Croft makes my favourite wine of the year

Croft Quinta da Roêda Vintage Port 1997 (about $20, per service)

Don't hate me for mentioning port in my year-end look back at the favourite wines I've drunk. Port is wine -- fortified wine -- or wine fortified by the addition of grape brandy. Brandy is a spirit. It's distilled which is where some people like to draw the line between wine and all other alcoholic beverages. Wine is fermented, hence it is alive. Tipple is distilled and therefore it lacks soul.

But port, or port wine, is still mainly wine -- basically 4/5 fermented grapes. That one-fifth brandy actually is created from distilling other wine. So though port is a small part distilled spirit, all of port's "spirit," so to speak, is wine, through and through.

Here's something else of interest: Who knew that the Portuguese have a definition for Canada, one that likely predates Canada the country? In Portuguese, Canada is a measure used in making port wine. It's "the amount a man should drink everyday [which is the equivalent of] 2 liters" (note the non-Canadian spelling of litres). I got this information from the Croft website glossary. I hope they're talking about drinking water here, because 2 litres a day of port wine or even the most watered-down wine sounds deadly. I have no idea how using this measure actually helps in the production of port wine.

Speaking of appropriate portions, since port is fortified wine it is best delivered in small amounts, definitely in smaller amounts than wine. Higher alcohol, greater concentration and denser viscosity all work to limit your intake of port in one sitting. So it's no wonder port can cost three or four times that of a fine table wine. A single bottle of port will often last over three or four dinners in the average two-person household. Where the 750mL bottle of table wine is something I'd consider "one service" (i.e. it is entirely served during the meal at a dinner for two), the exact same size bottle of port is what I'd call three or four services (i.e. it is not entirely served during a dinner for two; it would have additional services left in it).

Using this principle, I'm squeezing an $85 bottle of port by my spend-about-$20 rule. This is cheating perhaps. But the important thing is that this stuff happened to be some the best wine I drank all year, no question. This says more about my burgeoning interest in port than it might about the quality of this Croft bottle versus others -- I would have a hard time ranking this as today's best port since my background is so limited. But if I'm honest, the best vintage port I drank in 2007 was the only vintage port I tasted, and it was definitely amazing stuff. I would recommend this bottle to any wino.

MY TASTING NOTES ON PORT WINE

This port is from a vintage ten years ago at Quinta da Roêda, a vineyard that has long been recognized as one of the great port vineyards of the Douro Valley. Of Roêda, nineteenth century poet Vega Cabral is to have said: "If the wine district were a golden ring, Roêda would be the diamond." Croft's Quinta da Roêda is not produced every year -- vintage port never is. It comes out only after exceptional years. But unlike other ports Croft's Quinta da Roêda is made from grapes of a single vineyard, rather than mixed with grapes from several vineyards. (The best port, quite opposite to the best wine, is drawn from grapes of multiple vineyards -- so as to gather the very best grapes of the vintage... hmmm! Terroir is not port wine idea.)

Croft's Quinta da Roêda tastes like the finest wine I can imagine, concentrated into something stronger while still retaining the balance of the wine it was made from. It's as savoury as it is sweet. You taste it for hours after you've swallowed it. It's out of this world.

That's the best tasting note I can give on it at this stage of my wino life. Perhaps I'll develop a tasting note template for port that alters the existing one I use for regular table wine. I think I would at the very least need to eliminate the food pairings from the note since port, while nice with chocolate or rich cheeses, generally is not something around which you'd base your food, no less your meals. It's a few sips to be relished, and the astounding length of it helps prolong your (single) glass of it anyway.

I got a great deal on this bottle and gave it as a birthday gift to a friend who was celebrating a birthday early in the year. Soon after that, I was treated to a taste, which meant it was opened only as it was starting to peak (vintage ports need a minimum of ten to 15 years before consuming. That generalization surprised me slightly when I took a sip. I can't fathom that it would possibly get any better than what I had tasted, but then I'm newbie (for now) when it comes to port wine.

Vins Doux Naturels: Expanding the possibilities of Languedoc-Roussillon value wines

The sweet wines of the Midi, known as Vins Doux Naturels, face a dwindling demand these days. Though there is a rich heritage behind them, these unique wines are losing out to the vast production of red, white and rosé wine from Languedoc-Roussillon. So it's a bit of a paradox that these specialized wines, which expand the possibilities for the adventurous wino, eventually limit options. That's because of their obscurity. "Why not just have a Port or a Madeira?" is what you might often end up hearing.

This is a classic catch-22. Port wine -- which was invented using the same technique that was innovated for Vin Doux Naturel -- steals away many potential drinkers of Maury or Banyuls, for instance.

Just last night, I had some Port after dinner rather than a Midi Muscat. While I got to taste some Muscat de Rivesaltes on the weekend, it can be hard to find friends interested in sharing a bottle of Vin Doux Naturel. As is the wont these days, one turns to the Internet when such is the case...

My virtual drinking buddy in Brooklyn who runs Brooklynguy's Wine and Food Blog can share his experience tracking down some Banyuls in the greater metropolitan area of New York. He'll tell you it's all about location, location, location, but more importantly, he also reviews the Domaine du Mas Blanc Banyuls that he eventually finds. B'guy also talks about Maury's sweet wines and garners a lot of interesting feedback in the comments. All in all, another fine post from Brooklynguy and some really helpful reading material for WBW 33. Thanks B'guy! Your hard work and fine effort are always rewarding.

So Vins Doux Naturels are obscure wine products because they typically do not get exported and distributed widely like the more popular styles of wine do. Since we're on the topic of economics, I'll admit that these sweet wines are not likely the Langudoc-Roussillon wines most associated with the best values for your everyday, typical wine drinker.

Though these are interesting and historic wines of the Midi, they were not what I originally had in mind for the theme of WBW 33. Nevertheless, you should feel free to check them out. And if you haven't tried any Vins Doux Naturels before, why not open a bottle instead of Port next time you get the chance?

UNVEILING THE MASTER LIST FOR WBW 33

With all this talk of new, off-the-beaten-path wines and obscure appellations, the time has come to update my original listing of official wine designations of Languedoc-Roussillon -- the only designations that are allowed for the WBW theme of Mid-priced wines from the Midi. (After all, I did promise I would add the missing appellations to my "top ten" ones.)

This means that all the sweet wine called vin doux naturel, all the country wine of the vin de pays ilk, and all the officially recognized appellations of the Languedoc-Roussillon region are now committed to a single nicely alphabetized list of eligibility for WBW 33. I call it the Master List...

... see if your potential WBW 33 bottle makes the cut!

On the sweet side of Languedoc-Roussillon value wines: Vin Doux Naturel and Domaine Cazes

Here's an interesting idea for WBW 33 -- a nectar-like wine that you can serve as an aperatif or as dessert! I'm talking about Vin Doux Naturel such as Banyuls or Rivesaltes, but if you've never heard of them, allow me to explain.

Vin doux naturel means "naturally sweet wine". That's in part becuase the grapes used to make it typically are high in natural sugar and therefore capable of reaching 15 percent alcohol during the vinification. To that, distilled spirits are added and essentially stop fermentation while further elevating the alcohol content. The resulting wines are usually 15 to 18 percent alcohol but can range as high as 21.5 percent. Generally white grape Vin Doux Naturel are sweeter and less alcoholic than reds.

I framed last week's posts on Vin de Pays as the legacy of Languedoc-Roussillon, but you could certainly revise that to say that Vin de Pays is the legacy of Languedoc while Vin Doux Naturel is the legacy of Roussillon. The larger western Languedoc does produce a little Vin Doux Naturel, but the smaller eastern Roussillon is the heavyweight producer, having nurtured, developed and actually invented this unique style of wine. (Other than a couple types of Vin Doux Naturel coming out of the Rhône Valley, this concoction is strictly a Languedoc-Roussillon regional wine.)

For the historical signifcance of vin doux naturel -- of which Port wine is sometimes considered part of its legacy -- I turned to The Oxford Companion to Wine. Its entry includes the following:

The Catalan alchemist Arnaldus de Villanova (Arnaud de Villeneuve) of Montpellier University's then-flourishing medical school perfected the [vin doux naturel vinification] process and in 1299 was granted a patent from the king of Majorca, then ruler of Roussillon, which was to become the world's centre of vin doux naturel production ...
This is essentially how port as we know it, created nearly 400 years later, is made strong and sweet, and the technique is also used in the production of madeira and málaga.

But for a more practical lesson, nothing beats a tasting of the stuff to understand what it is. Click on the thumbnails below to take a closer look at what my friends and I drank over the weekend.


I chose to open a well-reviewed Muscat de Rivesaltes, which is just one official Vin Doux Naturel designation of many. As the name often implies with these sweet wines, the grape involved is obvious (sometimes tawnier versions of Vin Doux Naturel are made with Grenache grapes though that may not be apparent on the label).

Domaine Cazes Muscat de Rivesaltes 2003 reminded me a lot of my favourite Muscat treat called Passito-di-Pantelleria. Though I might still prefer the Sicilian in an after dinner situation for its intense fruit, slight hint of orange bitters and overall honeyed attack, this Riversaltes could slip in easily as an aperatif alongside nuts or rich terrines and pâtés.

It features something more like a dry Fino Sherry finish, less sweet than it could be. The consistency of this wine is still very viscous. Not too heady and with tremendous balance. Quite a versatile entry, and at about $25 a perfect candidate for a review in WBW 33.

With drops of vin doux naturel sliding down the side of the bottle, this one became quite sticky to handle. I tried to render this in my photography of the empty bottle but the stunning label still stands out more than my fingerprint traces left on the gummy surface of the glass. Nice design!

This wine producer, Domaine de Cazes is buzzing with interest, and for more than just its logo. They are doing great things in Roussillon, especially in fortified wines but also in the full gamut of red and white wine. Muscat de Rivesaltes is the final destination of 70 percent of France's total Muscat production, and if you feel like picking some up, the Domaine de Cazes name is a good place to start.

André et Bernard Cazes, Rivesaltes, France. 15%. Certified organic and biodynamic wine.

Next: Vin Doux Naturel, part two. And assembling the master list.

WBW #27 Icewine: Graf Hardegg Steinbugel Seefeld Weinviertel 2002

It was a pleasure to be able to have my first encounter with an Austrian wine for WBW #27 Icewine, hosted by the The Kitchen Chick. And, being the Niagara boy that I am, I've had plenty of icewines, but never an eiswein. (Rarely does the New World obscure the Old World in my wine repertoire -- I think this must've been the only exception to that.) It's great to have finally tasted the European stuff with this bottle of Graf Hardegg Riesling Eiswein Steinbugel Seefeld Weinviertel 2002, which is quite a mouthful -- both saying it and drinking it. But before I get to the tasting notes...

Ahead of uncorking this eiswein, I found myself taken in by some interesting cultural-political markings on the bottle label. The crest was beautiful and the label it was on was even more striking. A minimal design on lovely parchment. To top it all off, the capsule was one of the most miraculous I've seen. It was copper-swathed along the shaft and at the cap a round version of the Austrian red-white-red triband proudly displayed a clever dot-matrix black eagle surrounded by more dot matrix printing, somehow done in a circle. A little background on Austrian symbology and legend is here, if you're interested. Personally I just liked admiring these decorations, making sure I got my money's worth.

Yes, all icewine is expensive, and this eiswein is no different, though I did get a good deal on Graf Hardegg Riesling Eiswein. So finally I went in to taste it.

A golden hue and an immediate aroma of petrol poured out, reminding me of the best Rieslings I have tried. This was a good sign. On the palate, the first sensation was of buttery viscosity. There was honey, agrume flavours, great depth. A nice prickly feeling around the edges of my tongue confirmed that this Riesling expressed its acidity and forged great structure and length. I found this assessment of the wine online:

Schlossweingut Graf Hardegg, in the Weinviertel, "produces brilliant eisweins from riesling with a very fresh, clean bouquet that brings to mind extremely cold but clear winter days in northern Austria." These eisweins, he believes, "are not sticky but quite lean, elegantly structured and very, very impressive.

I would agree. (Jamie Goode has a page on the wines of Graf Hardegg.)

As this was an occasion to taste such luxurious stuff, I had planned ahead for a suitable dessert pairing. A tart of apricots and pistachios echoed the sharpened and sweet fruit flavours. And it was while having dessert that my fellow diner Eric pondered over the Graf Hardegg back label, written in German -- a language he knows well. We could tell that the information was describing the harvest of the frozen grapes, supplying the exact location, date, and time of day, but most was not a term he made sense of, as in Most 31° KMW. I blurted out something about wind direction and then we proceeded to go through about four translation dictionaries before we finally figured it out by simply pulling out the Oxford Companion I bought last month. It ain't wind.

THE DEVIL IN THE DETAILS

The entry for the initialism KMW was the easiest to locate immediately. I found that it stands for Klosterneuburger Mostwage, which is Austria's standard measure for grape ripeness or "must" weight. And must weight is important because it indicates the concentration of dissolved compounds -- about 90% of which are sugars. This of course determines fermentation and what the final alcohol content of the wine will be.

In this case, 31° KMW came out to 11% alcohol for this eiswein. But I what I still need to examine is why -- after drinking no more than 150 millilitres of this, and after having had only a couple of glasses of red wine, all of which taken with plenty of food -- why did I wake up the next morning with a cloudy head that shaped up to be one of the nastiest headaches I have had in a long while?

Eiswein virgin perhaps?

Schlossweingut Graf Hardegg, Steinbugel Seefeld Weinviertel, Österreich. 11%.

Make sure you deserve this dessert wine: Carlo Pellegrino Moscato

Well worth noting is how uniquely made this dessert wine is. You're sure to be roused after the very first sip of the stuff, which is called Carlo Pellegrino Passito di Pantelleria, so take a moment and consider this. It's produced by drying out and then vinifying Sicily's Zibibbo brand of Muscat grape (it turns out that there are many, many different varieties of Muscats, which surprised me).

The Oxford Companion to Wine describes Moscato Passito-di-Pantelleria, a DOC appellation, as Italy's finest dessert wine -- lush, rich and more in the true dessert style than the less reputable, generic label simply called Moscato di Pantelleria ("passito" is the Italian term for dried grape wines).

The book goes on: "...Passito di Pantelleria must have at least 14 per cent alcohol and 110 g/l residual sugar, although a current trend is to seek a more decadently sweet style, raisining the grapes for up to 30 days and arriving at close to 140 g/l of residual sugar."

Aside from the special care, this Moscato also has behind it a fanciful legend from antiquity. This Italian wine file talks about Passito di Pantelleria's divinity and its relationship to ambrosia.

I drank my Moscato with friends, which is a good idea since it is both too decadent and too deceptively alcoholic for the solo drinker. The dining room attached to my kitchen seemed to render itself a swanky drawing room in the presence of this wine's golden hues and storied history. The transformation commanded the attention of my camera lens.

TASTING NOTES FROM THE PANTELLERIA CHAIR

This wine has the delicious scent of orange blossoms. It is viscous and full on the palate with strong notes of apricot and tangerine and hints of cardamom. Drinking this moscato offers neat mouth-coating feeling, which is quite pleasurable. But it's not too syrupy either: a lightly bracing acidity makes the wine a refreshing expression.

And when served with anything as simple as a bit of chocolate, this wine makes for an exotic and fruity complement to the end of your meal.

Pantelleria, Sicilia, Italia. 15.5%

A vintage of a different kind

Wine blogs, even beer blogs, have found their place on the Internet. Where, I ask, are the port posts and sherry sites?

As a real wine fanatic, it can be hard to devote some attention to the grapes that are vinified into a higher alcoholic concoction. The grapes used to make fortified wine are usually riper and make the resulting cuvée sweeter and headier, often due to the addition of brandy or some other spirit. It's not an everyday uncorking, at least not for me.

The two fortified wines pictured above have routinely found a way into my glass over the course of the last year. They are Taylor Fladgate 2000 Late Bottled Vintage and the non-vintage Solera Cream Montilla Moriles, a sherry, respectively. The port is, of course, Portuguese, while the sherry, also known as Montilla Moriles, is from Spain.

I find it amusing that the reason I embrace the Fladgate port so much is because it reminds me of my favourite red wines -- rich and velvety with a palpable tannic astringency. At dessert, this is not a cloying overly sweet drink. I think of it more as a touchy-feely espresso to cap off a meal. A hint of bitterness nestled in a smooth and luxuriant package. 20%.

If the Fladgate appeals to me because of its kinship with wine, the Alvear turns me on for exactly the opposite reason. This stuff is like liquified dessert. Crème brulée in a bottle. If you've ever had Canasta, it is a bit like that but more refined. It's got eau-de-vie in it! Ultimately the cream is superbly balanced making this a real treat to savour. 18%.

Backwash
Tomorrow's news today! French tennis stylist Amélie Mauresmo reduces Belgian mighty mouse to a FORTIFIED WHINE...

In Saturday's women's final at the Australian Open, Mauresmo outclassed and outpaced the talented but ultimately feeble Justine Henin-Hardenne, giving up only 1 game in 52 minutes. Pummelled by fantastic shotmaking and a wicked and unyeilding top spin, Henin-Hardenne redefined the Belgian waffle by retiring -- an unprecendented move during a Grand Slam final in the modern era -- for apparently unknown reasons. It seems she was a tad out of breath. Or perhaps knowing that she could not win the title was enough to make her sufficiently sick and throw in the towel only four games shy of match completion. At least when Belgian countrywoman Kim Clijsters faced Mauresmo in the semis, she had the decency to roll an ankle for the crowd.

So concludes this wineblog's coverage of the start of the 2006 tennis season. Since Nicolas Kiefer lost his semifinal match, I join the rest of the free world and move to football this weekend. Amélie, you deserved to win this title and your first Grand Slam trophy. Congrats, and enjoy that 1937 Château d'Yquem!

Vineland Estates' Vidal icewine and select late harvest

Vineland Estates Winery is nestled along one of the most gently rolling slopes of the Niagara Escarpment. With a view of Lake Ontario below its low hills to the north and rich undulating vineyards sprawling around in every direction, it's not surprising how much tourist business it attracts. During my first visit, the 2000 Red Meritage -- a benchmarked Bordeaux assemblage with a $125 price tag -- drew most of my attention. Today I was able to concentrate on their icewines. Currently composed solely of Vidal grapes, Vineland Estates' speciality wines include a new Late Harvest as well as two icewines, one from 2002 and another one recently released as their 2004 vintage.

I started with the 2004 Vidal Select Late Harvest (just released and not pictured above). It's a bracing concoction with notable acid and strong citrus flavours. Its silky texture reminded me of the lemon-lime syrup at the soda fountain: crimp the hose that dispenses the carbonated soda and you double up on the concentrated sweet stuff. But that's not to say that the 2004 is too sweet. It's grounded by that palpable acid and real nice note of butter. Great.

For the 2002 Vidal Icewine (pictured third from left), hints of syrup flow like divine nectar. It has more honey than the Late Harvest -- a delicious sweetness that suggests pear or that juice you get in fruit salad. It has great balance in its rounded attack. I was able to linger over a few small portions of this wonderful treat since I had just finished a full plate of lunch. A full stomach is not factor because of the alcohol content, which is low (around 9% for each of these three bottles), but rather for the richness and intensity of this golden exilir.

On to the 2004 Vidal Icewine (pictured first): I immediately sensed a bigger "throat feel". It's what I would describe as a puckering tannin effect that you get as the icewine goes down. For me, the 2004 icewine offers more than I am apt to take. It was at this point that I wished I had some of Riesling icewine that had kicked off my 2005 almost a year ago now.

It would be remiss of me not to mention that the Vidal has been good to Vineland Estates, garnering many accolades including the Grand Vinitaly Award. Aside from that, Vidal icewine is more commonly produced by Ontario vintners than Riesling icewine and is generally more affordable too. And for that reason I would heartily recommend any of these wines. I think that in particular the 2004 Select Late Harvest and the 2002 Vidal Icewine, which is priced in Quebec a few dollars cheaper than it is in Ontario (yes, it does happen!) are both wise selections.

Finally, John arranged these wines for me. Thanks to him for the suggestion. This flight is the first one that Doktor Weingolb has taken, so it only seems perfectly suitable that eiswein be the feature.

The best things in life are free, i.e., The art of living

Tomorrow, Tuesday December 6, the downtown Art de Vivre succursale of the SAQ presents a Midi conseil on the subject of dessert wines. This "Art of Living" outlet has been offering these free lunchtime sessions on different themes (the wines of Venice, mentioned in this space yesterday, was another one of them).

Beginning at noon, SAQ wine counsellors will shed some light on the head-scratcher that is the dessert/wine pairing. The SAQ calendar notes that some of the suggested combinations will be audacious. I don't know about that, but what you can rely on during these informative half-hour talks is an educational tasting of each of the 4 products opened. A moderator engages with the wine and the crowd while a sommelier provides the authentic tasting glass, a generous sample and ample background on each of the bottles he uncorks. Since at that time of day you've likely only put breakfast in your stomach, a spittoon will be passed around in case you need it. The presentation is in French but, as they say, wine appreciation is universal, or something like that. The crowd bears this out. At any given session, you are likely to see college students with backpacks in tow, business people flying the coop from nearby offices, and my boss, trying to find out when I might be coaxed back to my cubicle. The answer to this last one is certainly no head-scratcher: as fast as Management can whip out the Sauternes.