A wonderful surprise. Light golden colour. Lovely nose of honey, toast and citrus. Silky palate with depth and richness. Long, every element in balance. At its peak now, this is a world-class wine.
Cork. 11.5% - 92/100

For those who have been around the wine blog-o-sphere for a few years, the Caveman's blog was a gem.  Bill Z. offered world class wine knowledge with a down-to-earth attitude.  Like many blogs (this one included) the Caveman posted less regularly, and then poof!  it became frozen in time (kind of like Han Solo in Empire). 

Well, my pal Bill, the Caveman, is back and writing for the Montreal Gazette.  It's good to see his voice is being appreciated by those lucky folks in Quebec.

"It was my first evening back working the floor as a sommelier. I was invigorated after an exceptional week touring and tasting wine in France's Languedoc-Roussillon.
My second table that night was a couple from France, so I started going on and on about the place, even recommending to them one of my favourite wines from the region. They looked at me and said, "Yes, it's beautiful there, but we would never drink their wines."

Read the rest of the column here.

Good on ya Bill!

This wine was in a flight of 2004s from DRC at the Mornington Peninsula International Pinot Noir Celebration. I wrote about the Echezeaux 10 days ago and someone pointed me to an article on DRC in the Dec/Jan 07 Gourmet Traveller Wine, which gives some indicative pricing. This wine has not been officially released but I may take out a loan to get a bottle or 2 for a benchmark tasting of the future. DRC is not the sort of stuff your average serious pinotfile buys all the time. In fact the Chardonnay Princess reminds me how many lovely Chardonnays I could buy for a single bottle of DRC. But that is why I want to write about it so the Winorama readers can share this very fortunate experience. The nose was very clean, showing pure fruit, mainly of the cherry tree type. The palate was rich with silky sweet red cherry as well that seemed to flow on and on with just a little crescendo of plum on the finish. Over the hour I managed to keep my meagre portion in the glass it revealed some dark cherry and plum. The classic iron fist in a silk glove fruit power and texture combination.

I can remember a time when the word "Alsace" only brought to mind dim memories of my 5th grade class discussion on some valley that people were fighting about in one of those big wars. In those days I definitely couldn't spell Gewurztraminer, and I had only tried one or two of them.

Perhaps you'd call me a late bloomer when it came to Alsatian wine, but bloom I eventually did, and now I'm a quiet, but fierce devotee of what I believe to be some of the most individualistic wines on the planet. Alsace has always been an odd duck of a winegrowing region. It is the only region in France that not only allows, but mandates that the name of the grape variety appear on the label (though there are exceptions). It happens to grow grapes more associated with Germany and Northern Italy than with the rest of France (Riesling, Gewurztraminer, and Pinot Gris), and perhaps by virtue of its occasionally Germanic past, produces more beer than any other winegrowing region in the country.

Characterized by steep hillside vineyards whose sun exposure, coupled with the region's cooler climate make for long slow grape maturation, Alsace has been worked by small village winemakers for centuries (major regional wars notwithstanding). There are thousands of producers in the region, though according to the Oxford Companion to Wine, about 175 of those producers make up nearly 80 percent of the regions production. Many of those 175 are still relatively small by French standards, but some, due to their tenure as well as success have grown to be significant producers that make enough wine for export all over the globe.

Trimbach (or more properly, Maison Trimbach) is perhaps one of the best known of these larger producers, and for good reason. The Trimbach family has been making wine under their name since progenitor Jean Trimbach founded the house label in 1636. Twelve generations later, the estate is still run by the family, and is synonymous with the region, producing what some consider to be the finest wines around.

For the first two hundred or so years, Trimbach wines were made, like many in the region, in relative obscurity. Produced and consumed all within a 25 mile radius, the wines were part of the fabric of village life. Around the turn of the 20th Century, however, the then proprietor Frederic Emile Trimbach submitted the family's wines to be shown at the 1897 Brussels Exposition, where they were apparently greeted with significant acclaim.

Now, nearly 120 years after that initial success, Trimbach is known for producing two of the region's finest wines -- both Rieslings. One is bottled under the name Clos St. Hune, and comes from the Grand Cru Rosacker vineyard, and is widely regarded as the region's best Riesling. The other is this wine, named after the enterprising Frederic Emile, whose marketing skills launched more than a century of prominence for his family winery. In addition to these top wines, Trimbach makes 13 other wines, in quantities ranging from a couple thousand cases to the tens of thousands.

Cuvee Frederic Emile is made mostly from grapes grown on a south-southeast facing hillside vineyard named Osterberg above the winery. The limestone rich soil of this Grand Cru vineyard drains quickly and deep, and the grapevines are, on average, 30 years old. The grapes are picked with painstaking deliberation into small shoulder baskets over a series of days, with the goal of selecting only fully ripe clusters of grapes. These clusters are destemmed and assiduously sorted, again to ensure only the choicest grapes are crushed and fermented, ever so slowly, with native yeasts.

I'm not sure about the total production of this wine. The Clos St. Hune is less than 600 cases, but I suspect Cuvee Frederic Emile is made in slightly larger quantities. Were it more plentiful, however, it might be more common to find beautiful aged bottles like this one that some good friends shared with me last month. Trimbach's wines, especially their top cuvees, seem to age forever, and as they do, their personalities begin to truly shine.

Every time I enjoy Rieslings from the Old World like this one, I realize that I don't drink enough Riesling. Every time I enjoy such a beautiful Alsatian wine, I am reminded that I definitely don't drink enough of Alsace.

Tasting Notes:
Pale gold in the glass, this wine has a shockingly bright nose of quince and honey that begs to be inhaled slowly, as if that were physically possible. On the tongue it is halogen bright, with gorgeous acidity that brings to life a swath of flavors ranging from fresh lemon juice and honey to paraffin and nut skin. The wine lasts forever in the mouth, lingering through its drawn out finish on vapors of pomelo and orange zest. A fantastic, distinctive wine.

Food Pairing:
Whatever you eat with this wine, make sure it's damn good. I drank this on my birthday last month and enjoyed it with many things, but especially with a light cooked shellfish salad of crab, squid, octopus, and clams in an "ocean vinaigrette" with seasoned sesame.

Overall Score: between 9.5 and 10

How Much?: roughly $110 - $190 these days. Current releases (2003) go for $35.

This vintage of the wine can occasionally be found on the internet. Current releases can be purchased here.

Virtues and Necessities
by Martin Field

Wine is all about the senses. About sensory evaluation, sensuality and consensual enjoyment. And wouldn't it be awful to lose your sense of taste, of smell, of touch, of sight?

It happens. Years ago, a wine-loving colleague went through a devastating course of chemotherapy to treat cancer and was cured. Afterwards he told me he had permanently lost his taste for wine. He sold his not inconsiderable cellar soon afterwards. Another friend had an operation on his nose that left him without a sense of smell. He'll drink a glass of wine with dinner but admits to being indifferent to its finer points.

I was reminded of this aspect of wine and the senses recently while listening to a wine expert banging on about the unimportance of colour in wine. If I heard him correctly, his thesis was that if the wine smelt and tasted good you shouldn't worry too much about its colour.

I couldn't disagree more. I love the colour of wine in the morning, or the evening. The crystal clear, green-hued glisten of a young riesling; the black cherry colour of a young shiraz; the vibrant inky purple of a Coonawarra cabern? [enough already! - Ed.] The visual appeal of wine in the glass is to me an unmissable part of wine drinking.

The banging on wine person finally admitted to being colour blind! They used to call this attitude making a virtue of a necessity.

And talking of sensory evaluation
Long due for reassessment is the ancient scoring system used at most Australian wine shows. The one where wines are scored out of 20 - with a possible three points (15%) awarded for appearance, seven (35%) for bouquet and ten (50%) for palate. Anyone who's ever had a cold will tell you that smell is probably the most important sensory sensation where wine is concerned. When people have colds they typically complain, ?I can't taste a thing.' What they really mean is, ?I can't smell a thing.' It's their noses that are blocked up - not their mouths.

I realise that many judges just award an intuitive score out of 20 rather than individually scoring each component and then adding up the total. Nevertheless, I'd re-jig the weighting thus: three points (15%) for appearance, nine (45%) for bouquet, five (25%) for palate and three (15%) for overall finesse and balance. Whether the scoring system is out of 20 or 100, or whatever, the percentage weighting would remain the same.

The health benefits of the odd glass of red wine are well known but The Telegraph has an extensive article on the benefits of ‘wine therapy’ and the best spas to visit for the likes of Merlot wraps, Cabernet scrubs and other vinotherapy pleasures.

 Now that certainly would be a different kind of wine experience to write about on Bottletalk.

A small clarification about how I view value wines though. Obviously, the MAN Shiraz is no Crozes-Hermitages, but that simply isn?t the objective with a value selection recommendation. It doesn?t make it better than say, a Northern Rhône Syrah that usually sells for more. Value selections like this one are unusually interesting for the price point. That shortsighted all-or-nothing approach people have the tendency to apply to so many things in life seems absurdly inappropriate even with wine. I thought about that today when I read the latest post over at The Pour, which somewhat deals with a new book on wine reminiscent of that 20/20 segment from 2005 which relegates the value of art and art criticism (good parallel with wine) to that of upper-brow contempt for the masses. How many certifiable idiots have you overheard in a hotel lobby asking trite questions that more or less resemble ?which one?s the best, Flemish art or Florentine art? The inanity of an exchange like this swiftly reveals the poverty of knowledge, or perhaps more crucial to the matter, lack of genuine appreciation which the participants must have for art.

As someone who seriously studies literature and has a couple of degrees to back that up, I have always cringed at those book club type questions where two writers from completely different perspectives and time periods are given the old CNN Crossfire treatment, ?George Sand or Danielle Steele?? On a whole, more people would likely prefer Steele, who no doubt is an accomplished writer; her work could thus be considered better, right? No, no and no. As with artists or writers, let?s please leave wine out of that sort of thing.

At any rate, this Coastal Region Shiraz is all about straightforward flavors and food-accompanying functionality. I thought it a bit complex for the price point, with nice plum, berry, spice and smoke. Balance wasn?t too far off, with medium acidity, high body, medium-high tannin and solid fruit which stood up to the vegetal and spice flavors for three days after opening. An added bonus, considering most sub-$10 reds, was that the oak presence was never overwhelming. I?ll certainly consider the MAN Syrah and Pinotage again when looking for value-priced accompaniments to grilled meats and those ostrich burgers I have come to enjoy recently.