Cork Report | Barbara Ensrud | Madeira: The Founders' Favorite

Madeira: The Founders' Favorite

By Barbara Ensrud

If you’re thinking of hoisting a glass to toast the birth of the Republic 229 years ago this July 4, consider broaching a bottle of Madeira. That’s very likely how the Founding Fathers celebrated the signing of the Declaration of Independence in Philadelphia in 1776.

Actually, they “broached” it by the cask. George Washington, notes biographer Joseph Ellis in the recent best seller, His Excellency, “purchased his wine, usually Madeira, by the butt (150 gallons) and by the pipe (110 gallons).” Thomas Jefferson noted in his journal at Monticello shortly before heading to Philadelphia to work on final drafts of the Declaration: “Broached a pipe of Madeira, vintage 1770.” He stocked bottles and corks by the gross at Monticello to store the wines after opening the cask.

Madeira, the rich amber nectar from the Portuguese islands of Madeira off the coast of North Africa, was a great favorite of the first patriots, not only Washington and Jefferson, but Ben Franklin, John Hancock, John Jay, James Madison and numerous other Revolutionary heroes. It’s something of a forgotten wine today, but if you taste it, you will at once understand why they liked it.

Aromas of dried fig, burnt toffee, toasted oak, butterscotch and a mingle of other subtleties are just the first enticement of sweet Madeira–Bual and Malmsey. Those flavors follow through with the first sip, a silky richness of texture balanced with bracing acidity that makes the wine seem lighter than it is. Little wonder the Founders kept a stock of it at hand.

As one of the world’s classic fortified wines (along with port and sherry), Madeira is distinctively different. For one thing, it never goes “off,” never spoils the way other wines—sooner or later—inevitably do, turning to vinegar in the course of their natural life. It’s due to the process used in making it. Fortified wines are fermented like other wines, but at a designated point brandy is added to stop fermentation by killing the yeasts. Thus “fortified,” they end up 19 or 20 percent alcohol instead of the usual 12 to 14 percent for table wines. They are then aged in an oak cask or barrel until ready for bottling and shipping.

Madeira, however, is subjected to a further step: The young wine is heated in large estufa (ovenlike structures) to 120 degrees Fahrenheit. This treatment would destroy any other wine; in fact, when other wines spoil, oxidize and turn brown, they are said to be maderized. But the heating serves only to enhance the character and flavor of Madeira, making the richest, sweetest ones virtually indestructible. The wines are aged further by storing them in cask on rooftops or rooms exposed to sun.

Very old bottles of Madeira—dating to the 1800s—are becoming rarer all the time as they are purchased and consumed, but even those that are 30, 40, 70 years old are incredibly beautiful— such as the 1934 Bual Madeira I am sipping right now. Importer Bartholomew Broadbent, of Broadbent Selections in San Francisco, told me some years back that it would only get better. “I’ve never known one to go off after it’s been opened,” he said.

The best Madeira is labeled by grape name, which must make up 85 percent of the wine so labeled.

Malmsey, as it was known even in Shakespeare’s day (there might be worse ways to go than being drowned in a butt of Malmsey like the Duke of Clarence in Richard III), is actually a corruption of the term malvasia, the grape that produces the sweetest, richest Madeira, which gets better and better as it ages in cask. Five-year-old Malmsey is good—burnt toffee, chocolate and caramel flavors, but 10-year is smoother, more complex; older ones are even more nuanced, the richness tinged with walnut.

Bual (sometimes spelled boal). I particularly like the silkiness and graceful structure of Bual; almost as sweet as Malmsey, but the tang of acidity is more prominent; a 15-year-old is luscious and lovely. Some younger ones can be a better value than Malmsey of the same age.

Verdelho (also known as Rainwater). Paler in color than the dark amber of the sweeter wines, Verdelho has a lighter sweetness level but it is still an after-dinner wine, excellent with nut tarts, delicate cakes and savory cheeses such as aged Gouda—especially if lightly cooled on hot summer nights (but not chilled). Older ones are more intense.

Sercial. Driest of the Madeiras, dry being a relative term here. Sercial is off-dry, more in the manner of amontillado sherry rather than bone-dry fino. Pale gold in color, it makes a lovely aperitif, especially this time of year. It is also best cooled somewhat, but not over-chilled, which numbs the scent. Bring it out of the fridge to allow the slightly nutty, toasty, faint tang-of-the-sea aromas to emerge. Its crisp off-dry character is delightful to sip and often accompanies a soup course.

Even the drier Madeiras—Sercial and Verdelho—age impressively. Emanuel Berk, Madeira specialist at the Rare Wine Company in California, notes that “Some of the great wines we have tasted from the late 1800s have been Verdelhos.”

Vintage Madeiras must spend a minimum of 20 years in cask to bear a vintage date. They are expensive, often hundreds of dollars a bottle. So the producers and shippers of Madeira have introduced newer styles that are more affordable. Blandy’s, for instance, has come out with Alvada, a dark, potent blend of Malmsey and Bual, currently about $17 a bottle (500 ml, a convenient new size) in local wine shops.

Colheita. Madeira is vintage-dated and must spend at least seven years aging in cask. Several producers, including Barbeito, Blandy’s and Broadbent Selections, have a Colheita 1995, ranging from $33 to $44 a bottle.

Many of the Madeira brand names—Blandy, Cossart Gordon, Leacock, Henriques—are quite old family names on the island, but newer names such as Barbeito or Broadbent (Justino Henriques) also own old stocks of fine Madeira. All produce inexpensive blends, but they lack the distinction of the better wines.

This July 4th, toast Uncle Sam with Madeira. If you’re dining out, try it by the glass at Triangle such as 518 West, Magnolia Grill or Bloomsbury Bistro. Or crack open a bottle if you’re grilling at home—don’t worry about not finishing it off. It will keep quite well till next year—and several Fourths thereafter.

For more information about Madeira and rarified bottles, check out these sites:
www.blandys.com
www.broadbent-wines.com
www.rarewineco.com