WBW #43 Comfort Wines: Grenache blends like the Château de la Gardine 2004

My first post of March is March's Wine Blogging Wednesday event -- WBW comes early in March! This one clearly snuck up on me, but I was not unprepared.

Thanks to Joel at Wine Life Today for getting me motivated to finally get some of my wine tasting notes up.

Joel's timing for March's event -- called "comfort wines" -- seems perfect. This week I've been popping corks on some very soul-sustaining, get-me-through-the-winter wines. March is usually severe and wintry during this year of La Nina. Comfort wines are exactly what I've been calling for lately, and likely will until some signs of spring arrive.

The definition of a comfort wine may be highly personal. Joel offers guidance as host, but in the most general definition I have in my mind, I would expect that people thinking of their favourite comfort wines would think of red wines that are somewhat rich and substantive -- a bottle that puts meat on your bones so you can settle in for a long winter's nap. When your hibernation's over you'll awake with fond memories of that nourishing and generous wine!

So to recap, my idea of a comfort wine is one this a) red, b) ripe and c) with potentially high extraction. Above all, it is d) not a wine that you would serve with a green salad. It should feature a strong flavour profile and admirable texture, though not necessarily supplied by heavy tannin. It should be lusty, savoury and long in the mouth.

In other words, it should be a classy cuvée that involves some Grenache grapes.

GRENACHE/GRANACHA IS COZY/COSY

Grenache, or Granacha in Spanish, is the go-to grape for Spain's D.O. Montsant red wines and France's A.O.C. Faugères red blends. I mention them because I sampled one of each this week.

Both the Mas Collet Montsant 2004 and the Les Premières Faugères 2005 satisfy a definition of "comfort wine" I subscribe to.

The Mas Collet brings in an attractive level of oak and Cabernet Sauvignon to the comforting affect this wine has. Overall though this is an exemplary Grenache blend after so-so recent vintages: the 2004 is far from flabby and it possesses a nice, if light structure, for all of $15. See this recent review from a Quebec wine critic and blogger Rémy Charest and click its bottle image above for its descriptive file and local availability.

Jean-Michel Alquier's Faugères, out of the Languedoc region of the Midi, is so beautifully balanced and long in mouth, it's simply remarkable this is an under $25 wine (it's only a shade above $20 not including the tax). It has such a lengthy finish that this is a wine that fully does taste $10 more than the Spaniard. I enjoyed it immensely, to the detriment of my better note-taking. Here instead are notes from a glowing 1855.com review (written in French), complete with a top score from the 1855 people, so much so that I bet they are effectively forgetting the Bordeaux touchstone of their namesake. Click on its bottle image above for more details.

As my grandmother used to say, it's nice to be able to live life comfortably. After grandpa got that job as a foreman steelworker, her idea of comfort was all about being able to spend the extra dollars to occasionally pamper yourself. Like with a $30+ bottle of wine. That's living comfortably!

LUXURIOUS COMFORT

And for some this comfort wine. It's got that Grenache goodness too.

With that in mind my first and foremost comfort wine is the Château de la Gardine Châteauneuf-du-Pape 2001. This is the wine I celebrated my promotion with last year. We're talking crazy candied orange peels in a classically-styled and hearty wine that approaches the depth and savoriness of vintage port wine. Or at least that is what I recall. (When drinking the best comfort wines, it's best not to talk notes.)

So I only have notes on the current vintage, the Château de la Gardine Châteauneuf-du-Pape 2004, which is less exciting (less comforting too). Still nice though. The 2005 version is already replacing previous stock; it is getting more favourable reviews. (In any case, I tasted the 2004 recently after seeing it discounted to under $30 and I think it was worth it at that kind of price.)

Eyes: Light fuschia with dull red brick tone to it.

Nose: Alcohol aroma overlying meaty and juicy notes. The meat is more charred than fatty. Mineral component too -- could be ash -- but as a non-smoker this is all a strangely alluring bouquet for me.

Mouth: Bright and rasping with creamy notes. Sports a sunniness to it -- there's enough acid to make it a good Grenache in my books. Baked berries with pits. Typical Midi really with its developing fruit. But it's also zesty in both texture and flavour, kind of like a root beer with influences of star anise and sweet spice supported by the savoury edge on the acid and a medium body. Long finish and nice tannins.

Stomach: This style of wine seems to become even more luscious at the dinner table because it's otherwise a young and upfront wine that can use a little time mellowing. Right now, this wine can be great with couscous and garlicky merguez sausage. It's like the best cherry cola you've ever had with dinner.

...so then Pinot Noir goes to Grenache: You bring me downstream

Here we have a wine made from Pinot Noir and a Côte du Rhône wine. I'm putting them in the same review because, like a Sancerre to goat's cheese, there's an interesting relationship going on. The Sauvignon Blanc in a Sancerre is said to complement goat's cheese with its high acidity and contrast it too by adding something in the herbal department. It's a nice dynamic and my putting these two wines together attempts something along those lines. Like the shared acidity in the above equation, each wine possesses a common denominator in climate: They were both rendered out of the Midi in the late summer of 2003. And as for contrast, what could establish a greater gap than comparing the humble descriptive record of Grenache to the storied accomplishments of Pinot Noir. In my mind, placing these two bottles back-to-back would surely be enlightening. Where do varietal characteristics end and terroir influences begin? And though these were not cultivated from the same vineyard, they do share a certain regional profile. And I wanted to investigate that profile by tasting the wine grape I least respect right after the one I most revere.

The Cave de Rasteau, Côtes du Rhône-Villages 2003 is composed mostly of Grenache grapes. That's really my problem, not the wine's. Because Rhône appellations enforce vintners to include at least 40% Grenache in their reds, I end up a tough sell. On top of that, I tend to avoid shopping for Rhônes because it seems someone has always brought one out to dinner anyway. I guess when I get right down to it, Grenache, in general, is not a variety I harbour great affinity for. I sometimes detect a sweetness there that unfortunately reminds me of the sweetening agent in children's cherry medicine. But that is personal reaction and of course it doesn't apply in every case. I suspect I'm drawing my stereotype from low-end Rhônes. And I hate to say I dislike Grenache because it really is simply not true. Once in a while I'll be transported by a Grenache-led blend. This happens more often when I spend $20-plus, like in the wonderfully smooth case in point provided by the 2000 Antique Senimaros from Cave de Cairanne. For about $5 more than this Rasteau here, you will be invited to experience the difference that a higher-end Rhône can carry. And it's a difference that my money is on. Because it may be my palate is too temperamental -- a slight bit too much in the cherry department (something that so many of my friends encourage) just comes off as cloying to me. It sends my wine appreciation meter exponentially low. I hazard that's what you would call a classic case of dislike.

So needless to say this Rasteau had a lot to live down. But it manages quite well for itself. It enchants with its hearty balance and richness, neither characteristic overly fruity. Not fruit-bomb-y -- perhaps that's more to the point. Vaucluse, France. 14%.

Surprisingly, my tasting notes mark very similar reactions for the Pinot. The Laroche Pinot Noir Vin de Pays d'Oc 2003 is juicy, round and refreshing. It delivers bracing cherry notes in a way I would expect a Rhône to, but with much lighter body. An aroma of ripe blueberry tells you that you are not dealing with Grenache anymore. Its nose is good; its balance, not subtle, is punctuated by firm tannins. It's the depth that is most lacking, but quite fine as an everyday selection. Great with roast beef too. Béziers, France. 12.5%.

Conclusion: This potential odd couple share a ripened fruitiness that transcends the different grapes varieties of which they are made.

Backwash
It's seems like Montreal newspapers are covering their tracks. The leads they had with their liquor board price fixing story are quickly being replaced by newer articles clearly driven by SAQ press releases. So with that in mind, here is the original item that started it all (in French) and here is a comparable piece about the story written in English. In yesterday's space the CBC story did a fair job summarizing the whole conundrum. This one does okay too, but it really does feel shadier than a palm grove walking into an SAQ lately. I still want more brought to light regarding this one. A great -- if opinionated and French -- resource for a whole history of unyielding criticism towards the SAQ is found at this blogue. I'll be watching it and hoping for more in the meantime.