2 + 2 = 5
What is the difference between a good wine and a great wine?
I've been going over this quite a lot in my head recently. What is the elusive element that makes one wine very good, and another wine great? I don't know the answer to my question, but I sort of know why...
Take two wines. I was in France last week visiting Bordeaux for the en-primeurs, and on the way home dropped in at some friends in the Languedoc. We talked about me helping them with a website, and I left happily loaded up with their wines. Now, in 2002, they started working with a brilliant Italian consultant called Stefano Chioccioli - but that doesn't take away from the fact that in general, 2002 was a lousy year in southern Europe.
So, this week, I've tasted a few of their wines. Take Las Vals, a lovely Mediterranean blend of Mourvedre and Syrah. First up, the 2000. Probably at it's peak for drinking right now - mature, rounded tannins, oak nicely integrated, but only good to very good in my book. (And 2000 was a very good vintage). Now, in 2002, they cropped less, macerated differently, were more selective, and paid greater attention to a myriad of details during the winemaking pocess. But it was still a lousy year.
Nonetheless, the 2002 is a great wine. More dimension, more nuances, more clearly defined fruit, more clarity in general, immensely rich and opulent but fresh and vibrant at the same time. But what makes it great?
Greatness is when a wine ends up being more than the sum of its parts.
By the way the producers are called domaine Lignères, and in about six weeks there should be a pretty good website telling their story at www.ligneres.com.
I've been going over this quite a lot in my head recently. What is the elusive element that makes one wine very good, and another wine great? I don't know the answer to my question, but I sort of know why...
Take two wines. I was in France last week visiting Bordeaux for the en-primeurs, and on the way home dropped in at some friends in the Languedoc. We talked about me helping them with a website, and I left happily loaded up with their wines. Now, in 2002, they started working with a brilliant Italian consultant called Stefano Chioccioli - but that doesn't take away from the fact that in general, 2002 was a lousy year in southern Europe.
So, this week, I've tasted a few of their wines. Take Las Vals, a lovely Mediterranean blend of Mourvedre and Syrah. First up, the 2000. Probably at it's peak for drinking right now - mature, rounded tannins, oak nicely integrated, but only good to very good in my book. (And 2000 was a very good vintage). Now, in 2002, they cropped less, macerated differently, were more selective, and paid greater attention to a myriad of details during the winemaking pocess. But it was still a lousy year.
Nonetheless, the 2002 is a great wine. More dimension, more nuances, more clearly defined fruit, more clarity in general, immensely rich and opulent but fresh and vibrant at the same time. But what makes it great?
Greatness is when a wine ends up being more than the sum of its parts.
By the way the producers are called domaine Lignères, and in about six weeks there should be a pretty good website telling their story at www.ligneres.com.
