The Feiring Line

Mt. Etna Speaks (through Frank Cornelissen)

Welcome to a ridiculously rambling post about my day with Frank in London.

"This morning is gone, the only thing I have is the future." Thus spoke Frank C. at the wine-centric restaurant Brawn, on a pre-natal street not far from the Bethnal Green tube stop. 

 I don't know him for long, but that was vintage Frank answering a question from a local writer about whether his wines made on Mt. Etna were the tastes of history.  I had come in a day early so I could swim in his wines for the day, as our visits had that 24 hour overlap. It was also my first stop at Brawn, a restaurant which should have pig in its middle name, but nevertheless there were some delectables, like wonderful English asparagus, artichoke (not from England!) and those afore mentioned sprats in a horseradish sauce which had more than a dash of personality. 

Munjebel Blanco 2007 #4: lanolin, iodine, fresh orange blossom with a hint of orange color

Munjebel Blanco2009 #6:  tannic, waxy, orange blossom

Contadino 20006 #4:  intense red, kirsch, even redder than I thought, tanned leather and zip.

Contadino 2009: Love this, very fresh, some puppy breath-like reduction on the finish but lots of delicacy up front. It's electric and a dash of tomato.

Munjebel Rosso 2005 #3:  this was made under the unlined anfora regime. Let's just say it wasn't my favorite. 

Munjebel Rosso 2006/07 #4: love when I have a note that says, yum. This is a blend of the two vintages. It has that characteristic waxiness that I get on FC's wines. Seems very stable and there's something heavenly, other-worldly, an intoxicating perfume, elegant, gentle. 

Munjebel Rosso 08/09 #6: "One day I'll call Munjabel, classico," said Frank. This at first spoke of an over-ripe nose but then orange, mandarin. begonia and leaf. Loved the balance and it had a spot on neato finish.

That night there was more Frank, but this time I crossed the Thames to Artisan and Vine in Battersea. Talk about Bridge and Tunnel. But sweet spot! Kathryn O'Mara put together a super cute, should be pub and I guess turned into a gastropub wine spot, a blessing for the neighborhood. 

That night several wine writers were around I'd been eager to meet. Fiona Beckett was one, Simon Woods  another. The back room was filled with a number of the curious. As I was.  At one point in the night I returned from a trip to the loo and realized I had left at the wrong time. Simon had made some observation that he appreciated the idea of the wines more than the wines themselves and he wasn't sure if he wasn't tasting more of Frank in the wines than Etna. 

If I ever had any doubt it was when the olive oil and grappa came out. Something that struck me in Frank's wines, especially in the Munjebel, is the waxy, orange blossom component coupled with a grit, like charcoal. I had the feeling that this charbon-like quality might have come from the basalt soil, which I've become fascinated with of late, thinking it might be one of the unsung great elements of terroir.

I taste the rich, sharp delicious olive oil? I got the same thing. Even more shocking, because I sure wasn't looking for it, the qualities came out on his astounding unapologetic, fierce, focused grappe. Mt. Etna speaks louder than Frank. Loudly. Clear. Strong.

 

Get this: Whole Foods on Kensington High Street has the biggest selection of real wines in the city. And they had Contadino on sale! For some reason Peter Hogarth tried to talk me out of it, then I looked over my notes and saw the kirsch, tanned leather exotic scribble? Had I lived there I'd have stocked up.

London Natural Wine Fair: The Debriefing

Now, finally, we can talk.

Gianfranco Manca of Panevino, showing off the spirit at the London Natural Wine Fair. This, once baker from Sardinia's wines were gorgeous. Bottled not by name but barrel position in the winery. In the bucket was a field blend 'orange' wine that had a very deep rose color and plenty of tannin and so much crushed roses I was looking for bits of petals.  Next to him was, oh, my god, Foti from Sicily. Joy.

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Last week was the London Natural Wine Fair, a first in Borough Market, that foodie capital under the London Bridge. (though the best market I actually went to was Broadway Market in the East End in London Fields. Brilliant!)

All of you wine importers scrambling for territory take note.
One Master of Wine (Isabelle Legeron, the only MW who has made Vin Naturel her cause) Les Caves de Pyrene and a few other competing distributors banded together to show their wines, for three days in one space. They were vying for their customers, they showed their wines together. I know this state of bliss will not continue, but I am stunned at the sweetness, coming together for a common love of these wines. I would love to see Joe, Savio, Jenny and Zev and Jose come together in one tasting. But, who knows, as the end of the world didn't happen today, perhaps there's a chance.

This was a perfectly orchestrated tasting, held outdoors, which was appropriate as M. Chauvet always said, one should taste in the open air. We did. It helped. 

In my last two posts I addressed some resistance to these wines by the press. Jancis had said that the wines really weren't a force in London until a year ago which isn't exactly the case. Afterall Puzelat was being sold in Oddbins, no? I also remember finding some delicious wines in restaurants in Clerkenwell in 2006, but the difference is no one was calling them Natural Wines, they were just wines. And that is what I was drinking when I started to focus on 'real' wines over a decade ago, just wines. Wines that I liked. Now that they have a name, no matter what the name is, they have become something to contend with, which has created a very curious situation. 

These wines have been called trendy. The outcry against wines that show some oxidative qualities have been viewed as trendy, those cloudy wines are trendy. I have to pose the question; isn't a trend something you wear, or a pet rock, but is it something to eat? I mean, it might be trendy now to eat offal, but who isn't going to eat pig trotters, tripe, durian if they don't think it suits their taste?

 I'll speak for myself here; trendy or not, if I don't like the taste, it ain't going down the hatch. (by the way, I never stopped loving that trend of the 90's pink peppercorns. Sure they were pretty but they are tasty, and today I applaud when someone has the nerve to use them.)

So maybe 800 people came because they read about the wines and wanted to experience them. But the enthusiasm and the innocent excitement just smacked of authentic response. Some of the wines are for everyone, but many are not. And it's a good thing. I have no desire to prosletyze, because the truth is, right now, there's not enough of these wines to go around for those of us who love them. So if Margaret Rand doesn't like them, that's okay with me. I was very dismayed to bump into one wine writer who attended the Frank Cornelissen dinner and didn't really love the wines (I like the idea of them more than the wines, he said) came over to me on the second trade day, filled with smiles and said, "This is really exciting."

And I thought, damn. The writer who said his readers weren't ready for the wines, has changed his mind.

Here's a little pictorial.

To my right is a gent from Burgundy (via Australia) having a happy moment  with Ron and Elva of Jasper Hill, an Australian (Victoria)winery I have wrongly ignored but I have to say, mea culpa. Lovely wines. And Ron is one of those thoughtful guys, who rejected science (he was a disillusioned food scientist) and yeasted his first year and never again, works with unirrigated vines, and well, the wines work. Even the shiraz. Why are these wines not available on the east coast of the USA?

 

 

Now THAT'A a trend. The blue packet in her shoe is a blue foiled Durex, aka condom.

 

 

 

 

Sylvie Augereau up from the Loire kicking her heels up (or sitting on them) at Terroirs.

 

 

 We are at the end of the fair, and the growers and organizers banded together for photo op.  

Jancis Robinson's Take on Natural Wine in The UK

The other week Jancis Robinson and I took a glass of wine in Borough Market after spitting and sampling at the London  Natural Wine Festival. I guess I'm having a Jancis love moment, which is a treat to get to do it in person after relying on her writing and her books for all of these years. First she turned the camera on me. And then, I had my turn, with Jancis on the other side of the lens. One of the best outcomes of the fair was a fantastic exchange (okay, and some sparring) of ideas and debate.

 

 

 

The British/American Divide Over Natural Wine

In London last week it was all natural all the time.

Wine wise.

The city and restaurants rolled out the reception, reinforcing their wine lists with natural stuff. The red carpet unfurled, yet under the carpet hid trouble. Lurking was a demon, wild, sometimes oxidative, sometimes delicious and some times undefinable wines that came not in three colors but four, and one of them was perceived as brown instead of orange.

Natural wine bashing has become something of a sport in the world and in the United States over the past few years,  but on my home turf there isn't this volume of outrage. However, across the pond, some of the British press was obsessed with chopping off a serpents head, or at least dosing it with sulfur. Several posts popped up, some pro and some con some hedging. 

One columnist admitted he liked some of the wines,  but his readers weren't ready for them. On Monday afternoon, in response to that, his colleague, a smiling and happy Fiona Beckett said almost with almost triumphant rebellion, "Look around you. I think that the consumer is far more ready for these wines than our wine writers." 

It was hard not to notice that 800 people jammed the consumer day, willing to spend 18 pounds a pop for the experience. The atmosphere was charged. This was a be-in. This had the hope and spunk of long ago. But yet, some were scowling. 

 In my presentation on Sunday, there were a few who came to challenge not to converse. That was okay. One local wine writer was dominating,  trying to focus on flaws. The next day flaws were again the focus at Doug Wregg's presentation on how to sell the wines to restaurants. There, wine writer Margaret Rand,  pirated the conversation. Flaws once again. She admitted that there some lovely wines out there but there were too many that were wrong: she pointed to oxidative flavors and aromas. Flawed beyond redemption. I would have rather the response was, "There are those nuts outside loving these wines, but they're flawed. I don't get it. Can you explain where you find the charm here?" But instead they were simply wrong and flawed and I supposed, needed to be deported. Kidding aside, the woman was so upset, it was as if her whole life and study was upended. And that was the problem. It probably was and it probably will me.

London has more MWs per inch or those chasing WSET exams than  New York has barristas. The city is wine education's nervous system and the nexus of wine education denies the existence of wines made without or with low sulfur. And so they are wrong. Yet people love them. It was that simple. It might well mess with some heads and be terribly provocative.

Wine training dictates that there is a right and wrong way for a wine to taste. Where some of us believe a wine smothered in New Oak or even overly stirred lees is 'flawed' by the nature of its manipulation, and ruins the taste of the wine or normal amounts of sulfur, are flaws, the thusly trained MS or MW, is taught to reject the smell and taste of oxidation (nuts, orange peels)  in even small amounts as part of the general wine picture. They reject perceived volatile acidity (nail polish, cider)as well as any trace of brett (sheepiness). Cloudy wines? Don't go there. A fourth color of wine? Impossible. However, to 'those of us,'  these are elements and do not overwhelm the wine, well, terrific.  

 Later that after noon I met Jancis Robinson for a drink at the Wine Wharf. She apologized for the lackluster list, "There are so many beautiful wines over on the other side of the road," she said. What strikes me consistently about Jancis is that her curiosity about wine, and her love for wine, is palpable, after a lovely and long career. 

Compounding the scene was that while a swell of natural appreciation has been happening a slow yet consistent stateside, the UK had a different experience. Jancis said, "We really didn't know about these wines until a year ago." This wasn't entirely true of course, but perhaps a year ago, these wines weren't 'natural' they were just wines. Now that they have a name,  there was a horror, a fascination as a perceived Trojan Horse named vin naturel  was pulled over the London Bridge and stood up in Borough Market both threatening the etablishment and charming the public, and some of the writers.

More posts on London coming up.

(warning, written on train to Boston, this post will be improved and amended in coming days) 

Monday the 23rd, @ 9? Need something stimulating to do? Come engage in fierce debate and fireworks (nibble and sip) at the Natural Wine: A Salon
I'll be there along with Pascaline and a few other surprise guests.

http://nywinesalonnaturalwine.eventbrite.com/

Frank Cornelissen in London

"Why did you come so early?" Frank asked me when I walked into the wine oriented restaurant Brawn.

"To see you again," I said.

 I'm here (apologies to J. Suckling) in London for the Natural Wine Fair and David Harvey, an intense man I met in France several years ago, and Frank's agent (Raeburn Fine Wine)  in the UK was hosting him in several tastings. I met Frank in the fall, and I thought since I was coming anyway...perfect opportunity and the perfect opportunity to convene at Brawn, on an excitingly sleepy stretch, Columbia Road. 

 
beautiful sprats at Brawn

The wines showed brilliantly (I'll record my notes later)  most had been open for a day.  The tannins are present, the texture and acidity of the wines distinct. The #4 Munjabel 07/07 was beautifully waxy, a quality I find on many of his wines, compelling.

                                                                                        
                                                                   

 FC has never ending observations, one of them is that he believes his wines taste better in Japan, away from the electromagnetic effect of the volcano he lives on.  

 

I'm rushing to get to the London Natural Wine Fair where I still have no idea how I'll fill the time for an hour, but I wanted to stop by and say hi.  

 

 

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Going On and On

Yes, for a change, I've had little to say.

Fixing up the last bits of books, writing thank yous and fixing glitches. Generally figuring out what my next move is, and wondering yet again, what is this thing called wine. Find myself with nothing to say and struggling to return to writing roots. Of course there's always wine sprinkled in.

 I seem to have shrunk and inch and gained 7 pounds. THEY tell me that I'll lose the kilo I need to IF I drink less. I think this is a big fat lie. Yes, just to prove them wrong, I am experimenting with drinking less. So, to prove  nothing, last night I was so happy to be drinking the

2008 Guion Bourgeuil with some olives as I was trying to figure out what the hell I'll talk about for an hour next Sunday at the London Natural Wine Fair!.

Back to wine: The Guion continues to be a fabulous inexpensive-ish house wine. Earthy, nothing but the hint of forest fruit. Seems as if Chambers Street is out of it, so sorry! 

I have a pile up of California Pinot, because people are trying to convince me it's worth drinking. I am still unconvinced. But I will get to them. Promise. 

On Easter Weekend, my friend Peter (aka The Young Collector) was in town to dance.  He brought with him an older Calera because he knows of my quest.  

 25 years old and the wine still has not gone secondary. And I realize the fruit just doesn't go away. This is really puzzling. Why doesn't it move? I want it to move. I want it to lose its baby fat, but it clings on and refuses to grow. Is it the grape, the soil? I find this quite a bit with California, the wine holds in there until it dies but with little developing of complexity or nuance. Back to the tasting room.

 

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Having seen my lament on Facebook or Twitter (you can follow me @alicefeiring) that I couldn't find these wines by Frederic Cossard in the New York Market, he said, well, then move back to Boston. Seems as if they made a brief appearance at Gordon's and Peter wisely bought them before he even knew they were this thing called, natural.

LOVELY! Not important, but just a lovely whisper with roses and tar and still a tad of tannin. 

Always packing something interesting, Peter also brought this refresher.  

A gorgeous 2009 rosé from Digioia-Royer, a rosé from Chambolle, which I think is my first. Can only find it, I think, for $20 from Berman's in Boston. Love! What a gorgeous rosé. And from Le Serbet, and Becky Wasserman, of course. Okay, Becky, hook me up when I come to visit in June, okay?

Finally, because I have been sorely disappointed with the wines of Baumard, Peter brought one from the days when I liked them. And you know what? This in 1981 was before Jean was joined by his son, so it is old regime and the wine sang true. A complete wine, just beginning to age. Just lovely chenin. 

PS: I am in love Jody William's Buvette on Grove Street. Safe drinking and small bites. Perfect for dieting wine writers, even if the bites are quite rich.

 

London Natural Wine Fair Schedule

Will you be at the  London for the Natural Wine Fair? 

Dates are May 15-17.

I will be presenting some sort of whatever on Sunday the 15th, between 3-4 perhaps hard-core vs. natural enough wines. What's the difference? What to expect? And why. Or maybe not.

Here is the schedule of master classes. 

 

you    

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And then back in New York City the New York Wine Salon will be presenting a panel on Natural Wine the sorrow and the pity and the joy, on May on the 23rd.

Hope to see you on either side of the pond.

 

Blue Monday

This came up in the morning anxiety because I was thinking, Alice you're an idiot. Why are you traveling soon again? Is it because I am that dog on the bone mission?  But instead, it is me, looking for the story.

 

Would you care to read about  unknown Beaujolais? The people to matter and how they work? My inside scoop the most natural of the Burgundy producers? What about a piece on Burgundy Monopoles? Parsing the secret of Clos de la Maréchale? Or an in depth visit with Lafarge.  What about Ott and his anfora gruner or recipes from Nikolaihoff or a trip with Jutta in the vineyards and the renaissance of the Wien wines? How come there's room for these stories in let's say, Rouge et Blanc for the French but not in any publication for Americans?  

Whoosh.

We've gone retrograde. I suspect the 100+ system is to blame, yet again. The ease of buying wine by the numbers certainly didn't hurt hasten the demise of the art of wine writing the same way that eight years of Bush hastened the demise of literacy, and certainly heightened the distrust of intellect.

Has wine journalism become a victim of reductionism in search of  a soundbyte, just shut up and tell me what to drink? Give me a score and send me to the store.

Now, food gets its due. Zagat hasn't reduced culinary literacy to a score, but wine? Not so. For some reason wine, that glorious one where culture meets agriculture meets humanity meets soul, is disrespected. How can it be otherwise if talking about bottles have been so reduced to 88.

So this morning, on the way to the tax man, I was wondering, will resurrection be ours?  Will the love of the story and the reason for wine revive?  The genre thrives in England, certainly in France, but in America? 

In the past even when we were exclusively a beer and booze nation, there were actually real columns of real worth, not just celebrity-driven copy of today. Hell, even New York Magazine had solid wine writing. Gerald Asher had his legendary column for Gourmet. Jay M's columns for House & Garden were always a pleasure.

I do understand why good wine journalism isn't being championed by culinary magazines,  (except for the occasional story, like Saveur's fabulous American Wine issue) which is why the others, what's left of them, should step up. Why doesn't the New Yorker, Atlantic or Harper's, magazines devoted to culture and literacy help out? Hell, what about  The Paris Review or Tin House.  Even a 500 word spot would help, though add another 1000, and so much the better. Wine is worth reading about, wine literature is worth saving. 

And so, I thank goodness for Jon Bonne, Mike Steinberger and Eric Asimov and San Fran Chron., Slate and the Times, the publications that house them and give serious ink to wine. (with nods and applause to Bloomberg and the WSJ for keeping their columns.)These folk do their homework and back it up with solid journalistic skill. 

It was with these thoughts I set to compiling a short list of wines I like to be included in the back of Naked Wine, when I stopped by to Steinberger's blog on the quirky and troublesome issue of wine journalism ethics and realized the synchronicity of it all.