Posts Tagged ‘food pairings’
Saved by the food
With a few blessed exceptions, South American wines aren’t my cup of tea. But hope springs eternal and every now and then I buy a few bottles for a tasting or my table as a kind of reality check. Which is how I ended up with this new arrival, a popular Argentinean Malbec. One of my issues with these wines is their lack of versatility: what can you serve them with besides a grilled hunk of red meat? Unwilling to dig the barbie out of the snow and brave minus 10 degree temperatures and stuck foraging at the local green grocer, I came up with a stir-fry of beef tenderloin and chorizo that actually did the wine a favour and was fast and tasty enough to make again. You’ll find the recipe after the jump. But first, the vino.
Malbec 2010, Terroir, Valle de Uco, Altos Las Hormigas ($21.25, 12068379)
100% Malbec from several vineyards. Manually harvested. The different lots of grapes are vinified separately. After gentle pressing, the grapes are cold macerated for five days at 10ºC in stainless steel tanks. Alcoholic fermentation (with indigenous yeasts) at 28-30ºC lasts for 12 days with three pump-overs a day and three rack-and-returns. About two-thirds of the wine is matured in French oak barrels. 14.5% ABV.
Strawberry, black raspberry, chocolate, dried herbs, earth and red meat, faint cinnamon and bacon. A sip and the wine shows super ripe and juicy but doesn’t tip over into fruit bomb territory. Why? Well, the initial lollipop fades fast, giving way to earthier, more savoury flavours. Plus it’s not monolithic: the sugar’s held in check, there’s some souring acidity and the tannins, round at first, gain some astringency and grit as the wine wends its way through the mouth. Unfortunately, though the fruit per se isn’t devoid of appeal, the oak starts drawing attention to itself, a sad reality that persists through the flaring, chocolate-kirschy finish. Many, maybe even most, will love this but I found it cloying and inebriating, far from undrinkable but not delivering much pleasure. Something’s not right when you have to rely on the food – and not light food at that – to refresh your palate and rescue the wine. (Buy again? Unlikely.)
Victorious
Cerasuolo di Vittoria Classico 2010, Azienda Agricola COS ($36.25, 11577391)
A blend of biodynamically and organically farmed Nero d’Avola (60%) and Frappato (40%) from quarter-century vines. Fermentation is with indigenous yeasts and takes place in glass-lined concrete tanks. The varieties are fermented separately: the Nero at 30 to 33ºC, the Frappato at 28ºC. Maturation, which lasts 18 to 24 months, is in oak barrels for the Nero and concrete tanks for the Frappato. Unfiltered and minimally sulphured. 13% ABV.
Dusty cherry and elderberry, sun-baked earth, hints of leather, old wood, tobacco, flowers and licorice. Medium-bodied yet intensely present. The fruit, sweet and silky up front, fades and dries into the mid-palate as tertiary, mineral and earth flavours unspool. The acidity may be low-key but it’s sufficient to keep the wine fresh and buoyant, while the structurally light tannins add a firm astringency. The finish – long, drying and savoury – has an appetizing sour edge. Like all COS wines, this is a model of elegance and balance. The price may be creeping into treat territory but you won’t find a finer, more engaging Cerasuolo di Vittoria. A brilliant pairing for lasagne made from scratch but versatile enough to serve with a wide range of white meats, well-done red meats and deep-flavoured vegetarian dishes. (Buy again? Yes.)
Sultry Nebbiolo
Langhe Nebbiolo 2011, Prinsìot, Fratelli Alessandria ($28.45, 12131104)
100% Nebbiolo from ten-year-old vines grown in the Verduno commune. The temperature-controlled (27-28°C) fermentation is with indigenous yeasts and lasts six to nine days. The wine then spends 12 months in large French and Slavonian oak botti, two to three months in oak casks and two months in the bottle. 14.5% ABV.
The 14.5% nearly scared me off but I’m glad it didn’t. Heady nose – if the alcohol stands out anywhere it’s here – of cherry, plum and spice with some distant notes of rose, tar and wood. A sip shows the wine to be a middleweight. There may be more concentration and richness than usual but it’s not at the expense of focus or freshness. The fruit is intense and sweet, even a little cordial-like. Bright acidity cuts the glycerinish texture. Finely astringent tannins add welcome grit and dryness. A faint earthiness colours the finish, which, somewhat surprisingly, stays cool though to the end. Better balanced than I expected it would be. Though not a shrinking violet, it remains true to type: this isn’t a Barolo wannabe. (Buy again? If in the mood for a sultry Nebbiolo to accompany a deep-flavoured dish like osso buco with porcini, yes.)
Not your (Chilean) grandfather’s Carménère
IGT Veneto 2010, Carménère, Più, Inama ($20.95, 11389074)
Carménère (70%) and Merlot (30%) from vines between ten and 42 years of age. Manually harvested and fully destemmed. Fermented close to two weeks, then racked into new tanks for malolactic fermentation, all in stainless steel tanks. Matured in second-fill 225-litre French oak barrels for 12 months, then racked, filtered and bottled. Unfined. 14% ABV.
Black raspberry, plum, graphite and a whiff of vanilla and menthol, evolving toward gingerbread and tomato. Medium-bodied. Dry. Starts out all sweet fruit and spice but, from the mid-palate on, the dominating factor is a surging current of, well, what? At first I pegged it as bitterness – bitterness approaching the level of an amaro digestif like Fernet-Branca – but as the wine breathed I began leaning toward astringency. Let’s compromise on bitter astringency and note that it lingers long after the rest of finish has disappeared. Structure-wise the wine is supple, with enough acidity and some light, raspy tannins that seem distinct from the astringency. Unusual (though the tail end of the bottle seemed less unconventional the next day) and certainly one of the more interesting Carménères I’ve encountered, light years ahead of most of its Chilean counterparts. That said, this won’t be to everybody’s taste. Also, it’s not a wine to sip on its own. The winemaker’s suggestion of grilled pork as a pairing seems spot on. Or how about bollito misto? (Buy again? Maybe.)
MWG February 13th tasting (2/5): Hushed awe
Domaine Comte Abbatucci’s three flagship wines are grouped under the Cuvée Collection banner. All are blends of little known and, in some cases, nearly extinct Corsican grape varieties with less uncommon varieties like Vermetinu. Each is named after one of the family’s ancestors. The estate has also begun making two mid-range monovarietal wines, one white and one red, both from obscure varieties. As none of the wines qualify for AOC status, all bear the vin de table designation, meaning neither the vintage nor the constituent grape varieties can be mentioned on the label (Abbatucci stamps the vintage on the cork, which is how we knew our bottles were 2011s).
Vin de table (2011), BR, Domaine Comte Abbatucci ($51.00, 11930123)
100% biodynamically and organically farmed Barbarossa, a red-skinned grape variety here given the blanc de noirs treatment. The first vines were planted in the 1960s. The grapes are manually harvested and pressed immediately after picking. Fermented (with indigenous yeasts) and matured in stainless steel tanks. Bottled unfiltered and unfined. 2,000 bottles made. 13% ABV.
Initially reticent but eventually deep. Minerally and floral with hint of lemoncello and a faint herby overtone, like maquis or hops. Round yet very fresh in the mouth, the fruit structured by a crystalline minerality and enlightened by acidity. A faint, pleasing bitterness threads through the long finish. Breathtakingly pure and pristine, not to mention unique. (Buy again? Gladly.)
Vin de table (2011), Il Cavalière Diplomate de l’Empire, Domaine Comte Abbatucci ($64.00, 11930191)
A blend of biodynamically and organically farmed Vermentinu (c. 40%) with lesser amounts of Rossola Bianca (aka Ugni Blanc aka Trebbiano), Biancu Gentile, Genovèse and possibly Brustiano (aka Vermentino?!) from vines averaging 50 years of age. Manually harvested. Slow fermentation with indigenous yeasts in stainless steel tanks. The fermented must is transferred to 600-litre used oak barrels for 12 months’ maturation. Unfiltered and unfined. 13% ABV. 1,500 bottles made. Named after Don Jacques Pascal Abbatucci (1765-1851), a childhood friend of Napoleon who served as an Imperial diplomat in Naples and fought at Waterloo.
Complex, nuanced nose of lemon, baked apple, maquis, fennel and wax, among other things. Slightly less dry than the BR. Dense and full, verging on lush but in no way flabby. On the contrary, there’s an enthralling tension and impeccable balance. Minerally and savoury with sweeter hints of stone fruit and a bitter undertow. Long, multifaceted, complete. The kind of wine that sticks in your memory for days. Arguably deserving of a place alongside France’s best whites. As a food pairing, the estate suggests simply prepared lobster seasoned only with a drizzle of fine olive oil. (Buy again? If the budget permits, yes, because, believe it or not, the wine’s if anything underpriced.)
The sketchiness of my notes is due partly to the wines’ being hard to describe; it’s a challenge to pin down what makes them so special. Also, the hushed awe that fell over the table when the first sniffs and sips were taken was soon broken by a distracting burst of comment and discussion, all of it positive. Several tasters expressed astonishment that wines of such quality and refinement could come from Corsica. Even the group’s resident white wine skeptic acknowledged their appeal and took second pours. Tellingly, both bottles were drained on the spot.
Given the tiny quantities produced, it’s surprising that the wines are even available in Quebec, let alone at the SAQ. They arrived at the Signature stores last fall and, though I wanted to include them in a tasting, the opportunity didn’t present itself and I’d assumed they were all gone. Fast-forward to early February, when Kermit Lynch’s monthly mailer showed up in my inbox with four 2012 Abbatuccis on page one. What struck me was the price: the three Collection wines were going for US$98 a bottle. Wondering whether I’d misremembered the SAQ price, I went to SAQ.com, which now lists products no longer in stock. Not only were the prices for the 2011s up to 40% cheaper in Quebec, there were still bottles of the BR, the CN (more on which anon) and one of the Collection whites available for purchase.
First-rate second growth
Sauternes 2008, Château Doisy-Védrines ($25.50/350 ml, 11843177)
A 2ième cru classé de Barsac (Barsac is one of five Sauternes communes; its AOC wines can be labelled Sauternes or Barsac at the producer’s discretion). Sémillon (80%), Sauvignon Blanc (17%) and Muscadelle (3%). Manually harvested in multiple passes through the vineyard. Gently pressed then fermented for three to four weeks in temperature-controlled stainless steel vats. Matured 15 to 18 months in French oak barrels, around two-thirds of which are new. Filtered and fined before bottling. 13.5% ABV.
Classic nose: peach, citrus (orange? Meyer lemon?), hints of tropical fruit, honey, butterscotch, sweet oak and botrytis. Lush but not heavy, sweet but not cloying, in no small part due to the lively acidity. The fruit hasn’t totally lost its connection with the grape – not a given in Bordeaux’s sweet wines. Otherwise, the palate echoes the nose. A light wash of coconut and vanilla colours the long finish, which is blessedly free of the solvent notes that occasionally show up in Sauternes. Not as deep as some overachievers but with stuffing and balance enough to age for at least a decade. For now though, it’s delicious on its own and will surely accompany traditional pairings like Roquefort and foie gras to a T. (Buy again? Yes.)
An evening with Olivier Guyot (3/6)
The Favières vineyard is located toward the bottom of the Marsannay hillside. The Guyot vines were planted in the 1980s. The estate makes another red Marsannay (dubbed La Montagne) from 90-year-old vines located at the top of the slope.
Marsannay 2010, Les Favières, Domaine Olivier Guyot ($35.75, 11906035)
100% Pinot Noir. 12% ABV. SAQ.com shows small quantities of this as being available. At the date of this posting, those bottles are all 2009s. The 2010s are in the SAQ’s warehouse and will be released in the coming weeks.
Primary: grapey nose only hinting at berries, spice, kirsch and oak. Supple, with airframe tannins and sleek acidity – silk to the 2009’s velours. The clean, ripe fruit is joined by some darker humus and mineral notes that linger into the sustained finish. Seems full of potential but a little out of sorts for now; will probably hit its stride in six months or a year. (Buy again? Yes.)
Marsannay 2009, Les Favières, Domaine Olivier Guyot ($35.75, 11906035)
100% Pinot Noir. 13% ABV. A few bottles remain in the system (showing as the 2010 on SAQ.com.
Darker and more reticent, the berries tending to black, the forest floor mixed with savoury herbs and charred oak. On the palate, the fruit is very ripe – not jammy but a little candied. Plush tannins and relatively low acidity give the wine a chewy texture. Broader than the other two but also not as deep. Some smoke appears on the finish. On its own, an amiable wine though more earthbound, less vital than its older and younger siblings. (Buy again? Not in preference to the 2010.)
Marsannay 2008, Les Favières, Domaine Olivier Guyot ($36.25 as a private import in 2012, NLA)
100% Pinot Noir. 12.5% ABV.
Beginning to express itself: red berries, leafmould, spice, kirsch and a touch of cola and vanilla oak. In a phrase, ça pinote. Still tight – maybe firm is a better word – but full, round and well balanced. The ripe fruit is structured by sinewy tannins and shot through with sliver threads of acidity. Sustained finish. The most complete of the three, though that may be partly a function of age. (Buy again? Moot but yes.)
This vertical showed the accuracy of Olivier’s vintage judgements: the unappreciated 2008 turning out classic, structured, long-lived wines; the overhyped 2009 giving birth to fruit-forward wines often short on finesse and best drunk in their youth; and 2010 a winegrower’s vintage capable of producing elegant, balanced expressions of terroir. He suggests drinking the Favières fairly young with grilled beef tenderloin.
Striking gold at Orange Rouge
The parallels were eerie. Dinner at a new-to-me restaurant. Spotting a vintageless Langhe Nebbiolo on the short wine list. Inquiring whether it might be the just-arrived Produttori del Barbaresco bottling and being met with incomprehension from the server, who offers to fetch a bottle and see. A eureka moment when the bottle is brought to the table. And a revelation when the wine is drunk with the food.
It first happened in March of 2012 at the now-defunct Jane. And it happened again the other night at Orange Rouge.
At a tasting a little more than a year ago, the Produttori’s general manager Aldo Vacca mentioned that after the “light” 2010s and “extremely ripe” 2011s, the low-yielding 2012 vintage was “ideal.” So I was stoked when I saw that the cooperative’s 2012 Langhe Nebbiolo had shown up at the SAQ ($23.70, 11383617). I’d reserved a couple of bottles but hadn’t tasted it.
Meanwhile back at Orange Rouge, we were having a hard time deciding what to order. Among the big dishes, both the roast duck and the three-ways arctic char beckoned. But discovering the wine clinched it: we were going for the quacker. “Be aware the duck requires about 30 minutes to prepare,” the server said. “You might want to order a few small dishes to eat while you wait.”
That we did, along with a 750 ml bottle of Ferran Adrià’s Estrella Damm Inedit ($8.30 at the SAQ, 11276336). The sriracha peanuts came in a small bowl and were crunchy-caramelized, mildly salty/spicy/sweet and compulsively edible. The popcorn shrimp, well breaded and deep-fried to a crispy brown, tasted of the sea and, if they didn’t exactly pop, they definitely snapped. A salad of fresh mint sprigs in a light, savoury, subtly spiced vinaigrette was delicious on its own and a quantum leap better with the garnish of crumbled fresh goat cheese. The beer more than held its own with everything: softly fragrant and effervescent, clean and light enough to refresh the palate and, with its delicate white spice and orange peel notes, complex enough to play off the spices in the food. In other contexts it has left me unconvinced, but here it was ideal.
Just after the wine was opened and poured, the duck made a spectacular entrance: a bed of stir-fried (?) napa cabbage, ringed by thin, overlapping slices of duck breast, crowned with mahogany-skinned thighs, wings and drumsticks and bed-headed with a shock of julienned carrot and zucchini. On a separate platter came a fan of largish half-moon steamed buns, a soy-based dipping sauce and cilantro leaves. The duck’s breast and extremities may have been cooked separately, as each was done to moist, rosy perfection; the pieces we savoured on their own, the breast slices with the buns. The cabbage, which required time and some digging to get at, had no wok hai but duck juice mojo in spades. The dish was a lot for three people, easily enough for four or, with an added side or two, six; still, there was never a question of our not polishing it off. It was, in a word, glorious, the best duck any of us has encountered in a restaurant or maybe anywhere. And it puts the “Peking” duck at places like Mon Nan and Cristal Chinois to shame.
The only side we ordered was a small dish of burned eggplant, the silken flesh garnished with bonito shavings and plated with a smear of mild green chile sauce. Delectable.
The Langhe proved an absolute delight, fully deserving of its advance billing. Redolent of cherry and blackberry with hints of tar, rose and anise, despite being served in small Duralex tumblers. Supple and fluid yet intensely flavoured at its core, the acidity illuminating, the tannins ripe and rasping, the sweet fruit lilting over a ground bass of slate, wood and earth. Delicious on its own, it sang with the duck and did bel canto duets with the eggplant. In short, a wine to buy by the case.
Stuffed to the gills, we could find room only for a small bowl of house-made orange ice cream served with three spoons. Smooth and silky, not very sweet and haunted more than flavoured by the citrus, it had a soft peppery kick from a scattering of slivered candied ginger.
The damage? With one bottle of beer and two bottles of the Langhe (the resto’s markup on alcohol appears to be the standard 110%, alas), $250 for three or $85 a person, including taxes but before tip. The food alone came to less than $50 per. A bit pricey compared with other Chinatown eateries, perhaps. Then again, other Chinatown eateries aren’t really comparable.
The Langhe’s distribution appears to be spotty. Some stores are currently showing inventories approaching and even exceeding 100 bottles. Others have received only a fraction of that number and are quickly blowing through their stock. A second shipment is slated to arrive in a month or so. Still, to be on the safe side, you should act fast. You simply will not find a more beguling Old World red at the regular price. And if you reserve your bottles now and pick them up on Valentine’s Day weekend, you’ll get 10% off (if part of a total purchase of $100 or more), which has to make this the QPR winner of the year.
Failing that, put together a party of food and wine lovers and make a beeline for Orange Rouge.
oenopole workshop: charcuteries + uve italiane (2/3)
The workshop’s raison d’être was the second flight and its centrepiece, a long board covered with an impressive array of charcuterie made by Ségué Lepage of Le Comptoir charcuteries et vins: buttery pork liver mousse, dried sausages flavoured with fennel seed or cumin, coppa, soppressata, porchetta di testa (slices of a large rolled sausage, the Italian take on headcheese), pâté de campagne, chorizo and a couple I’m forgetting. Accompaniments included cornichons, pickled fennel and Le Comptoir’s irresistible cumin “mustard,” though the quality of the salumi was so high they seemed unnecessary, like gilt for a lily.
Sangiovese di Romagna 2011, Scabi, San Valentino ($18.00, 11019831)
The 28-hectare estate is located just inland from Rimini on Italy’s Adriatic coast. 100% Sangiovese from decade-old vines. Manually harvested, destemmed, macerated at low temperature for eight days then fermented with indigenous yeasts in temperature-controlled stainless steel tanks. Half the wine is matured in stainless steel and half in second-fill oak barrels for six months. Sulphur is added only at bottling. 14% ABV.
Dired cherry, spice, background leather, turned earth and terracotta and a kirschy high note. Velevty texture. Fruit forward but not a bomb, thanks in part to the coursing acidity. Dark minerals and just a hint of oak add depth. Fine tannins lend an astringent edge to the finish. The best vintage of this wine to date and a definite QPR winner. (Buy again? Yep.)
> Handled the crazy delicious pork liver mousse better than any other wine in the flight. Ditto the chile-spiced sausages, probably due to its juicy fruit. Still, this food-friendly wine is arguably even better suited to fare like grilled meats and vegetables and savoury, tomato-based pasta dishes (spaghetti with meat ragu or pesto rosso, for example).
Langhe 2011, Nebbiolo, Produttori del Barbaresco ($23.10, 11383617)
100% Nebbiolo from young vines, all of which are located within the Barbaresco DOC. Fermented with selected “Barolo” yeasts at 28ºC in stainless steel tanks. Macerated on the skins for 24 days. Matured six months in very large oak barrels. No fining, light filtering, minimal sulphur dioxide. 14.5% ABV according to the label; 13.5% ABV according to the SAQ (I suspect the label is closer to the truth).
Cherry, underbrush, slate, old wood, hints of truffle and kirsch. Smooth and silky, with clean fruit, bright acidity and fine, supple tannins. Underlying minerals give depth. Good length and beautiful balance. As predicted, this has come together in the months since it first appeared on the SAQ’s shelves. Unbeatable QPR. (Buy again? Of course.)
> Best with the very fresh-tasting pâté de campagne and coppa. It also played interestingly with the spice in the cumin saucisson, whose saltiness brought out the wine’s fruit.
Cerasuolo di Vittoria 2010, Classico, Azienda Agricola COS ($33.75, 11577391)
Biodynamically farmed Nero d’Avola (60%) and Frappato (40%) from 25-year-old vines. Temperature-controlled fermentation with indigenous yeasts in concrete vats. Aged in barrels for 18 to 24 months. Bottled unfiltered. 13% ABV.
Beautiful wafting nose: dried cherry and cranberry, garrigue, sun-baked earth, air-dried beef. Medium-bodied with a silky, almost Burgundian texture. The fruit, as savoury as sweet, glows with a soft acidity. Slatey minerals and fine but lightly raspy tannins add texture and interest. Long and, above all, remarkably fresh. (Buy again? Yes, despite the 15% price increase from last year’s 2009.)
> Probably the most versatile wine of the bunch. Didn’t clash with anything, was relatively unfazed by the chile-flavoured sausages but went especially well with the fennel sausage.
Barolo 2009, Serralunga, Principiano Ferdinando ($39.75, 11387301)
Principiano’s entry-level Barolo. 100% Nebbiolo grapes from 3.5 hectares of young vines. The hand-picked, crushed grapes ferment with indigenous yeasts and no added sulfur for about a month. Matured 24 months in 20- and 40-hectolitre barrels and then in bottle. Bottled unfiltered and unfined. Vegan-compatible. Annual production: about 20,000 bottles. 14% ABV.
Cherry, a bit candied (PEZ if you must know), mowed field, old wood, iron dust, hint of vanilla and violet. Medium-bodied. Richly flavoured but fresh, a mouthful of satiny fruit with soft spicy overtones, lacy if drying tannins and sleek acidity. Elegant, complete, a pleasure to drink. A second bottle opened two days later came across as a little less special (bottle variation? different context?) but still attention-worthy. Not a long ager though it won’t suffer – and may well benefit – from a year or two in the cellar. Another QPR winner. (Buy again? Yes.)
> Achieved synergy with the superb prochetta di testa. Surprisingly good with the liver pâté. Handled the cumin and fennel sausages with aplomb though the coppa let more of the wine come through.
Barolo 2008, Fratelli Alessandria ($41.25, 11797094)
100% Nebbiolo from six vineyards. Manually harvested. Fermented and macerated from 12 to 15 days in temperature-controlled tanks. Matured 32 to 34 months in large Slavonian and French oak casks, two months in stainless steel tanks and six or more months in the bottle. 14% ABV.
A nose more tertiary than the Principiano’s: coffee and cherry with hints of chocolate, licorice, raw meat, truffle, fresh herbs, tomato. The richest and roundest of the Nebbiolos though still medium-bodied. Savoury fruit, plush, firm tannins, chugging acidity and a long, vaporous finish. In contrast to the nose, still a bit primary on the palate, though far from inaccessible. (Buy again? Yes.)
> Worked best with the mildly flavoured dried sausages, the porchetta di testa and the cured meats. The chile-spiced sausages brought out the tannins and the liver mousse give it a faintly metallic taste. Would probably be more at home with a rabbit and mushroom ragu served over pappardelle and showered with Parmesan.
The wines’ lively acidity and savoury character meant they all paired well with these fatty, salty foods. For me, the most unexpected aspect of the tasting was seeing how the different Nebbiolos worked – or didn’t – with a given charcuterie, in particular the pork liver mousse. That said, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the higher-end wines were a bit out of place, that, however convincingly, they were slumming a little. A fascinating exercise, then, but one I’d love to repeat with more rustic wines, like certain Barberas, Dolcettos, Pelavergas and Ruchès.
oenopole workshop: charcuteries + uve italiane (1/3)
A group of wine writers, bloggers and broadcasters were recently summoned to oenopole world headquarters for another of the agency’s workshops devoted to food and wine pairings (previously: oysters, Greek wines with non-Greek dishes). This atelier focused on charcuterie and Italian grape varieties. As the group assembled, a nearly Italian white was poured to wet our whistles.
Corse Figari 2010, Blanc, Clos Canarelli ($40.00, 11794660)
Based in Figari, the southernmost wine-growing region in Corsica and the sunniest in France, Yves Canarelli today has 28 hectares of vineyards in production and makes his wines in a spanking new gravity-fed facility. His white Corse Figari is 100% organically and biodynamically farmed Vermentinu (aka Vermintno). The grapes are manually harvested, fermented with indigenous yeasts and allowed to undergo partial malolactic fermentation. Matured six to eight months on the lees in neutral foudres and barriques. Lightly filtered before bottling. 13% ABV.
Waxed lemon, crushed rock and a hint of herbs. Smooth and satiny, dense but balanced and fresh. Acidity streams quietly beneath the sleek surface. A faintly bitter vein snakes through the mineral substrate. The long finish is inflected with preserved lemon and salt. Perhaps even finer than the 2011. Though this worked surprisingly well as a aperitif, it’ll really sing with fish or Corsican cheeses. (Buy again? Yes.)
Brett happens 