This pandemic has felt at times like running the latter stages of a marathon. In particular the feeling when someone says “not far to go now!” and you run on for another 5 miles and then some other perky guy says exactly the same thing. You want to stop, catch your breath and say – someone said that five fucking miles earlier!

Thankfully, wine has been a constant source of solace through some of the bleaker evenings of the past year.

A nice American emailed a while back suggesting that drinking a bottle of Schueller was a thrill-ride.  

In my opinion, it’s more like a joy-ride where he’s eyeballing you, about to pour petrol onto the rear-seats as he screams he needs to go faster. Something known as ‘Hot-Seating’ when I was growing up. He gives, in the words of a young person, zero-fucks.

It’s not that the wines can’t reach peaks of excellence, they really can – but they are so unpredictable. I blush now to recall recommending his 2016 Slyvaner to a customer who wanted an easy drinking natural wine for a party. Sheesh, it was such hard-work, bitter, herby, nervy – with so little padding that I forgot all about my last few bottles until a few weeks ago when I popped one open just for some excitement and got something really much improved. Still a wine that speaks more of Schueller then of Slyvaner, but none the worse for it.

Bruno is an interesting cat. He has views and is quite dismissive of much of what is held up as the pinnacle of Alsaction winemaking – don’t bring a bottle of Clos St Hune round to his house unless you want to start an argument. I think a sense of injustice is perhaps engendered by the perception that the Trimbach’s farm in a relatively industrial way, yet enjoy an outsize reputation – which when you’re slogging your guts out as a one-man artisanal band like Bruno, can put ones nose a bit out of joint. IDK, there are some great Trimbach wines, but plenty of stinkers as well, and wines old way before their time.

As a side note, when I was cycling through Alsace with a mate, we thought we’d check out the Clos St Hune vineyard in the Grand Cru Rosacker. We found the church, we found the Rue St Hune, did we see any clos? No we did not, a sign would be nice guys. Sort it out please Jean Trimbach!

A wine that was very much in contrast with the Sylvaner was a bottle of Weinbachs’s 2018 Gewurztraminer drunk the next week, which was so much more civilised, which ticked every box of competence, but I don’t know – left one missing some of the excitement served up by the ilk of Schueller, Frick and their contemporaries, who you do rather end up rooting for despite, or perhaps because of, some of the mis-steps and quirks.

2018 Rozas 1er, Commado G

Having slept in a vineyard myself when my bike broke down in Southern France, I enjoyed reading about how the two founders of Commando G, Daniel Landi and Fernando Garcia would sleep in their camper van in the Rayas vineyards. When they finally plucked up the courage to ask for a tour and various geographical features were pointed out, they must have looked between themselves and thought ‘yeah, we pissed against that tree’.

Whether sleeping in a vineyard achieves the same feat of psychogeographical osmosis as listening to self-help cassettes in your sleep, I don’t know. But I do know what they mean when they talk about Rayas evoking a ‘special feeling’ when you drink it. It was that special feeling that led them to make their campervan pilgrimage.

There’s another special feeling you might experience having spent £500 to buy a bottle – but if you’re lucky, you get a sort of unique flavour / emotional balance that is so brilliant, yet so specific to Rayas it has been the highest reference for anyone making a Grenache based wine. There has been some shameless referencing from wines that bear nothing in common, and I don’t think Commando G are trying to do that – just to show their deep reverence for a wine style that they adore. This cuvee is the middle wine in the range, beautifully light in colour, but with very pure flavours – more of an alpine sort of style then a CNDP – It lacks the notes of garrigue and is a bit more cerebral then the emotional overload that is Rayas – but it is very nice indeed, and does make me want to try the Rumbe al Norte – which I’m told from those I trust, is an exceptionally lovely wine.

2017 Cotes de Rhone, Sierra du Sud, Gramenon

Gramenon are perhaps my favourite CDR producer – and this wine has a really beautifully opulent mid-palate, with just enough acidity to keep it the right side of gulpable – in fact, strange though it might sound, it is not so dissimilar to some ripe vintages of Foillard Cote de Py that clock in at 14.5%

2017 Bourgogne Rouge, Cuvee Pressonnier, Joseph Roty

When I was at the Roty’s a couple of years, I was surprised at how many wines were in their line-up – it was something like 24 or something. I may be wrong, and I digress – just surprised me how many wines they make.

They are one of my favourite Gevrey producers – and I love the muscular style of the wines – this is quite oaky for a wine at this level – with a sort of smoky character – might be better in a few years, but delivers great value. Everyone bangs on about how expensive the top wines of Burgundy are getting, and they’re right, but a wine like this at about 14 quid or so works pretty well for me.

2016 El Jaleo, Edmunds-St-John

A beautiful label featuring a picture by Whistler, this blend is in such a good place right now – I do think Steve’s wines need a year of two to show their best. It is such a European sort of style, so unforced and natural, with notes of dried spice and cherry.

That these wines, produced in such tiny quantities, (270 cases in this instance) at such high quality levels, are available at such low prices is a wonder of the modern world.  For how long, who knows. There are probably not that many vintages left in Steve. “Even as far back as 2003, when I had Syrah in the press from Bassetti Vineyard on the Central Coast, and I was tasting the wine I realized for the first time that the wine wouldn’t be ready until after I am dead,” he said recently to Alder Yarros of Vinography.

Alder asks: “Are you going to just take down the shingle one day?”

Edmunds laughs and says, “We’ll put the shingle in a museum when we’re done.”

They seek him here, they seek him there, the wines of Pierre Benetiere, they’re never there. To the dedicated followers of Northern Rhone fashion, Benetiere came upon us quietly. Me, I heard there was a tiny producer making wines from the south of the appellation, that had a Burgundian tendency that recalled the best work of Jean-Michel Stephan.

After selling parcels of the 09 and 12, you could count me in. But the flow of wines stopped. After chasing the agents for some time, I spoke to the buyer who could no longer offer the wines. Why? Benetiere couldn’t be found. He was uncontactable by telephone, and when they visited him over two occasions, the winery looked deserted.

I popped in around two or three times and tried calling a few times, but I got nowhere.

His winery is in the main town, and next to a motor-car garage – he was there, as I saw some rugby magazines in an old van. He’s a big rugby man apparently.

Then there were the 2015s, which seemingly never appeared on the market – they should have been released in 2017 but they started only trickling out in 2019. Then when they were released, they had label applied over label – they had been declassified from Cote-Rotie to Vin de Pays. Paperwork error or not, gossip followed the wines. They were dumped by their original importer and taken up by another and offered in some instances with no refunds. Some said they were cooked, most disagreed. Where to begin?

There is no end-point in sight, the 16s are still unreleased, still no real info and what a shame. These wines are so good. John Livingstone-Learmonth has tasted the 16 and 17 so they must exist, but where are these wines going? I dunno.

There aren’t too many Puligny producers actually based in Puligny – something to do with the high water table. One of the oldest and most classic is Paul Pernot – Their gothic labels capture their philosophy well. It is a style like Ramonet I think,  the acidity is always vibrant, and the wines age very well, but it never tends towards the super crisp, almost tart style that is en-vogue in some places.

As Jasper Morris MW notes: “At present, 80% of Pernot’s wines are sold on to extremely fortunate Negociants in Beaune. However, the 20% that Paul retains and bottles himself is the absolute crème de la crème and quintessentially representative of Puligny at its best.”- He adds: “they could be the outstanding Domaine of that appellation”. I don’t think they are the best domaine in the village, but they’re in the top handful,

This Bourgone Blanc comprises of fruit from three parcels. Two are within Puligny on the Meursault border and planted around 1975. Just a track separates these parcels from AC Puligny vineyards. The other parcel is de-classified fruit from the 1er cru Champ-Canet.

Their Bourgogne Blanc is aged in tank – so it misses some of the grander pretentions of other leading BBs – I don’t think it is at quite the same levels as those from Roulot, Boisson-Vadot, Ramonet or Leflaive, but it needs a bit of time – it’s better on the third day – Equally, this style does need a bit more time to stretch out it’s legs as opposed to say, PYCM. But as a house BB – well, you can’t go wrong!

There was a certain amount of ribbing when an old colleague contributed his blog post ‘Make mine a half” it is true. What sad specimen of manhood couldn’t drink a bottle of wine over two days we reasoned. Roll on ten years, and I can see the logic. Sometimes a half bottle is what you want for an evening. Just a glass or two. So then, what am I doing drinking a magnum on my own tonight?

God knows.

1989 Chardonnay Domaine Rolet

About 6 months ago I brought a large consignment of magnums from Rolet in Jura from 1988 to 2004 from an auction in Dijon. I believe that when the family sold the estate in 2018, they had a quantity of older vintages that they bottled in 2017 – mostly in magnums, that they consigned to the market. I don’t know the details – but that’s the picture I have. The Diam cork pictured shows the date of mise.

In fact, I remember visiting the estate in about 2012. It’s a big operation, they have about 70 hectares under vine, making it one of the biggest family concerns in the region. The quality of the wines that we tasted was really good – didn’t really fit in with what we were doing, but they were a nice team to meet.

There is a certain oxidative character that is a bit sherry-ish, but not like old Burgundy. More acidity, more freshness – it’s a stunning bottle of wine. Truly exciting and invigorating.

2017 Moulin a Vent Domaine de Vissoux

Tutti frutti, oh rootie. Wop bop a loo bop a lop bom bom!

A real Little Richard of a wine, so full of strut, so full of fruit. All of the red kind. Cranberry, raspberry, redcurrant, cherry. Very nicely balanced and long – lots of complexity. So opulent though, it needs I think a little bit of time, just to civilise itself a bit – maybe it never will, and that wouldn’t be too bad, but its just a bit much for me at the minute.

2015 Saumur Blanc Les Portes St Jean, Sylvain Dittiere

When I had the 14 a few years ago I remember being distinctly underwhelmed. But it was one of those nights where everything tasted just like a potential hangover. This was a stunner though, with so much matchstick it was less Loire, and more like Coche.