non solo Nebbiolo

Nebbiolo may be the most important grape in Piemonte, but there are plenty of others grown in the area, producing many different styles of wine. Here are some of those grapes, and some of the wines I tasted on my recent trip.

not only Nebbiolo: Sauvignon Blanc, Chardonnay, Dolcetto, Merlot, and Moscato at Marchesi di Grésy

Arneis

Piemonte isn't particularly known for its white grapes, but there are plenty of them. Arneis is perhaps the most interesting. In the local dialect, "arneis" means "little rascal," which may explain its name as the grape is hard to grow and vinify. It used to be planted with Nebbiolo, as its strong flavours attracted birds away from the more expensive black grape, and it was also blended with Nebbiolo to soften it. After nearly disappearing in the 1970s, it's made a welcome comeback, though wines from the grape still aren't seen that often outside Piemonte. The wines are full-bodied but not aged in oak, with perfume and pear aromas.

Favorita

This is actually the same grape as Vermentino, a white grape grown elsewhere in coastal north-west Italy and the south of France, as well as Sardinia and Corsica (it's arguably at its best by the sea, where it takes on fresh, saline qualities). In Piemonte as Favorita, the wines are fragrant and mineral, fresh but quite full bodied. I had a glass with some gnocchi, and it had the acidity and full flavours to stand up to the tomato sauce. 

Moscato

In French, this grape is called Muscat Blanc à Petits Grains, and is one of the oldest and most important grapes in the world. It's one of the few grapes that actually smells of grapes, making its aroma extremely distinctive. In Piemonte, it's grown to produce two sweet sparkling wines, Asti and Moscato d'Asti. The reputation of Asti isn't particularly great, mainly because its heyday was the 1970s and 80s, but 80m bottles a year are produced of this sweet, low alcohol, fully sparkling wine. Moscato d'Asti is a superior wine with a lower level of alcohol (5-5.5%), slightly sweeter, and only lightly sparkling. Perfumed, floral, and fragrant, Moscato d'Asti is a beautiful wine for a summer's day and a bowl of strawberries. Even better, because of its low alcohol, it's always cheap.

We also tasted a late harvest Moscato from Marchesi di Grésy, L'altro Moscato 2007, a wine made only in dry conditions to avoid rot. A complex sweet wine that had spent three years in barriques, it had inviting aromas of orange peel, marmalade, and dried apricots, as well as honey and chestnuts.

International Varieties

A Nebbiolo-Cabernet Sauvignon-Merlot blend from renowned Barbaresco producer, Gaja.

There are quite a few varieties not indigeneous to Piemonte also grown in the area. G. D. Vajra produce a delicious Riesling from vines planted in 1986. We tasted a very balanced Sauvignon Blanc from Marchesi di Grésy, who also make a very oaky Chardonnay. In the Monferrato DOC, Grésy make a mature, developed, and sophisticated Merlot - the 2007 is to be released in the coming months, and we were fortunate to taste it before it's been bottled. Piemonte winemakers are protective of the local grapes, but at the same time willing to experiment in small quantities with other grapes.

Dolcetto

Misleadingly meaning "the little sweet one," Dolcetto is mainly found under the Dolcetto d'Alba DOC. It's usually a straightforward, fruity wine, deep in colour with quite high tannins and low acidity - a combination which provides a challenge to the winemaker. It's normally designed to be drunk young, though some examples can age for around five years. Vajra's Dolcetto d'Alba 2012 was a good example of the grape - red fruits, floral, light, and ideal for a spring day. Their Dolcetto Coste & Fassati 2011 is more serious, from forty-year-old vines on two Barolo vineyards, with more tannins and spicy flavours, and more ageing potential.

Barbera

There are two appellations for the Barbera grape, Barbera d'Alba and Barbera d'Asti DOCs. The wines from Alba are darker and more powerful than the brighter, more elegant wines of Asti. Quality varies, but if the wine is aged in new barriques (which is more common than with Nebbiolo), it can produce wines with complex, oaky, spicy depth. Again, G. D. Vajra produce two good examples. The Barbera d'Alba 2011 had toast, smoke, and barbeque flavours, with spices and red fruits. The Barbera d'Alba Superiore 2010 was complex, from west- and east-facing vineyards, contributing finesse and power respectively. This had real structure and depth, with pepper and tobacco, dark fruits and smoke, but with a bright acidity. Another exceptional wine is the powerful, rich, oaky Barbera d'Alba Conte Tre Pile from Aldo Conterno, a renowned Barolo producer I wasn't fortunate enough to visit. The 2009 is as good a Barbera as I've tasted.

Brachetto

Brachetto d'Acqui is the red equivalent of Moscato d'Asti - low alcohol, very lightly sparkling, and sweet. As with the wine I tried in the photo below, it can also be made in the passito style - where the grapes are allowed to dry, which creates sweetness in the wine. Either way, Brachetto d'Acqui is a beautiful, vibrant red colour with aromas of roses and wild strawberries. It goes especially well with chocolate - how any meal should finish.

Barolo Chinato

An increasingly popular drink invented in the early twentieth century, this amaro is made from old Barolo wine. The name comes from the cinchona bark that's steeped in the wine, which is then infused with herbs, roots, and spices - each producer has their own recipe. When we were in Barolo, we visited the odd, but fun, wine museum; at the end of it, there was a Chinato and chocolate tasting. We only had time to taste one from Barolo producer Borgogno - herbal and bitter, it went well with dark chocolate.

In a region dominated by Nebbiolo, all these different grapes can get overlooked. However, because Nebbiolo is taken so seriously, it means that there are lots of winemakers with the know-how, experience, and enthusiasm to make very good wine from other grapes at more affordable prices. The severity and power of Barolo and Barbaresco are not for everyday drinking, but Piemonte has plenty of alternatives to offer.

solo Nebbiolo

Last weekend, I travelled to Piemonte in north-west Italy with @bleuettextiles to taste some of the great wines of the area. As its name suggests, the region lies at the foot of the Alps and it shares as many cultural, culinary, and linguistic traits with neighbouring France and Switzerland as it does with the rest of Italy. There are so many great wines made here, as well as amaro and grappa, but all paths lead to Nebbiolo.

the grape

Nebbiolo's a difficult grape to grow and despite attempts to make wine from the grape elsewhere in the world, it's only in Piemonte, with its calcareous marl soils around the town of Alba, that truly great wine is produced from the grape. It buds early and ripens late, so needs a long growing season, and any late bad weather will reduce the quality of the harvest dramatically. Climate change has seen a succession of very good or exceptional vintages since the mid to late 1990s, which in a sense has reduced the need for the skill of the winemaker. 2012 and 13 were much more difficult and unbalanced years and will see that skill, as well as the terroir of the best vineyards, come back to the fore.

Barolo vines with an Alpine backdrop

Its primary flavours are perfumed, fragrant, and floral (violets, roses), and these full-flavoured aromas balance the high acidity and tannins of the grape. Like Pinot Noir and Grenache, wine from Nebbiolo is pale-coloured and can develop a garnet or brick-red rim quite quickly. For premium expressions, there will be a long period of oak ageing too which can easily mask the primary aromas if not handled well. 

Terroir is all important, probably more so in Piemonte than in any area of the world other than Burgundy. The character and style of Nebbiolo vary from vineyard to vineyard and the vintage will have a huge influence on the quality of the wine. The role of the winemaker is all important, his or her experience and knowledge of the grape, the vineyard, the soil, the vintage conditions, and the ageing process vital. All these factors mean that one wine made from Nebbiolo can taste very different from one made just next door, as my weekend's tasting proved. 

where?

Langhe

Langhe is a wide geographical area in which the smaller, more significant appellations fall and where wines from a number of grape varieties are produced. Nebbiolo del Langhe is a wine that hasn't spent much time ageing and is often made from young vines. These are immediate, easy-drinking wines that go well with a simple meat or pasta dish. 

Barolo

Barolo village

This is the most famous name in the region and where Nebbiolo gets serious. Barolo itself is a small, pretty hilltop village (they all are around here), while the Barolo DOCG spreads out to several other villages in the area. Wine has been made there for centuries, but, as with many traditional European areas, what we drink today is more modern in style than we perhaps realise.

Until the mid-nineteenth century, Barolo was a sweet wine, as growers found it difficult to pick the late-ripening Nebbiolo without there being some residual sugar in the grape. The development of Barolo has been one of gradual modernisation, meaning that the much-cited distinction between "traditional" and "modern" Barolo is meaningless. In most cases, the old and the new have come together in ways unique to each winery, again adding to the sense of terroir that gives each wine its own individual character. 

from winedine.com

The rules state that a Barolo must be aged in oak for at least two years - small or large, new or old barrels - and a further two years in the bottle. Thus, the most recent vintage you'll see on the market is 2009. How long it takes a Barolo to ready itself for drinking depends on how the wine has been made: long or short fermentation; old, large or small, new oak barrels; fruity or tannin heavy; and the area of Barolo it's from.

There are eleven villages which form the DOCG, but historically the five most important are Barolo, La Morra, Castiglione Falletto, Serralunga d'Alba, and Monforte d'Alba. Generally, the vineyards around Barolo and La Morra produce softer, more fragrant wines, while those to the east around the village of Serralunga d'Alba are harder, more powerful.

One aspect of winemaking which is quite new is single-vineyard wines, which enables smaller producers to distinguish themselves. Although one may argue that Barolo is at its best as a blended expression of all the area's different styles, single-vineyard wines demonstrate the variety of terroirs in the area as well as pointing to the harmonious complexity of blended wines.

Barbaresco

This is another small, pretty hilltop village about thirty minutes drive north of Barolo. It's a smaller DOCG, half the size of Barolo, with plantings concentrated on three villages (Barbaresco, Neive, and Treiso). Its history is younger too, fermenting Nebbiolo to dryness a practice only perfected in the 1890s. It became a DOC in the 1960s when its wines began to receive international interest thanks in part to local, ambitious, and imaginative winemaker Angelo Gaja.

The wines are required to age in oak for just one year, meaning that they can be more approachable at a younger age than Barolos. They are generally more fragrant and perfumed than those of Barolo, though tannins still abound. The wines of Barbaresco may not be as famous as Barolo, but they are complex, delicate, and robust wines with lots of ageing potential.

producers I visited  

Damilano 

"the wine of kings, the king of wine"

This is a "young" winery, only in its fourth generation. After experimenting with barriques, it returned to more traditional methods in 2007. We tasted through a series of single-vineyard wines all from 2009, sensing the subtle differences between each vineyard. Cannubi is a sandy vineyard on a slope right next to the village and the wine was floral, spicy, and balanced; Cerequio is near the village of La Morra and the wine was earthier, bitterer, and stalkier; Brunate is also near La Morra, but the wine was fruitier. Needless to say they all had big, gripping tannins. The Lecinquevigne 2007, made from five different vineyards, was more immediate and fruit forward. This has less ageing potential than the other wines, but at the same time can be drunk much younger and is an easier, less serious wine.

 

G. D. Vajra

This is very much a family winery. We met the son and daughter of G. D. himself, who had set it up in the early 1970s, with the reluctant help of his Turin-based parents who didn't wish to see him waste his career making wine in the countryside. They had sense on their side as there had been a succession of poor vintages, but he used his knowledge and enthusiasm to establish a winery that combines the best of tradition with innovation. We tasted two of their Barolos: the Albe 2009, from three vineyards (Fossati, Coste, La Volta), all of which have different exposures to the sun, making it a good example of Barolo as a balanced expression of the character of different vineyards. All three vineyards are around the village of Barolo itself, so the perfumed and floral character was apparent. 2009 was a warm vintage, which means the wine matures more quickly: the wine was already quite approachable. The 2008 Bricco delle Vole was a fantastic single-vineyard wine that still needs some time to mature properly. From 60-80-year-old vines, it was much fruitier with lots of structure, but with finesse and elegance, and perfume and softer tannins. 

The family have recently taken over Liugi Baudana, an old, respectable winery whose plantings are more towards Serralunga, making the Barolos darker, richer, and earthier, with more gripping tannins.

small and large barrels at G. D. Vajra

 

Produttori del Barbaresco

The idea that Barbaresco produces wines that don't need as much ageing as Barolo was immediately challenged by these tannin-heavy wines. Produttori are quite a traditional producer - one of the most important co-operatives in Italy, making wine from 51 growers - who solely use old oak barrels. My favourite two wines were both from 2008, a balanced, classic vintage: the Barbaresco and the Riserva (meaning an extra year in oak), a single-vineyard wine from Pajé. Both were exceptional, but need another five or six years before drinking.

Marchesi di Grésy

The family have been making wine since the nineteenth century, selling wine to the Produttori, but the current Marchesi went alone in the 1970s, establishing it as one of the leading wineries in Barbaresco. They have vineyards surrounding the estate, as well as further away in Monferrato, where they produce a fantastic Merlot (we tasted the latest, unreleased vintage, 2007).

Martinenga vineyard

Their most important vineyard, Martinenga, forms an amphitheatre right behind the winery. The largest, central part produces wine every year for the Barbaresco - the 2009 we tasted was elegant and fragrant, with liquorice and smoke, and a developing tobacco. Although still part of the Martinenga vineyard, the lefthand side is called Gaiun. The 2008 was typical of the vineyard: smoke, tannins, and spice, but balsamic and pine needles, with dried fruits coming through. To the other side is Camp Gros - much bigger tannins and more powerful, with spice, red fruits, oak, herbs, and earth, with lots of ageing potential. We also tasted the 2005, which was drinking wonderfully now, though still with plenty of tannins and acidity. The fruits, flowers, and power were all in balance but with a hint of tertiary aromas coming through to indicate its potential for further ageing. Tasting these three wines side by side showed just how varied wine from the same site can be: proof of the power of terroir.

the wines are aged in barriques for 6-8 months (new, nearly new, and old), before being moved to large barrels

 

grappa

Just about every winery makes some, and we drove past quite a few distilleries on our travels. Grappa can be rancid, but at its best it's a sophisticated spirit with lots of attractive if potent grape aromas. I tasted a lovely Grappa di Arneis in a restaurant but the most memorable example was from Produttori di Barbaresco, made from the ubiquitous Nebbiolo and aged in oak; spicy and powerful, like peppery fire, this was yet another example of the range of expressions the Nebbiolo grape is capable of.

If you ever visit Barolo, go to the corkscrew museum, if only to see this two-sided corkscrew, on sale for €450

Often, spending a weekend intensely tasting just one style of wine leaves you yearning for something completely different. Tasting all these Nebbiolos had the opposite effect - I want to carry on tasting all the different styles of wine produced using just that one grape: the rich and powerful, the fragrant and elegant, the young and the old, the fruity and the oxidised, the fabulous and the supremely fabulous.

My impression of Piemonte was also quite different from what I had been expecting. Rather than fusty, traditional, and unwelcoming (yes, France, I'm thinking of you), attitudes among everyone I met were modern, friendly, and hugely enthusiastic. Although steeped in years of history and tradition, it's clear that both Barolo and Barbaresco are areas full of winemakers open to developments elsewhere, aware that they must adapt to maintain their high reputation, and above all very proud of their great wine. 

Go West!

American wine is wonderfully diverse and unpredictable - unsurprisingly, given it's made in each of the fifty states - but for most there's only one place that comes to mind when thinking of American wine: California. The state produces 90% of the country's wine, but this dominance can do both the state and the country a disservice. Stereotypes of Californian wine as big, bold, and fruity persist, overlooking the range of styles across the state, and the high quality wines coming from Washington and Oregon, and to a lesser degree New York and Virginia, get overlooked. This is why it was so exciting to see the very different states of California, Oregon, and Washington get together to offer a joint trade tasting in London - so exciting, in fact, that I travelled down to the unreal city itself to partake. Here is a selection of the wines I tasted.

California

two of the great Santa Barbara wineries: Au Bon Climat and Qupé

 

Au Bon Climat

The AVAs to the south of San Francisco in Santa Barbara County are quite different from the classical Californian regions to the north of the city. Although the first grapes were planted more than two hundred years ago, it's only in the last thirty years or so that serious wine has been made there. The area is cooled significantly by ocean winds and fogs - the nearer to the ocean, the cooler the region. This makes it ideal territory for the Burgundy grapes, Chardonnay and Pinot Noir.

Au Bon Climat's French name (it means "well-exposed vineyard") provides a clue about the style of wine: although these wines are true to California, they are hugely influenced by France and do the most to challenge preconceptions of Californian wine. The wines oscillate between Burgundian and Californian, so it was great to taste the wines back to back and directly compare the different expressions of Chardonnay and Pinot Noir (though I was disappointed the incomparable Hildegaard - a unique blend of Pinot Gris, Pinot Blanc, and Aligoté - was missing). The Wild Boy Chardonnay remains, despite its ludicrous label, my favourite high-quality affordable Chardonnay, but the two wines which stood out in this tasting were the Chardonnay and Pinot Noir from the Sanford & Benedict vineyard in Santa Rita AVA, the coolest of the area's regions. I'd love to taste these two wines blind alongside some Burgundy.

 

Seghesio

The day brought home to me just how good Zinfandel can be when made well with proper attention and the Zinfandels from Seghesio, based in Sonoma County with vineyards in Anderson and Russian River Valleys, may just have been the best of the show. The 2011 Sonoma Old Vine Zinfandel had an exceptional balance of oak and fruit, but I thought the 2011 Rockpile Zinfandel surpassed it for complexity. Rockpile is a new sub-AVA in northern Sonoma; to qualify for the AVA, vineyards must be higher than 800ft, free from the fog that doesn't rise above that level. It was interesting to learn of an AVA independent of, rather than dependent on, the state's famous fog. Unusually, Seghesio also produce wine from two Italian grapes: Arneis, a Piemonte white grape, and Sangiovese, the great Tuscan black grape. I've tasted the Arneis before and it's an excellent wine, though it takes a while to open up. The 2010 Anderson Valley Sangiovese is made from vines that are descended from plantings from the turn of the last century: Prohibition pretty much killed off plantings of the grape, so these vines are unique. The wine's expensive and I'm not sure it compares with Tuscan wines of the same price; at the same time, it was hard to fault. 

Oregon

Adelsheim are one of the oldest wineries in the state and their wines are finally tiptoeing their wine into the UK. The 2012 Willamette Valley Chardonnay is subtle and balanced, especially compared to some of the mammoth Californian Chardonnays I tasted. It's Pinot Noir that they specialise in, though; here I found myself preferring the less expensive wine - the grainy earthiness of the 2011 Willamette Valley over the lighter but more textured 2011 Elizabeth's Reserve.

Adelsheim

Perhaps the best white of the day was the Trisaetum 2012 Ribbon Ridge Riesling. Riesling's a grape which should do very well in Oregon but has never taken off: Pinot Noir dominates and perceptions in the States of Riesling are shaped by sweeter, inexpensive wines from Washington. This Riesling demonstrates exactly what the grape is capable of in Oregon in the right hands. 

Washington

Washington suffers from making wines of all levels of quality from far too many grapes. I also think that high-quality wineries have spent too long targeting the rest of the US market; an obvious target, but one which involves navigating the complex and prohibitive three-tier distribution system. The UK and Northern Europe markets are much more suitable areas for Washington to demonstrate its quality. 

For this reason, I was delighted to see Betz Family Winery at the trade show. One of many wineries unavailable in the UK, I'd wanted to visit them when I was in Seattle last September but they are closed to the public. Speaking to their new owner, Steve Griessel, in London, it was clear he had realised that Northern Europe presents a more profitable and accessible market than other US states (he was off to Sweden the next day). The wines, Cabernet Sauvignon and Syrah based, are expensive but worth the price and I'm looking forward to seeing them in the UK. 

Washington red wines at their best can be characterised as being European in style but with fuller fruit flavours, quite different from their Californian equivalents. This is true of the Betz wines and also of one my favourite wineries anywhere, Andrew Will. The 2010 Two Blondes is an exceptional wine, full of fruit flavours but backed up with real structure. 2010 was a cool year and the wine is just 12.8%; drinking well now, it's still got a few years left in it. Two Blondes is a vineyard which winemaker Chris Camarda planted in 2000 and the wines are proving extremely popular. I wonder if they're replacing in importance the wines from the Ciel du Cheval vineyard; still a very good wine, the 2009 didn't have the immediacy of the Two Blondes nor the sophistication of Sorella from the same vintage. Always Cabernet Sauvignon heavy and always serious, the 2009 expression of Sorella is just beginning to open up and has ten to fifteen years left in it at the very least. From the best vineyard for Cabernet in the state (Champoux), if you wonder whether Washington wine can compete with Bordeaux or, for that matter, Napa Valley, then here's your answer.

Diploma Exams

I'm just two months into the Diploma and I've done three exams already. There's been some intense studying going on and it's a relief I can finally sit down with a glass of wine (Pieropan Ruberpan Valpolicella, since you're asking) and relax. Our next exam isn't till June, so I'm not sure why the WSET have found it necessary to cram these three very different exams into such a short period of time. Anyway, here's how they went...

Wine Production

The Diploma starts, obviously, with Unit 2 (out of 6), which focuses on all the technical stuff - what happens in the vineyard and the winery - the building blocks to everything we go on to study about wine. We took this exam in February and I wrote about it then. I passed with distinction, which I won't be doing for these next two exams.

Sparkling Wine

The next exam was Unit 5, on sparkling wine, which we had to study in conjunction with Unit 4, spirits. It was hard studying these two completely different and equally vast topics together. The amount of information we had to process, let alone the amount of drinks we needed to try, in just the space of a month, was at times overwhelming - not forgetting that we have other things to do in our lives as well. I was helped by going to a series of trade tastings where I sampled all the sparkling wine I could and by a blind tasting of nine spirits very kindly arranged by Sam of Manchester House. All that work doesn't quite prepare you for the pressure of the exam itself, though.

Both the sparkling and spirits exams are in the same format: three drinks to taste blind and three subjects you to have write a paragraph on. The exam's 65 minutes, so you have roughly just ten minutes for each drink and question. I decided beforehand to tackle the written answers first to get the factual information out of the way and, for the sparkling wines, to allow the wines to warm up and the aromas to become more apparent.

That cunning plan fell to pieces with the first question, which caused a wave of panic to rush through me as I read it. "CM (Coopérative-Manipulant)" was all it said. First question I asked myself as I fought off the panic: what's a Coopérative-Manipulant? Second question: even if I remember what one is, how do I dredge up enough information to write an answer? (Each question is worth twenty-five points, so you pretty much need to say twenty-five things.) Third, and final question, How and why would the examiners ask this question? A bad day at the office that they decided to take out on the whole world of Diploma students?

After the exam, we all clustered together to work out how we should, or could, have answered that question. First off, we reached for our study guides to see what it said about Coopérative-Manipulant. Here's what we found:

That's it, and half of that definition was the question. However, the WSET advise that we read other material to deepen our knowledge so when I got home I looked at the recommended further reading, Christie's World Encyclopedia of Sparkling Wine. This book is exhaustive and here's what it says:

Slightly more helpful, but that's not the only book I've got for further reading. We got sent a copy of the Oxford Companion to Wine with our study materials, and this is our go-to book. It did expand on the above entries a little.

Even with these books to hand, I'd be hard pressed to write a detailed answer and in exam conditions it was an arduous task requiring some imagination. What was particularly frustrating was its close emphasis on a term from a traditional wine-making area, rather than stretching out to newer areas. I was all prepared to write about Argentina (Moët & Chandon are just about to release their first Argentinian wine in the UK - one of a million facts I never got to use) or the issues around quality New Zealand sparkling wine reaching the market it deserves, but here I was blagging about two letters that sometimes appear on a bottle of Champagne.

My mood wasn't improved by the next question - "Saumur." That fashionable, high-quality, commercially important Loire Valley sparkling appellation. Oh, is that a question about France again? I was ready to answer a question about the Loire, but didn't think they'd ask about a specific appellation because they're not important enough. Wrong.

After the very specific and then the specific, came the massively broad - "Black Grapes," a subject I could have spent the whole exam writing about. I seem to have taken a different approach to answering the question than my fellow students, writing in detail about Pinot Noir and Meunier, the two black Champagne grapes, with a passing reference to Sparkling Shiraz at the end, rather than writing about every black grape used in the production of sparkling wine (and there are a lot). The difficult thing here was knowing what information you were expected to produce in just ten minutes.

I then went on to tasting the three sparkling wines, which presented fewer problems. The first was Prosecco, but from the higher quality Prosecco Superiore DOCG; the second was a fairly standard Cava, from major producer Codorníu, with a hint of toastiness at the end the only indication that it had been aged on its lees; and the third a Californian Blanc de Blancs. We didn't have to specify where the wines were from - instead asked to come to a conclusion about the quality of the wine - but I was quite pleased I had been able to work out that the third wine, by far the best, was New World and not Champagne.

Spirits

I'm not that much of a spirits drinker, though I've become more interested in them over the course of the last month, which is why I've been blogging about them incessantly. I think that's why I found the tasting (the practice) much more difficult than the written questions (the theory).

I again approached the written answers first, covering the spirits with a piece of paper in a vain attempt to mask the aromas emanating from the peaty whisky which I could smell from the other side of the room even before the bottle reached me. Before the exam, which took place a long three hours after the sparkling, a few of us joked about which obscure category would come up. So there were a few wry glances around the room when we all looked at the first question, "Cachaça," a subject we had guessed may appear as it's still not that well known but it is World Cup year. (Another relevant topic we also thought would come up was Jim Beam as it's been taken over by Suntory, a huge event in the world of spirits. It would also have given me a chance to write about Mila Kunis in an exam. Wrong again.) The second question was "conversion," probably the vaguest exam question I've ever faced. Most of my answer was about the conversion of insoluble starch into fermentable sugars in malted barley, which I hope is what the examiners were looking for. The third question was "Districts of Cognac." I read Nicholas Faith's book on Cognac last summer and answering this question was a process of distant recollection. Frustratingly, I could only remember five of the six regions (Bons Bois being the missing part). I then bluffed about soils as best I could.

For the tasting, we had to state where each spirit was from, what it was made of, what spirit it was, and how long it had been aged, all worth five marks out of the possible twenty-five. In short, get it wrong and you're screwed. The first spirit was water white and quite aromatic. At first, I smelt only tropical fruit flavours so concluded it was a white rum. But for the rest of the exam, something kept nagging me and I kept returning to it, desperately smelling it for enlightenment. I concluded it probably wasn't a white rum, but couldn't figure out what else it could be. It wasn't a vodka - too aromatic; it wasn't a tequila - no agave; it wasn't a grappa - not grapey or rancid enough; probably not a pisco - again, not grapey enough; not a Calvados - there was no age to it. There was nothing else it could be, so I reluctantly settled for white rum, knowing if that was wrong, all my tasting notes were wrong. It was pisco. Looking back, I'm not surprised that it was pisco, as it was so aromatic, but that's one tough spirit to spot. It was also one of the spirits we'd speculated, but feared, they'd ask us about.

The second spirit confused me too. It was amber coloured, with oaky aromas and dried fruits. It could either be a brandy or a rum, I thought, and I leant towards brandy because I could smell raisins and sultanas (from the grapes, I thought), because it wasn't dark enough to be a dark rum, and because I'd named the first spirit as a white rum. Answer: it wasn't dark enough to be a dark rum because it was a golden rum. From Jamaica's most famous producer, Appleton Estate, it was pretty good too.

The third spirit I barely needed to taste. Smell peat and write the tasting notes: peat, smoke, earth, smoked fish, seaweed, bonfire. After the problems of the first two spirits, I even felt confident enough to suggest it may come from Islay. The only confusing thing was its pale colour - it smelt rather than looked like a whisky. It was Ardbeg 10YO, which has a noticeably paler appearance than its neighbours Laphroaig and Lagavulin.

That tasting was one tough thirty minutes. I've done all the WSET courses and this is the first one that's focused in any detail on spirits. Not having being taught it thoroughly or consistently, the only way you could spot these three spirits with any confidence is by being a professional alcoholic. If I have to resit, that profession awaits.

Whiskey, not Whisky

All whiskies and whiskeys, whether Scottish, Irish, or American, hit a huge snag in the 1920s: Prohibition. Scotland dealt with this "inconvenient legality" by (hush-hush) co-operating with bootleggers smuggling from the Caribbean; Ireland didn't deal with it by refusing to co-operate with bootleggers; and it dealt American whiskey an almost fatal blow, which it hadn't really recovered from until the last twenty years. American whiskey is finally back again, its full-flavoured, slightly sweet style and range of base materials fitting in with the fashion for powerful single malts, but it's been a struggle.

a little history

Whiskey has been made in the States since the mid-eighteenth century; at first, the base material was rye, but corn was plentiful and affordable and became the core ingredient for most whiskeys. With the advent of railways, the nineteenth century saw whiskey grow commercially. There was only one thing holding American whiskey back: the temperance movement, which just happened to be strongest in the best whiskey-producing states. By 1915, twenty states were "dry"; whiskey production stopped completely on the US's entry into the First World War; and in 1920, Prohibition began. Were it not for Prohibition, it's easy to speculate that whiskey, and not whisky, would be the dominant style around the world.

After the repeal of Prohibition, the Second World War inconveniently got in the way; once things got back to normal in the 1950s, the American palate had forgotten how to appreciate the rich, full flavours of whiskey. So the rebirth of the American whiskey industry is relatively recent, in part fuelled by cocktails like the Manhattan, as well as the fashion for full-bodied drinks. On the back of the success of craft breweries, there are lots of interesting craft distilleries emerging with a whole new take on this great traditional drink. This is a fantastic time to discover American whiskey.

where's it made?

American whiskey, including bourbon, can be made anywhere in the States. The most important state is Kentucky, where the majority of bourbon is made. After that it's Tennessee, a state that's home both to many dry counties and the biggest-selling American whiskey, Jack Daniel's.

what is American whiskey?

The first word that comes to mind is bourbon, for which there are certain regulations. The most important is that it must be at least 51% corn, which gives bourbon its characteristic slight sweetness. A minimum of 51% gives a producer quite a bit of leeway when it comes to other grains. Rye gives the whiskey a spicy attack, which can be quite noticeable when the grain is used in large proportions. Less commonly, wheat is also used, giving round, bready flavours. Malted barley is another ingredient, though how much flavour it contributes to the whiskey is debated.

A rye or wheat whiskey can't be called bourbon, but it's still whiskey. Rye whiskey is where it all began, but it's only in the last few years, with its upfront spicy flavours, that it's made a comeback. Wheat whiskey is a fairly new and niche market, but its soft, doughy, bready flavours really mark it out. (Maker's Mark uses wheat instead of rye, and Bernheim Original is a good wheat whisky.)

Unlike Scotch, American whiskies are aged in new oak (usually American, though it's not a legal requirement), which have been charred. Oak barrels are created by firing the oak to bend the staves into shape: the story goes that one Elijah Craig accidentally over-toasted the oak but, despite the blackened wood, decided to use it for his barrels anyway. The resulting whiskey was extremely popular and charring the oak became standard practice. (No idea if this story is true; I was told it by the rep for Heaven Hill, who make a good whiskey called Elijah Craig.) This charred new oak gives the whiskey charcoal flavours, as well as sweet spices and tobacco.     

Another significant difference in maturation from Scotland is temperature. Unlike Scotland, the Deep South is hot, meaning the spirits age much quicker and integrate with the oak much more. This is why American whiskies are rarely aged as long as Scotch. Whiskeys are often aged on different levels of a warehouse - the higher the level, the warmer the temperature. Blending different barrels from different levels, or moving the barrels around, creates differences of style and complexity.

tasting

Jack Daniel's Old No.7 Sour Mash (Tennessee)

Like Smirnoff, Jack Daniel's is a drink that reminds me of university. I remember drinking it from a mug and having to pour more and more coke into it to make it drinkable. This is the first time I've tasted it since then, and to my surprise I didn't think it was too bad. Vanilla, coconut, and hot apple cider were my tasting notes.

Woodford Reserve (Kentucky)

Made by the owners of Jack Daniel's in a different distillery in Kentucky, this is a more complex whiskey, with floral, fruity, citrus, toasty, and smoky aromas. I didn't think it was quite as amazing as our tutor did, though...

Pikesville Supreme Straight Rye Whiskey (Kentucky)

This was a drink which made me want to get into an argument with our tutor (an argument which found its fruition in Cognac). He described the recent rise in popularity of rye whiskey as down to patriotic Americans drinking the great traditional whiskey to support the country in difficult economic times. If there's any truth to that, it's not enough to explain the resurgence in the production of rye whiskey which had almost disappeared by the 1990s. It's down to the gradual re-emergence of American whiskey in general, as well as the unique, expressive, spicy qualities of rye whiskey itself. Rye whiskey can be an expensive, keenly sought-after drink, which doesn't really fit into the all-American story either. Having said all of which, this was a fairly unmemorable example which the tutor admitted was the only rye whiskey he'd ever tasted.

Roughstock Whiskey (Montana)

I bought this for sentimental reasons, as @winebizkid is currently in Montana. It's not actually the best whiskey to practise tasting on, as it's made from malted barley, making it much closer to a Scotch than a bourbon. However, it's aged in new, charred oak, making it much closer to a bourbon than a Scotch. It's a big, spicy, fruity whiskey, with custard apple and toffee flavours, and dried flowers giving it a bit of a delicate edge. I found the alcohol slightly too aggressive, but there were lots of complex flavours to compensate for that. Like a lot of American whiskey, the bottle is impressively big.
 

Irish Whiskey

It's amazing that Irish whiskey still exists, given its history of incompetence. Scottish whisky found global success for two important reasons: they embraced the continuous still and allowed their whiskies to be smuggled into the States during Prohibition. In both cases, the Irish did the exact opposite. And then Eamon de Valera, the dominant figure in twentieth-century Irish politics who did his best to keep Ireland in the seventeenth century, capped exports and raised taxes on the country's whiskies.

There are only three major distilleries in Ireland, with another in the North. These use different methods of distilling, but the style favoured by Irish Distillers Ltd (in Midleton, near Cork) dominates (they make Jameson and Powers). It's triple-distilled and unpeated, which gives the whiskey a smooth easiness, especially compared to the more aggressive flavours of Scotch. Unmalted barley is used - varying from 20-60% - a use which dates back to the nineteenth century when malted barley was taxed. The use of oak has become more important too, adding complexity to the more expensive whiskeys. Bushmills in Antrim has some differences: also triple-distilled, but using malted barley. Cooley, back on the other side of the border, double-distills using pot stills and peat is sometimes used (e.g. Connemara 12YO); a continuous still is used to produce grain whiskey. These descriptions of the distilleries may not seem very evocative of place, but they are what gives Irish whiskey its different flavours.

I don't find Irish whiskey a particularly exciting category, but the industry is more vibrant than it's been since its heyday in the nineteenth century. The major labels are fast increasing their sales, particularly in the USA, while new, small distilleries are opening, creating individual whiskeys which go beyond the straightforward smoothness of the major names. It will probably take them a while to break into the market, but they're worth keeping an eye out for.

tasting

Jameson (Diploma tasting)

I find it hard to say anything interesting about this whiskey. As a smooth, simple drink, I used to like it, but compared to the rich, fuller spirits of Scotland and the US, there's little going on. There are floral and herbal notes, with a malty creaminess and a lightly spicy finish. I think that's overdescribing it, though.

Teeling (tasted in Madeira on a balmy February evening)

An example of a new Irish whiskey not coming from one of the established distilleries. I tasted this and thought, How can an Irish whiskey have tropical fruit aromas? The label had an easy answer: it's been aged in rum casks. The banana and mango are so smooth, as well as more Irish flavours of porridge and oats. If this is the future of Irish whiskey, I like it.