A Vegas Christmas

Self-styled Sin City, Las Vegas may seem the last place to spend Christmas, but with cheap flights from one-plane Stockton airport and plenty of affordable accommodation in this city designed for tourists it was to Vegas that @kt_canfield and I flew on Christmas morning. A cross between Blackpool and a cruise ship, Las Vegas is a neverending, in-your-face performance of glitz and bling.

the hotel

We stayed at Planet Hollywood, just next to the mock Eiffel Tower halfway down the strip. The rooms were a very good price at around $140 a night including the unavoidable resort tax. We were given a first glimpse of Vegas's hectic, chaotic nature waiting to check in: a half-hour queue full of impatient, shouting tourists all demanding to be given priority. That's one thing every Vegas visitor shares: an insistent belief that nothing matters more than your own comfort and needs. As this Christmas trip was also doubling up as our delayed, de facto honeymoon, we were upgraded to a room with a view over the Strip, able to watch the Bellagio fountains perform every thirty minutes.

the Strip 

An endless array of casinos, shops, hotels, expensive restaurants, neon lights, parading tourists, slot machines, and traffic jams, its buildings towering into the night sky, the Strip represents everything Las Vegas is about. At one moment the Eiffel Tower rises majestically, the Arc de Triomphe small behind it, the next the Statue of Liberty stands next to the Empire State Building. Further down towards the airport, there's a little bit of Australia next to the Sphinx. Elsewhere, the canals of Venice offer gondola trips beneath a permanent blue sky.

The Strip can get a bit too much: a constant, chaotic call to action where it's almost impossible to move. In the crisp morning sunshine, @kt_canfield and I did what must be a rare thing: we carried on walking south down the Strip, away from the tourists, until we got to the "Town Square" three miles away: a complex with a park, shops, and a great bar called the Double Helix, offering a good selection of wine and whisky. To the north of the Strip lies Downtown, offering yet more casinos but in a more laid-back and approachable way - the minimum stakes here are a lot lower as well.

the tourists

Las Vegas is a fast-paced city which moves in slow motion. The tourists shuffle up and down the strip, taking photos on their iPads, distracted by the lights, the names, and the street performers - until they realise the performer is an actual, genuine homeless person. Pretty much the whole of the Middle East and a fair share of Japan was in town for the Christmas period, some of them getting in early for what I can only imagine is a terrifying New Year's Eve experience. As busy and hectic as Vegas was, many of the tourists were happy to shop, promenade, and enjoy the experience rather than merely gamble - the casinos weren't as unmanageably crowded as the strip itself.

the taxi drivers

For some reason, I thought Las Vegas would be quite self-contained and it would be possible to get to places without a car. As the permanent traffic jams demonstrated, everything in Las Vegas is spread out and with a lack of public transport you need a taxi or a car to escape the madness of the strip and discover what else the city has to offer. Our taxi drivers, few of them from Vegas itself, were a rather cynical bunch; one, a "Persian" in the process of applying to be a translator at the UN, bemoaned the emptiness that gambling brought on its guests and its inhabitants, making the city a desperate competition to survive. A sobering thought when being driven back from a casino.

the show

Not being a great one for shows, I opted for one called Absinthe. Located in a Spiegeltent outside Caesar's Palace, this was a riot. A series of spectacular acrobatics interspersed with very funny but extremely crude jokes, this was Vegas at its best: funny, irreverent, unforgettable, and plain bonkers.

the casinos

show me the money

It's impossible to avoid the casinos; they're all slightly different but they offer the same. Haggard faces on bodies slumped in front of slot machines that endlessly turn. Table after table of cards, roulette, and dice, some with dancing girls. Laughing voices, cheers, groans, sympathetic croupiers. You feel like you have to gamble, then wonder why.

We stuck to blackjack, simply because it's easier than poker. However, each table has slightly different rules, which you need to be aware of either to take advantage of or to ensure you don't get stung. Taking your time to measure up each table is definitely a good idea. Instead, on our way to the hotel room we spontaneously sat down at a table with a minimum stake of $15. Within ten minutes, we had lost $160; shellshocked, we crawled into bed and fell into a deep sleep we hoped not to awaken from.

After collecting ourselves and coming up with game plan, we had much more luck the next night at the Golden Nugget, in downtown Las Vegas. More relaxed, with friendly, helpful croupiers and lower stakes, I actually came away with some money.

the cocktails

I had high hopes of tasting some great cocktails while in Vegas, but I was initially disappointed. While in search of the perfect Negroni - a classic gin-based cocktail - @kt_canfield had the following exchange with a bartender at Caesar's Palace:

"What's your favourite cocktail to make?"
"That depends on the base spirit."
"Gin."
"Oh, the problem with gin is that there aren't many things you can mix it with."
Silence.
"So can you make a Negroni?"
"Yes, I can do that."

Herbs and Rye cocktail menu

I think to have a truly good experience in Vegas you have to leave the Strip and so it was with cocktails. We took a taxi to Herbs and Rye, a sleazy looking roadside establishment but inside a beautifully and tastefully decorated 20s style cocktail bar. On offer was a wonderfully designed menu based on the history of the cocktail: the Gothic Age, for cocktails from the nineteenth century, the Dark Age for the mid-twentieth century. The bartender was chatty, helpful, and open to requests; when I asked for his favourite tequila-based cocktail, he recommended a Mezcal Negroni which @kt_canfield snapped up before I had chance to say anything. Herbs and Rye also serves food and it's worth reserving a table for its popular Happy Hour times.

Las Vegas is a brash city that takes some getting used to and working out. It's a large, disorderly, fun, chaotic, and superficial release from everyday realities. At its best when it doesn't take itself too seriously, Vegas embraces everything that is ridiculous and makes the ridiculous spectacular. I liked Las Vegas the most away from the glitzy glamour, when it felt more genuine and that's why I'd return - to discover more of what lies beyond the surface razzmatazz.

The Realities of Wine: Bottle Shock, Somm, and A Year in Burgundy

Jancis Robinson has written about the difficulties of transmitting the joys of wine to the screen, arguing that a TV show as successful as Oz and James's Big Wine Adventure only worked because it took on a reality format. I recently watched three films that followed Robinson's advice, recording real-life events to bring wine to life in very different ways.

Bottle Shock (2008)

The 1976 "Judgment of Paris" has entered wine folklore as the moment when Californian wine demonstrated that it was every bit as good as, if not better than, the great wines of France. Organised by Parisian wine shop owner and British ex-pat Steven Spurrier, the Judgment was a blind tasting of ten Burgundy whites and ten Bordeaux reds against their Californian equivalents, mostly from Napa. To the consternation and initial denial of the French, two American wines came out top - Chateau Montelena's 1973 Chardonnay and Stag's Leap's 1973 SLV Cabernet Sauvignon (from their first ever vintage).

That's the basis for Bottle Shock, a film which more than any other I've seen holds a casual, almost flippant, regard for historical facts. Alan Rickman plays Spurrier, who on watching must have thought, Oh my God, I'm being portrayed on film by Alan Rickman, and then must have shuddered, Oh my God, I'm being portrayed as an ignorant, dilettante snob, before understandably considering defamation action against the makers of the film. This film does not like the French - or anyone like Spurrier who likes the French - and presents a colorful glorification of everything related to Napa (ignoring the fact that three of the Californian wines were from Santa Cruz and Monterey).

Bo's wig

The film centres on Chateau Montelena, apparently on the verge of bankruptcy and whose monomaniacal owner, Jim Barrett, spends much of the time punching the wall and his hippy and bewigged son, Bo, who is involved in a bizarre love triangle with seasonal help Sam and colleague and wannabe winemaker Gustavo (none other than Gustavo Brambila, whom I visited in August). This tortured and tortuous to watch love affair results in the immortal line, "With hardship comes enlightenment," breathlessly whispered between surreptitious kisses among the vines. Jim (who is seen making the wine, omitting the role of the actual winemaker, Mike Grgich) takes an instant dislike to Spurrier/Rickman and refuses to allow his Chardonnay to be entered in the tasting, believing the French will not treat his wine fairly. Bo intervenes, sending the Chardonnay via another tortuous plot device to Paris, where, despite mysteriously turning brown two days before the tasting, the wine wins the whites.

There's so much ground to turn such an iconic, almost mythical moment as the Judgment of Paris into a great film, but Bottle Shock doesn't even try. The author of the book on which this film is very loosely based even appears as a monosyllabic wine heathen, a brushstroke characterisation typical of the film. It is fun to watch, but more often than not it's funny despite itself.

Somm (2013)

Somm is a documentary which follows a handful of young American men (the only women in this film are their wives) preparing to take the Master Sommelier exam. The film quotes several talking heads - mainly Master Sommeliers - saying this is the toughest exam in the world. But, rather like the Master of Wine exam which seems much harder and more thorough, this isn't an exam in the educational sense of the word; it's a test to join an exclusive men's club populated by testosterone-driven egos.

This beautifully shot film inspires us to laud the efforts of the would-be Master Sommeliers who sacrifice so much time, effort, and sanity to pass (or more likely fail) the exam (and thank goodness for their long-suffering, understanding wives without whom, etc.). Instead, I spent much of the film hoping they all failed - the arrogance of these men trying to outdo each other in their speed-tastings of expensive wines is insufferable.

Their efforts are presented uncritically, with little explanation of what tasting a wine involves. The job of a sommelier or wine educator should be to demystify wine, make it approachable and understandable, and get people to drink and experiment more; Somm, with its chosen sommeliers, instead underlines the stereotype of wine being an elitist, snobbish institution full of men congratulating themselves on their unerring taste using impenetrable language.

The most telling part of the film is when Ian - the most obsessive and unhinged of the students - misidentifies a Beringer Chardonnay (a decent, widely-available wine from Napa) as white Hermitage (one of the greatest and most exclusive of white wines, made from Marsanne and Roussanne), and refuses to admit his mistake. How on earth can anyone destined to be a Master Sommelier ever be wrong, even if they don't know how to pronounce Viognier correctly?

A Year in Burgundy (2013)

This film acts pretty much as a tourist promotion, taking us through the 2011 vintage from beginning to end. As unquestioning as it is to the inherent greatness of Burgundy's wines, it's a beautiful film which gives a leisurely insight into the working life of an old, mostly traditional region. Burgundy is all about the land - as winemaker after winemaker lines up to remind us - and the film gives a great feel for that sense of place which somehow ends up in a bottle of wine. Without trying to be something it's not, this film succeeds far better than the other two films.

 

Only the French would describe winemaking as "Cartesian"

Making a film or programme about wine is difficult, because there's only one way to appreciate the subject: by tasting it. Sharing a talent for cinematography that the makers of Jancis Robinson's Wine Course perhaps didn't have when she ventured into television in the 1980s, these three films take different approaches: a heavily fictionalised account of a famous event; a documentary insight into the lives of those who taste wine for a living; and a documentary guide to those who make wine. The last works best because I think, ultimately, that's what we want to see: how the glass of wine we're drinking as we watch the film got made and where it comes from. The personality of a wine comes not from a taster, but from its maker.

The Rhône

Driving down France from the cold, grey, almost English north through the gradually brighter Burgundy, all of the sudden the weather and the country change after Lyon. The sun is bright, constant, and warm; the land is vast and dramatic. You can sense that northern Europe has been left behind for good, and that the glamour of the Mediterranean is not too far away. These changes are reflected in the wines, which get bigger, bolder, and warmer as the Rhône, one of France's great rivers, winds it way down from Lyon to Avignon, city of Popes, and Arles, where van Gogh somehow lost an ear.

the regions

from winefolly.com

The Rhône is divided into four different wine-producing areas, the most significant of which are the northern and southern. The climate of the northern Rhône is still moderate, only just warm enough for Syrah to ripen fully. The south is hot, the sun baking the galet stones which retain heat in the cool nights. 

northern Rhône

This is France at its most dramatic and unforgettable, the grand river bending back and forth as huge, steep slopes rise from its banks. These slopes are home to some of the most famous, and expensive, vineyards in the world, including Côte Rôtie ("roasted slope") and Hermitage. These south-facing slopes allow enough sun and heat to hit them for Syrah to grow. The Syrah here is far removed from the Shiraz of Australia: meaty and gamey, with a restrained fruitness and several years of oak ageing, designed to be drunk at least five years after the vintage, and often much more.

There are also three appellations dedicated to white wine. Condrieu, next to Côte Rôtie in the north of the area, is all Viognier, heady, aromatic, and arguably overpriced. Within the appellation is another, France's smallest, called Château Grillet after its only producer. Right at the other end of the region is St-Péray, a small appellation dedicated to Marsanne and Roussanne, my two favourite white Rhône grapes.

Hermitage

southern Rhône

After a small break along the river where nothing much happens in wine terms (apart from sparkling wine production in Die, just east of the Rhône), the climate becomes startlingly hot and Mediterranean. A huge variety of wines are made in the southern Rhône, including the delicate fortified wines of Beaumes-de-Venise, but this area of France is known for its high-alcohol red blends based on Grenache.

The most famous appellation is without doubt Châteauneuf-du-Pape, so called because nearby Avignon was the home for the Papacy in the 1300s. Châteauneuf was the very first appellation to be created in France in order to counteract fraud, in 1923. The rules are quite broad - 18 different grapes are allowed for the production of both red and white wine - and standards have risen and fallen. There has also been a trend, led by demand in the American market, for high alcohol wines aged in lots of new oak, which can be too much for the more delicate palate.

the galets of Châteauneuf-du-Pape

More consistent, less fashionable, and better value is neighbouring Gigondas, which is very similar to Châteauneuf-du-Pape but more reserved. Next door to Gigondas is Vacqueryas, a more rustic, less hygienic, but appealing version of its two neighbours.

At the bottom end of the scale is Côtes du Rhône, a large area which takes in 42,000ha of land. The wines, often made using some carbonic maceration, are simple, straightforward, and fruity, but can offer good value at the entry level. The next level up is Côtes du Rhône-Villages, wine made in one of twenty villages that have the potential to become their own appellation one day. These wines can offer a very good value alternative to the more famous appellations.

There are plenty of other appellations in the area, including the interesting Costières de Nîmes on the western side of the Rhône, all offering local variants on the constant theme: wines with red fruit, highish alcohol, dusty tannins, a meaty depth, and some ageing potential. Not surprisingly, they pair well with the local food: rich, hearty, meaty dishes.

Far less common (2% of the Côtes du Rhône appellation; 7% of Châteauneuf-du-Pape) are whites. I love the rich, creamy, nutty textures of these wines, made from any combination of Roussanne, Marsanne, Viognier, Grenache Blanc, Picpoul, and the wonderfully named Bourboulenc. 

The Rhône also has an appellation solely for rosé, Tavel, which serves as a pink equivalent to Châteauneuf-du-Pape (where rosé is not allowed): full-bodied, fruity, and earthy. A distinguished appellation, but not one that is to everyone's taste.

the wines

Guigal Condrieu 2012 ($70)

From Côte Rôtie and Condrieu's most famous producer, this is a wine of beautiful floral and stone fruit aromas. The wine has also seen some oak giving it a light smokiness, and it has a dry, mineral finish. I personally thought this wine was outstanding, but the overall, and quite harsh, conclusion of the Diploma group I tasted this wine with was that its fruits lacked concentration and the finish wasn't long enough. It's hard to imagine a wine more delightfully aromatic than this, though I do prefer the rounder, creamier wines made from Roussanne and Marsanne elsewhere in the Rhône.  

Cave de Tavel Lauzeraies Rosé 2012 ($14)

Our Diploma tutor confessed that he wasn't a huge fan of the rosés of Tavel, but nevertheless it's a style which he have to appreciate and understand. Tavel produces full-bodied rosés far removed from both the sweetish blush wines of California and the pale rosés of nearby Provence. This wine had lots of red fruits which were a little too candied and juicy watermelon, together with a wet earthy feel. Full and fruity, but lacking complexity.

Château du Montfaucon Côtes du Rhône 2013 ($12)

This was a good, fruity example of Côtes du Rhône at an extremely reasonable price. No oak and quite simple, this is nevertheless a good entry level wine. The producer is from Lirac, one of the Rhône's many appellations.

Clos St. Jean Châteaufneuf-du-Pape 2011 ($35)

Tasting this wine with a group of American students was interesting. These students described the wine as well integrated and balanced; in contrast, I found the whopping 16% level of alcohol burning and out of control. The only non-fortified wines that reach this level of alcohol are Amarone and Zinfandel. The tannins weren't ripe or the fruit jammy enough to be a Zinfandel, and it was much closer to a modern, powerful Amarone, with its dry, dusty tannins and lots of new oak to try and integrate the excessive sugar of the fruits. If I wanted to make a wine with this high alcohol, I'd just make it fortified - at least then there'd be greater control over the nature of the alcohol.

Guigal Brune et Blonde Côte Rôtie 2010 ($70)

Back to the opposite end, and style, of the Rhône with another wine from Guigal. This is a blend of Côte Rôtie's two famous slopes; wines from the 'Blonde' slope are softer and more likely to be blended with Viognier (there was 4% Viognier in this wine), while those from the 'Brune' are firmer and age longer. I loved this wine, its fruits restrained and use of oak just about in balance. The subtle flavours slowly drew out, a savoury gameiness behind the black fruits and slightly coarse, drying tannins. This is still a young wine, however, the flavours needing plenty of time to develop and mature. One student complained that the finish wasn't long enough, but the lingering toasty, pepper finish is exactly what Syrah from a moderate climate should taste like.

Tasting these wines from the Rhône left me thirsty for more, and I had a blind tasting of three other wines to hone my Rhône recognition skills further.

Prat Sura Vacqueryas 2012 ($28)

The more rustic element of Vacqueryas was clear in this wine, with an earthy, homely appeal. The tannins were proper Rhône, dry, gripping, and teeth-staining, but with good red fruits to flesh the wine out. In true French mode, I later drank this with steak - a perfect match.

Torbreck Cuvée Juveniles Barossa 2011 ($20)

GSM is not a term used in France, but it refers to New World Rhône blends featuring Grenache, Syrah, and Mourvèdre. The latter doesn't get used much in the Rhône, more so in Provence and Spain (where it's called Monastrell), as well as in California and Australia (where it's called Mataro). This Australian GSM is surprisingly herbal, but its main difference from actual Rhône wines is that the fruits and tannins are much riper. There is enough structure to balance out those ripe fruits: one of those Australian wines that reveals unexpected layers with each taste.

Mas de Gourgonnier Les Baux de Provence ($20)

Les Baux is one of my favourite villages in Provence, a stony hilltop village with small chapels and shops to dip into to escape the beating sun. It also produces great wine, an appellation created in the early 1990s to incorporate Cabernet Sauvignon - a grape that traditionalists believed shouldn't flourish in the heat of the Provençal sun. This is a blend of Grenache, Syrah, Cabernet, and Carignan, but falls a bit short. The nose is disappointing and medicinal; the mouth, however, has good, dry tannins and red and black fruit, but the finish fades too quickly.

The most important thing to consider when tasting Rhône wines is the tannins. If the wines come from the Rhône rather than the New World, there is going to be a dry dustiness to the tannins, especially in the hotter south. These tannins give the wine great structure, making them perfect with robust food dishes. There is also a romanticism to the wines of the Rhône which I can't avoid falling for, even in the formal educational settings of a WSET Diploma course. The sunshine, the lifestyle, the river are all reflected in the wines: this is a place which gives and then gives some more.

Pouilly-Fuissé

Burgundy is the most terroir-driven of all winemaking regions, hundreds of small patches of land divided up into even smaller plots inherited over the generations by individual farmers. There are only four grapes grown in the region, though for the most part quality wine is made with Chardonnay and Pinot Noir (the other two grapes are Aligoté and Gamay). Although the two grapes are important to the taste of the wine, it's the many different soils, the location and aspect of the vineyard, the weather, and, of course, the influence of the winemaker that lend so much to the wine's eventual character.

Some of the most famous names in the world of wine lie in this land. The Côte d'Or - literally golden slopes, though the name may originally have been an abbreviation of Côte d'Orient, meaning east-facing slopes - stretches from Dijon, taking in the expensive red wines of Marsannay, Chambertin, Chambolle-Musigny, Vougeot, Vosne-Romanée, and Nuits-St-Georges, down to Beaune, more famous for its whites from Corton, Pommard, Volnay, Meursault, and Montrachet.

Another famous name is further south, in the Mâconnais area where the limestone soils which give Burgundy so much of its identity turn into the granite soils of Beaujolais. These soils end in the spectacular crags of Vergisson and Solutré, two of the four villages that form the Pouilly-Fuissé appellation. The soils here are the oldest of Burgundy, with a 100 million years' difference in age between the oldest and the youngest rocks.

the communes

From north to south, the first of the communes is Vergisson, which is dominated by a large crag. The west of the commune has east-facing slopes on granite soils, producing expressive wines, while the east of the village, with its west-facing slopes on rocky, limestone soils, is cooled by northern winds, producing more mineral and floral wines.

Next is Solutré-Pouilly. Solutré is dominated by the other of the two crags; to the back of this large rock, the wines are aromatic and complex. Pouilly is on limestone soils, producing complex, rich, ageworthy wines.

In Fuissé, the vineyards looking down on the village create rich, powerful wines, while those at the bottom of the village, on volcanic soil, are round, supple, fruity, and easy to drink.

The most southerly commune is Chaintré, on east-facing limestone slopes, whose wines are fruity and fresh with mineral qualities.

Solutré's rock

 

the appellation

The four communes got together in 1929 to create a single village, which was made into an appellation in 1936. Until the nineteeth century, Gamay was the dominant grape, but Chardonnay took over, particularly after phylloxera, and it is now the only grape permitted in the appellation. Unlike the Côte d'Or, the concept of Premier Cru and Grand Cru vineyards, which define each appellation's best sites, does not exist in Pouilly-Fuissé. This is changing, however, and the appellation's authorities are in the process of applying for Premier Cru status for several of its vineyards - or climats, meaning sites - including the vineyards behind the five wines I tasted below.

the wines

At the invitation of the Bourgogne Wine Board and @AnnetteHamani, I tasted five wines from Pouilly-Fuissé. These displayed the rich variety of styles produced in the village, due both to the divergent soils and production methods. Pouilly-Fuissé is known for its bigger style of wines; although these were still all quite full-bodied, there was a great deal of finesse and delicacy to them. Also surprising was the age of the vines, ranging from 40 to 90 years.

Domaine Pascale et Catherine Rollet, Clos de la Chapelle 2012

From a vineyard on marl, limestone, and clay soils in the centre of Pouilly, this was by far the oakiest, as well as the youngest, of the wines I tasted - fourteen months in 50% new oak and 50% two-year-old oak. From 90-year-old vines giving the wine extra concentration, there were strong earthy, smoky, and vanilla aromas to the nose, with white pepper and cinnamon. The oak did overpower the other aromas of apricot and hazelnut. A little obvious, but a wine with lots of appealing flavours wrapped in a smoky earthiness.

Domaine Dominique Cornin, Les Chevrières 2011

This wine was completely different, as it was only aged in old oak. The vineyard is also from a different part of the appellation, Chaintré, where the grapes are earlier ripening due to the south-facing slopes and protection from the northern winds. With the absence of new oak, the pear and apricot aromas were more apparent, with an almond nuttiness showing the wine's extra year of age. A delicate, balanced, yet still full-bodied wine.

Domaine Thibert Père & Fils, Les Vignes Blanches 2010

From the ampitheatre of vines that overlook the village of Fuissé, the name of the vineyard refers to its white, pebbled, limestone soil. A forward wine, with 20% new oak and 20 months of ageing (the final 9 months in stainless steel), with rich, creamy flavours of vanilla, quince, and banana. Likewise on the mouth, making the wine like a creamy mushroom sauce. This wine, showing well four years after the vintage, indicated that the full style of Pouilly-Fuissé would best be appreciated with rich creamy chicken or veal dishes.

Domaine Denis Bouchacourt, En Sevry 2010

Perhaps my favourite of the five wines, due to its mature aromas of orange peel and its mellow, delicate, yet complex feel. Ageing more quickly than the other wines - it hadn't been aged in oak at all - this was an indication of what Pouilly-Fuissé tastes like as it grows old. From near Solutré's rock, where the vines are protected from the cool air from the north and exposed to lots of sun, this wine felt the purest, most balanced expression of the appellation's soils, floral with a long nutmeg finish.

Château de Beauregard, La Maréchaude 2010

In the village of Vergisson between the two unavoidable crags, this wine comes from a vineyard with poor, stony soil. The relatively small amount of new oak (25%) still overpowers the stony, mineral flavours, with a rich, full, creamy texture of vanilla, smoke, and banana. An intense wine, but not the subtlest.

What surprised me most about tasting these five wines is that the two with the least amount of oak used in the maturation process were the most interesting, expressive, and complex. The use of old oak in the second wine and the complete absence of oak in the fourth allowed the character of the vineyard and the attitude of the winemaker to come through more clearly but also more subtly - which is what the wines of Burgundy should be about. The vineyards of Pouilly-Fuissé, protected from the cooler airs of the north and exposed to the warmer sunshine of the south, seem quite capable of producing expressive, full wines without too much intervention from the winemaker. If the producers of Pouilly-Fuissé wish their wines to be compared to those of the Côte d'Or, they should allow those wines to express most completely the character of the land they come from.

Some Like It Cold

Although Prohibition was repealed just over 80 years ago, it still affects American life today. Even last week, a number of Sacramento wineries and breweries were accused of breaking a law dating back to Prohibition. Having spent the last few months in California, I've become increasingly interested in how Prohibition influences American drinking culture as well as wondering what brought the entire nation to vote for a ban on alcohol.

Prohibition's influence today

The high taxes on alcohol, attitudes towards drink, and the strange, Byzantine laws result from the period. Prohibition explains American drinkers' habits, from under-21 students partying in foreign cities to a preference for Scotch - it also explains why on earth Americans drink Canadian whisky. The popularity of light, low-alcohol beers comes from the moralistic attitude that led to Prohibition, while making wine at home led a generation and more to prefer sweeter wine. Because of Prohibition, states have different laws on alcohol, which is why it's impossible to get alcohol on a Sunday in Indiana but possible to get some over the border in Ohio. These laws also make shipping alcoholic beverages from one state to another bureaucratically tortuous. If it weren't for Prohibition, Bourbon could well be the world's leading whiskey and California the world's leading producer of wine.

reasons for Prohibition

The period from 1919, when the Eighteenth Amendment was passed, until its repeal in 1933 seems now a crazy time in American history, when an everyday activity was outlawed, the law routinely broken, and organised, violent crime became ordinary. Prohibition resulted, however, from many factors which still resonate today. Prohibition happened not just because of anti-alcohol sentiment - which was arguably still in a minority when Prohibition came into effect - but due to a wide-ranging and still on-going debate about what it meant to be American.

Anti-Saloon League slogan: perhaps not the deterrent intended

temperance movement

Dominated in large part by Anglo-Saxon Protestants, Methodists, and Baptists, the temperance movement was a reaction to the chronic alcoholism it saw afflicting the US. Similiar movements existed in Canada and northern European countries, where forms of Prohibition were introduced in Germany, Sweden, Norway, Iceland, and Finland. The UK also had its own movement, with Temperance Bars scattered around the country and a restriction on pub opening times enacted during the First World War, restrictions only fully lifted in 2003.

suffragism

Those initially most concerned with the nation's drinking problem were women, who saw the damage their fathers' and husbands' alcoholism could have on the family income and well-being. The Women's Christian Temperance Union (WCTU) was founded in 1874 by Frances Willard and 34 other women, and was an instrumental organisation in the campaign for limits on the sale of alcohol. This campaign became directly linked to the right for women to vote, in the tactical belief that any form of Prohibition would only be enacted if women were able to vote on the issue. The Eighteenth Amendment of 1919 brought in Prohibition, the Nineteenth of 1920 gave women the vote. 

income tax

The tax returns on alcohol were so high that proponents of Prohibition had to come up with an alternative revenue should alcohol be banned. The answer was federal income tax. Unlike the Eighteenth Amendment, the Sixteenth Amendment of 1913 introducing income tax has never been repealed. Ironically, the federal government later used Prohibition gangsters' unpaid income tax bills to imprison them.

the role of the government

Income tax was seen by its opponents as a trangression on an individual's rights: no government should have the right to impose a levy on an individual's wealth. The relationship between the federal government and the individual was, and still is, one that goes to the core of how America perceives itself. Not only did the imposition of Prohibition and income tax demonstrate a central government willing to intervene in the lives of its citizens, so did the methods, such as wiretapping and stop and search, used to combat criminality during Prohibition.

drinking

30% of federal revenue came from taxes on alcohol in 1910, much of it from beer. This was the period when national breweries began to dominate the industry, including Anheuser-Busch, still a giant conglomerate responsible for Budweiser. Most of the major breweries were German, and their customers German and Irish. The associated rise of the male-only, heavy-drinking saloon gave rise to the name of the most powerful Prohibition lobby, the Anti-Saloon League.

immigration

Anti-Saloon League poster

The object of Prohibitionists' ire were recent immigrants, in particular Jews and Catholics. The Irish and Italians, who viewed drinking as an everyday part of their culture, were attacked for their drinking habits, while the German brewers - such as Anheuser-Busch, Pabst, Miller - were viewed as un-American as the First World War approached. (The founder of Anheuser-Busch was best friends with Kaiser Wilhelm.) Some of the language was extreme towards "the scum of the Old World" (Frances Willard) and continued well into Prohibition; the 1928 Presidential candidate, Al Smith, lost the election due to a stream of anti-Catholic rhetoric as much for his anti-Prohibition stance. Meanwhile, the gangsters who emerged in the 1920s were often young European immigrants (over 6m arrived between 1900 and 1915), using Prohibition to establish a foothold in the US.

race

The Ku Klux Klan, refounded in 1915, initially vented their racist rhetoric against Catholics and Jews, but others were happy to push their views on race on to arguments in favour of Prohibition. A Nashville newspaper stated that, "The Negro, fairly docile and industrious, becomes, when filled with liquor, turbulent and dangerous." The black population did not have the vote at the time, but any political power they might gain was of concern. Frances Willard of the WCTU feared that, "the grogshop is the Negro's center of power." It wasn't just the Drys who used such objectionable language: a St. Louis distiller marketed a so-called "nigger gin" with the name, "Black Cock Vigor Gin." 

organised crime

Lucky Luciano

Organised crime wasn't invented with Prohibition, but it saw a new generation of mobsters form city-wide units able to distribute alcohol across the country. Although these informal organisations were bloody and brutal, they still managed to maintain a nationwide bootlegging network that was able to assuage the thirsty drinkers of Prohibition America. Annual sales of illegal liquor were estimated to total $3.6bn in 1926, and all untaxed. Chasing down the gangsters, who included such infamous names as Al Capone and Lucky Luciano - proved impossible for underfunded, undertrained, and often corrupt Prohibition and judicial officials - US attorneys spent 44% of their time prosecuting Prohibition offences, mostly by the ordinary drinker rather than the mobster.

bootlegging

Although there were enough stills producing high-strength alcohol of dubious quality around the US, plenty of alcohol was smuggled into the country. Neighbouring Canada, despite having watered-down Prohibition laws of its own, benefited greatly - legal whisky exports to the US rose from 8,335 gallons a year before Prohibtion to 1.1m by its end. Compensating for a decline in British whisky consumption, the Scottish whisky industry used its Canadian connections to establish a strong presence in the US, although the Caribbean was another starting point for smuggling - the 914 gallons of Scotch sent to the Bahamas in 1918 had already risen to 386,000 in 1922. The Bahaman tourist industry dates from Prohibition, due to the number of American tourists travelling there in search of a drink (also the origin of the cruise ship holiday).
 

the drinks industry

Only a handful of brewers made it through Prohibition - those large enough to maintain alternative production of ice-cream and, more relevantly, malt syrup for home brewers. At Repeal, they were ideally positioned to gain control of the new, legal demand for low-alcohol beer. These brewers were Anheuser-Busch, Pabst, Miller, and Coors, who still dominate American beer today.

The wine industry at first benefited from Prohibition. The necessary fashion for home-winemaking meant that the demand for grapes rose hugely, and the price of grapes in Napa and Sonoma hit record highs. The number of people drinking wine doubled in the first years of Prohibition, most of it made at home. As a result, quality was hit: plantings of Alicante Bouschet, which produces simple, boldly-coloured wine, overtook quality grapes and winemaking knowledge was lost, to the point that Californian wine did not regain its standards until the 1960s.

The taste for spirits had been in decline for some time before Prohibition. Even before national Prohibition, Jack Daniel's had been forced to move from its home in Tennessee to St. Louis. It moved back in 1938, where it is still based in a 'dry county.' 

drinkers' habits

Women entered Prohibition supporting it and left it opposing it. Prohibition made drinking an equal pastime, allowing men and women of different backgrounds to socialise together openly. Social, cultural, and racial divisions had been broken down - thanks to Prohibition, everyone was a drinker.

celebrating the end of Prohibition

 

consequences

Drinking actually went down after Prohibition, although this was due in part to the poverty of the 1930s and the war of the 1940s. But making drinking legal meant that the government could directly benefit from drinkers' habits, rather than try and punish them. Prohibition led to widespread social drinking, the popularity of cocktails, and a tendency towards sweetness in alcoholic drinks, but it's the broader social and political effects that perhaps have had more consequences: for instance, the increased role of federal government. Arguments over that role and attitudes towards immigrants continue today. Despite the failure of Prohibition, which led to hardened drinking and increased crime, various governments around the world still believe it to be the correct policy to adapt towards drugs.

further reading: "Last Call: The Rise and Fall of Prohibition" by Daniel Okrent (2010)

Riesling

One of my tutors on the WSET Level 3 summarised students' appreciation of Riesling: "When you study Level 1, you just don't get Riesling. At Level 2, you realise it's important but you don't understand why. By Level 3, you begin to appreciate it more but still don't quite understand why everyone goes on about it. It's only when you study the Diploma that you realise it produces the greatest white wines of the world." Likewise, the Oxford Companion to Wine describes Alsace Riesling as "one of the most difficult varieties for beginners, but one of the most rewarding wines for connoisseurs."

This may seem a snobby, off-putting way of viewing wine - 'you can only appreciate it if you know what you're talking about' - but Riesling does not have the broad appeal of Sauvignon Blanc or Chardonnay. Its flavours are varied and complex, it develops difficult petrol-like aromas as it matures, it's a demanding grape at its best in cool-climate areas, and it's difficult to grow well and economically. Riesling is not so much a drink for connossieurs, but it is one for those - both winemakers and drinkers - willing to dedicate some time and effort to it.

It's also suffered from the whims of fashion. The popularity of Blue Nun and other low-quality German wines in the 1970s and 80s caused the reputation of both German wine and Riesling to fall, even though many of those wines were made from Müller-Thurgau. It's taken a very different style of Riesling from Australia to help regain the grape's reputation.

where it's grown

Riesling's heartland is in the cool areas of Germany around the great Rhine and Mosel rivers. The vines grow on slopes that steeply rise from the river on difficult soils. Particularly in the cool climate of the Mosel, Riesling has to work incredibly hard, which is why the wines are so austere with high acidity. Riesling is also one of the 'noble' grapes in neighbouring Alsace, the only area of France where the grape is able to be grown. The wines are lightly floral when young, gaining a gunflint complexity as they mature.

Despite Australia's reputation as a blisteringly hot country making big, fruity wines, it has gained standing for its Rieslings. In the high altitude areas of Clare Valley and Eden Valley near Adelaide, the wines are fruitier (zesty limes) and more giving than their Alsatian and German counterparts. It is these bone-dry Rieslings, with characteristically high acidity, which have turned drinkers back on to the grape.

styles

The great Rieslings of Germany are known for their sweetness. The regulations and terminology of German winemaking are convoluted and labyrinthine, and it can be difficult to know what level of sweetness to expect. However, the lower the alcohol (and it can be as low as 7-8%), the sweeter the wine. As sweet German wines have fallen out of fashion, more producers are making dry Rieslings (labelled "Trocken") to follow the popularity of Australian wines. Alsace, on the other hand, has always made bone-dry Riesling.

wines

I conducted a blind tasting of three Rieslings, from the Mosel, Alsace, and Napa, an area certainly not known for its Riesling.

Trefethen Dry Riesling 2013 ($25)

The US in general has yet to master Riesling. It is the second most-planted white grape in Washington State, where Chateau Ste Michelle is the world's biggest producer of Riesling, but the wines lack depth and complexity. Oregon, cool and rainy, ought to have the potential to produce interesting Riesling, but producers stick to Pinot Noir - only 718 acres of the grape are planted (compared to over 15,000 acres of Pinot Noir). If you can, try Chehalem's Rieslings. Finger Lakes in New York is cool enough for Riesling, although the wines are still too expensive for what they are. A good example of Finger Lakes Riesling is the Tierce Dry Riesling, made by three of the area's top producers.

California, meanwhile, is just too hot and sunny, but there are a small band of producers that battle through regardless. The cool hills of Santa Rita offer potential for the grape, but only a handful of producers dare tackle it in Napa and Sonoma; in my tastings, I've only encountered Riesling from three producers - Scribe, Chateau Montelena, and Trefethen. In The Wines of the Napa Valley, Larry Walker describes Trefethen's Riesling as "consistently at the head of the class for California," although that's a very small class. Dry, with green apples and a lemon and lime zest, the wine has a nice acidity and the characteristics of Riesling. It lacks complexity, however, its flavours pleasing but somewhat one-dimensional, demonstrating the difficulties winemakers in California have in making truly memorable wine from the grape.

S. A. Prüm Graacher Domprost Estate Bottled 2009 ($31)

From a famous vineyard on the steep slate slopes of the Middle Mosel, this is a superb example of Riesling at its most complex, although not quite as sweet as the classic style of Mosel wine. A wet, farmyard nose with orange peel and apricots, spicy butterscotch, and a whiff of petrol, the wine is maturing nicely at five years of age. Despite that age, the acidity on the palate still gives the wine plenty of structure. The fruits on the palate are a little fresher and more citrus-based than the nose, suggesting that the wine has a few years left yet, and the long finish has a slightly sweet, cinnamon, and white pepper feel. An outstanding wine at an astonishing price, from San Francisco's Ferry Plaza Wine Merchants.

Domaine Ostertag Heissenberg Alsace AOC Riesling 2011 ($36)

Ostertag are one of my favourite producers. Biodynamic, the wines are of a guaranteed quality but also individuality. Slightly younger than its German counterpart but from rich, mineral soils, this Riesling still has a developing, petrol nose with strong orange-citrus flavours. Floral too, with a dry, spicy finish. The rich flavours of the wine make it an ideal accompaniment to an oily, acidic dish such as salmon. As good a wine as this is, however, it lacks the long complexity of the Mosel.

 

No surprises that the Napa Riesling could not compete with Alsace or the Mosel. I was surprised, however, by how much quality was packed into the latter wine at the $30 mark. The Mosel, with its steep slopes and small vineyards, is a difficult area in which to make quality wine, yet this wine was a complex, sophisticated wine at a very reasonable price. Proof that the best wines of Germany are not always at an off-putting price and evidence of the quality German wine often reaches.

Cocktails

I've recently been having fun putting cocktails together, experimenting with different ingredients, discovering combinations that work together surprisingly well. I had never been much of a cocktail person - finding them too strong and expensive - but when I worked at hangingditch I became fascinated with the different spirits, liqueurs, and bitters that people would come in specifically asking for. Now I'm already becoming one of those people, searching out obscure ingredients that will provide a subtle but vital fix to the recipe.

history

Cocktails date from early on in the nineteenth century, when they were a mix of spirits, sugar, water, and bitters. They gradually became more complicated, with liqueurs added to the mix. Their height in the US was during Prohibition, often to cover up the dubious quality of spirits. Gin was a popular base spirit - as in eighteenth-century England, an easy spirit to make, easy to make badly, and easy to get drunk on. After the Second World War, gin was replaced by vodka, a neutral spirit to which many flavours could be added. After a lull in the 1960s and 70s in the US (though in the UK they became popular with the rise of middle-class dinner parties), cocktails returned to fashion in the 1980s, particularly in New York. This was also the point when Bourbon, which hadn't really recovered from Prohibition, was embraced back into American drinking culture through cocktails like the Manhattan and Old-Fashioned.

bitters

Historically created for their health-giving properties, bitters are alcoholic liquids with bittering agents added, such as quinine, angelica, orange, or rhubarb. Those bitter flavours can also be aromatised by the further addition of clove, vanilla, coriander, or ginger.

Many of the great bitter drinks originate from central Europe, in particular northern Italy where they are called amaro. A famous amaro apertif is Campari, which is used to give colour to cocktails; its bitterness tempered with a sweet edge, it's made from bitter orange, quinine, and rhubarb. A lower strength, less complex, more herbal alternative is Aperol.  

Amaro can also be drunk as a digestif. Italy's top-selling amaro is Averna, which is sweet and made from herbs, bark, and botanicals. The Czech Republic also produces another famous sweet, herbal digestif, Becherovka. Other digestifs are overtly and intensely bitter, designed to be drunk in small quantities. A famous example is Fernet Branca, made from rhubarb, saffron, aloe, myrrh, iris, bitter orange, and cinnamon. More notorious is Jägermeister, made from 56 different herbs.

For use in cocktails, there are many specifically flavoured bitters which have been reduced to their essence. The most famous are Angostura's aromatic bitters, a secret recipe made from herbs and spices. Originally a medicinal drink for the army of the great Venezuelan revolutionary Simon Bolivar, these are an essential element of any cocktail bar. A classic cocktail featuring them is a Pink Gin, which dates from the days of the British Empire in India. A favourite of Ian Fleming, it's made with 2½ ounces of gin and 4-5 dashes of Angostura, with a lemon twist.

Another historic producer is Peychaud, from New Orleans, whose bitters are more aromatic and sweeter, and the key ingredient in a Sazerac cocktail. Other great producers include Bob's Bitters and Bittermens, and many new companies are emerging as cocktails once again become popular. My good friend Matt Hemeyer makes spiced bitters at addition, a fine example of the imagination and experimentation behind every great cocktail.

vermouth

Dating from late-eighteenth-century Turin, vermouth is a vital ingredient in classic cocktails such as a Martini, a Manhattan, or a Negroni. Vermouth is wine with herbs, bark, and roots added to it and can be either sweet or dry. Famous brands are Punt e Mes, from Italy's Carpano family who also produce Antica Formula, a richer, fuller high-quality vermouth, Cinzano, and Martini & Rosso.

liqueurs

A liqueur is a spirit flavoured, infused, or distilled with herbs, fruits, or flowers and often with a sweet syrup added. The complex, intense aromas make them ideal for adding to a cocktail. Crème de Cassis is a liqueur made by soaking blackcurrants in alcohol; added to white wine it makes Kir and to Champagne a Kir Royale. Other similar liqueurs, which will make a profound difference to a cocktail with just a small amount, include Crème de Cacao and Crème de Menthe. Another famous liqueur is Grand Marnier, which is Cognac flavoured with the distilled essence of bitter oranges, while Cointreau is another orange-flavoured liqueur from sweet and bitter orange peels (non-branded alternatives are called Triple Sec). Amaretto, meanwhile, is flavoured with almonds. The list is endless.

cocktails

Here are some cocktails I've made recently which I've enjoyed, arranged by the core ingredient.

Brandy

Although Cognac would be the preferred base, a good brandy will suffice. Likewise with fruit brandies - good Calvados, an apple brandy from Normandy, is expensive and Laird's Applejack does the job.

Corpse Reviver

As the name suggests, this is a hangover 'cure' - at the very least, it will wake you up. There are a number of different recipes each called the Corpse Reviver; this one is brandy based. An equal combination of three ingredients - 1oz each of brandy, applejack, and sweet vermouth.

Champagne

It may seem sacrilege to corrupt a drink as fine as Champagne with other ingredients, but it nevertheless makes a superb base for complex cocktails.

Jumping Jellybean

Add 1oz each of tequila blanco, Grand Marnier, and fresh lemon juice to a chilled flute, and then top it up with Champagne. The result is a refreshing, citrusy, salty drink.

Gin

For some base drinks - for example, white rum - the quality of the spirit doesn't matter too much, but with a spirit like gin it's essential. The mix of botanicals will impart vital flavours to the drink. The classic gin cocktail is the Martini, a combination of gin and dry vermouth.

Alfonso Special

Mix and shake 1½oz of Grand Marnier, ¾oz each of gin and dry vermouth, and ¼oz sweet vermouth, with a couple of dashes of Angostura to create a bitter, spicy cocktail.

Rum

White rum, which has fairly neutral flavours of tropical fruits, is a great base for cocktails as it adds some but not too many flavours to the mix. It's what else goes into the mix that counts.

La Floridita

Mix and shake 1½oz white rum, ¾oz sweet vermouth, ¼oz crème de cacao, and 1oz of fresh lime juice, with a dash of grenadine. That touch of crème de cacao gives a strong chocolately finish to the spicy, herbal, cherry-like vermouth.

Tequila

Although darker versions of tequila can be used, it's tequila blanco that's most common - most famously in the Margarita. Always use good-quality tequila that's been made from 100% agave.

Tequila Mockingbird

Mix and shake 2oz of tequila blanco, ½oz of white crème de menthe, and 1oz of fresh lime juice. Float a sliced lime wheel on top. A beautifully coloured, salty, minty drink.

Vodka

A neutral-tasting spirit, vodka nevertheless comes in different guises, made from a range of base materials including grain, potatoes, or grapes. Increasingly fashionable now are flavoured vokdas such as vodka citron.

Agent Orange

Everything about this cocktail is orange, flavouring the neutral flavour of the vodka: 1½oz vodka, ¾oz Grand Marnier, ¼oz Cointreau, and ½oz fresh orange juice. 
 

Whiskey

Many whiskey-based cocktails use Bourbon (such as the Old-Fashioned) or rye whiskey (Manhattan, though some prefer Bourbon). Others use Canadian whisky, perhaps because so much whisky came from Canada during Prohibition, when cocktails were all the rage as part of the Roaring Twenties.

Commodore

1½oz of Bourbon, ¾oz of crème de cacao, and ½oz of fresh lemon juice. The flavours here are strong and powerful - great if you have a cold.

serving cocktails

There are different glasses for different types of cocktails. A Martini glass has a long thin stem with an inverted conal glass; a Margarita glass is similar but more like a goblet. An Old-Fashioned glass is a stocky tumbler, which is used for serving drinks over ice. The other classic cocktail glass is a Highball, tall and straight and to be filled with ice. Even if a cocktail isn't served with ice, it's usually mixed and shaken with ice in a cocktail shaker.

Cocktails are fun. They do require quite a stash of alcohol at home to make, which is fine if you're a collector like me. They work as aperitifs or as a pick-me-up after a hard day's work; they're also a great way of exploring spirits and discovering the world of obscure European drinks that survive because of the inventiveness of bartenders around the world.

Furmint

One of the great wines of the world is Tokaji: an historic, complex, lusciously sweet wine from the foothills of the Carpathian mountains in the north east of Hungary (the area is called Tokaj; the sweet wine is usually referred to as "Tokaji" - literally, "from Tokaj"). Hungarian wine suffered hugely under Communist rule and Tokaji was in a state of seemingly terminable decline. On the collapse of Communism in 1989, wine author Hugh Johnson helped found the Royal Tokaji Company in order to revive the great drink; such has been its success that standards of Tokaji have risen to where they once were, and the region has seen further outside investment, including from Vega Sicilia.

Tokaji is made from three different grapes: Furmint, Hárslevelű, and Sárga Muscotály (known elsewhere as Muscat). Hárslevelű gives intense smoky flavours, while Sárga Muscotály is more aromatic. The most important of the three grapes is Furmint, from which nutty, honey aromas develop as the wine matures.

The international standing of Tokaji is allowing a young generation of Hungarian winemakers to make wines in a more modern style, in particular from the Furmint grape. Rather than the traditionally sweet wines made from the grape, these wines are dry and come from vineyards planted at higher altitudes to avoid humidity. Although it's taking a while for the rest of the world to take notice, they can be quite extraordinary. 

Representatives of twelve different producers are currently visiting the USA to promote their dry wines made from Furmint, and I got a chance to taste their wines in Sonoma. Almost none of these is available in the country yet but I would have loved to have taken a bottle of each home with me.

the winemakers couldn't be present in person, but their studio portraits could

the grape

Focusing on Furmint to produce single-varietal dry wine is a recent phenomenon, only beginning in 2000 with a wine from American-owned Kiràlyudar. It's quite neutral in flavour but the wines develop pronounced nutty aromas - I found marzipan in many of the wines. It grows vigorously, ripens late, and is noticeable for a pronounced acidity and a "minerality" - not a word I like to use to describe a wine, but which denotes a dry, steely, stony quality which can't be summed up with any other word. It has long accounted for 70% of plantings in the Tokaj region, where it is still mostly grown.

All wine from Tokaj is great with food, with wines ranging from dry to the impossibly sweet Eszencia. The wines I tasted had two distinct qualities - they were either dry or off-dry and had been aged in stainless steel or for a short period in a mixture of new and old oak. This results in a range of flavours, which means that the following wines could be a perfect match with cold meats, grilled cheeses, duck breast, or even something as strong as barbequed ribs.

the wines

The tasting was divided into four flights of three, each getting progressively more complex.

flight one

good examples of Furmint without any ageing: citrus and nutty aromas
1. Kvaszinger Winery Kanyargós Furmint 2012
Fresh citrus (lime zest) with a creamy, off-dry mouth. Nice, immediate flavours with good structure.
2. Paulay Tokaji Bitangjó Furmint 2012
Pronounced, stark flavours of citrus, spice, and marzipan.
3. Tokaj-Hétszóló Vineyards Tokaji Furmint Selection 2013
Clear citrus aromas with a bit of almond nuttiness.

flight two

slightly more complex, with richer, creamier flavours and, in the case of wine 5, a touch of oak
4. Gróf Degenfeld Tokaji Furmint Zomborka 2013
Mineral citrus aromas on the nose, backed up with a peachy ripeness on the palate. Off-dry (7.8g/L), that slight sweetness coming through in the peachy flavours but off-set with a high acidity.
5. Sauska Tokaj Winery Furmint Birtok 2012
Creamy - 50% of the wine was aged in oak - and nutty, with a dry, stony, spicy palate with bitter white chocolate.
6. Basilicus Tokaji Furmint Mestervölgy Vineyard 2012
A zesty citrus nose with a touch of Sauvignon Blanc to it, but much richer on the palate with vanilla spices.

flight three

single-vineyard wines which are always aged in a mixture of new and old oak
7. Bardon Omega 2012
Rich, sweet creaminess with a marzipan nuttiness and bitter white chocolate.
8. Erzsebet Cellar Király Dúló 2012
Stinky, farmyard nose, with spices, tropical fruits, and a little bit of candied fruit. Very good acidity on the palate, with a long ripe finish. My favourite wine of the tasting and one that would be interesting to insert into a Burgundy line-up.
9. Gizella Szil-Völgy Furmint 2012
More mineral than the previous wine, with grapefruit and a creamily vanilla nose. Complex, long finish to a balanced, subtle, almost austere wine.

flight four

complex, deep expressions of single vineyards with ageing potential
10. Majoros Tokaji Furmint Agyag 2009
The oldest wine of the tasting, giving a hint of what dry Furmint tastes like with a bit of age. A rich golden colour, with developed, dried fruits (figs and prunes) on the nose; smoky, bitter, and nutty on the palate. And - not a word normally positively associated with wine - vinegar: but vinegar as an extremely complex expression of the base wine.
11. Balassa Winery Betsek Furmint Riolit 2013
Pronounced citrus and peach flavours: like a deep, oaky Sauvignon Blanc.
12. Barta Winery Old King Vineyard Furmint 2012
An incredibly nutty, pronounced nose, with a rich, round marzipan mouth and a pepper spiciness. Already some maturity to the wine; with that amount of complex nuttiness already, it's not clear where this wine will go.

"multi-faceted, pure excitement." - Barta Winery's owner Károly Barta

I've tasted dry Furmint on a couple of occasions before and been excited by the wines, but this was my first prolonged tasting of the grape. The quality was very high; the wines had a uniformly impressive acidity with a complex, nutty texture regardless of whether the wine had been aged in oak or came from a top vineyard. The Furmint grape is neutral enough in flavour to allow the character of both the winemaker and the vineyard to shine. Although I would not wish attention to be drawn away from the historic sweet wines of the region, these dry wines can give Tokaj - and Hungary - a new audience.

Furmint on a sunny afternoon

Pinot Noir Blind Tasting

I've been tasting lots of Californian wine over the last three months, but it's time I got back into Diploma mode with a blind tasting flight of three wines from around the world. The final Diploma exam on 'Light Wines of the World' isn't till next June, so it's hard to focus on studying for it - but this is such a big subject that I can't put it off too long.

The exam is broken down into two sections: theory and tasting, both lasting two hours. The tasting exam has four flights of three wines, all tasted blind and which might be arranged by theme - grape variety or region, for example - or randomly. Twelve wines in two hours leaves ten minutes to assess each wine - describe the appearance, nose, and palate, and reach a conclusion on the quality of the wine.

For this blind tasting, I knew the theme - all the wines were from Pinot Noir - but didn't know the wines themselves. The key to blind tasting is not to try and second guess yourself: analyse the wine for what it is, not for what you think it might be, and let the wine speak for itself.

The WSET has a "Systematic Approach to Tasting," which breaks down flavours into different categories and forces you to analyse each technical aspect of the wine - acidity, tannins, alcohol - using uniform language. This can be a frustrating, formulaic way of approaching wine, but it does provide consistency to what can be an inconsistent exercise.

As you can see below, these are not the sexiest of tasting notes, lacking the florid poetry that journalists use in wine reviews. However, they should make clear the nature and style of the wine and its quality - rather than the subjective vocabulary of a review, the notes are designed to be objective. Here are my tasting notes as the WSET would expect to see them in the exam:

Wine 1

Appearance
Clear, medium ruby colour, with legs.
Nose
Clean, pronounced intensity, and developing.
Raspberry and cherry red fruits, with toast, smoke, and vanilla from the oak ageing, with sweet spices cinnamon and nutmeg. Floral notes of violets and rose petals.
Palate
Dry, high acidity, with medium, soft tannins. Medium + alcohol, medium + body, with a pronounced flavour intensity and a long, lasting finish.
As with the nose, raspberry and cherry red fruits, as well as strawberry. More herbal on the palate, with rosemary and sage; also rose petals. Backed up by toast, smoke, and vanilla from the oak.
Conclusion
Outstanding: complex balance of fruits, oak, and herbal/floral aromas, with ageing potential due to the good tannins, high acidity, and clear fruit flavours.

The best way to draw a conclusion on a wine is, by using your tasting notes, to follow the acronym BLIC - Balance, Length, Intensity, Complexity - analysing the balance of acidity, tannins, fruits, and oak; the flavour and intensity of the finish; the intensity, depth, and range of flavours; and the overall complexity of the wine.

Wine 2

Appearance
Clear, medium ruby colour, with legs.
Nose
Faulty - medicinal, smells like cough sweets.

A faulty wine will not be poured for the exam - students can assume that the appearance of each wine is "clear" and the nose "clean." This is because there isn't enough to write about a faulty wine - it tastes wrong, and that's about it - and there's no way you can form a conclusion about its quality.

Wine 3

Appearance
Clear, medium ruby colour, with legs.
Nose
Clean, medium + intensity, developing.
Red fruits flavours of strawberry, cherry, and jammy plums, with some black fruits coming through too - blackcurrant, blackberry. Dried fruits too, particularly figs. Use of oak, giving vanilla and smoke.
Palate
Dry, high acidity, with lightly gripping, drying medium + tannins. Medium + alcohol, medium body, with medium + flavour intensity and a medium + finish.
Juicy, jammy red fruits of strawberry, cherry, plums with black fruits - blackcurrant, blackberry - and dried fruits - figs. As with the nose, smoke and vanilla from the oak, as well as pepper.
Conclusion
Very good: an intense, dark wine with forward fruits and integrated use of oak; a wine of balanced complexity but lacking a certain subtlety and elegance.

Describing the flavours of the palate can be repetitive - there's not likely to be much different from the nose. That's why the nose is so important, the taster's first, immediate analysis of the aromas, while the palate is more about the technical details - acidity, tannins, alcohol, body.

so what were the wines?

 

Wine 1 - Cartograph Floodgate Vineyard Russian River 2011 ($44)

Continuing my burgeoning love affair with Sonoma Pinot Noir, a wine of real complexity and depth of flavour.

Wine 2 - Domaine Odoule-Coquard Chambolle-Musigny 2011 ($47)

It was devastating to discover that the corked wine was from Burgundy: its flavours were flat and medicinal, with no hint of its quality.

Wine 3 - Domaine Ostertag Vignoble d'E ($27)

For a wine from cool Alsace, this was a surprisingly full, fruity, dark wine. Its fruits were just a bit too jammy to rank as outstanding.

Tasting wines blind also challenges preconceptions: the most complex and cool of the wines was from California while the wine from Alsace was the darkest and most intense in colour and taste. Three wines from the same grape pushes the taste buds: the flavour profile of each wine is bound to be similar, but the balance, intensity, and complexity of those flavours different. Rather than simply describing the fruits in a wine, it's the latter qualities that matter.