The bordeaux palate | thearticle

Wine may appear a work of art to its devotees, but it is also firmly rooted in technology, and advances in technology tend to alter the natural qualities of our favourite drink. Take

Bordeaux. When I started out all those years ago, the _appellations contrôlées_ or AOCs (or AOPs as they are now called) were set in stone. They laid down the law as to what grape varieties

might be used and what sort of alcoholic degrees would be tolerated. Back then we understood that our favourite wines from the Médoc and the Graves (we left St Emilion and Pomerol very

largely to the Belgians) would be under 12 per cent alcohol, would be dominated by Cabernet Sauvignon and would have an identifiable taste of blackcurrants, and possibly a passing note of

cedar wood. But Bordeaux changed after the bad patch following the 1956 frosts, which wreaked havoc, killing off entire vineyards. The good vintages of the sixties (’61 and ’66) were made

from the few surviving vines while new quantity-producing clones were allowed to reach maturity. The first wines they made in the seventies were disappointing, and it was not until 1982 that

another great vintage had been born to Bordeaux. One wine critic set his stamp on that vintage — the American Robert Parker. It happened at a time when a broader market was opening up in

the US and Americans made massive purchases. When I tasted the Pichon Comtesse from the cask in 1983, a very young-looking _maître de chai_ said “_c’est presque californien_” — which I

thought odd, but apparently a resemblance to Napa wines had been noted. Years later a not very nice château-owner in St Emilion told me: “You English, you want to be gentlemen and when you

write about our wines no one buys. Robert he is different: he comes here, he likes the wine, and next the warehouse is empty.” It was significant that she was a proprietor in St Emilion.

Parker was thought to prefer the Merlot grape that predominated in most blends on the right bank of the Gironde. Merlot produced more alcohol and silkier tannins than Cabernet Sauvignon — in

short, wines both heady and hedonistic. Encouraged by sales, growers made wines to please Parker, and not just in St Emilion but all over Bordeaux. Merlot and high alcohol elbowed out both

Cabernet and the much vaunted elegance of the past. Add a dollop of climate change and Bordeaux was set to become a big (and occasionally pretty hairy) beast. Forty years later, and I am

pleased to report that there is plenty of variety. Cabernet Sauvignon has survived — and more besides. That is the point behind the five wines I am presenting today. A varied palate of

grapes and multiple approaches to wine-making give rise to different flavour profiles. The Ducourt family owns a massive 1,100 hectares (2,500 acres) of vines stretched across 14 châteaux in

Bordeaux. Château de Beauregard-Ducourt is in the Entre-deux-Mers between the Garonne and Dordogne rivers. The 2015 is a more or less evenly balanced blend of Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon.

It is poised and elegant, develops nicely in the glass and is particularly good value at £12 in a mixed case. Sally Evans is a former consultant who makes her Château George 7 in 3 hectares

(8 acres) of the top right-bank area of Fronsac. It is 100 per cent old-vine Merlot, and weighs in at 14.5 per cent alcohol. Just 10,000 bottles are made and Sally seems to throw the lot at

them, including plenty of new oak. The 2018 is young, but it is certainly a he-man, reeking of black cherries. It is rich and ripe, but eludes the trap of being sweet or “porty”. Vignobles

Arbo are based in the Côtes de Bordeaux and Castillon (scene of the famous battle in 1453 that drove the English from their colony in Guyenne and put an end to the 100 Years War). Their 2018

Malbec (there is a smidgen of Merlot) is a rarity for the Bordeaux region. In France, Malbec (or _Côt_) is associated more with Cahors up the Dordogne river. With its perfume of blueberries

and blackberries, and creamy vanilla flavour, it is opulent. It also packs a punch with 14.5 per cent alcohol (even if it wears it lightly). Château Lestrille is also in the Entre-deux-Mers

where the wines are made by Estelle Roumage. The 2014 is a traditional un-oaked wine made entirely from Merlot. With a little whiff of caraway it fills out nicely in the glass. It is

pleasingly old-fashioned in its approach and good value for money. It would make an ideal Sunday claret. Lastly comes the 2016 Cuvée Noire from Château Carsin in Cadillac which combines all

six permitted grape varieties for the AOP red Bordeaux: Merlot, Cabernet Franc, Malbec, Petit Verdot, Cabernet Sauvignon and Carmenère — each apparently bringing its contribution to an

exciting and brilliantly structured blend with a complex black fruit character. The wine is made by the Finn Nea Berglund, the daughter of the same Juha I had the pleasure to meet in Vienna

a couple of years back. For music lovers, Juha is the son of Sibelius’s friend and interpreter Paavo Berglund, the conductor who is credited with putting all those Finns on the musical map.

Maybe it would not be fanciful to see a link between Paavo and the harmony I found in his granddaughter’s wines?