An afternoon of opulence
I recently went to a trade tasting at the RAC in Pall Mall. This is a scary private members’ club that doesn’t allow women in the swimming pools on certain days of the week. I shuddered to think what their rules were on allowing Indians in the dining rooms. I certainly wasn’t about to enquire … By Amit.
The doorman was wearing a gold cravat and a grey top hat. With fake nonchalance, I gave him a wink that looked more like twitch and asked him where the tasting was being held. He directed me to a room called the Mountbatten Room, which was decked out in the manner the name suggests - chandeliers and ruby red carpets, the old fashioned opulence of an Empire.
The room was crowded and, in accordance with the strict dress code, attendees to the tasting were required to wear a suit and tie. The scene was like a real life episode of Babaar: a heard of elephants dressed up in colonial civility, sniffing and spitting and brushing shoulders in accordance with wine trade mating rituals.
The atmosphere was yet pleasant and there were lovely wines on show from over 70 producers, most of whom had brought their entire range.
Here’s one half of the team that makes up Bret Brothers, proudly naming their wines with an English name to “break the traditions of Burgundy”. Their wines mirrored this fresh and stylish outlook, showing approachable, bright fruit, but which still paid duty to the seriousness of the soil. They have one block, a one wine policy, and so don’t blend the fruit from different vineyards; accordingly, their wines are direct, and focused.
This is Franck Mousset, from Domaine Des Saunades, which is the smallest estate in Chateauneuf-du-Pape, producing only 6-7000 bottles. He’s the third generation in a family of growers and runs the domaine with his wife. I like young white Chateuneuf-du Pape because it can be expressive and refreshing. His was exactly that. His red Chateuneuf was also lovely: vivid and clear 100% grenache fruit, a style which he told me was unusual for the region.
I also visited the table that was housing Cigliuti, from Piedmont. They make a Dolcetto, a Barbera D’Alba, and - my favourite – their Barbaresco. Each of these were luxurious and rustic at the same time. They come from an estate the family of which haven’t produced any boys in the last three generations; it’s currently run by two sisters, who are both in charge of the vineyard and the winery, I told them to call me if they ever needed anything heavy lifted.
There were too many wines to taste in such a short space of time. So I resigned the final half hour of the tasting to chatting with Bob Lindquist, from Qupe wines (pictured).
He makes a Roussanne from his Bien Nacido Hillside which is remarkable. It’s hugely rich, hugely expressive and hugely sexy; one deep sniff had me thinking I had grown ovaries.
The doorman was wearing a gold cravat and a grey top hat. With fake nonchalance, I gave him a wink that looked more like twitch and asked him where the tasting was being held. He directed me to a room called the Mountbatten Room, which was decked out in the manner the name suggests - chandeliers and ruby red carpets, the old fashioned opulence of an Empire.
The room was crowded and, in accordance with the strict dress code, attendees to the tasting were required to wear a suit and tie. The scene was like a real life episode of Babaar: a heard of elephants dressed up in colonial civility, sniffing and spitting and brushing shoulders in accordance with wine trade mating rituals.
The atmosphere was yet pleasant and there were lovely wines on show from over 70 producers, most of whom had brought their entire range.
Here’s one half of the team that makes up Bret Brothers, proudly naming their wines with an English name to “break the traditions of Burgundy”. Their wines mirrored this fresh and stylish outlook, showing approachable, bright fruit, but which still paid duty to the seriousness of the soil. They have one block, a one wine policy, and so don’t blend the fruit from different vineyards; accordingly, their wines are direct, and focused.
This is Franck Mousset, from Domaine Des Saunades, which is the smallest estate in Chateauneuf-du-Pape, producing only 6-7000 bottles. He’s the third generation in a family of growers and runs the domaine with his wife. I like young white Chateuneuf-du Pape because it can be expressive and refreshing. His was exactly that. His red Chateuneuf was also lovely: vivid and clear 100% grenache fruit, a style which he told me was unusual for the region.
I also visited the table that was housing Cigliuti, from Piedmont. They make a Dolcetto, a Barbera D’Alba, and - my favourite – their Barbaresco. Each of these were luxurious and rustic at the same time. They come from an estate the family of which haven’t produced any boys in the last three generations; it’s currently run by two sisters, who are both in charge of the vineyard and the winery, I told them to call me if they ever needed anything heavy lifted.
There were too many wines to taste in such a short space of time. So I resigned the final half hour of the tasting to chatting with Bob Lindquist, from Qupe wines (pictured).
He makes a Roussanne from his Bien Nacido Hillside which is remarkable. It’s hugely rich, hugely expressive and hugely sexy; one deep sniff had me thinking I had grown ovaries.
