Gin Lane comes to Hackney

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The Powder Keg Diplomacy team

But how much fun was Ginstock yesterday?  It had all the elements of a successful British summertime event: showery rain, wet feet, queues for the loos and lots of people just happy to be outside having fun.  It also says something about how popular gin has become once again that a festival held in its on honour was a complete sell out.

The format was straightforward: 10 different gin brands teaming up with the mixologists from 10 London bars, each coming up with a cocktail that would be voted on by the customers – a sort of Great British Cocktail Off.  It was a great way to showcase gin’s versatility and some adventurous mixology, with the ingredients stretching from Fino sherry and jasmine-infused tea to Blue Curaçao and pistachio.

Gin is made by re-distilling a neutral spirit in the presence of natural botanicals, the most important of which is juniper – this gives gin its signature flavour.  Other botanicals include citrus peel, coriander seeds, cinnamon, angelica, orris root, liquorice and cassia bark.  Each gin brand has its own distinct personality derived from the recipe of botanicals used and the extent to which they are allow to infuse their flavours into the base spirit.  The term “London Dry Gin” refers to a style of gin where no further flavours (say, cucumber or rose petal) are added following re-distillation.

I managed to sneak a quick taste of each gin alongside the cocktails (spitting after tasting, I hasten to add).  One bar didn’t have any shot glasses so offered to pour the gin straight into my mouth from the bottle – oh the shame of it!  I’m just glad my mother wasn’t there to witness…  Anyway, here are my thoughts on the gins on show:

Beefeater London Dry - one of the most citric gins, it’s zesty and spicy, with notes of bitter orange.  The brand could probably do with a revamp but the red-robed figure apparently plays well overseas.

Bombay Sapphire – delicate, ethereal and gently floral with hints of spices.  The botanicals infuse the vapours during distillation rather than being macerated in the base spirit.

Boodles London Dry – this was used in the winning cocktail devised by The Gilbert Scott (I think it was the pineapple juice that was a hit with the crowd).  The gin was recently re-released onto the UK market and is more woody and herbal with a lighter juniper flavour.

Martin Miller’s – classy stuff: pure, clean, perfumed and slightly fruity.  It has a lovely, long finish and is one of my favourite gins.

Opihr – a new brand from Greenalls which was only bottled for the first time last Thursday. It’s exotically spicy with overt flavours of cardamon, coriander and black pepper.

Plymouth – rich, rounded and fruity, this is old school, earthy gin made at the historic Black Friars Distillery in Plymouth following a long tradition and using water from Dartmoor.

Sipsmith London Dry – produced at an independent, west London distillery, this gin has the classic juniper and citrus flavours and is harmonious and balanced.

Tanqueray – sadly the stall had run out by the time we reached it, which is probably a good sign.  From memory, this is a powerful gin with pronounced rooty, citrus and violet aromas.

Warner Edwards – another new gin to the market made by an artisanal distiller based in Northamptonshire.  It’s very good – all sweet spices and juniper with great length on the palate.

Williams – rounded and creamy with a full, juniper-led flavour, this gin is unusual in that the base spirit is derived from cider apples.  At 48% abv, it has quite a fiery kick.

Wine Wonderland in Selfridges

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I was feeling a bit grumpy today for some reason, so decided to take myself off to Selfridges for a spot of retail therapy.  A couple of hours later and a few Pounds lighter (money-wise, sadly), everything was beginning to seem a lot rosier.  It was in this jolly frame of mind that I revisited the new wine shop in the basement and I was impressed…

I love the clean and easy-to-navigate lay out – way better that the old set-up on the ground floor.  Although the range might lack some depth given the space constraints, it makes up for this with great regional coverage.  The range on offer is eclectic (how about a trying a Franken Scheurebe perhaps?) so has lots to interest your average wine nerd, but there’s plenty to entice the flashier purchaser too, with separate rooms for fine wine and high-end Champagnes.  Also, what a fantastic range of spirits, apéritifs and digestifs.  This is the place to buy a gift or something impressive for a dinner party.

Three reasons to go:

  1. you can splurge on something new/interesting
  2. you can buy a single bottle of something you might otherwise have to buy a case of online
  3. you can try before you buy from the Enomatic machines

Three reasons to resist the urge to wander in:

  1. the mark-up (maybe not the place for a value purchase…)
  2. you will splurge on something new/interesting
  3. do you really want to carry bottles of wine down Oxford Street?

Finally a word on the Harry Gordon bar next door.  I confess I’m biased here as I was quite fond of the Wonder Bar on the ground floor with its mezzanine views.  The refit is smart but as I passed by, there looked to be more ambience in the nearby Nespresso concession.  Maybe I was just expecting too much on a Monday afternoon in my new-found jolly frame of mind…

I Love Lillet

I thought I was alone in my passion for this delicious but obscure French apéritif until I discovered that today is National Lillet Day.  I know, who knew? 

I first tasted Lillet about 10 years ago when I was living in Paris.  A French friend introduced me to it with the caveat, “my parents like this”, which I think was code for, “this may taste good, but is deeply uncool and to be savoured in private only”.  Now I know there are other like-minded folk out there – we have our own day, after all – maybe this is the time to break cover and finally tell people how great this stuff is. 

Lillet has a secret recipe but is essentially a blend of Bordeaux wines (Sauvignon Blanc, Sémillon and Muscadelle for Lillet Blanc and Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot for Lillet Rouge) and citrus liqueurs with, I gather, some Cinchona bark liqueur for good measure.  It tastes of candied orange, lime, honey and mint and a little bit resinous.  It does have a touch of sweetness, but if you serve it chilled the herbal notes make it a really refreshing pre-dinner drink.

It’s typically used as a cocktail ingredient and Lillet’s best claim to fame is that James Bond specified it as a key ingredient of a Vesper in Casino Royale:  “Three measures of Gordon’s, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet.  Shake it very well until it’s ice cold then add a large slice of lemon peel.  Got it?”  With all due respect to James, I prefer mine neat with ice and a slice.  I like to keep a bottle on the go in the fridge in case I fancy a small glass of something but don’t want to open a bottle of wine – it seems to last for a while quite happily.  I also prefer Lillet Blanc over Lillet Rouge which is slightly more bitter.  There is a new rosé version, but I confess I haven’t tried it yet myself.

You can pick Lillet up in Selfridges or Harvey Nichols and online (probably more cheaply).  Maybe best to try it out in a bar first to see if you fancy joining me and my new band of Lillet-loving friends.

 Lillet

Wines from the Volcano

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Bacchus by Vesuvius – Fresco from House of the Centenary, Pompeii

It was rather apt that on the day I due to taste wines from the volcanic regions of Italy at a Decanter tasting, I also had a ticket to see the British Museum’s fascinating exhibition on Life and Death in Pompeii and Herculaneum – the two Roman towns destroyed by the eruption of Mount Vesuvius in AD79.

One thing that comes across from the exhibition is that wine making, entertaining and tavern culture all played a key part in Roman life.  Bacchus, the god of wine, is represented in many of the paintings and artefacts on show and there is also some ornately decorated silverware used for serving wine.  Interestingly, the Romans never drank their wine neat and always diluted it with water (spritzer anyone?) and they also added resin, herbs, honey and spices to personal taste.  I’m sure we can all think of plenty of wines that might benefit from the same sort of treatment these days.

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The followers of Bacchus – Relief from Herculaneum

The volcanic Campania region of Italy, which stretches inland from the Bay of Naples and includes the slopes of Vesuvius, was home to vineyards in the days of Pompeii and still produces top quality wines today.

Characteristically, volcanic soils (both in Campania and elsewhere) are mineral rich and capable of imparting a wonderful vibrancy and edginess to wines.  Add into the mix that volcanic vineyards are usually found on higher slopes where the nights are cool and often contain a large number of older vines (sometimes ungrafted – phylloxera doesn’t like volcanic soils) and you can expect wines with an unmatched purity, freshness and intensity.

There is a trio of grape varieties currently grown in Campania which, it is speculated, may have also been cultivated by the Romans.  These produce some really distinctive, delightful wines which are worth seeking out (better known producers include Feudi di San Gregorio and Terredora, but there are many others):

  • Falanghina: a variety with bags of personality.  Aromatic, lime fresh and summery, it always tastes lovely and peachy to me, with savoury, sea-salty back notes.  Cheeky but charming.
  • Greco: this wine also speaks to you from the glass but in more measured tones.  It’s citrusy with salad leaf freshness and hints of summer herbs and bitter almonds.
  • Fiano: the suave elder brother and my favourite (obviously).  It’s less aromatic and more full bodied, but produces complex, mineral wines which are reminiscent of pears and hazelnuts with a touch of honeysuckle – yum!

Of the other wines from volcanic regions in Italy I tasted this week, I would also suggest looking out for:

  • Etna Rosso: this a blend of the indigenous, Sicilian varieties Nerello Mascalese and Nerello Cappuccio.  These make wonderfully taut, medium bodied red wines with minerality, fresh acidity and bright, crunchy red fruit.  I particularly liked Tenuta di Fessina’s unoaked Etna Rosso ‘Erse’ and smokier ‘Il Musmeci’.
  • Soave: if you overlook the rather dreary, commercial wines from the plains and seek out the more complex wines from the volcanic hillsides in the “Classico” area of the region, you can find some real gems.  These wines, which are made from Garganega with possibly some Trebbiano di Soave (aka Verdicchio), are full, rich and mineral, with persistent flavours of pears, stone fruit, almonds and camomile.  Names to look out for include Inama, Pieoropan and Gini.  I’m also going to name check Sandro de Bruno (www.sandrodebruno.it) whose wines I loved last week although, sadly, they have no UK importer at the moment.

My final recommendation is to go and see the exhibition at the British Museum – there are some poignant reminders of the terrifying way many of the inhabitants met their end, but it is fascinating to experience an ancient culture which in so many ways mirrors our own.

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Mount Vesuvius from the Bay of Naples

Spotting the talent at the Justerini tasting

Somerset House

It was my friend, David, who put the idea in my head.  Wine tastings might be a good place to meet eligible men – eligible meaning wine lovers who are affluent enough to be able to buy wine: surely the perfect combination.  Maybe this is what prompted me to fork out £45 to go to the Justerini & Brooks customer tasting last week, but it was also held at beautiful Somerset House and it’s not often you get to taste such a great range of fine wines from around the world.

Normally, I try to go to trade tastings as there is less crush, more focus and the chance to talk to the producers.  Also, in my new status as “press” I don’t need to pay.  Retail tastings are much more of a social event and there’s something of the free bar about them – I once left two friends alone at the Decanter Italian Fine Wine Encounter only to relocate them an hour later giggling and somewhat over-tasted in the Franciacorta room – you know who you are!

Anyway, I really enjoyed the J&B tasting.  With so many styles to try from around the world in only a few hours, it was a little overwhelming and difficult to keep focus.  Not only that, there were three masterclasses from JJ Prüm, René Rostaing and Davide Voerzio from Roberto Voerzio to choose from.  I managed to squeeze into the latter and learned how their focus on work in the vineyards and particularly on ensuring low yields pays dividends in the cellar.  I absolutely loved their:

  • Barbera d’Alba, Riserva Vigneto, Pozzo dell’Annunziata, 2007 – wonderful plummy fruit burst, lovely smoky finish, aged in the same way as Barolo;
  • Barolo, Rocche dell’Annunziata Torriglione, 2007 – powerful with an almost explosive fruit intensity, but still exceptionally elegant and very, very long;
  • Barolo, Riserva Fossati, Case Nere, 2003 – from a poor vintage but fabulously expressive, silky and delicate

I was hoping to sniff out some good value options overall, but I’m not sure this was necessarily the place for that, so, of the wines I tried, I particularly enjoyed:

  • Sancerre, Petit Chemarín, Vincent Pinard, 2009, £28.40 – poised and harmonious: ripe fruit with a lovely mineral flintiness, creamy mouthfeel;
  • Weisser Burgunder, Trocken, Bernhard Huber, Baden 2011, £14.40 – hint of spritz, white peach and yellow apples, lovely dancing, fresh finish;
  • Soave Classico, La Froscà, Gini, Veneto, 2009, £15.40 – orchard fruit and pear tart, with herbal tones, great body but not at all heavy, yum!
  • Clos Martinet, Priorat, Mas Martinet, 2008, £35.40 – wonderful complexity and intensity: layers of bright red fruit, garrigue, herbs and tapenade – so persistent;
  • Rosso di Montalcino, Le Ragnaie, 2010, £15.40 – softly structured, expressive, succulent, ripe red cherries – what a pleasure!

Back to David’s theory.  Well, I think it has some merit, but I’ll leave it at that as this is meant to be a wine blog, not a dating column.  Suffice to say, ladies, the ratio is in our favour…

A slice of Argentina in Marylebone

I was introduced to a great new wine bar in Marylebone this week, which is a relief as I was beginning to tire of 28°-50° around the corner (gasp).  Zoilo is an Argentinian bar and restaurant tucked away on Duke Street, just down from Manchester Square – handy for Marylebone Villagers and Selfridges shoppers alike.  The sister venture to nearby Casa Malevo on Connaught Street, it has more of a relaxed wine bar feel and manages to be cool, cosy and friendly at the same time.  

The small plate format is perfect for picking, sipping and chatting and elastic enough to cater for shorter dates or longer catch-ups.

The wine list is exclusively Argentinian (Champagne aside).  Many are available by the glass or 375ml carafe, which means you not an expert on wine from this part of the world you can dabble in something new without over-committing to a bottle.   As you would expect, there is a broad selection of Malbecs, but maybe try a chilled glass of fragrant Torrontés or a juicy Bonarda, two other varieties which Argentina has really made its own.

Sit at the bar if you can (upstairs or downstairs looking onto the kitchen) and best to book if you are going later in the week.

PS re 28°-50°, am already looking forward to their new Mayfair venture on Maddox Street opening later in the year…

Zoilo

How can I make myself like Sauvignon Blanc?

I know it’s a bit of a heresy, but I’m really not a fan of Sauvignon Blanc.  It’s the über-aromatic, grassy profile you often find with it and those precocious, New World versions that shout up at you from the glass.  How can a grape with such a big personality be so universally popular?  I just don’t see it.  There is the odd occasion when I do enjoy a glass, but for me there are a few pre-requisites:

  1. Restraint: I like a bit of varietal character, but I don’t want to eat tomato leaves and I don’t want to drink something that tastes of them either.  There are some exceptions – Sauvignons from the Saint Clair Estate in Marlborough NZ, for example – but there are far too many over-extracted Kiwi offenders on the supermarket shelves.
  2. Minerality: think of an elegant, stony Sancerre or smoky Pouilly Fumé, something to add an extra dimension.  Now we’re getting somewhere.
  3. More elderflower aromas and ripe fruit flavours, fewer green pepper and asparagus notes (see 1. above, I don’t really want to drink my greens).
  4. A partner in crime: how about blending with another variety just to lend a little balance?
  5. A touch of oak perhaps: this is, I confess, a weakness of mine.  I have a high tolerance for oaky flavours so, as this is my wish list, I’m going to throw that in too.

Bearing all this in mind, if I had to drink a Sauvignon-based wine and money were no object, I would probably plump for a white from Pessac Léognan.  This appellation is found to the west and south of the city of Bordeaux, not too far from the Atlantic coast.  It’s warmer than the Loire resulting in some riper fruit flavours.  The nearby ocean means vintages can be variable, so the whites are typically a blend of Sauvignon Blanc (around 60%) and Sémillon which gives the winemaker options in years where the weather has suited one variety more than another.  The Sémillon also provides body and a waxy softness which act as a foil to the Sauvignon Blanc freshness.  The wines typically spend 6-12 months maturing in oak barrels, with a varying percentage of new oak.  Stirring of the lees (the dead yeast cells from fermentation) is also used to add creaminess to the wine.

The result is wines that have more weight, so are good partners for food.  On the palate you can get some real complexity, aromatics from the Sauvignon: elderflower, white peach, salad leaves and tarragon; honeyed notes from the Sémillon; and hints of sweet spice from the oak.  The acidity from the Sauvignon and the capacity of Sémillon to develop in bottle means these wines can also age well and still provide pleasure after a good 10 years.

The catch is, coming from Bordeaux, these wines are not cheap and you are unlikely to get much change from £20, if any.  I went to a tasting of classy wines from Pessac Léognan last week and my favourite at the tasting, the 2012 Château de Fieuzal didn’t even list the RRP – if you have to ask, you can’t afford it (although I believe it’s certainly over £30 a bottle).  The Winery in Maida Vale currently has a lovely Domaine de Grandmaison 2011 for £17.99 – worth a try if you fancy splurging on something different…

Grandmaison

Hamilton Russell 2003: The One That Got Away

Last night a friend and I cracked open my last remaining bottle of Hamilton Russell Chardonnay from the 2003 vintage.  Its team-mates had been polished off during their glory years quite a while ago.  This was the one that had got away.  Having been disappointed in the past by some 2005 Pouilly Fuissés which didn’t last the course, Plan B was already chilling in the fridge.  I expected something faded and a bit sherry-like, but what a delightful surprise was in store.

Definitely a mature wine – the deep golden colour and hints of toffee, nuts and candied fruit on the nose give the game away a little – this wine is still in its prime: it’s poised, almost stately.  In the mouth it packs a punch: intense tropical flavours, a touch of nuttiness again, with a creamy, full texture, but not heavy, thanks to the core acidity which refreshes the palate on the finish and has kept the wine young.  This isn’t going to be everyone’s cup of tea, but I have a soft spot for big Chardonnays and this wine gave as much pleasure last night as it did the first day I tried it at the beautiful Walker Bay vineyard nearly 10 years ago.

Coincidentally, I was asked this week what is the ideal drinking window for white wine.  In most cases I’d say drink up.  Never one to follow my own advice though, I have far too many bottles lying unloved in the Eurocave or, even more disrespectfully, on the wine rack in the kitchen.  That’s the trouble, there’s always something new and more exciting to try and bottles can hang around hoping to be noticed for years until they are way past their best.  So thank you, HM03, you may have been scorned, but you had the class to make me fall in love with you all over again.

Hamilton Russell 2003

2011 vintage available at Majestic.  Also, try it at the Union Café in Marylebone.

Recollections from last week

Wednesday – South Place Bar at South Place Hotel
My friend’s directions didn’t sound too promising:”behind the Moorgate Marks & Spencer”… but this hotel bar greets you with dimmed lighting and a good, buzzy feel when you stroll in.  It definitely has the after work feel of its City location, with a slight hint of the executive lounge.  The DJ installed behind one of the sofas seemed a little bewildered at being surrounded by so many suits but carried on valiantly.  We settled into two squashy leather sofas and were able to catch up over a few glasses of wine without straining to hear.  There was only a very limited selection of wines by the glass the night we were there, not at all the range promised by the list on the website.  The Moët Brut Imperial seemed a rather unimaginative house Champagne, but whoever chose the lovely, English, Balfour Hush Heath as the rosé fizz has redeemed themselves.

Thursday – Mews of Mayfair Terrace
One of my current favourites.  The terrace is always packed and the after-work crowd has to slope off mid-work to be sure of securing a table.  Even if the weather means the canopies have to be pulled over and the heaters turned up, it really feels like you’ve stepped out of London and into some side street in a Mediterranean town.  Mews apparently owns the restaurants on both side of the passageway and is in the process of amalgamating the menus.  Until that point the Mews wine list seems to be a touch more expensive than the Mayfair Pizza Company, so best to sit on the latter’s side (in the unlikely event that you have a choice) as its wine list provides a good selection at very reasonable prices.  It even includes a couple of grower Champagnes, although sadly these had run out last week.

Friday – Un-named pub in Marylebone
I have a new rule: no more pub wine.  Ordering wine in a pub is always a triumph of hope over experience.  No pleasure can be derived from a warm glass of Merlot that has been quietly oxidising under the lights for the last couple of days or from an unambitious Pinot Grigio.  Also, how can it ever be a good idea to opt for a 250ml goblet of wine?  Two of those these days and I’m well on the way to sliding under the table.  So, no more.  Pubs are for ales and spirits. That’s it.  With all this in mind, I smugly ordered my G&T on Friday but was mistakenly presented with a G and soda.  No doubt this is good for the waistline and I believe it’s the basis of a Gin Rickey, but I’m old fashioned and to me that’s a crime against Hendricks.  I couldn’t believe it when they wouldn’t change it – is no drink safe in a pub?  Grrrr!