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Doug’s Top 10 11

I have got a little list of personal wines of the year. It is a diary of drinking, naturally, but also about my feelings and attitudes towards wine in general. Memories are inevitably hazy. I cannot remember specifically how a wine may have tasted, only that it engendered warm feelings within and prompted emotions of surprise and delight at the time, the glow of which still echo down the passage of time.

The criterion for inclusion is that an entire bottle had to be consumed. Tasting a wine is fine, but one doesn’t establish a full-blown relationship in a mouthful, and witness how a wine evolves over the course of a bottle and to taste it with food, adds to one’s understanding of it.

This exercise further allows me to review my pattern of drinking. What colour, and what style of wine did I favour the past twelve months? And why? Did my tastes change according to the season and the weather? Did any single wine incite an epiphany, or has my palate become too jaded to get enraptured by the taste of wine?

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I teed off the newest part of the new year with a pair of Etna-inflected Vino di Annas, an always reliable juicy smile-inducing Palmento Rosso and the serious skin-touched Grecanico blend called Bianco G from old vines and lofty altitude. A further white from the estate, the volcanic-y 2021 Jeudi 15 Bianco, tasted and drunk on three occasions, makes it into my top wines of the year for its irresistible nerve, verve, and terrific salinity – you would swear this wine was made from grapes planted on a bed of crushed seashells seasoned by basalt’n’pepper.

Two other wines drank in Jan reached and stayed at the top of the class. The first was Kelley Fox’s 2022 Durant Vineyard Lark Block Chardonnay, from ancient marine soils in the Dundee Hills AVA. The nose begins with an almost heady, whirling nose of powdery minerals, ocean air, grapefruit, pear-pith and dry honey. These aromas are repeated in the mouth that has beautiful texture and racy acidity. The P (Puligny) word is merited in this case. The felicitously-named 2022 Maresh Vineyard Golden Crowned Sparrow Block Pinot Noir was my favourite red wine of the year, capturing all the evanescent magic that Pinot does in that particular place. Unfortunately, I only tried it twice in considered sips and have not hitherto consumed a whole bottle (it’s a future date), so, alas, it cannot make the top-ten list.

The other white marvel consumed in Jan, Renaud Boyer’s 2022 Bourgogne Aligoté, bowled me over with its textures of golden fruit. I have always strongly rooted for this underdog grape variety (its De Moor iteration is nonpareil as far as I am concerned) but Boyer’s version was beguiling showing that beautiful balance of concentrated old vines apple ‘n’ pear pulp and fluidity from ripe acids. Speaking of De Moor, the Chablis Bel Air et Clardy exhibited the classic attention to tension we have come to expect from their wines and would have graced the top table had it not been for the competition.

A mid-March Friday lunch at The Sportsman in Seasalter saw a group of hardened oenophiles wheeling in their biggest and baddest guns to impress one another. For all the heavy-duty classics – vintage champagne (Selosse), Brunello, Barolo, Chassagne-Montrachet from reputable growers paraded before us, it was Jean-François Ganevat’s ridiculously hedonistic 2008 Les Vignes de Mon Père that more than justified its critical reputation and did it for me. Parker gave me 100 pts here. Savagnin? Check! 12 years topped up in barrel? Check! Natural? Check! Tasting notes become irrelevant. This was the sort of wine that you want to climb inside of and surrender to. We speak glibly about layers of flavour; this was a magnificent millefeuille. The aromas subtle and complex – flowers, churned butter, exotic spice, warmth of golden fleshed fruit ripening on a tree, while extraordinary textures caress every part of your tongue. Rigour and whimsy in a glass.

Sassolini may sound like an avant-garde Italian movie director but is in fact the name of a cheeky Ciliegiolo from Podere Sassi that moved me to think and write the word “rustic” in my mental tasting note. For it embodied all things country. So purple, so throbbing with brambly bits, a red to send you screaming into the kitchen to whip up a meaty lasagne. Reader, I did this (recipe with the blog I subsequently wrote). No reds made the top ten in 2024, but this was undoubtedly my value wine of the year.

Shiny “balcony wine” of a wet and overcast 2024 was undoubtedly Christian Binner’s NV Si Rose, insta-papped no fewer than three times on the high Primrose Hill ledge with the sun setting dramatically behind the bottle illuminating its glowing contents. A feelgood wine in a feel-not-so-good year, being rose-orange-red holy multi-vintage marriage of skin-contact Pinot Gris and Gewurztraminer – a positively solar solera wine. Chutzpah wine. Two more friendly Alsace bangers appeared in September. Hesperide, from Domaine de l’Achillée, another flaming orange-hued peachy nectar – likewise blending Pinot Gris and Gewurz – and the wonderfully strange and strangely wonderful 2015 Traversée Riesling from Kumpf et Meyer, a golden barely-pet-nat, completed a strong annual game for the contingent of barking Alsatians.

Later in May, and back at Sune, this time with Zainab Majerikova and Chrisse Rasmussen, where we three encountered the lava-lampiest liquid on earth, namely Dario Princic’s multi-grape blend 2016 Favola Bianco. Some wines you have to see to believe – and when you see them you will scarcely believe them. This blend from Princic was like a meal in itself; every mouthful was rolled, chewed gently and enjoyed to the maximum extent. The colour as well – will be imprinted on my memory.

Here’s a note from Chrissie Rasmussen that perfectly expresses the tangible intangibles:

There is such complexity here. It is wild in the best way; wild at heart without being feral. So many scents of nature: chamomile, dried slightly sweet hay, apricots straight from the tree, even raspberries – something I usually find only in red wine. The tannins were the topic of our conversation: they are present, yet so soft and soothing somehow – silky wouldn’t be quite right, rather almost like cotton or fleece on your tongue. Cloud tannins. There is a ton of that lovely word the French called matière here, a word we don’t really have in English, but perhaps the best try is substance/density of flavour. A wine that is somehow in that realm between eating and drinking.

Three other notable amber wines assayed in the early part of the year were Andreas Tscheppe’s glorious Stagbeetle (Sauvignon x Chardonnay), Bianka and Daniel Schmitt’s profound Wild Pony, and a delicious newbie from I Forestieri in the Alta Maremma in Tuscany called Rigomale, a highly gluggable blend of Trebbiano with extended skin contact in amphora and Malvasia for its aromatic properties.

The now almost-annual “Winner Of The Eternal Game Of Spotless Cheninigans Award” goes to Savennières-Roche-aux-Moines (2018) from Domaine aux Moines. Semi-cliché tasting note alert. This Chenin exhibits Cistercian purity. Maybe the Moines were not of that Benedictine order, but the wine is. Savennières in all its glory with lashings of petrichor, straddling spring and autumn on the fruit spectrum, and sporting whispers of dry honey. I loved the wine because it put me in the moment and made me forget about grape and origin. To use cod-philosophical jargon, it was a wine ineffably in-and-of-itself. Any wine that diverts you from an analytic mindset and moves you to feel it instead, is deeply cherishable. And with six years bottle age on the clock, it is just beginning to crack a dry smile. The runner up in the Cheninja stakes was the 2021 from the same producer. A bottle tasted at Jamie Oliver’s restaurant elicited coos of wonder from the assembled diners. Mention in dispatches for three other regal Loire whites. Thierry Germain’s Saumur Blanc Clos Romans was in tears of limestone mode at the abovementioned lunch at The Sportsman (as was the Saumur Insolite drunk at The Barbary, Notting Hill), so ethereal and tonic you would scarcely notice them. Muscadet Excelsior from Domaine Luneau-Papin thrilled equally with its old vines concentration and mineral saltiness, a pure Melon-ator.

Over Alp-wards to Apremont and 2022 Montracul Blanc from Domaine Dupraz where we find fabulous examples of Jacquère organically grown on the eastern-facing glacial moraine soils of Reposoir. Montracul is from 115-year-old vines, the juice so crystalline, the wine initially shy with notes of white pear and flowers all shot through with cool minerals. Like licking a glacier. Mention in dispatches also for Yann Pernuit’s Belema Imago Gringet, a more than honourable chip off the Belluard block, a wine that reminds me of Heston Blumenthal’s hot and cold tea, for it contrives to be cool with minerals and warm with leesy spice at the same time.

A wine that enshrined the concept of mutability with huge dollops of quirk, strangeness and a rough kind of charm was a 2020 Romorantin from Etienne Courtois. The wine was shy to begin with, then, as it reached room temperature, it evolved into something quite extraordinary and multi-layered with the warmth of lees, subtle nutty oxidation and semi-sweet quince tarte tatin notes. Drunk over three hours in a meditative trance, a simply amazing, almost indescribable wine.

The final wine might be considered more of a trifle, but I invariably find that it taps into some primal need inside of me. 2023 Lambrusco Rosso Frizzante Camillo Donati was a sophisticated frothy joy, punching with bramble fruit, pith, and sour cherry pzazz. I adore its sanguine quality; drinking the wine becomes an exercise in joyous nourishment.

Bubbling under the top ten were two equally charming COS wines from Giusto Occhipinti, the Pithos Bianco (100% Grecanico) and Pithos Rosso (Nero d’Avola) both from the atypically light 2022 vintage. Arianna Occhipinti’s Contrade wines also deserve a mention, showing the beauty and the terroir nuances of Frappato on varying limestone soils. A tasting in the garden at Domaine Hauvette in Provence was a revelation. I over-use the word “subtle” in my descriptions, but in this case it is apt. The Petra Rosé was a marvel and made me feel good about life. Another skin-contact wine for inclusion was Zorjan’s Laski Rizling from Stajerska (Slovenian Styria). Finally, a wine from Beaujolais and Domaine Thillardon, a new white called Neptune Blanc, embodying everything I look for in a white.

There we have it. A top ten comprising seven whites, two skin-contact, and one red sparkling. A spread of grape varieties. French dominance. In terms of styles, I seemed to gravitate between chiselled linear whites with shell-like minerality and textural amber wines freighted with exotic spice, gentle tannins and hints of oxidation. 50% of the wines I drank throughout were reds, although most were very enjoyable, none were especially resonant. The reason for this, I believe, is that my personal palate reconfigured itself to respond positively to nervy, energetic whites, and rich amber wines have become my surrogate reds. Epiphany wines? The Favola, definitely. The colour alone possessed transcendent beauty and engulfed all one’s senses. The wine radiated energy. The Romorantin from Courtois had an otherness to it that took you inside the wine to experience it on its own terms.PS. And then on the edge of the deadline, an 11^th (of 10 to give it its Borg designation) manifests. And glory be – a red wine sneaks in. We don’t like Mondays, but we do love Mondeuse. Bruno Lupin produces a miniscule amount from his tiny vineyard, and the wine is aged for nine months in used barrels acquired from his friend at Domaine de la Romanée-Conti. All bow! In the winery, Bruno is a minimal interventionist. After a manual harvest, grapes are partially destemmed and crushed by foot. Native yeasts start the fermentation in stainless steel, and no sulphur is added prior to fermentation. The wine is then transferred into barrels for nine months before being bottled unfiltered. The DRC barrels give a deft touch (let’s pretend we can taste the whisper of their influence, and they add a hint of Burgundian charm to this wine). Bruno’s interpretation of the grape gives an alternative view of this variety. This 2023 Mondeuse is medium-light in colour, with a vibrant dark cherry-red colour. The nose mingles forest fruits, red cherry, and raspberry. Savoury aromatic notes of orange peel and a suggestion of graphite add to the ensemble. The wine soon opens further to reveal deeper notes of spicy plum, warm thyme, and clove. The palate displays black cherry and cracked black pepper, with a smokiness that grows on the finish, transforming into something herbal and minty. A beautiful wine, and rare as rocking horse something-or-other.

2021 Vino di Bianco Jeudi 15 Bianco, Etna, Sicily

2022 Kelley Fox Durant Vineyard Lark Block Chardonnay, Oregon

2022 Renaud Boyer Bourgogne-Aligoté, Burgundy

2008 J-F Ganevat Les Vignes de Mon Père, Côtes du Jura

NV Si Rose, Christian Binner, Alsace

2016 Favola Bianco, Dario Princic, Friuli

2018 Savennières-Roche-aux-Moines, Domaine aux Moines

2022 Montracul Blanc, Domaine Dupraz, Savoie

2020 Romorantin, Les Cailloux du Paradis, Courtois, Loire

2023 Camillo Donati Lambrusco Rosso Frizzante, Emilia-Romagna

2023 Mondeuse, Domaine Bruno Lupin, Savoie

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