By Joseph Temple

It looks like one man’s Madeira is now America’s liquid treasure!

While going through a six-month renovation project, Liberty Hall, a National Historic Landmark located on the campus of Kean University garnered headlines this week as it became the site of a great archaeological discovery. Originally built in the 1770s for Thomas Livingston, one of the founding fathers and New Jersey’s first governor, many important Americans have stayed there, including George Washington, Alexander Hamilton, and John Adams. But in addition to all its famous residents and guests, Liberty Hall can now add to its rich history by having the distinction of housing the oldest collection of Madeira in the United States.

After dismantling a wall inside the wine cellar constructed during the Prohibition era, architects uncovered 50 bottles and 42 demijohns of rare fortified wine that is almost as old as the country itself. With some Madeira bottles dating back to 1796, Bill Schroh, a director at the Liberty Hall Museum, told ABC News that “we never could have imagined finding what we did.” According to their research, the bottles were imported by Robert Lenox, a major player in the New York city wine trade and the estimated value of each bottle could be in the neighborhood of $20,000. Tracing back the origins of their purchase, it is believed that they were imported in order to celebrate the inauguration of John Adams, America’s second president.

Considering that Madeira is no longer a fashionable drink in America, at first glance, it might seem like a strange choice. But during the revolutionary era, having a glass of this fortified Portuguese wine embodied the spirit of the Gadsden flag and its iconic message: DONT TREAD ON ME. Since the archipelago of Madeira was technically in Africa, its wines weren’t subject to harsh taxation like other European imports nor were they required to sail on British ships, making Madeira a symbol of what taxation with representation might look like. Historian John Hailman writes, “By the late eighteenth century it was considered patriotic to drink Madeira and thereby avoid taxes to the Crown, and Madeira thus became the veritable mother’s milk of the American Revolution.”

An added bonus was that unlike Bordeaux or Burgundy, Madeira was virtually indestructible. In fact, seamen quickly discovered that the intense heat and humidity on board the ships transporting it to the thirteen colonies actually made the wine improve—a fact that made it wildly popular in the South. So during the Revolutionary War and following America’s independence, Madeira was consumed by many future presidents, including George Washington and Thomas Jefferson.

Of course, John Adams was no exception. Back in 1768, when John Hancock tried to smuggle a cargo of Madeira into the Boston Harbor and was intercepted and charged by the British, he was represented by none other than the future commander-in-chief. Growing fond of this particular drink, which he enjoyed quite regularly, he once said that “a few glasses of Madeira made anyone feel capable of being president.”

And by ordering Madeira to celebrate his election victory, the people at Liberty Hall couldn’t have purchased a more symbolic wine—the wine of the revolution!

Sources:

Dubourcq, Hilaire. Benjamin Franklin Book of Recipes. London: Fly Fizzi Publishing, 2004.
Hailman, John R. Thomas Jefferson on Wine. Jackson: University Press of Mississippi, 2009.

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Question: I often hear about wine being aged in an oak cask or barrique. Is there a difference in these terms?

Answer: Yes there is a difference. Barrique should only be used to describe a unique barrel shape of a specific size of 225 litres (59 gallons) long used in Bordeaux and now other wine producing regions. Other shapes and sizes have different names from hogshead (300 litres in USA) to Burgundy piece (230 litres) to the larger sizes used traditionally in Piedmont for nebbiolo grapes and becoming increasingly more popular everywhere. These can all be called casks but shouldn’t be called barriques.

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By Joseph Temple

Ever since 1982 when Robert Parker enthusiastically described that year’s Bordeaux vintage as one that is “destined to be some of the greatest wines produced in this century,” the concept of wine as a lucrative financial investment continues to grow. Twenty-five years after Parker’s prophecy, one case of Château Latour has increased in value by a staggering 8,000 percent, making wine, according to CNBC, the single best collectible investment—even better than classic cars! Putting another exclamation mark on that statement, The Telegraph recently published a list of ten bottles that have given buyers a ROI of 150% and more in just five years.

With such a powerful bull market occurring before our very eyes, it makes you wonder how some wines went from mere alcoholic beverages to highly sought-after items of luxury?

To answer that question, you need to go back centuries, long before Robert Parker and even the 1855 Bordeaux classification. During the reign of Elizabeth I in the late 16^th century, it’s safe to say that the English loved their wine, consuming approximately 40 million bottles annually at a time when the entire population was a little over 6 million. However, their interest had nothing to do with terroir or tannins; what attracted Britain was the idea of wine as an antiseptic. With contaminated water being a fact of life back then, many thought that the best way to relieve sickness was through the consumption of wine.

And back then, the wines of Bordeaux didn’t arrive in bottles with labels listing the sub-region or vintage. Simply labeled ‘Claret,’ there was no mention of the estate, making the casks that arrived on English soil as generic as possible. According to some historians, what most people drank was a light red made from white and red grapes (think Rosé) that arrived in either the late fall or early winter and needed to be finished by late summer at the latest. After that, the wine quickly turned into vinegar.

This all changed forever with the arrival of Arnaud de Pontac. Purchasing Haut-Brion in 1649, the Premier President of the Parlement of Bordeaux embarked on a revolutionary approach to both winemaking and wine marketing. Realizing that the most important market by the mid-17^th century for Bordeaux was in London, he actively sought out the wealthy with an entirely new way of looking at wine. Dating back to when Edward II ordered the equivalent of a million bottles to celebrate his marriage to Isabella of France, the idea of wine as a luxury item was something that quickly caught on, especially during the Restoration.

What separated Pontac and Haut-Brion from the competition were concepts that are still in place to this day. By limiting the crop, rejecting unripe grapes, and allowing for a slow fermentation process, his focus of quality over quantity made his product superior in the eyes of the English elite. According to one historian, “Pontac carefully produced and named a wine that came from a small, circumscribed area of land in order to enhance its value on the palates and in the minds of English customers.” This can be seen in the cellar book of King Charles II who purchased 169 bottles of “Hobriono” in 1660. All of a sudden, the brand became more important than the wine.

Another advantage was that Pontac sent his son across the Channel to open up “Pontack’s Head”– a popular tavern where customers could buy Haut Brion directly. Needless to say, the other Bordeaux winemakers took note of Pontac’s brilliant marketing strategy and quickly followed suit. By the time of Queen Anne, luxury claret had arrived in a big way amongst royalty and wealthy English landowners. The whole idea of “the Château” took off as impressive buildings were built throughout the region in order to impress potential clients. Prestige and quality become the guiding principles for the Bordelais, etched in stone with the now famous 1855 classification.

So the next time you wonder why certain bottles are fetching record sums, you can thank Arnaud de Pontac and Château Haut-Brion for creating the first brand name wine of the modern era.

Sources:

Clarke, Oz. The History of Wine in 100 Bottles: From Bacchus to Bordeaux and Beyond. London: Pavilion Books, 2015.
Estreicher, Stefan K. Wine: From Neolithic Times to the 21st Century. New York: Algora Publishing, 2006.
Ludington, Charles. The Politics of Wine in Britain: A New Cultural History. New York: Springer Publishing, 2016.
Sander, Merton. Wine: A Scientific Exploration. Boca Raton: CRC Publishing, 2003.

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Question: I am travelling to St. Petersburg on a cruise for a holiday this summer. What Russian wines to you recommend we should look for to taste while dining there?

Answer: Very topical question for me as I was just there this year too. Visited the wine cellars in the beautiful Constantine Palace in Strelna with their vast collection. Also had a wine tasting there with some tired white blends from 2012 of 50% Riesling & 50% Chardonnay, West Hill Blend limited production 2012 reds from the Black Sea coast of 50% Merlot & 50% Cabernet Sauvignon with some sweetish smokey spicy notes, and older Tokay from Hungary. The best Russian wines we found in restaurants in St. Petersburg were all from the Krasnodar southernmost region bordering the Ukraine to the west at about 45 degrees latitude. My favourite was Temelion Brut sparkling by Lefkadia a blend of chardonnay & pinot noir displaying drier refreshing citrus lemon flavours. Also served some simpler 2016 varietal Sauvignon Blanc & 2015 oaky Chardonnay. A unique almost Syrah-like red from the native vitis vinifera grape Saperavi 2015 called Fanagoria Vintage is worth investigating. Believe there are some of this variety also being grown in the Finger Lakes of New York state. This acidic grape variety native to Georgia though with thin skins produced an intense deep red colour wine with some interest. Check it out.

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By Joseph Temple

It’s no secret that the French view their wine as sacrosanct. From Bordeaux and Burgundy to Champagne and Côtes du Rhone, the soil that has given us some of the finest vintages is deeply embedded in the culture of every citizen across the Fifth Republic. And when it comes to bubbly, the vineyards of Champagne are held in the highest regards, having survived numerous invasions and wars over the past two millennia.

So when someone erroneously asks for or praises a glass of “American Champagne” or “Italian Champagne,” you can see why both French winemakers and citizens would get upset. Fighting back against this mislabeling, the government of France has applied diplomatic pressure for centuries to stop the use of this word unless the sparkling wine is specifically made in the region of Champagne. As one famous example illustrates, the French delegation led by Prime Minister Georges Clemenceau successfully protected the Champenois during the 1919 Paris Peace Conference with Article 275, which stated that “the importation, exportation, manufacture, distribution, sale or offering for sale of products or articles bearing regional appellations inconsistent with such law or order shall be prohibited.”

But nearly a century later, the Champagne label is still being misused and abused. To understand the loopholes and clever tricks that have been employed for hundreds of years, have a look below to see how you can say “Champagne” without saying Champagne.

Although the United States signed the Treaty of Versailles, the Senate never ratified it, making America null and void from Article 275, which has led to many “American Champagnes” over the years. However, in 2005 the U.S. And European Union finally agreed that labels like this one would no longer be tolerated—with an important catch. If any winemaker used this term before March 10th, 2006, they would be grandfathered in, a decision that caused Korbel Natural Special Inaugural Cuvée California Champagne to be served at Barack Obama’s second inauguration in 2013.
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In addition to false labelling, the Pleasant Valley Wine Company took it one step further in the nineteenth century when they lobbied the federal government to change the name of their hamlet. So when people saw Great Western Champagne as being from Rheims, it’s because the wine was actually made in Rheims—New York!
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3. Deny its Champagne … over and over again.

If you’re a WWII veteran who fought during the Italian campaign, then you probably developed a taste for a sweet sparkling wine known as Asti Spumante. Unfortunately, its reputation has taken a nosedive in the years following the Second World War, with many producers dropping the name Spumante due to its negative perception for being a cheap wine. But here’s a great way to piggyback off of Champagne using a rhetorical device: a 1977 commercial where the viewer is told that it’s not Champagne—it’s Asti Spumante. Rinse and repeat.

HONORABLE MENTION: Champagne, Champale. Hey, they both rhyme.

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