For many decades this scribe has been an enthusiastic fan of German Pradikat wines. I appreciate that it only describes the natural sugar content of the harvested grapes but those Kabinett (lighter & off-dry), Spatlese (slightly sweeter with more depth) and Auslese (richer almost dessert itself) wines are nearly always delightful drinking with good acidity balance. More recently Trocken (less than 9 grams of residual sugar) and Halbtrocken (off-dry with 9-18 grams) are becoming the wines of choice. I recall my visits in the eighties to Schloss Johannisberg near Geisenheim and questioning the winemaker why they would “waste” quality auslese grapes on a trocken wine. I posed “Why not drink more Loire dry whites”? The answer was that because the German consumer increasingly wanted their best local grapes made into a top quality drier style wine to be served with food. What a reality that has become!
Early on I found some trocken wines just a bit too sour, astringent and dominated by acidity lacking in enough fruit for my palate. Maybe my bias was showing. Today they certainly are much improved across the board with key specific sites and physiological ripeness ensuring higher quality in the resulting wines. This was driven home to me last week with a old favourite course for dinner of fresh Dungeness crab. Often my chosen wine pairing is an aged Chablis Grand Cru or Premier Cru or Meursault Perrieres both of which work so well. This time for a Tuesday night thought why not try a simpler 2007 Riesling Trocken from Fritz Haag. What a revelation! Remember back when this top producer at Brauneberg in the Mosel sold basic dry Riesling in litre size bottles. Now they clearly are recognized as an outstanding Riesling producer. This 2007 wine in screw cap was so expressive of apple, peach and minerals. Appropriately dry but not Chablis-like instead showing a little sweetness of ripe fruit that complemented those same flavours in that delicious crab. An amazing ethereal match.
I am finally converted to a greater appreciation of top German Riesling trocken wines with some food dishes. Have you found one you really like?
“Wines are generally known because they come from one special place, one appellation,” says Bollinger’s Ghislain de Montgolfier. “Champagne is known by the brand and the name of the owner. We transformed appellations into brands.”
This thought-provoking statement provides an excellent starting point for David Kennard’s 2014 film A Year In Champagne. Following the success of his previous documentary, A Year In Burgundy, Kennard heads north to a place where the wine is synonymous with wealth and prosperity. Interviewing six local winemakers over the course of 365 days, viewers are given a rare backstage pass to the 2012 harvest, seeing the trials and tribulations of a region that as one interviewee states, “understood very early how to connect to the spirit of celebration.”
It is ironic considering the images we see throughout the movie. In comparison to Bordeaux and Burgundy, which receive a decent amount of sunshine; Champagne—the most northerly wine growing region in continental Europe—appears to be cold and dreary. Torrential downpours can turn vineyards into mud baths while insects, rot and mildew represent a constant problem for the Champenois. With this sort of weather, it’s really no surprise that non-vintage champagne dominates the marketplace. “Our climate is right at the edge of what’s possible for winemaking,” declares Jean Pierre Palizon of the Corporation of Champagne Wine Makers.
Due to these conditions, the various houses are subject to rules—lots of rules. From pruning to cellaring, Champagne is governed by a rigid set of guidelines. Seeing row after row of vines that look almost identical, the film’s narrator jokingly describes them as “soldiers on parade.” Of course, failure to comply with this strict uniformity can result in the vineyard’s appellation status being taken away, leaving the vintner unable to sell his product. There is a zero tolerance policy on creativity or individuality here; a clear contrast to the jubilation we like to experience while sipping on millions of tiny little bubbles.
The region’s war-torn past also provides juxtaposition to the joy and happiness we often associate with champagne. Using black and white footage of the First World War along with some impressive shots of the Navarin Ossuary Monument, a pyramid-shaped structure containing the remains of 10,000 unknown soldiers, we learn how some of the bloodiest battles in history have been fought here. Since the time of Attila the Hun, Champagne has certainly seen its fair share of invading armies, which culminated during the summer of 1918 when the Second Battle of the Marne resulted in nearly 300,000 casualties.
While there are many riveting stories in this movie, a few key events were missed, such as the 1911 riots and the bitter feud between the Aube and Marne regions over what constitutes authentic champagne. So if you’re eager to fill in the gaps, Champagne: How the World’s Most Glamorous Wine Triumphed Over War and Hard Times by Don and Petie Kladstrup is a great book to complement this film.
Another aspect that was lacking had to do with the influence of marketing. Although there is some great footage mixed in with some iconic advertising posters, there were also plenty of missed opportunities. For example, while interviewing one of Bollinger’s barrel makers, we see several James Bond movie posters on the wall. This shot could have been a great segue into explaining how champagne houses were at one time at the cutting edge of product placement marketing. After all, was it all just one giant coincidence that the Bollinger label is distinctly shown in several 007 movies?
Thankfully, the film truly excels at pulling back the curtain on these six winemakers over the course of a year. From the big names to the small family-owned estates that produce only a couple thousand bottles a year, this behind-the-scenes tour of their operations is simply fascinating. From the harvesting and pressing of grapes to seeing hundreds of miles of underground cellars where bottles go through a tedious riddling process, there are quite a few gems we get to witness. So if you’re interested in how bubbles are made, then definitely watch this movie.
Question: I recently have been having some difficulty removing the corks intact when opening my older wines. Any tips for me Sid?
Answer: Switch to screwcaps? No I encounter the same issues. Used to be a big fan of the easy Screwpull type wine opener but having to go right through the bottom of the cork is not the best procedure for older more fragile ones. Also often like to use the handy double-hinged waiter’s corkscrew working it very slowly. However for older wines the Ah-So two pronged opener can work better though you have to be careful in inserting it not to push looser corks right into the wine. The safest bet for removing old corks with confidence and the one I now always use for old corks is The Durand (www.thedurand.com). The combination of both first a quality screw helix with stabilizer bar and then a two blade Ah-So style opener works marvellously! A wise investment for successfully removing your older corks.
Over the past year one of our tasting groups has shone a bright spotlight on the Syrah variety from the Northern Rhone. Quite an amazing journey! We enjoyed several theme dinners with a focus on various vintages of the most key regions including Hermitage (consistent leader Chave & top vintages from Jaboulet of 1990 & 1978), Cote Rotie (expensive Guigal Cote-Rotie single vineyard La La wines & still under rated Jamet), Cornas (amazing A. Clape, more controversial Jean-Luc Colombo & lesser known Domaine Alain Voge) and even lesser applauded Crozes-Hermitage: though that 1978 Thalabert from the late great Gerard Jaboulet is still world class!
Most recently we looked at St. Joseph a large area of some 40 miles from north to south planted on diverse soils of flat loam to prized hillside granite. A region presently without a clear unanimous leader though Chapoutier Les Granites has been a long time favourite of Robert Parker. We tried blind quite a few St. Joseph wines ranging from the Co-op’s special Esprit de Granite simpler aged 2006 to Chave’s young structured 2006 & cool menthol 2005. Impressed that so many of the best were all from long time Rhone specialty importer Kermit Lynch Wine Merchant (www.kermitlynch.com) in Berkeley, California: 2012 Domaine Monier “Terre Blanche” surprising white pepper from 30+ year vines, almost herbal Hermitage-like 2009 Monier-Perreol, very purple fresh 2011 Pierre Gonon granite slopes old school partially de-stemmed breeding, and rich complex 2009 Domaine Faury from ripe S & SE sun facing slopes. Check out the write-ups on his impressive featured producers! Some others of interest in our event were SCEA La Tache 2010s Cuvee Guillamy & Cuvee Badel, and 2 surprising ringers from Le Vieux Pin (www.levieuxpin.ca) a floral oaky vanilla 2010 & a fragrant more animal 2008 that both showed well in this tough company.
My overall impression is that St. Joseph is an important region to watch (and to collect at still relatively fair values) now finding an identity with keen producers making their mark and leading the way in different styles of Syrah with riper fruit all of increasingly top quality. Who will emerge over the next decade as the clear leader of St Joseph? Have you tried some? Check it out.
Alongside champagne, nothing has symbolized opulence and luxury more than the consumption of salty little fish eggs, better known as caviar. Long before Robin Leach first appeared on our TV sets, the bourgeois of London, Paris, and Berlin were simply enthralled by this exotic delicacy and the lavishness that surrounded it. When wealthy aristocrats from Central Russia demanded live sturgeon from Astrakhan—sturgeon that had to be transported in large tanks so they could indulge in only the freshest roe—many Europeans eagerly copied their culinary tastes, causing sales of caviar to go through the roof. Arriving first in porous wooden barrels and later in small tins, this scarce product has continued to command extraordinarily high prices. Just nine ounces of Ossetra caviar can cost more than a thousand dollars online.
But over the past twenty-five years, a disturbing trend has wreaked havoc across the Caspian Sea, home to the very best sturgeon. Following the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991, a power vacuum led to the dramatic rise of organized crime. With millions of dollars at stake in the lucrative caviar trade, inexperienced poachers, many of them financed by the mafia, began depleting the sturgeon population at a rapid pace. Environmental concerns had been pushed aside in attempting to squeeze every possible fish egg out of the Caspian. Working with corrupt customs officials and seemingly legitimate outfits in Europe and America, chances are that if you purchased Russian caviar in the early 1990s, it most likely passed through the hands of organized crime.
Writing in detail about this stark reality, author Inga Saffron explains why we need to start hitting the panic button in Caviar: The Strange History and Uncertain Future of the World’s Most Coveted Delicacy. Published in 2002, Saffron, a Pulitzer-Prize winning journalist for the Philadelphia Inquirer and the paper’s Moscow correspondent from 1994 to 1998 knows from firsthand experience just how truly dire the situation is. As we see during her research, it seems whatever regulations governments and international bodies put in place to protect the sturgeon, the criminals are always one step ahead of them.
A key problem is that the five countries—Russia, Iran, Kazakhstan, Turkmenistan and Azerbaijan—all share a perimeter around the Caspian Sea. So if the former two decide to crack down on over-fishing, one of the breakaway republics can easily offset it. “Notoriously corrupt, those republics became the center of the underground caviar industry,” writes Saffron. And as the sea became a Wild West for poachers, crude methods that are the antithesis to traditional sturgeon fishing quickly became the norm.
A sturgeon – weight 1020 lbs. – caught in New Westminster, British Columbia. Image courtesy: Library and Archives Canada
One of the book’s greatest strengths comes from its in-depth look at the history of both the fish and its prized roe. Considered a living fossil by scientists, the sturgeon with their sloping heads and shark-like tails have existed for approximately 250 million years, even before dinosaurs roamed the earth. Consisting of twenty-seven different varieties, some like the beluga, have easily weighed over a ton while a female’s eggs can account for fifteen percent of the bodyweight. Of course, retrieving the eggs at the right age and during the right part of the spawning cycle is paramount. “Sturgeon are in no hurry to reproduce. They take almost as long as a human being to reach sexual maturity. While a single fish may carry million of eggs in its belly, the odds are that only a single hatchling will survive into adulthood,” according to Saffron.
These facts help to underscore just how much damage has been done in terms quality and quantity since the poachers—or brakanieri (buccaneers) as they’re called in Russia—took over. Netting any type of female sturgeon, no matter what age they are in order to meet a short-term quota has clearly done irreparable damage to the species; one report from 1996 estimates that there are only 1,800 mature sturgeon left in the Volga River. Compounding this travesty are the crude methods used to extract the eggs by inexperienced and unlicensed fishermen.
“Never make caviar from a dead sturgeon,” is one of the rules Saffron learns from the skilled masters known as the ikryanchik.
Being able to purchase this product in some run-of-the-mill grocery stores by the mid-1990s, American demand led to an explosion in counterfeit and smuggling operations. With a chapter titled “Caviar from a Suitcase,” there are some fascinating stories about Eastern Europeans arriving at JFK Airport with suitcases containing over $100,000 in caviar contraband. Even more revealing is one company that sold inferior paddlefish roe disguised as authentic caviar to American Airlines—whose customers and staff never noticed the difference. These illegal activities even went all the way up to reputable dealers like Hansen-Sturm, an offshoot of Dieckmann & Hansen, who along with Petrossian were the two most respected pillars of the international caviar trade.
It’s ironic that people would go to such lengths when for so many years caviar was considered to be simple peasant food. According to the book, Louis XV was so repulsed by it that he spit the eggs out onto the carpet at his Versailles palace. And when German entrepreneurs arrived in the United States to assess the Delaware River, which contained an abundance of sturgeon, they were shocked to see people using the roe as bait or to feed their livestock. Describing the early colonial experience, Saffron writes, “As these Europeans struggled to make their way in the wild land, it seemed that eating such a grotesque bottom-feeding fish as the sturgeon would be the equivalent of sinking into barbarism.” How times have changed.
Tracing this rich history, it appears that what is currently going on in the Caspian Sea is exactly what happened in both Germany and the United States. At one time, the port city of Hamburg on the River Elbe was rich in sturgeon. So was Penns Grove, New Jersey, who along with a nearby town aptly named Caviar, supplied more roe in the 1880s than any other place on earth. But due to a combination of overfishing and pollution, the caviar rush in both countries was very short lived. Could the Caspian Sea be next?
For many conservationists, the answer appears to be yes. Even though measures have been enacted to prohibit the importation of certain types of caviar (beluga caviar was banned outright in 2005), the future of sturgeon seems to be in North America and Western Europe where hatcheries have been established to prevent its extinction. In the decade following the book’s release, numerous facilities in Canada and the United States have sprung up in order to save the species. But the future in Russia seems very much in doubt. Despite surviving two world wars and a massive hydroelectric dam that once threatened their entire existence, the will to protect what was once a cherished part of Russian culture appears to be evaporating. Quoting one fisherman, he stated, “The U.S. couldn’t save the buffalo and we can’t save the sturgeon.”