IT’S happened again. Wine crime. I was having one of those excellent evenings – customers on blinding form, booze flowing like a mental river of tomfoolery – I was left to my excellent daydreams of beauty, love and everything magical. And then it struck.
Out of the tropical night came the most heinous of comments. Oh to think that in these enlightened times there are still those that would dare utter, ‘ I can’t stand Chardonnay, please get me a glass of Chablis’.
So, we are to go back to school and I empower you to inform the ignorant masses of our fine learning, thus creating a better world, a harmonious land of peace and love.
Chablis is a rather delightful bit of France, situated in the Burgundy region, south east of Paris. Chablis is known for making excellent white wine – from Chardonnay. Only ever from Chardonnay. It is the law. With one, almost irrelevant, exception, all white Burgundy is made from Chardonnay – Montrachet, Charlemagne, Meursault, Macon, Pouille Fuisse – all of them. Admittedly, in some terrible instances, the Aussies have gone totally berserk with ol’ Charders and battered it senseless with oak, oak chips or oak essence to make some very nasty, buttery gravy – but even in Oz, there is a rich diversity of truly mindblowing gear from this misrepresented grape.
It’s true to say that you won’t find much worth drinking in the bargain basement. I would suggest Chilean wines if you’re looking for an everyday glugger.
If you want to try the really top swag, and it’s all French, you need to spend at least fifteen quid to get anything remotely special.
Vinea on Albert Dock has by far the best offering of top end Chardonnays – topped off with the utterly incredible Domaine De Fussiacus, Pouilly Fuisse. Take a little gamble, open up this fella with a good bit of Turbot, John Dory or even shellfish and then tell me you don’t like Chardonnay – and I shall banish you to Dante’s little known 10th circle, reserved for nincompoops of the dining room, bad comedians and personal trainers.
A slightly lesser crime but still one that can shatter a fine evening, turning a good hearted sommelier into a seething tornado of brimstone and vitriol, is pronunciation of the word ‘Riesling’. Coincidentally, this most noble of white grapes is still misrepresented. The blame lying with billions of litres of nasty, cheap, German plonk being thrust upon our shores during the 70s and 80s. Riesling is capable of making truly exquisite wine and is at its steely, fragrant best in Alsace and the Mosel region of Germany. Both Vinea and Oddbins have carried excellent versions. Look out for Hugel, Turckheim and Trimbach from Alsace. And remember, it is pronounced ‘REECE-ling’, that should make sure your wine flogger doesn’t put you in the naughty book.
The last lesson of the day is a simple one – learn about vintages. If you have a favourite style of wine, check out its good and bad years. European climates, in particular, are so variable and the vines susceptible to a massive range of pests and problems that the quality of the resulting juice can jump all over the place from year to year. Hugh Johnson does a pocket wine guide every year, well worth a few quid. It’s been doing my job for me for nearly a decade.
