The case for lockdown

Lockdown meant resorting to raiding the cellar…

Lockdown meant resorting to raiding the cellar…

I left London just before the lockdown was imposed across the UK. I was intending to spend a long weekend in Birmingham staying with the in-laws, using this as a base for final viewings and arrangements for my wedding celebrations in the Cotswolds in the summer.

The ‘long weekend’ is now six weeks, and counting.

The four bottles of wine I’d brought up lasted (predictably) four days and now the reality set in of an indeterminate period of extended lockdown dawned. Not only did I have barely a weekend’s worth of clothing to my name, my cellar* now seemed very far away.

The in-laws’ cellar** had some supplies: a few odds and ends stocked up for the soon-to-be-cancelled Easter holiday; six cases of Chianti we’d got at a good price before Brexit for our soon-to-be-cancelled summer wedding party; several dark green bottles of home-made elderflower ‘wine’; and several clear glass demijohns of dark golden liquid of indeterminate provenance. Clearly home-made, and once upon a time, paper stickers had graced the outsides of the demijohns, presumably informing the future prospective consumer of exactly what they were letting themselves in for. All that remained now were some slightly less dusty rectangles on the necks of the jars. We eliminated cider – the bungs were still intact and the contents of the jars remained, well, in the jars (apparently this was not the case with the last cider experiment). So we concluded either apple juice or home-made Midlands wine.

Lockdown desperation – would we have to resort to sampling the contents of these mysterious demijohns found in the cellar…?

Lockdown desperation – would we have to resort to sampling the contents of these mysterious demijohns found in the cellar…?

My cellar seemed even further away.

In those early days of lockdown it was unclear what we were allowed to do – were shops allowed to open? did they have any stock left? were we allowed to go out to them? were they still delivering? I turned to my tried and true supplier of an enormous range of wine at extremely reasonable prices, and with nationwide delivery – the Wine Society. Closed. Eh? Closed?? I checked several sources and read the fine print on their notice but it was true. The warehouse could not be made ‘safe’ for their workers and they were unable to fulfil any orders at this stage.

I tried some of my other usual suspects. Most of which were open and delivering quite happily – the smaller outfits seemingly more adaptable to the new constraints we found ourselves under – but… they were all London-based and charging a mildly extortionate amount for delivery to the Midlands.

Time to get creative.

After a long period of searching online and cross-referencing locations with google maps I came across Loki (like the mischief-maker) – a local establishment with a pair of wine bars (closed, naturally) and a bottle shop. Quick to adapt to the new situation, they were now doing free local delivery of their wines with a very reasonable minimum spend. Their selection was small yet focused, and richly eclectic (my sort of wine list!) and to make life even easier, they had put together a series of mixed cases. I chose the ‘Discovery Box’ of six wines for £90; it was delivered a couple of days later, wine-crisis averted, and we were spared learning the identity of the demijohns (for another week or so…).

* actually, wardrobe

** a genuine cellar

The wines

The selection of wines was extremely eclectic – there were some firsts for me in this – and I appreciated them all in different ways. The individual per-bottle prices (which I note on my Wine Reviews page) are perhaps a little on the pricey side. But, the price of the mixed case overall I feel was very fair. A good incentive to try something new.

Full reviews are available here, and below I list the wines in order with my favourite first (though not necessarily the highest scoring wines first). Scores are using my Quality | Value | X-factor metric out of 10. You can read more about my approach here.

A curious (delicious!) amphora-vinified red blend from Rocim in Portugal.

A curious (delicious!) amphora-vinified red blend from Rocim in Portugal.

‘Fresh From Amphora’ by Rocim 2018, Alentejo, Portugal. I loved this light, dry red wine from Alentejo in Portugal. Gently aromatic – sour cherry, blackberry, earthy, fresh juniper – a little bit like a light, delicate Syrah. The wine is vinified from indigenous Portuguese varieties in clay amphorae. This gives it wonderful, fine tannins with a beautiful textural feel on the palate. A moderate length finish and my favourite feature is the low alcohol (11.5%) – rare for a dry red wine that still has lots of ripeness and not a hint of tart sourness. Score: 8/10 (Q 3 | V 2 | X 3).

Domaine Sylvain Gaudron produces this semi-sweet Vouvray, made from Chenin Blanc in the Loire Valley, France.

Domaine Sylvain Gaudron produces this semi-sweet Vouvray, made from Chenin Blanc in the Loire Valley, France.

Domaine Sylvain Gaudron Demi-Sec Vouvray 2015, Loire, France. A textbook example. Vouvray is an appellation in the Loire Valley, France, which makes white wines from Chenin Blanc. Aromatically complex; notes of quince paste, russet apple tarte tatin, lemon zest, honey. There’s amazing concentration in this wine and it goes on and on and on. It’s 5 years old already and will continue to age for a lot longer. This wine wasn’t my favourite solely because it was a little sweet for my taste – although that is quite normal for these wines. Score: 9/10 (Q 4 | V 2 | X 3).

‘Ocean’ by Idaia Winery, on Crete, Greece.

‘Ocean’ by Idaia Winery, on Crete, Greece.

‘Ocean’ by Idaia Winery 2018, Crete, Greece. Fascinating wine for me; I’ve had very few wines from Crete. This one is made from the Thrapasathiri grape – indigenous to the island. Very appealing nose: lemon cheesecake, daisies, lilies, herbal hints as well. A smooth, dry wine with lovely concentration and a refreshing tartness on the palate. Only gets marked down for a high-ish per bottle price (£18) but a lot more reasonable in the mixed case. Score: 7/10 (Q 3 | V 1 | X 3).

One of Greece's signature red varieties - Agiorgitiko. Made by Gaia winery in Nemea.

One of Greece's signature red varieties - Agiorgitiko. Made by Gaia winery in Nemea.

Agiorgitiko by Gaia 2017, Nemea, Greece. Another Greek special: Agiorgitiko (‘St George’s grape’) is a traditional red variety from the Nemea region of the Peloponnese peninsula. Quite full-bodied – a rich and robust wine. Extremely appealing nose – needs decanting to allow the spicy oaky notes to blow off and allow the notes of blueberry jam, black olive, rosemary and cured meats to come through. A little low on acid for my taste. Score: 6/10 (Q 2 | V 1 | X 3).

Teran - an indigenous red variety found in Croatia. This example made by Kozlovic.

Teran - an indigenous red variety found in Croatia. This example made by Kozlovic.

Kozlovic Teran 2018, West Istria, Croatia. This is a first for me in multiple levels. My first Croatian wine, and my first wine made from the Teran grape, which is native to West Istria in Croatia. Very interesting experience; I didn’t love this wine, although others around the table did. I would have liked a bit more complexity. The nose was very fruit-forward (doris plum, blackberry), but there was an appealing succulence and tangyness to the palate. Very fine, ‘sticky’ tannins. Score: 5/10 (Q 2 | V 1 | X 2).

‘Vitese’ white made from Zibibbo grapes in Sicily.

‘Vitese’ white made from Zibibbo grapes in Sicily.

Colomba Bianca ‘Vitese’ 2019, Sicily, Italy. Another textbook example. This time of Zibibbo from Sicily. Zibibbo is known more commonly as Muscat of Alexandria and has typical grapey and orange blossom aromas. This wine did not disappoint and was a very well made example of the grape. Very characterful wine that went well with Thai green curry! Score: 7/10 (Q 2 | V 2 | X 3).