Wine

There’s nothing better with autumn fare, insists Jonathan Ray, although you might find you are banging your head long before you reach capacity

Ah, autumn, glorious autumn, season of mists and mellow fruitfulness and, if all goes according to plan, buckets and buckets of Pinot Noir. It’s a grape variety that really comes into its own at this time of year and I reckon there’s nothing better alongside roast grouse, partridge, pheasant or duck; steaming hunks of venison or wild-boar stew. Somehow the vegetal, earthy, mushroomy, truffly, gamey, grubby characteristics of fine Pinot seem to echo those of this wonderful season. I plan to drink pretty much nothing but all the way up to Christmas.

They call it the heartbreak grape, partly because it’s such a tricky bugger to grow (being thin-skinned and susceptible to mildew, rot and frost) and partly because it’s such a tricky bugger in the glass. Just when you think your search is over and you’ve found the perfect Pinot, one exploratory sip will tell you that you’ve been deceived yet again. It’s this capriciousness, however, that endears Pinot Noir to its legion of admirers.

Cabernet Sauvignon is more straightforward. A cinch to grow, it’s never less than a crowd pleaser and rarely lets one down. Pinot, on the other hand, is an absolute sod and it’s said that it can take a lifetime to find that sublime example that makes the earth move for you. Once tasted, never forgotten… and, sadly, rarely found again.

It used to be like Jack Spratt and his missus in this house. In vinous terms, that is. All I wanted to drink was Cabernet Sauvignon or Syrah. I liked the cassis notes and

sophistication of the former and the spice and oomph of the latter. My wife, however, was only interested in Pinot and would turn her nose up at anything so mundane as claret or red Rhône. It made for dinners that were more than a little boozy, what with our own his ’n’ hers bottles of wine.

As I’ve grown older, my tastes have changed and where once all I wanted was the uncomplicated, open-faced straightforwardness of said Cab Sauv, now I crave the fickleness, the waywardness and, well, the sheer grubbiness of fine Pinot Noir.

But then Pinot Noir has changed, too. There are now so many wonderful examples cropping up all over the wine world. The French have been telling us for yonks that the grape only makes decent wine in Burgundy and Champagne and that’s it. Well, phooey, say I, what the heck do they know? After all, there are some pretty decent examples right under their noses in Alsace and just next door, too, in France’s Moselle region (see the Wine Society’s cracking example in Six of the Best). And, hang on, what about the red Sancerres of the Loire Valley? They are all produced from Pinot Noir and wine merchants Yapp Bros in Mere, Wiltshire, have some tip-top examples.

And then there are the fabulous Pinots one can find in Australia (especially Victoria’s Mornington Peninsula), in New Zealand (Central Otago, Martinborough and Marlborough), South Africa (the hemel-en-aarde Valley), California (Russian River Valley and

Santa Barbara – you’ve seen the film Sideways, right?), Oregon (Willamette Valley), Canada (Niagara Peninsula), Chile (Casablanca, Leyda), Germany (Ahr Valley) and even England, the sparkling wines of which are now so good, not least because producers are concentrating on Pinot Noir and Chardonnay rather than the dreary hybrid grapes of old.

But English still wines are on a roll, too, and I had a stupendous still Pinot Noir from Chapel Down in Kent the other day. Previous vintages had been a bit thin and weedy; this one – the 2014 – was anything but, being soft, supple, mellow and delectably earthy, almost smokey.

We drank it alongside some fine Forman & Field English cheeses and this surely is Pinot Noir’s other great selling point. Not only is it the perfect partner to game, it’s also the only red wine that can partner cheese. I’ve written in these pages before how unsuitable red wine is for matching with cheese. The tannins play havoc with the acids in the cheese and are apt to ruin both wine and comestible. Pinot Noir, with its thin skin, has little in the way of tannin and can match a strong cheddar, a crumbly Cheshire or stinky Stilton just so.

Not only that, Pinot Noir – especially a juicy, fruit forward New World Pinot Noir – is a famously fine match with certain fish dishes, such as baked salmon, pan-fried tuna steak or oven-baked king prawns.

It’s a versatile grape for sure, if also a somewhat maddening one. The wines made from Pinot Noir have never been better and if you struggle in your quest to find “the one”, so what? At the very worst, all you’ll have to do is open another bottle.

Not only is it the perfect partner to game, it’s also the only red wine that can partner cheese