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RWC Madeira Savannah Verdelho

Least Favorite of the Best
Verdelho might be my least favorite Madeira grape, through no fault of its own. There’s little to dislike about the grape, seeing as it grows on Madeira, has a slightly sweet and mostly nutty flavor, and works with all kinds of foods – more foods in fact, than most grapes on the market.

Not quite taking on Molten Lava Chocolate Cake
And yet, Verdelho doesn’t seem to have a very strong or clear identity. Of the four noble Madeira grapes – Sercial, Verdelho, Bual and Malmsey – the first and last have clear identities that mark them as the ends of the Madeira spectrum. Sercial has that really nutty dryness going on, and Malmsey has to be one of the truly great grapes in the world. Seriously, I still haven’t found another grape that holds up to the molten lava chocolate cake… and wins.

Process of Elimination
Bual’s a pretty delicious grape too. Granted, it’s not KO’ing any seriously bad-for-you desserts but it’s sweet and complex, and comes in lots of styles from quite a few producers. Tinta Negra Mole has that under-dog image going for it since it’s not in the noble grape category, Bastardo has a name that just makes you want to love it, Moscatel’s all around goodness and Terrantez is really close to going extinct so it’s important to fight for it, even if its taste isn’t the greatest (sample size 1). So sorry, Verdelho – you’re nutty and complex, but it’s just not enough to avoid being the least favorite Madeira grape. Good thing you still beat most of the wines on the market.

Taste
Figs, burnt caramel, custard and brown sugar on the nose. Nutty and almonds but slightly sweet on the taste. Chewy and dry finish, with back of the mouth salivating and cleansing refresher on the tongue and teeth – how Zeus would brush his teeth.

Detail Up!
Rare Wine Company Historic Series – Savannah Verdelho Madeira in Madeira, Portugal

Random Googles:
* Australia has a long history of producing Verdelho in nearly all wine-producing parts of the country, where it has more of a honeysuckle and lime flavor than its European brethren.
* Verdelho is one of 82 permitted grape varieties in Port, and even makes the cut into the “Recommended” grapes for Port.
* Star Mixologists can even use Verdelho Madeira in creating their drinks

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Top 10 Dessert Wines
Time for a break, a year-end break from the countdown to 1,000. Because 2011 already has lots of Top 10 lists but doesn’t have a single one devoted to Dessert Wines. Because even the 12 days of Christmas need a break (Five GOLDEN rings!!!) before we get really excited about that partridge in the pear tree end of the song. Because 2011 had a snowstorm in October. And because this year, the year of the 2011, there is much to celebrate. Yankees losing to the Tigers in the Playoffs, dictators out of much of the Islamic world (hint hint Bashar), the expansion of the Peruvian food empire into New York City and lots of family visits and visiting family. Yup, a pretty good recap of the year… except:

Dessert Wines – simply the best
We haven’t even touched dessert wines yet. And dessert wines are really the pinnacle of wines. The wine that comes after the wine. The wine that led alpha men and kings to war, got them killed and then left all the beta men to mate with the hot-blooded Helens of Troy and Bernices left behind. Realistically though, dessert wine has created more widows than Samuel L. Jackson.

So, for 2011’s Top 10 List of Dessert Wines please see below. Note that these are dessert wines tasted in 2011, by participants alive in 2011 and that none of these wines were created in 2011. Many were harvested years or even decades ago, and some of the craftsmen may no longer be with us. Their memory lives on however, and we pour out a (minute) splash for them in memory of their contribution to the dessert wine culture of the world.

#10) Bethany Old Quarry Fronti (Barossa, Australia)
All kinds of conradictions come up in this sweet White Port. Starting right there, “White Port” doesn’t really resonate. Port is this thick, dark wine from Portugal that comes at the end of the night with fat-cat cigars or strinky blue cheese. It’s not from Australia and not clear. Most certainly it’s not white. And yet, this White Port from Barossa, Australia shines as an excellent type of the kind of lighter style White Port that can sometimes be found. Granted it’s the minority of the Ports that are out there and the Portuguese will be squawking that it’s not a true Port because the Aussies crafted it outside Portugal but for memorable sips of sweet oranges, this is an extremely reliable reminder to try new styles.

#9) Late Harvest Riesling – Josef Vineyard 2009 by Hermann J. Weimer Vineyard (Finger Lakes, New York)
Parents usually lose the ability to create memories for their children sometime around the time they purchase their kids that first 10-speed bike. And what parent doesn’t crave those halcyon, pre-teen days? Fortunately, there’s a memory bottle parents can purchase for their children. This potion comes in a long green bottle filled with sweet citrus, green apples and fresh summer days. Best enjoyed on a summer afternoon in the Finger Lakes in the company of said memory-generating parents, it’s also available in most NYC wine stores. Even Fresh Direct has a non-dessert version of the wine.

#8) Ferrari Carano Eldorado Noir 2010 Russian River Valley Black Muscat (Sonoma, California)
When in a cellar, the rule is: avoid being surprised. But for every Cask-of-Amontillado-esque rule, there’s an exception, and Eldorado Noir happens to be that cellar exception. Only available at the Ferrari Carano cellar since it’s made from one rare type of Muscat grape and the cellar people drink most of it, this is a wine that makes you rethink Muscat wine. Sure, it’s fizzy in Moscato d’Asti and smells like all kinds of grapes in Muscat d’Alexandria but this Muscat is that ugly duckling come to swan. Nothing golden nor shiny in this one – it’s black on black. Black color on black raspberry, that is. But when the ugly duckling comes sliding down the glass and you pop a chocolate covered blueberry into your mouth, you’re in heaven. In that moment, no Muscat, nay – no wine, can compare with the decadence of swimming around the duckling lagoon in Boston with a blueberry in one’s mouth and a sweet song in one’s Black Eldorado Heart.

#7) Inniskillin Vidal Ice Wine – 2006 (Niagara, Canada)
When you grow up in the frozen northern regions, you’re used to the cold. You do stupid things like winter camping – outdoors, with no tent, on the ground with a good sleeping bag and a tarp to keep you dry and allow you to melt the snow into a coccoon of warmth. At least, that’s the theory. You walk out onto Lake Michigan during the frozen months, you wear t-shirts when the weather gets above zero degrees celsius and you generally try to catch pneumonia as often as possible. But out of all those stupid, really cold months come some true moments of bliss. The sun blinds you through a million icicles all refracting light into tiny rainbows on the snow, adn you catch flashes of green and purple in between the snow that tells you spring is coming even before the first robin shows up. In between all those stupid, snowy moments, there are people out in those temperatures with frozen fingers and frost-bitten noses who are harvesting and pressing grapes to mash into ethereal golden droplets. This million icicle wine is Ice Wine and nobody does it better and more consistently than Inniskillin.

#6) Lustau Península Palo Cortado Sherry (Jerez, Spain)
There’s no forgetting that first love. The one who you watched stars with or drove around in the pickup with for hours because the mall wasn’t really calling to either of you. Even when she’s more memory than flesh, more forgotten lyric than stable chorus, she remains your first love. Because she’s the one who taught you how to kiss and not tell, how to try out new things that you just plain hated, and what to say when nothing else made sense. Because that’s sherry, or at least my experience with it. Awful in many regards, and just plain icky in many others, but then there’s that one that doesn’t have cooties and smiles at you and you actually enjoy it. Palo Cortado from Lustau became that first love this year. Full of nuts, pecans and a bit of citric fun – this is a standout wine (not just Sherry, a standout wine). And that’s not because of the fascinating chemistry of Palo Cortado. And that’s not because of the unbeatable pairing of Palo Cortado and Old Amsterdam cheese, which must be my favorite pairing of 2011, hands down. This is because Sherry became something more than a cooties-infecting beverage, and you never forget your first Sherry.

#5) Commandaria Keo St. John (Troodos Mountains, Cyprus)
The discovery that Cyprus makes wine shocked me a bit this year. So, I bought a bottle and was shocked again when their wine turned out to be really delicious and have huge flavors of raisins. Combine that with intriguing historical anecdotes and it’s a dessert wine that deserves its status among the Top 10 of the year. Still haven’t tried other wines from Cyprus but am quite excited to see if they match this first one.

#4) Taylor Fladgate 10 Year Tawny Port (Douro Valley, Portugal)
All brothers should visit Portugal. Because when brothers visit Portugal, they discover Oporto, a beautiful city in the north of the country that sits on both sides of the Douro River. And when brothers discover Oporto, they discover one side of that Douro River that has nothing but port lodges on one side. And in those port lodges, enormous tanks full of sweet, ancient port reside so someday a brother can buy a bottle for their brother, making him exceedingly happy. This Taylor 10 Year Port was the welcome-home bottle that we opened because it was his favorite of the trip. Silky and long-lasting was how I remembered the wine but sometimes evenings and wines blend together so much it’s hard to say whether one’s truly objective. Taylor 10 Year is etched forever as the Brother Timmy Welcome Wine. Drank on the day of the October Blizzard with ice cream and nothing but ice cream for dinner.

#3) Madeira Blandy’s 5 Year Malmsey (Madeira, Portugal)
Everyday bottles of wine are extraordinarily difficult to find. It’s not like you just grab a cold beer from the fridge and 12 ounces later, the bottle’s empty. With wine, it’s 750ml so you better have a friend or two to assist on that bottle. If you cook for one, you’re looking at maybe one bottle a week. And committing to one bottle for a week causes commitment-phobes moderate angst. So, there’s the Bota Box method that works for long-term delivery. And there’s the Madeira method. Madeira, fortunately, doesn’t go bad. Ever. Wines will change after even a few days and even ports will start changing after a week, a month, who knows – but point being, they start to go bad too. Madeira just never does, and this Malmsey Madeira is my go-to Madeira. It’s sweet, cuts through chocolate cake like an acidic buzz saw and you can enjoy a glass on any day of the year. In a year of becoming slightly more obsessed with madeira, this staple in the cabinet is a Top 10 Dessert Wine.

#2) Tokaji Aszu 5 Puttonyos “Red Label,” Royal Tokaji – 2007 (Tokaj, Hungary)
James Joyce once narcissistically stated that if Dublin disappeared from the face of the earth, it could be recreated just based on the description from his novels. One taste of this rightfully-famous dessert wine from Hungary, and you’re already recreating an apricot in your mind, you’re wishing you could sail away in a flying apricot next to James and his Giant Peach because you know that your Giant Apricot is rocking the melody and James and his Giant Peach are the harmonizing vocals on this dessert wine.

#1) Madeira Rare Wine Company Charleston Sercial (Madeira, Portugal)
Madeira is fast turning into an obsession, even though I’ve only started scratching the surface of the incredible elixir known as Madeira. So when there was the chance to try the Sercial style of Madeira (the driest and lightest of the four typical styles), I jumped. What was supposed to be an afternoon of watching Buster Keaton with my brother became an afternoon of trying out numerous wines, the most built-up of which was the Sercial Madeira. Fortunately, the Sercial Madeira is a Taj Mahal of wines. By that I mean (borrowing poorly from Rushdie), that despite all the hype and the stories and the build-up of Sercial Madeira, the actual, physical “thing-in-itself” exceeds the mythology and the liquid in the glass is itself a transfixing, memorable experience. Share that type of experience with a brother visiting from Minnesota at the beginning of a long day of creating stories for future decades, and Sercial develops a new layer of mythology for future generations.

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Bual v. Boal – Nobody Cares
Bual or Boal, there doesn’t seem to be a wrong answer. Brits call it Bual, the Portuguese call it Boal, but since the Brits have been intimately involved with Madeira since about the time of the previous Elizabeth, people don’t seem to care much. Both names are used to identify the second-sweetest grape grown on the island of Madeira (#1 sweetest grape is here), which is off the coast of Morocco but is very much Portuguese.

Madeira off Morocco
Why is Madeira a part of Portugal? Partially due to Portugal’s glory days back in the 16th century when its caravels (thank Sid Meier’s Civilization for that term) roamed the world, dropping in on Goa, Angola, Mozambique, Rio and Malacca. Partially due to the same reason that England controls the Falkland Islands just off the tip of Antarctica – they’re willing to fight anybody (especially Argentina’s 1982 junta) to remain in control of those islands.

Confession Time
But back to Bual – it’s not exactly my favorite. There – it’s confessed. Despite making Madeira, which is categorically awesome and having loads of fans in the tiny world of Madeira lovers, Bual always seems to be too over-the-top to me. He’s the guy who responds to the email list after the conversation’s over with that one extra reply. Too much buddy – should’ve left it as it was.

My sister can corroborate this fact too, possibly because she’s the only other person who says “Too much buddy,” and also because she tried two of the Madeira grapes with me. Both the Boston Bual down below and the non-noble Tinta Negra. We both preferred the ignoble grape to the noble Bual, which I like to think suggests our American distaste for aristocracy.

Too Young?
Could be it’s a problem of young Buals (Madeira Maven thought the same till he tried really old ones), but of the couple of Buals that have reached my throat, they’re too much to handle on their own. They need the promise of dessert to calm them down and make them behave (think: children). Maybe it is a matter of youth after all.

Taste
Two different tastes of the grape and two pretty different yet somehow related impressions of too much acidity/structure. First up, the preferred of the two – Boston Bual Special Reserve. Carmel nose, apple taste, slightly sharp finish with lots of pear.

Then, the Cossart Gordon 5 year Bual. Smells like oranges and a little like pepper spice. Tastes very acidic with another shipment of oranges to the tongue.

Detail Up!
Boston Bual Special Reserve – one of the creative RWC Historic Series Madeira. Well worth checking out as the gateway to Madeira-dom (h/t for image).

Cossart Gordon 5 year Bual – oldest of the (small number of) Madeira houses and part of the same family that turns out Blandy’s and Leacock

Google Randoms:
* Malmsey > Bual > Verdelho > Sercial, the sweetness order of Madeira (“My Bottle Vesuviates Sweetness” is the mnemonic device).
* Bual is a white grape that turns out the darkest shade of all the Madeira wines. Strange to be sure.
* Bottle of 1834 Bual can be yours today if you have an extra $980 sitting around your den. To put it in perspective, Abraham Lincoln turned 25 that year.

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Mocked Madeira
Madeira is a little known grape that still finds ways to be snotty and dislike even lesser known grapes. Tinta Negra Mole gets the designation of belittled wine reviled by little known wine. See, it’s a grape grown on Madeira, gets called Madeira in any wine shop, but somehow the Madeira wine lovers (all 3 of them) scoff at Tinta Negra Mole. It’s a shame too since there’s some incredible value to be found in Tinta Negra Mole – say the words out loud: “Tinta. Negra. Mole.” It sounds like a Mexican dessert from Oaxaca.

Rodney Dangerfield in Madeira
Tinta Negra Mole (mmmm… dessert) is a grape with little respect and (whoo hoo!) great value. They grow it on Madeira (the island), nominally in Portugal but really kinda like the Atlantic Madagascar, but don’t respect it on Madeira. Or anywhere. It’s the pariah grape of the Madeira grapes. Perhaps rightfully so since it will never soar to age for decades like many of the other “noble” grapes. Still, Tinta Negra Mole is now a “noble” grape and with that comes maidens, crowns and a modicum of respect.

Red Discrimination
Tinta Negra Mole is Madeira’s most planted grape and is treated like the Mission grape in California (dismissed) or the Airen grape in Spain (forgotten). Really though, it’s because Tinta Negra Mole isn’t at home on Madeira. It’s a red grape on a white island, and Madeira discriminates against red grapes. White grapes are part of the “system,” the Malmsey, Bual, Verdelho, Sercial system. Red grapes just don’t have a place.

Not a Marie Antoinette
Tinta Negra Mole though, can produce fine wines, perhaps not of the Marie Antoinette variety but certainly of the “WOW – what IS this variety???” So don’t tell people, it’s best they don’t know. 5 years of aging, some red blood tucked in with the white of the island grapes, and WOW – you have yourself a value wine that is basically indestructible. It is a Madeira after all, and if there’s a better wine, a more indestructible wine invented on earth, you haven’t brought it to my dining table.

Taste
Sweet nose, coffee taste, alcoholic finish with slight raisin. For $20, buy it at this place, the place that provided the photo above. It’s all Tinta Negra Mole.

Detail Up!
Broadbent Madeira, 5 year reserve – Tinta Negra Mole

Random Googles
* Tinta Negra Mole is a cross between a Grenache and a Pinot Noir – do people really dislike that?
* This Swedish guy runs a blog devoted to Madeira (mad respect!) and seems to think Tinta Negra Mole gets tossed to the chickens. Oh, to be those chickens.
* 15% is as close to labeled Madeira as Tinta Negra Mole gets. Labels: sometimes worth it, sometimes just Ralph Lauren.

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“Ma ma ma MY Madeira”
Malmsey holds a special place in my liquor cabinet. Hint – it’s near the front. It’s crazy sweet but isn’t at all cloying, and is pretty much indestructible (my bottle is 2 years old and survived life in a 95 degree closet in Panama). It works for pre-dinner, during dinner and (especially) after-dinner, and holds up against even the stickiest, gooiest desserts.

Still, there’s more to my infatuation, and that’s thanks to a nerdy love of history. Malmsey is a grape (the sweetest grape!) used in Madeira, quite possibly the finest and most unique style of wine in existence. Just ask that fired NPR guy his opinion on the matter – he knows.

Baked Wine
Madeira is baked wine, discovered when a case of regular wine accidentally got forgotten in the bottom of a boat that sailed from Portugal across the Atlantic, made its tour of several stops in the Caribbean and headed home to Portugal. Once back to the first stop home – the island of Madeira 500 miles off the coast of Africa – the Portuguese discovered their wine that had been sloshing around in the hold in 90+ degree heat for the last half year. Turns out, it was delicious.

Estufagem
No longer does Madeira make its trip through the tropics (except my Panama-purchased bottle, apparently) though. Instead, they’ve developed a process called “estufagem” that simulates a long, hot sea voyage minus the mermaid mirages. Essentially, they bake the wine – probably the single most important thing to avoid when you’re handling normal wine.

Matt Damon does Madeira

Heat and wine are like Sarah Palin and Matt Damon. It just seems wrong and really, it is. But then, wine surprises you. Out of nowhere, it starts ripping into heat for believing that dinosaurs roamed the earth 4,000 years ago and becomes something even more beautiful. That’s Madeira – Matt Damon heated up about Sarah Palin.

Taste
Malmsey is that present you give to people who had such sweet tooths that they lost their teeth and now have sweet dentures. This particular one lives up to the sweet hype with lots of raisin and burnt caramel, a tiny drop of coffee, some orange zest smells wafting in, and a really long finish of lots more caramel.

Detail Up!
Blandy’s Madeira – Malmsey Reserve 5 years

Random Googles:
* George Washington loved Madeira best. Other wines wept.
* Malmsey > Bual > Verdelho > Sercial, the sweetness order of Madeira (“My Bottle Vesuviates Sweetness” is the mnemonic device).
* People call anything Malmsey these days. The Malmsey Madeira grape is aka “Malvasia Candida,” one of 12 different types of Malvasia in Portugal.

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