Viña Matalian 2017, seen here just South of its natural habitat in Chiclana but not in its natural vessel.
The simplest of the wines from Primitivo Collantes‘ Finca Matalian in Chiclana de la Frontera (see this link for a not very up to date summary of the full range (it is missing Socaire for a start)), this has always been a favourite of mine for summer drinking. It is as cheap, as they say, as chips, but is fresh, unassuming and beautifully gluggable.
This vintage seems to me to have a bit more fruit and concentration, which you notice more as you get into the bottle, but even so it is far too easy to drink, even from a rental property egg cup like this one!
Another crack at these, this time at the bar of Angelita. They are two wines sourced from the same solera (none other than the Solear en Rama) but at opposite ends of the building (the famous Arboledilla bodega), the idea being to demonstrate the effects on the wine of the microclimates within the building itself due to the different prevailing winds (poniente the sea breeze, levante the land breeze). (By the way the “two ma’res” reference is to a cracking joke by Primitivo Collantes which would take so long to explain it would lose its spontaneity.)
Big difference in colour, open a little while and the difference between the two seems to have yawned wider. The Poniente finer and sleeker, the Levante more boisterous. I bitterly regret not trying to find a contemporaneous saca of the Solear en Rama itself to complete the comparisons.
Nevertheless it is a fantastic little bottling and fascinating for any self respecting sherry nerd (and if you are reading this, well I suppose there is no guarantee of self respect but …). Brilliant stuff and a recent prize for Barbadillo as “most innovative bodega” is well earned imho.
Not my first glass of this or even my second but the first one I have had time to savour and write about. An old school, older fino from Balbaina Alta with a bit south of 10 years under the flor.
I first tried it back in February at the Cuatrogatos Wine Fest where it was a touch overshadowed by its magnificent big brothers the Oloroso and Moscatel but this is a class wine in its own right.
The colour is a beautiful, appetising rich old gold that puts you in mind of oxidation. The nose is also cracking: haystacks and rich roasted almonds, a really savoury nose. Then on the palate you get that classic combination of zingy salinity and roasted to bitter almond – a deep savoury flavour turning bitter at the end before a sizzling saline finish.
Really tasty, classy fino (and you can try it yourself at the bar of Angelita).
Eighteen months ago when a group of friends and I sat down to share Volume II of the Pitijopos this wine, from Miraflores Alta, was my pick of the crop so when I saw them being sold individually in Reserva y Cata recently I couldn’t resist picking it up for another dip.
And I am glad to say it is just as good as I remembered – maybe even a little finer. A little closed first up but the clouds soon burnt off and it grew into a really class, fresh and “vertical” (in the parlance) white wine with a lot of enjoyable lemony umami citrus on the nose and the palate and just a classy touch of salinity on the finish.
Lovely stuff and great memories.
The fourth episode of this awesome saga comes with a darker colour, a richer nose and a softer feel. A real change from its three older (or younger?) siblings.
The series always promised to be an education in the effects of static ageing on the wines but it has also been a delight. The first wine had fruit and body resisting the biology: it was frankly a revelation at the time, and a glimpse of what could be possible with the minimum ageing under flor. The second was sharper, finer and the apple fruit and salinity marked it out as a real manzanilla. The third was a manzanilla with purpose: heavier with ozone and salinity. Now number four has oxidation and the resulting wine is enticing on the nose and full of mellow fruitfulness on the palate.
Nothing will ever repeat the emotion and excitement that accompanied that first wine or its significance – I remember it getting a standing ovation the first time I shared it with the guys-, but as a wine itself this may be the most enjoyable yet. It is a little beauty.
Sorry for the radio silence everybody: have been running around a lot lately and haven’t found time to get the posts out. Rest assured, however, that I have maintained my blood alcohol level and that the silence does not indicate abstinence. Rather, I have accumulated a big stack of draft posts.
Of which this is one: an encounter with the 2015 UBE Carrascal, by Cota 45. The original UBE and for me still my favourite: a wine that starts fresh, sharp and mineral and just grows in breadth and stewy, beefy flavour as it opens in the glass. A really expressive wine – this one started a little chilly but soon warmed up – and one that shows that you don’t have to compromise between freshness and flavour.
Fresh, expressive and flavourful. Top drawer.
It’s nice to discover new places and it’s nice to run into old friends, so you can’t argue with running into old friends in new places. These two wines – which I was able to enjoy yesterday at El Escaparate – are definitely old friends.
I first came across the 2016 sacas of these released as part of the Colección Añadas – in fact they were among the first añada (vintage specific) wines that I had tried.
The two have a lot in common: from the same palomino in the same vineyards in Añina and Carrascal (Jerez), aged for the same eight years in botas of american oak of 500 and 600L before the saca in April this year. The difference is that the fino was fortified to 15º after fermentation, allowing it to develop flor, whereas the oloroso was fortified to 18º and allowed to age “traditionally”. It makes for a great opportunity to compare and contrast the effects of the biological and oxidative ageing.
It is also really interesting to contrast the various sacas. The first saca was in february 2016 and there have been two or three before this one in April 2017, and it has been interesting to see how the fino, in particular, has changed over time.
It was always a rich, juicy fino with a touch of oxidation, but this one for me has gone over the top from fino to amontillado, with slightly less sharpness and caramel complementing the hazelnuts that, foe me, characterized this vintage. Just look at the colour of it for a start: it is barely distinguishable from the oloroso.
The oloroso too has changed: it always had a spirity, volatile heavy hazelnut nose but this one seems a little quieter by comparison – but maybe the bottle had been open a while, or maybe it was just the change in the fino that made them closer in character.
Two lovely wines, and absolutely perfect with the various delicious meats on offer at El Escaparate (they certainly did the job with Higinio’s finest breasts of Barbary duck and wood pigeon).