Wine Reviews

Editor rating
 
4.0
User rating
 
0.0 (0)
Editor rating
 
3.0
User rating
 
0.0 (0)

Tweets @QuenchByTidings

Featured Recipe

Golf has one for men and one for women; and so does tennis. So why not wine? I’m talking about a world ranking system for grape varieties, white (ladies) and black (men). You could see what wine style is trending and what is losing consumer favour.

If such a league table were to exist there would be two red grapes that would be currently climbing out of obscurity. Both are indigenous Sicilian varieties and both sound like escapees from the Commedia dell’Arte: Nero d’Avola and Nerello Mascalese.

Nero d’Avola translates as “black from Avola,” a town on the southeast coast of the island, not far from Syracuse. Although the grape, the most widely planted red variety in Sicily, was first propagated around Avola, ironically, you won’t find it in this area anymore.

Mark the date December 21, 2012, in your diary or blackberry or whatever you use to remember significant events. It’s a Friday. Mark it because you might not be around to read it the following day. The Mayan Calendar predicts the world will end on that date.

There are people who take this sort of thing very seriously. When I was in the Elqui Valley last January, I was shown a large vineyard in the mountainous northern end of the region, which was owned by a very wealthy landowner. Elqui is a very spiritual place; a shrine for New Agers who believe this beautiful valley will be the only place on Earth that will survive the cataclysm. The rest of the planet will be destroyed. In preparation for the date this landowner has planted, adjacent to his vineyard, a vast acreage of beans so that he and his family will be self-sufficient when the end comes.

Let me change thoughts for a moment, but stay with me because they are related. I go fishing every year somewhere in Northern Canada with five other guys. These trips over the years have become replete with rituals. We each have a wardrobe of fishing t-shirts — the same t-shirts that we wear in rotation on appointed days (rather like the Mayan Calendar). One of them shows two men in a boat with their lines in the water. In the hills behind them there are three mushroom clouds. One of the men says to the other, “Limit’s off.”

In my wine life I find I have reached the tippling point. I no longer hoard my fine wines. I am drinking them. It is not because I have reached an age when I will no longer buy futures of Bordeaux classified growths. Nor was I inspired by a poster I saw in a travel agent’s window: “Fly First Class Or Your Heirs Will.” It’s just that I have a lot of mature wine and I want to make sure that I enjoy it before the whites turn to sherry and the reds become prune juice.

The problem is for the most complete enjoyment of great wines you have to share them with like-minded individuals. For the last 30 years I have been a member of a dinner club called the Saintsbury Society. It was named after George Saintsbury, an Oxford professor of French who wrote a seminal wine book in 1920 entitled Notes on a Cellar Book.

There are, and only have been since it was founded, three members of the Society. We meet in each other’s homes about four times a year. The host cooks the dinner, invites another couple — so we are eight at table — and everyone brings wine of a theme chosen by the host. It could be California Reds, Rhône, Rioja reds, South America, whatever.

With the tidal waves of Chardonnay and Sauvignon Blanc that wash across Canada these days it’s easy to overlook a white wine that is eminently food friendly and priced for value.

I’m talking about Muscadet. The name sounds as if it should taste like a junior version of Muscat, but nothing could be further from Detroit. Muscadet is a brisk white wine with a minerally, floral, citrus flavour that is the perfect partner for oysters specifically and seafood generally.

Muscadet is the largest still white wine appellation in France covering 12,000 hectares at the western end of the Loire Valley. The region produces some 600,000 hectolitres of wine from the Melon de Bourgogne grape. If that suggests to you that its original home was Burgundy, you’d be correct. Melon’s Burgundian origins date back to the beginnings of the 17th century. It became the dominant variety in the Loire after the ferociously cold winter of 1709, which destroyed all the red varieties planted there. The area from Nantes going west is subjected to the vicissitudes of the cold winds that blow off the Atlantic Ocean.

The American Association of Wine Economists is a “non-profit, educational organization dedicated to encouraging and communicating economic research and analyses and exchanging ideas in wine economics.” Twice a year they publish a journal with papers on such learned and sleep-inducing subjects as “Identification of Stochastic Processes for an Estimated Icewine Temperature Hedging Variable” and “Unobserved Heterogeneity in the Wine Market: An Analysis of Sardinian Wine using Mixed Logit.”

But there is nothing like introducing sex into wine to capture this writer’s attention. Recently posted on AAWE’s Web site was a working paper by Mara Squicciarini and Jo Swinnen, two economists at the University of Leuven, entitled “Women or Wine? Monogamy and Alcohol.”

The abstract reads: “Intriguingly, across the world the main social groups which practice polygyny do not consume alcohol. (Editor’s note: polygyny is not a spelling error but the correct term for men with multiple wives.) We investigate whether there is a correlation between alcohol consumption and polygynous/monogamous arrangements, both over time and across cultures. Historically, we find a correlation between the shift from polygyny to monogamy and the growth of alcohol consumption. Cross-culturally we also find that monogamous societies consume more alcohol than polygynous societies in the preindustrial world.”

What Vegemite is to the Aussies, retsina is to the Greeks. Over generations their palates have become acculturated to the taste of resin in their wine. As early as 2700 BC, Greek wine merchants were using the gum of pine trees to seal the porous clay amphorae in which they stored and transported their wines. The resinous flavour infused itself into the wine or, to non-believers, contaminated it.

For the uninitiated the taste descriptor could be an anagram of the name (retsina: nastier); but it is still the most popular wine in Greece, accounting for some 30 per cent of white wine production there. According to Perikles Drakos, the Export Director of Tsantali wines, Greeks drink more white wine than they do red (“It’s rare to see anyone ordering red wine from May to September”) and retsina is the most popular white (“Your friends will say, ‘let’s go out for retsina’”). They will even mix retsina with Coca Cola, says Drakos, to make a popular drink called Toumbo Libre.

While retsina might be the Greeks’ wine of choice it was not readily available in the President Hotel where I stayed in Athens recently. Nor was it on the wine list in a typical country restaurant called Sofos in the town of Nemea, the birthplace of Hercules.

Related Articles