El Bulli to auction cellar at Sotheby’s

Gastronomes around the world wept in 2010 on hearing the news that Spanish pleasure dome El Bulli – voted the world’s best restaurant four years in a row – was to close its doors for good in 2011. Now comes the news via Wine-Searcher that the restaurant is to sell off its 10,000-bottle wine cellar at a Sotheby’s auction, though the auction house is remaining tight-lipped about details of the auction until further notice.

The three Michelin-starred restaurant near the town of roses, 160km north of Barcelona, closed its doors last July, having operated at a loss since 2000. It is set to re-open in 2014 as a culinary think tank, where former head chef Ferran Adrià, 50, will investigate and develop new cooking techniques.

The 139-page, 1,600-bin list features wines from classic regions like Bordeaux, Burgundy and Piedmont, alongside cult Californian wines, rare Sherries and Spanish icon wines such as L’Ermita, Pingus, and Vega Sicilia Unico. Compiled by Adrià's business partner Juli Soler, wines ranged in price from €21.40 to €5,350 for Domaine de la Romanée-Conti Romanée-Conti 1999. Pétrus 2000 was also on the list for €3,745 a bottle. 

Voted the best restaurant in the world by Restaurant magazine a record five times, El Bulli pushed the boundaries of contemporary cuisine for more than two decades with its off-the-wall dishes created using molecular gastronomy. Though its popularity came at a cost. With staff fielding more than two million reservation requests a year, the public pressures of running a restaurant influenced Adrià’s decision to close.

“When people bring up the issue of reservations, I have to give some kind of explanation. We created a monster and it was time to find a way to tame it,” he said on announcing the restaurant’s closure. The El Bulli Foundation will grant 20-25 scholarships annually for chefs to spend a year working with Adrià on new creations, the results of which results will be posted online.

Julio Iglesias interview

Julio Iglesias doesn’t do things by half. During his 42-year music career, the Madrid-born singer has sold more than 300 million albums in 14 different languages, making him among the top 10 best-selling musicians in history. Last year, the 66-year-old, who has reportedly slept with over 3,000 women, released album number 77, and he’s currently midway through a world tour – ‘It’s a great excuse to drink wines from different countries every night,’ he says, laughing.

His speech is littered with huge numbers – a million dollars here, 800 million pesetas there, and I quickly get the impression that Iglesias’ world is one in which money is no object. ‘I used to spend more than a million dollars a year on wine,’ he tells me, in a genuinely casual, rather than boastful way. The singer has bought so much wine over the years that he seems to have lost count of how many bottles he has in his three cellars in Spain, Miami and the Dominican Republic.

‘I’ve got about 5,000 top wines and hundreds of thousands of normal wines,’ he admits, without hyperbole. Generous with his plentiful stock, he gives away about 100 cases of wine to friends every year and thinks nothing of cracking open a bottle of Pétrus 1982 after a concert to share with his band. Isn’t it wasted on the uninitiated? ‘Not at all,’ he counters. ‘They’ve all become wine connoisseurs and have built cellars too. The vodka days are over!’

It was in the summer of ’82 that Iglesias tried to buy the acclaimed Ribera del Duero estate Vega Sicilia. ‘I was having dinner with friends in Madrid and it came up in conversation that Vega Sicilia was on the market for 800 million pesetas (around US$6m back then). I got on the phone to them the next morning, but it was too late.’ The winery had already been sold to a Venezuelan family, who went on to sell it to the Alvarez family, the current owners. ‘It wasn’t my lucky day, I guess,’ Iglesias says wistfully.

Vega Sicilia aside, he insists he’s not just a trophy collector – wine has shaped his outlook on life. ‘My understanding of life has become much stronger and clearer through my appreciation of wine,’ he says, describing spending those millions on wine in the ’80s as: ‘the best thing I ever did in my life’. Brought up in Madrid in the '50s by his doctor father, Iglesias got by in the early days by drinking ‘any old stuff from Valdepeñas’. In his late teens he played as a goalkeeper for Real Madrid football club, until a near fatal car accident in 1963 ended his sporting career. During his rehabilitation, to develop dexterity in his hands, he started playing the guitar and subsequently, writing music.

Iglesias’ wine epiphany was equally notable. In 1973 he was invited by Baroness Philippine de Rothschild – a big Iglesias fan – to a dinner party at her home in Paris after one of his concerts. ‘She asked me what I thought of the wine and I told her that I’d never tasted anything like it,’ Iglesias recalls with brio. ‘She summoned the butler to serve a second wine, this time in a decanter, which I later learned was Lafite 1961. It was the first time in my life I’d felt a wine all the way down to my toes. It worked its magic through my body and made me realise that wine had a lot more mystery and history than I had first thought’.

The memory of the Lafite lingered, sending Iglesias on a lifelong wine journey. He began picking up the odd case in the countries he toured in – reds in France, whites in Germany – and got seriously into collecting in 1978, after building a 4,000-bottle cellar in the Miami home he shares with his second wife and their five children. He grew his cellar by seeking out bargains at New York merchant Sherry Lehmann. ‘In the late ’70s you could still get hold of great 1947s and 1961s. The ’75s were coming onto the market and I started spending a lot of money on Bordeaux, buying up all the Pauillac, Pomerol, Graves and Margaux I could get my hands on. Before you can appreciate great Burgundy, you’ve got to cut your teeth on good Bordeaux’.

Outside of France, Iglesias collects Spanish icon wines from Rioja and Ribera del Duero, particularly (perhaps still longingly) Vega Sicilia, as well as Pesquera, Pingus and CVNE Imperial. ‘I’ve recently got much more interested in Spanish wines’, he tells me. ‘I love trying wines from lesser-known Spanish regions like Calatayud, Jumilla and Zamora’. He dips his toe in the New World via Australia, South Africa, California and Argentina, but his wine heartland is very much Bordeaux and Burgundy. ‘My latest obsession is Pinot Noir,’ he tells me excitedly. ‘Romanée-Conti from a good year is absolutely unforgettable. When made well it’s so approachable young. You don’t have to wait for it, which is great, because I don’t have too much time.'

Article originally published in Decanter magazine

Camino Puerto del Canario

It's a chilly late September evening and I'm at London Bridge City Pier about to board the Thames Clipper to Canary Wharf. Only this is no ordinary ship - it's a Sherry ferry.

To celebrate the launch of Camino Puerto del Canario, sister restaurant to Camino King's Cross, showman owner Richard Bigg has rounded up a troop of willing guinea pigs to be transported to the venue by boat.

We're given the signal to board, and our uproarious group, made up of wine hacks, food bloggers and the odd chancer or two besieges the boat, scrambling excitedly for window seats. As I pace to the front, I'm handed a large glass, which is promptly filled with a generous slug of Tio Pepe Fino.

Having secured a window seat, the Sherry ferry chugs into action and I'm treated to epic views of the Thames by night. As I sip my Sherry and nibble on a slither of Manchego, Tower Bridge comes into view. I would never typically consider taking the boat to work in the morning, but it's a magnificent way to see the city. And drinking Sherry on public transport feels deliciously decadent - one in the eye for Boris.

My glass is topped up and I soon spy the flashing lights of One Canada Square, where I once did work experience at the Daily Telegraph. Barely have we set sail and we're already at our destination. I'm slightly disappointed at the Sherry ferry's efficiency, as I was hoping for a longer voyage, but there's no time to think as we're ushered off and told to leave our glasses on deck. Most are empty. Back on dry land the Tio Pepe has gone to my head. I'm blaming the boat.

Before we even make it inside we're served Cava in old-fashioned flat Champagne glasses. It seems like Mr Bigg is on a mission to get us intoxicated. The venue is seconds from the boat stop, on the water's edge. Looking across the river, bright lights flicker against the black backdrop. The city seems pregnant with promise, and I get the feeling that I'm part of something big, as if stepping back from the city allows you to see it properly for the first time. This could be the Cava talking.

Soon I'm inside and being given a tour of the kitchens. Plates of pata negra ham do the rounds, and I grab a handful to munch on. The Sherry ferry has whetted my appetite and we're not sitting down to eat until the very Spanish hour of 9. The restaurant has an industrial feel– set in a large square space with open brickwork and wooden floors, the bar and restaurant are divided by cage-like barriers. It doesn't feel as cosy as Camino King's Cross, but I don't think it's supposed to.

I have a quick sip of Ferran Adria's home brew: Inedit, which tastes like honey and lemon Lockets, then it's time to sit down to eat. And boy did we eat: a 16-course Spanish banquet including stuffed figs, octopus tentacle, black rice with cuttlefish, Ibérico black pig shoulder blade, and the apogee: Scottish rib-eye steak cooked on a charcoal grill from Bilbao then rubbed with rock salt. Rare, tender and ridiculously juicy, it was a seriously sexy slice of meat.

The wines on the night also delighted, from the Valdeorras based Bodegas Valdesil Godello 2007 - fresh, crisp, textured, complex and elegant; a Godello worth waiting for, to the Viñas del Vero Pinot Noir 2008, with Burgundian notes of cherry, raspberry and violet. Matched with the meat was a wine from Bigg's Big Guns list: Cillar de Silos Torre Sillo 2007 from Ribera del Duero. Opulent, rich, ripe and sweet, it's as close as you can get to drinking velvet. Other highlights of the Cañones Grandes list include Lopez de Heredia Viña Tondonia 1982, Vega Sicilia Unico 1999 and Alvaro Palacios Finca Dofi 2006.

From the quirky voyage on the Sherry ferry to the cracking open of the big guns, Richard Bigg certainly knows how to put on a show, and I'm sure his sister venue across the river will pull in hoards of hispanophile punters. The Big Guns list should certainly prove a draw for high rolling city boys out to impress big cheese clients. With new outposts of Roka, Canteen and Wahaca also recently opened in Canary Wharf, the financial district is now firmly on the culinary map.

Camino Canary Wharf launch night

Wine and the City caught up with Richard Bigg, owner of Camino, at the launch of Camino Puerto del Canario in Canary Wharf on Tuesday night to get the scoop on the new riverside restaurant - blog to follow...

Fine Wine 2010, Ribera del Duero

I've just got back from three intense and exciting days at the Fine Wine 2010 conference in Ribera del Duero organized by market research company Wine Intelligence.

The conference drew some of the wine world's big guns, including Michael Mondavi, Olivier Krug, Serge Hochar and Ernst Loosen, who all tried to define the term 'fine wine' and what it means for the consumer.

Fresh from judging at the IWC, Tim Atkin MW opened the conference with an engaging speech urging for a new definition of the term 'fine wine' beyond Bordeaux and called for an end to the wine world's obsession with Bordeaux, or 'Bordeaux-itis' as he christened it.

Atkin warned about the wine world becoming like Wall Street, accusing investors of losing sight of wine's true purpose: ‘Fine wine is becoming a source of investment. We’ve lost sight of what wine is all about – pulling a cork and enjoying it with friends. Wine is in danger of turning into a commodity to be traded’.

He also accused wine writers, particularly American journalists, of talking about wines with 'an absence of context’ and only considering what was in the bottle. ‘American wine writers have forgotten where wine comes from. I find it unbelievable that Robert Parker only visited Spain for the first time last year.' The speech ended with a call to arms for journalists to travel to where the wine is made and get out into the vines - to experience the terroir first hand.

Fifth generation winemaker Mark Beringer, currently at the helm of Artesa Vineyards in Carneros, talked about a desire for simplicity in winemaking and going 'back to basics'. He touched on the increasing importance of organic, sustainable winemaking, and a growing trend for vegetarian and vegan wines.

According to Beringer, 2010 is a golden time for consumers, who look set to benefit from the dramatic discounting taking place in California. 'There is great value coming out of California at the moment. With less wine bring made at the premium level, the top wines are moving down through the pyramid and becoming more affordable'.

'Pricing is a real issue in Napa as there isn't much middle ground. The top wines aren't selling and are leaving wineries in a mess. It's great news for the consumer. Winemakers are becoming even more selective, and the reserve wines are truly reserve quality'. Beringer ended by stressing the importance of social media as a way of reaching out to consumers, taking a picture of fellow speakers Serge Hochar, Pablo Alvarez and Olivier Krug and posting it on twitter as he spoke.

Serge Hochar of Château Musar described fine wine as 'a state of mind', but conceded that a fine wine needed 'elegance, finesse, complexity and ageing potential' - recurring buzz words during the conference. He spoke of the globalization of the wine world, the importance of emerging markets like China and India, and the need for winemakers to visit these places to tell their story. Hochar also called for transparency in winemaking, and a need to make wines 'without edifice or make-up'.

Pablo Alvarez, of icon Spanish estate Vega Sicilia, spoke of the need for Spain to learn how to market their wines better, and to shout about them more unashamedly. Imbuing wines with personality was paramount, he said, as grape character is the only thing that can't be copied. Alvarez called for Spanish winemakers to get their wines out on the global stage and give them more of a presence, as phenomenal wines are coming out of the country.

Vega Sicilia tasting and tour

Before setting off for Fine Wine 2010, I was told there would be a tasting at Vega Sicilia. Excited by the prospect, I dug up an article by Serena Sutcliffe on the icon estate from the Decanter archives that incluced Unico tasting notes going back to 1924.

My anticipation grew as I read through the notes on the plane - the '85 had 'vibrant chocolate and dates on the finish', the '73 a 'heavenly spice-drenched taste' and the '64 'sweet, melting, violetty fruit', while the '51 was 'like orange caramel' and the '24 'like old, pale Madeira'. By the time I touched down in Madrid I was salivating. Sutcliffe had painted such a vivid picture in her notes of a wine with multiple personalities; a wine never the same twice. She described Unico's unpredictable nature as being more 'Dolce e Gabanna than Ferragamo - cutting edge rather than couture'.

Owner Pablo Alvarez, whose family bought the estate in 1982 - the same year Ribera del Duero became a DO, is notoriously private and rarely opens his doors to guests. Wine Intelligence, the conference organizers, managed to bag us a tasting and tour of the cellars. Alvarez's heart must have leapt when he saw our coach career up the gravel drive and 30 thirsty guests jump out.

I sat next to the legenday Serge Hochar of Lebanon's Chateau Musar on the ride up, who told me proudly he was Decanter's first 'Man of the Year'. He then talked me through his diary for the next month, which took in trips to China, Hong Kong and Japan, with a pit stop in Lourdes. 'I'll try and walk the Great Wall if I have a spare five minutes', he quipped.

Stepping out of the coach into the afternoon sun, it quickly became apparent that they do things differently at Vega Sicilia. The vines are cordened off by barbed-wire fences and the estate patrolled by stern men in khaki green armed with truncheons. We took our places around a series of tasting tables on the decking next to an in-built waterfall. I was beside Hunter Valley Semillon pioneer Bruce Tyrrell.

Four wines were brought out: Alion 2007, Valbuena 2006, released five years after the harvest with an average vine age of 25 years, and Unico 2002 and 1995, only made in great years and usually released after ten years. Valbuena is made almost entirely from Tinto Fino, (Tempranillo), while in Unico the Tinto Fino is blended with Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot and Malbec.

Among our group were Olivier Krug, former Duckhorn director of winemaking Mark Beringer, Catavino's Ryan Opaz and Canadian consultant sommelier John Szabo. Aged in 100% new French oak, the Alion was the most Bordeaux-like of the four wines. Although slightly overpowered by the oak, it was elegant and opulent. Balsamic vinegar dominated the Valbuena in a pleasant way, mixing with chewy red and black fruit, violets and licquorice.

Moving onto the Unico, my heart started beating a little faster. I was about to taste what many would describe as the greatest wine made in Spain. But would it live up to its name? Our table had a bad experience with the 2002 - Bruce Tyrrell declared it corked and we all solemnly nodded in agreement. A second bottle was summoned. I found it closed on the nose and struggled with fitting descriptors. A masculine, direct wine with good length and grip, it didn't live up to my high expectations.

Fortunately the 1995 did. It had a lovely developed nose that could only be Spanish, of game, meat and hints of dried fruit. A more feminie wine, it was silky, supple and rounded with excellent body, weight and depth. Opening up further in the glass, its savoury finish was exquisite. I was happy to have been given a second bite of the apple, and for it to have delivered. After the tasting I took myself off from the group and looked out onto the vines, watching the sun slowly dip towards the horizon, turning the sky conch shell pink.

Caballeros dinner at The Dorchester

Being a huge fan of Spanish wine, I was delighted to get a phone call last week from a winemaker friend, Amelia Aragon, inviting me to the annual dinner of the loftily-titled Gran Orden de Caballeros del Vino at the Dorchester.

Accepting her offer without hesitation, I set about trying to find a suitable dress for the occasion. I mentioned the dinner to a colleague and she looked and me pitifully. 'Poor you', she said, rolling her eyes. 'All I remember are the interminable speeches. Make sure you're sat near the back so you can talk.'

Undeterred, I was determined to have a good night. Donning my hot pink ruffle dress in the office after work, I hotfooted it over to Park Lane, and tried my best to glide swan-like into the ballroom, passing a smiling, tuxedo-clad Steven Spurrier en route.

The Gran Orden de Caballeros del Vino was set up 26 years ago as a way of promoting and developing knowledge of Spanish wines in the UK. Each year two new members join the likes of Oz Clarke and Tim Atkin and are invested into the order for their exceptional contribution to the promotion of quality Spanish wines in the UK.

Tonight we were to witness the knighting of the order's two newest recruits. Grabbing a glass of Cava, I made my way over to my menagerie of a table. It was full of familiar faces: a radiant Amelia, her cheeky-looking brother Oscar, head chef of Brindisa José Pizarro, M&S winemaker Jo Ahearne and Richard Bigg, the charismatic owner of Spanish restaurant Camino and soon-to-open Sherry bodega Bar Pepito. I was sat next to a tall, jazz-loving Fin called William, a Cambridge undergraduate, who got me talking on subjects as diverse as the merits of atheism and the orgasmic potential of Mozart.

We got to enjoy some sensational wines, my favourite being the Bodegas Naia Naiades 2006 from Rueda. Recommended recently by José Peñin in Decanter as one of the Spanish whites to watch and winner of the best white over £10 in the New Wave Spanish Wine Awards '09, I was blown away by its complexity and depth. Made from Verdejo from pre-phylloxera vines then fermented and aged in new French oak for 8 months, the result is a vibrant mix of ripe, honeyed fruit, structure and richness.

The food was outstanding too, from the seafood 'guisito' with Jerusalem artichoke and blood orange foam to start, and the perfectly pink loin of salt marsh lamb with wild mushrooms for main, to the divine desert: pear poached in Moscatel with shavings of dark chocolate.

Other wines in the line up included a delicious golden Manzanilla Pasada Pastrana from Javier Hidalgo and the Chivite Colección 125 Vendemia Tardía 2007 from Navarra. The sweet wine from 40-year-old vines had hints of ginger that lingered in the long, luscious finish.

While I was busy enjoying all this liquid pleasure, the new Caballeros were announced: Decanter's own Sarah Jane Evans MW and Pablo Alvarez, head of iconic Ribera del Duero producer Vega Sicilia. Before the new recruits were knighted, the current Caballeros paraded into the ballroom in their fire engine red robes and gold-rimmed mortarboards. Cue graduation flashbacks.

The evening was rounded off with Spanish cheese and a speech from Allan Cheesman about time, energy and money, and how you never have them all at once. As the Brandy de Jerez made its way round I made a dash for the exit, swapping my Cinderella shoes for a practical pair of ballet pumps for the tube ride home. Leaving the ballroom behind, I fished my i-pod from my bag and stepped out into the chilly spring night, aware of what a wonderfully paradoxical life I lead.