lost in the supermarket
I'm all lost in the supermarket
I can no longer shop happily I came in here for that special offer A guaranteed personality—The Clash, Lost in the Supermarket
Before I entered the wine industry, I usually bought wine at the supermarket with my regular groceries. I knew a little about wine, but my purchases were simply based on price and place. For instance, I usually bought wine from France or Spain because I’d been on holiday there many times.
There’s nothing wrong with that approach, based on familiarity and reminiscence. There’s one wine I used to buy regularly, called “Llebre” which means “hare” in Catalan. It was a little bit more expensive than the average wine but still very affordable. The first time I bought it, I just picked it off the shelf because it was Spanish and had a drawing of a hare on the orange label (I come from Blackpool whose football team plays in tangerine): superficial decisions can have positive, unexpected results.
The wine intrigued me because I learnt that “Ull de Llebre” is the Catalan name for Tempranillo. This is how wine takes you down, so to speak, the rabbit hole. What are the other names for Tempranillo in Spain? Cenicero, Tinto Fino, Tinto de Madrid, Tinta del País, and in Portugal its Tinta Roriz and Aragones. Just one glass of the wine was an insight into both Spanish and Portuguese history, language, and culture.
No one in the supermarket could have told me any of this. I had to figure it out myself, something I love doing. But, in any retail situation, being able to ask for information about a product is so useful and also sociable. Supermarkets are necessary and a weekly part of our lives, but they are also routine—they don’t add to our lives beyond what we buy.
“Llebre” is a wine made by Tomàs Cusiné, who has been making wine since 1985 and established his own winery in 2003. He’s based in Costers del Segre in Catalunya. It’s inland and the region is desert like: it’s not straightforward to make wines there.
New to the club is “No Skin Contact” as it receives just four days maceration, resulting in a pale, light wine with crunchy black fruits which will be delicious with any chorizo-based dish. It's a lovely example of hands-off winemaking that's all about the fruit profile and the small vineyard it comes from rather than a generic wine that tastes like it could come from anywhere.
Wines in supermarkets are often very commercial and unexciting, but they can lead you into unexpected directions. If it weren’t for Tomàs Cusiné, I wouldn’t have this wine club and be selling his more experimental wines. Every bottle of wine pushes you forwards to who knows where.