33 minute read
HERCULES wines
Sarah Dodd and Mia, Sandwich, September 2021 Is this the most popular woman in Sandwich?
Advertisement
Sarah Dodd is pleased to have a roof over her head, because it wasn’t always the case at her previous premises.
“You’d be sitting there and the wind would get up – it would lift the roof panels and unfortunately not always put them back in the right place,” she remembers. “You’d have a gap in the ceiling and have to call the landlord to get him to put them back again.
“You can imagine if it was pouring with rain and it comes through the ceiling and hits cardboard boxes overnight. Now I can lie in bed on a stormy night and not have to worry that the roof is still on.”
In January, Sarah relocated from a warehouse in the quaintly named Moat Sole, in the middle of Sandwich, to a shop just around the corner on a busy shopping street. The move marked the latest chapter in the history of a business that has seen its share of twists and turns over the years.
It started in 2006, when a vet called Andrew Lomax opened the warehouse in Sandwich. One of his suppliers was the now-defunct HwCg (an amalgam of Hedley Wright and Castle Growers). It was while working for HwCg that Sarah met her future husband Kevin; the couple married in 2007.
Growing restless in his HwCg role, Kevin saw potential in the fledgling Hercules business and eventually bought it outright, with Sarah joining the company two years
Is this the most popular woman in Sandwich?
Everybody in the tiny Kent town seems to know who Sarah Dodd is. Even when she takes time out for a quick dip in the sea, locals want to discuss their wine orders with her. Graham Holter pays a visit
wines. Sometimes he would buy a wine that was absolutely stunning and it would probably be a lot easier to sell it these days, because the world has got smaller and people are a lot more aware of different grape varieties etcetera. He was perhaps a little bit before his time.
I think I’ve kept going along the lines that, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.
later. Things went well enough for a second branch, in Faversham, to emerge.
Kevin, who spent 11 years in the army before embarking on a career in the wine trade, was an accomplished musician and a keen golfer; a funny and gentle man whose sudden death in 2018 robbed the wine trade of one of its most likeable personalities.
Despite this, Sarah was determined to soldier on, though it made sense to offload the Faversham shop. “It was very expensive to service, and it was staffed seven days a week,” she says. “The rates were horrendous. It was fine when everyone was in place, everything worked beautifully, but if someone phoned in sick I had a problem because I can’t be in two places at once.”
The new shop occupies a space that has been inhabited by other wine retailers in the past, as well as a brewery. The main sales area is open plan, with boxes of fastmoving lines stacked on the floor. To the rear, a former storage area serves as the home of European wines; a smaller room, just off the central space, does the same job for new world wines.
Is it fair to say that, as a double act, you were more concerned with the actual business and Kevin was more involved in the wine side of things?
Yes. I’d always done the accounts and the admin, which I really enjoy. Obviously when Kev went I had to take over the buying. I don’t always get it right. I can struggle with the ordering and there are occasions where I just throw my hands in the air. Our suppliers are wonderful, they are very good.
Have you evolved the range or is it essentially the same kinds of wines that Kevin used to buy?
Kev was a fantastic taster, he really was. He knew his left bank from his right bank and with Australia he could pinpoint if it was, say, Barossa or another region. He cut his teeth on German wines when he was in the army, so he was pretty good on Germanic
If Kevin walked in now, would there be anything in the range that would make him say, “why did you buy that?” or is it all stuff he’d recognise or appreciate?
I think he’d be pretty happy. He might ask why I hadn’t got a couple of wines.
We used to do one from ABS but I haven’t done a huge amount with them recently. It was a fantastic wine called The Pepper Pot [from David Finlayson in Stellenbosch], he was always quite fond of that. But I think on the whole he’d be pretty happy.
Continues page 44
New world wines have their own dedicated room
From page 43
Which suppliers do you work with the most?
I do quite a lot with Boutinot on house wines for the trade accounts. They are a wonderful company to work with. Most of our suppliers are pretty darn good. North South I like. I think we first dealt with them with the ripasso wines, from Girelli, who both Kev and I worked with at HwCg. So when Girelli moved to North South we started dealing that way rather than shipping direct.
When did you join Vindependents?
I think Kev got in very early. It works really well for us. I like their wines and they’ve got a very good team there.
I didn’t get to the tasting [in September] purely because we’re down on staff numbers at the moment. Also they’ve stopped our high speed train that would go straight through. They go to so much effort to put these tastings on, but I just couldn’t make the time.
Do you ship anything direct?
Kevin Dodd: an astute taster
In April I put my toe back in the water, thinking that everything would be ticketyboo and hunky dory and I think it was five weeks from ordering before the wine reached bond from Burgundy. It was infuriating – I can walk to the end of the road and see France.
Like so many indies, you did well with deliveries during lockdown. Did you pick up new customers, and have you hung on to them?
Yes, we were inundated. I think that evening, when the whole nation was sat there watching Boris speak, all I could hear was my email pinging with orders from the website. It really took me by surprise and completely floored me.
There were quite a lot of names I didn’t
demographics?
I wouldn’t know what the population of Sandwich is [it’s just under 5,000] but it’s probably bigger than you think.
One thing I’ve really noticed in the past year is the number of people that have relocated from London. It’s great because there’s a lovely influx of a younger generation. Sandwich was very much a retirement place and it’s almost rejuvenated the town, it’s been lovely to see. We’ve got a few writers around here.
Pre-Covid it was a bit tired, I think. There were a lot people who had holiday homes here, particularly on the bay, but there are some very, very good schools around here. There are some great grammar schools in Dover, there’s a very good independent school in Ramsgate. There
know and the next day the telephone didn’t stop. I did choose not to open the door. I thought that was morally a little bit wrong, if the government was saying “stay home, stay safe”, and I was saying, “come out and shop”. I think that was the same with everybody. We all operated behind closed doors.
We picked up a lot of customers, and lost a few – as soon as the supermarkets opened, they went back to buying from there.
Out of the people I supply in the village now, I know one of them was with the Sunday Times Wine Club. She said that she got so angry with them, and so she’s stayed with me.
How would you summarise Sandwich in terms of its population and
are some independent traders, which is always lovely. The London guys are used to shopping in their little circle, in their independent shops, and they’ve come here and carried on doing that.
We’ve got a fantastic butcher around the corner. We haven’t got a fishmonger but there is one who comes in on market day. The market is brilliant, with good stalls, so it’s very busy.
Is there a villagey kind of feel?
My brother lives in Cambridge and he was down a couple of weeks back and he said it feels like the sort of place where people say hello to you. Well, it is, because I know most people anyway and people if they don’t know my name, they say hello, it’s the wine lady. I think it’s a lovely town.
I was down at Sandwich Bay with the
Sarah Dodd has hung on to some of the new customers acquired during lockdown
Sandwich is a medieval town with a population of just under 5,000
dog on Saturday and had a little swim. I bumped into a customer who said, “oh, glad I’ve seen you, is there any chance I could have a case of wine?” So wherever I am, even if I’m walking the dog in the morning, villagers will say hello, and start asking about the wine they’re going to buy from me.
Not surprisingly, your wholesale trade declined during lockdown. Is it on the way up again?
Yes, it’s doing really well. At the moment I have three accounts in Sandwich and one in Deal. I can service them easily but anything outside of that I am going to struggle because of staffing at the moment.
I used to get – same as everybody, I should think – CVs through all the time, about two or three a week, but there’s been nothing. I wonder if when the furlough scheme ends that will get people out looking again.
How many people are there in the team now?
There’s me, Mia [the labrador] and John who does two days a week and Iain who does two days a week. Dan, bless his cotton socks, has been with us on and off since 2013-14 and his other job is signwriting. He decided in June to make a go of that full time, so I’ve said to him the door is always open and if it goes a bit quiet he can give me a shout and come back again. He’s a great bloke, he did the social media and newsletters.
Mia is an absolute asset because as soon as people walk in, they say, “isn’t she gorgeous?” She’s a real icebreaker. She’s so good with children and she loves everybody.
Continues page 46
From page 45
Do you find that social media and newsletters are still important to you? You seem so embedded in the town, maybe they’re not necessary.
I think people do come to us, but I don’t think it’s a bad thing to keep plugging and sending the odd email out to remind people that we’re still here. I think word of mouth helps. If you give customers a good service they will always come back – and I think we give really good service.
How many days are you in here?
I’m always popping in and out because I do all the deliveries, which actually I really enjoy doing because you get to see all the customers. I’m covering holiday at the moment. John and his family are farmers and they’ve just finished hop picking.
Are you doing tastings at the moment? I haven’t started those back up yet. I was talking to one of our suppliers the other day and he said that outside of his day job he was a member of a local wine society and they’d had to cancel the tasting they hadplannedbecause people didn’t fancy it.
We do quite often have a bottle open on a Saturday.
There’s a nice no-frills, warehousey feel to the main retail area.
Originally this was Unwins, then it was a Threshers, then Strand Wines had it for a little bit, and then it was a clothes shop. In the old Threshers days, it was really dark, with all that dark wood that Threshers did. Strand stripped everything out.
The warehouse was big, but we can get everything in here and just spread out over three rooms. I didn’t have to de-list anything. When you have a blank canvas, it’s amazing how much you can fit in.
Coming from a warehouse into a shop, we had to get a happy medium, and hopefully that is what we have achieved. You want people to come in and not think, “hmm, they’re ripping the pants out of me”. You want to give a good honest price.
Kev always said he didn’t want to do that “buy six and get another six free” thing – that smacks of charging too much in the first place. Occasionally you can have a little promotion, but just put the wines out at an honest price.
Being out here in the wilds of east Kent, do you still feel that you are connected to the wine trade in a broader sense?
No. It’s funny, isn’t it? Maybe when I get back to the tastings I will feel reconnected. I still see people [at tastings] that I knew from the trade when I first started. People don’t tend to leave the wine trade.
Maybe we are out on a bit of a limb here.
Are you happy with where the business is now? What will you do next?
I’m happy with the way it is. I’d always intended to retire at 50, then it became 55 and now I’m staring 60 – I’ve been in the wine trade too long.
The one thing I would love to do is to go and live on a Scottish island for six months. Not to be the only person on it, but to experience that island living. I think that would be an interesting thing to experience.
Many years ago I travelled in the Outback, and that was almost like living on an island because it was so remote.
If I sold the business, that would be it because I feel I’ve done my bit for queen and country and the taxman. I would miss my customers. You get to know them. It’s a good business to be in; you do meet some lovely people.
. THE DRAYMAN .
Auf wiedersehen, pet food
John Hickling’s brewing career nearly ended up as a dog’s dinner. Thankfully, he changed course and created Vocation Brewery
The pet nutrition world could have been very different after John Hickling sold his stake in Nottingham’s Blue Monkey Brewing to the uncle with whom he’d cofounded it. He’d lost his mojo for brewing and kicked around various new business ideas, including dog food.
“I felt I’d taken beer as far as I could,” he says. “I took a year off. But I realised I really missed brewing and I’d made a big error. It was my vocation in life, not just a job.”
In 2015, he relocated to Hebden Bridge, West Yorkshire, where he’d previously worked in IT for a bank, and created Vocation Brewery, now one of the foremost players in modern British brewing. Pet food’s loss has been beer’s gain.
Pack design is a driving force in the craft beer scene and, six years on, Vocation is rebranding its range, which is a good moment to get Hickling’s take on that whole craft beer look thing – where it comes from and how it works – but he’s keen to get one point clear first.
“The beer is the most important thing to us,” he says. “People are sometimes suspicious that craft beer is more about the branding, but for us the beer is absolutely number one. We want to make it look great to do justice to the beer.”
The Vocation revamp has moved from a relatively uniform look of black cans with beer names picked out from a small palette of colours, to one where each brew has a different base colour field, from a broader and brighter suite of hues. A different illustrated V motif tells something of the story of the beer name – casino imagery for Naughty & Nice Chocolate Stout, for example, or Cupid and a snarling tiger for Love & Hate New England IPA.
“The idea with the new look is that the illustration expresses the personality of the beer. The brewery is about endless creatively, so the look gives each brand its own feel. The illustrations can be anything, so we’re never going to run out of options.
“Traditional beers might have wheatsheaves and shields, which is fine because it tells you what to expect, but we can’t do that. It wouldn’t make sense on an American-style big hop pale ale.”
Like many in the business, Hickling is reluctant to exploit the word “craft”, with all its definitional baggage, but there’s no denying that Vocation’s beers have what might be called “the craft beer look”, difficult though that is to pin down. What does John himself think it is?
“There’s a lot of variation – some commission artwork, others go typography heavy. The contents of the can are what matters the most, but you have to persuade people to try a beer for the first time. “If you’re a traditional brewery you tend to hark back to the past and say we’ve been doing this for a very long time. But if you’re starting a brewery now it would be totally dishonest to fall back on that. “Sometimes with modern beer the branding can prevent you from being creative with the beer, but I don’t want to restrict our brewers and have the branding hold them back. “The design shouldn’t stand in the way of creativity. We want our brewers to keep coming up with new stuff.”
What do you want? No, really, what is it that you want? I am reading. I am reading in one of those insatiable book love affairs that come around every couple of years and leave little space for anything else. I have a type: last time it was Dos Passos’ USA Trilogy, this time it’s Paul Auster’s 4321. My type seems to be Big-American-Booksthat-No-one-else-has-Read. Woe betide you if you pretend that you have: the first time I was barred from the Mòran Mór was because some dork was claiming to have read DeLillo’s Underworld.
I am drained. I am confused. I have no time for any Amazing Lunches. I can’t. Stop. Reading.
A couple of months back there was this thing that happened with a canoe and Loch Lomond and these two storms slowly coming together and skipping in the air, and the line between skull–based electrical impulses and external electrical stuff became increasingly fuzzy. I tried to write about it at the time and couldn’t, it was too much and not enough and as we all know words are the thing that separate us, anyway. I came to the conclusion that it was just this thing that happened, man, with the Loch all punch-sequinned with rain and the charged enveloping mist and the exhilarating questionable self/notself boundary. I filed it under “talk about it to the recommended by excellent Temp Kirsty. Appearance: opaque, frighteningly grey (no the colour isn’t great, but you’re not painting your house with it, crikey, what a mess and pongo!). Nose: pronounced sharp cheesiness. Palate: dry, med+ acidity, ripe, smooth, fine-grained. Pronounced peppery kick with delicious undertones of processed cheese slice; moreish. Buy it, eat it, don’t think about how it’s made, right gang ;)? Best served with Chiroubles.
Secondly, Plantain Chips, where have you been all my life? Fans of this column will remember my months in the South Pacific and Tema’s Breadfruit chips *shudder* – which aspired to be these crispy treats. Plantain are full of carbs which make them, technically, one of the food groups that I avoid for an Amazing Lunch, but the Hippy Shop next door stocks them and they are “low in sugar and high in potassium!” and aren’t Piper’s Crisps – which are red-list, obvs. The variety to look for in your local hippy shop are Purely Plantain Wild Garlic but they are not wild garlic, they are wildly garlic, good grief! Some say that they are too salty but potassium actually counteracts the effects of sodium so it’s a bit like when we used to have a joint and a cafetiere of coffee, one negating the other, with the only lasting effect being the erasure of my 20s.
So no, there is no point in anything and that’s OK, but there is the goo and the crisp-a-like and wine – which is more than enough for this fleshbag of electrical impulses.
12. BOOKS
Phoebe Weller of Valhalla’s Goat in Glasgow is currently obtaining most of the nutrition she needs from American literature. But supplements are still required.
customers who dig the interconnectedness of things” but resolved that there’s no point in making the marks on the paper because the marks on the paper can’t actually communicate what the fuck actually happened out there.
But Auster’s written it: end of 2.2, end of story. There is no point any more, everybody put down your pens.
I mean, I say I’ve no time for Amazing Lunches but that’s simply untrue – especially when there’s no point anymore – and there are new Amazing Lunch items that I need to tell you about.
Firstly, St Agoo – St Agur goo, as
Afamily-owned and run Lambrusco producer, Cantina Bassoli was established in 1922, although as winemaker Riccardo explains, “my family has always worked in the fashion business and wine was just our hobby. It was a very small winery and all the grapes were for the co-operative.”
After studying geology at university, Riccardo returned to the family vineyard and is now on a mission to challenge preconceptions of Lambrusco in export markets such as the UK, taking the winery to new heights as he explores new ways of expressing his terroir and his fruit.
“We’ve always produced Lambrusco and Ancestrale [pet nat],” he says. “When I started to work here I decided to do some Charmat. I grew up inside the winery, so I didn’t need technical study with an oenologist.”
Riccardo’s passion for his craft is evident and is the perfect example of how viticulture is constantly evolving, as both a science and an art. “Every year I change something, whether it is yeasts or tannins,” he says.
“Every year I want to try to innovate. But if my grandfather could taste my wines now, he would probably spit in my face! The thinking in the past was totally different. They never imagined exporting the wine, so the wine was made with no commercial thought. The residual sugar levels have dropped over the years: the Ancestrale is zero grams, the metodo classico has a maximum of 8g, and the organic [Ciacaron] is around 4g of sugar.”
The Lambrusco Grasparossa di Castelvetro DOP ‘Ciacaron’ shows off Riccardo’s creativity, with a quirky crown cap, and no disgorgement, and it’s the first of Cantina Bassoli’s wines to be certified organic. “From this year everything will be organic and my big news is I have made my first metodo classico [traditional method] wine. It is 100% Pinot Noir.”
Innovation doesn’t mean rejecting old favourites such as Bassoli’s Ancestrale wines however, particularly given the rising popularity of pet nat wines in the UK and around the world.
Riccardo has always had faith in the quality and reputation of his wines. “I don’t want to spend money to get awards,” he says. “I believe in my wines and they speak for themselves. I believe in what I do every day. I am unique in that I work with French yeast in my region with Lambrusco. I am unique that I have made pet nat white Lambrusco; it doesn’t exist elsewhere.”
Both Ancestrale and modern styles of Lambrusco have a place in the UK market, but Riccardo insists the wine must be tasted if its damaged reputation is to be repaired.
“Nobody in Italy drinks sweet Lambrusco. Here we drink it dry, maybe with a maximum 15g sugar. That is balanced by acidity, especially with Sorbara – it is like a Pinot Noir. Lambrusco is very good with many kinds of cuisine and is easy to understand. If you are at the table with three friends, you can drink two bottles of Chianti, but with Lambrusco you drink four bottles; not because it is Coca-Cola, but because it is convivial.
“In my vineyard I have more than 10 varieties of Lambrusco grapes. The three main ones are Lambrusco di Castelvetro, Sorbara and Salamino di Santa Croce. My tradition, my region, is this one. I really love my region and I really love Lambrusco.”
‘My grandfather would
spit in my face!’
Changing UK perceptions of Lambrusco was never going to be easy. But for Riccardo Bassoli, innovation and creativity are in his blood
Sponsored feature Cantina Bassoli wines are imported into the UK by Marcato Direct 07900 115372 marcatodirect.co.uk
Range highlights
Ciacaron
This six-month Charmat method is an excellent expression of the terroir and is organic for the first time this year. It is round, balanced and easy to drink, with aromas of white berries, pomegranate and black fruits that continue on the palate. It has a dry, clean finish and should be drunk within two and a half years.
Manfreina
For me this is the best Lambrusco and is only produced in this area. There are not many producers of Sorbara because it is strictly connected with the rich terroir. It must be vinified as a rosé and has notes of violet, cherry and raspberry. I want to keep a very pink colour without doing a fast maturation. For me it is my best seller, it is my flagship product.
Ancestrale
I am the only person to produce white Ancestrale (pet nat) Lambrusco. I only produce 3,000 bottles per year. White Lambrusco flooded the UK, but nobody produced a pet nat method wine because it is very difficult. It’s an immediate, clear fermentation and I put it in bottle with yeast from France. It is the best wine, with notes of peach and green apples, excellent with fish and white meat.
Masters of their terroir
The art of fine tuning in winemaking was evident in a flight of wines featured in a recent tasting by the Chilean producer Viu Manent and its UK agent Louis Latour Agencies.
“We did a study of the terroir and it took us five years to understand the connection of the roots with the soil and all the different conditions that give us different styles of wine,” says chief winemaker Patricio Celedón, who led the Zoom event.
“We found we had different sections even in the same block that ripened at different times, so we are now picking the berries and managing the vineyards differently.”
The company’s Sauvignon Blanc Secreto (Casablanca, 2020, RRP £13-£15) is a fresh, vibrant alternative to many Kiwi examples of the variety.
“It comes from one of the closest vineyards to the ocean in Casablanca,” says Celedón. “The main location for vineyards is 25km from the ocean and this is just 11 km away, just into the coastal range. It’s two degrees cooler, so the ripening of this vineyard is 10 days later than most of the region. We obtain a very high natural acidity, with a quite light level of sugar or alcohol. The balance is very good.
“You can feel the proximity to the ocean; there is some salinity on the nose and some sea salt in the mouth. It’s a very fresh Sauvignon with some good depth and texture.”
Ben Fullalove, of Fullaloves in Longridge, Lancashire, was won over. “A lot of my customers are moving away from Marlborough Sauvignon because of the big punchy nature,” he says, “and this more subtle, textured, savoury style, with a little bit of minerality, could be pitched like a Sancerre but at a price closer to the New Zealand that they’re more used to.”
Viu Manent’s Chardonnay Gran Reserva (Colchagua, 2019, RRP £13-£15) was originally made in Casablanca but production moved to Colchagua when the company found a suitable spot in the north west of the region a with very high potential for quality. Grapes are grown in Litueche, 11km from the Pacific coast.
Celedón says: “2019 was a quite warm vintage: you can feel the ripeness on the nose and, in the mouth, it is creamy with a natural acidity. It has a little bit of sea salt flavour in it, similar to the Sauvignon Blanc.”
Fullalove thought it was would have broad appeal. “When I’m asked for a Chardonnay I often have to ask what their preferred style is, as no two Chardonnays are the same anymore. This is a good fresh style with a creamy undertone that would
Masters of their terroir
tick a few boxes.”
ViBo Viñedo Centenario (Colchagua, 2018, RRP £18-£20) is a red blend from old vines on a property planted in 1870.
“It’s a blend of Cabernet Sauvignon and Malbec, 60-40, coming from the oldest vines,” says Celedón. “We first released this wine around eight years ago and, for me, it talks about that history of the old varieties established for over 100 years.
“There is a synergy between Cabernet and Malbec when you taste them separately and when you blend them. It’s a very complex wine with very soft tannins, a good texture and great depth.”
It also has good ageing potential. “We have some Cabernets from 1992, 1996, 1998, and Malbecs from 1996 and 2000, which are still alive.
“The climate conditions have changed a little bit, so we are putting all our efforts into managing the vineyards, to pick earlier and to manage the wine with less new oak, to obtain the same results as we used to. We look for ripeness but we do the fine tuning to allow us to get natural acidity.”
The tasting also showcased a trio of single-vineyard wines, including Carménère Loma Blanca (Colchagua, 2019, RRP £21-£25).
Celedón says: “With all the singlevineyard wines we make the wine in the same way each year, so the only change in the wine is the climate conditions each year. It’s about the way we capture the year in the bottle.
“The Carménère is our third year, but the first two were limited to Chile, so this is the first vintage we are opening up to international markets.
“It’s grown on volcanic soil, which is very interesting; Carménère is normally planted in deep and mixed soils and tends to be over-ripe, in my opinion. If we pick earlier we obtain a Carménère which is thinner but fresher at same time. The volcanic rock is very important to preserve acidity and achieve a better balance.”
Malbec San Carlos (Colchagua, 2018, RRP £21-£25) is another old-vine wine. “The vines have been planted there for 100 years and are adapted to the soil and the climate conditions,” says Celedón. “It is fresh, pure and has a sense of origin.”
The third in the single-vineyard trio was Cabernet Sauvignon La Capilla (Colchagua, 2019, RRP £21-£25).
“The main characteristic is the soil, which is like a sandy beach,” says Celedón, “with a layer of 15-20 cm of volcanic ash that gives a white colour to the surface. That impacts on the vines by reflecting the sun on to the berries, meaning we can obtain very red fruit and the window to pick is very short. Compared to a Cabernet from alluvial soil, it’s very refined. The tannins are softer, not big and round.”
Feature sponsored by Louis Latour
Agencies and Viu Manent. Visit louislatour. co.uk or call 020 7409 7276 for more information about Viu Manent wines.
Douro winemaker Ricardo Macedo was prepared to go a little bit further than most to achieve the results he was after in making still wines at the port producer Kopke.
As the company rebuilt its Quinta de São Luiz winery in the Cima Corgo region to specialise in non-port wines, Macedo took inspiration from some diamond-shaped fermentation vessels he’d seen on a trip to Argentina.
The shape of the tanks allowed the stalks and pips to be removed more easily through gravity, dialling down any green tannin character to produce a fresher, zippier style of wine.
The only problem was that no one back home produced them, so Macedo set about designing his own and collaborated with the Argentine winemaker to perfect them.
“As far as I’m aware these tanks aren’t used anywhere else in Europe,” says Macedo. “When you take time to identify problems and develop something new, you’re always going to keep getting a little better.”
The range made at the table-wine facility is also evolving commercially, with the wines that previously carried the Kopke name now rebranded as São Luiz, with textured white labelling that mirrors the whitewashed stone walls that give the property its visual identity. The bottles carry the tagline Douro Sublinhado, which translates as Douro Underlined.
What we’ll call, for ease of reference, the “entry level” wines are the São Luiz Colheita white and reds (both RRP £12.50£13), with white and red Reserva wines
the perfect blend
Kopke may be best known for its ports, but its still wines, now rebranded under the São Luiz label, are equally impressive examples of Douro winemaking craft. Combining a mesmerising palette of Portuguese varieties, the wines have a vivacity and freshness that shone through at our recent Zoom tasting
marking a next tier at around £22, and a Winemaker’s Collection at £25.
“We’ve decided to enhance the terroir and sense of place of the wines we’re making, which is why we’ve rebranded the table wines,” says export manager João Belo.
“We have our own vineyards where we will pick the fruit for our classic Colheita wines, but we also need to have a great working relationship with a whole bunch of good farmers that sell us their grapes.”
With the rebranding, Viosinho has been brought into the Colheita white blend that also contains three other Portuguese grape varieties. “Viosinho adds complexity,” says Macedo. “It’s a very balanced grape variety that adds creaminess to the fruit profile.
“We’re trying to obtain a classic Douro white: fresh, good acidity and easydrinking.”
The Reserva White has a Viosinho base made from older vines, with around 20% Folgazão in the blend.
“The Folgazão adds delicacy and freshness,” says Macedo.
Taking inspiration from Burgundy, some of the wine is fermented in barriques. “That Burgundian approach with barriques really works in the Douro in adding freshness and zestiness to the wine,” he adds.
There’s also some Arinto in the blend. “If I could choose one grape variety to work with on whites at this time in the Douro it would be Arinto,” says Macedo. “It has that kerosene/petrol character that you might get in Riesling.
“We have a little experiment with 100% Arinto that could be a wine with huge ageing potential. We replanted a vineyard with Arinto which led us to think it has great potential, so we planted even more.”
The Winemaker’s Collection white is a blend of Folgazão and Rabigato. Belo says: “It has three years in used oak which is a long time. After such a long time you might expect it to lose a bit of its liveliness, but we really feel that’s a wine that has subtlety, freshness, acidity and good balance.”
The Colheita Red is a four-way blend of Touriga Nacional, Tinta Franca, Tinta Roriz and Tinto Cão. “They’re four grapes you’ll find in any tawny or ruby port,” says Macedo, “but, when worked in the correct way, they can produce some stunning and complex still wines.”
The Reserva red is a blend of Touriga Nacional and Tinta Roriz, traditionally vintage port varieties.
Belo adds: “We have massive refrigeration storage units where the grapes will stay overnight in what you might call an air-conditioned spa.” This gives the winemakers better control of when vinification starts, allowing them to dictate their own schedule and organise the workload so that wines are produced with the best fruit possible.
Macedo says: “Because we developed this winery just for still wines, we have a much slower rhythm, taking time with each box to remove dehydrated grapes to really get the purity of fruit.
“It’s precision winemaking. That’s perhaps a bit over exaggerated but it’s what we’re trying to achieve here.”
Vinhas Velhas 2017 (RRP £50) is a red blend of old-vine Touriga Nacional and Sousão from a relatively shady site. As a result, production is limited with some Touriga Nacional plants producing only one or two bunches each year. “Sousão doesn’t like too much heat or very dry soil so the micro-climate is perfect for it,” says Macedo. “It’s a long fermentation – malolactic, in barriques. After racking the wines stay in the same barriques for 16 months minimum. There’s a menthol, eucalyptus, orange blossom character and the Sousão adds some freshness. “With the range as a whole we are trying to make a completely terroir-driven range to understand and show what São Luiz is all about.”
Feature sponsored by UK importer
Hayward Bros and Sogevinus. Visit haywardbros.co.uk or call 020 7237 0576 for more information about São Luiz wines.
