Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Wine

Yellow cartoucheWine is an alcoholic beverage, made of fermented fruit juice, usually from grapes.[1] The natural chemical balance of grapes lets them ferment without the addition of sugars, acids, enzymes, or other nutrients.[2] Grape wine is produced by fermenting crushed grapes using various types of yeast. Yeast consumes the sugars in the grapes and converts them into alcohol. Different varieties of grapes and strains of yeasts produce different types of wine.
Red cartoucheWines made from other fruits, such as apples and berries, are normally named after the fruit from which they are produced (for example, apple wine or elderberry wine) and are generically called fruit wine or country wine (not to be confused with the French term vin de pays). Others, such as barley wine and rice wine (i.e., sake), are made from starch-based materials and resemble beer and spirit more than wine, while ginger wine is fortified with brandy. In these cases, the term "wine" refers to the higher alcohol content rather than production process.[3] The commercial use of the English word "wine" (and its equivalent in other languages) is protected by law in many jurisdictions.[4]
Wine has a rich history dating back thousands of years, with the earliest known production occurring around 8,000 years ago on the territory of modern-day Georgia.[5][6] It first appeared in the Balkans at about 4500 BC and was very common in ancient Greece, Thrace and Rome. Wine has also played an important role in religion throughout history. The Greek god Dionysus and the Roman equivalent Bacchus represented wine, and the drink is also used in Christian Eucharist ceremonies and the Jewish Kiddush.

Etymology

The English word "wine" comes from the Proto-Germanic "*winam," an early borrowing from the Latin vinum, "wine" or "(grape) vine," itself derived from the Proto-Indo-European stem *win-o- (cf. Hittite: wiyana, Lycian: Oino, Ancient Greek οῖνος - oînos, Aeolic Greek ϝοίνος - woinos).[7][8]
The earliest attested terms referring to wine are the Mycenaean Greek me-tu-wo ne-wo meaning "the month of new wine" or "festival of the new wine" and wo-no-wa-ti-si meaning "wine garden", written in Linear B inscriptions.[9][10][11][12]
Although no clear evidence has been found of any linguistic connection, some scholars have noted the similarities between the words for wine in the Kartvelian (e.g. Georgian ღვინო ɣvino), Indo-European languages (e.g. Russian vino), and Semitic (*wayn), hinting to the possibility that this word diffused into all these language families from a common origin.[13] Some Georgian scholars have speculated that Georgian was the origin of this word and that it entered into the Indo-European languages via Semitic.[14]

History

Archaeological evidence suggests that the earliest known production of wine, made by fermenting grapes, took place as early as 8,000 years ago in Georgia[5] and 6,100 years ago in Armenia.[15][16][6] These locations are all within the natural area of the European grapevine Vitis vinifera.
Pressing wine after the harvest; Tacuinum Sanitatis, 14th century
Through an extensive gene-mapping project in 2006, Dr. McGovern and his colleagues analyzed the heritage of more than 110 modern grape cultivars, and narrowed their origin to a region in Georgia, where also wine residues were discovered on the inner surfaces of 8,000-year-old ceramic storage jars in Shulavari, Georgia.[17]Other notable areas of wine production have been discovered in Greece and date back to 4500 BC.[18][19][20][16] The same sites also contain the world's earliest evidence of crushed grapes.[18] On January 11, 2011 in one of Armenia's Vayots Dzor province cave was found a wine making press dating to approximately 6,000 years ago.[20][16][21] Literary references to wine are abundant in Homer (9th century BC, but possibly composed even earlier), Alkman (7th century BC), and others. In Ancient Egypt, six of 36 wine amphoras were found in the tomb of King Tutankhamun bearing the name "Kha'y", a royal chief vintner. Five of these amphoras were designated as from the King's personal estate with the sixth listed as from the estate of the royal house of Aten.[22] Traces of wine have also been found in central Asian Xinjiang, dating from the second and first millennia BC.[23]
Viticulture in India has a long history dating back to the time of the Indus Valley civilization when grapevines were believed to have been introduced from Persia sometime in the 5000 BC.[citation needed] The first known mentioning of grape-based wines was in the late 4th century BC writings of Chanakya who was the chief minister of Emperor Chandragupta Maurya. In his writings, Chanakya condemns the use of alcohol while chronicling the emperor and his court's frequent indulgence of a style of grape wine known as Madhu.[24]
A 2003 report by archaeologists indicates a possibility that grapes were mixed with rice to produce mixed fermented beverages in China in the early years of the seventh millennium BC. Pottery jars from the Neolithic site of Jiahu, Henan contained traces of tartaric acid and other organic compounds commonly found in wine. However, other fruits indigenous to the region, such as hawthorn, cannot be ruled out.[25][26] If these beverages, which seem to be the precursors of rice wine, included grapes rather than other fruits, these grapes were of any of the several dozen indigenous wild species of grape in China, rather than from Vitis vinifera, which were introduced into China some 6000 years later.[25]
One of the lasting legacies of the ancient Roman Empire was the viticulture foundation the Romans laid in the lands that today are world renowned wine regions. Areas with Roman garrison towns, like Bordeaux, Trier, and Colchester, the Romans planted vineyards to supply local needs and limit the cost of long distance trading.[27] In medieval Europe, the Roman Catholic Church staunchly supported wine, since they required it for the Mass. Monks in France made wine for years, aging it in caves.[28] An old English recipe that survived in various forms until the 19th century calls for refining white wine from bastard—bad or tainted bastardo wine.[29]

Grape varieties

Wine is usually made from one or more varieties of the European species Vitis vinifera, such as Pinot Noir, Chardonnay, Cabernet Sauvignon, Gamay and Merlot. When one of these varieties is used as the predominant grape (usually defined by law as a minimum of 75% or 85%), the result is a varietal, as opposed to a blended, wine. Blended wines are not necessarily considered inferior to varietal wines; some of the world's most expensive wines, from regions like Bordeaux and the Rhone Valley, are blended from different grape varieties of the same vintage.[citation needed]
Wine can also be made from other species of grape or from hybrids, created by the genetic crossing of two species. Vitis labrusca (of which the Concord grape is a cultivar), Vitis aestivalis, Vitis rupestris, Vitis rotundifolia and Vitis riparia are native North American grapes usually grown to eat fresh or for grape juice, jam, or jelly, but sometimes made into wine.
Hybridization is different from grafting. Most of the world's vineyards are planted with European V. vinifera vines that have been grafted onto North American species rootstock. This is common practice because North American grape species are resistant to phylloxera, a root louse that eventually kills the vine. In the late 19th century, most of Europe's vineyards (only excluding some of the driest vineyards in Southern Europe) were devastated by the bug, leading to massive vine deaths and eventual replanting. Grafting is done in every wine-producing country of the world except for Argentina, the Canary Islands and Chile—the only countries not yet exposed to the insect.[30]
In the context of wine production, terroir is a concept that encompasses the varieties of grapes used, elevation and shape of the vineyard, type and chemistry of soil, climate and seasonal conditions, and the local yeast cultures. The range of possibilities here can result in great differences between wines, influencing the fermentation, finishing, and aging processes as well. Many wineries use growing and production methods that preserve or accentuate the aroma and taste influences of their unique terroir.[31] However, flavor differences are not desirable for producers of mass-market table wine or other cheaper wines, where consistency is more important. Such producers try to minimize differences in sources of grapes through production techniques such as micro-oxygenation, tannin filtration, cross-flow filtration, thin film evaporation, and spinning cones.[32]

Classification


Regulations govern the classification and sale of wine in many regions of the world. European wines tend to be classified by region (e.g. Bordeaux, Rioja and Chianti), while non-European wines are most often classified by grape (e.g. Pinot Noir and Merlot). More and more, however, market recognition of particular regions is leading to their increased prominence on non-European wine labels. Examples of non-European recognized locales include Napa Valley in California, Willamette Valley in Oregon, Columbia Valley in Washington, Barossa Valley and Hunter Valley in Australia, Central Valley in Chile, Vale dos Vinhedos in Brazil, Hawke's Bay and Marlborough in New Zealand, Okanagan Valley and Niagara Peninsula in Canada.
Some blended wine names are marketing terms, and the use of these names is governed by trademark law rather than by specific wine laws. For example, Meritage (sounds like "heritage") is generally a Bordeaux-style blend of Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot, and may also include Cabernet Franc, Petit Verdot, and Malbec. Commercial use of the term "Meritage" is allowed only via licensing agreements with an organization called the "Meritage Association".

European classifications

France has various appellation systems based on the concept of terroir, with classifications ranging from Vin de Table ("table wine") at the bottom, through Vin de Pays and Appellation d'Origine Vin Délimité de Qualité Supérieure (AOVDQS) up to Appellation d'Origine Contrôlée (AOC) or similar, depending on the region.[33][34] Portugal has something similar and, in fact, pioneered this technique in 1756 with a royal charter that created the "Demarcated Douro Region" and regulated wine production and trade.[35] Germany did likewise in 2002, although their system has not yet achieved the authority of those of the other countries'.[36][37] Spain, Greece and Italy have classifications based on a dual system of region of origin and product quality.[38]

Beyond Europe

New World wine—wines from outside of the traditional wine growing regions of Europe tend to be classified by grape rather than by terroir or region of origin, although there have been non-official attempts to classify them by quality.[39][40]

Vintages

A "vintage wine" is one made from grapes that were all or mostly grown in a particular year, and labeled as such. Most countries allow a vintage wine to include a portion that is not from the labeled vintage. Variations in a wine's character from year to year can include subtle differences in color, palate, nose, body and development. High-quality wines can improve in flavor with age if properly stored.[1] Consequently, it is not uncommon for wine enthusiasts and traders to save bottles of an especially good vintage wine for future consumption.
In the United States, for a wine to be vintage dated and labeled with a country of origin or American Viticultural Area (AVA) (such as "Sonoma Valley"), it must contain at least 95% of its volume from grapes harvested in that year.[41] If a wine is not labeled with a country of origin or AVA the percentage requirement is lowered to 85%.[41]
Vintage wines are generally bottled in a single batch so that each bottle will have a similar taste. Climate can have a big impact on the character of a wine to the extent that different vintages from the same vineyard can vary dramatically in flavor and quality.[42] Thus, vintage wines are produced to be individually characteristic of the vintage and to serve as the flagship wines of the producer. Superior vintages, from reputable producers and regions, will often fetch much higher prices than their average vintages. Some vintage wines, like Brunellos, are only made in better-than-average years.
For consistency, non-vintage wines can be blended from more than one vintage, which helps wine makers sustain a reliable market image and maintain sales even in bad years.[43][44] One recent study suggests that for normal drinkers, vintage year may not be as significant to perceived wine quality as currently thought, although wine connoisseurs continue to place great importance on it.[45]

Tasting


Wine tasting is the sensory examination and evaluation of wine. Wines are made up of chemical compounds similar or identical to those in fruits, vegetables, and spices. The sweetness of wine is determined by the amount of residual sugar in the wine after fermentation, relative to the acidity present in the wine. Dry wine, for example, has only a small amount of residual sugar.
Individual flavors may also be detected, due to the complex mix of organic molecules such as esters and terpenes that grape juice and wine can contain. Experienced tasters can distinguish between flavors characteristic of a specific grape and flavors that result from other factors in wine making. Typical intentional flavor elements in wine are those imparted by aging in oak casks; chocolate, vanilla, or coffee almost always come from the oak and not the grape itself.[46]
Banana flavors (isoamyl acetate) are the product of yeast metabolism, as are spoilage aromas such as sweaty, barnyard, band-aid (4-ethylphenol and 4-ethylguaiacol),[47] and rotten egg (hydrogen sulfide).[48] Some varietals can also have a mineral flavor due to the presence of water-soluble salts (like limestone).
Wine aroma comes from volatile compounds in the wine that are released into the air.[49] Vaporization of these compounds can be sped up by twirling the wine glass or serving the wine at room temperature. For red wines that are already highly aromatic, like Chinon and Beaujolais, many people prefer them chilled.[50]

Collecting

Outstanding vintages from the best vineyards may sell for thousands of dollars per bottle, though the broader term fine wine covers bottles typically retailing at over about US$30–50.[51] "Investment wines" are considered by some to be Veblen goods—that is, goods for which demand increases instead of decreases as its price rises. The most common wines purchased for investment include those from Bordeaux, Burgundy, cult wines from Europe and elsewhere, and Vintage port. Characteristics of highly collectible wines include:
  1. A proven track record of holding well over time
  2. A drinking window plateau (i.e., the period for maturity and approachability) that is many years long
  3. A consensus amongst experts as to the quality of the wines
  4. Rigorous production methods at every stage, including grape selection and appropriate barrel-aging
Investment in fine wine has attracted fraudsters who prey on their victims' ignorance of this sector of the wine market.[citation needed] Wine fraudsters often work by charging excessively high prices for off-vintage or lower-status wines from famous wine regions, while claiming that they are offering a sound investment unaffected by economic cycles.[citation needed]Like any investment, proper research is essential before investing.

Monday, May 16, 2011

Lucien Albrecht Weid Pinot noir 2004

Alsace, France. Pinot noir. 13%. Cork (mostly stained). Approx $A50-70 (lost receipt).

I have been tasting wine, though perhaps with less focus and attention than usual. Presumably this is a comma rather than a full stop. . . In the last 36 hours, three stand out bottles, the 06 Bindi Original - has improved - it is caressing and rich and certainly more adolescent than middle aged. The 02 Grosset Polish Hill is glorious and if possible it seems to have intensified. Finally a Pinot from Alsace, which in far away Perth at least, is still an oddity.

Lovely. A satisfying combination of savouriness and structure. Stalk and stem on the nose, paired with spice and earth, while in the mouth it is sappy, well paced and tight before eventually unfurling. 92. Now - 2014+

Dada 1 2007

New Zealand. White Blend (Sauvignon blanc, Gewürztraminer, Viognier). 14%. Diam. Approx $A65.

If you build it, they will come.

I had not particular preconceptions, the label certainly gives little away. . . an obsessive idea which has become quite a delicious and exemplary wine. Pale and pert, this is wonderfully clean, fresh and evocative. Musk and grape skin, grass, gooseberry and flint. It smells of Sauvignon, but not clearly from this hemisphere. . . Lean and tight, green apple freshness, but cut with stones and mineral and something fleshy and formidable. A wonderful wine. I wish I had more. . . 93-95. Now - 2013 +

A broccolini salad

An improvised salad, based on the premise that pancetta, broad beans and feta make a lovely Ménage à trois.

Ingredients:
  • 12 thin slices of pancetta
  • 3 slices of prosciutto
  • 2 small bunches of brococolini - ends trimmed and peeled if desired
  • 500g bag of frozen broad beans (it is Autumn)
  • 2 small handfuls of baby chard leaves
  • 1 bunch of mint
  • small handful of parsley
  • 100g of feta - diced (5mm cubes) or crumbled
  • olive oil
  • 1 lemon
How?

(1) Fry the pancetta and prosciutto in a pan with a splash of olive oil. You could of course use either on its own. When suitably crisp, set aside. (2) Bring a large pot of water to the boil and add the broccolini and a tablespoon of salt. Boil and cook for a few minutes, no more, removing the florets and refreshing in cold water, before setting aside in a large bowl and tossing with olive oil and a squeeze of lemon juice. (3) To the same pot of boiling water (once the broccolini has been removed) add the frozen broad beans and after 1-2 minutes, strain and remove, before once again refreshing under cold water. Remove the beans from their grey/white pods and place the podded beans in the same bowl as the broccolini. (4) Take a handful of the larger mint leaves and pound in a mortar and pestle. Once bruised and crushed, add the juice of half a lemon and a similar amount of olive oil. Add two thirds of this to the resting broad beans and broccolini and toss. (5) Now construct the salad. Layer the chard, the cooked and dressed vegetables, some feta and crumble some of the pancetta. Repeat as needed and the dress with the smaller mint leaves, the parsley and sprinkle with the remains of the mint / lemon dressing.

Caudalie

I toyed with the idea, of keeping this image for a suitably austere, pinpoint and intense young Riesling. It's a cliché I've mostly avoided, though I can see the appeal. The word laser seems to capture and indicate something modern, undiluted, focused and linear.

I suspect opponents of the 100 point scale and wine scores in general, will not like the notion of caudalie. As most doctors and Latin buffs will tell you, cauda means tail. The caudalie is the unit for measurement of aftertaste. 1 cadualie = 1 second of aftertaste. Even for an inhabitant of Nerdistan, it seems superfluous and overly prone to inter and intra-observer variability.

Lucy Margaux Little Creek Pinot noir 2010

Adelaide Hills, South Australia. Pinot noir. 13.8%. Diam. Approx $A40

Of the three I've tried from this stable, this is the one for me. Though it seems the beauty is greatest on opening and by nights end it is less flattering and more utilitarian.

Strawberry and plum, spiced oak, earth and much latter, rubber and stalk. Wonderful texture and layered complexity. Filmy and slippery, the acid is better balanced and this is curved instead of angular. The tannins are multifaceted - at times malt like and then inky and spiced, they define rather than rule. A momentarily gorgeous wine. 92. Now - 2012.

Redemption

You would not expect Peter Lloyd's book to give a glowing account of Singapore. Working for the ABC and then getting arrested and convicted for drug use and then spending 6 months in a Singapore prison, tends to give you a jaundiced view of things. What it successfully does, with it's staccato chapters, cutting back and forth through various SE Asian tragedies, court hearings, counseling sessions and personal dramas, is create a sense of his personal chaos, followed eventually by peace and redemption. My initial ambivalence towards him, had by books end become respect.

Two quotes, the second a composite from pages 261 and 287:

That verbal tick again - lah. Singaporeans append lah to statements and sentences out of habit, with no form of rules for when and where it appears. Lah is to language what the appendix is the the human body - functionally redundant and occasionally irritating.


and

Singapore's laws have not been kind to me, but the penal system, at least, is a more forgiving place where I am safe and secure and oddly entertained. . . Of my material possessions, I have missed the sum total of nothing. Not the perpetual logging on and checking of emails. . . Instead I indulged a guilty pleasure called reading, devouring nearly eighty books in those two hundred days.

Dr Mayer Remstal Kabinett Trocken 2009

Remstal, Germany. Riesling. 12.5%. Vino-lok. Approx $A44.

Though I had hoped for more, I still find that without much effort, most of the bottle has disappeared. It seemed slightly thin and dilute to begin, though there is still a notable imprint of stone and mineral. Lime cordial, grape skins and fennel complete the olfactory tale. Spiced and stony, what it seems to lack in precision and intensity is made up for by its grip and Gewürz like phenolics. 90. Now - 2015.

A paint swatch wine tasting note

I think about wine more than I should. So while looking for super glue in my local hardware store my eye was drawn to the paint swatches. Though I could not find a swatch called Riesling, there were enough clichéd components to form a tasting note.

Domaine Lucci Pinot noir 2010

Adelaide Hills, South Australian. Pinot noir. 13.8%. Diam. Approx $A28

Bright, sappy and svelte. Smelling of strawberry, stems and spice, this is savoury, juicy and quite sculptured. It's anxious, a touch short and overly pert and acidic - a mouthful of crushed raspberries - unbalanced and acute, though for an entry level wine, I found the angles and hardness acceptable. 88. Now - 2014.

Kracher Trockenbeerenauslese NV

Austria. Screwcap (Saranex liner). 187ml bottle, with a tartrate crystal at the bottom. Approx $A30.

I've previously confessed my love for small bottles, but I'm not blind to their potential problems. Such as deciding very late at night that such a little thing can do no harm, and then over chilling it in the freezer, so that it starts tasting unfocused and metallic. It transfigures with warmth and presumably for those with more sense and warmer freezers or better timing, it will sing from the beginning. Pale orange, I can't help but smell marmalade and cotton candy, though later acacia, botrytis and the reassuring scent of freshly washed woolens. Before it warms it's like drinking water flavoured with burnt toffee, or a spoon of maltose, it seems to be missing a sting. In time it rewards and gains more texture, depth and appeal, though by bottle's end, I still get the sense that it could be more shapely and defined. 89-90. Now.

Four recent meals

Hawkers Cuisine in Northbridge may just be Perth's most blogged about Chinese restaurant. There's much to like. It's busy, noisy and there's a constant queue waiting to get in. Judging by my post meal fuzziness, they use as much MSG as any other local Chinese restaurant. The pictured marmite chicken is good in small doses and the deep fried soft shelled crab is worthwhile.

Just Bar (Preston St, Como) is one of Perth's innumerable tapas bars. The menu appears to have nothing over $20 per plate and I left pleased and impressed. I suspect the menu changes frequently, but for what it's worth I loved the chorizo with cuttlefish. There's a flair and extravagance - the lamb chop comes with a slice of foie gras and the succulent 2 inch cube of pork belly is surrounded by licorice sand. Quibbles - my panna cotta was far too firm. Just Bar on Urbanspoon

Pata Negra (Stirling Hwy, Nedlands) shows flashes of genius. The arroz negra is perhaps the best thing I've eaten all year. A superb crust and wonderfully evocative flavours. I also liked the smoky eggplant pie and the king fish ceviche. The suckling pig is not cheap at $50, but it is well executed and certainly much better than the rather ordinary confit duck, chorizo and white beans. The waiters were all clad in checkered flannel shirts and judging by the serving plates and the unmatched water glasses, I suspect they (and East Perth's - Toast) have cornered the local bric-a-brac market. Pata Negra on Urbanspoon

Toast (East Perth) could do with some proper water glasses and freshly printed menus. It seems unreasonable to expect paying patrons to drink from children's plastic cups from Ikea. . . Still the food is redeemingly adequate and I'd have no trouble recommending the potato, mint and feta pancakes.

Harkham Winery Chardonnay 2010

Hunter Valley, New South Wales, Australia. Chardonnay. 14%. Diam. Approx $A30

I don't drink much one year old Chardonnay and even fewer preservative free wines, so it's not so easy to contextualise this wine. Despite the lack of preservatives, there seems to be no lack of wine making tricks. Butterscotch and peach, this seems quite fleshy and almost nougat like. It's bright, mineral and abundant. A large frame with no corset. 86. Now - 2012.

Pork hock with star anise

It seems wherever I look I find references to bak kut teh. Meat bone tea. . . Introduced first to Singapore by the Chinese coolies at the turn of the 19th century, it soon found its ways to Malaysia and beyond. Picking up regional and ethnic variations along the way.

This is my first kitchen encounter with it, and this iteration comes from Street Food, though I've made some modifications to cooking time and have used brown sugar instead of palm. It's a simple dish, with cheap ingredients, but like many dishes with humble origins, it is full of comfort.

How? In a mortar and pestle pound 4 coriander roots (cleaned and sliced), a pinch of salt, 4 cloves of peeled garlic and 10 white peppercorns. Fry this paste in a large pan (with 2 tablespoons of oil). To this add 1 tablespoon of 5 spice powder and 2 tablespoons of brown sugar. Stir for a minute of so, then add 3 tablespoons of fish sauce and 4 cups of chicken stock and 2 cups of water. Now add the pork hock. Mine was sliced and weighed 850g. Add more water or stock, if needed to cover the meat. Bring to the boil, cover and simmer for 90 minutes. Turn the heat off, add a piece of bruised ginger and two tablespoons of oyster sauce. Leave covered for at least a few hours more, to allow the meat and connective tissues to soften further. Just before eating, remove the pork from the soup, remove and shred the meat and set aside. Now briefly blanch the leaves of some kai-lan and add to the pork meat. Dress with some fresh coriander leaves and then ladle some reheated soup over this prior to serving. For extra punch make a sauce - sour and hot.

Dipping sauce - not unlike a Nước chấm. Pound 1 deseeded red chili with a pinch of salt, 2 cloves of garlic and a small slice of ginger. Then add to 1/3 cup of white vinegar and stir.

From the pictured book: The body of Alan Lee was at the Kuala Lumpur General Hospital morgue. The reason that he remained in the morgue a month after his death was due to the dispute between the State Islamic Council and Alan Lee's mother, both of whom claimed the body. The disagreement was over whether Alan Lee should be buried according to Moslem or Buddhist rites. The Council insisted that Alan Lee had converted to Islam shortly before his death. They had records of his official conversion. His mother said that was not possible. She had cooked him his favourite meal the week before he died - bak kut teh, a pork belly soup. . .

Jayer-Gillies haute Côtes de Beaune 1999

Beaune, Burgundy, France. Pinot noir. Cork.

Like a smelly man, whose odour lingers long after leaving a room, this wine is almost gone, what remains seems unflattering and overly acetic. Purchased recently, I wonder if this is a representative bottle. . .

Mayer Pinot noir 2010

Yarra Valley, Victoria, Australia. Pinot noir. 13.5%. Diam. Approx $A50

There's a growing trend to release red wines earlier and earlier. Presumably it helps with cash flow and reduces inventories, but it also means the inpatient and curious drinker, like me, will drink the wines a few years ahead of their prime.

As you would expect from a young wine, it evolves and improves with air and time. It seems quite similar to the 2006, but perhaps it is marginally more spiced and zippy. Rose petal and perfume, the prettiness is marred by the sappiness and earth, which seems unsettled and prematurely disturbed. Rosewood and stems, and a suggestion of flint and reduction. Rounded and fleshy in the mouth, it seems too zippy and rushed to begin. . . the pace does settles, but in shape, this remains a bit of a tadpole wine. 90. 2012 - 2015

Guidebooks

Whilst reading The Singapore School of Villainy, I came across the term kiasu. A fear of missing out. It's a powerful motivator. Presumably it's why people line up to buy into the latest fad. . . it's also what drives me to read guide books. . . I travel so infrequently, I want to know everything about my prospective destination before hand. Baden-Powell would be proud. . .

Though the Inspector Singh books are more about the short, fat, sweaty and hirsute Sikh Inspector, with his fondness for cigarettes, sweet coffee and chappati, they are also about place. More than the various travel books I have read, Shamini Flint's 3rd book, manages to give Singapore a coat of grime and interest.

I've had The Flavour Thesaurus for only a few days, but already it seems indispensable. My young daughter is a fan, having located a simple eight line recipe for lemonade. There's a single illustration - which is repeated on the cover and twice within. A wheel classifying foods by their salient flavour. It sets the tone and challenges you to think. The short entries provides cogent explanation and refreshingly stripped down recipes and instruction. Freed from images, the text shines, with its balance, clarity and context (scientific, historic and gastronomic).

Bonny Doon Le Pousseur Syrah 2006

Central Coast, California, USA. Shiraz. 13.5%. Screwcap. Approx $A44

Perfumed and cuddly to begin, the nose is woolly and diffuse, a suggestion of animal and hide, spiced oak and something stem like and reminiscent of tea leaves. A sweet core, making this quite approachable. The label mentions that tannins are added and oak chips are used in addition to the the French oak barrels. The finish is quite assertive, abrupt and adhesive. My first thought was sticking plaster, though perhaps the more generous might call it tea like. As an Australian, paying $A44, this seem generic and particularly poor value

A change of scene

I periodically toy with the idea of changing the format of the blog, procrastination and an obsessive personality usually mean nothing happens. Pleasing then to see that blogger has allowed the reader to change and pick the format they like the most themselves.

La Violetta 'La Ciornia' Shiraz 2008

Great Southern, Western Australia. Shiraz, Viognier 2%. 14%. Screwcap. Approx $A60

Though I would have seen the 2009 review by Jamie Goode, my first, formed recollection is from September 2010. Since then an unfulfilled yearning. . . Until last week.

If you are a hard core wino, you will know the satisfaction of eventually finding a sought after bottle. It must be one of the early and surest signs of vinous insanity. That laborious and often unrewarding search for an esoteric bottle, the search that makes no sense to individuals sane or alcoholic.

A fleeting note of ripe blackcurrant (? DMS) before a more expected and persistent blackberry, an enticing fog of spice and pepper and a whiff of leather. Wonderful acidity and to start this seems quite lean and muscular in the mouth. A peppered steak. . . First impression, of course, are often misleading, and in time a sweet core emerges. For a moment it reminds me of the Clonakilla Syrah. That silky but firm palate which by nights end has shifted shape to show more cream and softness. Delicious. 93-95. Now - 2014.

Buying wine from Winosapien

Can you buy wine from winosapien? No.*
Is winosapien on Twitter? No.**
Is winosapien on Facebook? No!

There is however an internet doppelgänger who is seeking to fill these gaps. I write now to stress that I have no involvement in any of this. It's not me. . .

I recently discovered that some entity has decided to set up an internet wine retail business, called winosapien. There's nothing on the website, only a link to an unfollowed twitter account (not me) and a similarly lonely facebook account.

I harbour no malice. Perhaps the retailer will be superb, offering vinous esoteria. I did however want to point out, that giving your new and unheralded business the same name as an existing internet site, over which you have no control, is fraught with potentially unforeseen complications.

I hope for instance that my readers will be far less confused than any prospective customers of the proposed winosapien retail site, which is currently nothing more than a counting clock. . .

* I'd never want to sell any of the the wines I really liked.
** Though several sources helpfully tweet the arrival of new wino sapien blog posts.

I Giusti & Zanza Perbruno 2006

Toscana, Italy. Shiraz. 14%. Cork. Approx $A50

A beautiful label - three wings and the words Ali per non cadere. Wings to stay high.

Dark and deep. Tasted blind, I think I would have trouble calling this anything but West Australian. . . Berries (Mulberry and blue), ink, chocolate, earth and a fleeting suggestion of wax and lavender. Spice cut with glue. . . Brisk and grainy, a hint of initial sweetness to offset the eventual austerity. Chewy, mocha flavoured tannins, this is competent and pleasing, but I had hoped for more. 90. Now - 2016.

Judging a wine by its label

I've declared my hand before, I'm a sucker for an eye catching label. I've managed to resist critters, but it seems I've a soft spot for monsters. The implicit message on this bottle, where the monster bears a striking resemblance to Julia Donaldon's Gruffalo, is that it will be large, lumbering and perhaps a touch sweet and over extracted. The more generous might call it a BBQ wine, as if the clumsiness will be forgiven if it is eaten with charred and overcooked meat.

Lucy Margaux Jim's Pinot noir 2010

Lucy Margaux Jim's Pinot noir 2010Uraidla Valley, Adelaide Hills, South Australia. Pinot noir. 13.8%. Diam. Approx $A45

Quite delicious but also idiosyncratic and challenging. Unfiltered and unfined there's a glorious murkiness to the eye. It's richly scented, though the olfactory signature changes and reforms as the night proceeds. It's pretty and floral with crushed strawberries to begin, but later it seems more spiced, earthy and stem laden. Slightly sweet and metallic, the emphasis is forward and the impression is of something globular, concentrated and savoury. Once again spice (ginger and white pepper), zip, mineral and char. It's layered and complex, expansive and a touch warm. Fascinating.

The Emperor's new clothes?

As Max Allen highlighted in his recent book, one of the interesting things happening in Australian wine is the emergence of a new breed of maker whose actions are informed more by terroir and biodynamics than formula and intervention. It's hard not to get swept along by the enthusiasm and beautiful labels. Though the skeptic in me wonders if the newness and hype is masking any vinous shortcomings, my inner child is already impatiently fondling and inspecting the bottle making plans for consumption.

Felton Road Calvert Pinot noir 2008

Central Otago, New Zealand. Pinot noir. 14%. Screwcap. Approx $A85.

I've consciously avoided the term funky, I find it too imprecise and annoying, but as I sniff, it's the term that first comes to mind. . . That certain depth and sexuality that seems inextricably linked with the grape. A symphony of scent made up of earth, mushrooms, truffle, spice and a good measure of skid marks. . . Meaningless words for something quite alluring and pretty. Forward and fleshy, full of richness, extract and sweetness. The polar opposite to Burgundy in shape, but still sharing a core of seduction and velvet. With time even the tannins, with their coating of char and sap, soften and integrate. How can something so wrong feel so good? 92. Now - 2016.

Bean curd and seaweed soup

Like a fellow Perth blogger, I spent the afternoon steeping a chicken with the intention of making Chicken rice and soup. Though I had David Thompson's Street Food as a source of reference and inspiration, it was not an entirely successful meal, my stock seemed and little thin, unsalted and insipid and consequently the rice seemed to lack some punch. Still I'll record what I did with the soup and rice for my own future reference. . .

Soup.

  • 6 cups of chicken stock (I used the liquid left over from steeping a chicken)
  • 2 tablespoons of soy sauce
  • 1 large square of fresh, soft tofu. Approx 200g - cut into 1 inch cubes
  • 1 disk of dried seaweed - approx 25g - broken up and rinsed to remove sand and grit
  • Spring onion and coriander leaves to dress
Dumplings.
  • 150g minced pork
  • 2 tablespoons of soy sauce
  • White pepper and a pinch of sugar
How?

Make the meatballs first by combining the pork, soy sauce, pepper and sugar in a bowl. Mix well by hand and the set aside.

Heat the stock and when boiling break up the meat mixture into small balls and add to the stock. Then add the beancurd, seaweed and additional soy sauce. Let simmer for a few minutes and then remove from the heat. Taste and correct flavours if needed and then add the spring onion and coriander before serving.

The unpictured chicken rice.

First prepare the rice. A lack of sufficient quantities of the correct grain meant I used 2 cups of Jasmine, 1 of Basmati (not as bad as it sounds) and 2 tablespoons of Glutinous. Thrice the rice was rinsed.

In a mortar grind two coriander roots, two cloves of garlic and a small knob of ginger with a large pinch of salt. Now fry this in a medium saucepan, with rendered chicken fat or two tablespoons of peanut oil. Then add the rice and stir well, before adding enough stock to cover the rice by 1 distal phalanx (approx 1 inch). Turn the heat down and bring to the boil, periodically testing the rice and adding more stock if needed. It should take about 20 minutes.

Sori' Paitin Barbaresco 2005

Piedmont, Italy. Nebbiolo. 14%. Cork. Source: cellar.

Quite formidable and tannic, though the nose is somewhat generic and seems more notable for the process (extended maceration on skins) than the grape or region. Stems and tar, bay leaf, menthol and lavender. The initial impression in the mouth is of richness and a grainy seam of muscular tannins. I've no idea what blue ink tastes like, but this the mental image evoked as I drink. Quite linear and monumental and slightly hard work. 90. Now - 2016 with a T-bone.

Frankland Estate Netley Road Vineyard Riesling 2010

Great Southern, Western Australia. Riesling. 12.5%. Screwcap. Approx $A35.

Vines planted in 1968 and a name (Netley Road) that was new (to me) from a producer that is locally renowned.

Talc, blossom, slate and flint. I can smell the petroleum precursors already. Tahitian lime zest and white pepper tickle my olfactory bulb. . . Crunchy and for a fleeting moment a suggestion (false) of sweetness, soon replaced by a textured, fleshy presence in the mouth. The feel, if not the flavours remind me of rambutan and lychee. A bristling wine. 90-91. Now - 2016+

Image: David Thompson's superb, but unwieldy, Thai Street Food and what I ate (take away Chinatown roast pork) with this wine.

Wynns John Riddoch 1998

Coonawarra, South Australia. Cabernet sauvignon. 13.5%. Cork (excellent condition). Source: cellar.

I suspect Ernest Shackleton and John Riddoch have little in common*, though the respective time lines of their lives do coalesce for the last portion of the 19th century and they both took calculated risks at considerable cost.

I've been skimming through a wonderful book, Explorers, and I keep returning to the advert Shackleton placed for crew for his third trip to the Antarctic. He selected 56 men from 5000 applicants, who responded to this:

Wanted. Men for hazardous journey. Low wages. Bitter cold. Long hours of complete darkness. Safe return doubtful. Honour and recognition in the event of success.

The wine has changed little since 2007. It's still dark and deep with years to go before it sleeps. Slightly stinky and reductive to begin, an oak forest, shellac and polish, bay leaf, malt, soy, black olive tapenade and dark chocolate. Rich and layered, a sweet flourish to open and lovely poise, depth and length. A bitter chocolate, lead pencil finish. Excellent. Now - 2020.

* Post script and correction: An email for an informed source - John Riddoch's grandson, John Rymill was in fact a noted and accomplished polar explorer. He traveled to and explored the Antarctic in 1934 - 37 in a schooner aptly renamed the Penola.

Albondigas

Having two reasonably adventurous children, I try to cook something from a different country each week. Today, something Spanish and rustic.

Ingredients - Albondigas:

  • 250 - 300g each of minced pork and beef.
  • 3 cloves of garlic - finely diced
  • 1/3 large onion finely diced
  • 1 cup of fresh breadcrumbs
  • 1 small handful of parsley - finely chopped (I used a blender for the onion, bread and parsley)
  • 1 teaspoon each of ground coriander, cumin and nutmeg.
  • 1 pinch of cinnamon
  • 1 pinch of salt
  • 1 egg
Ingredients - Tomato sauce:
  • 1 tablespoon of olive oil
  • 2/3 large onion - finely diced
  • 1 garlic clove
  • 250ml dry white wine - I used chardonnay
  • 2 x 400g cans of diced tomatoes
  • 2 tablespoons of tomato puree
  • 1 cup chicken stock
  • 1 cup of frozen peas
How? Make the meat balls by combining all the above ingredients in a large bowl, working by hand until homogeneous. Shape into small balls, set aside and refrigerate for 30 minutes or so. Start on the sauce.

Fry the onion and garlic in a tablespoon of olive oil until clear and then add the wine and bring to the boil. After a few minutes add the tins of tomato, tomato puree and stock. Simmer and reduce by approximately half. Remove from heat. Cook the meat balls.

In a large pan fry the meat balls in olive oil, in batches, till brown on the outside. When all have been appropriately sealed and partially cooked - set aside and now reheat the sauce. Once simmering - add the meat balls to the sauce and cook for a further 5 minutes. Then add the frozen peas and mix and stir, till the peas are hot and the liquid is once again bubbling. Serve.

Wine? Through a combination of mismanagement and over consumption, I have a current paucity of Spanish wine. Never mind - the peas and tomato were capably washed down by few glasses of Coonawarra Cabernet.

Older

Coonawarra. South Australia. Cabernet sauvignon. 13.5%. Cork (1/3 stained). Source: cellar.

It's hard to escape the idea of growing old and frail. I spend each working day seeing people who have aged, being a select population, assured of confidentiality, most feel free to complain - about their skin growing weak and spotty, about their sight and hearing, about their bowels, about their children and about the perceived unfairness of it all. Just occasionally I see someone who is full of grace and good will, who despite all the years, hardships and visible degeneration seems content and unafraid.

1994 Wynns Black Label. Mature, but unbowed. Blackcurrant, cigar, cedar and a well used spice box. Dust and menthol and if you look a suggestion of sharpness which is in keeping with the vintage. Slightly short and sweet to begin, but then more length, spice, savouriness and dark chocolate. My last estimate of the drinking window seems overly pessimistic. Now - 2016. 90-92.

Image: On the topic of obsolescence, my first computer, purchased in the early 1990's, it cost me $7000 (I should have spent the money on wine. . .) and after more than a decade collecting dust, it now sits on the verge awaiting collection.

Jauma Abig 2010

Blewitt Springs, McLaren Vale, South Australia. Grenache. 14.8%. Diam. Approx $A49.

Pretty and spiced to begin, before becoming more dusty and lifted. Pepper and berries (crushed and blue), saw dust and a coat of vanilla and warm leather. Something creamy and confection like, though at times a less flattering note of toluene. . . Nothing more and nothing less than I'd expect. Large, warm and soft in the mouth, with more than a hint of Port. There's a redeeming spine of acid, fine, filmy tannins and moderate length. Overall, it's quite convincing. 89-90. Now - 2015.