Less is more, but not mourvèdre

LESS IS MORE, BUT NOT MOURVÈDRE

Cabernet Sauvignon is the king. Merlot was once the usurper, but has fallen back to regroup. Syrah was a challenger for a hot minute but could not nail down a global identity.

Speaking from a ‘Big Dog’ perspective, this also eliminates Pinot Noir and Grenache from contention due to their frequent femininity (soft and supple doesn’t win this particular race). But, far off on the distant horizon, there trots a dark horse named Mourvèdre.

Mourvèdre (AKA Mataro, Monastrell) generally produces rich wines with big tannins and a full spice rack of flavors. If Cabernet Sauvignon = cassis, Syrah = bacon fat, and Cabernet Franc = graphite, Mourvèdre’s signature is that it doesn’t have one.

It can be tough to grow, particularly in cooler vintages, so most producers use it as part of a blend (it’s the M in GSM). In France, it’s mostly grown in Bandol (by law, Bandol must be at least 50% Mourvèdre) and Southern Rhône, particularly Chateauneufdu-Pape (Chateau de Beaucastel being the one CdP producer that utilizes Mourvèdre as the primary varietal in the blend).

Superb examples, both blended and standalone, can be found from Eastern Spain, Southern Australia, California Central Coast, Washington and Arizona. A recent spin cycle through a trio of favorites from current releases yielded delicious results, albeit with a lot more questions than answers due to the chameleonic nature of these wines.

The 2010 Tablas Creek Mourvèdre from their Paso Robles organic estate led off in spectacular and wide-ranging fashion.

Aromatics are everywhere‌pickle barrel, Red Hots, chocolate-covered green apple, cherry Life Savers, boysenberry and gunpowder (basically, if you added hot buttered popcorn,

it’s a trip to the movie theatre snack bar) (maybe not the gunpowder) (then again, maybe, you know your theatre better than me). On the palate, flavors morph from high-toned craisins and bitter aperitif (Bonal?) to fresh flowers and Red Bull.

Two ongoing aspects that pulled back some of the joy were a funky plastique note on the nose and an angry acid thing from the youthful tannins.

Like most Mourvèdres, it will likely go through a ‘dumb’ period where it locks up for a year or three, then open and evolve into more earth tones, less fruit, the plastique disappearing and the tannic balance resolving itself. But probably not anytime soon. Which is why I may open another one tomorrow.

On a side note, the practice of tasting wines that put your palate on a roller coaster ride like Mourvèdre tend to hone your thought process and sharpen your senses. For example, during this tasting, we commented that the expanding trend of checkered flannel shirts, rolled-up jean cuffs and stocking caps requires a new clothing category: Lumbersexual.

The 2009 Torbreck ‘Pict’ Mourvèdre marks a righteous return of this Barossa, Australia, powderkeg. It is marked by a touch of elasticity to the texture, as if it were fluid (no pun intended) (just this once).

The nose is an herbal potpourri – bay leaf, epazote, cardomam, quassia bark, yerba buena (also a helluva band) – along with roasted Hatch chile, dark maple syrup, chimichurri, and Tahitian vanilla bean.

The palate is a veritable well-stocked back bar (rhum agricole, aged rye whiskey, crème de violette, Nonino amaro), augmented with ripe blueberry, black plum, mesquite smoke and watermelon rind doused with Peychaud’s bitters.

There is an earthy, round quality to the expressive, lengthy finish. It doesn’t leave you wanting, it leaves you guessing. At one point, the Pict was the most expensive Mourvèdre on the planet, and, while not exactly a bargain, pricing of recent vintages has dropped considerably.

In the Bandol region of France, the master of Mourvèdre is undeniably Domaine Tempier. Even their rosé is 50%+ Mourvèdre. Their red lineup includes an estate bottling and a trio of single vineyard releases. All their wines are organically farmed, produced with native yeasts, bottled unfined & unfiltered. Unlike the previous Mourvèdres tasted for this blog, Tempier does some varietal blending.

The estate bottling and La Tourtine vineyard are 70% to 80% Mourvèdre, the La Migoua vineyard 50% to 65% Mourvèdre, and the house favorite tasted for this round-up, Cabassaou vineyard, 95% Mourvèdre with a splash of Syrah and Cinsault. The 2010 Tempier Cabassaou is an inky monster.

Dark, dank, foreboding and formidable. It’s every bit as complex as the previous Mourvèdres but not nearly as accessible, as if its secrets require codebreaking, of sorts.

The aromas dart in and out – coriander seed, gumbo filé, damp earth, pepita mole, Luxardo maraschino liqueur.

The palate dances from obscure candy notes (Italian anise drops, Red Vines rolled in grapefruit mint) to vanilla wafers dipped in bitter chocolate, overripe Bing cherries, iron filings and Fee Bros gin barrel-aged orange bitters, all misted by a cloud of Jelinek fernet.

The final taste image is one of pomegranate seeds removed of the vast majority of their sweetness. Drinking this is like watching the Orson Welles classic flick ‘Touch of Evil’.

You never really know who is on what side of the border, or why Charlton Heston is playing a Mexican, terribly confusing and wildly entertaining all at the same time (plus, Zsa Zsa Gabor!).

With Thanksgiving just days away, why not shake up the standard and pour some Mourvèdre for the family? Sage stuffing, canned cranberry mold, roasted bird, sweet potato – it’ll probably work with much of the meal, even if your home cooking is somewhat lacking. It will certainly make the football more fun (unless you enjoy watching the Bears lose by 30) (and I’m from Chicago, so, no, I don’t).

For more information, please visit us

http://www.kazzit.com/