SomethingToDo2

Question time. What do the following have in common? Hints of hot terra cotta tiles, herbal tobacco in the middle, Plasticine, some iron and bark, some dry dirt earthiness, a rustic smell, old cedar chest spiciness, smoke, coal dust, dry dirt, wet stones, dried cow pat and brick dust.

If you answered something along the lines of a country building site, you’d be right on the money. Not.

Actually, perhaps if I’d thrown in pear skin, dried plums, citrus notes, floral nose, berries, chocolate, banana, lime, guava skin, blackcurrant and pith, you’d have guessed that it was something to do with wine … or not.

But all of those tastes-smells, yes even the dried cow pat, have been in wine reviews that I have read at one time or another, I kid you not. Pith? Gives a whole new meaning to being on the pith.

I have this theory that there are wine writers who liberally lace their reviews with such things to sound, well, pompous in the way that James May (of Top Gear) often describes wine expert Oz Clarke in the always-entertaining Oz and James’ Great Wine Adventure on the telly.

It is a theory I have discussed long and hard with the most excellent wine writer Jane Faulkner. Sure, I’ve sat with Jane, shared the odd bottle or so over dinner, and done the smell-taste test and come up with things that I’d never thought I would (she found more, of course, but she’s bloody good at it), but when it comes to the everyday test, I don’t know a soul (wine writers notwithstanding) who ever do anything more than have a cursory sniff, a quick taste and then say: “I like this” or “I don’t like this”.

I reckon I should know given that I’ve spent enough of my hard-earned on wine at Lina’s Wine Bar in Albert Park, Melbourne (another story for another day). Contrary to what many may think, I also have a reasonable circle of (sometimes unreasonable) wine-drinking friends, all of the “yes-no” persuasion.

All of which brings me to a what-to-do-tonight scenario given that it may involve wine.

If you’re looking for a bottle of really decent white at around 20 bucks (OK, it’s $21.45) you could do so, so much worse than grabbing a bottle of 2007 Chateau Nicot (Bordeaux) sauvignon-semillon blend.

It really goes so much easier than some of the over-the-top-with-fruit, mouth-stripping blends from across the ditch in New Zealand … I always think of them having the same effect on the palate as would a glass of Draino or sucking on a lemon.

The Chateau Nicot smells good, is pretty easy (read soft) in the mouth, tastes a treat and I always hanker for a second bottle when the first has gone. It’s got a cork stopper (I kinda like the screwtop) and the label (it’s in French) won’t do your chances any harm if, say, you were having dinner with a special friend. Beyond that, it’s great when you’re thirsty.

And while it may lead to someone expressing some bullshit (the drinker’s curse), there’s not so much as a hint of cow pat anywhere.

The details: The 2007 Chateau Nicot (Bordeaux) sauvignon-semillon is available at Randall’s. Based in Victoria, but you can order online throughout Australia.

It’s also available as part of a summery dozen offered by Wine Station that also includes pear cider.