A bottle of Sainsbury’s Rioja in late seventies England sparked an enthusiasm which turned into an obsession. Moving to Australia only made it worse. At least I know I’m not alone.
A favourite producer over the last twenty years or so that always seems to make beautifully clean Sangiovese from what are obviously great grapes. No difference here. Pure clean Tuscan Sangiovese full of savoury hedgerow berries, if they have hedgerows in Tuscany? There’s also more Italian cherries, the slightly sour sort and loads of almonds mixed with a handful of walnut. Sweet leather smells too. The structure is impeccable, firm ripe tannin that sweetens with food and the sort of blood orange acidity that points to perfect ripeness. Oak’s an afterthought and spotless. There’s a gentle aristocratic air about lots of Tuscan estates. This one makes wine to match that feeling. Can’t think of a Chianti I’ve enjoyed more.
According to Broadsheet, an on line review of the good and fashionable in Aussie food and drink, one of the booze trends of 2025 is the Sherry revival. Hadn’t really noticed there was such a thing but I do like to think I’ve contributed by downing my share. Not sure it’ll replace beer this summer but I’m convinced a bit more popularity wouldn’t hurt as there’s been such an improvement in quality in recent years. The base wines seem to so much better, the rules are slowly changing for the good and there’s much less dirty old oak flavour and bitter sulphide. I now frequently get the impression I’m primarily drinking a delicious glass of wine without the complications of flor and old barrels dominating, just a tasty seasoning. This is a lovely 500ml of Sanlúcar vineyard magic, well it could be from those great pagos facing the estuary or from just anywhere. The rules haven’t changed to the extent that Manzanilla has to be from grapes grown anywhere near Sanlúcar, just matured in barrels there. Lustau themselves are still wedded to the idea that where the barrels are kept is far more important than where the grapes are grown. Going to their website and clicking on the individual Manzanillas and all there is the frustrating 404 not found thing. Secret? Imagine the French allowing Montrachet to be made from anything, just so long as the barrels are in the Côte de Beaune. Err..maybe they did unofficially once? Enough of the grumpy, the revolution has a way to go and this is really delicious wine. Seaside and estuary breezes, bajomar or low tide as the locals say, golden apple flavours, chamomile and straw, fennel, sesame seeds and a touch of bread dough to finish as the quinine twist of flor begs another sip. There’s a serious swell of great fruit before those complexities of flor and barrel dry and savour. As this bottling or saca is now over two years old, there’s maybe some development away from the fresh and salty towards the golden and rich, perhaps for the better? One of the weird effects of flor aging is the way volatile acidity falls as the yeasty bits float and then drop to become nourishing cabezuelas at the bottom of the barrel. Seems to help these en rama Sherries drawn straight from the bota stay stable and just get tastier in the bottle without extra filtering. Doing less sometimes means more.
15% alcohol, the rules now say 14% and it can still be labelled Manzanilla or Fino. Cork. $45.
A possible treat and maybe a risk as it’s from a natural leaning producer and who knows how it’s been looked after before putting up for auction. A blend of 40% Cabernet Sauvignon, 40% Merlot, 15% Cabernet Franc and 5% Colorino, I suppose it’s what we used to call Super Tuscan last century. From vineyards in Panzano’s famed Conca d’Oro I think, sort of Chianti grand cru? There’s some odd idioms in the English language, one of them about a curate’s egg which seems to have come from an old Punch cartoon and has stuck in usage for something that’s good in parts. This is indeed good in some ways and a bit off in others, but puzzlingly enjoyable. The dodgy things first, volatile even beyond my own inability to notice and a whiff of the old plastic smelling band aid. The good, extraordinarily tasty fruit, just ripe and of beautiful mineral crispness. The cool reserve of old style Bordeaux perhaps? Fresh juicy cherries, sweet but a little tart just like the beauties in season in southern Australia at the moment. Red currants and fresh blackcurrant too. No hint of jam or sugary over ripeness. Pleasing drag of dusty, in a good way, drying and very fine tannin, well meshed to fresh acidity that maybe just gets a touch too tangy to end. Somehow makes another sip inevitable to see if it’s too much, perhaps yes, maybe no. Wabi sabi as it’s so well put in Japan.
14% alcohol. Cork. $32 at auction, good hunting I think.
Barely a score in technical terms, 93 if you ignore the warts.
A biodynamic domaine that seems to have been turning out delicious bottles for some years with a sense of the natural in the best sense. Another from auction. Going away for a couple of months and still browsing and bidding, I got back to over fifty bottles ready to collect from my local Dan’s. Coming home can be fun. One of the good things about Woolies owning so many booze businesses is arranging collection and avoiding a courier leaving boxes of wine on the doorstep at the mercy of hot weather or the opportunistic. Better get drinking. Not owning an AhSo opener or one of those mega expensive Durand contraptions means my sad attempts at extracting dodgy old corks usually ends up with bits everywhere. Finally poured a small taste after straining the powdery residue of tree bark, oddly cedary and dull at first but it did open really well over a couple of hours. It’s labelled Sérine I think to reflect a perfumed Northern Rhône version of Syrah. And, yes, this has that violet and smoky fragrance backed up by some red fruit richness and scrubby herbs. Medium bodied, still fresh and pure fruited, a long way from the alcoholic soup of some warm years’ Southern Rhône. Really good grape growing from what’s become a favourite vintage. The red fruit element is beguiling, raspberries and cherries infused with a bit of fresh mint and spice and such a lovely mouthwatering texture. So glad no one else thought to bid. Happy, it made up for the totally cooked and corked Oratoire St. Martin Haut Coustias from the same box. Sort of a win.
13.5% alcohol. Cork in its most organic vagueness. $21 at auction.
More fun from the auction site with a bid at about half the RRP, lucky me. Well, in this case it is a win as it’s a delicious bottle. A relatively new domaine formed when two brothers returned to the family land in 2018 with Saint Amour as its base. Not much more info comes up in searches as it seems both new and not much reviewed. Notwithstanding a lack of media presence, this bottle shows good fruit from a tricky hot vintage and good winemaking. There’s the density and ripeness of the year but there’s still freshness and a clean satisfying end. Lots of dark cherry, almost kirsch, cooked strawberries, spice and chocolate lying comfortably on a great bed of graphite like mineral things. Gives it a real sense of what searching suggests are granite and silica soils in the Capitans cru, as we wine nerds like to imagine soil infesting wine flavour. Despite the ripeness in a warming world, I must admit to being a bit surprised and happy how Gamay in the Beaujolais crus seems to still hang onto its mineral refreshment. More so than some Pinots from more famous vines further north? Looks like there’s more bottles on the auction site. I’m bidding.
14.5% alcohol but no heat apparent. Cork. $30 auction.
One of the good things about slumming it in the sub $25 section on the Langton’s auction website is the chance to buy some Riesling with a little bottle age. I remember it’s been almost twenty years since I first noticed this Riesling was always full of good fruit and great value in the big wine barns. A three bottle lot seemed worth a modest bid and such is Riesling’s continued avoidance of fashion in the fickle drinks business, it was enough. No surprises, good or bad, old school Eden Valley Riesling writ large for those of us who’ve been drinking it for thirty years, and need things in big letters. As well as the tart citrus and brisk acidity, there’s a nice build of something like stone fruit or mandarin or slightly green mango in the middle before that appetite sharpening acidity bites. Does have that bit extra fruit weight. Think I prefer them picked a bit riper, this tastes like it has a bit of sweetness which does balance things up a bit. No better value first glass of the evening. Particularly in proximity to the seaside this coming summer, please.
Good on Frankfurt airport for having a selection of Rieslings, some from the nearby Rheingau. Stopping for few days in Singapore on the way home to Australia meant a duty free bottle was a possible hotel room aperitif. Singapore may be a comfortable and easy break in the journey but it’s certainly no friend to the budget conscious wine freak. A cold beer with some good hawker spice is pretty good though. This bottle seemed appropriate as I was preparing my ancient body for thirteen hours of flightmode and a delicious reward it was for running out of interesting in flight entertainment. From grand cru vineyards and made in perhaps the older way in big old oak. A new producer for me. A bit of petrol development already but loads of fresh white peach, citrus and honeyed candle wax. A breath of aldehyde to lift the end. Some lovely flavours were carried by a beautiful lightness of feathery acidity. A cool breeze of mouthwatering lift, delightful. Like a welcome tailwind to cut the hours high in the sky.
Being a bit of an architecture nerd as well as the wine sort, I do tend to notice the way older buildings made from the local stone seem to affect the mood of a city. Melbourne and its dark bluestone can make grey winter days a little sombre. Paris and its limestone, well. Madrid is a city of light grey granite and its best red wine comes from the same rocks in the surrounding mountains. Whether it’s the stark ground or the brisk altitude, or probably both, that produce such lightly mouthwatering wine, it’s certainly a very different expression compared to Aragon or Maclaren Vale. It’s an area only rediscovered in the last couple of decades and being so close to the capital seems to have attracted those interested in the natural with minimal intervention, for better or worse. I must admit to finding some versions just a bit too feral or variable from bottle to bottle. Comando G bottles have been particularly unpredictable, sometimes not in a good way. Finding this bottle in what at first glance was an uninspiring Madrid wine shop for €10, it looked worth a punt. On closer browsing, there were some good bottles amongst the utilitarian shelves and well priced beers. When I got back to our Madrid cupboard sized apartment, a closer look at the back label indicated a Comando G link, oh well. Indeed it did open with a little bit of that yeasty, slightly cidery, low sulphur, natty wine fug. A bit of reduction too. Happily oxygen worked its spell and a very bright red fruited wine emerged. Full of mouthwatering cherries, cooked strawberries, a touch of fennel, orange peel and a haze of sun warmed rocks. Great cut of fine acidity and tannin. The sort of perfume and refreshment that good Bourgogne rouge used to have before changes in its climate, both weather and financial. Still a bit close to the technical edge like some of those delicious old school Burgundies but we hit the bottom of the bottle pretty quickly.
14% alcohol. Diam I think? €10 which looks good considering the lottery of entry level Comando G is now over $70 in Australia now.
Suppose you could say it’s a pilgrimage for the lover of El Triangulo, the perfect geometry of Jerez de la Frontera, El Puerto de Santa María and Sanlúcar de Barremeda. Thanks again to the undertheflor blog which has been a great reference in finding the good stuff. Just wish it was more up to date. And speaking of time passing, it’s obvious that things don’t change too much as the clock ticks in the Taberna der Guerrita. The same groups of old mates still prop the bar with a copa or caña of cold beer, families come in up to three generations to drink and eat a little, the kids sitting amongst the feet on the bar step.
But there’s an incredible choice of Sherry drinks. The son of the business, Armando Guerra, has a job with the progressive Barbadillo dealing with their special bottlings and new projects. He’s a passionate advocate for the new focus on quality around the old triangle but in no way has forgotten what makes this bar tick. There’s a house Manzanilla en rama straight from the barrel for €1.50 and to eat there’s great local ingredients, seasonal and well cooked, no cheffy flourishes. Should you have some carefully saved cash to splurge on a special bottle, there’s a huge list right up to a Selosse fizz, well, it’s all about the yeast, no? To keep it interesting, there’s an ever changing biological de El Marco by the glass too. Happily, the place is a good fifteen minute walk from downtown Sanlúcar. Too far for the idle tourist but not the Sherry freak or the locals who know a great pub.
There’s always kind service with a smile or a crack if your Español is up to it.
Good things to eat, ready to plate and a short list of calientes.
About nine o’clock, the best tortilla in the world makes its appearance. Keep a beady eye on that bar.
Quietly convivial, raucous and fun sometimes, to find a table or a place at the bar, sip great wine and eat what’s local and fresh and time seems to melt. If hospitality is meant to come from deep pride in a job well done and satisfaction at seeing customers feel like friends, then this bar is worth your time. Spend some time and watch the happy ebb and flow. A great, great bar.
When it comes to El Marco it takes a while to unravel some of the complications of vineyard, method, product and just who’s really making the best wine. Thanks to The Spanish Acquisition from Melbourne introducing me to the irresistible force of Willy Perez and the undertheflor blog helping me recognise a Cota 45 bottle when it came up at auction, I’ve come to realise Willy Perez and Ramiro Ibañez are just about as good as it gets. Coming so far, I spent a fair amount of time trying to find a way to visit both the partners in the de la Riva collaboration. The only possible visit to Luis Perez for the punter seems to be the disappointing tourist option. Nice enough but the only Palomino you get to taste is the entry level El Muelle, the rest was their red wines which is fair enough as they did much to establish their iconoclastic presence in El Marco. Things have changed and maybe they should highlight the more recent brilliance in Palominos a bit more? The cellar tour frustratingly passed what’s probably an increasing number of old botas containing all those wonderful single pago Palominos. The reds are good and generous but they’re not what was so close but so far.
I however did get lucky wrangling a tasting at Bodegas Ramiro Ibañez. The Australian importer was tenacious in getting me in, sadly they went bust shortly afterwards which would have closed the door as Ramiro doesn’t do much in the way of self promotion apart from the infrequent Insta post. Finding the bodega in Sanlúcar involved a bit of head scratching. The sometimes errant emails from the importers didn’t help and got more difficult as they did indeed go of business soon after arranging the visit. What was Cota 45, Ramiro’s old name for his business, started in a small riverside bodega and at first glance is what comes up in searches. But no, there’s a spanking newly renovated bodega in Calle Palma, right up in the old town near Barbadillo. Google maps still shows it as a ruin which is a bit off putting when making sure you’re headed in the right direction. It even needed a tentative WhatsApp message on arrival just to make sure it was the right address. Finally the right place. The new bodega is thoughtfully renovated, no corporate bling but a tasteful reuse of the old with a bit of thought in the layout, beautifully maintained ancient botas and clean new gear. Travel being what it is these days, Ramiro was in Thailand. Nonetheless his right hand enologist in winemaking and a seriously clever thinker, Estefania made our visit one of the best. First a drive out to the great pago of Carrascal and its Las Vegas plot.
Old vines in great health, still green weeks after harvest. The Albariza here is Lentejuelas which is one of the more open structured and soaks up moisture. The ridges are built by horse and plough in autumn to help catch the Atlantic winter rains,
Old vines pruned in the old vara y pulgar way. Basically cane pruned with respect to the way the sap flows. Makes the most of the productive buds towards the end of the cane and mechanically minimises cutting and the chance of disease getting into the vine wood.
It’s a compelling site, three old clones of Palomino and a sea breezy view of the estuary and the pago of Miraflores. Estefania’s love and understanding of the place made it extra good. Such a wild place at the very liminal edge of Europe and the Atlantic, growing grapes like nowhere else. There’s a definite change in flavour ripeness from the vines close to the sea to those only a few kms away closer to Jerez. Linear and bright to round and savoury, perhaps but not really that simple.
Back to the bodega to taste. Four current releases from four pagos. No Carrascal this time and I forgot to ask if there’s a 2024. The Miraflores, both the blend and the Alta looked fresh, linear and saline in the best way. Paganilla from further inland on Barajuela and Tosca Cerrada Albarizas was wider, more petro chemical, in a good way and apples. Finally El Reventón is from a pago nearest the river on Tosca Cerrado, the tough one. Deep and round. Loads of estuary smells, what the locals call bajamar, low tide stinky. Apples, baked and nuts too. The richest and widest. If you want to see the real contrast in vineyard, Miraflores Alta and El Reventón are close in geography but so different in soil and flavour. Such good wine and all around 11 to 11.5% in alcohol but ripe and rich. All made the same, simple way. Picked, whole bunch pressed, pretty much free run only, fermented in old 500 litre botas and left under flor for just a few months. The results, stunning, elegant to use an overused word but appropriate here, precise and clean.
Those precious old botas.
The microcosmic world of the velo de flor. Higher fill levels here than normal Fino or Mazanilla. Ramiro and Estefania maintain the fruit from Sanlúcar contain distinct compounds to Jerez and feed the flor in a different way, different flavours. Finally a taste from tank and bota of the new season sweeties. A PX from Sanlúcar and a Moscatel. Again transparent and no cloying.
Very happy and now more informed taster. Able to go on a length about El Marco well beyond the bored to sobs stage.
Viva El Marco and its warm, generous people. There’s a forthcoming post concerning the best bar in the world.
Cognitive Bottle Therapy 