Domaine Felines Jourdan Picpoul de Pinet should be chilled and ready in your fridge to be snatched out at the first signs of autumn’s fleeting sunshine — or a farting dog
A quickie, today.
So here’s a smashing Pee Pee de Pee from The Wine Society. Yes, that’s the same Wine Society that just won Decanter’s National Wine Merchant of the Year award. For the second time running. Which just goes to show two things: 1. that this blog is occasionally (if only coincidentally) capable of vague topicality, and 2. that Decanter Magazine does occasionally manage to do/say something that isn’t as annoying as a farting dog on a rush hour tube.
Anyhow, back to the Picpoul. And a bewitching character it is. The first thing that hits you is the smell: bright, ringing, clean. Delicious. Then you get it into your gob. It’s proper, grown-up, complex, with that stony, bracing quality: while it may be light, it sure as hell ain’t lite.
Elegant, poised and deeply, deeply satisfying. Have a bottle in your fridge and snatch it out when autumn next sees fit to unveil her fleeting sunshine.
Or when you next get home after a long commute alongside someone’s flatulent pet.
★★★★ 4 stars (very good)
Languedoc & Roussillon
£7.50 from The Wine Society
; £8.95 from BBR
… is Pinot Grigio’s tearaway little cousin — who’s just come out of the sweet shop with a crafty grin on his face
Actually, enough of that shit. Here’s a wine review.
So — how do you feel about pear drops? C’mon. Don’t tell me you’re indifferent. That’d be like saying you’re indifferent to Bruce Forsyth. Or Al Qaeda.
Pear drops are just something you have an opinion on, right?
So. If you like pear drops, you’ll like this nifty, zippy young Picpoul de Pinet from Naked Wines. Because it’s stuffed with the things. Like the pockets of a light-fingered schoolboy in a blind old woman’s sweetshop.
Just as well I like pear drops, eh?
What else? It’s dry, pale and light of body. Kind of like me, really.
I reckon a lot of people would love this wine. It’s accessible, lithe, unusual enough to start a conversation (about pear drops, obviously) but not outlandish.
It’s not entirely dissimilar to Pinot Grigio; it has that same light clarity. Like Pinot Grigio’s tearaway little cousin, maybe.
Pinot Grigio’s tearaway little cousin who’s just come out of the sweet shop with a crafty grin on his face.
*** (3 stars)
£9.99 full price — £6.66 (el numero del diablo!) for members — from Naked Wines