I have been on a rampage of Ube drinking lately due to the happy coincidence that while Madrid’s unseemly warmth parches the throat, the watering holes I head to (for the record, home, then Angelita, Taberna Palo Cortado, Taberna Verdejo, and now Dis Tinto), are awash with these high class fresheners.
And I speak in the plural because the Ubes are legion. First came the Carrascal. Then the Miraflores. She in turn was followed by the Maina. And this, my friends, is Paganilla 2018.
I honestly have no clue where Pago Paganilla is – but given that the label says Barajuelas and Tosca Cerrada and the way this wine shapes up I am guessing we are nearer to Maina than Carrascal, if not further inland. Pale gold straw in colour but bags of bandwidth on the nose and the palate – really flavourful with ripe herby fruit and oxidation – not quite savoury apricot jam and dry honey but on the way there. And a stinging saline, mouth watering finish, with that jammy, herby flavour hanging on for ever.
This is not like most white wines. I like this very much.
Back at the place where this blog was born (the Malaga coast) and a nice surprise to find this visitor from Cadiz on the supermarket shelf. Chiclana’s finest – the Arroyuelo fino by Primitivo Collantes and his fields of albariza.
This one seems to have been in the bottle a little while – this is not an en rama wine but showing a nice blush of color. Superb on the nose – lovely haybales, chamomile and almonds -, really fragrant and aromatic. And then the full monty on the palate: sharp, zingy start, then flavours that go from fresh to nutty to herby, and a fiery, mouth watering saline finish. Was really cracking with an espeto of sardines I can tell you.
Not as famous as some of the bodega’s wines but all the hallmarks of a class fino.
Full disclosure: this wine is distributed here in Madrid by a good friend of mine and not only that but he gave me this bottle.
So feel free to take it with a pinch of salt when I tell you it is a cracking good little manzanilla. Floral, with plenty of the archetypal chamomile on the nose, and serious on the palate, with a whiff of white fruit backed up by a knitting needle of saline heat and grapefruit and a long, warm, lingering and mouthwatering finish. At the flowery, juicy end of the scale.
But of course you cannot in all conscience rely on the objectivity of this review so I suggest you get out and buy some.
The bar of Angelita Part II and more pure quality. Emilio Hidalgo’s world class amontillado fino.
Intrigued to see the back label – it used to be that to work out the saca you had to decipher the lot number but now the month and year are proudly displayed – November 2018 in this case. I for one think it is the right move – more transparent, more information for us nerds, and a recognition of the fact that the wine changes both in barrel and bottle – even an amontillado like this one.
Not that this wine seems to change. Consistently one of the most elegant wines from Jerez, it has a silky feel and beautifully fine profile with layers of granary bread, nut and hazelnut aromas and flavours.
A timeless classic, dated.
Williams & Humbert were kind enough to invite me to a cracking little party to celebrate the launch of their new añadas but amidst all the dancing, music, gossip and posing and after a few glasses my ability to appreciate the wines in detail was lightly impaired.
Luckily I caught up with this fino in the nearest thing we have to laboratory conditions – the bar of Angelita – and have had a proper run at it. One of the Colección Añadas and a fascinating contrast to its predecessor, the 2009.
The two wines are from the same vineyard in consecutive years, have been cellared in the same cellar by the same hand but they are as different as two sisters can possibly be. Whereas the 2009 was all lush gentleness, full of juice and hazelnut, this is sharp, zingy, with bitter liquorice flavours and heat from a salty, peppery finish.
Moody but magnificent – wish I had paid more attention the first time!
Have come across this a few times around Madrid in recent weeks – including with the man himself – but have just not had time to put thumbs to screen and bash out a post.
This is the “manzanilla olorosa” by Bodegas Alonso. An old style no longer officially recognized by the Consejo, it seems to fit in somewhere between manzanilla and manzanilla pasada. A more fragrant manzanilla, with a little oloroso character, which can be achieved in a variety of ways (as is so often the case in Jerez). In this wine it is achieved by giving the manzanilla eight months in an old oloroso butt. And it is certainly tasty stuff.
The first thing you notice about the wine is the bottle. If the standard velo flor bottle is tricky to rack, this magnum format looks even more of a wine storage headache. On the plus side, it would be hard to knock this bottle over in a breeze, and it looks pretty cool.
It’s a nice old gold colour in the glass, clear as a Madrid sky without quite shining. Then on the nose there is sea breeze, yeast and just that hint of baked apple, aromas that are backed up as it hits the tongue and back of the mouth.
A tasty, enjoyable manzanilla no doubt, and all the better for that brief stay in an old barrel.
Some barrel in the juice here.
This was a much anticipated wine when it was released – the 10th anniversary special edition – and typical of Equipo Navazos that they surprised everybody with a wine from a bodega in Chiclana.
And a cracking wine it is too. Lots of juice in this. Deep chestnut in colour with a bright, piercing, cherry brandy nose, then it has lively acidity on the palate and tobacco, barrel and church furniture concentration on the palate, leaving a burnt caramel flavour clinging to the sides of the mouth. Warm throughout – an obviously old wine but one with plenty of life to it.
Happy Anniversary to them!