Small things in a great way.

"If you cannot do great things, do small things in a great way."

Napoleon Hill

Not so much a small thing but a huge iceberg in the forefront of my recent wine consciousness. Small Change Wines White blend is done in a great way. Screw cap, no frills packaging hides something very special within. Verdelho. Heard of that? I had, but only really to that extent. Famed for it's Madeiras, this grape rarely finds it's way into table wine. I'm so glad it did in this case.

On the nose it reflects somewhat of an unoaked chardonnay character. Lime notes and a kind of tropicality dominate. I would have spent more time thinking bout the nose, but the first nose full was so inviting I just couldn't hold myself back from drinking the thing.

The palate and mouth-feel are a revelation. Smooth succulent fruit and a rich floral character. Citrus, pineapple and passion fruit all delivered in a weighty and satisfying body that complemented the Sea Bream and Parmesan dish for dinner. Perfectly judged acidity and and a long fatty finish with ginger. There were definitely things here that reminded me of high quality Chardonnay. Then there were times when it reminded me of a warm vintage in Alsace. 
Rhys Howlett and Andrew Schonfeldt at Small Change Wines deserve a hearty pat on the back for this effort. This bottle was imported to Japan as a sample, I wish I could tell you where to get some more. Perhaps it's not too early to write a letter to Santa.

Blood and steel

Regular readers will know that I have a few predilections in the world of wine. One of them is bit part Bordeaux grapes. I hope to have some top quality Petite Verdot for you in the next few weeks but in the meantime I thought I'd try this.

 

Chinon Beuvez Toujours Vieilles Vignes was on sale in the basement of Isetan in Kyoto station. 100% Cabernet Franc and made from the 2011 vintage, this wine is the base of this producer's offerings. I wasn't expecting much more than an interesting time when getting my nose into this one. First I picked up some bitter tannins so descriptive of under ripe vintages but secondly I found some fruit. Not a cascade of juice by any means but a restrained blueberry and something more readily identified with white wines. Zest. There was definitely a citrus zest component to the nose. It certainly refocused me on this Chinon.

First impressions on the palate were good. Structural for a light wine, there is a definite beginning, middle and end to this. Hard as nails first up, with an astringent iron tannin. Food wine, of course. Mid palate was where the blue fruits were. Not full frontal (and this wine could definitely do with more) by any means, These blueberries were tart and short, soon giving way to to a gentle citrus zest acid/bitter combination. Lemon? No. Lime? No. The closest I could think of was peel from mixed fruit marmalade.

Short finish, but one where the what remained of the tannin made itself known. Surprisingly fine for a wine at this price point, but not really good enough to lift this wine above the level of acceptable competence.

Interesting drop but wine geeks only need apply.

The Wines of Yamaya. Part 3: Antonin Rodet Mercurey 2009

Get in! A great value bottle of burgundy from our friends at Yamaya. I picked this up for around 3000 yen at the Karasuma branch and I was pleasently surprised.

Mercurey is the most famous appellation on the Côte Chalonnaise, beating out Rully on production of red wine by some margin, so I had serious doubts whether a large negociant like Antonin Rodet could produce quality at this price point.

On first pouring this is definitely on the richer side for Bourgogne. A dense red colour. With a very broad, fat nose of red fruit. Both fresh and dried fruit are here. Classic cherry, pommegranite and fruitcake. Without much in the way of savoury notes, this wine manages to avoid jamminess or over simplicity.

On the palate there's a touch of residual sugar, but the fruit stands out in broad brush strokes. First comes the cherry sweetness, lifted by a pleasently degree of acid. The flavour mellows into a kind of stone fruit (not really Victoria plum, but it's the closest thing I could think of) smoothness that persists long after wines of a similar price have given up the ghost.

Highly recommended. Get a French rack of lamb from Meat Shop Meister and treat yourself.

A nice refreshing glass of copyright infringement.

Available at Kintetsu Kusatsu for your tasting pleasure.

The Wines of Yamaya. Part Two: Cosme Palacio Rioja Blanco 2011

Been into the Rioja recently. I had the pleasure of a Viña Tondonia Blanco '99 Reserva a few weeks back and I wanted to see if I could get in the ball park for less money. 
Of course that's insane. The Tondonia was absolutely terrific. Huge length and complexity and so much more interesting to wine geeks than even the most refined Chardonnay or Sauvignon Blanc. Thursday night wines, though, are made of different stuff.
I picked up this bottle for ¥1800 at my local Yamaya. It's a 100% Viura wine aged in 225 litre new French oak barrels. I liked the fonts on the label, too. Let's see what it has to offer. 

Opened and poured, this has an even colour reminiscent of a ripe English pear without much of a sparkle. A decent glassful has a colour that's becomes denser at the core. The nose has "that Viura thing" going on. Somewhere between "something that died in the forest" and, the altogether more prosaic, banana. As it warmed in the glass hints of sour lime emerged and everything intensified a little. Don't be put off by the hint of death on the nose. It's interestingly macabre rather than horrifyingly off-putting.
The flavours are strange here. Nothing leaps out but there's a very nice balance of citrus, hazelnut and cocktail bitters. The more the oxygen got to it, the more lime juice came out. Nice. Odd combination, but it works well. Once again, I think that in a world of Chardonnay drinkers who might occasionally have a drop of Sauvignon Blanc, this provides comparable quality, but a ton more interest at the price point.
Stick this with some prawns There's something about the flavour profile of this wine that's convinced me it'll suit the earthy seafood stylings of our sea-bug friends. That and hard cheese. I'm getting hungry again...
If you weren't particularly interested in wine, but just turned up at a party in need of a drink, I doubt this would work for you. It's far too geeky and singular to please a crowd of any reasonable size. If, however, you're sick of same old choices and enjoy drinking with your brain switched on, this may well be up your street.

The wines of Yamaya. Part One: Cuvee Anne-Laure Pinot Blanc 2011

I thought I'd write a few articles for all my brothers and sisters in Kyoto. You may well be able to get the wines in this series from other places as well...

Pinot Blanc doesn't get much love. Many of the epithets applied to it are rather pitying and sexist, such is the stigma applied to this grape. "Ugly Sister", "Good personality" and "wall flower". Not very edifying on behalf of the wine reviewers and pros I've heard from. I'll do this bottle the favour of not being supercilious. I hope it's up to the task.

A deep straw when you pour it this wine doesn't exactly sparkle in the glass, too bad. A nose of ripe apple floats above a suspiciously grapey base. It's very much like the rich Muscat grapes, perfectly bunched and spotless, that people send to each other as summer gifts in Japan. There are some over-ripe russety tones as well.
The palate is quite well balanced, slightly off dry with some acid present, I definitely detect the roundness of a lot of Auxerrois in this blend (In Alsace Pinot Blanc, Pinot Gris, Pinot Noir and Auxerrois can all be included in a wine labelled "Pinot Blanc"). This in itself is not a bad thing, but it is certainly an uninteresting thing to taste.
Apple, Melon, Grape, Meh.
This wine is relatively food friendly, I suppose, but the finish is short and it's totally uninspiring. There are definitely cheaper whites at Yamaya that blow this tripe out of the water.
Waste of space.

Up and coming on the Wine Mothership video channel!

Sorry for the video hiatus! I've been incredibly busy cutting the drunk bits out of our recent tasting of '78 Rioja. Delicious stuff and it went down so fast we were drunk before we got to the end of the video. Still worth a watch though!

Upcoming delights are;

'78 Rioja

Blogger gang tasting!

White Margaux (yes, I know it's just AOC Brodeaux, but still...)

A Vampire Cabernet Sauvignon from Romania! ( It may be the first time there are two Shit Wines on an episode)

'09 Pomerol

Requests welcome!

Osaka American wine day.

Two weeks ago I has the opportunity to swing by the Osaka American wine day. This yearly event, sponsored by the US government was a lot of fun! 

I won't bore you with the details, I'll just tell you about the wines.

Rack and Riddle Blanc de Noirs.

Recommended. 100% Pinot noir with obvious skin contact during early production. This salmon pink sparkler had more fruit than most red grape sparklers I've had. Strawberries on toast.

I love a Petite Sirah, especially one as as balanced and mineral as this Madrigal 2009 example from Napa. Wonderful acid, which came over as minerality, and very nice length for a wine in this price bracket. I just wish it were a little more concentrated. Also recommended.

Finger Lakes Cabernet Franc. New York. Typical cassis and blackberry leaf flavours on the front end. Hollow mid palate, hard acid on the finish. Interesting, not good.

10% too green. Avoid.

Patz and Hall Pinot Noir. Utterly unremarkable in every sense. Paint by numbers Pinot. Wil certainly have it's fans. Price check on aisle 18.

Peachy Canyon Incredible Red. Incredibly American. Totally unremarkable. Avoid.

Find of the night was the Birichino Vin Gris. Wonderful aromatics on this. Almost Alsatian in its florality. Fizzy acidity and old fashioned sweets with tropical hints of pineapple, jasmine and Japanese cherries. 

Quite a resinous body and great length. I think this would suit a wide variety of situations. I'll personally open up a bottle next time I have a picnic by the river.

Order it from Wassy's today.

See you at the Osaka Hilton next year.

Whoppee cushion a la Provençal. Domaine Tempier Bandol

Here's something I've bee meaning to get to for a while, a nice bottle of Bandol!

For the uninitiated, Bandol is a south eastern appellation of French red where the Mourvèdre grape predominates. I'm big fan of the big M. Some of the the nicest Rhone reds, both southern and Northern, have exhibited big, fleshy chunks of velvety bramble fruit as a result of the inclusion of this smooth criminal.
Further exploration, in the company of Shadow Pony, has led me to South Australian mono-varietals of amazing power and concentration and cheapo Spanish mouthwash.

Time to bring it on back home.

I cracked this one open just before my birthday dinner last weekend (the family have requested no cake) just to see if it needed a decant. On first inspection there was a ton of acid, bright fruit and a little nail polish remover. Re-cork, I thought to myself, and I bagged it up to take it over to the rather wonderful Raisin.
The journey and the wait didn't do this much good. The first glass exhibited a very closed character. After inspecting the pale, clear crimson hue, the nose was rather reluctant. That is to say as reluctant as a claustrophobic pony who's afraid of the dark would be if invited for a shift down a coal mine. Nothing. Red and chalk.
The Shadow Pony provided the tasting cue of the night when he said it tasted like a new Whoppee Cushion. Fair enough. Lead and pink Hubba Bubba was what I got. Little in the way of discernible fruit and only short to medium in length.
We abandoned this until the end of the night. An hour in it felt better balanced, with a more raspberried, if slightly lactic quality on the palate. The length had improved as well, although not enough.
At around 4000 yen from the usually impeccable Takimoto wine shop, I don't think I'll be venturing down to Bandol again in the forseeable. I'll be getting my Mourvedre kicks from Australia.

An iron fist in an iron glove.

Everyone who's got a soft spot for Bordeaux loves a bit of Pomerol, don't they? Iconic names like Petrus and La Pin set the heart a flutter and get wine fans dreaming of a big lottery win. Power, balance, length and that incomparable blend of red and blue fruit. An iron fist in a velvet glove. The trick is affording it. If you were just trying to find a nice bottle of wine to take round to a friend's house, there a hundreds of better value options to be had. Or are there? I picked this up for 3000 yen from my local Yamaya.

Les Chemins De La Croix Du Casse 2009
 
This is a second wine. Not the one that Chateau La Croix Du Casse used to sell, Domaine Du Casse, but a brand new label for the 21st century. 
Straight after opening the impression from the nose is very strong. Even before you put your nose to the glass there is a sweetened vanilla and fruit hit that invades the room and piques the interest, hinting at great power. In the glass the colour is a dense, opaque Harvard red that reinforces the sense of concentration from this wine.
On closer inspection, the aroma is totally dominated by the oak treatment Sweet blueberry and cassis are smothered by a heavy handed vanilla that coats the fruit like a heavy sauce. Very muted savoury notes, a little wood, but not very defined. To say pencil shavings is paying this wine a bit too much respect.

The palate is thuddingly insistant. Thick, unctuous bramble and blueberry notes bespeak some decent fruit went into making this wine, but yet again the heavy handed oak treatment dominates and distracts. For a second wine this is certainly built for the long term. Like Victorian architecture, this is overbuilt. This wine would easily survive an earthquake, but survivability is not really what I wanted with my cold roast lamb tonight.
Length? Well that's not a problem. Once again the flavour of the barrels defines this, dragging out the taste of this wine. Not desperately pleasant, but most certainly brutish.
 
I think I'd like to try other vintages of this wine. It'd be interesting to see what they would do in cooler vintages. The 2009, however, is something I'll leave for those in need of an adrenaline rush and a screaming banshee of wine. There is nothing soft or subtle here. An iron fist in an iron glove.

Steel yourself.

I was lucky enough to try something for the first time the other day. There were no fireworks or fanfare, no health warnings or check-ups and certainly no insurance papers to sign. This one crept up on me from out of the blue. Diatom Kazaoto chardonnay. The 2011.

This is the first time I've had a US steel barrel fermented chardonnay with absolutely no oak treatment. I cast my mind back, but I couldn't think of one time I've had anything similar. Wheelbarrow full of oak chips in dumped in a stainless steel barrel? Been there. Suspicion of coconut essence? Done that. Kazaoto achieves what it does with intensity and balance, and what it does is satisfy.
On first impression the wine looks a little dull. Most wines at this price point have a brightness to them. Pastel yellow to icterine. Never mind, onwards to the nose which is the paragon of cleanliness. Lime,  artichoke, whetstone and and a herbal component I thought a little like parsley. The aromas are lifted by a dynamic, vivacious acid component.
The palate is simple, elegant and lengthy. Sweetened citrus and a stemmy, resinous character give this wine a very fresh character. Minerals revealing themselves on the mid-palate. Not quite flinty, but the acid has an angularity to it that suggest another year in the cellar would reap rewards. The effect smooths out afterwords. Leaving a persistent, uncluttered flavour of green stone fruit and candied citrus zest, this wine intrigues deeply for something so ostensibly simple.
If you're looking into something new, look into a steel barrel. You never know what you might find.

Brown ale money.

Here's a long lasting obsession of mine. Value Bordeaux. I have a bee in my bonnet on this matter due to it's difficulty. You simply can't trust a name in Bordeaux, you simply have to find a wine critic you trust and go with their recommendation. Sometimes, though, I come across something that seems to be too good to turn down and buy blind.

A very reasonable price at your local Liquor Mountain gets you this. A very nicely balanced Bordeaux.
Upon opening this is dense and dark. Very closed at first with that coiled graphite hardness on the nose that bespeaks young Cabernet Sauvignon, this shows very little of the supple flashiness of the Merlot content. It's cool, blue fruited palate is short and rather austere, reminding me of the bramble fruits you'd pick not to eat, but for jam making. 
It was only on the third day, after abandoning this to the fridge in hopes of a recovery, that this started to make any sense at all. Showing much more poise than previously the tannins had unravelled to reveal a red carpet of Merlot, stained with aromatic dark berries. Heady stuff with an intense aroma. "I can smell it from here!" said one, 3 feet from the glasses. The length had improved a little too. Still no marathon runner, the stamina gave me a very good impression of the ageing potential of such a sprightly young thing.
This is excellent stuff to go with grilled meats and strong sauces. You can throw some spice at it as well. Just remember to decant it for a day before drinking.

The self writing blog entry.

Sometimes you really don't have to use much imagination to write about wine. A few flowery adjective and a strong opinion or two will usually do the trick. Sometimes, however, the articles write themselves. Let's see if I can find anything profound to say about Chateau Le Sartre 2010

OK, that's the last stab at any philosophy gags. You can tell from the label, the hint of tobacco smoke, the chic 40s font, that the producers aren't shy about evoking images of the bespectacled French philosopher. They really don't need to. The power of this wine is obvious to anyone.

Bright and yet dense in its hue, the wine appears vividly shimmering in the glass. Lighter in texture and with faster legs than it's colour suggest, it's a bit of charmer straight away.

Tropical palate at first with a good hit of passion fruit and lime. The length impressed.

The longer it was opened the more the flavours broadened. The passion fruit remained but now backed with a hard, crysteline lemon acidity. The flavours in this wine were well balanced and the emergence of a little oak was a welcome addition.

This wine comes highly recommended as it not only impressed me, but three other weather beaten wine enthusiasts. They all liked different aspects of it and if that's not profound, then I don't know if profundity really exists...

Dancing about architecture. Writing about wine

As an avid listener of BBC Radio 4's Thinking Allowed, I was reminded on this weeks podcast of an enigmatic aphorism.

"Talking about music is like dancing about architecture."

Surely all I do on this blog is totally analogous to the aforementioned architectural boogie. Why do we do it? Why do we read it? Does it have any merit to write about wine? To commit hundreds of words to paper or screen only to edit our soul down for consumption, the secondary consumption (for reading about wine can in no way be a substitute for for drinking it) of a listless group of netizens killing time waiting for the UPS guy to deliver their latest fix of whatever takes their fancy.

At it's worst any kind of critical writing is breathing in second hand tobacco smoke. At a slightly higher grade it can be filled with jargon, in jokes and references designed to impress a credulous audience. Only at it's finest can wine writing fool the reader into the almost impossible. Assimilating the thoughts of the writer as if they were their own.

The basis of communicating about our chosen subject can come from a variety places. Other fields of human endeavour have a number of stimuli. I can only accurately talk about myself. Hopefully I'll find that I'm not totally full of shit.

1) Have some self respect
Nobody likes to get caught out by as lack of knowledge in their chosen field. Even an honest "I don't know" can leave oneself feeling rather crestfallen. An uncomfortable silence is mortifying. Setting yourself up as a blogger on any subject will, in the successful candidate, engender a a burning quest for knowledge and self development that drives the writer forward. This will not only help in avoiding nasty mishaps of the "I'm sorry I haven't a clue" variety, but also in the long run help develop the writers ability to entertain as much as inform. Am I boring you? I hope not. I'd hate that. Anyone who sets themselves up to criticise must hold themselves to the most rigourous standards, if not in the ultimate level of knowledge one has at any time, but in the desire to broaden and deepen their overall skill set as quickly and effectively as possible. It's a matter of self respect.

2) Whack passivity
With cricket bat. Just consuming is a de-humanising experience. I think it necessary to draw the line between things we consume from necessity and things we consume for love. I've no doubt that somewhere on the Internet there's a blog dedicated to white sliced bread or toilet tissue, but the people who write those are nuts. No, to fully engage intellectually with an interest you must not only consume, but also engage. This might be producing in, working for, trading in or educating about your chosen subject. Even if this merely means keeping a diary of the different hair care products we've tried or writing a letter of complaint about a shoddily produced yoghurt, it's the kind of activity that raises us above the level of consumer statistic. Engage the gray matter even if, like yours truly, you don't have a particularly large amount to  power up.

3) Drip, drip, drip.
While trickle down economics might be a broadly discredited theory in the modern world, trickle down knowledge might have a little more substance to it. All the bloggers, all the readers, all the critics in the world are slowly, surely and deliberately increasing the mass of knowledge, opinion and curiosity in the world. Wine is a great example. There may be a preponderance of three line descriptions on Cellar Tracker and Vivino may condense wine to far beyond the point where descriptions have meaning, but everything improves engagement. My hope is that eventually this will lead to better wine from everywhere, for everyone. Idealistic, I know, but I'm certain it won't happen without criticism and development of consumer knowledge.

Anyway, rant over. Apart from anything else I enjoy it. There's something addicting about writing that I've never experienced (aside from nicotine). So that's good enough for me. You'll have to excuse me, I'm going for a boogie. Norman Foster's just come on the wireless.

Casual Sex(ism)

"El Sentido De La Vida: Girly WIne from Spain. The real anti-wrinkle therapy."

I shit you not. That is the real text from the real label of this all too real wine. The shelf talker told me it was a Petit Verdot, Tempranillo and Cab. Sav. blend. So I just had to see what was inside the bottle.

 A brief search on the old Googles led me to the website of Viña Cerrón. Castilla la Manch? Jumilla? Both words instantly summon up the new wave of Spanish Wine making that quite frankly couldn't be any more up my street if it tried.

Pouring it out lead to even more of a sense of anticipation. The colour is deep, dense purple. Very little gradiation from core to rim. The kind of wine that convinces you it's going to steal your lunch money at break time. Heavy enough to stain the the sides of the glass with very broad legs.

Muted on the nose, this none the less had some nice, regal Petit Verdot character of dense bramble fruit and berry jam. Quickly, however, the punch of the oak treatment takes over your nostrils. Wood, tobacco and a sweetness suggesting at least some American or sawn oak barrels. This theme lasts throughout the wine.

Broad and swarthy in the mouth this wine hits you with a one two of instant berry attack and a woody mid-palate. It's a grippy wine. Not as smooth as I'd hoped.

Length wise, this disappoints. All you're left with after a few moments are slightly furry teeth and a feeling that the abyss has just stared back into you. After some time in the glass it even loses it's initial attack. Inside and outside the bottle this wine is charmless.

If you really want an effective anti wrinkle therapy I recommend avoiding this wine. It made me screw my face up.

They say it's your birthday...

If you watch the videos then you know I'm a fan of Moulis-en-Medoc. If you get a line on a good supply it can be great value for money. The problem that presents itself to Bordeaux fans in Japan is very simple. Moulis generally isn't expensive or prestigious enough to warrant good shipping or good storage. Reefers? Forget it
Pssst. I think I've stumbled on a stash... In Yamaya...

This is a '94 La Closerie du Grand Poujeaux from the North east end of Moulis. Still a little purple at the core, but smoothing out to a convincing brick garnet at the rim. The initial look of this wine suggested that it might be great condition. The first pouring  greeted me with a very nice nose indeed. Plenty of those trademark Bordeaux savoury tones of leather and tobacco, plus a surprising amount of cassis to accompany it. This nose, I'm sorry to say, isn't really standing up to the rigours of being open after 20 years beneath (a surprisingly well preserved) cork.
In the mouth this is textbook Bordeaux. An initial attack of dark fruit, drying to earth and leather. It's a little austere, but has enough stuffing to be at least enjoyable. What we're really here for is the aged Merlot. Plump and supple, this is a very nice roast dinner wine. You'd better finish the bottle quite quickly though. Oxygen is dulling the flavours by the moment.
You might wonder why I'm writing a Wine Mothership post about this wine. Where's the utility to 20 year old Moulis?
Your answer is in the question. There will be a good few people turning 20 this year (the legal age to drink in Japan) who would be seriously impressed to receive a birth year wine like this. Soft and easy to drink. Classy bottle, goes well with a celebration. Just don't tell them how cheap it was. Or that you bought it at your local Yamaya.
And leave one for me.

Rockfords basket press Shiraz 2005.

Old standards

It's always a nice experience to see your friends move into a new place. The excitement, the grand tour, the new furniture. It always satisfies. Not only that, but it's a great excuse for champagne. Not sparkling wine? Even considering the great leaps forward the new world AND the great strides made by those in my own country, The UK, there still seems to be a greater cache with the Champagne "brand". The word just trips off the tongue of those people wishing to celebrate in style. It's no surprise that this frustrates new world makers and this attitude was well illustrated when a very wise person told me something seemingly obvious.

"Drink the wine, not the label."

But every time we pop the cork on a bottle of Champagne, isn't that precisely what we're doing?

The Moet seems to have modernized itself over the last ten years. For a brand formally seen as the last word in champagne consistency, this is a surprise. The nose is standard champers. Green, toast, hints of mixed nuts. There is markedly more citrus on the front of the palate before the rocky crunch of the mousse takes hold. Medium finish, nothing prodigious. The mousse is more aggressive than is ideal.
The Monopole is  much more like the Moet used to be. I used to think of many champagnes as "neutral". Not too much of anything and perfectly suited to corporate luncheons. The Monopole seems a little outdated now. I'm not a sparkling expert by a long chalk, but I don't think an aficionado would easily be able to tell this as champagne in a tasting flight of new world offerings. The mouth feel was nice though, having a slightly finer mousse than the M&C. Perfectly acceptable, but somewhat overpriced and one paced. I drank the label.

In the end the Moet & Chandon is somewhat like my mates' new apartment. A nice slice of modernity slid comfortably into a classic package. Well priced and a great image. I'd be happy to take the tour now.