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Paywall News

It seems appropriate, as it is now nearly eight weeks since I first published details of my plans to convert Winedoctor to a pay-to-view site (in Important News for Winedoctor Readers), to update those readers who might be interested on how this plan is progressing. It seems only right to me that I make this change in an open and transparent manner, with plenty of warning, the real point of these posts. If you missed the first post, you might like to go back and read it; it explains my reasoning and the need to make this change to pay-to-view if Winedoctor is to survive.

The process of shifting an established free-to-access website to a pay-to-view model is not entirely straightforward. It reminds me of the tale of the holidaymakers who stop to ask for directions; the old yokel they have accosted fixes them with a beady-eye, his face expressing all that needs to be said on the folly of their quest, and replies “well, I wouldn’t start from here if I were you“. Like the hapless holidaymakers, I can’t choose where I start from, having uploaded my first Winedoctor pages to the internet more than twelve years ago now. This was an era when content management systems such as WordPress, which comes with dozens of easy plug-ins to manage subscriptions, paywalls, credit-card payments and so on, were nothing more than a twinkle in a programmer’s eye.

Nevertheless, somewhat to my surprise (I’m always surprised when things progress more easily than expected…..usually very surprised) the process of development and integration seems to have gone more smoothly than I had anticipated. The paywall software is in place, and I can see only one final glitch that needs ironing out. The credit card payment system is in place, and has been tested multiple times. I won’t bore you with any more gory details than that, but suffice to say that although I will continue to test the systems I have in place, the paywall is essentially ready to go. The time has come, therefore, to set a date.

I stated in my original post that I was aiming to institute the paywall in March. I am going to come good on that plan – just – as the paywall will go up over the weekend of March 30th and 31st. These things are always subject to change, but barring any personal catastrophe this is the plan. The timing really relates to when I can guarantee being available to sort out any teething problems that might occur, but setting myself this deadline also means I should have this done and dusted before I leave for the Bordeaux primeurs the following week. Preparations for this trip are almost complete (you can see some of my timetable below – I just wish I could raise a response from Ducru-Beaucaillou) and it is going to be the busiest yet, with seven solid days of tasting planned. I will thus have more writing-up to do on my return than ever, so really need to have the paywall integration done before I get bogged down with that. The 30th and 31st is also a good choice for me as website usage tends to be lighter than during the week. With typically 27,000 page views per day from Monday to Friday, that seems like a valid consideration!

Bordeaux Primeurs 2013 Timetable

And as for the price, as previously stated, the access fee will be a one-off payment of £45 per annum. This can be made using most Mastercard and Visa (debit and credit cards) through a reputable online payment gateway, Sagepay. Students and staff of the Wine and Spirit Education Trust, staff and students of The Institute of Masters of Wine and members of the Association of Wine Educators should ensure they contact their respective organisations in order to obtain relevant discount codes prior to payment. The first two should be set up and ready to go when the paywall goes up; I have certainly provided the WSET and IMW with all the information they need. As for the AWE, you may need to shake your committee along a bit, as I have certainly made the offer. Please note, all three organisations have the same offer, and only one code can be applied, so if you are eligible via the IMW or WSET code there is no need to look for an AWE offer to materialise.

Some people have asked for fuller details of what and will be behind the paywall. I’m not going to map out every page here, but in essence the wine guides, domaine profiles, domaine updates and detailed tasting reports including my Bordeaux primeur reports and mature Bordeaux and Loire vintage assessments will be pay-to-view. As for what remains free, this will include my basic wine education pages, wine book reviews, restaurant reviews as well as all my Monday ‘Weekend Wine’ reports and all my blog posts. This adds up to a serious chunk of the content on Winedoctor, and so there should still be plenty of content – old and new – for those who do not wish to subscribe.

As with my previous post, please feel free to post any questions below, and I will do my best to answer them as soon as possible.

Real Wine Fair 2013

I suspect I might be the only person in the UK to say this, but I was disappointed that this year the Real Wine Fair and RAW, the parallel/similar/rival (delete as appropriate) event arranged by Isabelle Legeron MW are being held months apart. Others might have rued the fact that the two events were held on almost exactly the same dates last year, but for me – travelling to London from afar for the tastings – this only made the trip even more useful, as I had two tastings for the price (or the train fare, at least) of one; day one at RAW, day two at Real.

Not so this year. And so yesterday I trekked down from Edinburgh for the Real Wine Fair. The venue was Tobacco Dock, on Wapping Lane, a rather foreboding venue, its high brick walls perhaps once de rigueur for keeping out the tobacco-interested thieves and vagabonds, but I soon found myself wandering down Wapping Lane wondering where the entrance might be. As it happened a friendly security guard clearly took pity on the country hillbilly sauntering towards him, and he waved to beckon me on with some eagerness – as if I were about to miss a just-departing ferry – while I was still several hundred metres distant. How remarkable; a friendly, mind-reading security guard! Either that, or I look like someone he was expecting; maybe his contact in a cigarette-smuggling gang?

Inside the venue was light and airy; the cellars at Victoria House, the location of last year’s tasting, seem to have come in for some criticism, although I (no doubt in the minority, as usual) thought they were fine. Jim Budd, meanwhile, continually refers to the venue as a ‘Hitlerian bunker’. The Tobacco Dock should come in for no such stick though. It is conveniently located five minutes walk from Shadwell Station on the Docklands Light Railway, which is itself about 20 minutes from King’s Cross Station which is where I arrived in London (only delayed 15 minutes – not bad considering there was some very difficult ‘light drizzle’ for the trains to deal with).

Olivier Cousin

Sadly, however, the turnout from Loire producers – my focus for the day, just for a change, I hear you say – felt much smaller than last year, and so within a couple of hours of arriving I had finished the wines I felt I ‘needed’ to taste. Where last year I met Lise Jousset, Frantz Saumon, Noëlla Morantin, Chahut et Prodiges, Thierry Germain and quite a few others, none of these names were present at this year’s fair. Still, I enjoyed getting to grips with some less familiar names, and the mature wines from Jérôme Lenoir and Domaine de la Chevalerie were attractive, even if they were more indicative of what I would regard as ‘old-school’ Loire Valley. I think they would appeal most to punters who think Loire Cabernet Franc is at its best when it shows that very cliched, herbaceous style, rather than the superbly focused red wines that really lead in the region these days, from the likes of Frédéric Mabileau and Matthieu Baudry. And of course it was a delight to chat (using my Franglais, naturally) with Olivier Cousin (pictured above).

The best wines there on the day, within the Loire at least, were clearly those of Domaine Mosse. Agnès Mosse brought along a selection from the 2011 vintage, including a lovely Savennières, and also the ever-fun Moussamoussettes. Having said that, I also enjoyed the two wines on show from Les Vignes Herbels more than I expected to. Having tasted some wines from Nadège and Laurent Herbel at last year’s event I found the style too marked by oxidation to appeal. Those wines that I tasted this year, however, seemed to strike a better balance between an oxidative character and attractive aromas and flavours directly related to the variety in question, Chenin Blanc, including notes of orange blossom and flowers. This was an impressive feat; I’m looking forward to writing this domaine up, and adding the profile to my ever-growing list of new and updated Loire reports.

Beyond the Loire, whereas there was a smattering from Bordeaux last year, including the excellent Clos Puy Arnaud, this year there were none. I spent the last few hours tasting some less familiar wines, everything from the biodynamic Champagnes of Francis Boulard to prolonged skin-contact and lees-aged Soave. I headed home refreshed, ready to do it all again in May for RAW.

Sauternes #5: Chateau Doisy-Daene 2001

It’s been a busy week, and I’ve not had the time to post as much on the blog side of Winedoctor as I would have liked. I had some fascinating replies from some questions I put to Philippe Bardet, of Château Val d’Or, but I haven’t had sufficient time to translate all of them and give his answers suitable thought. And there has been quite a lot happening in Bordeaux recently, with stakes in both Château d’Issan and Château Monbousquet sold off in the past week or so. I need to add these new pieces of data to the site. And of course I had to give suitable time to reading the comments on Jim Budd’s post on Baumard’s Frozen Miracle, including some really very specious arguments from anonymous posters. That’s not to mention all the real work I had to do, such as publishing this week’s Loire 2012 reports, my review of Au Bonheur du Palais, and my updated Carbonnieux profile.

And then suddenly it’s Friday afternoon. Thankfully, just time for a quick post on my most recent Sauternes, following on from the 1998 Coutet. This time, another wine from Barsac, but back once again to the 2001 vintage, with Château Doisy-Daëne. I will come back to Issan over the weekend. As for Monbousquet, well, it is time I added a profile to the site I guess.

Château Doisy-Daëne 2001

Château Doisy-Daëne (Barsac) 2001: This wine has a bright and golden hue in the glass. Aromatically, it is dominated by oranges and apricots, run through with hints of cream and caramel, scented and rich, but also lifted by notes of crunchy apple and freshening mint. It has a lovely expressive character, showing very dense and concentrated, but imbued with grip. A fabluously evocative style, with plenty of firm structure to it, but also fine textrue and substance. Impressive character, with a really long, grppy finish. The palate is defined, well framed despite the increasingly rich character presented on the nose as the wine sits in the glass. Certainly a success. 17.5/20 (March 2013)

St Emilion 2012 Classification Under Attack

In an article published online today in Sud Ouest (link at the bottom of this post), Franck Dubourdieu – the cousin of consultant and Bordeaux professor Denis Dubourdieu – has launched a stunning attack on the 2012 St Emilion classification.

Dubourdieu clearly isn’t averse to expressing his opinions, and doesn’t shy away from naming names when it comes to identifying what he sees as inconsistencies and potential conflicts of interest with the drawing up of the new classification, which he points out saw the area of classified land increase from 800 hectares to 1300 hectares, just short of one-quarter of the entire appellation.

St Emilion 2012 classification

The promotion of Angélus and Pavie (pictured above) to Premier Grand Cru Classé A is the first questionable decision according to Dubourdieu, which pushes him into a state of “stupefaction”. These châteaux do not, according to Dubourdieu, have the same level of terroir as Cheval Blanc or Ausone. He goes on to ask why weren’t estates with great terroirs, such as Figeac, Canon and Clos Fourtet elevated instead? There is no doubting Dubourdieu’s intended meaning – despite his stating that he does not doubt the transparency of the assessment – when he points out that Hubert de Boüard de Laforest, proprietor of Angélus, is also (a) regional INAO president, (b) a national committee member of the INAO, and that he was (c) responsible for endorsing the process and (d) responsible for the selection of the committee of impartial assessors. Dubourdieu also points out that the tasting for the premier category accounted for only 30% of the score, as requested by the châteaux, whereas it was 50% at lower levels, another inappropriate and curious decision.

Dubourdieu points the same finger at Yves Besnard, a former associate of Bernard Arnault at LVMH, who has also been involved in the process by virtue of his position with the INAO. It seems clear that Dubourdieu thinks this is important when it comes to the elevation of the LVMH properties Quinault L’Enclos and Tour du Pin, both managed alongside Cheval Blanc (and usually tasted at the estate during the primeurs). This elevation came, says Dubourdieu, despite the lesser sandy terroir of Quinault L’Enclos, a particular travesty in his view.

Finally, in a generic attack on taste and the importance of ‘made’ wines, Dubourdieu attacks the predominance of inky-black wines in the new classification. These are, he says (translated by me – hope I get this right!) “over-extracted, sweet, supple with low acidity, and obviously overoaked” before he goes on to attack these “blockbusters” as having “le goût américain” (I don’t think that bit needs any translation). I think Dubourdieu is making a good point here about the state of some wines in St Emilion today, so it’s a shame he has to finish it off with this jingo-istic anti-American (anti-Parker, maybe) swipe.

With three St Emilion estates already mounting a challenge to the classification as it stands, it seems as though the 2012 listing has the potential to be yet another long chapter in the St Emilion classification saga.

Full article (in French) here.

Troplong-Mondot 2010: An Opinion Linchpin

Despite the Bordeaux 2012 primeurs looming (you might think the primeurs circus a long way off, but I’ve already made all but two of my appointments for the week) most of the chat at the moment concerns Bordeaux 2010. Memories of the barrel samples may have long faded, but a fresh round of tastings and expressed opinions have brought the vintage to the fore once again. Last November the Bordelais descended upon London for a showing of the wines, during which I tasted about 120, recently written up here. Neal Martin has done the same, augmented with some reports from a trip to Bordeaux to taste those wines that refuse to travel, and he is currently publishing these day by day on Parker’s site (subscription only, $99 per annum). In addition, the Union des Grands Crus de Bordeaux (UGCB) has continued the tour, taking in the USA, giving American consumers a chance to taste and form their own opinions. James Suckling has also been busy reporting on his website (subscription only $143.90 per annum). And, perhaps most significantly, Parker is set to report in the next issue of The Wine Advocate (again, by subscription only, price as above).

Having completed my reports there is no doubt in my mind that Bordeaux 2010 is a great vintage, different in style to Bordeaux 2009, but equally worthy. But as my reports no doubt make clear, there is one notable fly in the ointment when it comes to this statement, and that is St Emilion. As always, the style of wine offered here is as diverse as ever, perhaps even more so than usual. And with such disparate styles, with varying degrees of ripeness, extraction and alcohol, the commune is bound to split opinion. Several wines are in position to be the poster child for this division; just half a length ahead of its peers, perhaps, is 2010 Château Troplong-Mondot.

Troplong-Mondot has in recent vintages, under the direction of Xavier Pariente and Christine Valette, and winemaker Jean-Pierre Taleyson, seen a marked shift in style. The wine was once elegant and pure; the 1994, for example, is drinking very well in this style, even though the vintage is, as Neal Martin put it a year or so ago, in general rather a dull one. But that all changed recently, and the style here is now one that favours dark colours, rich tannins, and high alcohol levels. The 2009 vintage was 15.5%, and although I liked it at the primeurs (I would never mark a wine down purely because of the alcohol) by the time it was in bottle it was showing this alcohol quite plainly. The 2010 also declared 15.5% at the primeurs, although I believe the final figure is more like 15.8%, and the label states 16%. Tasting it at the UGCB a few months ago this was all displayed very plainly, in keeping with my findings at the primeurs, with dried-desiccated fruit flavours, heat and hard tannin, and it did little to make me think of Bordeaux. Hot and awkward, it would be difficult to imagine me ever wanting to drink it. I can’t imagine the alcohol ever disappearing into the rest of the wine.

Château Troplong-Mondot

Others also express similar concerns, albeit without my rather pointed score; I should point out I have no wish to put words in the mouths of others, so I quote here as appropriate. Neal Martin has reported on it having tasted it twice, noting “[w]hilst the aromatics covet the alcohol level, in my mind it renders the finish rather heavy in the mouth and I can feel warmth at the back of the throat that would become fatiguing with time.” He certainly raised a question mark over it by refusing to score it, saying on Twitter when I asked why he had not done so that he wants to taste blind next year (no doubt at the Southwold tasting) before awarding a magic number. And looking at the reports from Team Jancis, these also seem very unenthusiastic; Jancis Robinson wrote “[p]erfectly serviceable modern St-Emilion style but a little bit painful to taste at this stage. Slightly drying finish. Pushed too far?” in April 2011, Julia Harding wrote “[v]ery very oaky, masses of mocha. The fruit flavours are ripe but the finish is tough” in April 2012 and from Richard Hemming we have “[t]he whole thing is overstated – which is fine if you like that sort of thing” in November 2012. The scores, however, seem rather positive in contrast – 15.5, 15.5 and 16 respectively.

In the interest of openness and contrast, it is only natural that I should point out that others seem to have adored this wine, with some primeur reports heaping praise upon it. James Lawther for Decanter described it as having a “[s]umptuous texture, balancing acidity and long, firm finish“, James Suckling as “[s]tunning” and Robert Parker as a “stunningly rich effort [which] offers abundant blueberry, black raspberry, licorice and graphite notes intermixed with a hint of espresso roast, a seriously concentrated, super-intense mouthfeel, full-bodied power, a complex, multidimensional texture and a nearly 50-second finish” which has to be a classic Parker note if ever there was one. The scores were suitably impressive, with 18.5, 95-96 and 96-98+. Suckling has retasted, but I haven’t seen his new score, but I’m sure it is similarly prodigious as his first. Parker will, I imagine, come out with at least a 98.

Happily these days there doesn’t seem to be any need for anybody to begin criticising the critics, rather than the wine. Ten-or-so years ago (was it really that long ago?!), a similarly controversial wine from Gerard Perse, than the relatively new owner of Château Pavie, sparked something of a war of words between Jancis Robinson and Robert Parker, and lines were drawn in the sand. We all have our own opinions, and I make no criticism of any of those opinions reproduced above that are different to my own. I merely wish to draw attention to this newly divisive wine, which has – perhaps unsurprisingly in view of the character of the commune – sprung forth from the same appellation as Pavie. The difficulty for the consumer, however, remains the same; whose palate do you follow? If you prefer freshness, vitality, purity and lift, can I gently steer you away from Troplong-Mondot to some other choice? If you prefer power, alcohol, concentration and sumptuous texture, then perhaps Troplong-Mondot is the wine for you?

Of course, there is one other plausible reason why 2010 Troplong-Mondot doesn’t seem to have stirred up the same controversy that 2003 Pavie once did, despite some seemingly disparate opinions. Maybe, as a result of too much hyperbole and exorbitant prices, nobody really cares any more? Is it that these days Bordeaux is more about, points, prices, owning and trading, that it is drinking? In which case, who cares how it actually tastes?

Sauternes #4: Chateau Coutet 1998

Despite a healthy line-up of bottles from the 2001 vintage waiting in the wings, I thought it was about time I broke it up a little with a look at something different. Today I’m glancing back a further three years, to 1998.

The 1998 vintage is not one that generally sends shivers down my spine when it comes to Sauternes and Barsac, even though I think the wines of neighbouring Pessac-Léognan and Graves are under-rated in this vintage. So I was impressed with the show put on by this half-bottle of 1998 Château Coutet. Sure, it doesn’t provoke the electric excitement of other vintages of a similar age, be they 1997, 1999 or indeed 2001, but there is certainly plenty of substance and interest here. A job well done, I would say.

Château Coutet 1998

Château Coutet (Sauternes) 1998: An appealing, golden hue in the glass. It shows an impressive character for the vintage, aromatically rich, concentrated orange fruit overlaid with scents of honey-caramel and praline. Although not the most direct or defined palate, there is certainly plenty of rich texture here, and also lots of flavour to match the character found on the nose. There is a raft of substance, with a tangible minerally, barley-water build to it, and on top of that more of the praline and toffee seen on the nose. It is all cut through with some good acidity, although nothing like what would be required to give this the energy and vigour of a great vintage. Having said that, this is one of the more convincing 1998 Sauternes I have tasted. And it seems, with this evolution, to be just as appealing as previous bottles. 16.5/20 (February 2013)

Sauternes #3: Chateau Suduiraut 2001

Time for another Sauternes now. Deep down I think I’m a reasonably ordered individual, meaning I’m the sort of person who might just plod on with 2001 indefinitely (or at least until the wines run out). I think I will have to mix it up a bit though; there are so many other interesting Sauternes vintages to look at, including 1997, 2003, 2005 and 2007. I even had a good 1998 the other day.

So, coming soon, a different vintage, promise. For today though, another 2001. And it’s another stunner.

Château Suduiraut 2001

Château Suduiraut (Sauternes) 2001: From a half bottle. There is some very subtle volatility which thankfully dissipates. I’ve had this before with 2001 Suduiraut; although the last bottle in 2010 was clean, the one previous in 2006 was quite pungent, although it did blow off to some extent if I recall correctly. Happily here the great concentration of botrytis some comes to dominate, all heady and perfumed, with intense aromas of oranges and apricot and some creamy almond tones too. The palate is confident, just as seductive as the nose, textured, with great grip and precisely defined fruit. No shortage of concentration as the nose suggested, honey on toast with a sprinkling of citrus freshness, backed up by lots of tangible extract. This has an amazing presence in the mouth, and is incredibly long. Another superb wine from a great vintage. 18.5/20 (January 2013)

Marcottage in Margaux

Last year I wrote on the practice of provignage at Domaine de la Bergerie. In a quick two or three sentence recap, provignage is an ancient method of propagating plants, including vines, obviously. A branch or runner is pinned under the soil (with a peg of some sort, or simply by placing a rock over it), after which it will put out new roots, and by cutting the runner/branch joining this new growth to the parent plant – hey presto! – you have a new plant. For free. It was, naturally, an excellent way for peasant vignerons to propagate new vinestock for their vineyard (there’s more detail in the post linked above if the above isn’t clear).

And then along came phylloxera. And now, if you believe the books, vines in France and other infested regions of Europe must be established on grafted phylloxera-rootstock if they are to survive. Either that, or planted on certain phylloxera-unfriendly sandy soils.

Which is why the vines at Domaine de la Bergerie were of such interest to me. They had been propagated using provignage many decades before, and seemed to be thriving, despite living on their own roots in a damp clay soils, just perfect for phylloxera. Proprietor Yves Guégniard didn’t seem to know why or how they survived, but I suspected it was something to do with the fact that in every case the original runner connecting the new plant to its parent had not been cut.

Marcottage in Margaux

I haven’t thought much about it since until, late last year, at Château Boyd-Cantenac in Margaux, there before my eyes were yet more vines propagated in the same manner. The picture above shows the runner, about as thick as my thumb (and so nowhere near as old and crusty as Guégniard’s vines) which originates with the parent (on the right) and dives beneath the surface towards the roots of the offspring plant (on the left). Here, however, owner Lucien Guillemet referred to this practice not as provignage but as marcottage. Having read around, I can see no difference between the two practices; I had thought it might refer to whether the runner is cut or not, but it seems not. Descriptions of the two are identical; I would be delighted if any viticulturists or plant scientists out there want to chip in with an explanation of how they are different, if indeed that’s the case.

I asked Lucien what would happen if the runner were cut, and he was quite certain in his response; the offspring plant will die. This clearly indicates it is reliant on its parent for support, and so my initial suspicions were correct. Its own (no doubt phylloxera-infested) roots are not enough to maintain vitality, but with the help of its parent’s American rootstock it survives. Does any nutrition come from the infected root system at all, I wonder? Is the plant entirely dependent on its parent for life, or is it more of a crutch? And if dependent, is it really a separate vine, and not merely a branch? Should this be taken into consideration when looking at planting density, numbers of buds and bunches, and yields?

Sauternes #2: Chateau Guiraud 2001

Time for another Sauternes now, and after a brilliant 2001 from Château Rieussec I figured it made sense to stick with this vintage. Next up, a wine from a property situated quite close to Rieussec (although I suppose in Sauternes, most places are ‘quite close’ to one another).

Château Guiraud is owned by a quartet of notables, major financing coming from Robert Peugeot (yes, as in the cars) with expertise from Stephan von Neipperg (Canon-La-Gaffelière, La Mondotte, d’Aiguilhe, etc.), Olivier Bernard (Domaine de Chevalier) and Xavier Planty who has been here ever since he was appointed manager by a previous owner, Frank Narby, in 1988. The estate is notable for achieving organic certification in recent years. The style tends towards a slightly fatter character than most other wines of the commune, and has been on the up in recent years I think.

Château Guiraud 2001

Château Guiraud (Sauternes) 2001: A rich, lightly burnished, golden hue here. The nose has a similar depth of character, with oranges, apricots and marzipan, giving plenty of botrytis suggestions. It is full, fat and creamy at the start, showing marzipan and caramel twists through the middle, evidence of considerable richness, but with a good fresh frame to it as well, the richer and more substantial elements lifted by notes of citrus fruits and by a bitter grip that runs into the finish. This has really settled down in the last couple of years, as although it is still a substantial and broad wine the oaky overtones and rambunctious barley sugar notes experienced a couple of years ago seem to have faded. This has firmed up, and yet still carries consierable weight and substance, and is very long. Lots of nutty orange nuances in the finish, which goes on and on. A joy. Another sign of what a great vintage this is. 18/20 (January 2013)

Flawed Beauty: 2009 and 2010 Bordeaux

Take a look back to the 1970s and you can see that things were not all going Bordeaux’s way. There were some fairly shocking vintages, the wines now long dead (I accept there are always exceptions to such ‘rules’, but as a generalisation this stands). Few vintages really excite any interest; I have tasted some 1975s, quite a few years ago now, and found them hard and ungiving. I have tasted fewer wines from 1970, and thought they were better, although they were certainly far from magnificant. The 1978 vintage also produced some decent wines although, perhaps strangely considering it is the most recent, my experience with 1978 is very limited indeed. In addition, the region was rocked by the Cruse scandal when vin de table was creatively ‘reclassified’ and sold off as Bordeaux (i.e. upgraded to the status of the appellation, thereby increasing in value, but obviously ripping off consumers). And, if you’re a Parker follower, you would be inclined to say all the wines were rubbish anyway, the châteaux coasting on their laurels rather than providing true quality, none of which came along until the guru of Baltimore shook the Bordelais by the lapels.

Look to the past decade, however, and it seems like things are really going Bordeaux’s way. The wines are better; I realise that’s a slightly dangerous statement to make, as I know there has been a change in style as well as quality, and I know there are some who see the modern wines as over-fruited, cropped too late, over-oaked, over-rich, inappropriately forced through early malolactic, too sweet and so on. And they hanker for the more savoury wines of the 1950s and 1960s; I understand this position, although I think I prefer the way we have things now. The hit rate is much higher. In fact, in dissecting the vintages of the past decade, I would do the opposite to what I did with the 1970s above; there I picked out two or three decent vintages which were distinct from the dross. But in the vintages since 2000 (I’m being quite liberal in how I interpret the word ‘decade’) there are only two or three questionable vintages among others which range from good to superlative.

Bordeaux vineyard

Why the wines are so much better cannot in my opinion be laid at the feet of one event or individual. The climate is more favourable (although that can’t last forever), there is a more robust approach to viticulture in many vineyards, the processes of winemaking is better understood, wineries are cleaner and better funded thanks to the influx of big-business proprietors, there has been impetus for change and better wine-making (and more profit-making) following astute appraisals from Parker and other critics, and with improved economic prosperity (which remains true despite the recent/current depression in many economies) markets have grown, and new markets are opening up. China remains hungry for Bordeaux despite also becoming aware of Burgundy and the Rhône, and Brazil rather than the oft-touted India may well be the next big market. Little wonder that prices have risen; you could say it was inevitable, regardless of how unpalatable the numbers might appear to cash-strapped consumers (that includes me by the way).

With such broad success it is perhaps worth teasing apart which vintages are merely good, excellent or legendary. Reports from Bordeaux are likely to be very positive these days, at least that’s the case if you’re a fan of the wines (as I am). Only in vintages such as 2011 and 2007 will the criticism outweigh the praise. It can therefore be difficult to figure out what the true ‘worth’ of a vintage is, and where our interest (and cash) should be directed. With that in mind I thought it might be worth putting down a few thoughts on my five favourite vintages of recent years, and where my preferences lie. The following vintages are ranked acccording to my personal preference. These words pertain solely to the red wines, not the dry or sweet white wines. There are several caveats; first, I didn’t taste all the vintages at the same stage in their evolution. More recent vintages were tasted en primeur, but earlier vintages were tasted in their youth (at two or four years of age) or even into maturity. Secondly, my assessments are based purely on aesthetics, and I don’t take prices (which will obviously drive purchasing decisions as much as quality) into account.

Favourite Vintages….

Bordeaux 2005: I think, despite the hyperbole from some quarters about the 2009 and 2010 vintages, this is probably my favourite from recent years. There is ripeness, balance, structure and composure from many of the wines. I haven’t tasted any for some time, but have some in the cellar for future assessments.

Bordeaux 2010: This is a difficult one, as in some communes I prefer 2009 to 2010, and both have flaws to their beauty. In particular, both have given us some problematic wines on the right bank which feel over-extracted, hot and alcoholic. Nevertheless the structure and composition (on the left bank especially) in 2010 appeals more to my palate than the seductive hedonism of 2009 I think. High prices for the second vintage in a row meant I didn’t buy, but there is yet time. I have an extensive report coming very soon.

Bordeaux 2009: A luscious vintage which feels like cream on the palate. That isn’t to everybody’s taste, obviously, but it dings the hedonistic dong, if you see what I mean. Some wines, again on the right bank, come out very alcoholic and extracted. Elsewhere there is a better sense of balance. Happily I have quite a lot of this vintage tucked away for future tastings, so we should see whether they pan out to be as good as expected.

Bordeaux 2000: This is an interesting vintage; certainly a good one, but recent tastings lead me to question the greatness that was attributed early on. The wines are ready or nearly ready in some cases, but a surprising number show a distinctive green streak – very prominent in some wines – which is surprising given the rave reviews the vintage received early on (I didn’t taste it en primeur). I should be able to publish a review of the vintage some time in the next six months.

Bordeaux 2008: Perhaps some would see this as an obvious inclusion, as it has been highly rated by some, but for me it just scrapes in. It was a relatively weak growing season, cool and wet like 2007, but saved by an Indian summer. The right bank is much better than the left, which shows the nature of the vintage more plainly. I feel that a comparative tasting of 2008 and 2006 or 2001 might throw up a few surprises, but I don’t have the money to put on either event….

Beyond my top five vintages, things start to get a little hazy. I think I would probably go for 2001, 2006, 2004, 2002, 2003 and 2007 in that order. I do wonder, with a strong performance on the right bank, and decent wines on the left bank, whether 2001 shouldn’t be above 2008. But I haven’t tasted the wines for so long, I couldn’t say. I have plenty of 2001s in the cellar, but almost all Sauternes. Maybe it is time to see if I can uncover any reds?