Red fruit day
It’s me, isn’t it? When a wine I love one year because its particularly snappy and sappy quality tips over into something that I kind of like, but don’t love.
For reds I am predisposed to enjoy wines which are on the red fruit spectrum. They gush, like wild berries popping in the mouth. I wonder if there is a marked difference in the alcohol levels between vintage – and no they are the same. Did the grape skins get a bit of burn on them? No, it’s the juice itself. It feels darker, heavier. Red segues into dark blue, even black.
I feel the disappointment more keenly with wines that I know, probably because I have taste memories lodged in my brain and my mouth is thus watering in anticipation of delicious gratification. A wine’s unwonted astringency or pronounced liqueur flavour upsets my anticipation. Natural fluidity has been subsumed in substance.
There is nothing inherently wrong with ripe-fruited red wines. For me, however, the sensation of red in a wine is equivalent to life-blood, a coursing energy that makes me feel good, with the crunchy red cherry on the top.
Of UK natural wine fairs
I was invited down to Brighton by the organisers Pour Choices to give a couple of short talks at the wine fair. The subject was the past, present and future of UK natural wines. Even as little as five years ago, this was not a subject that we would be talking back. There is no past to speak of, there is a discombobulated present – of sorts. Not a full-fledged natural scene, but the odd green shoot such as the fair above, LOW in Margate, Real Wine in the Vines and tastings promoted by Under The Bonnet Wines. Natural wine, however, is not just about local small growers here with their different agenda, it is a worldwide community of artisan vignerons and their supporters, and UK growers are only at the very early stages of penetrating the consciousnesses of consumers and wine opinion formers in other countries.
English wine has yet to have a clear identity. Perhaps, because it has several identities. We hear a lot about traditional method sparkling wines, more now about Pinot Noir (the most planted grape variety) and Chardonnay. The so-called heritage grape varieties, those Germanic crossings planted mainly in the 1960s and 1970s are being sidelined. A few regenerative growers are looking at hybrids (or PiWis) as an option to assist low-input farming. Other than a handful of trial vineyards with a few rows of vines, there isn’t a lot of variety.
Organics is just establishing itself, there are a tiny handful of biodynamic growers and regenerative is more talked about than practised. We don’t have the familial culture of vineyards and wineries being handed down the generations. But the UK does have its fair share of mavericks and individuals dedicated to pursuing their passion projects outside the mainstream wine industry.
And these small wine fairs provide excellent opportunities to gain a contemporaneous overview of the natural wine scene.
A rosé is a rosé is a rosé ~ that seasonal thang
Just as teenagerdom starts much earlier nowadays than back when I were a hormonal lad, so the consumption of rosé wines has been pushed back from early summer to almost the end of winter. Not sure if that simile fits, but let’s go for it. This year, in a shock to the systems of vitamin D deprived folk, the sun emerged from purdah and stayed resolutely out. Lo, cafés and pubs disgorged their human contents onto the pavement, parks became carpeted with sun-worshipping bodies. And rosé sales went as high as the pollen level. Nothing says I am sloughing off the winter blues and celebrating the new year more than a bottle of triple-filtered Provençale (stylee) pink wine, so pale that it could give tap water a run for its colour money. Not that everything is rosy either. Consider also the spritz. Txakoli sales are booming because who doesn’t want a beaker of Biscayan fermented sea spray in the form of a green-tinted spritzer?
In trendy natty wine world, there is a love for the cool things in life. White Burgundy, Jura of all hues, Loire (especially Chenin) and Cab Franc and Savoie. Whither the wines from the Mediterranean regions, the arc from Roussillon to Provence? The wines represent terrific value, but maybe the main thing that both sets them apart from the classic natty vibe is their taste profile. Whites, in particular, struggle unless they are at the house wine end of the spectrum. Oh, and Picpoul, which has been the flavour of the month for a decade. Vermentino? Definitely on the up-and-up (just don’t call it Rolle). Marsanne & Roussanne. But Grenache Blanc & Gris, Clairette, Terret, Macabeu. All the grapes have their own identities, of course, but share garrigue herbal notes, white spices and ripe citrus towards waxiness of texture. Compare to the higher acid wines from more northerly climates.
2020 wine vision ~ nostalgia is the best medicine
Was flicking through my photos of past years deleting the blurry ones (about half of all that I had taken) when I came to 2020, specifically the lockdown period during the pandemic. It was a horrible time for many, but I certainly remember one upside: the glorious weather, week after week of crystalline blue skies, explosive sunsets, and drinking the most amazing wine. I felt the world was taking a break from noisy humanity, in fact, we were taking a break from our lives and from each other. This is entirely personal – if you had to work through the pandemic or loved ones became ill, you will not understandably relate to this. But it made me think that we enjoy wine most when the weather is fabulous (sorry, winter reds) and without noisy distraction. No wine tastings. Happy days. You become grateful for every small mercy.