Wine Tasting London

It is said that wine has been around since 6000 BC, and over the centuries has been used for religious reasons as well as medicinally. In more recent times though, it has been a drink to enjoy and there are many kinds. Wines are usually broken up into groups depending on the type of grapes they are made from, then further divided by the year they were made in and the area the grapes were grown. Each wine has a distinctive taste and telling the diffeence between them has become something of an art form.

Wine tasting is the tasting and evaluation of wine, and it can be either a serious or a social
experience. At WW Tastings we offer wine tasting London wide, and provide a wide range of wine tasting events and experiences to suit your needs. We can accommodate any size party, from a select group to

thousands. Each party can be tailor made to suit your budget and requirements, and we can supply a huge range of wines.

Wine Tasting London

Wine tasting is no longer just for the connoisseur, it is for everyone and can be a social event or and icebreaker in many settings and for any occasion. It can be for a birthday, anniversary or other special event. It can be a more refined hen or stag party. It can also be great for companies; for corporate parties, to entertain new clients and even as an alternative team building exercise. It would make you an endlessly popular boss!

When looking for a company that carries out wine tasting in London, we believe we are the best as we don’t just pride ourselves on the quality of the wine, and our range of knowledge, we are also friendly and approachable. We can provide a package for anyone, to suit any walk of life.

Minerality in Chablis

Our group at -10 Degrees

The recent AWE trip to Chablis, from 4th to 7th February, was a great opportunity for a harmonious mixture of AWE and CWW members to reacquaint themselves with the complexities of the Chablis terroir and the wines’ various incarnations, during a well-selected programme of visits to small and larger producers and houses organised by Sopexa and the CIVB. The visit included the Fête de Saint-Vincent Tournante du Chablisien in Courgis on the Sunday, the report of which is included in a piece by fellow CWW member David Cobb. My report covers the two days’ tastings at vineyards, which confirmed for me why this region has maintained such a steadfast popularity, and is still something of a benchmark region for high-quality dry white wine.

Les Clos, with Chablis in the background

We stayed at the marvellous Hostellerie des Clos, in the centre of Chablis, which gave us the opportunity one afternoon to walk the length of the ‘balade des Grands Crus’ around all seven Grand Cru vineyards, in a moment of sunny afternoon respite from the otherwise arctic temperatures (the temperature in the shade during our stay never went above -10°). These vineyards are all on what the Chablisiens now refer to, in rather Bordelais style, as ‘right bank’.

The timing of our pleasantly warm afternoon walk was fortunate as these vineyards face south west, thus catching the most of the afternoon sun. They are also on the steepest slopes, which create ideal topography for an energetically warming uphill walk; also, the excellent drainage concentrates the wine. The soil on this right bank is all Kimmeridgian, of course, with its Jurassic shellfish fossils, and is supposed to be responsible for the minerality of the wines, that much-used, but not so much understood, term in the region.

Is it salt from the fossils perhaps, hot dried stone aroma from the stones, an organic-

Chablis Rock Strata in Brocard's Cellar

mineral clay complex created by micro-organisms, a combination of all of these, or something else? I associate minerality with the smell of the dried seawater on the stones on Brighton beach on a hot summer’s day. Other people have different descriptors; whatever minerality is, all the tasters from our trip were convinced of its existence by the wines we tasted.

The left bank covers all the rest of the Chablis appellations to the south west of the river, including most of the Premiers Crus, Chablis and Petit Chablis. Most vineyards on this side are south east or east facing, on shallower slopes and therefore without such concentration. Soils for Chablis and Premiers Crus are supposed to be Kimmeridgian, giving steely minerality, and Portlandian clay for Petit Chablis, giving less intensity and softer, broader texture. There are, though, instances of Portlandian soils in village and Premier Cru vineyards. Why can’t it ever be simple? Then, you have production methods, to complicate things further…

Lucy Depuydt at Moreau

Our first visit, to the house of J. Moreau & Fils, served as an excellent introduction to the minerality discussion which dominated conversation during the three-day visit. The house is owned by the Boisset group, and operates from a pristine facility just to the north of Chablis. Encouragingly, Boisset insists on each house having its own winemaker; so Moreau’s viticulture and winemaking is managed by Lucie Depuydt, a young winemaker very focused on the complexities of the region’s soils. Dennis Dubourdieu, the white wine guru, is consultant, so the winemaking is squeaky clean. Malolactic fermentation is the norm (Lucy Depuydt suggested the reason for not doing it would be because the grapes were picked too late), and a small amount of oak, only old, is used on Premier and Grand Cru wines; Moreau even takes the trouble to condition new barriques with lesser wine, which is then sold on, to ensure the quality of its barrels. The house has no vines of its own, but strict guidelines with the 15 growers it works with, and the wines showed the clean, fresh linear quality (minerality?) that people associate with Chablis.

A 2006 Chablis Reserve, made from the best parcels of the vintage, showed the ageing potential of these wines, with a yeasty (one year on the lees), creamy nose and a fresh palate of dried apricots refreshed by steely acidity. The 2006 Grand Cru Vaudesir, the first vintage under Dubourdieu’s guidance, showed the reduced oak regime, with its fresh white-fruit richness and mouth-filling youthful acidity, in contrast to the more oxidative, smoky sweet-apricot flavours of the more oak-influenced 2005 Grand Cru Valmur.

Next was Domaine de la Meulière, run by Vincent and Nicolas Laroche, not part of the

Vincent Laroche, Domaine de la Meulière

Laroche family from a later visit, but independent, artisanal growers based at Fleys, to the east of Chablis. The brothers practise agriculture raisonnée, with manual harvesting, low intervention and grass growing between rows of the 24 ha of vines. They use oak sparingly (apart from one deliberate exception) to maintain the purity of the wine.

Their Petit Chablis 2010 was delicious, with ripe white pear, a smooth, quite round palate, and easy texture. No great ‘nerf’ or minerality, but a charming wine. A strange experiment punctuated the middle of the tasting: their Chablis 2007 cuvée Les Larmes de l’Oubli was ‘forgotten’  in a barrel (old of course, but still..) for 43 months, in the words of Vincent Laroche ‘just for fun’! Despite mutterings from some  members of our group, several of us liked its smoky, spicy, diffuse fruit style, with a hint of tannin on the finish. It wasn’t Chablis, but it was fun, as intended! All the La Meulière Premier Cru wines see no oak, for purity of style, and highlights were a classically austere and spicy white-fruited Vaucopin 2010, which won a gold at the Concours de Chablis in January, and a regal Mont de Milieu Vieilles Vignes 2008, Cuvée des Gougueys, of Grand Cru calibre, made from 62-year-old vines, with huge stony-fruit richness, balanced by ripe mouth-watering acidity. To contradict what I just said, this did in fact see 5% oak, but it didn’t show, perhaps just broadening the flavour.

Later, we visited the estate of Pascal Bouchard, long-established Chablis estate and negociant of the same name. Here, you get three companies in one:

The winery building itself is Pascal Bouchard, Grands Vins de Chablis, the father’s operation. This is slick and modern, a pristinely clean efficiency of design, perhaps to allude to the clean minerality of the wines. The viticulture is heading towards sustainable, with chemical fertilisers and treatments eliminated, and grass grown between the rows. He doesn’t want the oak used to show, only to broaden the flavours, and this is borne out by a superb Grand Cru Les Clos 2007, For this100% oak ageing is used, but it doesn’t taste oaky, instead showing open, buttery richness, ripe white stone fruit, apricots and clean, steely, Grand Cru linearity (d’you see how I managed to avoid the ‘m’ word)!

Romain Bouchard

Then DRB, described as a new concept, created by Pascal Bouchard’s two sons Damien and Romain. Romain refers to DRB as a “boutique negociant”. They buy must from single vineyard parcels of selected growers, and vinify at their father’s estate. There is no blending; in their words “…each wine offers the expression of its own terroir”. Both brothers are involved equally, although Damien tends to be more in charge of vinification. They try to avoid oak. However, the star of the range which they showed us was their Premier Cru Montée de Tonnerre 2010, which won a gold medal in the Concours des Vins de Chablis. This was vinified 100% in oak, simply because only 1709 bottles are produced and they don’t have a tank small enough. Although not new, I thought the oak did show a little, with a hint of creamy vanilla on top of ripe melon and lime flavours, and a long, austere, very dry steely finish.

Finally, Romain has his own estate cultivated with organic vines: Romain Bouchard, Domaine de la Grande Chaume. The land is leased in ‘fermage’ –  a very old French system whereby the rentis calculated according to the agreed potential yield in hectolitres multiplied by the price per hectolitre for the appellation averaged over the past five years. The wine was terrific. AB organic certified, it showed broad, diffuse white fruit, a stony, clean, yes, mineral palate, a youthful freshness and great balance. He is working toward biodynamic certification, in his words “bit by bit”.

Romain Bouchard’s comment on his methods told a lot: “I need to learn. I like everything, I am very open.” This open-minded attitude seems to be bearing fruit at this exciting Chablis estate.

Right in the middle of Chablis is Domaine Pinson. This family have been making wine here for 350 years. They make a different style of Chablis, incorporating new oak in some of their Premier (10-15%) and Grand Cru (20%) wines, with barrel fermentation. The result was superbly clean, modern wines, with a broader flavour than some of the other estates’ wines. The Premier Cru Montmains 2010 showed clean, crisp Chablis linearity, the Premier Cru Mont de Milieu 2010 was richer, rounder, riper, with a hint of the Côte de Beaune, and the 2009 Grand Cru Les Clos was magnificent, with waxy, toasty, smoky aromas, while still managing that floral, dry steeliness. A Chablis for people who don’t like Chablis!

Before dinner at Domaine Laroche that evening, we tasted all the award-winners in the

Eric Szablowski

2012 Concours des Vins de Chablis. The wines were all good representations of their appellations, and it was a pleasure to get the opportunity to taste them, but the tasting itself was illuminating because we were guided through it by Eric Szablowski, a local wine educator, whose encyclopaedic knowledge of the region seemed to include the exact geological structure of every square metre of land in every vineyard. By the end of that tasting, we were totally convinced as to the terroir-derived source of the minerality of the wines.

An Ancient Press at Laroche

Mathieu Appfel, the Laroche viticulturist, showed us round the Laroche cellars, including the original press from the house, which was founded in 1850. Mathieu’s irrepressible combination of enthusiasm and charm was as enticing as the wines, and dinner was accompanied by a charming Chablis 2010 St Martin from Laroche vines, a clean, taut, searingly citrus Premier Cru Vaudevey 2008, a riper, fruitier Premier Cru les Fourchaumes Vieilles Vignes 2007, in Mathieu’s words “a hot appellation in a cold year”, and a tremendously pure Grand Cru les Blanchots 2006, showing that ageing 50% of the production in 30% new oak does not detract from the minerality of the wine.

Mathieu’s tongue-in-cheek estimation of how to succeed in the region was: “Good Chablis is made by an adventurous viticulturist and a lazy winemaker.” It seems to work for him.

The next day’s Wine Tasting at La Chablisienne conformed to expectation. All, I think, were aware of the quality reputation of this excellent co-operative, and the visit confirmed this. It does not buy on the free market, but all from its own contracted and regulated growers, whose entire production is bought. La Chablisienne takes a hands-on approach, with a team of viticulturists working in the producers’ vineyards, so the co-operative really does practise what it preaches. Long lees ageing is favoured (the youngest vintage we tasted was 2009, as the 2010s weren’t yet bottled), and a mixture of very little new and mainly old oak is used in varying proportions, on all Premier and Grand Cru wines. We were guided through the tasting by Hervé Tucki. Soil and minerality were the main tenets of his presentation, and the wines demonstrated this.

Too many wines were tasted to list all, but I found the Petit Chablis 2009, ‘pas si petit”’,clarified the concept of minerality for me quite usefully. This was a thoroughly commercial, well made and eminently sellable wine, totally ‘fit for purpose’, in the popular jargon. However, despite the lean, fresh citrus line it cut, for me it didn’t have that stony richness I call minerality; Indeed, La Chablisienne publishes a useful booklet called Minerality, which tries to explain this elusive descriptor. In it, the authors talk of a ‘…tension in the air. A sort of energy…’; this wine didn’t seem to have that energy. Most of the others did. Chablis 2009 La Sereine showed a creamy, round, rich leesy character, and a richer, steely, yes, mineral acidity. The Premier Cru Mont de Milieu 2009 was replete with white stone fruit, and showed that combination of richness and linearity which characterises minerality and creates balance. The wine of the co-operative’s own vineyard, Château Grenouilles 2008 Grand Cru, was easily the star of the show. The vines at Château Grenouilles are farmed organically, with no insecticides, fertilisers, or herbicides and vineyard sexual confusion, but not certified, and 50% of the wine is barrel aged. It showed a great clarity of white stone fruit, combined with creamy butterscotch, a rich but steely fresh palate and a mouth-filling, long finish. Richness and minerality in a glass. Hervé says: “For me, La Chablisienne is a producer.. In this, and the other wines as well, I think this attitude is borne out.

Finally, to the southwest of Chablis, in Préhy, is Jean-Marc Brocard. This is a large estate with about 100 ha of its own vines, plus 100 ha leased, and the Brocards also buy must from others. They are converting their vineyard to biodynamic production, with 35 ha currently certified, and a further 35 ha on the way. The winery is gravity fed; other points of interest were the ‘eggs’, egg-shaped cement tanks used for ageing some of the wines.

The tasting started with an useful demonstration of wines (of Bourgogne appellation, not

Pierre Jovignot at Brocard

Chablis) from each of the different soils. Kimmeridgian 2009 showed a slaty, lean aspect. Unfortunately, the 2009 Portlandian was not available, so we tasted 2007, which showed much more maturity, the fruit rather flattened by age, but softer, and broader. Jurassic 2009 provided a better comparison; Jurassic is of course a period, not a soil, but this was from vines on a mixture of Kimmeridgian and Portlandian soils, and it was lighter, less steely, more diffuse than the Kimmeridgian on its own, I thought. Less mineral? Maybe.

Pierre Jovignot, our ebullient host, guided through a hugely varied range of wines, most of very high quality and expression, punctuated by a visit from Jean-Marc Brocard himself, who charmed the party with the honesty of his description of his quest for quality. His Chablis 2009 Domaine de laBoissonneuse, certified biodynamic by Demeter, showed classic 2009 warmth, lots of white fruit and ripe apricots, and rich, mineral acidity. Several of the Premiers Crus will be certified biodynamic for the 2011 vintage, including Vaudevey where the 2010 was fabulous, with lean, fresh, linear white fruit and steely acidity. All Grands Crus were magnificent, Bougros 2009, tight, very powerful muscular, latent, with

Eggs and a Foudre at Brocard

loads of potential and mineral freshness. Les Preuses 2009, aged 100% in the egg vat, was amazing, with Côte d’Or richness, replete with ripe apricots and melons, and, although it had seen none a toasty, smoky, waxy, oak-aged impression. A surprising, atypical, quite majestic wine.

A three-day education in minerality. For such an imprecise, poorly-understood term, it elicits a lot of interest, and is fiercely promoted in Chablis, even in larger, very commercial operations like Laroche, Brocard, and La Chablisienne, who you might expect to shun a concept as difficult, even cerebral, perhaps ‘hard to sell’. Minerality dominated our discussions during the three-day visit, spawned a booklet from La Chablisienne, and descriptions from the smaller, booklet-less growers. The aforementioned booklet serves well as a glossary of associated terms: ‘petroleum, traces of seashells and iodine, tension, energy, purity, a crystalline expression of the wine’. The authors ask: “Could someone have dropped some pebbles in the wine?”, and describe “those first big raindrops that fall and dry just before a storm on a hot, dry, day”, which sounds a lot like my descriptor on Brighton beach. However you want to describe it, minerality is alive and well in Chablis.

The London Wine Workshop

A short post this time (the last on on fizz ended up far longer than I expected), and this time to rather shamelessly promote my new venture! I have just set up a group called, rather appropriately, The London Wine Workshop Group. So, if you feel my tirades about Champagne, Italian, and Chilean wines haven’t sated your thirst, why not join my workshop group and learn all you can in a day of wine tasting on the 14th January, with a group of fellow Wine Tasters & lovers, in a trendy pub in Westbourne Park, The Metropolitan?

Click here for more information: The London Wine Workshop Group

Champagne, Prosecco, and Blanc de Blancs

It’s Christmas again, and people start to think about drinking cold fizzy wine again, for the first time since the summer. If you wonder why this seemingly inappropriate, summery sort of drink should be chosen in the middle of winter (I do sometimes), the answer is to do with the festive fizziness of the style outweighing it’s coldness. Here, therefore, is my view on Champagne and alternatives, with as little boring history, and as much balanced insight as possible (always difficult on this rather emotive subject).

What’s all the fuss about, and why does it always have to cost more? The answer is integration. If you used what I call the Tesco sparkling water technique, and carbonated some wine from an ugly great gas cylinder (which, incidentally, you can do; the French even have a quaint expression for it, ‘pompe bicyclette’), you would end up with much the same result as the water: it fizzes for just about the amount of time it takes you to pour it into your glass, then goes flat, and you are back where you started. So you generally don’t do that, rather opting for a variety of more involved techniques, usually, but not always involving a secondary fermentation to create the gas which is then trapped in the bottle. And yes, by more involved, I do mean more expensive as well. The pinnacle of these methods is what used to be rather self-explanatorily called the Champagne Method, now called Traditional Method. Most of the more expensive fizzes (including, of course, all Champagne) use this method, and a great result is achieved. Incidentally, to try to lead seamlessly into the next part of the article, it has become widely accepted now, even by the French (vive l’entente cordiale!) that it was an Englishman, Christopher Merret, who devised the basics of this method, not Dom Perignon, a French monk, as previously thought.

So there is the technical background (with a little boring history, sorry). Now, the options. First, you have Champagne. It is more expensive both because of prestige (whatever that is), but also because of quality; they have been making and refining this for longer than anyone else (even if they didn’t invent it), and they make a great, and reliably good fizz. Pick your favourite Champagne House, and impress your guests. They all make a version in their own ‘house style’. I don’t have space to go through all the different Houses and their styles. The internet, the source of all knowledge, should yield the secret with a little searching. In fact, there is a link for your enlightenment: Tom Stevenson, the Champagne expert, has very generously donated to the interweb an admittedly old, but still very useful, 2003 edition of his Champagne and Sparkling Wine guide. It is on Tom Cannavan’s site at:  http://www.wine-pages.com/guests/tom/fizz2003.htm. It’s not every day you get a free book! Just before I leave this, though, let me answer the point about Blanc de Blancs, because this is usually, but not always, used with reference to Champagne. This means quite simply that it is a white wine made from white grapes. You may wonder why that wouldn’t always be the case, and the answer is that Champagne can be made from three different grapes: Chardonnay, Pinot Noir, and Pinot Meunier. Chardonnay is, as everyone knows, white, the other two are red. So when a Champagne is Blanc de Blancs it is 100% Chardonnay, simple as that.

Talking of which, here is the first recommendation: Tesco, a company not universally loved by all in the trade, because of their aggressive purchasing strategies, nevertheless have some gems in their range. One such, I believe, is their Tesco Champagne Vintage 2006 Brut. This is a terrific buy at just over £18 on offer at the moment

Then, I want to revisit the relationship we English have with the French, which I sometimes describe as love/hate: we love their wines, but we hate them! Not content with inventing the stuff, we now seem to be rubbing salt into the wound by making fizzes which beat Champagnes in competitions for sparkling wines. Camel Valley in Cornwall has just won the Sparkling Rosé Trophy for its Pinot Noir Rosé 2009. Other estates in England to watch out for are Nyetimber and Ridgeview, both in West Sussex, who have also won numerous awards; I also like Denbies Whitedowns Sparkling from Dorking, and Chapel Down’s version, from Kent. None of these are cheap (they are on a par with cheap Champagne, in a range of about £18-£30), but they are good, and it gives a patriotic glow to drink them; I don’t know how much that is worth!

Camel Valley Pinot Noir Rosé is available direct from the vineyard at www.camelvalley.com  (£24.95), Various Cuvées of Ridgeview and Nyetimber are available at Waitrose, as are Denbies Whitedowns (£16.99) and Chapel Down Reserve Brut (£17.99)

Finally, we have all the other versions. Every wine-making country in the world makes fizz, a lot of it pretty good. Cava, from Northern Spain is passé (isn’t it?), but still pretty good, except for the cheap ones, and that last proviso applies to all sparkling wines, especially and including Champagne. Prosecco (along with Pinot Grigio) has resuscitated the Italian wine industry. Is it getting passé too? I still like the style; David Beckham and I (without once discussing it) both accepted our feminine side several years ago, and Prosecco sure displays a feminine side with its fruity semi-sweetness. The better ones like Bisol, Ruggeri, and many others, are drier. Again, price is usually a good indicator: the more expensive, the drier and better. Other regions in France compete with Champagne. I have always liked Loire fizzes like Vouvray and Saumur. Made from the Chenin Blanc grape, these have the profile of Champagne, with a lean citrus mineral core (usually), but, I think, with the bonus that they have a fruity, grassy side not often seen in Champagne, which makes them more interesting in some ways. Plus, of course, they’re cheaper. Further afield, to make a huge generalization for which I will be shot down if any wine buffs or particular country specialists read this, New World versions like Australia and Chile tend to be more fruit driven, and richer. There’s a lot of wine out there.

For Prosecco, I would recommend a good one like Ruggeri’s Argeo Brut, which I can personally supply at £14.99 a bottle (it’s not cheap, but it is very good), or Majestic’s Prosecco di Conegliano Valdobbiadene Extra Dry NV, at £9.99. I also like Majestic’s Bouvet Ladubay Saumur NV (£9.99), and I had a fruitsome bottle of Isla Negra Sparkling Brut, from Chile, a while ago. This is available at Tesco; pricewise, to give you an insight into their unpopularity in some trade quarters, this is listed at a ‘normal’ price of £12.99. Bought on promotion (which it regularly is), it goes for just £4.99. Who’s for buying it for £12.99?

I’ve certainly only scratched the surface with this, and missed whole swathes of exciting places: Luminaries like Michel Rolland, Randall Graham, Steven Spurrier, and I all see great potential in the Black Sea area. The Caucasus region is one of my favourites, and of course India (there are more exciting drinks than Omar Khayyam, believe me), not forgetting Canada, and, last but maybe not least China may be the next big thing in fizz. But still, this is a snapshot of my thinking, and I hope it is of use. Merry Christmas, with plenty of fizz; there’s enough choice!

More for more Wine Tasting ideas, visit our homepage.

Wine tasting on Friday: Chile and Taurasi, emerging classics

Two wine tastings yesterday: A Wines of Chile tasting titled “Emerging Classics, Chardonnay and Pinot Noir” during the day, and some samples of southern Italian wines, in the evening. It’s a tough life, eh?

Let me dust off my violin for you for a minute, though: to get to the Chilean tasting, I had to travel from Ealing to Borough through the worst of the Friday afternoon traffic. I admit it was on the bike, which is more fun than any car or tube, and I did have another appointment in the City, so two birds were killed with the one stone (what sort of an expression is that, anyway?), but it was a lot of driving. Because of the driving, and also  to maintain my professional integrity, I do have to spit them all out, so it isn’t as much fun as it sounds. So shed a little tear for your stressed wine taster…

Wine Regions of Chile

Wine Regions of Chile

The Chilean Wine Tasting was a little rushed, so I only tasted Pinot Noirs. On the whole I would say that the Chileans have, by and large, started to master the making of this difficult grape. I didn’t taste any of the boiled, soupy, sweet concoctions that used to be Chile’s offering. Instead, we had mainly clean, bright, fresh strawberry fruited wines, which is what Pinot Noir is all about. Highlights were a lovely Tabali Talinay 2009 from Limari, in the North, a terrific Kingston Family Vineyards Alazan 2010, reassuringly expensive (now there’s a good salesman’s pitch!), from Casablanca, an a fresh and clean Anakena Single Vineyard 2010, from Leyda. Bio Bio, in the south, is supposed to be cooler (although many would disagree, saying that the climatic divide in Chile is East-West, depending in how high up in the Andes you are), which should make it more suited to Pinot Noir, but the two on offer yesterday didn’t make it into this article (which isn’t a good thing)!

Italy's Wine Regions

Italy's Wine Regions

In the evening, an Irpinia Aglianico 2006, and two vintages (2006 and 2003) of Taurasi, all from a grower called Guastaferro. Never heard of these wines? No surprise, they’re regional Italians; so many names, so little time… no-one can keep up. These come from Campania, home of Naples and pizza, and are made from the Aglianico grape, a typical dark fruited, rich, acidic, and tannic southern Italian grape. Lovely wines, though, well-managed tannins, mature, and full of Mediterranean warmth.

Not a bad day; I got to moan about the stresses of wine tasting, too. We drank the Irpinia (well, it was open, it had to be finished…) with dinner of home-made pizza, to keep it regional, and it was a match made in heaven.

Visit to Sedlescombe Vineyard

Sedlescombe

Sedlescombe Vineyard on a beautiful November 13th

Yesterday’s visit to Sedlescombe Organic Vineyard must have been well viewed by whoever is in charge of the weather, as we had a day of uninterrupted glorious November sun; a little chilly, sure, but as clement as we could have hoped for. I know that Oscar Wilde has said that “Conversation about the weather is the last resort of the unimaginative”, but it is important if you compare the appeal of a rain-soaked tramp through a sodden English vineyard (which had been my experience up till then) to the pleasant autumn glow of “the awesome countryside of the Sussex High Weald”, (to quote Bill Green of Slow Food, my fellow organizer) that we got yesterday.

Sedlescombe

The lovely Susan with her vines

Our hosts Irma and Susan were welcoming as anything, and the tour and tasting were well appreciated. We even managed to fill the coach exactly (not an easy task, with people joining and cancelling right up to the evening before), which made it as cost-effective as possible, and went back with the coach clinking occasionally from the purchases of various member of the group.

Not everything was perfect, though. Our coach driver had had his mobile stolen the evening before (by someone in a party of rugby players he was chauffeuring, of all people; shame on you)! Still, we got there using alternate navigation (my phone), with the customary detour down a wrong turning, which, I feel, adds spice to all successful vineyard visits!

Lunch

Animated discussion, a feature of every good lunch

The tour around this tiny artisanal organic, and in part, biodynamic vineyard was charming, and instructive, but it was the tasting which surprised. I know several of the wines well, and have, on past tastings, found them bright and alive, full of vibrant, lively fruit, balanced by moreish ripe English acidity. Yesterday the wines tasted OK, even good. Nothing wrong, sure, they all had a harmonious, and pleasant expression, but I found them a little flat, and muted. Even the Sedlescombe First Release, their inaugural biodynamic wine, seemed to lack the clarity of citrus fruit compote I found on previous Wine Tastings. This was the wine that introduced me to the estate. The first time I showed it at a biodynamic wine seminar I was presenting last year, it blew everyone away with is exuberant quality; yesterday it was appreciated.

Perhaps here is the answer: I am no die-hard zealot of biodynamic viticulture above all others, nor, infectious though it is, do I share Doug Wregg’s or Isabelle Legeron’s unequivocal enthusiasm for ‘Natural wines’, but I am certainly very appreciative of natural ways of making wine like biodynamic, and organic, and I do have a little booklet called “When wine tastes best. A biodynamic calendar for wine drinkers” in my office. Consulting this today, I find that yesterday was a root day, all day. Root and leaf are the days in the biodynamic calendar on which wines are supposed to taste flatter, while flower and fruit days invigorate aromas and flavours.

So there it is: The biodynamic calendar really is the new wine drinker’s bible! As a scientist

Bottles

So many bottles, so little time!

by education, I will say, though, that I am impressed with this empirical endorsement of the calendar. Ideally I would have arranged the visit on a fruit or flower day; practicalities like Slow Food’s calendar also have to be taken into account, though, and yesterday was the day decided on. At least the 13th didn’t fall on a Friday; who knows, that might have caused other problems.

I still consider Sedlescombe Vineyard’s wines to be some of the best around, and we had a fantastic trip and superbly hosted  tour of an unique English vineyard. We learned about organic and biodynamic viticulture, and more than we were expecting about biodynamic wine tasting. The calendar tells me Advent Sunday, the 27th November is an especially good fruit day. Let’s go to Sedlescombe again then and see the difference!

A recent comment from a series of tastings

I just wanted to take the opportunity to thank you for what has been a fantastic series of evenings. The feedback has been great from everyone here they’ve all learn’t something and had a lot of fun doing so and that is mainly down to you. You are definitely Razorfish’s cup of Tea (or appropriately glass of wine ;-) I would be massively suprised if their wasn’t huge interest in continuing the sessions next year and will certainly be in touch to discuss options for 2012.
Rob, Razorfish