A Ros(é) by Any Other Name: June 2021 Book + Bottle Pairing

THE BOOK

With father’s day upcoming and mother’s day just past, we at B + B have had family on the mind. In fiction, when done well, there is no more interesting dynamic than family in flux. In Hamnet by Maggie O'Farrell, this is done very well. 

Hamnet follows the story of Shakespeare’s son, for whom the story is named, in alternating story lines both of his conception and his parent’s whirlwind romance and of Hamnet’s own untimely death. 

Many historians have hypothesized the effect that Hamnet’s death had on Shakespeare’s work; most of all, its effect on his most famous play Hamlet, a common alternate spelling of his son’s first name. Maggie O’Farrell instead shows us the effect that Hamnet’s death has on Agnes, O’Farrell’s Anne Hathaway, and him, Shakespeare. A reverse from the narrative we’re familiar with, her Shakespeare, who remains unnamed, plays the role of spectre to the untimely death of his son. Leading us, the reader, to ask the question: Who is haunting whom? 

Like all of Maggie O’Farrell’s heroines, Agnes is a wonderfully interesting woman, and through her narrative structure, we are able to see both the young Agnes, falcon handler and intrepid woman falling deeply in love, and the mother Agnes, creating a home only to have it rocked by a terrible loss.

Just out in paperback, we wanted to get this new take on a classic tale into your hands as soon as possible.

THE WINE

There were so many options to pair with a book about Shakespeare. In the play Hamlet, the only wine distinctly mentioned was a German white wine, probably a riesling, in the line “he drains his draughts of Rhenish down.” Rhenish being wine from the Rhine Valley in Germany, a light white wine, probably riesling.

The king doth wake tonight and takes his rouse,

Keeps wassail and the swaggering upspring reels,

And, as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down,

The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray out

The triumph of his pledge.

-Hamlet Act 1, Scene 4

As many of you know, I love a good riesling, but this time it just wasn’t doing it for me. It wasn’t quite enough and didn’t have enough story behind it. I wanted something else. Instead, I looked deeper into the life of the Bard to what he might have been drinking while writing his great works. Just as O’Farrell’s book Hamnet explores the life of Shakespeare, this pairing will relate more to the life of the poet himself than with the direct words of his works. William Shakespeare lived in England from 1564 to 1616. During this time, there was a relatively undramatic political scene with Queen Elizabeth I and King James I of England ruling England. England was in the start of its global heyday and began to have the power to direct international trade. The Canary Islands were one such place that burgeoned as an economy in order to grow things for the kingdom. The Canary Islands belong to Spain and are located off the northwest coast of Africa. They lie strategically on the trade routes that were being developed between England, Africa, and the new world. The grape vines that grow there are a variety known as malvasía - they were originally brought to the islands from Crete by Henry the Navigator in the 1400s. They produce a lot of sugar as they ripen and therefore could be used not only as a replacement for sugarcane, but also to make a sweet wine that the Brits loved.

Let’s talk about grape sugar for a sec. Some grapes ripen early which means they’re quick to develop all those fruit sugars that make them taste delectable on the vine - ripe and sweet. Others will ripen later, keeping that tart underripe acidity for longer into the season. As grapes ripen, the acidity levels go down and the sugar levels go up. Now, both acid and sugar can be used to preserve food/drink products, but what would you rather drink - something sweet or something acidic (like vinegar)? The ideal answer is something perfectly balanced between the two, like a refreshing lemonade, but back in these days, products needed to be preserved for long ocean rides and so sugar proved to be one of the best ways to do this. It also didn’t hurt that the tastes of the time leaned toward the sweet. Over the course of history, wine has been drunk on a continuum of very dry to very sweet, and at the moment that Shakespeare was alive, most people were drinking sweet things. In order to preserve the malvasía wine from the coast of Africa on its journey north to England, the wine was vinified sweet.

Most likely, Shakespeare would have drunk sweet wine made of malvasía from the Canary Islands at some point during his writing career. While the tastes of people today are beginning to edge back to the dry end of the wine sweetness spectrum, there is definitely still a time and a place for this sweet wine - dessert, maybe? Or with a rich paté or some pungent cheese? Don’t diss it before you try it. Here at B + B, we’re BIG advocates of sweet dessert wines and are trying to triumph their comeback.

But alas, the wine for this pairing is not a dessert wine, though it is a malvasía. Many grapes can be vinified, or processed, into either dry or sweet wine. Sauternes, a classic example, is a sweet wine made from Semillon and Sauvignon Blanc, which many of us have drunk as dry wines. Likewise, sherry can be dry and savory or rich and sweet. And the list goes on. As we mentioned above, the malvasía from the Canary Islands originally came from the mediterranean, namely, Crete. Straight up the Adriatic Sea from Crete is Slovenia - right to the east of Italy and a few countries north of Greece. We don’t often think of Slovenia for wine now, but once upon a time, it was one of the major producers in the world. And, they’re still making amazing wines. Interesting how the power of the export market changes demand… Anyway, malvasía can be white or red, but the one we’re talking about today is a white grape.

The wine we’ve paired with Hamnet is a white malvasia from Slovenia from a winery called Rodica, and there they call it malvazija. The winery is completely organic and they focus on grapes that are indigenous to the mediterranean and the Istrian region, which we love. When you drink this wine, you’ll really get a sense of place - it tastes of the mediterranean and of classic malvasia. The wine is dry, as we mentioned, but the fruits and flowers that it expresses on the nose and palate make you think sweet - sweet acacia, fragrant ripe peach, fields of flowers, and a minerally finish. It’s got body to it, and some weight. It feels rich and indulgent. I would pair this wine with a creamy fish dish, or pungent truffled pasta, or fresh shrimp that are still sweet from the sea. The weight of the wine comes from two sources - on the one hand, the wine is aged in acacia barrels (which lends a different flavor than the vanilla and spice that American oak delivers) for a six months before its moved into stainless steel for the rest of its aging. But secondly, the grapes spend a little time on their skins. Let’s discuss this more.

In general, white wine is made by taking grapes (usually white, but can be pink or red, too) and pressing them very quickly to get the juice off the skins as quickly as possible. Then, the juice is fermented into wine. On the other hand, red wine is made by squishing the grapes and letting the juice and skins ferment together which extracts all the rich pigments from the skins of the grapes, making the wine, well, red. Sometimes white grapes can be pressed and left on their skins for a bit to extract some color, body, and flavors from the skins. This is called Orange Wine. Orange wine originated in the area around Italy and Slovenia, so this is a super authentic way to make wine in this region, but it just so happens that it’s also kinda trendy right now. We’ve got another orange wine from Slovenia on our by the glass list right now, and it’s so “orange” that its pink - if I didn’t tell you, you’d probably think it was rosé. This Rodica malvasia isn’t pink, and it’s not even orange in color, but you’ll notice more golden notes that come from the grape skins. It’s very pretty. This one only spends about a week marinating in its own skins before its pressed off, whereas some can spend a year or more.

So to come full circle to why I love this pairing, we’ve got an orange wine which is similar to rosé (a stretch, I know…) and it’s rosé month. Also, this is the same grape that Shakespeare would have enjoyed in his day, but in a format that is a bit more appealing to the modern palate. It’s not from the Canary Islands but from a little closer to its homeland in the mediterranean. See how much I love weaving the history and stories of wine, pulling the threads thin enough to get me where I want to go, but keeping them strong enough to stay together? I hope you’ve enjoyed this worldwide exploration through time and place to get you a Shakespearean inspired wine. Enjoy!

READ MORE

Other Maggie O’Farrell novels: https://www.maggieofarrell.com/landing-page/maggie-ofarrell/maggie-ofarrell-books/

https://www.azureazure.com/gastronomy/malvasia-the-canarian-wine-that-seduced-shakespeare/

https://vinepair.com/wine-blog/a-complete-guide-to-wine-from-the-canary-islands/

"A rose by any other name would smell as sweet"

- Romeo & Juliet