There is a video down below somewhere but first, let’s talk brett. Brettanomyces to give it its full name is a strain of yeast that has been around for centuries, but which began to appear on the wine radar around 20 years ago, and has really sprung to prominence in the last decade.
We’ll get on to why in a moment, but first, how do you spot its influence in a wine? Tell-tale signs of badly-affected wines are aromas of farmyards and horse-blankets, along with a metallic, medicinal edge like surgical bandages. And there’s never quite as much fresh fruit as you’d like – the wines smell quite developed, even when they’re young, and often finish with raspingly dry tannins.
Sounds horrible? Well, in large doses it can be, but in small amounts… Think of it in musical terms. One minor deviation from the score, and only the musician notices. Three or four, and there a light murmurs from a few members of the audience. Twenty bum notes, and widespread coughing ensues. So it is with brett. There are some who think that a small amount can add complexity to a wine, much as a touch of volatility, oxidation or reduction can, in the right places.
In my experience, the level of brett in a bottle of wine remains much the same as you chug your way through its contents. As some wines take a time to open up, this can mean that a wine that starts off in rather pongy fashion actually becomes more pleasurable the longer it’s been opened. But certainly not always, as was the case with the Chivite wine in the video (honestly, there is one, just keep scrolling down, I’ll shut up soon).
As for the reason we’ve become more aware of it in recent times, much of it can be traced back to winemaking hygiene. As producers around the world have adopted more sanitary working practices, some facets of certain wines that were once thought to be terroir-derived complexities have actually been revealed to be flaws, with brett being among them. An ex-Oddbins buyer recently told me that when he was looking for wines in the mid-1990s, he’d say to the suppliers that they didn’t want them with that stinky Rhône-like character: ‘We hadn’t heard the word “brett”, but we could spot it in a wine a mile off.’
Cleaner cellars should mean less brett, right? Well certainly the hike in hygiene meant that those wineries that hadn’t cleaned up their act began to stand out. But it wasn’t only ancient producers that were making bretty wines – often it was the swankiest of newcomers, looking to produce very ripe, low acid wine with the minimal of sulphur additions which was aged on the lees in 100% (and sometimes 200%) new, highly toasted oak, and then bottled (perhaps with a touch of residual sugar) with neither fining nor filtration. The trouble is, such conditions spell party-time for brett. The barrels in particular are brett heaven – the yeast has been found nearly 1cm deep in oak staves. And the result is wines that were intended to last 20 years or more, but which at less than half that age are dried out and charmless.
With the passing of the fashion for big oak and big alcohol, does this mean there’ll be fewer bretty wines in the future? Perhaps, but yeasts have been known to play dirty…
Nearly at the video, but what do you think of brett in wines? Can you spot it, does it put you off, have you ever sent a bretty wine back in a restaurant, and if so, how did it go down with the sommelier/waiter? Do leave a comment. OK, video time…
Ramos Pinto Duas Quintas Douro 2007, Portugal (£9.99 Whole Foods Market, Roberson, Partridges, Philglas & Swiggot, Planet of the Grapes, Wines of the World, The Vineyard (Dorking), The Secret Cellar (Tunbridge Wells), Wright Wine Company, Stainton Wines, D Byrne, Lockett Bros, L’Art du Vin, Villeneuve Wines, Henderson Wines, Peckham & Rye) Appealing young red, with bright sweet (but not too sweet) blackcurrant jam, cherry and spice flavours and a firm but juicy finish. B+
Macià Batle Binnisalem Crianza 2006, Mallorca, Spain (£12.25 Bowes Wine) Starts well with wild, warm, meaty aromas, and promises of sweet figgy fruit, but when you come to taste it, it’s a bit angular and dead-grape/raisinny, and flattened by brett. B-
Viña Pomal Centenario Rioja Reserva 2005, Spain (£11.99 Majestic) Classic style, with aromas of vanilla and flavours of raspberry, strawberry and orange peel kept in check by a thread of acidity, tasty now, but good for another couple of years at least. B+
Viña Mara Rioja Reserva 2004, Spain (~£10 might still be in some Tesco stores) A more mature and mellow style than the Pomal, with plush plummy red berry fruit that grows in the glass and a vanilla-tinged spicy warmth to the finish. This was still looking great a couple of days after first opening. S-
Chivite Gran Feudo Navarra Reserva 2004, Spain (£7.99 Waitrose) The feral meatiness hints at the presence of brett, and while there is some reasonable blackcurrant and raspberry flavour, the dry finish and the dead grape don’t really give much pleasure. C+
More from the batches of wine that arrived from Morrisons & The Wine Society – this time it’s the reds (the whites are here).
The Society’s Claret NV (Sichel), Bordeaux, France (£5.95/£5.42 The Wine Society) Leafy, sappy, young and refreshing unoaked style, uncomplicated tender and fruity, does just what it should. B-
Sichel Lussac St Emilion 2007, Bordeaux, France (£11.99/£6 Morrisons) Reasonably fleshy but a touch over-extracted and with too much toasty oak for the level of fruit. OK at £6, not at £11.99. C+
The Society’s Rioja Crianza 2006 (Bodegas Palacio), Spain (£7.50 The Wine Society) Quite delicate young wine, with typical sappy strawberry flavours tinged with vanilla, but also more exotic hints of ginger and orange peel. B+
Lagunilla Rioja Reserva 2004 (aka M ‘The Best’ Rioja), Spain (£9.11/£6 Morrisons) A richer, fuller style, still with lots of red berry fruit, plus hints of chocolate and vanilla. Honest and welcoming but just a tad short. B+
The Society’s Côtes-du-Rhône NV (Ogier), France (£6.75 The Wine Society) Young, fresh, almost chillable style, with raspberry flavours and a touch of bubble gum (feels like a touch of carbonic maceration), a little gawky at the moment, but decent peppery finish. B-
Ramparts Côtes du Rhône Villages 2007, France (£9.99/£6 Morrisons) Sweeter and fleshier, with rounder plum and blackberry flavours, some chocolate edges (maybe from a touch of oak?) and a rich earthy finish. B(+)
CVNE Rioja Crianza 2006, Spain (£7.99 Majestic, Booths, www.everywine.co.uk, Wimbledon Wine Cellar) Bouncy pippy berry and bramble – raspberries, loganberries – with a spicy edge, a touch of vanilla rather than a huge dollop, fresh, sappy, tangy finish. Nice wine, tastes of modern Rioja, but also a good refreshing summer red. B+
François Lurton Barco Negro Douro Tinto 2007, Portugal (~£10) Heady, rich warm dark fruit, blackcurrants and blackberry, with earthy overtones, yet despite its brawn, remains fresh, and has a gentle floral/spicy edge. S-
Cantiga Rioja Crianza 2006 (£8.99 The Real Wine Company) Refreshing, vibrant style of wine, with ruddy wild strawberry and plum flesh tinged with cinnamon and clove, and finely-tuned oak adding a touch of vanilla – very tasty and beautifully balanced. S
Viña Pomal Rioja Reserva 2003 (£10.99 Majestic) Showing some mellowness from age, but still with quite rich juicy red berry fruit. The touch of jamminess and slightly dry finish speak of the hot vintage, but overall a decent style with the potential to improve further. S-
Bodegas Orusco ‘Main’ Crianza 2006, Vinos de Madrid (N/A in UK) Broader shouldered than the two Riojas, this also has an extra layer of warmth and there’s also the slightly skin-y character of slightly dried-out fruit. Overall dense and spicy, with chunky berry and blackcurrant flavours. B(+)
Señorio de Val Azul Fabio VI, Vino de Mesa, Spain (N/A in UK) Much bolder, ripe and richer, with a definite raisin edge and an almost roasted meat/savoury character, some smoky vanilla from the oak, and chunky berry flavours. But ultimately a TTH – trying too hard to impress. B+
I’ve got aching upper arm muscles today. Was it a strenuous boxing work out on Wii Fit? A marathon Swingball session in the garden with kids? Or was it having to manhandle two wine bottles that were so heavy that they made your wrists wobble even when they were empty? They were straight out of the silicon implant school of wine packaging, the mine’s-bigger-than-your mentality. How heavy were they precisely? See below…
So that’s a regular bottle, the wonderfully floaty Contino Rioja 1995 which danced gracefully over the course of an evening, and reminded me of nothing more than one of those slightly suspicious Burgundies you could once find, where whatever Pinot Noir there was in the blend (and sometimes there was next to nothing) had been padded out with a generous draft of the warm south. Warming, welcoming, aromatic yet hearty, a wow with some pork fillet baked in the ovening in a mushroomy shroud. Weight of bottle empty, 560g.
But as for our two monoliths…
Yes, the first came in at 1012g, while the other was a whopping 1196g – and that’s without there being any wine in them. I mean, je te demande, who are they trying to impress? Do they seriously think our heads will be swayed just because the bottle wants to be Arnie? Now normally the wine inside these monoliths is trying to show off just as much – wine you could walk a mouse over, as a friend of mine puts it. Overripe, overoaked, overalcoholic etc. But these two, while certainly not from the mousy librarian camp, were actually not OTT.
The left hand one is Santa Helena Don 2005 from Chile’s Colchagua Valley. Don is one of those names which, like Gran doesn’t translate too well into the English language (it stands for De Origen Noble). Mostly Cabernet Sauvignon pepped up with Merlot and Carmenère, it’s just so Chilean, with that slightly minty blackcurrant pastille intense and grainy tannins. I like it’s honest flavours, but I’m not convinced that there’s much complexity here. And at ~£35, I think I deserve some.
The right hand one, winner of the ‘shit that’s heavy’ award, is the Monte da Cal Vinha de Saturno 2004 from the Alentejo. It’s from the dynamic Dão Sul operation, which has wineries dotted around several Portuguese regions (and Brazil), and is a blend of Trincadeira, Aragonez and Alicante Bouschet (some versions also have Baga and/or Touriga Nacional in there somewhere). But whatever its make up, this is good wine. It starts off on the strong and silent side, but then opens up to reveal a strong iron-like minerality, heady aromas of tobacco and olives, and intense but relaxed flavours of berries, blackcurrants and cherries, tinged with chocolate and vanilla. Excellent and very promising, shame about the show-off bottle.
I’ve done posts in the last couple of months whose titles featured cricket and Leonard Cohen, and ended up with Twitter followers from devotees of those two rather different fields. So I thought I’d pack some more non-wine topics into the title of this one and see if the same happens again. There is – honestly – a connection between Keswick, anchovies and going into orbit. Let me explain…
The Keswick bit comes from having just spent several rather soggy days in the Lake District with the family. A bit of walking, a trip to the James Bond museum (where they have the real Little Nellie…), skating on a synthetic ‘ice’ rink, and some late night glasses of wine in our hotel while the kids slumbered and snored in the corner. OK, the plastic beakers out of which we supped would have made Georg Riedel blush, but they served their purpose well.
Enter the anchovies. Ever been to Collioure? It’s the picture postcard village at the far end of France’s Mediterranean coastline just above the Spanish border. Last time I was there was in Jaunary 2007, and we sat on the beach in 20ºC sunshine – it’s not even that today in our English summer. Wander through the back streets of Collioure and you’ll find plenty of anchovy packing factories, all offering you the chance to sample their succulent salty wares. Buy them by the jar full but pack them carefully for your return trip home – can there be anything worse to have swimming round your undies than broken glass, olive oil and a hundred slippery anchovies?
But you might also see amid the fishiness several unstable balconies bowing under the weight of what look like demijohns full of molasses. The contents are sweet and sticky, but it’s actually the fortified wine Banyuls. Some producers make it in a modern, port-style way, but others age it in almost Madeira-fashion under the heat of the southern sun. And it’s delicious – although not with anchovies.
Banyuls is made mostly from Grenache. So too is red Collioure, the dry unfortified version – think slightly jammier, herbier Châteauneuf. White Collioure is somewhat rarer, but can be one of the top whites of southern France. Again, Grenache is the main ingredient, although here, it’s Grenache Gris and Blanc, rather than Grenache Noir. Our Keswick white was the Coume Del Mas Collioure Blanc ‘Folio’ 2007 (£19.50 Berry Bros & Rudd), a creamy yet taut wine with the peachy fruit playing 2nd fiddle to the savoury mineral characters, while the finish manages to combine touches of honey with an almost pine-like fragrance, perhaps from the touch of Vermentino in the blend. Yummy, even out of the toothpaste mug. If you can’t track this one down, M&S has a pretty decent white Collioure in its range, although you won’t find it in all branches.
Speaking of M&S, let’s get onto the going into orbit bit and introduce Telmo Rodriguez. Not content with raising his family estate Remelluri to among the high echelons of Rioja-dom, Telmo’s has become not so much a flying winemaker as a driving one, speeding along the highways of Spain to seek out new and interesting vineyards, no, strike that, OLD and interesting vineyards, and making hay with what he finds – look out for his Galician Gaba do Xil wines and his sumptuous Mountain Malaga (Adnams are his UK agents). The Pérez Burton Rioja 2005 is a wine Telmo’s made on his home turf, and it’s a lovely, open-hearted wine with a gentle spicy/peppery edge to its lithe red berry fruit, and just a touch of vanilla. At £8.99 from Marks & Spencer, it’s very sensibly priced.
And the orbit bit? Just that a few years ago, I was at a dinner at Adnams where Telmo, not the largest of men, was sitting next to the Wine Society’s buyer Toby Morrhall, who is probably 6′ 6″, and built like a BSH, albeit a BSH with padded walls. My neighbour turned to me and said, ‘Telmo had better be careful – if Toby gets up quickly, he’s going to end up going around him in orbit…’
Great day out with the family at Tapas Fantasticas in Manchester’s Albert Square, sponsored by Wines of Rioja. In between slivers of the fabulous Jamon from Grado, Olly Smith aka Syndrome said that the audience for the tastings he was conducting had been both enthusiastic and knowledgeable.
Wine of the day was the Ontañón Gran Reserva 2001, from the high reaches of Rioja Baja. This is one of the most southerly bits of Rioja so it’s on the warm side during the day, but the high altitude means the nights are cool, so there’s never a shortage of acidity. The upshot is a wine with plush berry and plum fruit tinged plus the typical vanilla and spice but that remains remarkably fresh and Tigger-like for a Gran Reserva. Classy stuff, contact Hamilton Yorke for more details.
It’s on again tomorrow, with Susy Atkins taking Olly’s place – careful though as rain is forecast.
