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2009: Wine in Context

As I write this we are rushing headlong towards 2010, a year that promises to be very special. I am not referring to the association with Arthur C. Clarke's 2010: Odyssey Two, a rather lacklustre sequel which is under the radar of many I imagine, certainly more so than Clarke's original 2001: A Space Odyssey. No, 2010 is a year special for other reasons; the passing of May (you might be surprised to learn that I am uncertain of the exact date) marks Winedoctor's 10th birthday. In truth I am unsure how to celebrate a website's 10th anniversary, nevertheless I think such a grand achievement needs to be commemorated in some fashion. I am sure I will think of something.

Before we look forward to next year though, it is customary and sometimes cathartic to look back at the past twelve months, and in particular to examine the vinous delights that have passed our lips. I have certainly done so in previous years, but at this moment I have decided it is time to ring the changes. Perhaps this change reflects a confidence brought on by the thought of having nearly ten years of Winedoctor under my belt, but I prefer to think it reflects a growing realisation that a full understanding and appreciation of wine is about more than just, well, wine.

Many critics will tell you that they rate a wine only on the basis of the contents of the glass in front of them. I have respect for that belief, I agree with the practise, and when rating wine I try to emulate it. Such objective assessment is necessary; after all, the only transferable element of a reviewed wine is the wine itself (and some might argue not even that, because what we actually experience is a perception of the wine via our very individual palates), so it is vital that a critic not let concurrent emotions, circumstances or experiences affect his or her rating of the wine.

In truth though it is no way to enjoy (and perhaps even judge) wine, as to really do so requires an appreciation of what lies outside the little universe being swirled around within the glass. Remarkably, there are critics out there who seem to deny there is anything at all beyond the glass. They therefore struggle to put wine into the appropriate context, disengaging from the people, regions and countries that produce these beautiful libations. Incredibly, there even are critics who profess "I don't do vineyards". Do these characters actually enjoy wine? Or do they enjoy points more, wine merely being a route to the ultimate aim, the semi-autistic desire to rank and rate something? Possibly. I have to confess my previous annual reviews have seen me sliding into this trap.

So, no more lists of my favourite wines, bargains, duds and more, although significant bottles will certainly crop up among my notes below. It's time to take a look at the really important events of the last twelve months, with 2009: Wine in Context. (15/12/09)

Obsession and Compassion in the Loire

The year kicked off with some dull and dreary weather, where strong and fortified wines are just the ticket for warding off winter chills, and January saw me supping the impressive 2001 Cuvée Leon Parcé from Domaine de la Rectorie. It was February before things started to warm up, although I should make clear I am talking about wine, not the weather. I boarded an aeroplane one Saturday morning, and less than two hours later I alighted at Paris Charles de Gaulle airport. The next few hours were spent on board a train looking at scenes of rural devastation as we sped through the half-frozen, half-flooded countryside of northern France, the region having recently experienced some of the worst storms in years.

You often hear it said of life that it is not the destination that matters, but the journey. It is perhaps a little trite to apply that maxim to a few hours spent on a Train à Grande Vitesse, but on board I witnessed compassion that warmed my soul and which perhaps gives my opening statement some validity. A fellow passenger, one hand badly swollen, the skin cracked and red raw in places, the limb obviously recently burned, was clearly in pain. He was thus unable to extract his tickets from his bag, one limb close to useless, but they were soon located by the helpful conductor. A conductor who then went beyond the call of duty by also extracting some long-overdue analgesics from the same bag and, dutifully following the instructions, dishing out said medication to the passenger. Sadly, he had no water with which to take them, but his saviour soon sourced a bottle - no charge - and the medicines were administered. This little scenario played out in just a few minutes, with no fuss, but I was touched by it. On which of Britain's intercity trains would this happen? How many would thrust their hand into the bag of another, for fear of pulling out some imagined threat - or more likely being branded a thief? How many obstacles, concerns about duty and accountability, could have been thrown in the way of this simple act? Thankfully in this vignette common sense prevailed, and in my mind I drank an imaginary toast to that most admirable of conductors.

Of course, my destination was in fact very important; I arrived later that day in Angers (its impressive chateau, complete with recent fire damage, is shown here on the left), ready for the annual Salon des Vins de Loire, a huge wine fair which sees many of the Loire's leading domaines gathered together in one place for just three days. For me, this signified a new level of obsession, in fact a confirmation that Winedoctor is a professional publication which embodies a second career for me. It is easy to throw together a website, even more so a blog (less easy to keep it running for ten years), and it is easy to travel to UK tastings, just an early alarm and a quick dash down to London (if you can call four hours on a train 'quick') is all that is required. It is also easy to accept press trips to foreign climes, where all the contacts, tastings, travel, meals and hotel rooms are arranged for you. But this trip was different, perhaps something more of an undertaking, one that required more effort and certainly more expenditure on my part, especially as the organising body do little to help the attendance of overseas journalists. Is that why so few of the UK press attend?

The fair, together with the Renaissance des Appellations tasting that preceded it, was not only a fascinating and intense four-day immersion into everything the Loire can offer, it also threw up some fine individual cuvées and also one of the best (and best-value) meals I have experienced all year at Le Petit Comptoir. I have already written of my 2009 Salon Top Ten, but nine months later those that really stick in my mind include the Chinon Coteau de Noiré 2006 from Philippe Alliet, alongside a stunning array of red Sancerres from Alphonse Mellot which transcended anything I have ever before tasted from this appellation. A casual comment made to fellow Loire-o-phile Jim Budd later that day, along the lines of "How can red Sancerre be that good?", perhaps became quote of the fair. For white wines, sampling the 1982 vintage of the Cuvée L d'Or from Luneau-Papin was a remarkable event, even when tasting alongside a bunch of cocky French sommeliers who persuaded Pierre-Marie Luneau (or perhaps he merely appeased them with agreement) that the wine was corked, when plainly it wasn't. Few wines tasted that week though will last in my memory as long as the Taille aux Loups 2002 Montlouis Rémus from Jacky Blot, a stunning and sublime effort which just oozed elegance and substance combined. Tasting all these wines, with the winemakers themselves in the region where they originated was a very special event, and I am looking forward to returning in 2010.

Bichot in Burgundy

Sadly all Loire trips must come to an end, but fortunately for us all we can keep the memories alive with wines such as the 2005 Savennières L'Enclos from Eric Morgat, one of my favourites from March. And, even more fortunately, it was not long before I was able to feed my vinous addiction once more; later that same month, the day after the annual Champagne tasting in London, I travelled down to Burgundy via St Pancras Station and Eurostar. This was a first for me, as I have always previously favoured travelling over La Manche, not under it, so I was fairly excited about the prospect. It is very strange hopping onto a train in London and alighting in Paris just two hours later, two nations and cultures now separate by nothing more than a very brief period of sitting down. Thereafter we travelled onto Burgundy.

Have no doubt, I love Burgundy. I do not write about it much on Winedoctor (although that statement belies the recent very significant update and expansion of my Burgundy wine guide) and I do not attend the major UK tastings in January in the same way that I do for Bordeaux. I wish I could, but the simple truth is that I simply don't have time to cover every region in the same detail that I strive to achieve with Bordeaux and the Loire. I love the region itself, although I must confess this trip was my first chance to return there after the passing of many intervening years. It is one of the few places where I feel real romance in the soil, the vines themselves seemingly imbued with history. If there is any region where you really must look beyond the glass, it is here in Burgundy, on the slopes of the Côte d'Or (right, the vineyards of Vosne-Romanée).

In these days of questionable wine writer ethics it is only proper that I should make clear that this was a single-producer trip, and so it is hardly surprising that at the end of it all I find myself writing about the wines of Albert Bichot. I know many more commanding writers shy away from such trips, and they are perhaps right to do so, but I favour the route of full disclosure and then allowing the reader to judge for themselves, knowing in what context the wines were tasted. My only other option is simply not to go as the time and expense involved would be prohibitive, leaving me with my Loire trip and little else. That might please the true Loire addicts, but we must feature some other wines on Winedoctor, if only to put those of the Loire in their own context!

The gustatory highlight of the trip was without doubt the fabulous oysters served by Philippe de Marcilly, Bichot's managing director, but naturally the wines were of fine quality too. At one end of the vintage spectrum the Bichot Bâtard-Montrachet 2007 showed great potential, whereas at the other the trio of Bichot Chambertins from 1969, 1959 (these two served blind as a pair, and identified without hesitation by Richard Bampfield MW - how does he do that?!) and 1947 were also very memorable, as was the 1989 Vosne-Romanée Malconsorts, all for the right reasons. Tasting and drinking these wines, which had rested for so many years in cellars so close to the vines from which they originated, was a delight. Wine in context indeed. I was also fascinated to learn that Albéric Bichot, current head of this négociant firm, spent one of his childhood holidays on the Isle of Man (where I grew up). My parents took in many French exchange students during my youth; I wonder if any of them now run other Burgundy négociant firms, or perhaps even a cru classé chateau in Bordeaux? If so I look forward to you getting in touch; it is time for you to make good on your offer of a reciprocal visit!

Charles Metcalfe Sings 'Le Pin'

If this is April, then this must be Merignac. Yes, April is Bordeaux season, and for the second year running I descended on the region to slurp my way through the latest vintage, in this case 2008, in a three-and-a-half-day orgy of tasting. I had good company, including more MWs than you can shake a stick at (as shown further down the page). It was a curious campaign, one in which the usually ubiquitously present Farr Vintners boycotted the primeurs and many consumers seemed to have made their mind up on the wines before the tastings had even begun. Tasting the wines in Bordeaux before they were released I was quick to conclude that such pre-judgements were ill-informed and erroneous; these were not rich, warm-vintage wines, but they were fresh, vibrant, pure and in some cases delicious. Having visited the region and tasted for myself of course gave me a huge advantage in knowing the wines, but it also opened my eyes to how much nonsense is spouted in online fora and chat-rooms by distant would-be pundits who haven't even tasted them.

Sensing disinterest in the face of economic gloom many chateaux released at prices that were reduced compared to 2007, despite 2008 being a better vintage to my palate. Misinterpreted by some punters as a sign of a weak vintage rather than a weak global economy, and expecting the wines to receive a drubbing from Parker, they sat back and allowed well-priced cases of first growth clarets and similar gems to slip through their fingertips. How wrong they were! Not only are these delicious wines, a handful climbed in value once Baltimore's most famous critic waded in with some very fat scores, and I think the perceived quality of the wines and also the "fiscal value" of the vintage will continue to move gently upwards. But the brave and the well-informed took advantage of a rare event these days, the release of new wine by Bordeaux chateaux before the release of Parker's scores. Will we ever see such an event again? I obviously can not answer that. What I do know though is that armed with my own tasting notes I was happy to join in the fray; 2008 was the first vintage where I purchased en primeur since 2005, having skipped both 2006 and 2007, both having been hugely over-priced, especially the latter. I hope to return to Bordeaux for the tastings of the 2009 primeurs, and will publish my notes online once again, my own independent, alternative, freely provided point of view. Feel free to read them! Sadly, though, I suspect we will see a return to the waiting game with this vintage, as the chateaux wait upon Parker and his numbers before they release, with price rises - possibly huge rises compared to 2008 - absolutely inevitable I think.

My top wines of the tasting I described in my Bordeaux 2008 Top Ten, but those that now stick in my mind include Latour, Lafite, Léoville-Las-Cases, Pontet-Canet and Vieux Chateau Certan. The real highlight of the trip was not wine, however, but the melodious tones of Charles Metcalfe, seen in the image above showing my Bordeaux 2008 primeurs tasting group (l to r: Jean-Christophe Mau, Richard Bampfield MW, David Gordon, Jane Masters MW, Derek Smedley MW, Charles Metcalfe, me, Andrew Thomas and Margaret Rand). Our dusty shoes reflect a walk through the vineyards of Pomerol, from one tasting to the next, on the preceding day. Sadly, cut-backs meant the customary shoe-polishing service provided at our residence had been withdrawn. This is how to understand wine though - visiting the region, walking amongst the vines, tasting in situ. "I don't do vineyards" is not an maxim I wish to follow.

Anyway, I digress; back to those melodious tones. Guru of all things vinous, publisher and commentator on Portuguese (and many other) wines, and chairman of the International Wine Challenge, Charles has yet another string to his bow, that being his singing voice. He isn't afraid to let rip at any moment, and the dimly-lit cellars at Le Pin, as Jacques Thienpont carefully lifted a representative blend of the 2008 vintage from the barrels using a pipette, was one of the most appropriate moments. His choice was Pie Jesu from Lloyd Webber's Requiem (if memory serves me correctly), a fine, melodic piece. I thought it quite haunting, although Hugo Rose MW (our photographer for the above picture) was more circumspect. He recalled the coach trip to a wine region he once compered, filling in after Charles; expecting questions of a vinous nature, he was instead badgered with repeated demands of a different nature. "Sing for us!" came the calls, "Sing! Sing! Sing! Sing!" they chanted, with no let up for three days; I think that was Hugo's last ever coach trip. Charles is a great character, perhaps not as beautiful as Sarah Brightman was when she regularly undertook Lloyd-Webber's work, but he is certainly a talented and knowledgeable writer, a fine singer, and a great companion on any press trip.

Fame in Decanter

April saw me polish off the second of three bottles I bought in Barcelona airport of all places, the 1976 Rioja Gran Reserva Imperial from CVNE, a brilliant wine, but it also saw the arrival of judging week at the Decanter World Wine Awards, during which I spent two days sipping and spitting my way through dozens of Loire wines alongside Jim Budd, Sarah Ahmed and Nigel Wilkinson of the RSJ restaurant. And in the weeks that followed, summer arrived, a moment I marked with the consumption of a fabulously delicious rosé, the 2008 Rosé d'Un Jour from Marc Angeli, made perfect by its Saturday afternoon setting, the gently warm weather and the crackle and sizzle of a nearby barbecue (see, its easy, this wine in context stuff). I also had the joy of experiencing the otherworldly 1996 from Krug in June, in the company of winemaker Julie Cavil and the excellent Woodwinters Wines; I have already recounted in detail my efforts, very nearly unsuccessful, to locate my guest house for the night in my Krug profile. And then it was July, and I was off to the Languedoc for a sunny sojourn, a break from Winedoctor (although certainly not from tasting, note-taking and drinking, and I certainly made a few updates on my then newly created Winedr blog). I enjoyed my visits to visit the Kinglakes of Begude, and the Panmans of Rives-Blanques, but perhaps the greatest revelation was the sparkling wines of Antech. I have tasted a number of Antech cuvées before, but only a limited selection from their broad portfolio, so this was my first experience of both the Cuvée Eugénie (a Crémant de Limoux) and the Cuvée Exception (a Blanquette de Limoux), and both were absolutely delicious, so much better than the Cuvée Saint Laurent which has been the focus of my previous experiences. Why does nobody import these other wines into the UK?

Looking back to April though, being asked to judge in the Decanter tastings was an honour, and I worked hard for those two days to do my bit, hoping to match the skill of my fellow tasters, and to ensure that Loire medals were not easily or inappropriately awarded. And whilst relaxing poolside in Limoux a request came for a photograph, the deadline a mere three days away, for inclusion in the annual awards issue of Decanter. All my hard work was to be rewarded! Fame at last! But here I was on holiday, with only an ageing digital camera yielding images of inadequate quality for a print publication. I enquired whether such images would be sufficient, and was vaguely reassured, so we spent a morning trying to obtain a decent image that was not too bright, or too dull, too blurred or too grainy, and in the end we had two acceptably crisp and maybe even flattering options, one of which is shown here. Now I accept that this image could potentially lead to some confusion about my intentions to appear alongside some of other jungle-interred unknowns that grace our television screens in the annual torture known as I'm a Celebrity...Get Me Out of Here, but we concluded that you could at least make out my basic features, and that was what was most important. So this and the other half-decent image were duly attached to an email and sent. It had been an effort, taking up half a day of holiday, so half a day of swimming, or relaxing, or more importantly time with my children, but no doubt it would be worth it. Fame, fame, fame, here I come!

No, you're right, they didn't use the picture. Cheers, Decanter!

• 2009: Wine in Context (part 2)