In the mid-1980s New Zealand released to the world what would become one of the most distinctive and appreciated white wine styles of the modern era. Sauvignon Blanc was the grape variety responsible, and Marlborough was the region on the tip of wine drinker’s tongues world over.

Cloudy Bay was the first winery to make the all-important breakthrough, and whilst as a global brand it may have lost some of its providence, it typified what so many people loved about this amazing new wine style.

Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc doesn’t hold back any punches, and by delivering big flavours it is hugely appealing and incredibly drinkable. The nose of freshly cut grass, nettles and gooseberry is only a precursor to the explosive party of tropical fruit and racy acidity that engulfs palate.

Located at the north eastern tip of the South Island, Marlborough benefits from a maritime climate, where its close proximity to the sea has a calming influence, bringing mild winters and cool summers. A key characteristic of this climate is the fall in temperature after dark. Whenever the grapes have been ripening during the day, consistent cold nights help bare fruit that will produce wines of high acidity, one of the trademarks of New Zealand wine.

The various vineyard plots make for interesting drinking. As the soils change so do the wines. The best sites have shallow, stony soils where irrigation is almost essential as they are naturally free-draining. Luckily, Marlborough receives relatively low rainfall otherwise it might not exist as a wine producing region at all.

Generally, the best wines come from winery-owned vineyards, where the winemaker can keep a tight control of irrigation, vine tending and harvesting. Some critics suggest that because contract growers are paid by weight, there is less emphasis on quality, although some now use contract wineries to make and bottle their own wine. The final proof can only ever be in the drinking.

With Sauvignon Blanc making such an impact it’s all too easy to overlook the other varieties on offer. Chardonnay is Marlborough’s second most planted white grape variety, but it certainly shouldn’t be looked upon simply as second best. Pinot Grigio (Gris) and Riesling will also stake a claim for the best white wine offering, but when it comes to red there’s only one. Don’t expect much change from a €20 note for the better Pinot Noirs, but these will often deliver better value than many a Burgundy Pinot Noir at twice the price.

For more information visit nzwine.com. To view the range from Curious Wines, with 20% off until the end of April, click here.

The first big laugh of the year was Curious Mike telling me he was going to give up wine for the first 19 days of January. Something about Christmas overindulgence and setting himself a challenge, blah, blah, blah.

The significance of the 19th being his wife’s birthday, so rightly, he knew there was no chance of staying off the sauce that particular day, and why would you persist in punishing yourself through, let’s face it, the least exciting month of the year? (sorry Mary)

I had a sneaky suspicion that he’d forgotten about his self-punishment by the time last weekend had arrived, and this was confirmed to me when I checked Twitter this morning to find out he’d been reading an article on the BBC website about how the inhabitants of a small Greek island were living on average 10 years longer than the rest of western Europe.

You’d probably guess that if wine had something to do with this longevity it would be like Mike suddenly realising his efforts to evade wine for 19 days are about as futile as my attempts to give up chocolate for Easter.

Sure enough wine does a role to play, which would get him thinking it would only be a health risk to give it up. At least that’s what 98 year old Stamatis Moraitis believes. He was diagnosed with lung cancer 45 years ago while living in the US, so he returned home to die and be buried with his parents. After all, it’s an expensive business getting buried in America.

I found my friends in the village where I was born, and we started drinking. I thought, at least I’ll die happy. Every day we got together, we drank wine, and I waited. Time passed by and I felt stronger. Nine months came – I felt good. Eleven months came – I felt better. And now, 45 years later, I’m still here! A few years ago I went back to the US and tried to find my doctors. But I couldn’t find them. They were all dead.

Research suggests that the inhabitants of Ikaria enjoy a good diet mainly consisting of fish and vegetables, with no processed food and little meat. They’re active and they don’t smoke. Stamatis says that he never gets stressed and his slow paced lifestyle is important, as well as being able to frequently socialise with friends and family over a glass of wine.

We’ll all drink to that, Stamatis. Mike included.

Reminder: Six week wine course starting February

Our Wine for Beginners course starts on Wednesday 20th February and will run for six weeks. More details here.

Jack Barrett is also running a wine course. His will last four weeks and starts Tuesday 22nd January. To view more, click here.

Pictured above: Mona Lisa himself.

Kicking off a regular new feature, seasonal recipes from some of the country’s most talented chefs, here’s a winter soup to make you feel all warm inside.

Kate Lawlor is owner and head chef at Fenn’s Quay, Cork, specialising in seasonal dishes with locally sourced ingredients. This butternut squash soup will feature in Fenn’s Quay’s Christmas menu for December. See www.facebook.com/fennsquay for more.

Ingredients

1 butternut squash, peeled and chopped
1 carrot, peeled and chopped
1 onion, diced
1 clove garlic, crushed
1 large leek, chopped
3 potatoes, peeled and chopped
1.5 litres/2.5 pints chicken stock
Salt and pepper
50g/2oz butter & a dash of dash of olive oil

Method

In a large saucepan, place the butter and olive oil over a gentle heat. When the butter has melted, add the onion, leek and garlic, and leave to sweat until soft (5-10 minutes), stirring occasionally. Then add your potato, butternut squash and carrot, and continue to stir. After a further 5 minutes, add your chicken stock and leave on a medium to low heat for roughly 30-45 minutes, or until all the vegetables are soft.

Take your pan off the heat and blend your soup in a liquidiser. Then taste, and add salt and pepper to your liking.

When serving, a dollop of creme fraiche with chive or basil through it goes nicely, or you could simply pour in some cream.

Chef’s tip

To enhance the taste of your soup, you can add seasonings such as ground cumin or coriander, curry powder or chilli at the stage you add your butternut squash, but be careful not to add too much as they can drown out the other flavours of your soup.

The wine

The key to the choice here is in the title – ‘creamy’. Immediately it takes us to oaked Chardonnays or blends from the south of France, but equally you could go with a creamy, oaky red from the likes of Rioja.

Our choice is the Domaine de Pellehaut Ampelomeryx, a white blend from the Côtes de Gascogne in France. Rich and creamy, with ripe autumn fruit and dried stone-fruit, and layers of savoury spice that would accentuate the subtle, earthy flavours of the soup.

They say that smell is the most powerful of the five senses in terms of evoking memory and emotion, and there’s simply nothing beats the heady aromas of mulled wine to remind everyone that Christmas has officially started.

This is our tried and tested recipe at home. For the wine, we’ve suggested our house red, the Cuvée Jean-Paul Rouge, but any red wine that’s medium-bodied, fruity and preferably unoaked will do the job just fine.

Ingredients

1 cinnamon stick
1 star anise
3 whole cloves
1 bay leaf
good pinch grated nutmeg
1 orange, halved and thickly sliced
30g/1oz demerara sugar
1 bottle Cuvée Jean-Paul Rouge
1 shot (30ml/1oz) Brandy

Throw all the dry ingredients into a large saucepan with just a splash of the wine and heat until the sugar is dissolved, add the remaining wine and the shot of brandy and heat until simmering.

Don’t boil and don’t leave on the heat too long, and add a taste more sugar if desired, but that’s it. Oh, some Irish coffee glasses to serve so you don’t burn your hands while cupping it to your nose and breathing in. Ahhh…

It’s funny to hear people say how they found a wine when they were abroad that was absolutely out of this world. So good in fact that nothing they have tried since has compared or even come close.

I can see where they’re coming from. When you’re somewhere new and amazing, surrounded by good company, good food and a sense of well-being, life just doesn’t get any better. And doesn’t the wine taste amazing!

I believe it’s the simple things that can prime us to experience something differently, particularly when it comes to enjoying wine. One of those things is music, and after reading the findings of Dr Adrian North, Professor of Psychology at Heriot Watt University in Edinburgh, I’m more convinced than ever of how your surroundings can play such an influential role.

I’ve heard of experiments conducted in a supermarket where they play French music only for French wine sales to increase as a consequence, and Spanish music only for Spanish wine sales to increase. Professor North’s study was different. He recruited 250 participants, gave them a free glass of wine (Chardonnay or Cabernet Sauvignon) and instructed each person to go into a room to drink it. They were not allowed to converse with other participants and they had about 5 minutes to finish the glass.

There were ten rooms, five used for the white wine drinkers and five for the red wine drinkers. Each of the five rooms featured one of four types of music (or no music) that played on a continuous loop. The music was described as follows, and each participant could choose which description to match to their experience of the wine: 1) powerful and heavy 2) subtle and refined 3) zingy and refreshing 4) mellow and soft

Sure enough the data firmly pointed towards a force at work. The results were all compared with the room with no music. The choice of descriptive used ranged between 25% and 60% higher than in the ‘no music’ condition, showing a tendency towards a specific description in each of the rooms. It was more obvious with the reds, the 60% statistic coming from the ‘powerful and heavy’ music condition, and 25%, the smallest (yet still significant) increase of the study, for ‘mellow and soft’. In the whites, it was 40% higher for ‘zingy and refreshing’ compared to the ‘no music’ condition.

Professor North concluded that the music shifted the perception of the wine in the direction of the mood expressed by the music by an average of 37.25%, therefore, background music can significantly influence your perception of the taste of wine. My own conclusion is that music isn’t the only thing that can prime us in a similar way.

Source: Wine & Song – The Effect of Background Music on the Taste of Wine (Prof. A North, Heriot Watt University)

Yes, it is made from the Chardonnay grape, so why do so many people put aside their Chardonnay prejudice when it comes to Chablis? What makes Chablis so acceptable to people who otherwise hate this fabulous noble grape variety?

Like all Burgundy whites, you could class most Chablis as elegant and easy drinking. For the top wines, you could simply recline into an armchair and spend the rest of the evening nursing a glass in your hand and a grin on your face.

In Ireland we probably concern ourselves too much with the grape variety, but in France and the rest of the Old World it is the regionality that dictates the style. That is particularly true of Chardonnay, which is a variety that takes on the characteristics of the region and the influence of the winemaker in so many ways.

In the winery of a Chablis producer it is what the winemaker doesn’t do, as much as what the winemaker does do. They are quite ‘hands off’ compared to some of the New World winemakers who might be slightly more heavy handed with the use of oak (or advocates of malolactic fermenation). In Chablis it’s less about the oak and more about the ‘terroir’, or in other words the characteristics bestowed on the wine from the specific geographical, geological and climatic conditions of the specific area.

The Chablis vineyards lie to the northwest of the main Burgundy region, only a stones throw from the southern end of Champagne. Its cold terroir of limestone clay suits the Chardonnay grape well. Just about, because this is pretty much as far north as you could go to for growing Chardonnay for still white wine.

The wines can be so minerally you could almost crack a tooth. With an almost green colour in their youth, the flavours are subtle. Green hay, citrus-lemon acidity, green apple, perhaps a touch vegetal, and sometimes with a lick of gun flint. The judicious use of oak by the winemaker, if any, allows for those subtle flavours of the grape and soil to fully express itself.

The most basic level of Chablis, Petit Chablis, is much like any regional white Burgundy. This covers wines from land just outside the main appellation, and those wines from within sourced from vines that aren’t old enough to go into Chablis AC.

Above Chablis AC we have Chablis Premier Cru, where the wines come from supposedly better sites, perhaps with superior micro-climates and sun facing slopes. In truth, Premier Cru can be hit or miss in terms of value for money, as some less expensive Chablis AC is every bit as good, and in some cases better.

This is less so the case with Chablis Grand Cru, which are the richest, heaviest and most complex of all. These are strictly regulated and are best after five years from vintage. They also see more oak ageing than Chablis AC.

We have 20% off Burgundy wines under €25 until the end of October.

Now is a busy time for wineries across Europe. At the retail end of things, our silly season is that three week run-in to Christmas, but the winemakers equivalent of silly season is around harvest time.

Last week saw the harvest begin with the whites and rosés at Château Bauduc. The Cabernet will follow next month.

Europe, with the exception of Ireland of course, had a hot summer.  Last month winemaker and proprietor Gavin Quinney responded to Jancis Robinson’s request for ‘a brief report on how the Bordeaux vignoble is looking so far’. Here’s his response, which gives an idea of the challenges faced during a scorching summer.

Gavin Quinney, August 2012:

After a long, wet spring, we’ve had a lovely summer in Bordeaux. Unlike last year, however, the owners and MDs of leading châteaux can enjoy the end of their August break on the Atlantic coast at Cap Ferret and Arcachon without feeling the need to rush back to their vines. The red-wine harvest is still some way off.

No two growing seasons are ever the same in Bordeaux but the contrast between 2011 and 2012 could not be more striking. Last year, there was an early budburst and the flying start was accelerated by a warm, dry spring. The lack of rain carried on until the second week of July, with many vines suffering in the drought-like conditions. The summer was then up and down, topped off by an early harvest of the dry whites at the end of August. Almost all the reds and sweet whites in 2011 were brought in during September, which is uncommonly early. The last time that happened was in 2003, an altogether different vintage.

After a dry winter, budbreak was a full three weeks later in 2012 than last year and a week later than the norm. The spring was wet, and vignerons have had to be especially vigilant in fighting off mildew, although the top estates are well equipped to handle this.

After fine weather at the end of May, the flowering in June was drawn out, with rain during the first two weekends of the month. The problem was not so much poor fruit set or low yields, although there is some millerandage and coulure, but I can’t recall seeing – across the region – such different stages of evolution from one bunch to the next (as in the pic, above), let alone one vine to the next. From that point on, it was certainly going to be a late harvest, with a risk that ripeness would be uneven.

If 2011 had a spring that was more like summer, and a summer more like spring, then 2012 is truer to type. From the second week of July onwards, we’ve had one of the best summers I can recall [I would second that observation from my vantage point in the Languedoc – JR], with some welcome rain during the first weekend of August (when we were glued to the Olympics). Other than that, it’s been hot, sunny and dry.

In fact it has been rather too hot and dry for some vines during the middle of August. The mini-heatwave has meant that some vines have simply closed down in the sweltering heat. Some exposed bunches have also had a grilling.

The August veraison, again far later than last year, has been protracted, just like the flowering back in June. In most parcels, the grapes have been changing colour at a leisurely pace.

After such a hot August, you might think that we’d be getting ready to harvest. But if you’re coming to the region to see the Merlots being picked, you’re best to book from late September onwards (precocious parts of Pomerol and Pessac-Léognan excepted). As for the Cabernets, aim for October.

Which goes to show that there’s a long way to go yet, and all to play for.

Pictured: “First grapes coming in. This is not where you want to drop an iPhone.”

On the 6th of September last year I put a ring on her finger. Four months later, no further on and delaying like all newly engaged couples love to do, we decided, feck it, we’ll book the priest and everything will fall into place around it.

We were married on the 25th of May. Sure enough, everything had fallen into place. I even remembered to set a reminder on my phone for the morning of the wedding, just in case I forgot on the day. I made it to the right cathedral on time, and I’ve managed to forgive her for making me wait 35 minutes at the alter.

“Why wait?”, we asked each other in January. We’re glad we didn’t. Life’s too short for procrastination. Exactly one year after the proposal we found ourselves on honeymoon in Tuscany, with three months of married bliss already behind us.

I think Tuscany offers a little bit of everything. Two ancient and beautiful cities in the form of Siena and Florence, extensive and breathtaking countryside, and some of the world’s best food and finest wines. We even managed to include two nights at the beach.

The hour and a half drive from San Gimignano to the coast was well worth it for the scenery en route as well as our hankering for sun, sea and sand. We needed some time to spit roast in the Italian sunshine before the onslaught of the beckoning Irish winter.

We started the eleven day trip in Pisa, where we had the opportunity to take in the leaning tower. Nothing can quite prepare you for just how bizarre it looks in real life. It really is tilted at the most absurd, gravity-defying angle, and you don’t realise how much so until you actually clap your eyes on it for the first time.

The pretty walled town of Lucca was next on the itinerary. On one of the days we hired bicycles and tore around its narrow medieval streets before hiring a car and heading to Florence. The history, culture and Renaissance art and architecture was something else, an absolute must see for anyone visting the region.

I’ll post on our indulgent visit to Chianti winery Dievole next week, where we spent three nights. Our last four days were split between the coastal town of Cecina, west of San Gimignano, and the city of Siena, which I slightly favoured over Florence for what felt like a smaller, more compact town centre.

Both of course were rammed with tourists, but we found Siena to have a very relaxed atmosphere in the evening around the famous Piazza del Campo, where they host a traditional medieval horse race, Palio di Siena, twice a year. The heat of the September sun heated the old tiled Piazza surface throughout the day, and by night we lay down, gelatos in hand, and gazed up at the starry night sky in wonder, hope, amazement and eternal optimism.

Oooo, how romantic!

The fifth and final installment of our Bordeaux insight, we enter ‘Entre-Deux-Mers’, or to us, ‘between the rivers’. We’ll also have a glance at the terrific sweet white wines of bordeaux.

To view the previous four posts in this series, click here and scroll down to view.

Entre-Deux-Mers

Entre-Deux-Mers is a 50 mile wedge of land plonked between the Garonne and Dordogne rivers in south-eastern Bordeaux. Wines produced here are bottled under the basic AC Bordeaux appellation. It’s not a region that gains much notoriety, and it shouldn’t either apart from a handful of producers.

In the 1960s the wines of Entre-Deux-Mers were labelled ‘vin de table’, or table wine. They used to produce vast amounts of cheap, sweetish wine white and ship it off to whoever could drink the stuff. When that fashion went by the wayside, Cabernet Sauvignon became trendy, so they tore up their vines and planted Cabernet. The problem with Cabernet is, as discussed in the previous posts, it needs warm soils to ripen fully. Most of the region is loam, a cold soil, so it was difficult while consumers were demanding ripe reds.

Merlot had more success in the 1990s. It can tolerate cold soils and ripens earlier. Some of it wasn’t bad, however, the problem was the producers weren’t making anything on it. One way of achieving ripeness is to cut grapes off the vine to allow the remaining fruit to ripen sufficiently. This required labour which couldn’t be afforded at such a low sell on price.

Today, much of the region seems to have got to grips with reality. If they’re not planting potatoes, the giant co-operatives are still making cheap wine, which is nothing to write home about, but much of the dry whites labelled AC Bordeaux are commendable for the low price. Conglomerates aside, some producers have, and are, making a name for themselves, particularly those who have found better soils and micro-climates (there are some fantastic patches of land scattered throughout the region), and invest properly in good winemaking equipment, barrels and personnel.

Chateau de Sours is well known for its rosé, of which it sells en primeur, by the case. It’s pricey stuff, but Merlot can make for some excellent rosé around here. Chateau de Reignac on the northern borders is churning out wine good enough for top Classed Growth, and just look at what Gavin Quinney is achieving at Chateau Bauduc. If it’s good enough for top chefs like Gordon Ramsay and Rick Stein, it’s good enough for most.

Sweet White Wines

The appellations of Sauternes and Barsac, just to the south of Graves, are known for their sweet wines made from grapes affected by noble rot. This occurs when the Botrytis fungus infects the grape, concentrating its natural sugars, and only happens in small pockets around the world where the moist conditions are just right. The likes of the Cérons appellation, north of Barsac, produces wines that are lighter and not quite as luscious and sweet. They are perhaps preferred by some for being less sweet.

Sémillon is the grape variety most susceptible to rot and so is common in these parts, along with some Sauvignon Blanc and Muscadelle. Sémillon brings body, richness and honeyed, citrus flavours, with Sauvignon Blanc bringing a racy freshness. Peach, apricot, pineapple and a creamy nuttiness ensues in what are some of the world’s greatest dessert wine, particularly those of the famous Chateau d’Yquem (pictured).

While rummaging through James Halliday’s fabulous website last week I came across a post on the so-called ‘Hatcher Theorem’. Chris Hatcher, chief winemaker at Wolf Blass in Australia, is one of the original advocates of the screwcap closure, in a country that has pioneered and helped change consumer perception of this modern and reliable form of packaging. Thanks to people like him, cork is now regarded by most of the New World and now a lot of the Old World as the inferior closure.

Hatcher devised a diagram showing aged characters on the vertical axis and time in years on the horizontal axis. With this he was able to test the development of identical wines over time, with a batch under cork and a batch under screwcap. The results were interesting. In the first year or so there is no difference in the two wines. By the second or third year there is slightly more development under cork, which some people may want. This might not be ideal for white wines though, as most should be consumed early when they are fresh.

What is really interesting is what happens at around 10-12 years. Providing storage conditions are constant, no two bottles are the same when it comes to cork. Under screwcap, however, the wines are all at the same stage of development. The wines enter a plateau that can extend for decades, with incremental changes over time. As well as this of course, there is no fear of cork taint.

Halliday says himself, “There is no ‘Eureka!’ moment, nor is there any ‘drink yesterday’ alarm bell.”

Source: winecompanion.com.au