Oswaldo Costa
Oswaldo Costa
Red Colares is one of the most unique wines in the world. It is made mostly from the Ramisco grape, harvested from old ungrafted vines planted on the sandy soils of the Azenhas do Mar, on the seashore not far from Lisbon. In the first half of the twentieth century, red Colares was the most exported Portuguese wine, but changing tastes led to decadence (of the undesirable kind). Only a few producers remain, and a coop, where exemplars from the 1930s can still be found. I was originally turned on to Colares by David Lillie, who used to import them when he was at Garnet (contact was since reestablished, and Colares can be found at CSW).
In 2010, we visited the octogenarian António Bernardino, the dean of remaining producers, to procure some bottles for an upcoming wine dinner of Levi’s that some of you might remember, the one totally devoid of graft. The visit was memorable for the natural beauty of Azenhas and the old-fashioned graciousness with which we were received. This is a wine that I really want to like, making it harder to know whether I really do. It is not for no reason that sandy soils rank low in the soil hierarchy, being appreciated mostly for being unfriendly to the phylloxera bug. Colares is cheap, being so out of fashion, and quite long-lived, so we have always tasted exemplars from the 1980s and early 1990s. It was never clear whether our relative disappointments were due to essence or storage, so two days ago we tried a bottle with nary a decade, hoping to better understand the beast, followed yesterday by the corresponding white.
2006 Antonio Bernardino Paulo da Silva Colares Chitas Reserva Red 12.0%
Austere; black plum, with some fennel. Little in the way of charm. The mouth is curiously contradictory. Although it doesn’t seem over extracted, and the alcohol is low, it conveys a prominent sense of sweetness, almost liquor like. As if the alcohol was low not because the grapes were harvested early, or in the Goldilocks zone, but the fermentation of very ripe grapes was halted to leave some residual sugar. Possibly an attempt to manufacture some charm (if so, SO2 must be high). This is all pure speculation. There is no annoying oak flavor or textural smoothness, since local producers only use very old foudres, but it didn’t give me much pleasure. Marcia usually complains about vegetable flavors in Colares, especially the older ones, which I am not sensitive to. In any case, maybe I should accept that these are wines that I can appreciate, but don’t enjoy.
2010 Antonio Bernardino Paulo da Silva Colares Chitas Reserve White 12.0%
Mostly Arinto, Malvasia and Dona Branca. Very pale yellow. Expressive florals. Before food, decent initial weight, but tastes more sweet than acid, and the sweetness is candied. With food, the body begins to appear dilute, with a short finish. Marcia says, "seems like some kind of water". The exuberant florals begin to get tiresome, and our consumption rate falls to that of an unstressed snail.
It is, therefore, with considerable regret that we must relegate this storied aoc to the status of curio; one which, without strong evidence to the contrary, is not worth our while insisting upon.
In 2010, we visited the octogenarian António Bernardino, the dean of remaining producers, to procure some bottles for an upcoming wine dinner of Levi’s that some of you might remember, the one totally devoid of graft. The visit was memorable for the natural beauty of Azenhas and the old-fashioned graciousness with which we were received. This is a wine that I really want to like, making it harder to know whether I really do. It is not for no reason that sandy soils rank low in the soil hierarchy, being appreciated mostly for being unfriendly to the phylloxera bug. Colares is cheap, being so out of fashion, and quite long-lived, so we have always tasted exemplars from the 1980s and early 1990s. It was never clear whether our relative disappointments were due to essence or storage, so two days ago we tried a bottle with nary a decade, hoping to better understand the beast, followed yesterday by the corresponding white.
2006 Antonio Bernardino Paulo da Silva Colares Chitas Reserva Red 12.0%
Austere; black plum, with some fennel. Little in the way of charm. The mouth is curiously contradictory. Although it doesn’t seem over extracted, and the alcohol is low, it conveys a prominent sense of sweetness, almost liquor like. As if the alcohol was low not because the grapes were harvested early, or in the Goldilocks zone, but the fermentation of very ripe grapes was halted to leave some residual sugar. Possibly an attempt to manufacture some charm (if so, SO2 must be high). This is all pure speculation. There is no annoying oak flavor or textural smoothness, since local producers only use very old foudres, but it didn’t give me much pleasure. Marcia usually complains about vegetable flavors in Colares, especially the older ones, which I am not sensitive to. In any case, maybe I should accept that these are wines that I can appreciate, but don’t enjoy.
2010 Antonio Bernardino Paulo da Silva Colares Chitas Reserve White 12.0%
Mostly Arinto, Malvasia and Dona Branca. Very pale yellow. Expressive florals. Before food, decent initial weight, but tastes more sweet than acid, and the sweetness is candied. With food, the body begins to appear dilute, with a short finish. Marcia says, "seems like some kind of water". The exuberant florals begin to get tiresome, and our consumption rate falls to that of an unstressed snail.
It is, therefore, with considerable regret that we must relegate this storied aoc to the status of curio; one which, without strong evidence to the contrary, is not worth our while insisting upon.