Yes, you can buy a decent bottle of wine for less than a fiver. Just follow these tips
Cheap supermarket wines might not sound too appealing, but there are some genuinely good bottles out there for less than a fiver, if you know how to scour the shelves – and more importantly, stay away from over-zealous advertising.
Published in the Guardian Read the rest of the article
Published in The Daily Telegraph- Winter 2007
Peter Grogan journeys to the Herts of darkness to find the wisest buyers of wine
The first bottle of wine that really did it for me was a Sancerre from the Wine Society. A girlfriend and I pinched it from her father and I’ll always be grateful to him for that eureka moment of discovering that wine could provide a lot more pleasure than just the effects of the alcohol. I cursed him, though, the other day, as I trudged around Stevenage in the wind and rain trying to find the headquarters of this cooperatively owned wine merchant, founded 133 years ago.
The Society, in which each member owns a single share, fits somewhere between Waitrose – which in itself is unusual in being an arm of the John Lewis Partnership, owned by its 64,000 staff – and grand old wine merchants such as Berry Bros & Rudd and Corney and Barrow. At the station, I was told that “the wine place” was “across the footbridge and round the back of Tesco”.
Standing in front of Majestic Wine Warehouse, I damply reflect that it and, for that matter, Tesco wouldn’t be the forces they are today if the Society hadn’t blazed a trail in cutting out the middlemen. “I don’t think many people in Stevenage know we’re here, really, but that’s OK,” says Pierre Mansour, the Australasia and America buyer, after coming to rescue me in his car.
When it comes to wine warehouses, you have to hand it to the Society. Standing in the middle of its 175,000 sq ft facility – that’s two and a half football pitches – Ewan Murray, who’s in charge of tastings, enumerates: four million bottles, 90,000 active members who together spend more than £1 million a week, and a list made up of 1,000 wines from 20 countries.
But no one will be showing off, because the Wine Society has that very British mix of competence and reticence that makes it seem like a sort of Bletchley Park of the wine trade. “No one here earns a bonus, including me,” says chief executive Oliver Johnson. “So everyone’s focused on quality rather than margin.” It also means that the Society is seldom beaten on price.
Those 1,000 wines include some I’ve never heard of and I’m feeling a little nervous as I prepare to meet the six buyers. They are some of the best “noses” in the business but I soon discover they’re also an easy-going lot who wear their learning lightly.
Everyone makes mistakes, however, and Master of Wine Sebastian Payne, the Society’s long-serving chief buyer, tells of a mix-up on his predecessor’s watch. After a long day’s tasting, the cellar master calamitously ran wines from casks of three different classed-growth Bordeaux châteaux into the same vat for bottling. Rather than a disaster, the resulting blend was an immediate success. “It was baptised ‘The Society’s Centenary Claret’ and it went down very well with the members,” says Payne.
Talking to members a few days later at a Society tasting in London, it seems less surprising that we British – already the most sophisticated wine consumers in the world – look set to overtake France as the biggest spenders. Members, who come from all walks of life, spend on average £6.75 a bottle.
It isn’t a fortune, but it’s two-thirds as much again as the UK average. Joining is easy. That share costs £40 for lifetime membership (bequeathable to a promising Godchild) and you don’t need connections to join. The Secretary “proposes” those who don’t know an obliging member.
The big numbers, which are small compared with the supermarkets, give the Society the clout to buy what it likes and focus on many smaller, family-run wineries. The list is particularly strong on France with, for example, a lavish 16 wines from the stunning 2005 Beaujolais vintage.
But Chile and New Zealand shine, too. Some members prefer the Society’s Choice, a pre-mixed case of wines costing £6-£8. Others pick and choose from the more expensive “Exhibition” range, made up of perennial favourites such as New Zealand Pinot Noirs and Chilean Merlots.
As it is essentially a mail-order business, browsers will miss out unless they’re within reach of the showroom. The good news is that there’s no minimum purchase and mixed cases start at under £5 a bottle.
For subscription customers, wines are chosen to suit a budget and sent out each month. It’s called “Wine Without Fuss”, a phrase that neatly sums up this old-fashioned yet forward-looking wine merchant.
# The Wine Society: 01438 740222; www.thewinesociety.com.
WINES OF THE WEEK
2005 Dourthe Barrel Select St Emilion, 13% vol (£10.49; Waitrose).
Richly fruit-cakey, with the subtle hints of violets and tobacco that usually cost more than this.
The much-hyped 2005 Bordeaux vintage seems to be walking the walk. A fillet steak would be the perfect accompaniment.
2006 Co-op Fairtrade Cape Chenin Colombard, 12.5% vol (£3.99; Co-op).
Co-op leads the way in Fairtrade wines and this is from the biggest project in the world. An attractively perfumed nose and perky melon and apricot fruit.
The price will comfort those who’ve opened their post-Christmas credit card statements.
2004 Ravenswood Old Vine Zinfandel, 14% vol (£7.50; Wine Society).
A century of experience with Californian Zinfandels means the Wine Society knows a thing or two.
This is intense stuff, meaty and spicy with a big slice of blackberry-pie fruit and a hint of liquorice. Terrific value.
2005 Bonterra Chardonnay-Sauvignon Blanc, 13.5% vol (Majestic; £5.59 for two or more to February 5).
Feeling out of touch? Try this – it’s from California, it’s organic, it’s got a unique new screw-top and it’s a blend of grapes to make French blood run cold.
It’s also very crisp, fragrant and very more-ish.
Published in The Daily Telegraph 12/ 18/2006
Vinho verde, the characteristic young wine of northern Portugal, is under-appreciated outside its home. But that’s changing, says Peter Grogan
The “green” in the title refers to youth rather than colour. But there is no doubt that vinho verde is big in Portugal.
Massive, in fact. In the average wine aisle of a British supermarket you will find 500-odd different wines. Imagine, if you will, 3000 bottles in a Portuguese supermarket, every single one of them a different vinho verde.
And then there are uncounted millions of bottles filled with cloudy, still-fizzing wine from the taps of all those gleaming vats that don’t come into the reckoning and, in any case, seldom travel further than the end of the lane.
A few minutes’ drive out of Oporto and the vines that stripe the countryside of the Minho region start to appear. “In late summer the sight of the grape-bearing garlands along every road gives almost pagan pleasure,” wrote Hugh Johnson in the 1970s.
Aside from the stainless steel vats, the basic production methods, at least at the domestic level, would be recognisable to the pre-Christian inhabitants of the region.
The grape varieties grown for vinho verde (which sounds like “been-yo-beard” pronounced with a light Scots burr) are not much travelled themselves. The main varieties are the laurel-scented loureiro, the charismatic trajadura and the crisp arinto.
Alvarinho is the only vine to have upped sticks, but only across the Spanish border into Galicia, where it is known as Albariño. Back in the Minho, it is the principal grape variety in the district of Monção, where it makes arguably the finest, if not the most characteristic, vinho verde.
The squeamish export market, frowning on the cloudiness and the fizz, has required that the “better” wines have their rough edges smoothed off but, refreshingly, some of the less improved varieties have spirited themselves on to those supermarket shelves.
Very little wine of poor quality gets past my wife. Presented with a glass of non-vintage Morrisons vinho verde, poured from its irredeemably naff bottle, she was sceptical.
But the scintillating little bubble and fresh acidity which Hugh Johnson found “so marvellously refreshing” worked their magic, and Mrs G deemed it an excellent spritzer. I, for my part, agreed with Johnson that “it’s all too easy to gulp it like beer on a hot day.”
The cordial relations between England and Portugal, enshrined in the 1386 Treaty of Windsor -still active and unaffected by recent sporting events – remains the longest-lived such agreement in the world.
It will not, I hope, be put in jeopardy by my opinion of the red wines of the region.
Any robust survey cannot possibly ignore them, not least because they have only recently been overtaken in terms of volume of production by the white wines.
The fact that they seem to be effectively unobtainable here is, hopefully, because by some mechanism or other – possibly a clause in the treaty – they have been declared illegal on the grounds of tasting so horrible.
The excellent Monção Co-Operative produces some delightful whites, but even their flagship reds remain very disappointing.
But the last couple of years have seen sales of vinho verde rising at a rate to make even a rosé salesman blush and the good news is that this renaissance does appear to be quality-led.
The basic production methods would be recognisable to the pre-Christian inhabitants of the region
In the vanguard is Portugal’s largest wine company, the family-run Sogrape.
It produces everything from an annual 20 million bottles of Mateus Rosé to a rather smaller number of bottles of Barca Velha, the iconic red wine of which Jose Mourinho famously sent a conciliatory case to Alex Ferguson after an early touchline spat.
Don Hewitson, the proprietor of the Cork and Bottle wine bar off Leicester Square, central London, stocks Sogrape’s Quinta de Azevedo, and enthuses about vinho verde.
“There’s nothing quite like it,” he says. “It has lower alcohol content, usually around 10 or 11 per cent, which is just what you want in the summer. Plus it’s beautifully crisp and has a nice little spritz.”
Wines of the week
2005 Alvarinho Soalheiro, 12.5% vol (£10.75; Butlers Wine Cellar, 01273 698724. £11.99; Handford Wines, 020 7221 9614; Philglas & Swiggot, 020 7924 4494). This is a big, lush wine, with a perfect balance of ripeness and acidity and that je ne sais quoi – honeysuckle, perhaps – that Albariño always reveals.
2005 Quinta de Azevedo, 10.5% vol (£5.25; Wine Society 01438 740222. £4.99 for two or more at Majestic until August 28, then £5.49). Ghostly-pale, “new style” vinho verde with just a prickle of fizz, a sherbetty nose and tingling green-apple acidity. A Granny Smith in a glass and great with oysters.
2005 Quinta do Ameal, 11.5% vol (£8.48; Corney & Barrow, 020 7265 2400). 2005 has produced some unusually rich, full-bodied wines. Barely a hint of spritz, but a lovely, laurel-scented nose and a lip-smacking savoury tang. Not a typical vinho verde, but very classy none the less.
NV Gazela, 9.5% vol (£4.49; Morrisons). Yes, it’s non-vintage, and the labelling is rather startling, but after an hour in the freezer – yes, really – this is as refreshing as a wine can be. Drinking it within an hour or so, to keep the fizz going, isn’t going to be a problem.
Daily Telegraph
Madeira is fortifying its fuddy-duddy image with a spirited campaign,
says Peter Grogan
João Branco rises early on harvest day. At 70, he’s as spry as men half his age and moves nimbly down the mountainside to the little terrace where he tends his beloved Verdelho vines. Three hours later, he is at the unloading bay of the Madeira Wine Company in Funchal, having delivered his entire crop to winemaker Francisco Machado Albuquerque. All 60 kilos of it.
He may supply the smallest quantity of the 800 or so growers who provide the company’s raw materials, but even the largest manages only 35 tonnes, and this diversity – not just of growers but of vine varieties and micro-climates – is reflected in the company’s output. Albuquerque oversees the making of up to 64 different wines – and 30 per cent of the island’s total production – in a single year. The company sells vintages dating back to 1908. (A little of the wine’s intense flavour of coffee, nuts and spice goes a long way, which is just as well at £500 a bottle.)
“The soil here is extremely acidic and that is what keeps the sweetness of the wines in balance,” is Albuquerque’s viticultural analysis. Or, more poetically: “The whole beauty of the island is expressed in their bouquet.”
So what exactly is Madeira and what distinguishes it from that other great Portuguese export (excluding José Mourinho), port? Both are fortified wines, meaning that the fermentation process is stopped by the addition of grape spirit, which at 96 per cent alcohol would stop anything in its tracks. This helps to preserve some of the fruit’s sweetness.
Uniquely, Madeira is then heated to around 45C; the best wines are warmed naturally by the sun, in oak barrels stored in the rafters of the wine lodges; the three-year-olds are heated more pragmatically in purpose-built tanks. It is then that the wines develop their characteristic, rich tang of dried fruits, nuts and caramel. “Unlike port, there are virtually no primary fruit flavours remaining when the wines are released for sale,” says Jacques Faro da Silva, the Madeira Wine Company’s general manager. “Everything has evolved by then.”
The heating process also allows these wines to age more or less indefinitely. Even the contents of a bottle left uncorked will suffer no deterioration for at least a year.
The company’s biggest-selling wine is Duke of Clarence Rich Madeira, made from red Tinta Negra Mole grapes and sold under the Blandy’s label, one of the five original family firms that now form the company. Widely available for about £10, it’s an excellent introduction to Madeira. The wine is deep and dark with plenty of coffee and raisin sweetness and enough of that acidity to keep it from cloying.
Historically, the wine has a rather fuddy-duddy image, which the Madeira Wine Company (now part of the Symington port dynasty) is keen to change. The launch in UK supermarkets of Alvada, a smartly packaged blend of five-year-old wines with a shocking pink label, has been a success.
Unusually, it’s made from two of the four “noble” white grapes varieties, Bual (for flavours of almonds and apricots) and Malmsey (for sweetness, richness and depth) and is delicious with chocolate.
Moving up the quality scale, we come to the “special reserve” and “extra reserve” wines – blends of different vintages with a minimum of, respectively, 10 and 15 years maturation in oak casks. Each is made from a single grape variety – the other two are Sercial (sometimes known by its less noble soubriquet of “dog-strangler”, in reference to the extreme acidity of the young wine) and Verdelho, a grape widely used in Australian whites.
These two make the drier, lighter wines with crisp, citrus-peel aromas and figgy, marmaladey flavours. Although Madeira is thought to have an affinity with nuts and dried fruit, Sercial goes surprisingly well with sushi.
However, the greatest treasures of this island are the “vintage” wines, made from grapes from a single year’s harvest and aged for a minimum of 20 years.
They emerge with all those nutty, coffee and dried-fruit flavours deliciously intensified by the effects of evaporation. This “angels’ share” can be as much as six per cent per year so after 20 years there’s not much left.
“Wine is the biggest industry on the island after tourism,” says the secretary of the Environment and Natural Resources, Manuel Antonio Correia. “And the vineyards create some of the landscapes that the tourists love, so everything is in harmony.”
I’m sure old João Branco, toiling up his vertiginous hillside, would agree – once he got his breath back.
Prices for 10-year-old wines start at about £12; 15-year-olds cost from £15-£25. Waitrose has a good selection of Madeiras, as does Berry Bros & Rudd (0870 900 4300) and Tanners (01743 234455). Vintage wines start at about £50.
Jonathan Ray returns next week.
Wines of the week
2001 Duque de Viseu, 12.5% vol, Portugal (£5.49; Majestic and Waitrose, with 20% off at Waitrose today and tomorrow). Black cherries, bitter chocolate, smooth oak and decent bottle-age aren’t usually on the menu for this price. If you can catch the discount, it’s a steal – if there’s a better red at the price, I’d like to know.
2004 Fox Creek Verdelho, 13.5% vol, Australia (£7.99; Oddbins). Verdelho (pronounced “verdel-yo”) is about the only Portuguese grape variety to have emigrated successfully. This is a great introduction: big and rich, with a zesty nose of limes and creamy pineapple flavours.
2002 Quinta de la Rosa, 13.5% vol, Portugal (£10.95, or £9.85 by the case; Berry Bros. 0870 900 4300). Expensive, toasty oak and expansive, brambly fruit flavours, with plenty of structure and balance. A lot of wine for the money.
2003 Quinta do Crasto, 14% vol, Portugal (£6.99; Adnams 01502 727222). Made from the grape varieties used for port, this has some of the same blackberry fruit and lingering spicy tannins and it’s cheaper in Southwold than in Setúbal. A char-grilled steak would be a perfect accompaniment.
Published in The Daily Telegraph June 2005
The countryside is spectacular, the natives are friendly and the restaurants out of this world – and that’s before you’ve ever begun to explore Napa Valley’s outstanding vineyards, says Peter Grogan.
Amy Currens, of Robert Sinsky Vineyards, sips her wine appreciatively. ”Mmm, Pinot’s good today. It really likes sunny days.
Welcome to Napa Valley, the Monaco of the wine world. An acre planted with the finest vines costs half a million dollars; the average bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon at the excellent Groezinger wine merchants in Yountville is a startling $67 (£39); and even the wine, it seems, knows what it wants.
The success of the endearingly wine-stained movie Sideways is just one reason why each year several million people slurp their way up the 30 or so miles of Interstate 29, from the town of Napa to Calistoga. Among the others are good food, lovely scenery and a sense of well-being among friendly, helpful people. And in California, where the pleasures of the table are paramount, it’s fine to start tippling at 9am in the name of “research”.
The whole valley is now geared towards high-end tourism – more so than most European wine-growing areas – and many wineries have excellent restaurants, shops and facilities. The industry has also been successful in broadening its appeal. A trip to Napa has something for anyone who has ever enjoyed a glass of wine.
It’s best not to come during the main holiday season, in July and August, when the roads and the tasting rooms are full to bursting. The harvest season in September and October is a good time, though even then a midweek visit is wiser than coming at the weekend.
On a short trip don’t try to fit too much in. Three or four wineries a day is ample. And try a couple of small-scale “mama and papa” wineries, rather than just the big beasts. Ballentine Vineyards and Esquisse Wines, in St Helena, are good examples.
Robert Mondavi in Oakville is best for educational and wine-tasting courses. And across the road is an extraordinary flying saucer of a building that houses the joint Mondavi-Rothschild venture, Opus One. Tasting here needn’t take long, since the label produces just the one opus each year. Roger Asleson, director of public relations at the winery, says the British market is vitally important.
“Britons spend almost three times as much on wine per head as Americans,” he says.
As well as winery tours, dining is one of the main attractions of Napa. Even though Heston Blumenthal’s Fat Duck has recently flapped its way past The French Laundry to the number-one spot in the chefs’ and food writers’ poll of the world’s best restaurants, Thomas Keller’s gastronomic fireworks are still second to none. It’s crucial to book three months ahead, but well worth it.
“You wouldn’t believe how much butter you ate last night,” said one of the sous-chefs, the day after my visit. I’m not sure which was worse for my heart, the half-pound or so I apparently consumed, or the bill (about £140 per head, and that’s being very restrained with the wine list).
To get a sense of what all the fuss is about, Keller’s other Yountville eatery, Bouchon, serves unimpeachable French classics – and saves food-lovers the expense of a flight to New York to try his newest venture, Per Se.
So what about all those $67 Cabernets? A lot of the wines from small producers (known as “garage” wines) are over-extracted and over-priced. But since the main market for them is in California itself and they’re seldom found in the UK, it’s still worth trying a few.
The best of the big names – Ridge Monte Bello, Dominus and Shafer Hillside Select – are made in the image of modern claret. Even at today’s friendly dollar exchange rate, however, Bordeaux offers better value.
The best approach – and this knocks $40 off that average price – is to look for the good value “Calitalian” wines, made from the Italian Sangiovese, Barbera and Nebbiolo varietals. Silverado Vineyards and the mighty Shafer, near-neighbours on the pretty Silverado Trail behind Yountville, both make terrific Sangioveses.
A short trip away at Viansa Wines, near Sonoma, they seem to have compressed all of Italy into a few dozen acres, such is their range. There are also good-value wines being made in California from Loire and Rhône grapes.
And the Pinot Noir that only likes sunny days? Well, something has to account for that grape’s inconsistency. Amy Currens could just be on to something.
Snip of the week
2003 De Loach Pinot Noir, California, 14.5 per cent volume (£6.95; The Wine Society, 01438 741177). A plummy, spicy, chocolatey and toffee-like Pinot Noir from the Russian River Valley that is also great value. It packs quite a punch and is perfect with hamburgers and plenty of fries and ketchup.
Wines of the week
2003 Avila Pinot Noir, San Luis Obispo County, 14 per cent volume (£9.99; Oddbins). A “full-on” blast of summer pudding Pinot fruit, which is kept in check by toasty oak. This wine has been winning friends and influencing people from Oddbins to The Ivy restaurant. It is great with steak.
2002 Wente Chardonnay, Livermore Valley, 13.5 per cent volume (£5.59 until July 2; Waitrose). Nicely restrained and balanced in a Burgundian style. Fully dry, but with a lick of tropical, pineapple fruit – not enough to cloy – and some nice gentle oak. Not too little and not too much. Just right.
1999 Beringer “Appellation Collection” Cabernet Sauvignon, Napa Valley, 13.5 per cent volume (£11.99, or two for £9.99 each until August 29; Majestic). Mature, with soft tannins and complex touches of coffee and red capsicum. Very classy and terrific value. Will give any Bordeaux a run for its money.”
Daily Telegraph
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