A journey through some (slightly) obscure grape types

So the summer has drawn to an end, with grey skies forming over London and the nights drawing in, and therefore action was needed to allay any potential depressive feelings (as well as any tiny tinges of jealousy that might possibly be affecting us at the news of Giles and Michael’s cavortings around South America),. Luckily it was just as well that Vicky (assisted by the marvellous Steve) stepped in and called a Wine on Wednesday meeting (and perhaps more importantly greeted us with Aperol Spritzes in a valiant attempt to keep the spirit of summer alive). 

The theme (as dedicated readers of this blog, as well as absent WoW’ers will know, we ALWAYS have a theme) was “Grape Varieties that Vicky hadn’t drunk”.  This noble concept slightly fell apart when the sparkling wine for the Aperol Spritz (what is the plural of Spritz?) was Vouvray and the first “proper” wine was a Sauvignon Blanc. However, it was still another “vintage” evening with wine, excellent food (with a cheeseboard that defeated even Michael) and excellent company (Vicky, Steve, Greg, Juliet, Nish, Cath, Michael and me).

I am going to ignore Michael’s descriptions of South America – the spitting iguanas of the Galapagos and the Pisco Sours of Machu Picchu (this is a wine blog not a travel programme) – and move rapidly onto the purpose of the evening.

We started, as mentioned above, with Aperol Spritzer’s (I am working my way through the possible plurals until I get it right), which were lovely if a bit of a waste of a perfectly good Vouvray – which was very dry and would give any decent Champagne a run for it’s money. 

After our aperitif we started the proper tasting – in another break with tradition Vicky had decided not to make the tasting blind – so Greg and I were forced to guess quickly before the label was revealed (although Vicky did come up with the interesting idea of “completely blind” tasting, where the wine itself was hidden to see if we could distinguish red and white by taste alone – an idea to be revisited).  The first wine was a 2012 Rod Easthope Sauvignon Blanc from Hawke’s Bay in New Zealand.  This was a very good example of a New Zealand Sauvignon – dry but quite fruity and with that typical “cat’s pee on a gooseberry bush” taste (thank you Jilly Goolden).  Of course, as regular readers will know, I’m not a fan of the Sauvignon Blanc grape, but the rest of the group seemed to enjoy this and thought it well worth the £11.99 price.

Moving rapidly on to a wine I enjoyed much more – a 2012 Montaria Alvarinho from the Lisbon region of Portugal (and again £11.99).  This was a delight – dry and fruity – and would be a great wine as either an aperitif or with light creamy pasta dishes (we are getting sophisticated matching food and wine – don’t worry it will stop soon).  I assume Alvarinho is the same grape as the Spanish Albarino – it certainly tasted similar, but I had always thought it was only a Galician grape.

We stayed in Portugal for the next wine, a 2012 Prova Regia Arinto, which Naked Wines describes as a "vibrant, scintillating white that's earned heaps of medals by being pure, clean and refreshing. The Arinto grape used to be world famous but big, industrial producers let its reputation slip."  This was again a very nice wine, in a lovely bottle that reminded us of those elegant Riesling bottles.

Moving on to the reds, the next wine was another delight, a 2010 Joly Lirac Cotes du Rhone Villages – Vicky chose this because she thought she had never tasted Mourvedre grapes before, but then once we pointed out they were a constant in Cotes du Rhone wine, she accepted that maybe she had simply forgotten.  Apparently, Mourvedre and Syrah must make up at least 15% of the grapes in a Cotes du Rhone wine, as long as Grenache Noir is more than 40%.  Anyway, this was a classic Cotes du Rhone wine – brambly and rich, but not overpowering.

The next wine was probably the only disappointment of the evening (other than Michael having met only one Jesus and no Angel’s in South America).  This was a Christian Patat Primitivo from Salento in the south of Italy (and on sale at £11.99).  Primitivo is generally reckoned to be very close to the Zinfandel grape, and nearly every Primitivo I have had has been a big brute of a wine – perhaps lacking in subtlety but with a real punch.  This wine lacked that – it was perfectly pleasant but just a bit bland and lacking in character – we discussed that it almost hinted at Pinot Noir type lightness, which was a bit odd.

The final wine was excellent though – with the full bodied taste that the Primitivo had lacked.  This was a Chilean Old Vine Carignan – the 2008 Gillmore Tontinaja Vigno Loncomilla Dry Farmed Maule Valley Old Vine Carignan to be precise (and with that many words in the description it better be precise!).  This wine brought blackberry brambles and tannins (in a very good way) and helped justified the £21.99 that Naked Wines charge if you are not a "wine angel".

Finally, I should point out (if you had not already guessed from the links) that the wines all came from Naked Wines – we discussed Naked Wines in one of our earlier posts.

CHEERS!