Time for a Carignan rehabilitation

Carignan is probably not a grape variety whose name readily trips off the tongue. It’s not one of the highly regarded, “noble” varieties like Cabernet Sauvignon or Chardonnay. Nor is it, like Pinot Grigio, so ubiquitous that people ask for a glass of it by name in their local gastro pub.

So, a potted biography of Carignan is perhaps in order.

Carignan is mostly found in Languedoc-Roussillon, where it generally forms part of a blend and is rarely seen or its own, or, indeed trumpeted on a front label. It originates, however, in Aragon in northeastern Spain. Back in its native land, it is often known as Mazuelo (or Mazuela in Rioja) or, in Catalonia, Samsó, though you may also see Cariñena (which is also, confusingly, the name of a wine region). Outside France and Spain, you are most likely to come across it in Chile where, thankfully, it is called simply Carignan. There is some in North America, where it has acquired an extra “e” as Carignane.

Carignan has been recorded in southern France since Medieval times, but this longevity has not led to respect and it tends to be labelled a workhorse variety at best. At worst it is derided or even despised. Why?

Carignan needs a long, warm growing season to ripen fully, so it has never spread to cooler parts of France. Its influence in southern France has been waning in recent years, but it was valued by growers, especially up until the latter part of the 20^th century, as a high yielding grape which added colour, alcohol and acidity to otherwise weedy wines.

The Carignan vine is a vigorous grower which will provide high yields, if allowed to, which give a deep coloured, high acid wine that is long on tannin and short on fruit. Sounds good, huh? But, but – lower yielding old vines that have not been irrigated and whose fruit has been treated carefully can give wines with distinct, rich inky black fruit, accompanied by present but pleasant tannins and that acidity gives a freshness that is welcome in wines from a warm climate.

Many Carignan vines have been pulled up in Languedoc-Roussillon, partly encouraged by government vine pull schemes. Those that remain are, increasingly, those older bushvines on better land away from the flat, fertile plains – and they make correspondingly better, increasingly very good, wines.

So, now is the time to discover and rehabilitate Carignan – say its name with pride.

3C, Cariñena 2015 (Spain)- £5.25 The Wine Society

Ignore the hideous label and tuck into the delightlful unoaked Carignan within. There is plenty of juicy black fruit and a lick of tannin that will hit the spot on many a chilly, dark night. You are unlikely to find another red wine that packs so much flavour in at this price.

Les Crouzes, Carignan Vieilles Vignes 2015 - £6.49 Co-op

Despite its ubiquity, it is still rare to find a 100% Carignan wine in the Languedoc. This is the essence of the Midi, where a certain rusticity meets fresh and fruity to great effect.

Torres Cordillera Carignan 2009 (Chile) - £13.99 Taurus Wines, Bramley

This is a brilliant example of Carignan made from old, unirrigated bush vines in the Maule region of Chile. Producers there have now banded together to form the VIGNO project, designed to highlight the wines made from these increasingly rare old (sometimes up to 100 years old) vines. This is full of black, brambly fruit with bay leaf herbal characters and a lipsmacking freshness.

Meet the new, old Chile

Chile has a reputation for being sort of middley – a source of good value, reliable wines that are predictable and safe. Almost uniquely among wine producing countries, its sales are built on exports, rather than domestic consumption, so they have played their hand astutely, making wines with broad international appeal.

Sometimes it can feel all a bit corporate, as if men in suits are the ones in control, deciding which grapes are grown, and where and how the wines are made.

But recently there have been signs that the winemakers themselves are getting restive, tired of turning out glossy, international-style wines that could have been made almost anywhere and that they themselves don’t want to drink. 

This quiet revolution is taking inspiration from the past in the form of the re-discovery and re-evaluation of old plantings of untrendy varieties like Carignan and Païs; a return to picking grapes earlier so that they retain natural freshness and acidity; and eschewing new oak barrels for ageing wines in favour of bigger, older vessels which don’t mask the flavours of the grapes. There is also an impetus forwards to the future of wine, pushing the boundaries of viticulture east up into the Andes, west to cool coastal areas, south towards the ice fields of Patagonia, even north to high altitude sites on the way to the arid Atacama desert.

Where to find the new, old Chile:

Morandé Vigno 2009 - £29.10 from Hedonism Wines

A taste of old vine Carignan from the Maule Valley, a field blend that also incorporates Syrah and Chardonnay, it’s tangy, fresh and alive with flavours of red fruit and dark, rich cocoa. It also won a Silver Outstanding Medal at the IWSC.

Viña Casa Silva Cool Coast Sauvignon Blanc 2014 – around £14-15 from independent merchants including Avery’s and Oxford Wine Company

Zesty, pithy, citrus flavours and a distinct minerality – this is a new style of Chilean Sauvignon from the chilly, Pacific-cooled Paredones vineyard.

Darth Vader winemaking in Chile

If I ask you what comes to mind when I say Chilean wine, what pops into your head? I am betting that excitement, experimentation and risk-taking are not at the top of the list. Perhaps you are thinking more along the lines of reliability, good value and consistency?

If ever I find myself a contestant on Pointless and the category of Chilean wine comes up, I reckon I’ve got that round pretty well sewn up. Never mind that neither occurrence is ever likely to happen.   

But back to the matter in hand. Given my hypothesis viz a viz wine from Chile, what would drive an established producer, with a proven track record of critical and commercial success for their international style wines (for want of a better description) to turn their back on all that? What happened to “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it”? Marcelo Retamal, Iron Maiden-loving winemaker at Chile’s De Martino winery for the past eighteen years, puts it simply: he didn’t enjoy drinking the wines that he was making. They represented what he now calls “the Dark Side”.

 

Marcelo Retamal and some of his large oak foudres

He pinpoints 1998 as a year of change, when the arrival of international winemaking consultants in Chile and demand from international buyers led to a very different approach to winemaking from what had gone before. The trend for soft, sleek and powerful wines meant that grapes were picked later (up to two months later than previously) in order to get super-ripe flavours, which in turn led to the need for routine acidification to correct the low acid levels in such ripe grapes; 100% new oak barrels and selected yeasts became the norm in the winery.

Devotees of this column, should there be any of you, might recall that I wrote about De Martino’s wines back in 2011 when Marcelo Retamal and Sebastian de Martino visited the UK and told the world about their plans for the future. Their 2010 vintages which I sampled then contained tantalising hints of what was to come, but now they have come back to show us the full picture with their 2011 and later wines.

To illustrate his point, Marcelo led a vertical tasting of a Carmenère from De Martino’s Alto de Piedras vineyard in the Maipo Valley.

The 2005 epitomised what Marcelo calls “the Dark Side”: there is plenty of oak and ripe, slightly pruney fruit, but also a swingeing tannic structure, jarring acidity and a lingering flavour of alcohol (which stands at 14.8%). It felt like a wine at war with itself.

In 2010 Marcelo, in partnership with Sebastiàn de Martino, decided that he had had enough of making what he now calls “bad wine”. That meant no more new oak barrels, earlier picking dates, no acidification, use of natural yeasts (that is naturally occurring yeasts which are present all around us and provide, for example, the lift in sourdough bread) and lower alcohol.

The 2011 Alto de Piedras wine illustrated the new thinking. It is light on its feet, with lively fruit and fresh acidity. Alcohol is down to 13.3% and acidity is naturally higher, thanks to earlier picking (20 April compared with 10 May in 2005, some 20 days earlier). The wine is aged in 5,000 litre foudres (huge wooden barrels) instead of new oak barrels holding 225 litres, so the effect of oak on the flavour is minimal. It demonstrates the move towards a more authentic, natural and gastronomic style of wine.

De Martino’s other project is a number of wines fermented and aged in old giant clay amphorae (known as Viejas Tinajas in Chile) from vines grown in the southerly Itata Valley. It may sound wilfully eccentric to use such antique techniques, which would not have looked out of place in ancient Rome, but amphorae (and their modern equivalent, cement “eggs”) are actually becoming, if not commonplace, at least not freakish, in wineries around the world.

Itata is home to some of Chile’s oldest, dry farmed bush vines and the De Martino Viejas Tinajas range comprises a dry white made from Muscat and two reds, one a 100% Cinsault and the other a Carignan/Cinsault blend. Production is not high – only 6,000 bottles of the Cinsault are made – but it could mark the arrival of user friendly Chilean natural wine, with its soft structure and lifted sweet/savoury flavours. 

De Martino wines to try

Gallardia Cinsault Rosé 2013 - £8.95 from The Wine Society, £11.65 from Caves de Pyrène of Guildford

From Itata, but not part of the Viejas Tinajas project, this is a more mainstream, but effortlessly enjoyable wine. It looks and tastes like a classic Provence rosé, with fresh, marine flavours and a gentle finish.

Gallardia Muscat 2012 - £11.65 from Caves de Pyrène

Muscat can be a bit of an in your face variety, with its intensely grapey aromas, which can then seem out of synch with a dry palate. Here, the aromatics are more restrained, with hints of candied fruit. It tastes beautifully fresh and would be a real crowd pleaser (especially if you don’t let on that it’s Muscat, to avoid people like me thinking they won’t like it).

La Aguada Old Vines Field Blend 2011 - £22 from Caves de Pyrène (The Wine Society currently stocks the 2008 for £14.95)

Planting an entire vineyard with a single grape variety is actually quite new technology in many parts of the wine world. It was once common practice to plant a range of varieties together (without necessarily even knowing what those varieties were), though it’s now increasingly rare. This vineyard is predominantly Carignan, usually a despised variety, thought to bring nothing more than colour, alcohol and rusticity to a wine. Old, dry-farmed vines such as this, though, can make wines of real character and depth – and the smattering of Cinsault and Malbec help to give lift and perfume.

What have the Greeks ever done for us?

The poor Greeks have been through the wringer in recent times. I don't know what they have made of the wholly erroneous assertion that the only two words to have come to English from Greek are tragedy and crisis. A cursory glance at the dictionary soon gives the lie to this - abacus, abracadabra, academy and academe, acme, acne, acolyte, acoustic, acrobat, acronym, acrophobia, adenoids – all these words have Greek origins, and, as you can see, I didn't even have to finish the As to come up with this list.

The Greeks, it must be said, are suffering from something of a PR problem. Wine lovers, however, have special reason to be grateful to them, for the Ancient Greeks seem to have been instrumental in bringing grapes and specifically wine-making to most, if not all of the Mediterranean countries. From Sicily and Italy, through to Spain and of course, France, the Greeks feature heavily in the history of vines and wines.

Vines were officially brought to France by the Romans in 125BC to the then island off the south coast of France at La Clape. Ancient Rome was an empire built on bureaucracy as well as brute force and they have left us firm written evidence of their work. The Greeks had probably got as far as the Rhone Valley with their vines well before this date, but failed to record their exploits. Oh dear, that habit of not making official records seems to be a hard one to break...

While modern Italy and Greece may not be flavour of the month with their fellow Eurozone members, we wine drinkers should perhaps remember what to be grateful for. Here are some recommended wines from the Languedoc-Roussillon, that vaste swathe of vine-growing that spreads from the right bank of the River Rhone to the Pyrenees and the border with Spain and the jumping off point for ancient wine growers. The region is something of an economic underdog, with none of the swank and hauteur of Bordeaux. What they lack in flash Châteaux and shiny Mercs though, they make up for in great terroirs and some gifted, committed winemakers – and reasonable prices.

Virgile Joly of Domaine Virgile Joly

Château d'Anglès Blanc Classique 2009 - £10.95 at Slurp.co.uk

This white wine springs from the inhospitable, hump-backed outcrop of limestone that is La Clape (no sniggering at the back), which lies between the ancient Roman port of Narbonne, or Narbo Martius to the first inhabitants, and the sea. Nothing much grows here, except vines, wind-blasted pines and olive trees, as there is no soil to speak of; the Mediterranean sun beats down relentlessly, dazzling as it reflects off the bright white of the limestone; it hardly ever rains and it is always windy. Not too promising a site to make any wine, but especially not white wine you might think.

But there is wonderful freshness in this blend of Grenache blanc, Bourboulenc, Marsanne and Roussanne (the eagle-eyed amongst you will no doubt spot this this is pretty much a recipe for white Châteauneuf-du-Pape, but not at Châteauneuf prices). The aromas are floral and chalky, leading onto a broad-in-the-beam palate of peppery, herbal flavours.

Domaine Virgile Joly Saturne Rouge 2009 – newly-listed at organic specialists Vintage Roots at around £15.50

Virgile Joly is a leading light of organic viticulture down in the Languedoc. You can read about his beginnings as a winemaker in Patrick Moon's very readable memoir, Virgile's Vineyard: a year in the Languedoc wine country. And have a glass of this beside you while you read, a blend of Grenache, Syrah and Carignan plus a little Cinsault. It was aged in concrete tank, so there is no oak to disguise the flavours of the fruit. It's a smooth beast, with the warmth of the south in a hot year – but its minerality gives it freshness and structure. Made from organic grapes, using natural yeasts and minimum amounts of sulphur.

Domaine de Montcalmès 2005 – The Wine Society has the 2004 for £17 or the 2007 for £21. Les Caves de Pyrène at Artington near Guildford has the 2008 for £23.49

This is a classic southern French cocktail of 60% Syrah, with 20% each of Grenache and Mourvèdre – a blend more snappily known as GSM downunder in Australia. Oak-ageing (this has had two years) and that amount of Syrah can dominate a wine, but not here: the damson fruit is fresh and juicy, with savoury notes of tar and spice. It has balance and freshness in abundance.

Mas Amiel Maury 1975 – hard to find in the UK; Caves de Pyrène have the 2009 for £21.49 and Slurp.co.uk £17.95. Closest in style to the 1975 would be the 15 year old Prestige, £23.50 from Lea & Sandeman

Oft overlooked treasures of Roussillon, in the foothills of the Pyrenees, are the aged fortified wines of Maury, Banyuls and Collioure. This one started its life in the same way as Port – that is the fermentation was brought to a premature halt by adding grape spirit, resulting in a wine that still has some sweetness, plus high alcohol. But thereafter comes a quirk: ageing in glass demijohns, which are left outside, exposed to the sun's light and heat, as well the huge differences in temperature between day and night. A year of this seemingly foolhardy treatment oxidises the wine quite thoroughly; normally a disaster for dry wines, it is the making of these “vins doux naturels”. After the demijohns the wine is put in to large, very old oak casks to age further – in this case a further 26 years. These wines have a unique “rancio” character, which sounds bad but means a delicious tangy array of flavours including figs, dates, butterscotch, orange marmalade and nuts. In short, yum.