Bone dry

Apologies for the recent lay-off in posting. I’ve been focussing on getting my thesis ever closer towards the finishing line and as a result the motivation for writing has waned a little.

Nonetheless, it strikes me as a moment which is definitely comment worthy as I’m currently enduring the heat of a summer in London. Lovely as summer is, soaring heat and increasing droughts are symptomatic of global climate change. We’ve all heard the confident predictions about England’s future ability to produce greater volumes of wine and the quixotic dreamers who are planting vines and olive trees as far north as Yorkshire to get ahead of the trend.

Climate change is about much more, however, than simply improving the ambient weather in the British Isles.  Clearly for every net ‘winner’ during a period of global meteorological change, there is a requisite ‘loser’. I once had a winegrower from the Languedoc talk about how France’s South was moved ‘North’ when they joined the EU. He was worried that Spain’s introduction meant that part of what made the Languedoc unique in France (its weather, its soils) was diminished and this would affect the region’s development. Nonetheless, the region has soldiered on.

Yet climate change has the potential to very realistically alter the experience of countries which right now are perfect for winegrowing. This observation has been motivated by a report which focussed on the future of Californian & West Coast winemaking and the impacts of Climate change. Last summer I had the goof fortune to drive down the West Coast, from Portland OR to San Francisco CA and the beautifully dramatic coastline made its impression strongly. Along that jagged coast, the vineyards of the West have been at the forefront of changing wine trends since the famous Judgement of Paris in 1976 and continue to innovate with delicious boutique wines and commercially savvy crowd-pleasers.

The Climate study, undertaken by researchers at Stanford University, projected the 30 year impact of global warming on four West Coast winemaking regions: the Napa valley and the county of Santa Barbara in California, Oregon’s Willamette Valley (Yamhill county) and Washington’s Columbia Valley (Walla Walla County). The potential impact on these regions is severe and the report warns of a decrease of almost 50% of viable land for vines.

The study’s findings are based on an assumption of a 23% increase in the ouput of greenhouse gases, yielding a 1 degree centigrade temperature increase. this would, in turn, exacerbate the number of exceedingly hot days where the thermometers top 35 degrees centigrade along America’s western coast. Such intense heat would produce challenging conditions for Cabernet Sauvignon, Pinot Noir and Chardonnay and reduce the area where they thrive in Napa by potentially as much as half. Santa Barbara would shed 20% of its suitable area, whilst The Columbia Valley might expect a requisite figure of 23%. In Oregon, the Willamette Valley might actually see an increase in the amount of suitable land, benefiting from temperature increases along the often rainy Western seafront. Such a dramatic loss of arable land along the west coast would prove extremely challenging for America’s wine economy during already difficult times.

One potential example to look to for advice on managing such change however, is the Languedoc. Even as it faced the challenges of expanding European markets, the region was also beset by a variety of measures designed to improve its quality and reduce its yield. Often touted as the ‘new El Dorado’, as was California, the Languedoc was the focus of targeted ‘arrachage’ progammes, which rewarded winegrowers for uprooting high-yield vine stock. This led, in part, to a 29% reduction in the Languedoc’s vine coverage between 1970 and 1994, as regional development policy shifted away from bulk production towards better quality grapes and better quality winemaking. Now the Languedoc stands as one of the wine world’s success stories – although it is not without its problems – and it will be interesting to see the means by which California adapts to similarly enforced reductions in volume.

1 Comment

andrew, July 7th 2011 | Tags: , , , ,
Posted in Grapes, Winegrowing, Winemaking

Upstairs Downstairs I

Wine has traditionally been bound up with the trappings of wealth – both in its consumption and it production. Indeed, it is this free association which has often held back the marketing of wine in Britain, challenging perceived class and gender hierarchies associated with the drink. Yet, at the same time, products replete with social capital hold their value somewhat better than those aimed at the lower end of the market (see the post on ‘Shelter from the Storm’). Balancing the intrinsic value of a product against the volume driven by pandering to the mass-market has been the dilemma of many prestige wineries during these challenging economic times.

Such wealthy prestige, however, can very well have a positive influence on wine – specifically when it involves reinvigorating a prestige winery on the brink of collapse. In one such case, the famed businessman and renowned hair model Donald Trump has recently bought over the Kluge winery in Virginia. Interestingly, with the potential of Trump running for the Republican Presidential Nomination, Kluge wines were enjoyed at the wedding of Chelsea Clinton. If Kluge’s wines can continue to grace the functions of the influential when they are allied to one camp in the greatly partisan United States, then such associations will prove an asset.

The Kluge estate was itself born of wealth, with the ownership passing to Patricia Kulge as part of a divorce settlement with former Forbes table-topping millionaire John Kluge. Since the millennium the Kruge estate has enjoyed good fortunes, expanding and ameliorating produce in an effort to place themselves amongst the world’s most exclusive boutique wineries. Tales of Kluge wine served at the weddings of the wealthy and powerful added to an allure which allied the caché of exclusivity with the aura of old money. On the back of these positive signs, expansion seemed to signal the way forward.  Yet, in the midst of a global recession, expansion proved near ruinous. Indebted to the tune of $23m, the Kluge estate was sold to the Bank of America for $15.3m. At auction, however, the prestigious domain was to find an even lower price, albeit a more solvent guarantor. Donald Trump paid an estimated $6.2m for the estate, which he plans to take on as a going concern.

The winery will likely retain its staff (most certainly at the top) and will undoubtedly continue to make recourse to the internationally successful and near unanimous consultant Michel Rolland. Yet, as a condition of sale, Trump will rebrand the wines to fit his own stable of assets. Trump’s vanity projects all bear his name proudly, although he perennially faces the same dilemma of undermining core brand value with wide availability. If Trump bankrolls expansion at Kruge then it must be firmly allied to a belief in the quality of the product. Problematically, Trump has himself declared that he is still more interested in real estate than wine and that all matters viticultural will be left to staff at the winery, including friend and former owner Paricia Kluge. Yet, having already sold the farm once, can Kluge’s owners turn it around? This is Trump’s gamble and one which he may be able to help ensure is a safe bet.

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andrew, April 13th 2011 | Posted in Wine buying, Winemaking

Playing to the Gallery

Much has been made of the potential for export growth to emerging luxury markets in both China and Russia. Many of the largest European and American brands who trade in such commodities have upped their representation overseas and staged large fairs and PR exercises designed to communicate ‘Old World’ sophistication and bolster their cultural capital. Wine has been one at the forefront of this development as an easily exportable status symbol with infinite potential for specialisation. The notion that one culture’s status symbol can be an instantly recognisable cipher for different values is an Ad man’s dream. When a product speaks of more than its qualities or production method, it gains a certain power. When that power becomes global, the product itself becomes a sort of gnomic reference to a whole litany of associations.

Andy Warhol once commented on the conceptual power of Coca-Cola in its unification of consumers across class, geography, sex and any other division. In his own eloquence:

“You can be watching TV and see Coca-Cola, and you can know that the President drinks Coke, Liz Taylor drinks Coke, and just think, you can drink Coke, too. A Coke is a Coke and no amount of money can get you a better Coke than the one the bum on the corner is drinking. All the Cokes are the same and all the Cokes are good.”

Juxtaposing these different situations presents a stark reminder of the socially levelling potential which the standardisation of products brings. Yet, at the same time, Warhol’s reflection presents us with a fairly interesting inverse. Those products which retain cultural cache and survive as unassailable status symbols in the modern world do so for exactly the reason that you can’t imagine their consumption by disparate social groups. Chateau Lafite is Chateau Lafite and whilst the President may drink it and Liz Taylor may well have done, the odds are that you can’t. Ouch. Don’t get me wrong, neither can I – that’s sort of the point of the whole status symbol thing. Yet these sorts of status symbols interest me not for their reserved nature, but for their transferability.

Chateau Lafite has massively boosted its profile in China with a culturally attuned move to enhance their appeal to that market.  Their newly bottled 2008 vintage has been daubed with the Chinese symbol for 8 – a specifically lucky symbol in a culture which values such charms. Incredulous western news reports often recount the exorbitant sale of phone numbers or vehicle registrations which predominantly feature the number 8. Regardless, the bottle’s labelling provides an approving nod from a genuine status symbol.

Lafite’s market share has since rocketed, as sales have risen on the back of this new engagement with Chinese culture.   UK wine sellers have reported wide-ranging stock shortages, as initial allocations flew out of the cellar and replacement stock has evaporated just as quickly. Indeed, investors reported an approximately 20% rise in prices, as a case surpassed the £10,000 mark for the first time. Investors have almost solely been Chinese or working towards the Chinese market.

For the brand spokespeople at Lafite, “the shape of the symbol seems to offer a perfect representation of the slopes of the vineyard and commemorates the launch of our Chinese wine project.” Indeed, the move is not wholly cynical. The symbol specifically commemorates the cooperation of Lafite with the Chinese State in planting 25 hectares of vines in the Penglai peninsula, Shangdong province. The seaside area, famed for dramatic coastal views and the Penglai Water Castle, boasts a moderate climate influenced by its position nestled between mountains and the sea. Long touted for investment, the Penglai are has been praised for the successful cultivation of noble varietals such as Chardonnay, Chenin Blanc and Ruby Cabernet. Some have even gone so far as to label it ‘China’s Bordeaux’, a moniker which will only be strengthened by Lafite’s investment.

Another interesting engagement with the Chinese market was made on behalf of Chateau Mouton Rothschild. Speculation that they were employing a Chinese artist to design the label for their 2008 vintage saw prices rocket on the back of market speculation. Playing to the gallery, it seems, pays well when done correctly.

Yet the eager courting of such markets brings with it abiding dangers. Such dangers don’t relate specifically to the Chinese market, or indeed any other, but instead stem from an over-reliance on the opinion of some. I have written before about Robert Parker and the perils of purported ‘Parkerisation’, which has seen French vineyards attempt to guide production towards the whims of one man’s critical empire. What then is to become of the next dominant market? Will the lure of China’s export potential drive changes in the production of wine in Europe?

This is an interesting prospect, made even more so by the prominent role of high status wineries in courting that market. If a recognised status symbol alters itself to suit an emerging market, does it change the value of the product as a status symbol? Likewise, it could be argued that the task of Lafite or any other prestige brand is to shape the market to their tastes. In an interesting economic dance, the competing influence of established product and eager consumer can lead to profound adaptation on both sides.

Perhaps in their plans to plant vines in Penglai, Lafite are stealing a march on their competition. If China is to emerge as a fine wine producer rather than just fine wine consumer (excepting the presence of many wineries such as Shanxi Grace which, although quality, lack the cache of Bordeaux’s leading houses), then European wineries would do well to get in on the ground floor. The adaptation of status symbols could well be worked round, as an organic brand emerging from within China and bearing the important association with French Chateaux could translate the competing desires of product and consumer. In this way, the negative aspects of processes like Parkerisation could cede to a genuinely sympathetic development which broaches the divide between emerging markets and existing products. Playing to the gallery need not be reductive if its chock full of other actors!

2 Comments

andrew, October 29th 2010 | Tags: , , , , , ,
Posted in Wine buying, Winegrowing, Winemaking

What exactly are Sulphites?

If you’re in the UK, or even anywhere else within the EU, you’ll have no doubt noticed the small sentence on your wine’s label which says “Contains Sulphites”. Many people worry about such declarations, as they assume it means someone’s been dabbling with the chemistry set and you’re about to sit down to a glass of bubbling E numbers haphazardly mixed with grape juice. Clearly, this is not the case. If you’ve been keeping an eye out, you’ll notice that this declaration is made on all bottles of wine which you can buy. So, let’s try and answer some common questions.

Firstly, what exactly are sulphites? Sulphites are any compound which contains the chemical Sulphur dioxide. The statement on the label has been mandatory since November 2005, when new regulations necessitated the declaration of any additives to wine. The vague declaration is not, in itself, a particularly useful guide to what’s going on, however. There are maximum levels, yet the declaration doesn’t tell you whether your wine contains a bare minimum or the very maximum.

Secondly, why are they in my wine? To put it simply, they are a preservative. I’m not talking microwave meal/ freezer food preservative, however. Sulphites allow wine to age, and wines with absolutely no added sulphites would be unlikely to age more than even a few months. Even in wine where no preservatives have been added at all, sulphur is still present to the tune of 10mg per litre as it is a natural by-product of the fermentation process. Sulphur dioxide serves as an anti-microbial agent which helps to limit the growth of potentially ruinous yeasts and bacteria in wine. It is also an antioxidant which prevents browning by preserving the colour of the grape skins in the wine. White wine generally contains larger amounts of added Sulphur Dioxide as it does not contain as many anti-oxidants from the grape skins as red does.

Sulphites have been a recognised additive in wine since at least 1487, when the first recorded decree permitting their usage was issued by the Prussian Royal state. At this moment, Sulphur Dioxide was being added to wine in small quantities to permit it to travel for trade or supplies in exploration. Indeed, the practice had been inherited from the Romans, who first developed the trick of burning sulphur candles inside wine barrels before filling them, which was taken up by British and Dutch merchants in turn.

Thirdly, do I have a choice? Broadly, the answer is no. When working at wine shops in the past, I have had people ask for Suplhite-free wine and insist that they’d had it before. To be honest, they’ve probably been mis-sold in another shop, with a sales assistant happily telling them exactly what they want to hear in order to get them to the till then out the door. As made clear in the answer to the last question, Sulphites are a natural by-product of the fermentation process which distinguishes wine from grape juice. You cannot drink wine which is totally free from Sulphites. Some Biodynamic and Organic producers commit themselves to using an absolute minimum of additives and this often means lower levels of Sulphur dioxide. If you’re dead set on trying to avoid them, you’d be best to go for organic or biodynamic red wines.

A very tiny minority of people are sensitive to Sulphites, as with just about any other substance on earth. It can give people migraines and skin conditions and even worsen Asthma. As someone who is asthmatic, I can attest this has never bothered me. If you are affected, laying off the wine is sadly the only realistic answer. The very lowest quality of wine may also contain an excess of Sulphites, added recklessly to ensure a long shelf-life for bargain basement wines. If you smell something like a burnt match when you open a bottle of wine, it’s probably had a little too much added. However, the use of Stelvin closures now means that this smell can be more common with white wines with no fault, as a perfect air seal prevents any gradual dissipation of excess Sulphur dioxide during transit. If it clears after opening, taste the wine as usual and determine any faults from the glass, not the bottle. As always, drink better and smarter and you’re less likely to run into problems.

Basically, there’s no need to panic. Sulphites appear in all wines and you should only worry if you’re drinking industrially cheap wine or are one of the tiny minority with a dietary sensitivity. Best get drinking up!

5 Comments

andrew, May 11th 2010 | Tags: , , , , , ,
Posted in Wine buying, Wine Legislation, Wine tips, Winemaking

Corks and closures: sealing the deal


Debates on wine closures can largely be the result of initial reactions to the appearance of innovations or a sentimental attachment to their fore-runner. Nevertheless, it’s interesting to consider the various merits of different closures and also their down sides.

Corks

Clearly, the traditional means of closure has been well represented for centuries. Portugal produces almost 50% of the world’s cork, much of which finds its way into the neck of wine bottles. Cork trees live for around 200 years and can be stripped about every 9 years. They are widely praised as being a positive crop with benefits for the surrounding environment and wildlife. Similarly, they are recognised as the most environmentally friendly method of closure, as cork itself is inherently sustainable and easily recyclable.

French growers started using corks at some point in the mid seventeenth century, replacing the previous reliance on oiled rags (amongst other wild and wacky methods) as stoppers. Corks provide the best means for ageing red wines with a limited oxygen transfer encouraging long-term changes in the wine. The use of corks by prestigious and long-standing names in the French wine industry has played into the perception of cork as the superior closure and the only means for sealing premium wine.

Corks are not without their problems, however. One of the most common complaints about wine is that it is ‘corked’. This occurs when natural cork develops high levels of a chemical called TCA. This chemical causes unpleasant changes in the wine which can vary in their intensity. You should note that wine is not corked if it has bits of cork in it! Rather, wine will smell somewhat fungal or foxy and the palate will be muted but bitter. This natural fault occurs in something like 5% of bottles and is an unavoidable result of using natural materials. Nevertheless, intrepid scientists are working on means of conditioning cork to contain less TCA and halt the production of it in later years. The only real way to avoid such corked wine is to use an alternative closure, as described below.

Synthetic Corks

These tend to be made from plastics and often appear on cheaper bottles ready to eschew a screw-cap but not willing to invest in cork as a more expensive option. Clearly these offer little in the way of ageing potential as they aren’t especially malleable and don’t allow for air transfer. This will be perfectly obvious to anyone who’s ever tried to force one back into a bottle once it’s been opened. As these don’t mould the way corks do, you may find a sharp knife called into action to help you whittle a narrower end to force into the neck (or brute force)!

Screw Caps/ Stelvin closures

Although these closures endured something of a tumultuous introduction, they’ve quietly become the standard for a whole slew of wines. Basically, anything designed to be drunk young is perfect for a screw-cap. Although they predominate atop whites, some red producers are using them to seal wines designed for immediate consumption.

There is debate as to their use in bottle-ageing. They can help some bottles lie for up to 10 years, after which the interior can become brittle and fail. They certainly keep out more oxygen than traditional corks and this can help preserve the integrity of the wine.

The problem can come with gift-giving – I personally don’t like to give screw cap bottles as presents to friends. It’s irrational and fairly silly but it remains a misgiving which affects my purchasing decisions. Perhaps it’s an air of tradition which comes with cork which I want to see repeated in gifts. Personally, I’m more than happy to buy screw caps for my own consumption or for serving at my house, it’s just a bizarre prejudice that stops me buying them as gifts. Clearly they’re the equal of corks, although the problem remains one of image,

Zorks/Crown-caps/Vino-seals/Other things I’ve heard of but never actually seen

Zorks are apparently and Australian invention which, according to the publicity, ‘seal like a screw-cap and pop like a cork’. I have never seen one and feel in no way qualified to comment on it as a result. I’m dubious whether I ever will, though. I’ll keep my eye out at the London Wine Fair this year.

Crown-caps bring the worlds of wine and beer a little closer together. Although they are used at certain stages of the sparkling wine-making process, they are generally removed before shipping. Some wine-makers are now shipping their produce with a variety of this crown-closure which allows it to be sold as is. From what I can gather, these appear to be something like the caps that appeared on large bottles of Grolsch for a while and also adorn Tuborg bottles. Imagine a cross between a pull tab (like on a soft drink can) and a traditional bottle-cap. They’re intended for low-end sparkling wines, ensuring a perfect seal cheaply whilst still giving the satisfaction of a pop.

Vino-seals are not a water-dwelling mammal with a penchant for distilled grape juice. They are in fact something more akin to a traditional bottle-stopper (as you might employ at home). They are seemingly made of glass, which makes for a high unit price and helps to explain their scarcity.

It’s interesting that so many of these alternate closure methods seem designed to imitate the cork in some way. They are all valid options with their own attributes yet the endurance of cork is a signal of its trusted reputation. Likewise, it can serve as a mark of quality to the consumer, a fact recognised by the Spanish government when they banned the use of alternatives closures in 11 of its appellations. Screw-tops, however, have a definite role to play in the wine world, both in terms of convenience and economy. When it comes to sealing the deal, I’ll take whatever works!

3 Comments

andrew, April 19th 2010 | Tags: , , , ,
Posted in Winemaking

War of Wine

Marcelin Albert - 'the great redeemer'

One of the most interesting winegrowing areas in the world is the Languedoc-Roussillon region of France. Situated in the South-West of the country, this sun-scorched area is hemmed in by the Pyrenees and the Mediterranean. A land of rugby, boar-hunting and wine, the so-called Midi is an exciting area of production which has been one of France’s largest since time immemorial. A long history of over-production has somewhat hampered the area’s reputation, as the historic tendency has been towards the production of cheap, rustic reds designed to satisfy the home market’s desire for quick drinking wine at a discount. Yet, this Southern idyll has not always presented a tranquil face to the world.

The region vividly remembers 1907 as a moment of open revolt, when a series of riots in the region followed a wine crisis which made beggars of many. Some 600,000 people on the streets of Montpellier marked the high-point of a movement which say a regiment of the army mutiny in favour of the winegrowers after 6 people were tragically killed in the course of the demonstrations. Marcellin Albert, a cafe owner and winegrower from the village of Argeliers, was the passionate figure head of the movement and the local people referred to him as the ‘Redeemer’ of the Midi. Often presented as his able lieutenant, Dr Ernest Ferroul was an urban Socialist doctor from Narbonne whose fiery rhetoric impassioned the masses who moved to protest.

These riots fired a protest movement which spanned the subsequent century, motivating growers to protest against their poverty. This poverty was perceived to be the result of fraud, over-production and price fluctuations in the wine market. The riots of 1907 marked a high watermark that saw later winegrowers return to a moment of regional strength to express their discontent with the prevailing system. As growers articulately challenged the government to intervene throughout the twentieth century, vocal protests took up and developed the imagery of 1907.

Today, over a hundred years since the riots of 1907, there is a lot of interesting wine production in the Midi. Small artisanal growers are leading a charge towards high-quality, small-yield production geared towards selective drinkers and the export market. Demographic shifts and political changes have moved the region away from its traditional overproduction towards a more modern industry focussed on quality production.  Areas like Pic-St-Loup are becoming typical of a region on the up, as the problems of the past have ceded to a renewed passion for quality. The war of wine may yet be won!

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andrew, April 7th 2010 | Tags: , , , ,
Posted in Winegrowing, Winemaking

A Rosé by any other name: the EU and the task of defining Rosé

It’s amazing how many people genuinely believe that Rosé is genuinely made from blending red and white wine. This tends to be an attitude which derives from blissful ignorance, however, with its exponents generally never having thought about how wine is made (nor, if we’re honest, caring that much as long as it remains fruity, drinkable and cold). Please note, this is definitively not intended as an elitist scoff at those who don’t have a wine education, but rather an attempt to set this unconscious attitude alongside the very real attempt by the EU to facilitate exactly this method of creating Rosé in 2009.

Without getting too high in the saddle of my exceptionally high horse, there are very good reasons why this practice of blending has historically been banned and, indeed, why it remains so. Although blending approximates the colour of Rosé, it does little to approximate the nose or palate. Adding a small concentration of red wine to a soft white doesn’t achieve the same rounded red fruit so often displayed using traditional methods of controlling the contact time between skin and juice during production. Nevertheless, there were some interesting economic ideas behind the proposal. The temptation to drain Europe’s ‘wine lakes’ (of excess, unsold wine production) and create a new product which could promote sales was tempting. Yet, the worry is that such a product would bottom out the existing market, damaging the sustainability of the industry for the sake of a short-term ‘clearance sale’.

Producers in France and Italy led the defence of the status quo, arguing that the value of their product would be grossly undermined by cheap imitations produced by blending red and white. This was not simply the protectionism of old, however. In Provence, which accounts for the majority of France’s near 30% share of the Rosé market, producers were incensed that the recognisable character of their product should be undermined so flagrantly by the draft proposal of March 2009. One of the greatest concerns was that the ‘wine lakes’ of the EU largely consist of wine which is unsold and hence, on the whole, unwanted. Blending low quality wines together is unlikely to make them better and the resulting produce is more than likely to be pretty unappealing.

It is possible to see how such a blend of red and white could appeal to the budget sector of the market, although it is also necessary to state that quality Rosé wine is not something to be derided. Regardless, as of June 2009, the EU has reinforced legislation which bans the mixing of red and white to produce Rosé, preferring to stick with tradition and quality in favour of better production methods. There are a plethora of interesting and well made Rosé wines on the market which palpably demonstrate the genuine quality which is possible in this style. Forget tired attitudes forged in the 70s when the wine became faddish, Rosé is an important and growing sector of the wine market which deserves attention.

Try mixing some red wine into a glass of chilled white at home. I’ll admit that the proposed blending production would be a little more scientifically conducted, yet the results of this little experiment are resoundingly negative. People may deride Rosé as a lesser wine in some circles, yet I’m willing to enjoy it for its own virtues. So, with summer suggestively lingering over the horizon, I’ll be no less likely to reach for a Rosé de Provence but far more likely to thank my lucky stars it’s not a soda-stream mish-mash of unwanted, unsalable red and white.

2 Comments

andrew, April 5th 2010 | Tags: , , ,
Posted in Wine Legislation, Winemaking

Voodoo Chile: Carmenere comes back from the dead

There’s very little that can be said to be ‘new’ in the Wine world, with the practices of centuries filtering down into traditions which have become well established. Interestingly, some innovation has occurred in rediscovering old classics and forgotten styles. Re-using these established methods is both interesting and useful – representing a resurrection of ideas long thought dead.

One of these revenants is Carmenère, an interesting grape in itself. It fell out of favour in the Old World centuries ago, leaving Bordeaux before the blight of Phylloxera made itself firmly felt. It’s often described as the “lost Bordelais” grape, being almost totally unknown in its home in France. Centuries ago, monks set off on their missionary quest to South America, taking with them cuttings from the grapes from which they made their Abbey’s sacred  tipples. In its Chilean habitat, Carmenère was long believed to be a variant of Merlot until a French botanist discovered the truth after the Second World War.

The excess heat of the Chilean climate had allowed the grape to prosper as it had never done in Bordeaux. Nowadays it can be broadly expressive of chocolate and plummy notes, with a herbal lift which is characterised by violet or lavender. It’s similar to traditionally grown European Merlot, yet with a unique and interesting strength which Merlot often lacks. As a single varietal it is an exciting and singular grape which is definitely worth exploring in its own right.

Chile is not only famous for this obscure grape, however. Noble varieties of the Old World like Cabernet Sauvignon and Shiraz have found their home in the temperate mountains of Chile which play host to the majority of the country’s wine production.

Whether by Voodoo or otherwise, Carmenère is definitely back from the dead, but it can still be full of soul!

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andrew, March 25th 2010 | Tags: , , , , ,
Posted in Grapes, Winegrowing, Winemaking

Phileas Phogg: The Very Model of a Modern Winemaker

Flying winemakers are an interesting modern phenomenon, whereby Phileas Fogg may serve as a better reference-point than the winegrowers of tradition. The modern practice of advisers working on vineyards all over the globe has been enabled obviously by advances in air transport, but also by the internationalisation of trade, which has seen large companies acquire many smaller properties all over the globe and the establishment of influential consultancies.

Flying winemakers have enabled quality winegrowing to open up in previously under-developed regions such as India, Thailand and other such unlikely countries. The presence of French and European winegrowers in these territories has given the benefit of years of winemaking expertise to emerging areas. Likewise, intrepid young vintners from Australia and South Africa have made inroads into the business of winemaking overseas. The term was coined by Tony Laithwaite, who employed an Australian to work on his ‘Bordeaux Direct’ release.

Michel Rolland is perhaps the most obvious example of these globe-trotting wine advisers, plying his influence in vineyards all over the continents of the world. He famously declares in the excellent film Mondovino that he intends to start growing wine on the Moon. These winemakers are generally tasked with making wines that will perform well on the market, favouring fruity and readily drinkable wines that lack any intimidating complexity. They also help improve winemaking practices in places where modern standards of hygiene and production have not traditionally been adhered to. The French winemakers pioneering production in some Chinese vineyards are testament to this, moving away from traditional blended fruit wines for the domestic market towards distinctive single varietals (some of which is exported).

Some have criticised this phenomenon, as implied in Mondovino, by suggesting that consolidating such creative influence in the hands of individuals has led to the creation of a hegemony. Antonio Gramsci spoke of the power of such hegemony to affect economic processes, and Robert Parker is seen as the power behind the throne. His accessible reviews and clear numerical ratings have driven sales by endorsement across the world. Parker’s critics fear that his closeness to advisers such as Rolland inevitably see Parker’s tastes being pressed on others for the sake of favourable reviews and their attendant sales.

Whether Phileas Fogg’s intrepid spirit of adventure has motivated the flying winemakers of today is difficult to say, yet their exploration of virgin territories has opened up new markets and new opportunities. The spirit of the Reform Club’s wager has led many successful winemakers to test their mettle in these new territories and it can only be hoped they inspire a legacy half as long as that of stolid old Phileas!

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andrew, March 17th 2010 | Tags: , , ,
Posted in Winemaking