Equipo Navazos release some class wines and this manzanilla is always one of them. A new bottling from the same botas that gave us the illustrious Bota 71 – and which I guess are botas acquired in 2007 from the cellars home to the famous La Guita.
As soon as you pour a glass you know this is an altogether richer wine than La Guita – a gorgeous old gold colour – and at the same time wonderfully aromatic, with lots of haybales and the archetypal chamomile. I remember first smelling the 71 from almost across the room at a social gathering and this one takes me back to that moment.
That chalky Miraflores character is very much in evidence on the palate, but here overlaid with the good juice: yeast, zingy salinity and sweet herbal tea.
An excellent manzanilla and a real blockbuster of a wine.
I always thought this would get even better in the bottle and it has definitely gained in intensity on the palate, but has maybe just lost that apple and chamomile fruity nose that it had when first released. The flavour profile has gone from the sweet apple pie to baked cider apples, and the aromatics have dialed down.
It has, in short, become altogether more serious, and I miss the youthful zest of 18 months ago. I was wrong and I take it back, please tell me there is a new vintage!
I still love this wine, but I loved it so much more six years ago.
Maybe it is me. This is the wine that first caught my attention back in the day – it absolutely knocked my socks off in what was my most memorable wine experiences. I still remember firing off an email to a friend in pure amazement at what to me was an entirely different dimension (although then I had probably tried a total of ten sherries, eight finos and two ancient olorosos).
And I also swim against a strengthening tide on the question of bottle ageing. I understand that the oldest wines can be finer and sharper, and even funkier, but I love the freshness and fullness of texture and flavours of these wines when new, and this one when it was new really knocked my socks off.
And although old men forget (yet all shall be forgot) there is no doubt in my mind that this wine has changed over the years. Images may be worth thousands of words and if so this image backs me up.
Which isn’t to say it isn’t an absolute belter of a wine. Aromatic on the nose, sharp up front and superbly aromatic, too, on the palate. The almond and nuts are slightly more toasted than when the world was new and the bright orange notes more marmalade but they are still there and so is the ginger. It really is terrific stuff.
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.