I’ll have a beer
Sure, it looks good – but what does it matter when you're drinking paint thinner?
Wine and wine tasting have fi ve preconceptions that are commonly ascribed to them. The fi rst is that wine and wine tasting are solely the preserve of pompous social climbing sycophants. The second is that wine, particularly cheap wine, is merely a means to getting absolutely trashed. The third is that any bottle of wine, regardless of its quality, will always provide a more stylish, rounded and erudite accompaniment to food than, say, ‘the wife beater’ would.
The fourth is that you can drink very well for under £4 per bottle. The last is held by those who, shall we say, have over the course of life or the latest essay crisis become somewhat attached to wine; they live by the adage that ‘bad wine is better than no wine’. These preconceptions are misconceptions, and I aim to prove it. Wine tasting is fun, slightly pretentious (but such is the Oxford way) and not solely the preserve of the pompous.
There is more to wine than a means of getting outrageously pissed, although I will admit that it is a frequent and enjoyable by-product. Wine is not always necessarily the ideal accompaniment to food; beer can often be better. You can drink reasonably well in the less-than- £4 bracket of the wine market, and as students who have spent the majority of this term’s loan paying the extortionate battels bill, that’s good news.
I have enlisted two other social dilettantes in order to attempt to taste test Sainsbury’s own brand of Claret (red wine from the Bordeaux region of France), retailing at £3.29 per bottle; Sainsbury’s own brand of South African Red Wine, retailing at £3.29 per bottle; Oddbins’ own brand Australian Semillon Chardonnay, retailing at £3.99 per bottle; and Oddbins’ own brand French Sauvignon Blanc, retailing at £3.99 per bottle.
In accompaniment to these glorious wines we are faced with the prospect of a Hassan’s kebab, a pork pie and selection of cold meats. The aim is to de-mystify wine tasting and to provide objective tasting notes, describing each wine and to suggest suitable food matches for each. In view of my choice of wines, the more objective of my above aims may prove to be a little ambitious. To be frank this is a task that I am not altogether relishing.
Four own brands in one night, coupled with a kebab, are liable to make you extremely ill. Wine tasting should be approached methodically, no doubt, but the method should be entirely subjective. That said, some pointers probably wouldn’t go amiss: in general terms, you should start by simply looking at the wine and examining its appearance and the depth of the its colour.
Next, you should smell the wine, searching for easily identifi - able aromas that may be exhibited this will help you differentiate between grape varieties and growing areas. Next, you should taste, taking a sip and gently drawing air over the wine before swilling it around your mouth. Again, look for easily identifi able tastes on the palate and in the after-taste.
It is sensible to attempt to remember which aromas and fl avours you identifi ed with individual grape types, because it allows you to compare wines of the same grape variety, as they will largely exhibit the same characteristics.
As wine is entirely a matter of personal taste you may decide that you prefer wine of a certain grape variety from a certain area, over that of the same grape variety from another growing area, and as you will fi nd, prices of individual grape varieties are hugely varied according to region.
My friends (guinea-pigs?) and I then embarked upon a task that I am sure has never been attempted before by anyone: to taste Sainsbury’s and Oddbins’ own brands, not with the aim of obliterating mental functions or enamalling the throat, but for the love of wine. I doubt whether even those responsible for making sure that cheap booze is on the counter at Sainsbury’s and Oddbins have done this, but here we go.
A quick consultation of the wine tasting manual revealed that one should always start with the whites: red wine, as I am sure most readers will have discovered the morning after a heavy night, continues to dominate the palate for some while after your last gulp. We started with the Oddbins’ Snake Creek Semillon Chardonnay from South Eastern Australia.
Oddbins claim that this is a ‘vibrant, crisp, light and fruity wine’ with an additional zest, provided (alarmingly I thought) by ‘sulphate additives’. This rather stark description is accurate, as the wine was light and fruity but quite brilliantly unexciting, and I can tell you in no uncertain terms that it did not exactly complement my kebab.
However, the Snake Creek is an ideal aperitif wine, especially if you were to mix it with lashings of Crème de Cassis, and would provide a cheap means to conviviality before a meal at a friend’s house in Cowley. Also, I don’t think that I would be too offended if I received it as a gift. Next was Oddbins’ Smoking Parrot Sauvignon Blanc from the Pays de Jardin in France. Oddbins didn’t even bother providing a tasting note for this wine, which did not bode well.
Aromatically, the wine had notes of cut grass, earth, minerals and a scent that was best described as ‘Hell’s Angel on a Harley Davidson’. As aromas go it was not in the least enticing, but never let that put you off. On the palate I was pleasantly surprised; although I warn you that my two companions were not, demonstrating that wine really is entirely a matter of taste. The palate was dominated by a buttery and herbaceous taste, dry with a marked acidity.
All of which combined to make this wine the Kirsty Young of Old World Sauvignon: light, dry, racy, congenial and, above all, affordable. Although it did not complement any of the food we had to hand, I would imagine that it would harmonize well with North Sea prawns, anchovies, shrimps and salads that are dominated by thick creamed dressings. Having said that, a large glass was enough mid way through the second, waves of nausea became overwhelming.
Next we moved onto Sainsbury’s own brand South African Cape Red. It was a sad time for all concerned, not even the late, great George Best would have stooped so low. Sainsbury’s, in addition to recommending that the wine be consumed within six months of purchase, described this mix of Grenache, Merlot and Shiraz as ‘smooth and juicy with berry aromas and a fruity palate’.
This came as a shock to my fellow tasters and I: the nose was dominated by a rich aromas of smoked oak and cooked peppers whilst the palate tasted like a massacred barbeque. However, to any of you who have become so degenerate that you now throw dinner parties where the main course is a Hassan’s, I can tell you that Sainsbury’s own is a natural and extremely affordable accompaniment to spicy and heavy food. Once again, it does tend to get a little sickly after a couple of glasses.
Finally, we arrived at the Sainsbury’s own brand Claret, which contained a mix of the Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Malbec and Cabernet Franc grapes, the traditional constituents of up-market red wine from Bordeaux. Claret in my opinion is consistently the fi nest wine available to humanity; nowhere in the world is there such a large area that produces both fantastic but astronomically expensive wine together with excellent and affordable wine.
I love Claret and the prospect of having to taste Sainsbury’s imitation was less than appealing, rather like being forced to listen to James Blunt despite being a Dylan devotee. Sainsbury’s description of their offering was as effusive as ever the only things that it thought pertinent to mention were that the wine should be consumed within six months and that it should be served at room temperature.
Having complied with these demands in the most extensive manner possible, we set about our unenviable task. Claret, especially when young, should display aromas of wood-chippings and graphite on the nose, which this one, amazingly, did. Claret is also renowned for what is known as a tannins structure a pompous phrase for the dryness on the gums and tongue that some red wines cause this wine did display a tannins structure of sorts and lively taste of red fruits.
This is by no means good ordinary Claret, and frankly you would do better to scour the shelves of Oddbins or Wine Rack and look for Bordeaux that is 3-4 years old and costs about £5, but to be fair to Sainsbury’s, their offering for £3.29 is not too bad, and would ably accompany heavy pasta and red meat dishes. I hope I have succeeded in de-mystifying wine and wine tasting, or at least have had more success than Richard and Judy, and I hope to God that I am not as pompous as they are.
Bearing in mind that I wrote this article the morning after, and there are corpses in cemeteries with more life in them than me this morning, I think I have conclusively proved that the adage ‘bad wine is better than no wine’ is wildly inaccurate, although I imagine I shall make the same mistake again in the near future. The claim that you can drink well for under £4 is a myth more unsubstantiated than OUSU’s claims to fi nancial competence and the book of Genesis combined.
However, you can drink reasonably well for around £4-5; the Cono Sur range from Chile, for example, and in particular the Pinot Noir, is excellent. If you’re really serious about fi nding wild new ways to approach wine tasting (or if you’re skint) you could do worse than try a similar experiment, as far as I can tell it’s done no lasting damage.
26th Jan 2006