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Leamington Letters #1: Unacquired tastes

22/10/2011

4 Comments

 
What is this stuff I’m drinking?

Actually, I know exactly what it is: it’s a left bank cru bourgeois claret, from a good year. It’s what used to be called an English luncheon claret: low alcohol, linear tannins, a hint of pencil sharpenings, black – slightly sour – fruit.  In other words, exactly the kind of red I have loved since I started drinking wine seriously forty or more years ago.

But it doesn’t taste right. And it’s my fault.

I’ve been in the south of France for too long, and the French do not drink outside their region. So my palate has adjusted to the higher alcohol, bigger fruit and broader tannins of the Rhône and the Languedoc.

It matters because Tim Hollis-Carroll from Enotria is presenting Christophe and I with a selection of Bordeaux and Burgundy reds for the new Wilde’s wine list, and I’m finding all these clarets thin and unappealing. I’m concerned that, to compensate for my new tastes, I will go for a bigger, Parker-ized claret rather than the traditional style which is required to fill this particular gap in our current list. I let Tim and Christophe make the decision.

The Pinot Noir tasting is less of an issue; not least because in a strong field there is one wine which really stands out. It’s a Bourgogne Haut Cotes de Nuits, grown in the hills above Chambolle Musigny and made by the small domaine of Laurent Roumier. Despite an excellent Beaune 1ère Cru and a surprisingly good wild card Californian (Avant Garde from the Taittinger-owned Domaine Carneros), the Roumier is ripe and elegant, with an extraordinarily long finish. It’s clearly the right choice for Wilde’s patrons. I can't wait to linger over a bottle when I have re-educated my palate.

That process, of course, has already started. Later, with venison, we drink Prélude à Grand Puy Ducasse 2003, the chateau’s second wine. It’s an affordable and typical Pauillac which opens up beautifully in the glass and reminds me of what I have been missing.

You see, it’s not easy compiling a wine list. It’s not enough to choose your favourite wines and then sit back enjoying the fruits (and tannins) of your labours. Different tastes, different varieties, different countries, different vintages, different price points must be accommodated; a palate which is exclusively focused on a single style cannot get the balance right.

I’m looking forward to restoring my taste buds to their previous, eclectic, state.

Today’s listening: Grateful Dead. The re-mastered 1972 European tour. Was it really this good?

4 Comments
Dianne Taimsalu
24/10/2011 02:42:51 am

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Dianne taimsalu link
24/10/2011 02:54:48 am

Have tried a couple of p---y wines down here recently - "Communion avec la Nature" vin de pays de Cevennes and our good old Bourdic merlot which is having a bad year. Both of them have gone in a single bottle put aside for cooking, but they will probably ruin a good daube - cooking needs good wine too. So I know what you mean about the palate. I find it quite difficult even to drink many "Côtes du Rhone wines after a diet mainly of local reds.

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kevin phelps link
27/10/2011 01:34:17 am

Now you have me seriously worried as I am returning to Leamington tomorrow, will my bottle of Peroni at Wildes be as refreshing now I have become accustomed to Tsing Tao?

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Leon
30/10/2011 03:30:47 am

If I lived in the south of France, I wouldn’t ‘drink outside the region’ either, Max - especially when it comes to red wine. Here in Burgundy, though, I find it difficult to remain loyal to the local product because even a half-way decent bottle costs a lot more than I can afford. (Can we agree that inexpensive grenache, syrah or even gamay are often fine –but that inexpensive pinot noir very often isn’t?) That’s why I do what a lot of people around here do for everyday red – I buy Côtes du Rhône.

Of course, I feel no need, and certainly no inclination, to stray beyond the boundaries of Saône et Loire when I drink white. But I know that, when we come over to the UK later this year, I’ll find it hard to swallow white Mâcon, however delicious, when costs twice as much as it does here. In fact, I guess that the most difficult adjustment, all round, will be in the pocket, not on the palate.


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    Max Smith

    European writer, radical, retiring restaurateur and Red Sox fan. 60-something (pretty close to 70-something) husband, father, step-father, grandfather and son. Resident in Leamington Spa, England.

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