Coming to you June 13th, but available for pre-order on Amazon!
Read Penelope Bass' full review on Imbibe.com
The wine list at Fulgurances is filled with natural wines, which I often find a little too cider-y for my taste. But the Le Bégou I had from Maxime Magnon, that the friendly waiter suggested, was a great choice with lunch to go with all the dynamic flavors in the food.
My heart rose at the Magnon. It sank at the cider.
David Lebovitz, the sublime food writer wrote that Fulgrances review. I love David. He is smart. Funny. Wry. Talented. His recipes always work. All good shit. But it slayed me that-- probably for good reason-- he associated natural wine with cider. He is certainly not alone in believing that all natural wines are cidery, brown, mousey, fizzy and vinegary and stinky.
But they really are not. Something must be done to correct this assumption. Help.
The truth isn't the cider resemblance, which can be lovely, but that there are too many boring, sloppy natural wines being poured. Just because a wine is natural does not mean that it is worthy.
Here's the issue more clearly. Many wines are rushed into bottle way too soon. As a result, what we're seeing is a whole lot of unfinished and unformed wines on the market. I fear David has been victim to the enthusiastic sommelier/wine director pushing them as the new elixirs. Compounding the fresh frenzy for the new natural wines is the drinker refugee happily responding to aromas and flavors so refreshingly different from the commercial and often dead wines on the shelves. It's natural? Then excellent! C'est bio? C'est bon! That sort of thing.
What about that mouse?
That's the retronasal smell that tastes like crud to me, but others recognize it as fun and natural.
Hell with mouse, dragon breath is on the rampage. Fantastic.
Cider to the point of vinegar? Bring it on. Perfect fruit juice? What's not to like?
Charmed by recognizability, these folk want to like the new cool of natural. I suspect some genuinely cozy to the various questionable tastes (taste is subjective after all). They enjoy the rawness. But, quite a few of the enthusiasts are drinking for the same reason people used to drink oaky, jammy bombs of the past-- and hated them. They were told they were supposed to like them. No one wants to look foolish.
Lest you think I am a lone voice shouting into the storm, in recent times I've co-miserated with Madame Lepeltier. I’ve complained with José Pastor. I’ve bitched and moaned with Ms. RawWine herself, Isabelle Légeron, who bemoaned many of the samples that get submitted for consideration (and rejected) for the RAW fair.
Remember the old saw of two winters in the cellar or at least bottling right before the harvest? Well, how passé has that become? Very. Now vintages are being released (all: sparkling, red, rosé and white) five to six months after fermentation started. So many wines served are primary, like a soft-boiled egg that has not set. Flavors still tasting of fermentation, often with some residual or unresolved malo giving a kind of popcorn taste. The reason? Winemakers get quick cash, and besides, this doesn't seem to be a problem in the market.
Another aspect compounding this problem is the growing reliance on a simple form of carbonic maceration. This enables fruity, juicy flavors and a touch of cinnamon. It's a wonderful method for putting out wines early...though not always successful. It can be done right of course, like from Pierre Overnoy (Emmanuel Houillon). But have you seen an Overnoy released after five months? Ha. Never say never, but..never.
Some wine fairs that should know better (not all are vetted on a wine's credit but on the domaine philosophy) are very spotty. Some that are well curated? La Dive, Real Wine, Raw, ViVit, ViniVeri, Karakterre and Les Vins Libre.
I fret along the way that the tasting public, and even some winemakers, are losing the ideal and the knowledge of what is meant by a well-made and stable wine. I want to see a revival of releasing wine when it is ready.
So the problem isn't only with an upcoming drinking generation unable to taste some of the world's greats---the best of the historic Burgundies, the old-school Bordeaux, the glorious N. Rhônes, real Barolo. The responsibility rests with winemakers who have fallen into a trend. They should know better. As a result, a new drinker might actually be losing touch with what a stable and complete wine looks and tastes like.
All of this is giving fuel to the fire of critics, like M. Michel Bettane, that natural wines are for immediate consumption. That natural wine is no more than vin de soif. Which, frankly is ludicrous. Ever had any old Musar? Had any Corbineau? Had any C & P Breton? Puzelat? Chassorney? Priueré Roch? Trinchero? Pepe? To say natural wine doesn't age is completely ignorant. Mais, le monde du vin naturel? Nous avons une problèm. We do.
I consulted with the wise Mr. William Fitch ,who presides over the snappy wine list of Vinegar Hill House. He delivered to me a rant of eloquence.
"Even the natural wine world isn't immune to "treacherous" attempts to fill the maw of the world's aspirational commodity fetishism," he said. And as dew-dappled new drinkers emerge every nanosecond mistaking their own recognition for actual enjoyment, familiarity for them being a surrogate for the quality ascribed to the wine, there is always a demand for carbo pop.”
Carbo has become the poster child for modern natural winemaking. So much so that people taste it and register; natural. When they have a beautifully structured wine, even if it's no sulfur, no additives from organic viti? They think, not.
Case in point, at times Eric Texier uses no SO2. At other times he uses minimal amounts. No dogma. He mostly works with traditional alcoholic fermentation. In the past he felt ostracized by the natural community as if the hipster wine drinkers and sommelier's couldn't comprehend that a natural wine could have structure and not only be sucked down for its glouglou effect.
Without a doubt, a lighthearted vin de soif can be so delightful..(vin de soif doesn't mean that it's not finished by the way) but can never reach the heights of exemplary wines of let's say, Radikon? Or Pepe? Or Gonon? Or Texier? Man, do I ever miss Clos Roche Blanche. They're not supposed to. Their supposed to be fun, picnic, when too much attention isn't being spent on the glass, just clink clinking with friends. But those little unfinished soifs with their cute, eye-catching labels? I'm seeing them along the lines of Kawaii cuteness genre of Japan.
You know, the little girl, lunchbox, petticoat, anklet and Mary Jane? The guys who walk around looking as if the stepped out of Pokeman?
In the hands of Murakami, brilliant. On the street? Perhaps not so much.
How does that translate into wine terms?
A heluva lot of cider, volatilty, unfermented sugars, sometimes out of place fizziness and the worst of worst, not just mouse breath--dragon. Now I have nothing against a wine with cider overtones. Take a recent wine from Milan Nestarec, all brown and all wonderful! The wine must be judged on its effect individually. It needs to be taken in context. But still.
Oh, there's a place for a lovely easy wine, often. I stock plenty in my humble cellar. Even some carbo wines manage to become elegant swans, the aforementioned Overnoy, Joubert and so many others from the Beaujolais, Thierry Puzelat..the list goes on forever. More often I'm seeking out the well made naturals or natural enough traditional with structure, backbone and nerve. ( My purpose is to find them. Yes, that was just a shameful promotion. But I think I deserve one.)
Fitch evoked auteur, Jonathan Nossiter (Mondovino, Natural Resistance). Nossiter admits to having arrived late to natural wine but has made up for it in fierce advocacy. "He thinks natural wine is the last hope for real culture of any kind, but so was jazz, punk, New Wave cinema, etc. Look," Fitch said, "Beautiful weeds sprout in the garden and are instantly transferred to the hothouse and mass produced as symbols of authenticity, long extinct in the wild, barely surviving in the zoos."
Anything that becomes popular is doomed to be shipped off for China knock-offs. Nothing is sacred.
"Don't get me started," Fitch continued after I got him rolling," Even natural wine "folk" need to make a buck. If I could sell my remaining hairs at 100 bucks each I fucking would. Ergo we are all doomed. Oswald Spengler said that optimism is cowardice. I am almost there.”
Almost there, to. Almost.
But we know that we both taste enough through the years to pluck out the wines that rise above the fake and the Kawaii. We know how to find them. Drink them. Pour them. But is the next step one I have resisted, education? I suppose I have clung to the counterculture attitude, the free and emotional response to the category but, well, recently I presented The Truth of Natural Wines for the Wine Scholar Guild. Was really interesting, actually. I never thought I'd ever see a future in wine education for natural. But maybe it has to happen.
So I want to assure David and the others who share similar experiences, that there are so many more wines like Maxime's. The syllogism doesn't hold that X is a natural wine. X is cidery. That means that all natural wines are cidery (and fill in the blank.) It is not long before we just talk of what is great wine by a different standard. Great wines made with no additives, no chemical farming. Just great wine. That's the future.
No wine released before it's time: Christian Tschida (from the August Feiring Line)
"Vacation?"
My friend was incredulous. Did you say you went on vacation? Did you really use that word?
I did.
She had reason to be shocked. For nearly 30-years the only days off I took were the random day or two when traveling, or when I was able to pinch a long weekend. It was all I could manage financially and emotionally. Vacation was a word that was not in my vocabulary.
As a freelancer, envied by employed friends around the world for my 'freedom,' they never truly appreciated how 'un-free' a free-lance writer can be. Yes, I was free to have my own opinions. I was free to be more political and critical than salaried colleagues (is the wine critic the only genre of pundit that is a cheerleader instead of an informed commentator?).
The idea of taking off time, in the end, was far more anxiety-inducing than staying in the chair and pounding out the words.
But the past three years were particularly brutal. And by the end of July when my first draft of the next book was sent in to my editor, I was barely able to grunt. The experience left me feeling trampled by pack of rats and as bloodless as a leftover meal stuck in a web. I determined that I would never write another wine book again. And what's more, I would take a break. Burned out? I was wearing that old dead cat on my chest, still with it's claw and scratch. I could avoid a break no longer, or I would crack in pieces.
Not totally able to leave obligation behind, I lined up a few book events (hey, they are fun, after all), rented a car and headed north to claim it. (Fun tip for New Yorkers, take the train to Hudson and rent from there, about a fifth of the price.)
Me and a car and a road.
Six gorgeous days from Saugerties, to Hudson, to the angel bosom of Vermont.
Want to come with me? Here, take a look.
The weekend began with @uncouthvermouth, Christina and Brunette Wine Bar in Kingston, NY. Excellent Spot!
The next day a little lunch at Fish & Game. Curious about it? It's stellar. Here are bloody mary tomatoes. Heaven. And yes, there's what to drink by the glass and bottle. They're committed to the good stuff.
The next day, For the Love of Wine event at Hudson Wine Merchants. Packed house. Good ego booster.
Michael's dog contemplates my reading
Next day I landed in wine Vermont, and got to drink the wine that only London gets to drink, the white blend, pétillant.
Barrel tasting La Crescent from different terroirs with Deirdre Heekin.
Went out to Worthy Burger (no, I did not, in fact, but opted for smoked blue fish pizza, bizarre but delish). Somewhere in the night, this happened, I picked it up from Hudson. It's worthy. Trust me.
A wine from the late Baldo's hands. 2004 Nebbiolo recently bottled.
Next day, some hikes with old friends, some fresh laid eggs from Deidre's gorgeous picnic, some cider with new friends and the La Garagista goes to Georgia dinner.
Deirdre's husband and life and work partner, the talented Caleb used recipes from For the Love of Wine. They worked! The food that he improvised was also so very Georgian. We snuck in a little La Garagista Night Music, rare (field blend from the Home Vineyard, vibrant wine) and crab apple pink and rosé delicious.
The next day to the vines, more cider, Shacksbury! Fable Farm! More vines, sunset and capped off with a dinner, which is absolutely perfect, at Hen of the Woods, Burlington with Deirdre, Caleb and toasting to the new life of Vermont wines.
The ladies who provided the eggs.
life in the vines.
Somewhere along the way I saw a shooting star of my dreams and a furry bear scampering off in the woods. I felt like a Fresh Air Fund kid.
The morning of my departure, I started out south in the still cool.
The drive down the small winding roads, was so heart- bleedingly beautiful, I couldn't be sorry to leave the hills where the vines started to thrive. I was returning to reinvent freedom and embrace it with new energy.
Looking for updates, reviews and interviews on the new Georgian wine book? Please head over to my
My journey through the country of Georgia, full of people I adore, the wines, the characters, the drama, the silk worms, the homeopathic remedies, the food, the adventures and a special guest appearance by Stalin's last remaining winemaker. It's true.
You can read a little about it at the Wall Street Journal in Lettie Teague's profile, and on The Street and on Elaine's Hawk Wakawaka Wine Reviews... but just go ahead and buy the book!
It was a stop and go, was I leaving or not? A reservation had been mysteriously cancelled---the tricks of Mercury in retrograde? A plot to keep me stateside? Then, the word came, quick, head for the plane.
I ran for the A train to Iberia, forgetting important items back home. Once through security, waiting for the plane, I flipped through Food and Wine magazine and what do you know?
There it was. The Feiring Line recommended as a must read for those interested in organic and natural wines. So if you're not a subscriber ...correct that!
Recognition is sweet. I admit it. I like attention as much as the next guy. We all need pats on the back and affirmation. The TFL really shouldn't be a secret and this should help. So tell your friends and local co-op, wine shop, wine bar and help spread the word.
Fueled by that good news, I want to send you all greetings from Haro in the heart of La Rioja where pig is considered a vegetable.
When a waiter heard that I was a vegetarian, she explained: "The minestra only has a little bit of chorizo, and the soup only has bone, which one will you have?"
"I won't have anything," I answered to her confusion. That's okay. I can stand to lose a kilo or two, and anyway, I more than made up for it with the wine.
After all, I flew here for a tasting of older Rioja to celebrate the first annual Haro Station , where the historical cantinas of Haro open their doors to visitor.
Probably the most sensational wine was the 1964 Lopez de Heredia Tondonia.
That was the wine in my glass when this picture was taken with me and Maria Jose Lopez de Heredia. Obviously we were trying to solve the problems of the wine world (or love, I can't remember which.) It all seemed possible with that Tondonia Gran Reserva 1964. How, I wondered, could a wine taste so evolved but be so very young and vibrant? Mostly 75% Tempranillo, with Garnacha, Graciano and Mazuelo full of cocoa and leather and zingy acidity, so very vibrant and full of under-leaf yet plumptuous? Age-defying glory.
Other great moments were walking the vines of Contino, Lopez de Heredia and Muga, finally getting a grasp of the soils in this complex region.
Yes, part of Rioja has stony soils, like this section of Tondonia
This brings me to an odd segue.
My next book, For the Love of Wine, my odyssey into the world's most ancient wine culture ( I know, a mouthful) has a pub date!
Look for it March 1st.
Hot off the presses; another book will be on its tail. That book might be called The Dirty Wine Guide, or even Dirt. Helping me will be super-sharp sommelier, Pascaline Lepeltier. The two of us will serve up what we aim to be a groundbreaking beginner wine guide. For sure, there's nothing else like it.
Tomorrow, an early morning flight, then a long layover in Madrid so I can sneak in a quick visit with Fabio Bartolomei (Vinos Ambiz).
We'll march through his vines, switching out the limestone of Rioja for the granitic hills of Sierra de Gredos. It's only an hour drive from the airport, so should all be doable in time to get back for my plane and then flap my wings across the Atlantic.
Lastly, a new essay of mine is up on the New York Times's Opinionator site, The End.
So, that's it for now, hope all is well with you.
Someone hadn't received the memo that ever since 2008 when I penned an editorial slamming the bold Californian wines, I had been banned from a number of West Coast-centric tastings. And so believe me I was appreciative when I received an invitation to celebrate and examine Cathy Corison's 25 -years of history under her own label. I said, "Thank you!" before anyone could change their mind.
But, Cathy, actually never read the memo about how California was supposed to taste, and instead she followed her own vision, very much owning her vigneronne voice, never paying attention to the style of the moment and very much intent on having her wine be the best it could be within the parameters of the vintage.
With the knowledge that this was going to be a very special event, I headed to taste through her vinous history, from that first solo vintage of 1987 to her most recent release of 2011.
sorry for the crappy foto: Cathy at March Skurnik office tasting in March.
In view of the industry's love of following trends, from concrete eggs to cold soaks to whatever, Cathy has remained true to one grape ("I'm a cabernet chauvinist."), the same vineyards and one way of making wine. Her wines were true reflections into the vintages, a window into the year's history and changes in the vineyard, just the way it used to be when people embraced vintage instead of fearing the differences. Here were some of the highlights. But wait! After browsing them, don't stop there. In honor of her anniversary, I have reprinted a copy of her email interview to me, of 2010.
Some selected wine impressions
1987: Her first attempt. A very remarkable nose, and a taste of sanded down stones. Gently, with a touch of old-fashioned Napa mint. Refreshing, as it should be as this was a long and cool season with no heat spikes. An easy birth for her first child.
1988- More of a plummy aroma with a nice tang of acid on the Kenya coffee made in a French Press. Good bit 'o tannin and a patchouli finnish which I like on wine and dislike on people.
1989-- At first there's the pencil shaving and tired nose then it goes all gentle and sleek even though faded Bordeaux-like with black Nyon olive and oregano. The critics said forget the vintage. Idiots.
1990- lots off flat and snuffed on the nose but inside, there comes the savory and a superpacked blackberry finish. Surprise!
1992: Exotic touch of coffee, the tannin evident, the fruit muted, but lots of wine.
1993: Milk chocolate sweetness, never overpowering yet a little one or two notes.
1998- Touch o' funk on top of a power-fruit foot forward of raspberry.
2001: It's not just the youth, but something is different and continues through the rest of the wines. the rootstocks? Big. Complete. Young. Classic. Culty cab stand in, but one done by a pro with style. Tannin and fruit dance with savory, pepper and a happy finish. Let's see it in another ten.
2004: Fruit and ash and acid with a long, grippy dusty finish and medium Napa fruit sensibility.
2006: This was picked late, near November, but the wine is balanced power and a touch of orange-like acid.
2008: Fruit reigned in balance with acid, elegance, long finish with vibrancy of young muscles. look for that long roasted heirloom carrot painted in raspberry flavor.
2009: A cool season package that is tight, silty classic.
2010: Also a lot going on here, with chocolate and cocoa but with balance. Has quite a lot in common with 2004.
And......here's the interview.
Hi Alice,
All is well here. I'm expecting a terrific vintage with all this cool weather. Thank you so much for the Portland connection. I've come to love the serendipity of Twitter.
I've been observing the maelstrom of the 'natural' wine discussions from the corner of the room. Like most everything, the truth often sits in the gray area between black and white. (And the truth is different for each person.)
In a day when I am shocked by the manipulation I see in winemaking everywhere, I wonder what happened to growing grapes well in a great vineyard, crushing the grapes and letting Mom Nature do the rest. Our roll should be one of shepherding; we don't want our charges to go over the edge of a cliff.
For me the less manipulation the better. I think of a winemaker's bag of tricks like a doctor's black bag. You hope you don't ever need to use them, and you seldom do, but you're glad they're there. Sadly the tricks have become a routine part of much winemaking.
I don't think anything precludes me from being considered a 'natural' winemaker.
As to specifics, I have not acidulated a Cabernet for nearly 30 years. Fresh out of UCD, over 30 years ago (!), I had been taught that no sound wine could have a pH higher than 3.3. I quickly learned that that was rubbish. That said, I believe that good acidity is one of the most important components of a great wine, both from a winemaking standpoint and wine enjoyment. There are far fewer technical pitfalls in making a wine with a healthy pH. For me, it boils down to growing the grapes well on a great site and picking properly. If I need to wait for flavors to come arounduntil 25°+ Brix and the natural acidity has plummeted, I've failed in the vineyard (or I'm growing the wrong thing in the wrong place).
SO2 seems to be the other bugaboo. First of all, every cell in most people's body produces SO2 as a byproduct of metabolism, so most of us have enzymes in place to deal with it. It is also produced by yeast during fermentation. Some yeast strains produce more than others- a possible tool for winemakers. There IS widespread over- and misuse of SO2 all over the world. One of the things I took away from my academic background in enology is an understanding of how it works. People always say it's added as a preservative. That's true sometimes, but such high levels are sometimes necessary to inhibit microbial activity that the wine is ruined. Making wine from sound grapes and monitoring the health of the wine at all stages allows very minimal SO2 use. For me, the most important reason for SO2 use is to bind up aldehydes that are a byproduct of fermentation (and can occur during cellaring if practices are sloppy, mostly lax topping regimes). High aldehyde levels in wine mask fruit.
Personally, I do something that results in very low total SO2 in the bottle but is frankly very risky. I don't use ANY SO2 at all until after the malolactic fermentation is complete. SO2 added to must to inhibit wild yeasts, gets bound up by acetaldehyde as it is produced during primary fermentation, resulting in a new wine with a basement of significant total SO2 but no free SO2. It is free SO2 that protects the wine in the barrel from spoilage organisms, notably Brettanomyces. This is very risky because of the possibility of a "ferocious" Lactobacillus spoilage (by species related related to the benign ML bacteria) that can produce so much VA during alcoholic fermentation that the wine is spoiled before it goes dry. Again, my best defense is picking sound grapes that don't come into the winery already spoiling. That said, someday I will likely encounter a Lactobacacillus spoilage and need that bag of tricks I mentioned. (Though maybe not- I've been doing this for over 30 years.)
This is turning into a tome and I'm out of time. Natural wine is a big subject. After harvest I should have more leisure to elaborate if you want.
Cheers,
Cathy Corison
Last week I was called to give quote to ABC news for their story on the Morgan Stanley report on the topic. "Could this be really true?" the reporter Alan was in a panic, his beloved Great Western sparkling wine might be in danger, and what would he do then when he wanted his favorite kind of "champagne" cocktail.
I suspected a Chicken Little approach to news --press releases that go out on the wire primed to painc. I tried to get the original MS report before the interview but could not (and still cannot.) And, anyway, didn't anyone remember that just in 2004 the world was drowning in the Euopean Wine lake? Wasn't that a relevant part of the story?
In response to that horror, the wise EU offered financial incentive for landowners: pull out their old vines in exchange for money.
The ruse worked and acreage is down in Italy, Spain and France. It was heartbreaking to see old vines go out and housing go in. In all, according to a WineSearcher article "98,244 acres of vines were ripped out of the ground between 2008 and 2011, equivalent to 10 percent of the European vineyard area. An additional 275,186 acres were grubbed up without any financial incentive. None of the articles I found on the subject even mentioned this short-sighted EU approach. I suppose in the new world where a single vineyard could be 1,000 acres, under 400,000 of lost acres is a whisper, not a shout.
Manipulation of data and the market has always been a mosquito dive bombing me--it bugs me. Where's the truth? First a lake and then a desert? Who's twisting the data for their own purposes. The Morgan Stanely report, it seems, is oddly positioned against odds another, the OIV's. There it is stated that the world wine production has increased and consumption is stabilizing.
I started to wonder what MS had to gain in this study. The savvy blogger for Reuters, Felix Salmon had this to say,
“It was simply trying to present the idea that demand for Australian wine exports is likely to rise, and to justify the fact that a company called Treasury Wine Estates is the bank’s ‘top Australian consumer pick."
But readers of this blog should have real concerns.
Two devastating devastating vintages have ravaged some of the most important (and favorite) European vineyards in the past two years.
2012/2013 were not only backbreaking but puny in (to name a few) Burgundy and the Loire and Champagne. Austria didn't do so well either. Some smaller winemakers simply cannot afford to continue. Those that survive will show fewer and more expensive bottles. This is bad.
If people are looking for industrial strength wine--as most are-- trust me, there will be no scarcity any time soon. In time, China with technology and vast acreage possibility will come on board, they will hire marketers, they will have lovely labels --some critter some not--and out do Australia and Chile in their ability to crank out cheaper wine for the masses. What we have to worry about theare the great wines. Of those there is just not enough to go around. And yes, that is going to get worse.
That Americans and Chinese are drinking more wine and in a few years the demand will outpace the supply, is not groundbreaking news. As I told ABC, don't worry, there will be no shortage of crap around to drink, there certainly isn't now.
Because of bitchiness between Italian natural wine factions-- ViniVeri and VinNatur-- many unhappy winemakers defected to the corporate side. This meant that they actually crossed the threshold and showed their wines at ViVit. This was the Vin Italy's (the huge Italian trade show's) attempt at relevance. They aimed to give some space to wines that are natural and organic.
Wine politics.
It happens.
The verdict from those who went? Thumbs up.
Drama followed. Sunday, when the likes of Arianna Occhipinti and Alesandra Bera were pouring for tasters, suits walked in and tried to catch a thief. These guys were the same fraud squad that snagged the Bulzoni wine shop in Rome back in June. The authorities demanded proof of farming and practice just to be sure there was no fraud perpetrated on the public.
Meanwhile, over in Spain, no squad has trained natural wine in their crosshairs--yet. But the unnaturals are taking advantage of the natural-free- for- all. It could well be the basis of a Luis Buñuel film.
Case in point? Two wine events. Coming right up in Spain, one real, one pretend. Both embody the fight for the sole of wine that just won't quit. Let's start with the fake. Part Two: Talk about burying the lede! When in Italy, Vincent Poussin linked me up with this abortion of justice. May 13th is the day for Vinum Nature - Barcelona.
VN-bcn is a must for everybody who wants to enjoy organic, natural and biodynamic wines from out nearest wine appellations. A gathering space where wineries and its people bring us closer together with a glass filled with sceneries, land and the soul of its wines.
I'm the first person to say that I don't mind the word natural, there's no other word that really works as well and no word is iron clad. But to see the names like Condonui and Paris Balta included and only one biodynamic producer (and a very conventional one at that)?
Forget about natural wine. This is natural travesty.
All is not lost.
A few years back I was held hostage in Ribiera Sacre by the "golden nose. " I was not happy having spent the day with a spoof wine instead of my original plan. But the bonus was, at the end of the day, I found out that my fellow hostage was one of the brothers of Can Roca in Girona and we shared similar palates. Some bond was forged. And yesterday I received this email from Josep Roca of Can Roca in Girona.
The world of wine in Spain evolves, and day by day is closer to the grape and further from the systemic products. I wanted to tell you about this slow by persistent progress in the sensitivity of many producers of our country. Little by little, that conversation you and I had driving on the way back to Santiago, is meaning to me the germ of a new hopeful reality to spanish wines: more pure, fresher, more daring, without any make-up, more sincere and authentic."
So, two tastings, side by side in Spain, one real one fake. Which side will win? I have my hunches. Do you?
Recent Comments