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!