Musigny Grand Cru 1999 Jacques Frederick Mugnier

This was tasted recently in the company of old friends including two wine-makers, a wine merchant and a chef/restauranteur. It was an extraordinary evening and this was the highlight.

Colour is youthful but possibly showing its first grey-temples. No rust, just beginning to pale a touch. To be fair, it's rarely the darkest wine in the world.

Purity & perfume pervade on the nose. Crushed wild strawberries and raspberries with a touch of dusty pomegranate. Whiffy gorganzola. The cloud of herby dust in a forest step. Balsamic starts coming through later- more savoury, caramelised onions and hints of bacon fat. Leather.

On the palate, the tannins just caress. It's soft. A touch muted to start. Incredible compote fruit. Beautiful but kind of shy. Those beguiling red fruits from the nose all follow through but become so deeply entwined with the secondaries - perfumed herbs, sweet dusty leather that it just becomes feeling more than flavour. Lasts and lasts...

*****

Tasted 21/10/09 at Shorehead

Domaine Olivier Pithon Cuvée Laïs, Vin de Pays des Côtes Catalanes 2008

I'm in France, making wine. In Collioure. Well, Argelés sur Mer is where I'm staying, and we're making wine in both Argelés and Cospron, which is nestled in between Collioure and Banyuls. The wines we're making will be Collioure, Banyuls, Muscat de Rivesaltes and Côtes du Roussillon. And maybe a few Vin de Pays des Côtes Catalanes. It's hard work, and tonight my mate Andy and his wife Kirsten are hosting a wee meal. It makes a nice change from the constant baguette-cheese-paté combo that forms the cornerstone of our diet at the moment. There are vegetables for a change. So we opened a bottle I bought. Pithon is right next to Domaine Gauby, one of the region's truly great winemakers. He's organic and, I think, other marks of being a generally forward-thinking and hip wine-maker. Biodynamic? Dunno. The guy at the groovy wine shop in Collioure, Vins d'Auteurs, said he was cool and my mate Andy concurred.

The colour is pale, but the gold still yellow.

Malt, oats and green rhubarb hit the nose first, then developing into a bit of peach skin with apricots and just a touch of gunsmoke.

The palate is huge. Woody but curbed white fruit with a youthful zing and granola texture accompanied by dried, caramelised green apples. Long, mouth-filling finish. This is fairly huge stuff, perhaps lacking a bit of finesse.

***(*?)

Tasted 18/9/09 in Collioure

Chateau Thénac Côtes de Bergerac 2005

I was at a trade tasting once, a big one. Supermarket buyers were out in force, every major retailer, wholesaler, wine-writer and hanger-on was milling about, swilling and spitting, small-talking and flattering while shippers, wine-makers, middlemen and me were all trying to impress, make a sale or even just get some interest. It wasn't the most fun in the world, but it was ok. I ate a lot of free water biscuits and drank a lot of free water. I tasted, for the first time, a wine I'd made. In fact, I'd foot-trodden the bloody thing.

Standing next to me at the time was a wine-maker from Bergerac. Well, kind of. He was English. But he'd made wine in Bergerac for quite awhile. And, having done so, he had no fucking time for any of the rubbish surrounding him. There was no fake smile, there was no recycling of nonsense yields or percentages, no quaint hook to drag people in; he looked with disillusioned disdain at those around him and shot grins and winks at the women walking by; he poured because he had to, and he was almost daring you not to like his wines.

I didn't like all his wines. I liked some, disliked others. But I liked the attitude. I enjoyed the chat. I learned a bit. I poured, and smiled and tried not to screw up.

That was my introduction to the wines of Bergerac. I remember more about the maker than the cuvées. So I'm revisiting the region, on a whim, with a wee sample a friend passed my way. I'd never heard of it, but I trust the shipper.

The label brags about using Bordeaux techniques. To be fair, Bordeaux is awfully close. It's a bit harsh to criticise for piggy-backing, but it's also kind of a cop-out on their part. Surely building their regional identity will only do better for them in the long run?

Deep and brooding with just a hint of purple on the horizon. The rest seems black.

Dark forest fruit compote on the nose with just the barest hint of cedar and mint - some more fresh herbs begin on the finish as it were. Fairly simple but very pleasant.

The palate boasts a compelling dustiness that I want to say is its quintessential Bregerac-iness. But I've only tasted a couple of them, and so I can't. But I really like it. Dusty fruit compote with a wee touch of black olive and fresh rosemary. I like the tannin structure and the roundness of it. It claims Bordeaux technique and it tastes a bit of it. Blind, I would have said Bordeaux because I wouldn't have known much better. To be honest, the black olive notes would've flummoxed me a tad too - that always sends me Northern Rhône. But it's not a claret. It is different. It should celebrate that, as opposed to grabbing at the glories of another region.

****

Tasted at Shorehead 21/7/09

Consolation Gris de Gris Rosé 2008

The Consolation vineyard lies in the hills just South of the village of Collioure in South-West France. It is terraced, and ridiculously steep. While the majority of vines (and there aren't many) are Grenache Gris, there are a few oddities thrown in, including one vine of San Sebastian - a varietal I had never heard of before.

We picked it about lunchtime, our second vineyard of the day. My head pounded with dehydration and I worked slowly. The French pickers laughed at me and smoked rollies. They made fun of my pace and my idea of a holiday. I left a fair few rotten bunches on the schistes terraces to rot in the sun. I fell behind a lot.

The vineyard went quickly. It's tiny, and there were a lot of us.

Andy - who owns the vineyard - and I sorted the fruit by hand, bunch by bunch, trying to rid ourselves of pervasive rot. We destemmed them and left them in tank for a night, lightly crushed, making rosé the old fashioned way, drawing a touch of colour from the light pink of their skins.

In the end, there wasn't very much. Had we used a barrel, there wouldn't have been enough to fill it. So it rested in tank, without malolactic fermentation, until Andy liked it enough to put it in bottle. And now there's a wee amount in Scotland and I drink it with as much regularity as I can afford.

So once again I'm writing up a wine that I've helped make, once again casting objectivity and integrity aside. I took more part in this wine than any of the others I helped make. As such, it's rather close to my heart. When it first arrived I was curious, excited and filled with trepidation. Now I've tried it three or four times I think I can attempt a description that leaves some of that behind, and respects the wine for what it is.

The tint is salmon pink - reminiscent of Provençal rosé with a touch of copper at the core.

Strawberries and peaches on the nose with a prickle of mineral freshness. Then some melon and more exotic fruit comes through later.

Most people will drink this very cold. When done so, there's a crisp freshness and tightness that come through as incredibly refreshing and quenching. But they're missing so much. With just a little bit of time at room temperature the fruit and mouthfeel reveal strawberries, peaches and watermelon with just enough citrus zest around the edges to keep everything in line. Waxy-textured with fine-grain minerality just underneath, stretching to a finish that lingers with the memory of fresh strawberry pips.

I don't really get rosés. I enjoy them crisp and fresh on a summer day, but I don't often find writing notes on them of any value. Nepotism aside, I think this is a brilliant wine - textured and rounded with lovely fruit and not a hint of confection.

***** (unabashed affection, I don't care that it seems nepotistic and biased)

Tasted always at Shorehead, most recently 15/07/09

Note: as far as I know, only two cases of this wine exist in the UK at the moment. And I've drunk the better part of one of them. If you see it anywhere, buy it. Even if just to prove me wrong.

Roederer Brüt Premier & Cos d'Estournel 1996

Pre-gaming is an interesting concept. It's drinks at home before a night out - an attempt to get a bit of a buzz on before the having to shell out on overpriced, rubbish booze. It is especially essential before balls, as the booze is that much more rubbish and that much more overpriced. At least, that's what I think pre-gaming is. All this is told to me by younger people, in the prime of their partying age, with hundreds of hangovers in their future.

So I decided to go to a ball with some of these young folks - and they decided to pre-game. Standard fayre for pre-gaming is Smirnoff and a 2 litre bottle of coke. Jack Daniel's often plays a significant role as well.

I'll be honest, neither of those really pique my interest. Fortunately, the folks coming over for pre-gaming also included a mate in the trade, and so our apero (French for pre-gaming) consisted of Roederer Brüt Premier and St Estephe's super-second pagoda-clad Cos d'Estournel - 1996 no less.

The Roederer was less of a revelation than a happy reminder of just how good their non-vintage offering is. I don't really care for their new, streamlined packaging and branding, but that's not really my thing in any case. I marvel at Champagne marketing and the impatience they have for their image. It seems a label must be changed every few years or so, especially if a close competitor has had a makeover themselves. So yeah, I think the new Roederer labels are pretty ugly. Fortunately the wine still tastes ace. Quite rich and toasty with classic apple and perhaps a touch of pear? The bubbles are soft and a little lively. Refreshing and classy.

****

St Estephe - particularly Cos - produces the most exotic wines of the left bank, in my humble opinion at least. Always heady on the nose with crazy spicy fruit on the palate. Cos '96 is no exception. I always feel that the winemakers in Coonawarra are trying to make St Estephe-style wines. They don't often succeed.

The nose is fairly explosive - dark tar and nutmeg surrounding piercing, dark confit fruit. The edges find hints of cedar and leather and a touch of savoury smoked meats.

That piercing dark confit fruit punches big on the palate, but it's never jammy. It's rich, forming the centre from which all the secondaries blossom. Exotic woodspice, nutmeg and cinnamon, a hint of tar with a finish of saddle leather all follow on from that fantastic, heady, exotic fruit. This is not a cerebral wine. There is no lingering, ephemeral dovetail finish. This is an emotive, decadent beast which, were it not for its superb structure and phenolics, I would probably mistake for a new-world blockbuster. I like it.

****

Tasted 26/6/2009 at Shorehead

Chateau Phélan Ségur 2000

A recent jaunt down to London allowed a wee peak at my parents' wine stash. As usual, I shook my head at their indifferent whites and smiled at their groovy selection of Bordeaux. My mom and I cooked up a nice dinner - lamb noisette with baby roast tatties, some spinach and a bowl of pomordorini (tiny tiny tiny tomatoes).

Deep tar and cedar on the nose with a touch of cough syrup and damsons. Quite heady and fun to nose.

The palate is a bit simpler than the nose, but it has a nice hedonism to it. The tar on the nose forms the backbone and the finish - and with such dark, decadent fruit rides on the top of it. This is a big wine, fairly two-dimensional, but there's a lot in those two dimensions. This wine will soften, but probably not deepen, with age. So you could cellar for another 10 years easily. But it's fairly yummy now.

***

Tasted at Miller's Court, 09/07/2009

Mas Cristine Côtes du Roussillon Blanc 2008

This tasting note is morally bankrupt. I kick over the spittoon of vinous detachment and neutrality, I turn a blind eye to scruples and sneeze in the direction of journalistic integrity.

The thing is, I have an interest in this wine. Not financial, sadly, but an interest nonetheless. I helped make it. In a disused corner of a seeming silent co-op near Argeles, we crafted it with blood, sweat, tears and the tools of the trade. I named the ancient press 'the battleship' as we rolled it out and hosed it down after crushing fruit. I took samples from frothing, fermenting barrels, scratching down temperature readings and specific gravity notations. I tasted the juice pre-ferment, closing my eyes and trying to imagine what the future held. Julien and Andy made sure I didn't screw up and in the late summer heat we all dreamt of the beer to come.

So this is a wine I am predisposed to like. This is a wine that I've put on the wine list at the restaurant because I MADE IT. So there.

Slivers of platinum run along the pale gold - there's a nice shimmer and brilliance to it.

Decadent on the nose - fleshy white fruit and honeysuckle with a hint of nettles. Beautifully heady.

Very more-ish on the palate - all that fleshy white fruit is there with lovely minerality providing an exquisite, rounded texture. It hits every part of the mouth. Judicious and careful use of oak gives it good grip also making it a hedonist's delight. It's supple, and while there's a touch of heat - as it is 14% - it's well-balanced and never overbearing. Good length as well. This is tasting brilliant now and it's only been in bottle a fortnight. I imagine it will get better over the next year and taste ace for at least another 5 or 6.

***** (did I mention I helped make it?)

Tasted 30/4/2009 at Shorehead

Marsannay "Les Vaudenelles" 2005 Domaine Bruno Clair

Bruno Clair make some stunning wines; indeed their Gevrey Chambertins and Morey St Denis are prized by Burgundy fanatics and wine lovers in general. Those are pricey however, and deservedly so. This is one of their entry-level wines from their home village of Marsannay. I'm always on the look-out for good value Burgundy. It can be hard to find.

I like the idea of good value wines from houses better known for their stratospheric prices. The Mâcon-Verzé from Domaine Leflaive or the Cuilleron Syrah Vin d' Pays are good examples. When those wines come from a vintage as hyped as 2005, it piques my curiosity.

I've had a long week followed by a long weekend. I cooked some sausage casserole and mash and looked forward to popping the bottle.

The colour is dark burgundy (funny that), with a hint of violet. The rim is beginning to pale.

Touch dusty on the nose, with raspberries and forest floor. There's a bit of maturity there, which is surprising. I was expecting more youth, though I suppose it is four years old now.

The palate is gripping but not harsh. The tannins have softened. The fruit still has that crispness to it, with a backbone of slightly tart raspberries and cranberries. It's not very complex but then it isn't necessarily simple either. It's a bit old fashioned - no overripe fruit or over-extraction - and all the better for it. Tastes great with the food (which I'm rather pleased with).

****

Tasted 27/4/2009 at Shorehead