A partnership between Rosemount Estates and Gordon Ramsey's American version of Hell's Kitchen has just been announced. This is not the first time that quality chef Ramsey has teamed up with such a producer (it was Lindemans a few years ago) which for us, raises serious questions about his integrity. By Kate.
As I write this, the weather is putting on a show. For the first time today the sunlight is bright and clean but it is also pouring with rain, each drop illuminated like a crystal shard. Very dark clouds remain to the west and against them in stark relief, a rainbow. Several very wet and stoic doves are perched on the wooden fence of our roof terrace and my view of them is framed by abundant red and white geraniums in the pots on my study windowsill. It is all rather glorious.
This is good, as the following is not glorious at all.
Gordon Ramsay is teaming up with Rosemount Estates who will be exclusively featured on his new American Hell’s Kitchen series. He, apparently, has said. “I’m teaming up with Rosemount Estate wines and it’s going to be massive. I’m so excited to be part of this fantastic program and to light up the entire wine category”.
Sigh.
Where to start? Gordon, like many celebrity chefs of the moment, is very fond of jumping up and down – quite literally in his case – and extolling the virtues of excellent produce, good fresh food, and other things which are properly made. Yet there is apparently no problem with him being very excited about including as part of this "fantastic program" wines made in factories - wines that taste like confected rubbish. No problem at all. In fact, it’s going to be "massive."
Does Mr Ramsey drink the wines of Rosemount when he is at home? If he does, then his innate sense of taste (the same delicate discernment that qualifies him to travel the world berating lesser mortals for their lack of the same), is seriously open to question. If he doesn’t drink Rosemount when he's off camera (and I rather suspect the latter), then he is a greedy, cynical prevaricator. Perhaps he is just desperate. Perhaps after months of being dogged by scandal (ready meals in his pubs, extra-marital affairs, the dreadful incident in Australia where he insulted a journalist) it is possible that a label like Rosemount is the only one which wants to be associated with him. Perhaps their target market has absolutely no taste in celebrity chefs and is impervious to bad behaviour. They certainly have no taste in wine.
But perhaps this view is too harsh. So I took myself down to the East Dulwich Sainsburys and, for the first time in years, turned into their wine isle. This is a journey I keep meaning to take, occasionally wondering if somehow it won’t all be as bad as I imagine it to be. Turns out it was every bit as bad. And to add to the pain, the Rosemount bottles are now a very peculiar shape, to conform to their "Diamond Series" and "Diamond Cellar” labels But, really, who outside of the Rosemount Marketing team actually believes that a clumsy bottle with a weirdly cumbersome diamond-shaped base is a very good thing? My head hurts.
Anyhoo. Bottles were duly smuggled into Green & Blue where, taking a deep breath, I resolved to taste them and write a note for each. This is the result.
2007 Rosemount Diamond Label Chardonnay, South Eastern Australia - £7.99
The nose is not promising. To be fair though, it is not that bad. Faintly fruity but I do start to feel that slightly headache-y pang after a few sniffs. It is an ill omen for the assault on my palate. A faint, fairy liquid lemony tang is swamped by utterly artificial oak flavours which intensify towards the back leaving a finish of rancid butter and acrid smoke. It takes quite a few minutes for my mouth to untangle itself from the involuntary rictus of disgust this wine brings on.
2008 Rosemount Diamond Cellars Shiraz Cabernet - £6.99
The nose is horrid. Brutish and confected fruit with headache-inducing undertones. It grows worse on the palate. A burst of confection with big fake fruit flavours overlaid with more of the rancid butter/artificial oak. This is actually more offensive than the white – alcopop wine for people who would rather be drinking Bacardi Breezer but fear it is not sophisticated enough.
I remain determined to be fair and so give samples to a selection of people at Green & Blue. I am fair to an astonishing degree, pouring the wines into our own decanters. And the subtle, subliminal message a wine in a decanter sends should not be under-estimated: it takes a very experienced taster, very confident of their ability, to go against those signals.
First up, Celine, Tom’s French girlfriend. She just popped in and not being pushed for time, gives me very detailed tasting notes.
For the white, Celine thinks that there is white flower and some peach on the nose. “ On the mouth, not so fresh but good balance between acidity and alcohol and for the flavour, the nose is more interesting. The end of the mouth is a little bit short. You can find something better than this one, I think. “
On to the red. “ Very ripe fruit and a little bit of note of game. After the note of the ripe fruit there is some undergrowth. In the mouth, the attack was a bit fresh, it was good. You can feel the tannins, but they are not so strong. In the end you can find notes of game and red fruit, black currant and blueberry. The finish is not very long.” She quite likes it though.
Then Tom , snatched from behind the till for a moment is prevailed upon.
For the white, he found tropical fruit on the nose. He thinks it is a Chardonnay and that it has some oak. (Well done, Tom!) “Got a hint of something richer on the back palate. When you try it, it is tasting very creamy and then more lean” He later says he does not like it.
For the red: “ Quite spicy nose but also quite rich. Palate is tasting like it is very young and also quite robust, almost jammy. Certain it has been oaked. I don’t like it because on first impression it is too rich and ripe and still quite young and second impression is that it is disjointed. No. I don't like it!” He is very definite about that.
Rebecca rushes in from the bar, which is quite busy. She tastes very quickly.
For the white she says, “ I don’t think it is amazing – not mad about it." An emphatic, "No!"
She tastes the red. “ No – not that either. Disgustingly new world." She is even more emphatic about this one. “ Disgusting!” she says again before she rushes back to the bar.
Wayne is then taken from the floor. He says the white is quite nice, almost Sauvignon in character. Bit of richness to it as well. Don’t mind that actually. Quite nice.
Red: "I like the nose, it is very fruity. Yeah, I like that. Quite fruity, bit of richness to it – is it oaked? I like the sweetness”
Wayne is dispatched back.
Finally, Jude. He thinks that the white has a very fake oaked nose to it and you can smell that there is some sweetness. “ Flat, hollow, sweet and vinegar “ he says. He is impatient and wild-haired (the shop is getting busy).
Red : “Smells like a dirty pond. It tastes like a bitter Ribena but with a real muddiness to it - not in a good way” He strides off to make a cheese platter.
So. What has my little experiment proved? Well, that out of the 5 tasters, 4 did not like the white and 3 did not like the red. Since the red had very definite residual sugar, I guess that proves what I always say about sugar – sweetness coves a multitude of sins and people generally respond favourably to it. Something I believe Mr Ramsey himself discusses on his various programs.
Later I reveal all and Jude is of the opinion that I should have put the wines against some of ours. This is an experiment he does often with the team here and he finds that when tasted against real wine, the commercial stuff doesn’t stand a chance.
What depresses me no end is the fact that there are now hordes of celebrity chefs falling over themselves to jump onto the "fresh, properly grown, local produce, home-cooked" bandwagon, but there is a deathly silence in the mainstream media as to the differences between wine made properly and that which is mass produced - the vinous equivalent of a ready meal stuffed with additives. Indeed, the press is full of recommendations for exactly that sort of stuff. Big producers pay big for advertising.
And good ol’ Gordon, clearly not one to say no to any commercial opportunity, however unsuitable, remains beside himself with excitement to be part of "the program." His endorsement, like the wines themselves, is nasty, fake and leaves a particularly horrid taste in the mouth.