Monday, 9 September 2013

Mavrud

I'm too young to remember the recent heyday of Bulgarian wines, Australia had already stolen their place in the UK market by the time I started drinking; however I'm assured by many a set text that they were once a force. Bulgarian Merlots and Cabernets offering soft, fruity, easy drinking liquid for the masses were once a common sight on UK shelves. My opinions of Bulgaria however, had been mostly formed by folk I'd worked with an friends. Suffice to say, I didn't have any context with which to place Bulgarian wines, well, apart from a sneaking suspicion that it might be akin to the revelation that getting to know Hungarian wine had been.

So I was more than a little excited when Daniel from Theatre of Wines started talking about the interesting Bulgarian wines that they'd started importing..

Zagreus is a winery in the Thracian plains.

Now if you're lucky enough, you'll find yourself in a taxi with an overly loquacious Romanian taxi driver, who'll explain to you that the countries of Thracia are merely political constructs dividing the original people of Europe, those who created the earliest kingdoms, and those who are still the same people, untouched by the waves of Asian migrations that created the Magyars and blessed of a more contiguous history than the fragmented Italians (yes, you'll probably detect a certain far right sentiment to their spiel, but we'll pass over that), the Thracians who formed the core of Alexander's army, the self same people who fought their way across continents in the name of nothing more than a disregard of death (well that's how my taxi driver put it).

Ancient Trace, from Albania to the borders of Turkey, conveniently pretty much the geographical scope of Peckham Bazaar's cooking, but I digress. I'm pretty certain that coincidence is merely that, but sometimes there are coincidences that trouble even my, most rational of minds.

Bulgaria's wine regions are pretty much divided into the Danubian planes and the Tracian lowlands; this I feel is core territory for PBaz (Peckham Bazaar) wines, the Thracian planes, blessed with deep iron rich soil, the kind that when I first saw it in Istria brought on a deep emotional understanding of quite how covetous it must have been to people who needed fertile earth for their livelihood. This was earth that seemed pregnant with potential for growth; the bounteous fields abutting the ploughed areas speaking epic tales of ripe crops and weighty vines. Indeed Zagreus is the Bulgarian name for Dionysus, he of the Bacchae and the far more interesting orgiastic celebrations that were usurped by our own Christian St Valentine's day.

But, back to the point; Mavrud, described by our own modern day Saint of the vine Jancis Robinson (though credit being due also to Julia Harding and José Vouillamoz) as being an "Indigenous Bulgarian variety producing sturdy reds that can improve with age.", a description sure to induce apathy, and one that I'm certain could do with a little poetry to enliven, something I'll endeavour to provide.

In it's basic incarnation, steel tanks separating the fermenting must from the oxidative ravages of wood's airy embrace and keeping it's youthful face clear of sun worn blemish, the Zagreus estates basic Mavrud offers a nose of plentiful fruit, fair jovial in it's congenialness, bright and fresh, yet with an underlay of herbal bitterness. A lean vegetal core that seems to speak of profligate herbs and sour spicing, just lying in wait, though still at present sub

sumed by the the cheery enthusiasm of youth. It's elder brother the Vinica 2010, an Amarone style take on the grape, pushes the boundaies yet further still. Fresh peas and summer vegetables, a touch of tarragon, all those herbs and spices that retain a touch of the animal about them. Peppermint and maybe eucalypt (I'm certain there's a herb I don't yet know that fits the aromatic profile better and more understandably), though not in an Antipodean way, grippy sweet tannins, though with minimal residual sugar. A puckering character to the wine that seems to invoke conflict; with what ought one drink this wine? Because this is self evidently a wine with which things out to be eaten. It's a wine that makes me think of rabbit stew, of all spice berries, bay leaves and thyme. One to accompany the stew pot to the table, and to be there to help those who struggle with rabbit hind quarters and the like. Bold and proud of its own place in the world.

Suffice to say I bought a case for the restaurant :)


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