It was time again for my favourite Monday of the month, when I leave work with my head held high and a spring in my step, looking forward (and, of course, upward) to another evening of heady and sensuous delights. This particular Glass Half Fulham meeting had an even more intimate character than usual, as all 14 of us squeezed around tables in GMC’s study as our normal gathering place was unavailable. Perhaps I was the only one who thought that the set-up had the conspiratorial air of a French Resistance meeting, but I blame these feelings of bonhomie for my perhaps unwise decision to volunteer to write this blog entry. Although formal qualifications in oenology are apparently unnecessary for the task, I am a vastly inexperienced wine taster and anyone reading further than this should ensure they are aware of the terms of my disclaimer: aside from the occasional foray into my own personal opinion and what I shall euphemistically call ‘public source information’, the following is based on the seemingly bottomless knowledge of our organiser-in-chief (cheerfully plagiarised from his detailed tasting notes) and the openly democratic musings of fellow Glass Half Fulham members.

Torrontés grapes
The first wine of the evening was also our only white: the
2008 Tapiz Torrontés, Mendoza, Argentina (
Good Wine Shop, £9.75). As the archetypal Argentinean white grape, I was assured that Torrontés simply could not have been left out of our tasting. The three varieties of this grape produce most of Argentina’s wonderful spicy, aromatic whites. This grape is also widely planted in Chile, but most of the harvest, it seems, goes towards the manufacture of the unfortunately-named ubiquitous South American spirit:
Pisco. Perhaps I should not malign Pisco before I have been forced to try it, but this seems like a terrible waste to me. The colour of this wine was a very pale browny-yellow. The aroma was immediately fruity and intense, but also floral, with some describing it as a nectar-like smell. Notes of pear were also discerned. For myself, the aroma reminded me a little of a Riesling from a previous tasting. On tasting, this impression solidified into a persistent honeysuckle nose, with the surprisingly tart flavour, combined with a slight bitterness leading to an impression of grapefruit typical of the variety.
We next moved on to a 100%-Syrah, one of Chile’s newer grape varieties and a hit on the international competitions circuit in 2008. Syrah is being produced in small but growing quantities in Chile and the wine world is watching with anticipation. The wine we sampled, the 2007 Maycas del Limari Syrah Reserva, Limari Valley, Chile (Tesco, £8.99), was an example of a cool-climate Syrah, a class of Chilean wine markedly different from the very recognisable warm-climate Shiraz. Cool-climate Syrah can conjure up detailed and subtle aromas which contrast with the powerfully rich and fruity warm-climate examples of the grape variety. The 2007 Maycas del Limari is deeply, inkily purple with enormous legs befitting its 14.5%. The aroma is immediately full of dark red berries with a suggestion of plums. On closer inspection, meaty and earthy smells can be detected, as well as a surprising and subtle hint of menthol (perhaps another indicator of the wine’s strength). On tasting the wine, the meatiness remains, as does the earthy, slightly port-like taste. Now spiciness in the form of black pepper and vanilla notes also comes through. However, the overall impression of the taste was that it was surprisingly thin for the promise of the aroma and the tenacious tannins sealed my impression of this one: one to try for the complex smells, but not if you want a pleasant tipple of an evening. [JK: I was one of the few dissenters - I enjoyed this!]
Now we moved onto Carmenère and one of the most interesting tales of Chilean wine history. Carmenère was mistaken for a long time for a simple variant of Merlot, even though the two varieties ripen at different times and consequently can impart very different characters to wine if harvested at the same time. The variety was imported from Bordeaux with Merlot vines in the mid-19th century just before the phylloxera epidemic of the 1860s got underway. Carmenère needs quite a dry growing season and the climate in parts of Chile perfectly suited the variety. In addition to this (and this is what makes Carmenère so particular to Chilean wines), Carmenère turned out to be an erratic performer when grafted onto phylloxera-resistant rootstocks and so the variety all but died out in the rest of the world. Chile, however, never had a large problem with phylloxera due to the country’s relative geographical isolation. So Carmenère flourished virtually unnoticed in Chile until 1996, when it was officially recognised as a distinct grape variety from Merlot.
Carmenère is a tricky variety to use in wine without blending with other varieties. Its natural growth schedule produces a lots of sugars before the tannins soften and so hot climates can lead to some overpoweringly strong and unbalanced wines. The first offering to be tasted, the 2008 Morrisons The Best Chilean Carmenere Reserva, Colchagua Valley, Chile (Morrisons, £6.74, bought on offer at £3.99), weighed in at 14% and this set the trend for the other two Carmenères to be tasted (14% and 14.5%). The Morrisons Carmenère was ruby-coloured and had a much fresher and more herbal aroma than I would have expected from a red wine. We detected herbs (mint or parsley), redcurrants, blackberries and tar, though the aroma was lacking in complexity. It seems likely that the herbal smells may have indicated that the grapes for this wine were harvested fairly early, which would reportedly impart to Carmenère an aggressive herbal aroma. I’m nearly sure that negative initial impressions of the wine were not the effect of unconscious suggestions made by the wine’s provenance (at this point we did not know the price…). The taste, however, backed up the initial impressions, with the wine being described as initially like saltwater, then balanced, but dusty or musty and without much depth.
The next Carmenère to be tasted was in fact a 60-40 Carmenère-Carignan blend: the 2007 Terra Andina Altos Carmenère-Carignan, Central Valley, Chile (Oddbins, £9.99). This wine immediately impressed, with its oaky, resinous smells, described by some (in a not unkind way) as like “synthetic cleaning spirit” on first impressions, though this may have had something to do with the 14% ABV. Also detectable in the aroma were all sorts of berries, which we struggled to describe as like strawberries and cassis until someone said that they were reminded of bilberries. Since no more than two or three of us have ever eaten a bilberry, we will have to take their word for it. The taste of the wine was tart and textured with tannins, though neither impression was overpowering. The “berry clichés” continued and some began to describe the flavour as like coffee or chocolate. We settled on mocha.
Our final Carmenère was an interesting one. The 2007 Errázuriz Single Vineyard Don Maximiano Estate Carmenère, Aconcagua Valley, Chile (Harrods, £16.95) was another dense, inky purple wine and again some smokiness was present in the aroma. Some compared it to dried tobacco and some to burning tobacco. We could even agree on a brand: Gauloises. On top of that were more herbal aromas, this time the woodier herbs: thyme or rosemary. Brandy notes were also present. The basic taste of the wine was simultaneously sweeter than we had been used to and also slightly salty. Smokiness was a continuing feature, as well as a return of the black pepper character noted in the Limari Valley Syrah earlier on. For some reason, I have written ‘pencil shavings’ below all this, but this could have been a moment of madness.
The next two wines were both 100%-Malbec and were from Argentina. Malbec is grown widely in Argentina due to the large swathes of the country that are both suitable in climate for viniculture and also above 1000m, the altitude above which Malbec vines are happiest. The first wine, the 2008 Altos del Condor Trapiche Vineyards Malbec, Mendoza, Argentina (Marks & Spencer, £6.99), was impressive and edged out the Terra Andina Altos Carmenère-Carignan by one vote to become the favourite wine of the night (I must confess I changed my vote to the Torrontés, which upset the tie between the two very good reds). The Altos del Condor Trapiche Malbec was a dark, browny-purple colour and had an enticing aroma of brown sugar and rum, with notes of chocolate. Soft, sweet smokiness was also evident. After tasting, the general impression was of a rich and tasty wine, reminiscent of fruits again, but sweeter ones. One suggestion was peaches. A slight herbal impression was interpreted as a tea-like flavour. We actually tried this with Cashel Blue cheese, one of three delicious cheeses designed to complement the characters of the wines. The blue cheese was a perfect match for this powerful wine.
The next two wines, I am sad to say, showed strong evidence of being corked. The promising 2006 Familia Schroeder Saurus Patagonia Select Malbec, Neuquén, Argentina (Cavas De Gaucho, £14.40) had an initially thin smell which strengthened into strong acetone, some sulphur and rubber. Someone described it as “like being on the air-side of an airport: like burning kerosene”. The taste was predictably thin and acidic and reminded me of the charred bits of grilled chicken. Do not judge this wine on this review, though, as there was clearly a wine fault.
The final wine was our only offering from Uruguay. The 2004 Pizzorno Tannat Reserva, Canelones, Uruguay (The Sampler, £12.49) had an immediate aroma of soy sauce (I thought plum sauce, as you might have on duck). Others said Worcester sauce, balsamic, Bovril and the charming “like the breath of a cow with ketosis”. Listening in to descriptions of the taste, I heard “ick”, “blech”, “eurch”, “ach” and “eesch”. Whilst we were not all in agreement that it was off, we certainly agreed that it was, at best, an ‘unusual’ experience. I, for one, will be seeking out another Uruguayan wine so that I can set the record straight about this promising and usually unmentioned New World wine-producing country.
All-in-all, a very enjoyable tasting was had by all. It was a pity about the corked bottles, but if you never taste a clear-cut example of an off wine, it becomes quite hard to judge whether the bottle you’ve ordered in a restaurant is just cheap or is something worse. On my shopping list are more Torrontés wines to replace the bottle I have just finished (who’s calling me biased?) and that very good value Malbec: 2008 Altos del Condor Trapiche Vineyards Malbec, Mendoza.
(report by GH)
Apologies for the lack of pictures: we forgot to take some this month!