So we may not pour Pepsi into a 1,000 USD bottle of Premier Cru – we leave that to the Chinese, even if they are catching on fast – but we definitely get into a bit of a Francophone lather. We say ‘Bordeaux’ and ‘Bourgogne’ as if we’ve been quaffing them all our lives and when invited to dinner, we anxiously scour the supermarkets shelves to find something foreign, mainly French, that’s suitably priced and looks the part, even if we haven’t a clue about what’s inside. You see, we treat it as something that says more about who we are and less about what’s in the bottle.
Now before you start demanding I be put in the stocks and pelted with empty bottles of Pétrus, I do admit this is a huge generalisation. I’m sure that there are many oenophiles who know their onions and who are passionate about wines from other regions, but the fact remains that we are, by and large, still reluctant to celebrate our own.
Certainly a big part of it is down to a sense of ennui. We see the same names and labels everyday. But even the ones that we love to hate because they’re everywhere, like Château Ksara’s Réserve du Couvent, are bloody good. Trust me, there’s a lot of rubbish out there. That said, there are new and exciting labels emerging. You might have to hunt them down but it is, I believe, our duty to spread the word.
So what are we looking at? Château Sanctus from Batroun is mon vin rouge du moment. An art dealer friend recently asked me to recommend a bottle and I mentioned Sanctus. He had never heard of it and became even more sceptical when I told him it cost 25 USD a bottle. Undoubtedly working on the basis that ‘if it isn’t cheap it must be half good,’ he ordered half a case of the Cabernet Sauvignon 2008. And I crossed my fingers.
One week into the New Year he called. “Michael! What can I say?” he said. “They’re nearly all gone.” Then, sotto voce. “My friends, some of whom are quite snobby about what they drink, really liked it.” Quad erat demonstrandum.
Other reds worth trying from up -and-coming producers include Domaine des Tourelles’ Marquis des Beys 2009 and Coteaux de Botrys’ Syrah 2009. With its flavours of black fruit laced with cinnamon and a streak of licorice, Syrah is a grape finding fabulous expression in Lebanon’s formidable terroir.
So what about whites? Another friend, a man who bores me to death about Bordeaux, every time the topic arises, tasted a Batroun Mountains Chardonnay 2011 and immediately ordered a case. I’m sure he would also like Domaine de Baal 2010 and Chateau Marsyas 2011. Both are truly grown-up vintages with layers of complexity. For a simpler, but equally refreshing experience, do not be put off by the cringingly named Cloud 9 from Karam (no relation) in Jezzine. The Karam (my) family was drinking it by the case last summer.
So yes maybe the onus is on the producers to promote themselves but let’s also not assume that if it’s foreign and has a Warhol or a Rothko on the label, it’s automatically good. Local importers often buy foreign vintages for nothing but sell them at a huge mark-up because they know we won’t go near it if it’s a bargain. You have been warned.
The second edition of Michael Karam’s Lebanese Wines: An Independent Guide is now on sale.
