The thing about natural wines is that they are, um, natural. Lack of additives and preservatives can bring on oxidative qualities (not always a bad thing) or even appear to be going through some sort of re-fermentation (a little bit of air usually blows this off). Critics of the natural wine world deem these flaws. Last weekend, my beloved Agnès & René Mosse Moussamoussettes may have been cloudy, floating with particular matter and have a distinct pickle juice character about it (whereas the first few times I’d drank this it was much prettier) yet I stuck by its side, enjoyed and contemplated its new phase. The bottle of Mosse was shared with a couple of other wine zealots, one gentleman described the wine as a living thing. I agree.
Wines that are in all their honest glory are not always perfect (they are far from perfect to begin with when compared to well groomed, conventional vino). I was once at a dinner party and the hosts had purchased some wines (this was when I was just discovering low-intervention wines) and it was like pure pickle juice/potato water. It was a still wine that was developing a serious fizz. I suggested our hosts take the bottle back. If it were now I would have decanted it, I would have tasted it the next day and then the next and then I’d have bought another bottle to see what was up. I would have given it time.
Physically, these wines remind me of a guy I once knew who refused to wear deodorant – some days he reeked of body odor and other days he smelled perfectly fine. I liked him on stinky days and non-stinky days alike. His lack of roll-on wasn’t what drew me to him; I was endeared by his character, which was anything but dull and predictable.
The subject came up at Ten Bells a few weeks ago. My friends and I had ordered a bottle of the Robinot Pineau d’Aunis. Two weeks previous, we’d had it at the exact same spot (by the glass). It wasn’t showing the fruit and lovely peppery character it had recently graced us with. It wasn’t bad. I could have kept drinking but my friend could not. I understood. She had tasted the wine before and wanted another delicious experience but if there is one thing you rarely get in a natural wine it is consistency. Bottle fluctuation and up-and-down phases are part of the deal, especially in wines that have no added sulfur.
A wine store owner (not telling who) recently told me about a shipment of natural wine he received that wasn’t good. He was told by the importer that it was fine and that’s the way the wines are. Who was right? I respect both of them in this particular case.
The winemaker at Ch. Musar (and by the way each bottle tastes different even if the wine came from the same assemblage, vintage, etc.) loves volatile acidity but he’s adding a bit more SO2 to his wines because he felt the VA was going overboard. At a New Year’s Day party I tasted the Coturri and Mathieu Vineyards Cote Des Caullioux, the volatile acidity in that made me want to gag.
That night at Ten Bells, another friend at the table wondered where we draw the line. When do these wines become unacceptable? When is it ok to send the bottle back? Truth is, you draw that line yourself and the discussion is healthy. Ultimately, I would much rather have a wine that’s having an off day (hell I know how it feels) than a wine that has been manipulated to “perfection.”
Proper storage of these wines is vital too. Selling wines that have little or no added SO2 without a temperature controlled environment isn’t doing much for the cause and could be hurting the sincere objectives of a winemaker that wants drinkers to experience a good, honest glass of wine, sans spoofulation.