Quantcast

Category Archives: Wine of the week

Wine of the week: Faustino VII Tinto 2010

wineofweek

faustino viiWhen the Wine Curmudgeon started drinking wine, but before I started paying as much attention as I do now, a version of the Faustino was on store shelves. How old-fashioned, I thought, Roman numerals on a wine label.

Which is why I appreciate the Faustino VII ($8, purchased, 13%), and even a vintage as old as this one (of which there is still quite a bit on store shelves). It’s a Spanish red from the Rioja region, made with tempranillo, and about as old-fashioned a Rioja as you’ll find these days — from the Roman numerals to its traditional style, which is one reason why a 2010 $10 wine is still drinkable. The Spanish rarely make wines, even cheap ones, that go off in a year or two.

This isn’t Hall of Fame quality wine, but it’s not supposed to be. It’s Tuesday night takeout wine, orange beef, perhaps. It’s simple, but simple doesn’t mean stupid or insipid. Bodegas Faustino is a 150-year-old producer, and they’ve found a winemaking approach that works. And has worked. And keeps working.

Look for cherry fruit, Spanish-style acid, earthiness, and even what seemed to be a little oxidation — not unpleasant, but another sign of an old-fashioned Spanish wine. My guess is that the newer vintages, and there is a 2013, will taste about the same, minus the oxidation. That’s consistency to be appreciated.

Wine of the week: Moulin de Gassac Guilhem 2013

wineofweek

Moulin de Gassia GuilhemThe Wine Curmudgeon is a sucker for wines made with less known grapes from less known parts of the world. That’s because the revolution in winemaking and grape growing technology over the past 20 years has allowed these regions to improve quality with grapes that aren’t in great demand. Hence, a much better chance of quality wine for less money.

The Guilhem ($12, purchased, 12.5%) is a case in point. It’s a white blend from a little known part of the Languedoc in southern France, and the Languedoc remains little known itself. The wine is made with grenache blanc, terret blanc, and sauvignon blanc. Those first two grapes are obscure even for wine geeks, and it’s not like this part of France is famous for sauvignon blanc, either.

The result is a Hall of Fame quality wine that is just €5 in France, and yet another example why so much of what we find on the Great Wall of Wine in the grocery store makes me crazy. The Guilhem bears some resemblance to a white Rhone blend, with white fruit aromas and some spiciness. But it’s not oily or heavy, instead featuring red apple crispness — almost juiciness — and just enough minerality to be noticeable. The bottle, chilled, was empty in a half hour, and I was irritated I hadn’t bought two of them.

In this, it’s the kind of wine that demonstrates the advantages of a quality, independent retailer. I bought it from Cody Upton, a long-time pal and one of the most knowledgeable wine people I know. Cody, who is working at Pogo’s in Dallas, asked me how much I wanted to spend — tongue firmly in cheek — and then walked right to this. Does customer service get any better than that?

Wine of the week: Milagro Vina Fuerte 2011

wineofweek

Vina fuerteAldi’s Vina Decana, one of the great cheap wines in the 20-plus years I’ve been doing this, has apparently gone, leaving us almost as quickly as it appeared on the grocer’s store shelves. This is not unusual in wine, though I’ve never quite grown used to it. Wine can’t be made like a car, with a new model every year; there are too many vagaries of production, the supply chain, and the three-tier system.

The Decana’s replacement as Aldi’s private label Spanish tempranillo appears to be the Vina Fuerte ($5, purchased, 13%), though it’s from a different part of Spain. The first thing to know about the Fuerte is that it’s a perfectly competent red wine, and maybe even a little more than that, and certainly a value for $5. The problem is that it’s not the Decana, and it suffers by comparison.

Of course, almost any wine — and especially at this price — would. The Fuerte doesn’t have the Decana’s Spanish-style flair, and it’s not the kind of wine that makes you go, “Wow,” after the first sip. Rather, it’s more international in style, softer and with more oak showing, and cherry fruit instead of the Decana’s sour cherry. One plus, though: It does have the hint of orange peel that’s supposed to be there. This is red meat wine, though gentle enough for roast and grilled chicken.

Will I buy this again? Of course. The Fuerte is much better made than most of the boring — and even awful wine — for sale at this price. But I’ll always think of the Decana when I drink it.

Powered by WordPress | Designed by: suv | Thanks to toyota suv, infiniti suv and lexus suv