The first glaring difference that made this time unique to that tasting long ago, was that I finally know the others in the group. I can still remember walking into that first tasting, and feeling that I was 10 years too young and 10 shades too green to take part in this very classy affair. Almost all the other participants were (and are) wine producers in the valley, and I felt like like the impostor/oddity who didn't deserve to sit at this "insiders'" table. This time around, however, the intimidation factor was gone and people were no longer their brands, but themselves. While I accept that I am much younger and more ignorant in the typical "wine-schooling" way, I felt at home with my Valley neighbors, (many of whom are my friends parents.)
The second positive alteration arose from the tastings' location, which, conveniently, was Highlands Road Estate. While there was clearly the home-y factor and the home-court advantage, our farm also created an indisputably relaxed vibe that cut through the normal snobbery of the event. Mary did a serve-your-own dinner with delicious olive/caper/prune chicken and cous cous followed by a cheese platter, all of which lent the feeling of a casual french garden supper, (thank you Mathé,) tasty and elegant, but without any great fuss.
The third unique aspect, and probably the most important, was the way the tasting itself was run. Unlike before, where at the end of each flight everyone had to go around the table and rate the wine from 1-2o, (from which a spreadsheet was made analyzing the overall numeric averages to determine the "best" wines from the tasting,) this time around, the guy presenting simply asked to raise your hand to vote for whichever wine was your favorite. In my mind this is an infinitely better system. The only wines that matter are the ones you love, and there is just no need to assign arbitrary numbers to mediocrity just to show that you can differentiate between a 13 1/2 and 15.2 wine, (which, of course, in reality, you can't.)
This tasting also just proved that any dumb plebian can get lucky and become a "wino" for the night; after all, when the stars align... anything is possible... The fun challenge of the first flight was to match each of the five wines with the 5 main wine regions of France: Alsace, Loire, the South, Burgundy and Bordeaux. Pretty confident that I had NO idea which wine came from where, I decided, hell, I might as well just go for it. Knowledge be damned, by pure chance, when the regions were revealed, I had managed to slot all five correctly. Given my admitted geographical/direction incompetence and my true ignorance with French wines, this just goes to show how trivial this "wine knowledge" can be; if I could get it right, then ANYONE could. I think the trick was, quite simply, that I didn't care. I knew I was doomed, didn't really care what anyone else thought, and committed to simply enjoying the wine, not tasting for an answer. If I smelled something like Eucalyptus or a fresh bread roll, fine. I wasn't trying to prove that "x" or "y" existed in the wine, I was just coming up with personal associations so that I could come back to wines, differentiate between them, and, ultimately, find my favorite. From now on that is how I will do every tasting-- for myself and myself alone.
On this note, it was a pleasure to be able to sip on such fantastic wines, and I was able to find some real favorites. Normally shy of French wines, (as a usual proponent of the "new world" style,) this was a really unique opportunity for me to sample the variety that France has to offer. From the Alsace riesling to the Loire Chenin,
(which was from Vouvray, a wine region I visited with Mathé and Gérald,) there was so much more than the big oakey chardonnays that I have come to expect from France. Throughout the wines, there
was a funkiness that came through, one that you simply don't get in the new world wines. The noses on these things were amazing-- anywhere from a sort of metal or charcoal to a mint or nettle. You kept feeling like you were either in a workshop or a barnyard, and yet, you wanted to be there. These strange noses somehow seemed exciting and natural, and, surprisingly, weren't incongruent when it came down to the tasting. My favorites were the 07 Huet Vouvray Le Mont Sec and the Chateau 06 Olivier Sauv Blanc (Bourdeaux,) not that I will be able to remember those long-name toungue-twisters down the line. It turns out that I really disliked the Burgundy Chardonnay in this line up and the Southern France Grenache Blanc, both too heavy and weighty for me.
Building off the Burgundian Chard from this regional flight, the second flight dove into one region to provide 5 examples of Burgundian "excellence." Since I've never been a chardonnay fan, and I really disliked the Burgundian chardonnay from the first flight, I was pretty confident that I might was well chunk out all of these next wines. How wrong I was! Turns out that the two Burgundian wines that finished off the tasting were probably two of my favorite whites that I have ever tasted. Once again to prove how much crock normally enters into these overly self-aware and self-concious tastings, right after the second flight had been poured, one of my neighbors exclaimed loudly, "number two is the best, undoubtedly the flagship of the group." Though no one outwardly responded, it was clear that everyone had heard his authoritative comment and was making a note to themselves that in case of uncertainty, go for #2 as a sure bet of quality. The poor young Aussie sitting next to me, who has just arrived in Elgin, was pointedly asked only a minute later, by the self-same man, which was his favorite wine of the four. Not surprisingly, the poor boy responded that #2 was far and away the best, what else could he do? Then, as an extension of this little interaction, when the tasting concluded and a show of hands was requested to show personal favorites, over 70% of the people voted for #2. Turns out it was my 3rd choice wine of the group, so I and one other voted for the wine #4. Nothing wrong with the consensus, and it is possible that everyone truly thought #2 was the best, (it was made in a more new-world style which would be the most familiar to everyone present,) but does make you wonder how much of it is just trying to vote for the "right one."
Surprisingly, my favorites of this grouping were by far the most old-world of the lot. I always thought that I liked the new world styles, but these wines had a funk to them that was simply amazing-- I've never tasted anything like these. Probably my favorite was Jayer Gilles, which comes from a random part of Burgundy. Nestled in the hills above, these vines are separated from mainstream Burgundy by a huge forest. This specific location is a lot cooler than the rest of Burgundy below, a fact which allowed the wine maker to do a blend instead of a straight Chard, (a reason I probably liked it a lot better.) But I'm telling you, this wine was something else, with one of the most interesting noses I have ever found on a wine. My other favorite, and more of the archetypal Burgundian Chardonnay, was the Lequin-Colin Charlemagne Grand Cru. I hate it when I have expensive taste, (I much prefer it when my preferences correspond with a camper's pocketbook,) but in this case it was unavoidable.
Grand Crus are always a pain in the pocketbook and this one was no different, coming in at around R900 a bottle. Still, to be perfectly honest, for what you're getting in this, it had more personality, verve and lingering potential than any Napa wine I've tried at the same price (which certainly isn't a lot but...) While a lot found this wine too young and not yet "integrated" I thought it was fantastic-- so, so unique and what it lacked in "integration" or "balance" it more than made up for with a singular spunk that, one day, could turn into a most incredibly unique and perfect wine for all those stuck on structure. Sometimes I like a little fault in my wine, I look for the subtly weird, different, and unusual, and this wine had it all for me.
So what is my overall take-away from the tasting? I need to get myself over to France and give this place another try, and I really really like prune/caper/olive chicken. Yum...
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