Chenin Blanc gets little respect in the US, and one of us quite disliked this wine. But the grape supposedly mutated in Anjou, just down the road from the start and finish of the individual time trial stage of this year”s tour. And one of us is ready to call this our favorite CB (not that that’s saying much). Pleasantly tart (or, as the one not typing puts it, unpleasantly sour) and with just a bit of satisfying unctuousness.
There might be a touch of butter and of oak, but it obviously depends on your pallate and the context. Served with an easy dish of pig shank braised in beer with quinoua, it sort of flips back and forth between too tart and quite nice. The way orange juice tastes good after bacon…
And time trials, really, are similarly problematic. (Mind you, Millar is just starting as we write this.) One minute, it’s repetitive shots and predictable patter, the next, you can see how an individual rider (ie Menchov) has made the ride his own. And watching Phil and Paul try to compensate for the format is great:
“if they get much thinner, these bikes, they’ll disappear”
If it gets much thinner, this wine, I’ll switch back to beer.