Reading labels on wines can be fun. Some give absolutely no information at all about the wine, except in code. For instance, a Boardeaux labeled AOC ("Appellation d'Origine Contrôlée") with the region "St. Emilion" on it can tell you that the wine is mostly Merlot with some Cabernet Franc and maybe a sprinkle of a few other grapes (limited by those legally allowed in wine labeled "St. Emilion").
Others tell you precisely what grapes are in the wine, the country of origin, the alcohol % and nothing more save the government warning.
Still others wax rhapsodic about the "terroir" and the way the winemaker all but copulated with the earth to produce the finest bottle of $8.99 wine you've ever tasted. These labels always make the word enophile seem a little dirty.
Alto Real Monastrell is of an unintentionally funny variety. With many words, it says virtually nothing, or least nothing useful. Quoting the back in its entirety:
Wine made with Monastrell variety grapes, selected at their optimal moment of ripeness to offer medium-bodied wines, fresh, young and fruity. The production of this wine is done to make the most of these grapes, with the colour and the typical aroma of this variety.
Let's leave aside the fact that the first sentence is not even really a sentence but more of a run-on-sentence fragment, grammatically speaking. Getting past that, you realize that it tells you what happens in general with Monastrell grapes, making no specific promise that the grapes in this particular bottle were "selected at their optimal moment of ripeness." In fairness, the next sentence attempts to make the connection, but it's more than a little vague about it.
For one thing, what are Monastrell grapes? If you scroll down to the post about "Ventoux" you will find the grape listed as a small component of Rhone style wines, under the label "Mourvedre." Monastrell is the Spanish name for basically the same grape, but the Spanish sell quite a bit as a "varietal" (the primary ingredient, usually 85% or more) whereas in France it usually appears only in a supporting role. (There are French exceptions, but not too many besides rose that are easy to find in the US.)
The label also doesn't tell you what the typical "colour and aroma" are, just that it has them, presuming you already know these things. Of course, you're drinking this wine because you are, like me, a bottom-feeder, someone who will acknowledge buying Thunderbird, Wild Irish Rose, and/or Two Buck Chuck more than once, and so facts like the "typical" "colour and aroma" of a moderately obscure grape have not often lodged themselves in your/my brains. Fortunately, I have reference books.
My favorite, What to Drink with What You Eat, says Monastrell has "lots of tannin, blackberry, spice, pepper and leather nuances." None of which Alto Real Monastrell possesses.
Ok, that's not really true, or fair. This wine does have the "spice" component, and it is light-to medium bodied. It's a bit more fruity than "bigger" wines of the variety, and its color is a red running towards purple. It is a bit simple, a bit rough, but not a bad sipper on a Tuesday night, with just enough going on to allow it to work with food. It's a teensy bit thin (that's basically what light-bodied means). In other words, it passes through your mouth quickly, in exactly the way that root beer doesn't. It doesn't offer a lot of surprises at the beginning, on "the nose", or at the finish. It's just slightly better than "red wine." But it does offer a nice change of pace from the usual cheap Cabs, Merlots and Zins that are served by large gatherings, if you want variety as a kind of quality. Try it with an aged cheese and it gets actually quite nice, which earns it the "+" point.
rating: 3+ points. pairing: Cheese, gamey meat, stews, and olives.
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