The Wine Page

Anyone for port?

Ask me if I like port, and I will tell you I love it. I have fond memories of the sumptuous flavours of a well-aged vintage port, and even more so, the delicate, subtle pleasures of a 20-year-old tawny port.

But these delights reside mostly in the past. And for reasons I cannot put my finger on, I almost never drink port anymore. The gastric urge for a nice after-dinner glass of port (or Cognac) has largely faded, overcome by the diminished stamina of my middle age (and the desire to be not only awake and productive the following morning, but headache free as well). Port is a fortified wine, after all. You may not immediately taste the 20 percent alcohol in a well-balanced version, but it can quickly catch up with you. When I put my nostalgic mind to it, the cinnamon-sweet, nutmeg-spice notes of a 20-year tawny come right back to my palate. It makes me wonder if I need to reacquaint myself with the pleasures of port. But how? Here in Thailand it is not easy to even find any, and if you do, they are invariably as expensive as they are rare.

My feeling is that port needs to re-invent itself. Lose the shackles that consign it to the end of the meal. Other fortified wines are more versatile. Even the sweetest Madeira, with its jolt of acidity, seems much less sweet than port, and therefore more flexible with savoury foods. Fino sherry is dry, with far less alcohol, and makes a glorious aperitif. It also works well supporting many dishes in the traditional Mediterranean locker, and accompanies delicate white fish extremely well.

But port? It‘s hard to see beyond cheese, especially blue cheeses like Stilton, and aged Cheddar style hard cheeses (or chocolate, of course). As for savoury dishes, I have recently read some food reviewers raving about port with steak au poivre, ahi tuna and leg of lamb. And I must admit the suggestion has got me curious. A wine and food matching website I like, also suggests that tawny port makes a fine substitution for Sauternes in the classic pairing with foie gras. It also claimed that it would pair well with caramelised pork, although I am a little sceptical on that one. Maybe at the next dinner party I give, I will try matching the food with a port. It will be interesting to see the reaction. I‘m still holding the torch for port, but everybody else has forgotten it, so it may fall outside of most people’s preference. And no doubt, although the port will be politely sipped, the usual red wine varieties will be enthusiastically welcomed, and probably quaffed down at triple the speed.

One of the reasons I feel port needs re-marketing is that, because of tradition, most people are only interested in the vintage variety. Which is a great shame, as port is produced in many different styles. The grapes come from daunting terraces built into impossibly steep, rocky hillsides in the Douro region of Portugal, where they bake in dry, often unrelenting heat. Once picked, the best grapes are sometimes still crushed by feet in stone tanks, while the rest are done mechanically. The juice is then fermented about half way until the process is halted by the addition of brandy. Vintage port, which is bottled, after two years or so in barrels, and tawny, which is typically aged longer, are the two best-known styles. And I suppose, for good reason, they are the most magnificent expressions of port.

Even so, this is where there is a possible gap in the market, for mid-range port that delivers on the unique taste, but is free of the old-school vintage obsessed baggage. The classic vintage ports are made only in very good years (maybe three every 10 years) and can require decades to soften their fiery, extravagantly fruity character. Tawny ports mellow in the barrel, where they acquire their reddish brown colour, and are generally a blend of vintages. And good tawnies generally come with an age statement, indicating the average age in the blend. For me, 20-year tawny is ideal, showing the complexity of age at a still-affordable price. (And this can be another issue with buying traditional port, so long do they need to age, you would pretty much be buying them for your children to drink.)

While I have fond memories of vintage ports being enjoying in the 1970s and 80s, I really cannot remember it being popular since. When I was involved in the restaurant business here a decade ago, port by-the-glass was occasionally requested, but by-the-bottle sales were unheard of. Although only tenuously connected, port seemed to die out with smoking. And now, amongst the younger generation of wine drinkers, there is definitely a mystique around port. I have noticed young women do, from time to time, order port, but it still has the image of being an obscure old man’s drink.

This image problem has a simple but direct method of appealing to younger generations - cocktails! Port (and sherry) from a cocktail ingredient perspective, is a breath of fresh air. One of the easiest ways to come up with new cocktails is simple substitution, port for vermouth, for example. Equivalent in alcoholic grunt, but new textures, colours and flavours. By port, I mean ruby port, a simpler, fruity, more accessible cousin of vintage port, and a blend of several vintages. For a fine example of a port based cocktail, try the little-known, St. Valentine, a blend of ruby port, white rum, Grand Marnier and lime juice that has a wonderfully ripe, round and refreshing quality. While tawny ports are ideal for substituting bourbon to make rich and subtle variations on the Manhattan.

In my experience, most proven gastronomic food and beverage favourites always come back into fashion, eventually. Port has been stubbornly avoiding rediscovery, for a long time now. It needs a catalyst. Possibly, dare I suggest, from a celebrity endorsement? And some re-branding, aimed at the young, along with reduced prices, from the producers of this gorgeous, forgotten fortified wine gem.