I have a particular fondness for the Chapel Down Winery near Tenterden, Kent. I was brought up just down the road in Rolvenden, although in those days it was of course all hop gardens and orchards rather than vineyards. The landscape of southern England is certainly changing.
Chapel Down is the UK’s largest producer of wines and, with a massive expansion underway, will soon overtake Denbies in Surrey in terms of vineyard acreage too. And, gosh, the wines they make are good.
I led a heavily oversubscribed Spectator visit to Chapel Down on St. George’s Day and we had a hoot (one couple even came specially from Brussels). Josh Donaghay-Spire, the winemaker, and Mark Harvey, the MD formerly of Moet-Hennessy (which tells us something about the state of English wine, that he’d rather be looking after Chapel Down than Moet & Chandon or Veuve Clicquot) led us on a brief tour of one of the vineyards and the winery. We were encouraged to taste from stainless steel tanks the wines that will make up the 2015 Chapel Down Vintage Reserve Brut.
Then it was off to the excellent on-site winery restaurant – the Swan – for a five course lunch with Chapel Down wines to match.
We started with the 2011 Blanc de Blancs sparkler made from 100 per cent Chardonnay grown on the slopes of the North Downs. Full of crunchy fresh apple with a long honeyed finish, it was the perfect aperitif. One reader new to English wines was rendered temporarily speechless at this stage, a broad grin slowly stealing across his face.
With an asparagus, goat’s cheese and pesto starter we had the 2014 Chapel Down Bacchus Reserve. In the haste to plant the champagne triumvirate of Chardonnay, Pinot Noir and Pinot Meunier, Bacchus often gets overlooked, not to say dug up and dumped. But it thrives in England and this toothsome example was full of tropical fruit flavours, melon and pineapple with scents of elderflower and cut grass. It wasn’t dissimilar to a Sauvignon Blanc or Torrontés and it got a definite thumbs up around the table.
Next, with gilt head bream and ratatouille, was the 2013 Kit’s Coty Chardonnay, launched that very day, the first in Chapel Down’s new range of premium wines; single vineyard, single varietal and really extremely fine. From low-yielding vines planted on south facing chalk slopes near Aylesford, it was fresh, succulent, honeyed and buttery. I’d had previous vintages before and liked them; this I loved. I know we make great sparkling wine in England (and indeed in Tenterden) but this is far and away the best still English white I’ve had. And at £20 a bottle it stands comparison with fine Chablis.
With rump of new season Romney Marsh lamb we had the 2013 Chapel Down Pinot Noir, so pale a red it’s almost a rosé. It’s light and delicate and very easy drinking, but Josh Donaghay-Spire was the first to admit it’s not the finest example of this capricious grape. That didn’t prevent us from draining our glasses though, nor from recharging them too. I liked it but it’s no classic.
With a baked yoghurt and rhubarb pudding we had the 2014 Chapel Down Nectar, a delightfully light and floral sweet wine. It is only 8%vol (its fermentation had been stopped by temperature control before all the sugar had turned to alcohol) which, although commendable in many ways, made it just too light in my view. In the mouth it was delicious but once swallowed there was nothing left to remind you of its presence. It was charming but just too ethereal.
Far more successful was the superb 2014 Chapel Down Pinot Blanc we had with the cheese. Josh is a firm believer in white wine with cheese rather than red (I agree) and this worked an absolute treat. Pinot Blanc can be a bit thin and watery if allowed to over-crop, but this had been tightly managed in both vineyard and winery and was creamy, soft and full of peach and apricot flavours with a touch of citrus acidity. We lapped it up.
It was the finest of lunches and one where the wine never showed any sign of drying up. Our hosts were munificence incarnate and I think we all felt a sense of pride that we could toast both St. George and William Shakespeare not with champagne or claret, but with the finest of wines of Albion.
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