Bordeaux rising

Bordeaux is a gargantuan wine region, its annual production of 5.5 million hectolitres accounting for over a quarter of France’s total. It is home to some of the most famous, prestigious and highly-valued wines in the world – but these wines account for less than 5% of the total.

What of the other 95%? A good deal of it is rather thin, weedy red wine that is made and sold cheaply. In between these two extremes, however, are winemakers struggling to make a living by making the best wine they can from their vines, in the face of prices that are pegged back by those lowest common denominator wines. The stratospheric, to merely high, prices of the top wines may feel geographically close, yet they are out of reach for these producers.

Could white wine be a brighter future for Bordeaux’s “squeezed middle”? It might at least be part of it. While a dampish, maritime climate like Bordeaux’s can struggle to ripen red grapes each year, it poses less of a problem for faster ripening white varieties.

So, Sauvignon Blanc, Sancerre and even white Burgundy fans, pin back thy lugs, as what follows could be of interest to you.

Bordeaux’s whites are predominantly based on Sauvignon Blanc, sometimes with a little of that under-rated but quality variety, Semillon too. The part of Bordeaux known as Entre-Deux-Mers (literally “between two seas” though the seas in question are actually the Garonne and Dordogne rivers) nowadays produces rather too much so-so red wine, which accounts for much of the everyday Bordeaux  and Bordeaux Superieur that we see on supermarket shelves. But it is also still home to some white grapes, predominantly Sauvignon Blanc.

West of there, south of Bordeaux, the Graves area has long been famous for both its red and white wines. Since 1987, the northern part of Graves was sliced off to be known as Pessac-Léognan, which is now home to Bordeaux’s most prestigious dry white wines.

Calvet Réserve Sauvignon Blanc 2015 - £8.99 at Waitrose (down to £6.74 until 11 October)

This wine, along with Dourthe No 1 (£8.50 from The Wine Society), makes a great case for Bordeaux’s ability to make fresh, zippy and appealing – but not green or underripe – Sauvignon Blanc at a sensible price. Both these négociant winemakers will choose parcels of wine from across the region to contribute to their blend, in order to get the flavour profile they want. These light styles are perfect on their own or are made for lighter seafood dishes like mussels, oysters, simply served crab and delicate fish dishes. See also Marks & Spencer’s own Bordeaux Sauvignon Blanc 2015 (£8.50), sourced from Entre-Deux-Mers. It is understated enough not to fight with whatever’s on your plate, but delivers spritzy, lemon zest fruit and a nicely textured palate.

Laithwaite’s Sauvignon Blanc 2015 - £9.99 from Laithwaites

This wine is made from parcels of vines in the Entre-Deux-Mers and has the fresh, citrus flavour of the Calvet, but also a more delicate elderflower aroma and a touch of savoury, leesiness on the palate. This could stand up to more full flavoured dishes like roasted cod or possibly scallops.

Château Bouscaut Blanc 2009, Péssac-Léognan - £31 from The Wine Society

Here’s why the wines of Pessac-Léognan are so valued – they develop beautifully with age and deliver rich complexity combining lime acidity combined with toast and hay. This is a blend of 55% Sauvignon Blanc and 45% Semillon that has been fermented aged in oak barrels, contributing texture and an extra flavour dimension to the wine. As well as rich seafood dishes like shrimp and lobster, this would be knockout with Christmas dinner. This one is for you, white Burgundy lovers.

From bags to Bordeaux - a chat with Frédérique Dutheillet de Lamothe of Cru Bourgeois

The French Appellation Contrôlée system is famously based on guaranteeing the geographical origin of a wine, rather than focusing on the quality of what is actually in the bottle – something that causes a headache for those who are trying to sell French wine and the consumers who wonder what the difference is between a bottle of Bordeaux at £4 and one at £24.

Six years ago, the châteaux who were members of the then rather moribund Cru Bourgeois classification of the Médoc decided to break with tradition and to let their wines stand or fall on the basis of an objective measure of the wines’ quality.

Frédérique Dutheillet de Lamothe was in London recently to help spread the word about the Bordeaux classification that is unlike any other. With her background working for Tom Ford at Gucci, she knows a thing or two about building and protecting a brand.

The term Cru Bourgeois has been around for many years, but its new incarnation began with the official selection from the 2008 vintage. The latest selection, from the 2011 vintage, was published in September 2013. All independent châteaux in the Médoc are elegible to participate from the eight appellations of Médoc, Haut-Médoc, Listrac-Médoc, Moulis, Margaux, Pauillac, Saint Julien and Saint-Estèphe.

Whereas the appellation rules guarantee the geographic origin of a wine, Cru Bourgeois is a measure of a wine’s quality. Cru Bourgeois acts as an overlay to the existing Appellations, rather than attempting to replace them.

In 2011 256 producers were selected as Crus Bourgeois out of a total of 350, representing annual production of 28 million bottles, which is around 30% of total Médoc production. The average price of a bottle of Cru Bourgeois is £17, with prices ranging from around £10 up to £47.

The truly radical aspect of the new Cru Bourgeois is the way wines are awarded the right to use the name. Under the old system, if your château was lucky enough to have been classified as Cru Bourgeois, bingo – you had the right to use the name, year in year out, regardless of the quality of what was being produced. Now, in the new Cru Bourgeois system an annual blind tasting by a group of professional tasters is what determines the ability of a château to use the name.

Each year producers have to maintain quality levels in order to be awarded Cru Bourgeois. There is no automatic qualification based on previous years’ performance and no grace period to regain form after a dip.

Feedback from retailers, at least in France, is that they have seen a huge rise in quality in the short time that the new system has been operating. The number of Cru Bourgeois with distribution in the US has risen by 25% in the past year and around 40% of Cru Bourgeois have a retail presence in the UK.

So far so good – but how many of you, as wine consumers, are aware of the Cru Bourgeois system? Here Frédérique has a job on her hands, “The term Cru Bourgeois has been in existence for many years, but has been something of a sleeping giant. Our job is to reawaken it in the consumer’s mind.” she says.  Without an unlimited marketing budget, it’s difficult to reach out to every consumer. However, social media is a key part of any brand’s marketing mix nowadays, allowing them to connect directly with the public: they use QR codes on the Cru Bourgeois bottle sticker, for example, which links to information specific to the particular château.

There used to be around 500 Crus Bourgeois under the old system, so the current crop of just over 250 represents a significant pruning of dead wood. And 250 may still sound like a lot (and it is), but when you think that there are around 8,000 châteaux in the whole Bordeaux area, it does help to sort the wheat from the chaff. We often forget just how big a wine producing region Bordeaux is – it produces more wine each year than many countries do.

Frédérique’s previous experience at Gucci means she has a deep understanding of how to manage a brand. As she puts it “We treat the Cru Bourgeois name as a brand and take care to reinforce use of the logo, ensuring it is always used on bottles, at events and in all our communications. 25-30 million bottles of Cru Bourgeois are produced each year – and each bottle is a marketing tool. Our name can help consumers to choose from the vast array of wines on the shelf, providing confidence in the quality of wines from some of the world’s most famous appellations.”

Bordeaux is experiencing its fair share of wine woes. There is still too much poor quality, dull stuff produced at the cheaper end of the market, dragging down the reputation of Bordeaux with it. At the other end of the scale, the internationally successful classed growth châteaux and stars of Pomerol and St Emilion have seen their prices rise beyond the reach of many traditional claret drinkers. In the middle sits Cru Bourgeois, hoping to appeal to disillusioned classed growth buyers who are trading down and to newer Bordeaux drinkers who are able to trade up from the stubbornly low amount (still around £5) that we are prepared to pay for a bottle of wine in the UK.

Cru Bourgeois picks from the current 2011 selection:

Château Mongravey Margaux 2011 – around £20 from 3D wines

This is nicely defined, with sweet, ripe and juicy fruit from Margaux, renowned for producing the Médoc’s most charming and “feminine” wines. Call me shallow, but I find the name irrestistible too.

Château Beaumont 2011 - £18-20 from The Wine Society, Justerini & Brooks

Haut-Médoc’s wines can be some of the most traditional claret; traditionalists will not be disappointed with this wine of classic Bordeaux proportions, present tannins and fresh fruit. As you would expect, this will mellow over the next five years and promises plenty of enjoyment to come.  

Bordeaux - it's big, but is it clever?

Bordeaux must be the world’s most high profile wine region.  Even someone with only the most sketchy wine knowledge would surely be able to name Bordeaux as somewhere that makes wine.

It’s certainly big, turning out a greater volume of wine than almost any region of France, except the vast swathe of vineyard in Languedoc-Roussillon to the south.  In terms of quality, it is both big and beautiful, as the largest fine wine region in the world.

The region is so big, in fact, that there is not a single classification that covers all of its vineyards.  Additionally, the various classifications that exist – and there are five – relate to only around 5% of the total volume of wine produced in Bordeaux.  The best known classification is that dating from 1855, when 4 Châteaux were designated as Premier Cru (or First Growth), and so on down to Fifth Growth.  The original First Growths were Châteaux Latour, Lafite-Rothschild, Margaux and Haut-Brion.  This classification has remained unchanged, save for the elevation of Mouton-Rothschild from Second to First Growth in 1973.

Poster at Château Haut-Bailly, depicting itself alongside Bordeaux's "grands vins"

The original list of growths was governed by the price commanded by the various Châteaux, rather than an attempt to assess their relative quality.  As far as the First Growths go, their ability to command the highest prices still holds true today.  However, further down the ranking, things become more complex:  there is a semi-official category of “Super Second” Growths, who have the ambition – and, they argue – the quality to put themselves on a par with the First Growths.  Cos d’Estournel is the most famous (or possibly infamous) example.

At the other end of the scale are Châteaux who cling to their ranking in the 1855 classification, yet the quality of whose wines now clearly does not live up to their historic billing.  It would be ungenerous of me to give any examples but, as ever in Bordeaux, price is the best indicator of perceived quality.

If you are wondering what the other four classifications of Bordeaux are, they are: Cru Classé de Graves, Grand Cru Classé de St Emilion, and Crus Bourgeois and Crus Artisans in the Médoc.  Unlike the 1855 classification, most of the others have attempted, some with more success than others, to update their rankings.  St Emilion has been mired in an attempt to re-organize its classification since it published a revision in 2009.  Legal challenges meant that this 2009 version was never fully implemented and a further revision, published in 2012 has, quelle surprise, itself in turn been challenged in the courts by properties facing demotion.  The removal of a “Premier” from a “Grand Cru Classé” may seem a minor change, but it could have dire consequences on the price the wine can fetch, not to mention the career prospects of the winemaker involved.

Château Cheval Blanc - St Emilion Premier Grand Cru Classé "A" (awaiting an A* perhaps)

I had often wondered why the Bordelais hadn’t instigated a single classification for the whole region, but I think this legal tussle in St Emilion has provided the answer:  there is no way that it could be successfully done in a way that wouldn’t provoke mass law suits and boycotts.  The famously never-classified vineyards of Pomerol, including “First Growth in all but name” Petrus, would surely resist any attempt to include them, as they have done very nicely, thank you, without any classification.  Lawyers in the region might be the only people to relish the prospect.

Concrete vats at Cheval Blanc's new winery - they aren't curvy on the inside

But, leaving aside all this high falutin’ wine that most of us will drink rarely, if at all; the kind of Bordeaux that we see most often has no more grand classification than the standard Bordeaux AC, or Bordeaux Supérieur AC.  The Supérieur version, incidentally, is merely higher in alcohol than its generic Bordeaux sibling.  Together they account for around half of all Bordeaux produced.  If you take a look at any bottle of claret on a wine merchant’s or supermarket’s shelves at under £10, this is what you are likely to find.

Château de Sours - ambitious winemaking in the low profile Entre-Deux-Mers area

The frustration (but also the joy, for those in the know) is that this huge category covers a vast range of wine quality.  While judging a good number of generic red Bordeaux at one of the major wine competitions this year, I was struck that many of the wines, probably at the lower end of the price range, felt like exercises in problem solving, with under-ripeness and cheap oak featuring too often.

The bad news is that Bordeaux is too big and still produces too much wine that fails to please, or even to find a market in the first place.  Especially in patchy vintages like 2012, many lower-priced Bordeaux won’t be much fun to drink.

 

Haut-Bailly - a Grand Cru Classé de Graves

Is there good news?  In a word, yes.  Overall, quality has never been higher as those winemakers who manage to flourish are forced to up their game in the face of falling domestic wine consumption and competition from the New World in export markets.  Bordeaux, above rock-bottom prices, can be a source of good quality wines for everyday, not just collectors’ items and investment vehicles.

A useful resource to help you separate the wheat from the chaff is an annual selection based on blind tasting to choose the best Bordeaux wines that offer great value between £6 and £20 a bottle, selected by a panel of experienced tasters and educators.  You can browse the selection here:  http://www.bordeaux.com/uk/wines/selection.  Happy hunting.

Cheval Blanc: the making of a thoroughbred

Warning:  arcane French wine labelling discussion alert.

In the rather stolid rubric of the St Emilion wine classification system, Château Cheval Blanc is a Premier Grand Cru Classé A.  Some French regions have Grand Cru as the very top of the quality tree; over in the Médoc in Bordeaux’s left bank, it is the five Premiers Crus who reign supreme.  In St Emilion, however, it looks as though a committee of strong-minded people couldn’t agree which way to jump and so went for both.  Then, because so many producers ended up being given the highest accolade of Premier Grand Cru Classé, they had to divide this top tier into the very top producers, of which Cheval Blanc is one of four, who are awarded an A rather than an ignominious B, to round off their official nomenclature. 

There are 14 Châteaux on the Premier Grand Cru Classé rung of the quality ladder, with another 64 properties at the next level down, Grand Cru Classé.  If you are sipping a bottle of red Burgundy labelled Grand Cru Classé, your nose (if not your wallet) should tell you that you are at the top of the tree, quality-wise.  But if you find the same thing on the label of your St Emilion, then  you are not supping such rarified nectar (and have not happened on the bargain of the century either).

If you, probably very wisely, skipped over those first couple of paragraphs, here’s a quick summary:  Château Cheval Blanc is a bit special.

Like most St Emilion producers, their wines are made from a blend of Merlot and Cabernet Franc – but unlike most of their neighbours, they have no limestone in their soils.  Instead they have plots with a mosaic of soils based on sand, gravel and clay – in this they have more in common with their near neighbours in Pomerol.

Cheval Blanc’s vineyards are made up of slightly more Cabernet Franc (58%) than Merlot, which accounts for the remainder.   This high proportion of Cabernet Franc also sets them apart from most of their St Emilion cohort, where Merlot tends to take the lead role.

Now, you might think that it was a pretty straightforward task to blend just two varieties to make a wine, but of course it rarely is.  

At Cheval Blanc grapes can end up in one of four destinations – as part of the “grand vin” Cheval Blanc; second wine, Le Petit Cheval; their 3^rd wine or, finally, sold off in bulk to be subsumed into generic St Emilion wines.

Château Cheval Blanc covers 39 hectares (that’s around 100 acres) and is made up of 44 different plots, each of which represents one of the two grape varieties, growing on one of three soil types:  sand, gravel or clay.  At a recent tasting in London, guided by Pierre-Olivier Clouet, the impossibly youthful-looking Technical Manager at the Château, I was able to taste samples from the different parcels from the 2012 vintage:  Merlot and Cabernet Franc from each of three soil types.  Now these wines are a long way from being finished and still have another year or so to age in barrel before their final fate is decided, from grand vin to bulk sell-off, so we were not really getting a sneaky peek at Cheval Blanc 2012 – but it did sort of feel that way.

It was instructive to taste how the same grape variety can perform so differently on the different soils.  Merlot grown on sand is earthy and metallic with a touch of green stalkiness.  Yet on clay and gravel soils that unripe, green note disappears and there is a rush of ripe berry fruits instead.  Cabernet Franc followed the same pattern, with the sandy soils producing the poorest wine, and clay proving to be the perfect growing medium.

Before we moved on, I couldn’t resist having a go at blending my own Cheval Blanc 2012 – the core being Cabernet Franc grown on clay, plus a proportion on gravel, with Merlot from clay soil completing the picture.  Pretty delicious I thought – I wonder if I’ll get the chance to compare it with the real thing?  Of course my slapdash sloshing of wines from one glass to another is a world away from the minute deliberations that actually determine the final make-up of the wines.  Pierre-Oliver told us that they have never made a perfect blend of Cheval Blanc, showing what a complex mixture of art and science go into the blending process.

Having looked at the bones of an as-yet-to-be-born wine, we then went on to taste the final result from previous vintages of Cheval Blanc and second wine Le Petit Cheval.  We were comparing wines from 2004 (a cool and wet vintage) with 2010 (a cool and dry one).  Incidentally it’s good to know that it isn’t just the UK that has had so much lacklustre weather in recent years.  I digress.

Le Petit Cheval 2004 was a beguiling wine, its tannins beginning to soften at nine years old.  Cheval Blanc from the same year was more imposing, with a solidly built structure underpinning the fruit, obviously a wine with a long future ahead of it.

The 2010 wines are clearly close to Pierre-Olivier’s heart and show great freshness and elegance, but it would be a crime to drink them any time soon.

And if you would like to squirrel a few bottles away for some special occasion in the future, what will they set you back?  It is both a blessing and a curse of those in the wine trade that we are often treated to tastings of wines which we could never afford to drink (or at least I couldn’t).  Deep pockets are required in this game:  Cheval Blanc 2010 is available for upwards of £750 a bottle.  My favourite wine from the tasting for current drinking, Le Petit Cheval 2004 is a snip at around £120.

I returned home and came down to earth with a bump and a glass of a 10 quid Argentinian red – very delicious it was too.

From Bordeaux to Burpham: Neal Martin

“Kraftwerk,” says Neal Martin, “I’m going to see them.” in reply to my question of which live band he’s going to see next.  No big surprise there, perhaps, as the series of concerts by the Teutonic techno pioneers at Tate Modern has created an excited ruffle of feathers among (mostly, it must be said) men of a certain age.

As a regular-looking bloke of a certain age, Neal may pass unremarked by Guildford residents on his way up the High Street on a head-down bitterly cold day, but his is one of the most well-known faces in the wine business.  He the UK contributor to The Wine Advocate, creation of the world’s most famous, arguably the most powerful, wine critic of them all:  Robert Parker.  And he lives in Guildford.

He has been here for over five years now and, in between trips to London to be wined and dined at Michelin-starred restaurants (that’s all wine critics do, right?) he has written his first book, a hefty tome on Pomerol. 

Pomerol, the place, is something of an enigma.  Geographically it is firmly embedded within Bordeaux, but it is somehow not of it.  Textbooks usually slot it in alongside its neighbours, the other appellations of the Right Bank, such as Saint Emilion.  Merlot is the lead variety, with Cabernet Franc most often seen in the “Best Supporting Actor” role. But Pomerol doesn’t play the wider Bordeaux game – there is famously no classification here, no official attempt to grade the relative quality of the many, mostly tiny, producers.  The area is small, with little in the way of geographical features to delineate it, no palatial Châteaux worthy of the name – easy to overlook, hard to grasp.

And yet Pomerol is home to Petrus, Bordeaux wine royalty, a First Growth in all but name, and among the most expensive wines in the world – a bottle of the 1982 is currently £6,900 from Berry Brothers. Though as my 9-year-old son was quick to point out, it’s “much cheaper” to buy by the case of 12 bottles, which is a mere £68,427.36.  Good mental arithmetic there, son.  So there must be something special about the place, something that will reward digging deeper.

Neal Martin has spent much of the past three years of his life digging deeper into the soils, vineyards and lives of the vignerons of the area.  And what kind of book is Pomerol?  Thorough, comprehensive, informative:  you’ll find details on proportions of Merlot planted, size of vineyard holding and vinification techniques as you might expect.  But it’s also personal, sometimes fanciful and often entertaining. Throughout you are reminded that this is a book that could never have been written by committee – Neal’s voice is ever present, describing not just the vineyards and their wines, but telling us of his best ever goal at football (aged 9), or his fondness for KFC (yes the Colonel’s finest).  His focus on the people behind the wines reminds us that the human element is what makes places – and wines – special.  Do not go looking for scores out of 100 here.

Music is, as you might have gathered, important to Neal and he peppers his narratives with mentions of the songs he was listening to on his many visits to the area.  In fact, he has even produced a soundtrack (available on Youtube:  search for Pomerol soundtrack) of songs matched to each winery featured in the book, and more, so that you can listen along as you read.

We are not the same people as our parents or grandparents, but much wine writing doesn’t seem to recognize that fact and has a preserved in aspic feel.  This book, however, feels like it’s written by somebody alive and in the world now, someone we can recognize as one of us, who grew up doing the same things we did, informed by popular culture as we were. 

So although Pomerol is meticulously researched and written by someone who clearly has spent more time tasting the kind of rarified (and just plain rare) wines than most of us will ever do, it retains a personality, never straying into textbook territory.  Neal told me that he likes to read with a dictionary by his side – and it shows, as I had to fetch mine from the kitchen shelf a few times to check definitions.  His writing is lively and idiosyncratic, honed over his years as an online writer of his own blog, winejournal.com.

Neal has self-published Pomerol, meaning that he has been (and continues to be) fully involved at every stage of the book’s production, from the photography to the design and even the paper that it’s printed on.  His lack of a budget to pay a cartographer to produce maps for the book was turned, by a stroke of genius, to his advantage.  Instead Neal spent a fiver on a sketchbook and some pencils in WHSmith and asked the winemakers to hand draw maps of their estates.  The maps add to the handmade feel of the book and it’s a ruse that I fully expect to see turning up in other wine books in future.

Neal was even there when the book was coming off the printing presses, signing off pages.  At the same time, the adjacent press was printing copies of Pippa Middleton’s learned tome, Celebrate – though apparently Ms Middleton herself was not there checking progress. And something tells me she didn’t deliberate over the type of paper it was printed on either.

Pomerol costs £50 and is available from http://www.pomerolbook.com/ - or from Neal’s front door. 

US Presidential Election 2012 - and the winner is...

This is not a prediction of the outcome of the election, but the result of an entirely unscientific wine-based version of it, conducted by me here in Surrey with an electorate of just 80 people.

The “candidates” were all bottles of wine, their identities concealed; our electoral college, all members of wine groups belonging to the Fetcham University of the Third Age (U3A).  The voters were equipped with a wine glass, a ballot paper, their noses and tastebuds.

The tasters warmed up with a glass of something cold, pink and sparkling, then the first of the four wine “candidates” was poured.  At this stage of the campaign, all the voters had to do was to choose their favourite two wines and to vote for them, via the usual one person one vote method in a secret(ish) vote.  We were keen to uphold democratic principles.

Instead of the battle buses, debates and TV adverts, the candidates could use only what was in the bottle to get their message across.  We tasted each wine in turn and assessed their relative merits in terms of body, backbone, intensity, character, persistence and so on.  Good qualities for wines, but also, perhaps for those bidding for high office in one of the most powerful nations on earth.

Once all four wines had been tasted, our electorate cast their votes on their ballot papers which were collected in.  While the voters then tucked into a buffet supper, the tellers counted the votes and determined the result of our own version of the US Presidential Election.

When all the votes had been counted, one candidate emerged as a clear winner, thereby taking the President slot.  Second place was closer, with just a single vote separating the two wines competing for Vice President.  The final candidate was adrift by some distance.

Once the two winning wines had been announced, voters were given the kind of information you would expect at a wine-tasting – that is, what wines had they actually been tasting?  I think it’s fair to say that there was something of a surprise amongst the electorate that the cheapest two wines in the line-up had received the most votes.

  

This speaks volumes for the value for money and drinkability of the wines in question.  Out in front was The Winery of Good Hope Shiraz 2011, from South Africa and £7.25 from The Wine Society.  Voters responded to its lively spice-tinged fruit, depth of flavour and balance.

In second place came a white wine from the Abruzzo region of Italy.  The Contesa Pecorino 2011 (£8.95, also The Wine Society) had appealing pear fruit and juicy acidity.

These two wines managed to trump their much more expensive rivals.  

Château Mont-Redon Châteaneuf-du-Pape 2010 (£18.50, The Wine Society) was undoubtedly a well-made and good quality white (yes white Châteauneuf exists), but its relatively subtle fruit and understated charms failed to woo voters.  Fighting hard for second place, but ultimately falling short was Château Picque Caillou 2005, from Pessac-Léognan in Bordeaux (£18, The Wine Society).  Many loved its rich aromas of spiced red fruit and chocolate, but were less charmed by its angular body and dry finish.

What does this, perhaps shock, result show us?  Blind tasting puts wines on an equal footing and each one has to stand or fall on how it comes across to the taster – or voter – on the night.  If the wines had not been tasted blind, would the results have been any different?  I certainly think so.  We can’t help but be swayed by knowing what’s in the bottle, for good or bad.  A look at the label is worth a thousand sniffs, goes the saying.

So much for the wine tasting results.  I have promised you a wine election to mirror the US Presidential one.  Each of the wines tasted equated to a Presidential or Vice Presidential candidate in my mind – any guesses as to who is which?  Some lateral thinking is required!

The most straightforward one was, I think, the winner – the Winery of Good Hope Shiraz equated to Barack Obama.  It references the African origins of his Kenyan father, as well as Obama’s political tome The Audacity of Hope.

The formidable white Châteauneuf-du-Pape was intended to represent Vice President Joe Biden.  The wine’s name translates as the new palace of the Pope and Mr Biden is a notable Catholic.  Told you lateral thinking was required.

The third placed red Bordeaux represented Mitt Romney.  How so?  Romney’s Mormon faith is well documented and adherents often serve as missionaries in locations around the world for two years in their youth.  Romney’s mission took place in 1968 in Bordeaux – et voilà.

If you’ve been paying attention then you’ll know that Paul Ryan, Republican nominee for Vice President, must somehow be symbolised by an Italian white wine made from the Pecorino grape.  As well as being the name of a grape variety, Pecorino is also a type of cheese.  Paul Ryan is a native of, and still lives in, the state of Wisconsin, which makes so much cheese that its residents are colloquially known as cheeseheads.  Easy when you know I suppose.

So, in our entirely spurious election, Barack Obama was convincingly re-elected as President.  If this does come to pass then I will be the first to take the credit.

Rather more problematic is the election as Vice President of Paul Ryan to serve alongside him.  I’m not an expert on the American electoral system but, as far as I know, this would be unlikely, not to say impossible.  But if they can elect Ronald Reagan as President (twice), then never say never.

Grouse-ing about wine

Last Sunday was the Glorious Twelfth, when the grouse shooting season opens.

I don’t know about you, but the closest I’ve come to a live grouse is when picking up a bottle of a certain brand of Scotch whisky.

The red grouse, the bird in question, is native to the British Isles and can legally be shot from now until 10^th December.  As young heather forms an essential part of the grouse’s diet, the hunting takes place predominantly on the heather-rich moors found in the north of England and in Scotland.  Unlike pheasant, which are commercially reared in huge numbers, grouse are truly wild birds, whose population will vary from year to year, hence they are harder to come by.  Additionally they are apparently fast and unpredictable flyers, making them the ultimate challenge for a game bird shooter.

A day’s grouse shooting is not a pleasure that everyman (or woman) can indulge, with the cost involved making it primarily a rich man’s game.  If you wanted to go shooting a few brace this week, you could be looking at in excess of £20,000 per person for a day. 

Having your own grouse moor is, of course, one way to ensure access to a few days’ shooting.  A brief perusal of Country Life a few years ago enlightened me on the importance of such things in upper class mating rituals:  apparently a key question when assessing a potential bride was, “How many acres of grouse moor does she come with?” 

And what wine to serve with your bird?

If you are heading north to bag a few dozen brace of grouse yourself, then clearly money is no object and you will doubtless be plucking a fine mature Burgundy or 1982 claret laid down by your father in your capacious wine cellar.  Or you’d get the butler to get it for you, obviously.

If, on the other hand, you have more modest means, there are plenty of restaurants who will be serving up special grouse and other game menus from now on.  Grouse is the first game to come into season, but will be joined by partridge in September and woodcock and pheasant from October.  A game dealer advised me that the best way to enjoy grouse is when someone else has cooked it for you - sound advice that will resonate with many a cook.

Buying from a game dealer will cost you around £10-12 per bird for grouse around now, with prices dropping as the season progresses.  Remember they are small creatures and you need to allow one per person.

And to drink:

The traditional match for anything labelled game is red Burgundy.  Pinot Noir, the red grape of Burgundy, develops what are politely called gamey (sometimes even farmyardy) aromas as it ages.  It is also relatively low in tannin and light in colour, making it a good match for game, which falls somewhere between the traditional white and red meat divisions.

All game is not identical of course and even the same species will taste different as the season progresses.  A young grouse shot in August with little or no hanging time is going to be a very different beast to one you eat later in the Autumn.  The older bird will have more flavour, but also be more chewy.  Similarly, young pheasants are tender enough to make suitable roasting birds early on, but by the time you’ve got to Christmas, a slow-cooked stew is the best option.

If you have access to mature Burgundy or claret, then I would heartily recommend uncorking it with your game.  If not, then try one of these:

Beaujolais

Beaujolais-Villages, Château de Souzy 2010/11 - £10.70 from slurp.co.uk

If the sun is still shining when you tuck in to your game, then a lightly chilled Beaujolais, made from the Gamay grape, could be just the ticket.  Get hold of the 2011 if you can:  a hint of savoury animality along with juicy, cranberry fruit and a hint of bitterness give a palate-cleansing feel to the finish.

Côtes du Rhône

Les Dauphins Côtes du Rhône-Villages 2011 - £7.99 from Waitrose

Southern Rhône reds have the right combination of peppery, weighty dark fruit and a herbal dimension to get along nicely with game – roast pheasant would be fine with this.  This one also has a definite mineral grip to give the palate a wash and brush up between mouthfuls.

Claret

Diane de Belgrave Haut-Médoc 2008 - £15 from Oddbins

Not a 1982 classed growth, but a charming and refined claret that is just beginning to show some maturity.  Enticing aromas of blackcurrant, plum and pencil shavings (enticing to me anyway) lead onto a smooth palate of dense black fruit with a hint of twiggy bramble.  The tannins in this are a definite step up from the previous two, making it a match for later season game birds or the darker meat of wood pigeon, which is always in season, as it’s regarded as a pest.