copy editor, but as Mitchell Beazley proved to Pascaline Lepeltier, even then you won’t always achieve editorial perfection.

I ordered my copy from Amazon as my local indie bookshop told me it wasn’t something they could order-in. That posed one minor problem. Because I resolutely refuse to take out a “Prime” subscription, I had to pay postage. That obviously takes it above that “less than a bottle…” threshold, but that is my choice. Others may feel differently to me. I hope they give Jamie a better royalty than he’d get from Spotify, but then I know that wine book publishers are not exactly throwing money at wine books these days either.

On those musings, I can only direct you towards the first essay in Jamie Goode on Wine, titled “Wine Needs Words”. It certainly does, and (if my maths is not way out) the sixty-to-seventy-thousand words he has written here are well worth entertaining yourself with. Doubtless this review is just too late for Christmas delivery, even if you subscribe to Prime, but maybe grab a copy for New Year, for those moments when a return to work is a far less appealing prospect than hibernation through the rest of the dark months. If some distant relative sent you an Amazon voucher, you’re sorted. If you love wine, Jamie Goode on Wine will brighten up your commute.

Posted in Philosophy and Wine, Tasting Wine, Viticulture, Wine, Wine Books, Wine Science, Wine Writing | Tagged Dr Jamie Goode Author, Essays on Wine, Jamie Goode on Wine (Book), New Wine Book, New Wine Books 2024, Wine appreciation, Wine writing | 2 Comments

One Thousand Vines by Pascaline Lepeltier (book review)

Posted on 17/12/2024 by dccrossley

I read quite a few wine books each year, or at least when the publishers drip feed them to us. Some are general books, some specialist, some are an easy read and some require focus and concentration for every paragraph. One Thousand Vines definitely falls into the second category in each of those cases. But this is a very important book. We had a work of similar importance last year in Jamie Goode’s The New Viticulture, and like that book, this one requires all of your attention whilst reading. However, in its scope and depth I would agree with those before me who have said that there has really been nothing quite like it in wine writing before.

Pascaline suggests she tried to write the book that she wished had been out there when she began learning about wine. Well, I’m sure Pascaline, with her honed intelligence, would have devoured it. I certainly did, although it is not a book to read when your eyes are drooping and you are ready for sleep.

Pascaline Lepeltier comes from Angers in the Western Loire. Her university studies led her to a master’s thesis in philosophy, but then she needed a break. A teacher suggested she go and work in a wine shop, and this is how Pascaline discovered her true calling. She worked restaurants as a sommelier in Belgium and then in the USA, where she is now Beverage Director at the famous Chambers Restaurant in New York’s Tribeca district. She has many other roles, which enable her to travel widely, but at Chambers she has put into practice her, shall we say, wine philosophy in creating an astonishing list of 3,000 wines, most of which are organic and/or biodynamic.

Pascaline Lepeltier is known as one of the foremost sommeliers in the world, but at the same time she is also known as one of the most influential advocates for what I would like to call the modern philosophy of winemaking and wine appreciation. This book is not a bible merely for those who share this philosophy, but its holistic approach weaves such themes into the narrative in a way that few (perhaps only Dr Goode, from whom she draws quotes from time to time) have attempted before.

So, as you can see from the table of contents (below), we have a work which covers Vineyards (the domestication and nature of the vine and its place in a wider ecology), Landscape (climate, geology and terroir), and Wines (winemaking, wine tasting and serving wine, not to mention marketing).

The detail the author goes into is amazing. Much of the reading is scientific and technical and although all her explanations are easy to understand, the reader does need to immerse themselves in the text and at times proceed quite slowly to fully take it all in.

The text is accompanied by maps and other graphic illustrations which supplement the text, illustrating points made and concepts explained. There are no superfluous photographs, no pretty pictures. What you get resembles a text book, for this is a serious work. It doesn’t read like a textbook though.

The first two thirds of the book are perhaps the densest read in terms of imparting deep technical knowledge, although always in an engaging and readable way. Always, within the detail, we see Pascaline’s philosophical mind working, questioning and broadening the subject matter, especially to take in the most current thinking.

One such example is the reminder that viticulture is in no way just a random use of nature’s bounty. Vines are imprisoned in vineyards, tethered to stakes and wires. That’s not quite how the author puts it, exactly, but a few contemporary-thinking vignerons, perhaps Florian Beck-Hartweg in Alsace, or Oszkar Maurer in Serbia might say that. But Lepeltier does examine the nature of vineyards and different ways of looking at them.

Lepeltier certainly makes very clear man’s influence over nature, exposing so many myths, such as (for example, inter alia) one about terroir. That the most famous vineyards have always been located close to markets because, er, obviously, they needed to sell the wine in a time before railways and road transport made longer and more difficult journeys possible. This might mean, in France, the easy transportation of wine by waterway (first rivers, then canals) to Paris, or it might mean export markets by sea (in the case of Bordeaux). So perhaps this idea of perfect terroir for growing vines is not quite the absolute we presume. It isn’t that terroir, in the narrow, traditional, sense doesn’t matter. It’s just that the author is always throwing a curved ball, or saying to us “but what about…?”.

The scope of the book is immense. In all of the three distinct sections we are taken as far back as Ancient Egypt, through all of history to the present day, or to be accurate to 2022 because this book was first published by Hachette in that year, this English edition being a translation.

Pascaline being French, you will find a strong focus on the development of viticulture, winemaking and everything that goes with it, in France. To be fair, France has had probably the greatest influence on wine from medieval times until the start of the 21^st century. That said, she doesn’t ignore other influences, such as to some degree the rise of the Asian market, but more importantly Anglo-Saxon influences which have grown in importance since the late 20^th century. These encompass everything from English glass to Robert Parker and beyond.

We also see the author addressing issues which have only arisen in the past ten, twenty, or fewer years. Such issues are naturally strongly related to the influence of the natural wine movement. When natural wine became part of my own consciousness in the early 1990s, I always argued that it is those working at the periphery of wine thinking, those doing the things considered “out there” by many (and considered blasphemy by a few enraged old men) who are pushing the boundaries.

We see the movement’s influence has indeed been significant, and is increasing. It has influenced the way we think about soils, additives, so-called wine faults, about methods of transport and what vessels we sell wine in, and much more. Perhaps even more important than that, natural wine has made us think more openly about how we define quality in wine, and indeed how important some measure of quality might be. I mean, I’m not suggesting anyone should be drinking “bad” wine. Simply that in pursuit of always “the best” we will surely miss out on the experience of tasting “the most interesting”. I’m pretty sure that Pascaline would agree.

My own blog, wideworldofwine.co , is not only dedicated to wine from a wide geographical area, but also to a broader way of appreciating wine. Of course, I love a fine Burgundy or Bordeaux, but I am glad to taste the wines of Japan, Nepal, Armenia or Serbia and I derive as much stimulation from doing so as from a well-cellared fine wine at its peak. I’ve been blessed to drink many of those, and doubtless I shall, if lucky, drink many more. I’ve never tried wine from Ukraine though (yet).

The Conclusion to One Thousand Vines is sub-titled “So, what shall we drink tomorrow?”. This three-page conclusion begins with a stating of a stark fact. Urgent action is required to address the environmental (and one should add, economic) problems viticulture and wine face today. Wine faces threats on all sides, from the anti-alcohol lobby to wine speculation by the rich making good wine so much less affordable to the consumer, especially the discerning consumer who might otherwise fall in love with a well-crafted artisan wine.

As the author says, “wine…holds up a mirror to our civilisation: its crises are our crises, its status and the way it is defined are our social choices…” Wine is no longer what it was, neither a safe food, providing calories when water sources were unsafe, nor is it the cultural “totem” of societies like France and Italy. It has become on the one hand an industrial product shipped around the world and sold in supermarkets, but equally, a collector’s item which is fast becoming too expensive and unobtainable for those passionate about exploring it.

Pascaline Lepeltier suggests that the way forward for wine lovers is through “[r]ediscovering the taste of living wine as an eminently joyful and political act of resistance”. I would agree, although I should point out that those working in wine, those who get to taste and drink wine as part of their job, and indeed to purchase it at a discount or to be given free samples, do sometimes forget that natural wine is of its nature in a wholly different price bracket to the beverage, commodity, wine we see on the shelves of the supermarket. Using a UK yardstick, much supermarket wine will cost below £10 per bottle. I am very lucky if a bottle of my political act of resistance costs me less than £30. Often it is more in the £30-£50 range.

Are there any negatives with this book? Not really. I always get annoyed by proofreading and typographical errors and there were enough here to surprise me, given the prestigious imprint it appears under. That said, such errors probably amount to no more than a dozen or so in nearly 350 pages of text. I think that £45 is expensive and no one has addressed this. I presume most reviewers were sent a free copy. My desire to use local indie book shops means my copy was neither free nor discounted, but at least my own political act of resistance here is to ensure the author gets a fair share of the proceeds (I hope). It’s why I don’t use music streaming services either.

In his Foreword, US sommelier and winemaker Rajat Parr sums up with the following sentence. I could not put it better. If you are sufficiently passionate about wine that you are keen to dive deep into its wide world, then you must find a way to afford it. “This book is destined to become essential reading in the wine world. Reading it once or twice will not be enough; it will be a weekly or daily reference. If you have never [like me] met Pascaline, this book reveals her soul [I think it probably does].”

One Thousand Vines is published in English by Mitchell Beazley (348pp in hardback, 2024, £45). It was first published by Hachette Livre in French in 2022. As you will have deduced, for my average reader/subscriber this will be an emphatic “buy”… if you can afford it. For me it’s like that wine that is definitely over budget, but you just have to have it.

Posted in Artisan Wines, Natural Wine, Philosophy and Wine, Tasting Wine, Viticulture, Wine, Wine Books, Wine Science, Wine Writing, Women in Wine | Tagged Defining Wine Quality, History of Wine, Man's influence on vines, Man's influence on viticulture and wine, Natural Wine Movement, New Wine Philosophies, One Thousand Vines Book Review, Pascaline Lepeltier MS, Serving Wine, Terroir, Vines and domestication, Vineyard climate and geology, Vineyard Landscapes, Vineyards and Viticulture, Wine Ecology, Wine Marketing, Wine Tasting, Winemaking | Leave a comment

Recent Wines November 2024 #theglouthatbindsus

Posted on 11/12/2024 by dccrossley

November’s Recent Wines are once again cut short, in this case by our trip to Nepal, taking twenty days of “home drinking” out of the equation, but we did manage to consume six bottles in the ten days we had left in the month. Unsurprisingly we kick off with a bottle from Nepal, before an amazing Czech Sauvignon Blanc, a white wine no less good from Colio, a Pfalz (but only just) Spätburgunder, an orange wine from Hungary and, to draw November to a close, a luxurious Pinot Gris from one of my very favourite winemakers in Alsace.

It is certainly looking like there will be considerably more wines consumed in December, considering what has been opened here so far. As a result, I can’t promise to keep up my wholly unintentional recent habit, as mirrored above, of all the wines being from different countries, but at least among these half-dozen bottles there are no duplicates in that respect.

White Ashish 2020, Pataleban Vineyard Winery (Chisapani, Nepal)

I managed to get hold of three different Pataleban wines in Nepal but didn’t visit the winery this time. The road, and there is only one road, that heads west from Kathmandu to Pokhara is the main transport route to and from India. The road is clogged with traffic close to Kathmandu at the best of times, and last visit we were stuck in traffic for so long that to get back to the Pataleban Resort Hotel they sent a couple of scooters to rescue us. After the recent floods have washed away parts of this road, causing even more chaos, we didn’t risk using it, which also curtailed our plans for a weekend at Sarangkot, above Pokhara.

Pataleban, Nepal’s only producer of “grape wine”, is near Chisapani, 16km west of the capital. They now have three main vineyards at Kaule, Kewalpur and Khani Kola, totalling around 40 acres on the slopes of the Kathmandu Valley, rising to 3,000 masl at their highest extreme. The project began with a small vineyard around the Pataleban Resort Hotel, planted mainly to hybrids with initial assistance from Japan (Nichibi Kaikan Winery) in 2006.

I notice that World of Fine Wine recently ran an article about wine from Bhutan, seeming to imply, incorrectly, that wine in the Himalayas is something new. If, as that article suggests, wine from Bhutan, like Hugh Johnson’s famous definition (for that very journal) of fine wine, is “wine worth talking about”, then come on folks, let’s talk about wine from Nepal!

More recently, technical help for Pataleban has come from Switzerland and Germany, and plantings in the main sites further west along the valley have been predominantly European viniferas. The winemaker’s son, Siddharta Karki, is currently completing various stages in Germany, and will no doubt return with even more knowledge to assist his father, Kumar Karki’s, already heroic efforts (and trust me, making wine in Nepal is heroic on several levels).

There are currently three wines commercialised (though I have seen a photo only of the mythical “Muscat Blue”), and this white wine, as far as I can ascertain, was made from 40% Chardonnay, 40% Gewurztraminer and 20% Heida in the 2020 vintage. It is fruity, off-dry and reminds me a little of a richer Jurançon with bottle age. Or perhaps that Bergerac Moelleux I drank a few months back, though it is certainly not “moelleux” in the sense that any Loire drinker will recognise. It’s more “off-dry”.

It has scents of quince and yellow stone fruit with a touch of melon. I might say that considering where it came from, it’s an amazing wine because it stands up on its own as a decent bottle whatever its origin. The climate can be a struggle, especially the monsoon rains which usually (pre-climate chaos) end in October. Rain and humidity before and around harvest can be more challenging than heat at other times of the ripening cycle.

I will admit that I did have some concerns over the vintage. Wine stores in Kathmandu don’t tend to go heavy on the aircon and summers are hot, but this bottle might have been a recent arrival from the winery’s cool storage, because equally the capital’s stores are not going to hold very large stocks.

This cost between £8-10 in Kathmandu. As far as I know the wines are not exported to Europe, but I have seen it listed on a couple of US web sites at around $10. That’s cheap so the information may be outdated. Good luck in trying to get some and don’t hesitate to let me know if you do.

Sauvignon Blanc 2022, Mira Nestarcová (Moravia, Czechia)

Mira works alongside her husband, Milán Netarec, but harvesting from her own vineyards at Velké Bilovice and Moravsky Zickov, in Southern Moravia, vines which are minimally pruned and so produce very tiny berries. Viticulture is organic with some elements of biodynamics incorporated, and a strong focus on regenerative agriculture. In all respect, like Milán, Mira’s wines are made with minimal intervention, naturally, from vines sitting on loess, clay and sandy soils.

Winemaking uses a mix of wood and concrete. The wine, I have to say, is exceptional. I bought a selection of all of the cuvées that the importer brought in and perhaps in some respects the Sauvignon Blanc was the one I was least excited by before I opened the bottle. I was so wrong. For starters, the wine is quite unique for the grape variety. It’s not “Loire”, certainly not “New Zealand”. It perhaps slightly resembles a Styrian Sauvignon Blanc, which is a compliment in itself.

The fruit is concentrated and intense but the acids which are present, and certainly characteristic of the variety, are wholly balanced by the wonderful, pure, pear and gooseberry fruit. Alcohol is just 11%, yet the wine is in no way “thin”. There’s a great mouthfeel which presumably comes from a little skin maceration, though there are no tannins (not something I’d want from SB anyway). There’s definitely some complexity developing. I’m sure this will age a little, but if (no, when) I buy another bottle, I doubt it will last long in the cellar.

This was circa £30 direct from Basket Press Wines. I shall have much more to say about Mira in the future, no doubt.

“K” 2021, Edi Kéber (Collio, Italy)

It’s a tough life when you drink two white wines this good consecutively. Edi Kéber has vines in an amphitheatre at Zegla, within the region of Collio-Goriziano (to give this sub-region its full name) in Northeast Italy. The Kéber vines, close to the border with Slovenia, are farmed without chemical treatments, and the traditional element of the winemaking centres on autochthonous varieties vinified in concrete vats and old casks. I believe he is now making only white wine.

This is a blend, traditional for the region, of Friulano with Malvasia and Ribolla Giala. Friulano, formerly called Tocai, or Tocai Friulano, goes by the rather odd name of “Tai” in the Veneto. I can see why, but don’t like it. The variety is in fact what those with a good knowledge of French viticulture will know as Sauvignonasse (sometimes Sauvignon Vert). In France it is a variety of little note, but you might recall it has also been widely planted in Chile, of all places, where it was mistaken for Sauvignon Blanc. In wider Friuli it can excel like nowhere else.

As is common in the region, the grapes in this blend have seen long skin contact, and it was bottled without fining, nor filtration. It is bone dry, mineral and grassy. It has texture, and fruit, and the palate has an awful lot going on, but the spine of acidity keeps it well in focus. The length is excellent. It is both pristine yet mouthfilling.

Looking back on my notes, I’m not sure they actually convey as much as I’d have liked, but I know it was exceptionally good. Perhaps it’s a wine that is slightly enigmatic? My bottle came from The Solent Cellar (£30). The importer appears to be Third Floor Wines in Manchester, but I’ve also seen it at Shrine to the Vine.

Spätburgunder “B” 2013, Friedrich Becker (Pfalz, Germany)

Another lovely wine from Friedrich, or “Kleine Fritz” as he’s known locally. He’s one of several high-quality producers in the village of Schweigen, right on the southern border between Pfalz (Germany) and Alsace (France). I don’t think it an insult to those other growers, one of whose wines I also much admire (Jülg), to say that Fritz has gained the most praise of all of them from those who truly know German Spätburgunder/Pinot Noir.

The slopes of Schweigen fall quite precipitously towards the Alsace town of Wissembourg, almost ending at the walls of its beautiful eleventh century abbey complex, whose monks planted these slopes. Some of the vines farmed by the Schweigen winzers are actually across the border in France, indeed these are the village’s best sites.

The wines are legally produced under the German wine laws, but a convention has arisen where the vineyard names, which would be Grand Cru in Alsace but whose names are not permitted on the “German” wines, are denoted by their first letter (as is common elsewhere, but for different reasons). It’s a little similar to Collio, the location of the previous wine, where winemakers often have vines over the border in Slovenia.

The terroir here on the slopes is limestone and marl. This particular wine was aged seventeen months in Burgundian casks, 20% new. When Fritz began getting a lot of critical acclaim he was making his red wines very much with Burgundy in mind, perhaps especially the silky Pinots of Musigny. However, latterly he has become more determined to produce wines which express the Schweigen terroirs, and personally I think that is the right way to go.

This wine had quite a bit of extraction and so twenty years plus ageing has not been a problem. It still has grip, a little tannin and texture. The fruit is lovely floating cherry on the nose, echoed on the palate, but here we also have some more evolved earthy notes. There’s plenty of richness all round, and it is surprisingly youthful (it was cellared from purchase). It went spectacularly well with a beef and mushroom rice dish in a red wine stock. Glorious.

I purchased this from the domaine in 2017. There are one or two occasional sightings of Becker’s top wines in the UK. Majestic Wines is an unlikely source for some of his less expensive offerings (their web site currently shows a “Pinot Noir” and I’m pretty sure I’ve seen a Weisser Burgunder in the past, so worth a look if you are ever in a Majestic warehouse).

Ora 2020, Annamária Réka-Koncz (Barabás, Eastern Hungary)

Although some of Annamária’s grapes are sourced from friends further west within Hungary, the grapes for Ora all come from her home vines at Barabás. It is, as the name gives away, a skin contact wine. It’s a blend based on the ever-faithful Királyleanyká variety (aka Feteasca Regala in Romania), with co-planted Rhîne Riesling, Furmint and Harslevelu.

The 2020 comes in at just 11% abv (the 2021 has an extra one percent). The colour is very orange and there is the expected texture and a bit of tannin, but it’s balanced by a lovely richness you might not expect at this lower level of alcohol. I got apricot and mango dominating the bouquet, with the palate pretty similar. It has a nice long finish too. It’s an exciting wine, and a perfect match for a risotto of kabocha, oyster mushrooms and fennel. It did no harm that the wine and the kabocha flesh were pretty much the same colour.

This came direct from importer Basket Press Wines. As always it has sold out, so you need to be in the loop as to when Annamária’s next shipment will be. Prost Wines often has stock after they have sold through at Basket Press.

Quand Le Chat N’est Pas Là 2021, Jean-Pierre Rietsch (Alsace, France)

Jean-Pierre farms twelve hectares of vines, mostly in and around the geranium-bedecked village of Mittelbergheim, in the northern part of Alsace, between Andlau and Barr. He’s almost an old-timer now, having taken over from his parents in 1987, but he still doesn’t seem particularly old to me, despite approaching his fortieth vintage. May he have many more.

His wines are as beautiful as his ever-changing labels, though it does mean in that case you need to see the back label details to know specifically what you are getting. That said, you should know that whatever you purchase you are going to drink some of the finest natural wines in the whole of France. Sulphur is rarely used in this cellar, but Jean-Pierre will add a tiny amount on those occasions he deems it absolutely necessary.

This wine, whose name is a play on “when the cat’s away…” (the label artwork making it quite clear), is a single varietal Pinot Gris. It comes from the sand and limestone (calcaro-gréseux) soils of the Stierkopf vineyard at Mutzig, a little way further to the north, just west of Molsheim. J-P produces a number of wines from this site, including Pinot Noir.

The cuvée used whole grape maceration for nineteen days, so there is a pinkish tinge in the wine from the skins. J-P was something of a pioneer in Alsace in using skin contact to help make dry wines from the aromatic varieties here. Ageing is seven months in foudre. No sulphur is added to this completely “natural” wine.

Along with its pinkish hue, we have some gentle red fruits on the nose, so blind-tasting in the traditional sense you might well think it’s a delicate red wine. However, the intense minerality here is definitely that of a white wine. The acids give the wine a brightness on the palate, combining so well with the concentrated fruit. This makes it so “drinkable”, especially as unlike many an Alsace Pinot Gris, this has only 12.5% alcohol yet is dry.

When it comes to my Wines of the Year for 2024, I am really going to have considerable difficulty in choosing between five out of six of this small group of wines for November’s selection. That in no way detracts from the pleasure and fun I had from drinking the sixth, the Pataleban from Nepal.

Imported by Wines Under the Bonnet, this bottle coming from Cork & Cask in Edinburgh. Price: about £30. Cork & Cask has sold out but the importer is listing the 2022 now.

Posted in Alsace, Artisan Wines, Czech Wine, German Wine, Hungarian Wine, Italian Wine, Natural Wine, Wine, Wine Agencies, Wine Merchants | Tagged #theglouthatbindsus, Annamária Réka-Koncz Hungary, Annamária Réka-Koncz Ora 2020, Collio Wine, Czech Wine, Domaine Rietsch Stierkopf Pinot Gris, Edi Kéber Collio Goriziano, Edi Kéber K 2021, Friedrich Becker Schweigen Pfalz, Friedrich Becker Spätburgunder B 2013, Fritz Becker Winzer, Jean-Pierre Rietsch Mittelbergheim, Kiralyleaniyka, Mira Nestarcová Velké Bilovice, Mira Sauvignon Blanc 2022, Moravian Wine, Nepal Wine, Nepalese Wine, Pataleban Estate Winery Nepal, Pataleban White Ashish, Pfalz Spätburgunder, Quand Le Chat N'est Pas Là 2021, Recent Wines November 2024, Wine of Eastern Hungary | Leave a comment

Manang Valley Boutique Winery – Apple Wine in the Shadow of the Annapurnas

Posted on 04/12/2024 by dccrossley

Whenever I visit Nepal, my recent trip being my eighth time there, I usually have some kind of drink-related story to tell, although it’s not always about wine. One of the most enduringly popular articles on my site is about Tongba (4 January 2016). It is often the most read article here when my annual review of the year comes out. Many of you will know that Nepal has a decent wine estate up in the hills outside Kathmandu, called Pataleban Estate. I didn’t visit this trip, but I did buy a few bottles, one of which gets a mention in my next article. What I want to introduce to you here calls itself wine, and indeed it is wine, but it’s made from apples.

Back in 1988 a young Wideworldofwine visited Nepal for the first time and went on a trek up into the Annapurna Region. Back then this was a pretty remote place. You got a bus to a town called Dumre, half way between Kathmandu and Pokhara, where by Phewa Lake there were the first signs of a resort, a few backpacker hotels and market stalls. The trek involves crossing the Thorong La Pass at 5,400 masl, and a half-day walk below it was the village of Manang, a huddle of windswept, flat-roofed dwellings, one shop with a rugged interior, a post office accessed by a ladder, likewise a couple of American medical students dispensing paracetamol, and one “guest house”.

Today, Manang has changed almost beyond recognition. Instead of a walk of over a week to get there you can now access a much-enlarged village by road, although you do need a jeep. There are many more places to stay, and I’m told that now there is even a cinema. Just outside Manang, a little way down the mountain towards the spectacular solitary Pisang Peak, is a village called Bhratang, which is where you will find the Manang Valley Boutique Winery.

Going back to 1988, trekking was a simple life, mostly camping out under the stars with the occasional night spent in a tea house, which to be honest didn’t afford a lot more luxury, perhaps less in certain areas, but in all cases, meals were pretty basic (if tasty), mostly rice, green spinach and occasionally an egg if a chicken had laid. Beverages were mostly endless black tea, though one time I do recall chugging a beer, an interesting experience at high altitude. When we began to approach the Manang district all of a sudden, we were able to buy apples. It being October they were fresh, and I don’t think I had tasted better anywhere before.

A view of the huddled flat-roof houses of Manang taken in 1988

Apple cultivation up here, and we are talking 3,500 masl, is famous in Nepal, as are the quality of the apples. The problem is that there are now too many apples to get eaten. It is one of the sad things about Nepal that it is capable of producing such variety of food in abundance, yet so much of the produce you see in Kathmandu, certainly in the shops, comes up from India, clogging the roads in old, diesel-belching, trucks. I bought some apples a few weeks ago from a barrow and the vendor claimed they were from Mustang, another region known for its mountain apples. They were good enough to make his claim likely.

The Agro family are third-generation apple farmers with around 80,000 apple trees spread over forty hectares in the Manang Valley. That’s a lot of apples, but the idea of making an apple wine was inspired by collaboration with Texas resident, Chuck Ghale, who brought winemaking and brewing expertise to Manang. From the outset the desire was to focus on quality. Nepal has a host of “fruit wines”, and indeed plenty of home winemaking on a small scale, though with the rather potent Chang to compete with, little fruit wine has grabbed my undivided attention up until now.

The apples undergo a selection for the best fruit, which is then micro-vinified in small batches in stainless steel tanks. This preserves the freshness of the fruit, and what freshness. Imagine the clean mountain air (though admittedly its oxygen content is noticeably diminished up here), and after the monsoon season, in October, the many mountain streams are full of clear, cold, and sometimes clean (if the humans can avoid polluting them) water.

More than anything, of course, it’s cold here. We, as visitors, need to be prepared with warm clothing at night, but the apples love it. The climate gives a long growing season, and makes pests and disease far less prevalent, which allows the producer to follow a minimal intervention approach in terms of synthetic inputs. Not only is there a desire to make a premium product without chemicals, but also a knowledge over time of the need to preserve this unique and special environment with its balance of agriculture, hardy mountain plants and relatively small-scale grazing, the yak being the beast of choice here, for both traditional means of transport and for the table.

The family definitely gets it…that the future of the Manang Valley for apple growing hinges on maintaining the delicate ecological balance here, especially in the face of much increased tourism, which puts enormous pressure on a place with little infrastructure to cope with it (though in many ways the lack of infrastructure is not necessarily a bad thing…it’s a question of balance).

What of the wine? Well first we need to deal with that descriptor. At 11% abv the dryer of the two wines produced certainly has all the attributes of a wine. It definitely tastes like wine and emphatically not cider, and although fruit wines are sort of looked down upon in the UK, something made by amateurs and shown at the village fete, the fermented juice of any fruit is very much considered as legitimately described as wine in many countries outside of Europe.

In fact, in Nepal you will be almost as likely to find a fruit wine as you will a bottle of grape wine, usually in the latter case from India (Sula is ubiquitous) or South America (as an aside I have yet to spot any Chinese wine in Nepal, which surprises me).

So, there are two wines made up here, described as “Sweet” and “Semi-Sweet”. I had read about the Manang Valley Winery, and in fact followed them on Instagram for some time, but it hadn’t really crossed my mind to buy some when I was in Nepal as I’d not spotted it in any liquor stores, where I’d been poking around for beer, rum and grape wine. Then I was given a bottle of the Manang “Semi-Sweet” as a gift in Kathmandu and my whole reason for writing about it here is that it was so good, and indeed so interesting.

I guess it was “semi-sweet”, though the sweetness comes over more as “richness” in this case. The bouquet is all apples, but there’s also a freshness. That freshness appears on the palate too. There is acidity to balance the richness, but don’t expect the kind of acidity you find in cider. There’s not a lot of complexity, or not the complexity you would expect with wine made from grapes. However, you get mouth-filling fruit which does linger long on the palate.

In Nepal you will pay around Rs 1,000 for a bottle (a little under £6). There’s an export office in Kathmandu and whilst I don’t see any UK or European importers, it does seem to be available in the US for $8-10. The web site for the wines is somewhat full of marketing platitudes and less hot on the factual detail most readers of this blog might wish for, but if anyone wishes to explore further take a look at http://www.manangbeverages.com . Contact is via manangbeverages@gmail.com .

Of course, if you wish to visit, they have nice looking accommodation on-site at Bhratang, and these days you don’t have to trek there on foot. Bhratang is described as “about an hour’s drive south of Manang”. Of course, for me, this is some of the most beautiful mountain scenery in the world.

I can’t resist adding a few food pics from our recent trip, along with a new brewery and beer, highly recommended. Do look out for the Manang Apple wines out in Nepal. It is yet another Nepalese beverage I’d like to see here in the UK.