Winter presents a dilemma for white-wine drinkers. A big oaky Napa Chardonnay is obviously an option. My choice for a winter white would probably be a full-bodied dry Chenin Blanc from the Loire Valley. The problem is big oaky whites are tricky – how much oak, how much fruit, how much do you like the balance?
Dry Chenin Blanc is also tough because of price and selection. Not everyone carries a good selection; even fewer carry them for under $25 per bottle.
Another common dilemma is: I like red, you like white. Two half bottles definitely can work – but what a hassle. Unfortunately, half bottles of really nice wines are not lining up your retailers’ shelves. What’s a girl (or guy) to do?
Enter Michel Torino Malbec Rosé 2011, a really rich and smooth wine that packs a load of acid under the covers. It’s lush, fruity and fun. Whether you do white or red, this is the perfect winter compromise. What makes it work for everyone is that the really high acidity is totally hidden, but does its job nonetheless. It even tastes better very cool than just cool, which should really excite the white-wine drinker in the house.
Generally, the colder the wine is the more obvious the acidity. The warmer the wine is, therefore… Also, cold diminishes aromas and flavors; warmth does the opposite. That’s why wines that should be served “cold,” should really be served cool. Room temperature for reds was a concept developed when rooms were 60F – not the 75-80F we see now.
Obviously then, the Michel Torino Malbec Rosé 2011 has lusher, riper fruit when it’s a bit warmer. I’d say the temperature variance here should be 10 degrees – probably 50-60F. I paired it recently with Chinese spare ribs. The wine is bone dry but it stood up so well to that hint of sweetness in the BBQ sauce (or however you reference it in Chinese cooking).
The finish is absurdly long for a rosé – rich, ripe and lush. It’s sure to blow the mind of that red-wine person you’re constantly butting heads with.
Around this time of year, Wine-Journal usually pitches up with a deluge of Burgundy tasting notes gleaned from two intense weeks tasting “in the field” down in the Cote d’Or, augmented by a flotilla of notes from the merchant tastings that sprout over London before our New Year’s hangovers have barely worn off. This year, I have pulled back from a comprehensive coverage for two reasons: firstly because my colleague Antonio will deliver his report at the end of February and secondly, I have a few more areas to cover.
But having covered Burgundy since 1997 both as a buyer and as a scribe, I felt duty-bound to attend a smattering of the tastings in the capital in order to offer readers on this side of the Atlantic, a concise report complementary to Antonio’s. I focused on growers that I have followed and visited over the years, plus those that caught my eye. I must confess, it was quite a refreshing and liberating not feeling coerced to taste through one hundred wines by the crack of dawn, not that I ever tasted beyond palate fatigue in previous years.
Burgundy continues to hypnotize the soul in a way that other regions can only dream about, and the hype swirling around the 2010 vintage was more clamorous than I could ever remember. Nowadays, every UK wine writer has to be seen in Burgundy. It is a far cry from just a few years ago when hardly any paid much interest. A few long-toothed Burgundy-lovers expressed concern that their beloved Pinots are succumbing to the same fate as Bordeaux i.e. relegated into “chips” for the wealthy to be moved around like stocks and shares. Yet the severe finite supply will always prevent a stable, fluid secondary market from evolving and inevitably stymie speculation. Coupled with this, is the fact that Burgundy collectors covet their prized, irreplaceable bottles like babies, possibly more so. They would not part with them for any amount of money (but do not hesitate in sharing them with others, as numerous off-lines soirees written up on Wine-Journal testify.)
Bordeaux is for showing off.
Burgundy is for sharing.
So whilst I am certain that numerous affluent collectors are circling the 2010s like hungry vultures with one beady eye on the dozen or so blue chip names, they may be about to find that money can buy you a Lear jet, a Piaget watch or a stately home...but not a bottle of Musigny from Christophe Roumier.
I will not go into excessive detail with respect to the growing season; suffice to say that it was the poor fruit set during flowering (millerandange) that was the key moment. Several growers commented that if yields were not naturally slashed early on in the season, the subsequent cool damp months would have wasted the vintage. But with yields down up to 50%, the vintage turned out to be (what d’ya mean you haven’t heard!), a bit of a humdinger at the top end. Louis-Michel Liger-Belair described how the testing growing season amply demonstrated the virtues of the best terroirs i.e. the top premier and grand crus, and that as a consequence, the village cru and generic wines needed severe selection. Therefore, my impression is that 2010 is not as consistent throughout the hierarchy as say, 2005 or even 2009. At the generic rung, sourced from lesser terroirs, the cooler summer inhibited fruit reaching physiological ripeness despite the lower yields. This was born out at a tasting through Louis Jadot red wines where the “lesser” wines were often green and raw, whilst the top climats were far more impressive.
Stylistically, the best red wines remind me of 2008 but with silkier textures and greater complexities. Acidity levels are high compared to 2009 and this led to the leitmotif of “tension” in the wines that felt as if they are about to shatter the glass. The tannins are sometimes chalky or brittle in the mouth and there is often a distinct eschewing of the fleshiness, the corpulence that made 2009s so charming in their youth. Yet you could argue that terroir expression is more evident and there would also seem to be wider variance between climats the previous vintage. The whites are bound to be overshadowed by the red, although I found a lot to admire, particularly from Meursault and Chassagne. Of course, there remains the stigma about premature oxidation that has dented demand and that is always at the back of my mind when advocating such wines that can be like playing Russian roulette with a Riedel. At least the Burgundy winemakers seem no longer in denial but a prognosis seems a long way off.
(Jean-Marie Fourrier, who produced some of his best wines ever in 2010.)
Specialists put out their judgment on the 2010 vintageEric Rousseau, the quiet holder of the reins at the world-famous Domaine Armand Rousseau in Gevrey-Chambertin, is not given to hyperbole. While many in the wine trade are currently touting the unexpectedly high quality of the 2010 vintage in Burgundy, especially those dozens of British wine merchants currently making en primeur offers of it, Rousseau admits that it was by no means clear during the harvest that they were picking something special. “We knew it would be good only after the malolactic fermentations,” he admitted during my tasting last month in his enviably extensive cellars.

For more information Marchesi de Barolo and Wildman wines please contact Odila Galer-Noel at 1-800-RED WINE x911 and visit www.frederickwildman.com.

Erwan Faiveley: 'a new image for Mercurey'
Erwan Faiveley, the head of the major Burgundy producer, said the new building will be ‘one of the most beautiful wineries in Burgundy.’It is being built by Swiss architect Jean-Frédéric Luscher, responsible for the ultra-modern Dominus in Napa, owned by Christian Moeiux, and for Glenelly in South Africa, which belongs to May-Eliane de Lencquesaing, the former owner of Chateau Pichon Lalande in Bordeaux.
The winery, built alongside the existing Faiveley property, Clos l’Évêque in Mercurey, will have capacity for 90ha of grapes, with ten 70h/l oak fermenters. It will be completed in time for the 2013 harvest, Faiveley told Decanter.com.
‘It will bring a new image to Mercurey,’ he said. ‘It will be in the Burgundian style and but will fuse the classic and the modern.’
Faiveley said part of the reason for building the winery was that he and his father François Faiveley had decided to ‘give a new image to our Mercurey holdings and build something brand new.’
The new winery will only be for Faiveley’s 70ha in the Cote Chalonnaise – which Erwan Faiveley intends to increase to 90ha.
‘We have the possibility to plant another 20ha, so we will need more capacity in the future,’ he told Decanter.com.
Domaine Faiveley is one of the biggest producers in Burgundy with 80% of its wines coming from its own vineyards.
The house owns 120ha including 10 Grands Crus in Cote de Nuits and Cote de Beaune and five Monopoles, which include Corton ‘Clos des Cortons Faiveley’ and Beaune 1er Cru Clos de l’Écu.
Occasionally, I actually agree with Robert Parker’s reviews.
Yes, really.
Such as in this case, when it comes to a 10 Year Tawny Port to which RMP Jr. dolled out 94 points, in sharp contrast to many other long-established critical voices who deigned to bestow it a high-80s score, probably because it retails for $33 (and usually less) for a 500 ml bottle.
And at over $25 a bottle, it’s a total bargain.
Yes, really.
This is a Tawny to which you need to devote some time, because it takes a good long while for it to totally unfurl (disrobe?) in your glass, after which it’s gorgeous to behold; gorgeous enough that it’s nearly as good as 30 Year Tawnies I’ve had which cost nearly three time as much.
So, yeah, I’d call that a bargain, even at a price tag over $25.
In another example of extreme positive wine pairing serendipity, I reached into the sample pool and grabbed the Churchills 10 Year Tawny Port on a whim over the holidays, in the hopes that it would match well with pecan pie.
This wine rocked the shizz out of that pecan pie. This wine owned the pecan pie. Hell, this wine is a pecan pie – toasted nuts, sweet dried fruits, spices, a slight sherried note and beautiful balance…
I know that technically speaking this wine could have received a 10 Year Tawny designation even though one could actually have aged this 40 years, or 5 years, so long as the IVDP in Portugal thinks that it tastes like a 10 Year Tawny, but I don’t give a rat’s ass if it was aged seventeen days in the back of someone’s pickup truck in the Douro, this is one hell of a 10 Year Tawny at any price.
So in my view RMP got it totally right, the other guys got it mostly wrong, and… well, there isn’t an “and…” in this case, just don’t get carried away and expect me to agree with all of RMP’s reviews from here on out, okay?
NV Churchills 10 Year Tawny Port (Porto)
Price: $33
Rating: A-One of the highest-“scoring” wines from me for the price, my tasting note on this wine started with “Uhm… WOW. Nailing the definition of 10 year Tawny with Britannica-like precision.” Actually, I think this wine slightly redefined for me how good I should expect 10 Year Tawnies to be, since it compares favorably to 20 and even some 30 Year Tawnies I’ve had. And while I’m not going to apply for a job at the IVDP anytime soon, I’ve had my fair share of Tawnies (hell, of Ports in general) over the last several months and over a few trips to Portugal so the opinion hopefully is at least a semi-educated one.
Bottom line is that this Tawny was good enough to make me want to share the experience with you. As for the pecan pie – it wasn’t homemade, alas, and while Wegmans makes a mean crust (and includes very tasty, sweet whole pecans layered on top), I agree with the cunty jew (that is the actual blog name, so no flaming me on that mention, please!) that you’d fare a whole lot better in my neck of the woods by taking the time to seek out an Amish-made pie instead (over $2 cheaper, and sooooo much tastier – not everything that tastes like pecans and costs a bit more is an actual bargain, it seems)…
Cheers!