Envínate, Castilla-La Mancha, Albahra, 2020
A red so lithe and so balanced, the greatest fatigue is uncorking the bottle. This is a blend of Garnacha Tintorera (better known as Alicante Bouschet) and the obscure, indigenous grape Moravia Agria from a single vineyard at 800 meters elevation in the Almansa region, at the southeastern tip of Castilla-La Mancha. Like the 2018, the first vintage I drank, the fruit is joyously red, a little smoky, a little floral. It's an almost maddeningly moreish wine. (Dec. 6, 2022)
Domaine de la Butte, Bourgueil, Le Pied de la Butte, 2020
An unoaked Cabernet Franc from the lower parts of Bourgueil, this is an easy drinking red from Jacky Blot's Bourgueil domaine. It captures the essence of Loire Cabernets, red fruit with a touch of earth and distinctive lead pencil character: the smell of a freshly sharpened pencils, the pleasantly sweet metallic taste of chewing on one. Not a great wine, no surprise given its origins, but very moreish, vivid and typical. (Dec. 10, 2020)
La Rioja Alta, Viña Alberdi, Rioja Reserva, 2018
This dependable Rioja Alta warhorse was the only red wine produced in 2018, out of all their various labels, so grapes normally destined for the 904 and even the 894 were included. Reviews called it an elegant wine, and it probably is, once air and time carry you past the coconut and vanilla. Beneath that, I sense a fruit forward wine, mostly black cherries, although thankfully it's not too generous with the fruit, nor with the graphite, with enough nuances and shadings to endow it with fair complexity. (Dec. 11, 2022)
Castello di Verduno, Barolo, 2018
The nose is a sleek kiss of love from the Piedmont paradise: sweet spices, cherry tea and rose petals, a touch of green leaves. The acidity, even in a problematic vintage, is excellent, but initially, the body feels light and the finish short. Well, the body fills out a bit, as does the finish, and the palate gains texture and complexity with air. The nose fills out as well. Despite improvements, it’s hardly a surprise that there are no signs of greatness here, but it’s a fine wine fogiven the inherent limitations of the vintage and relatively low end terroir. (Dec. 13, 2022)
Domaine Mee Godard, Morgon, Corcelette, 2020
Still in a very primary phase, black raspberries adorned with pepper and cinnamon. An hour of air and it starts to show the meaty funk I loved in Foillard’s Corcelette, only much more hygienic. The important point is the hygiene doesn't castrate it but rather serves to highlight the fruit and its Morgonicity. Even on the second ay, it still feels one-dimensional, though. I will definitely need to keep my bottle of the higher-tier Côte du Py for at least four years. (Dec. 14, 2023)
Domaine de Bellevue (Jérôme Bretaudeau), Muscadet, Gaia, 2019
I chalked up a lackluster showing last month to poor stemware. In a Riedel Riesling Wings glass, the wine's breed and lovely mineral nuances shine through. I think the reason for the poor showing is this: Muscadet thrives on a balance between lime and melons and the mineral pungency and twang of chalk and oyster shells. The usual texture of this blend is usually coarsely grained, which is okay, it's still a charming, delicious drop. But this wine is intentionally made of more delicate fabric, thus requiring greater attention and a better glass. Or, you can be really sharp and give it a couple hours and then you’ll get nuances, a more pronounced presence, a longer, more powerful finish. (Dec. 15, 2022)
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