Mad, Mad, Madeira World

It is intricate. It is a style off the usual maps. It is made with curious methods and undersung grapes. It is the freelancer ready to go viral if only the world could get (back) into it—which there is no better time to do than mid-winter. The historic Madeira intel cites that the founding fathers drank it to celebrate inking the Declaration of Independence. Enjoy that factoid…if stanning the patriarchy is what you’re into. Prior to that, in 1478, the Duke of Clarence was purportedly drowned in Malmsey (one of the sweetest Madeiras) for committing treason. Snack that tidbit…if corporeal punishment is your jam. If none of these things light your lantern, then try a few different styles of Madeira and learn how delicious it is. Unless you aren’t into deliciousness, which would be weird. While you gather some bottles, how about a few of the factual facts about Madeira so you can better understand what is in your glass? While an autonomous region of Portugal, Madeira hails from the eponymous archipelago 600m from Morocco—so closer to Africa than Portugal. It was “discovered” in the 1400s, colonized by the Portuguese, and (fast forward) in the 17 and 1800s, as the English wine trade grew – the Madeira wines were exported and frequently fortified to sustain the transatlantic journey to the United States and the West Indies. Eventually, it was realized that the rollicking waves and heat of the sea trips had an ameliorative effect on the vino. Rather than sending the wines on a full-on luxury cruise to the States and back, they enticed them with a timeshare in Canteiro and, at some point, even an Airbnb in Estufagem. Ahem. All of which is to metaphorically say ways were devised to get sea time cooking benefits in SOMEWHAT faster (canteiro) and eventually MUCH faster (estufagem) aging systems, to impart the same effects as those journeys. This is a lot, I know. (History! Science! Hearsay!). The basics to be aware of are that these wines are sophisticated, fortified, and basically cooked, so they have elevated alcohol, are usually not dry (up to very sweet), and last forever. Seriously. Heat doesn’t kill them. Nor oxidation. Even opened, Madeira can age ad infinitum. Grapes! I thought you’d never ask. A wine novice, I was mostly educated on four varieties that corresponded to sweetness levels from least to most: Sercial, Verdelho, Bual, and Malmsey. And then there are Tinta Negra, Terrantez, and Malvasia. Generally, for the first four (Sercial to Malmsey), gauge dry (ish) to full-on sweet. The other grapes will display varying levels of skewing sweetness. Oh! And acid and smoke, if blind tasted on fortified wines, look for them. Along with the level of sweetness and alcohol, they are significant clues. I could continue, but I am saving it for my MW dissertation. Onto the wines. One of the BEST things about getting to know Madeira is tasting the more aged of the bunch that show no signs of letting go. Here we go: 1999 Broadbent Madeira Colheita Made from Tinta Negra in canteiro. A caramel glaze about to burn brown color, veering into golden brown at the rim. Utterly mouthwatering (and I should say nose quivering) aromas of caramel, brown sugar, sugarcane, molasses, coffee, and dark chocolate, plus a hint of earth and smoke. It is sweet, oh yes, it is, but the acid is bracing. The palate confirms the nose with the addition of caramelized grapefruit, figs, dates, and cocoa. Geez Louise, it’s good. Almost cola on the finish. NV The Rare Wine Co. Savannah Verdelho Special Reserve Madeira 19.5% abv! A not-apologetic vibe, the guts to be actually 85% Verdelho and 15% Tinta Negro. Slight paint thinner and amber rye honey nose ballasted by the extreme salivation. The acid creates balance once a sip is broached. Velvety yet gripping, the palate mimics the nose with a whiff of grass, finishing with honey and hay. NV Blandy’s 10-Year-Old Blandy’s Bual Hiiiii, the nuttiness is so pronounced until you get deep dark blackberry jam bits—just a tad—conjuring PBJ sandwiches. But the body is ultimately mid-weight. Then comes toffee. And caramel. All the smoky cooked sugars you can imagine with a hit of VA pleasantly enlightening all. 2001 Henriques & Henriques Malvasia Madeira This is going into full-fledged cold-brew territory, color-wise (aka translucent but brownnnnnnn just barely going into amber and water-white at the rim). It’s pungent with nail polish interlaced with hazelnut vibes on the nose. The palate brings on so many tropicals and florals to the iced coffee cocktail hour. Along with medium-grain tannins and not-burning-but-burn-esque alcohol yielding orange rind romance. Absolutely beautiful and just giving a LOT, so sip slowly. This bottle lasts, or at least it can. If you have the discipline (I thought I would, and enjoyed a third and a date shared the rest with me). 1988 The Rare Wine Company D'Olivereiras Terrantez Thirty-one years in French oak! Almost vanilla paste, vanilla flower and candied white currant nose. Coffee, caramelized nuts, candied orange peel, and fresh lemon rind on the palate with cutting acid. All this courses through the finish but with toast. NV Leacock’s Rainwater Medium Dry Madeira While no longer derived from shilling rain-struck goods, it is rain-a-liscious and lighter over the form of smoky caramelized citrus rind and, my gosh, straight-up fresh rind. Along with the others. It finishes in the grapefruit zone, complementing cinnamon, clove, fresh raw cranberry and succor. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Want to read more from Ellen? Check out her recent articles: Crémant On Unexpected Reds Finding Pleasure in Puglia Black Cat Wines, Black Cat Vineyards Old World vs. New World: Pinot Grigio/Gris Santa Cruz: Something New You can also listen to Ellen's podcast , The Wine Situation here . Check out her recent transcripts of the Final Five questions: Wine Situation Final Five! Natalie MacLean Wine Situation Final Five! Ellie Anest