Of Fruit and Flora

While English wine has its moment in the sun, it's a different story under the not-so-sunny Scottish skies. 

Back in 2015 Christopher Trotter of Chateau Largo, a 200-grape variety vineyard in Fife, learned the hard way that soggy Scottish summers are no good for Sauvignons. Grey skies, relentless downpours three summers in a row and general Scottish “dreichness” (overcast and with a dampness that clings to your skin) put the kibosh on even the hardiest grape – even the German Solaris and Rondo. After several reviews of Chateau Largo’s first bottles were labelled as “not great” and even “undrinkable”, Christopher uprooted his vines and the dream of Scottish wine wilted once more. 

A small operation started up a year earlier, in 2014, on the island of Lewis in the Outer Hebrides where Donald Hope grew a 20-vine vineyard from a single seedling, branding his operation the North-westerly-most vineyard in the UK. For a while his Black Muscat wine could be bought from local farmer’s markets and was overall deemed “quite nice, actually” by those that tried it. After he retired in 2015, the dream of Scottish wine was put on hold again. 

Well, Scottish grape wine, that is.

While Christopher was planting his doomed grapevines, and Donald was hawking his few bottles at local markets, another kind of winery had already come to fruition in Perthshire. 

Cairn O’Mohr fruit wines was born in 1987, beginning life after Judith and Ron Gillies started brewing up moonshine-style wines at an eye-watering 20%+ ABV. Rather than fannying around with Pinots and Semillions in a climate that simply doesn't work for grape-growing, they used the abundance of natural flora around their 19th-century farmstead.

After over 30 years in the business, they’ve managed to emulate the mellow tang of a Pinot Noir in the bramble wine, and recreate the floral notes of a riesling in their elderflower and gooseberry number. Just like grape wines, the fruit wines at Cairn O’Mohr are aged, the entire process can take anywhere between 3.5 and 6 years.  

It’s not just about creating wine that tastes like traditional grape wines. Some of the bottles are homages to the soft fruit themselves. Cairn O’Mohr want to stay true to the fruit and avoid creating an overly sweet wine. Unlike grape wines, when someone selects a fruit wine they expect it to taste like the fruit. So their redcurrant wine stays tart and tangy, true to its roots. Perfect for a balmy summer evening in the garden.

As well as soft fruit sourced from Scotland’s local farmland, the staff at Cairn O’Mohr forage for some of their ingredients. A deal with local landowners means they have a healthy crop of oak leaves, brambles, gorse flowers and meadowsweet to add another level of flavour to each bottle. 

Their fruit wine is seasonal. The strawberry wine, for example, is made in the late days of summer. Sure, they could source strawberries from Spain year-round, but with the best strawberries in the UK grown and sourced at nearby Blair Atholl, there’s no point in looking elsewhere. Besides, how could a wine made from Spanish strawberries claim to be a Scottish wine?

Many a restaurant around the East Neuk of Fife will tout a Selkirk Island wine, with its kilted warrior on the label, as a Scottish wine. But the grapes were grown and the barrels aged in Chile, and bottled near St Andrews for that claim to Scottish fame. Not to get too philosophical about it, but that's not a Scottish wine. In fact, the label itself says "wine of Chile". 

Cairn O’Mohr fruit wines and ciders are stocked in farm shops and independent off-licences all over the UK. If you’re lucky enough to visit the winery itself, you’re in for a treat. Tours and tastings are available; everything you expect from a vineyard visit in the South of France or Stellenboch, but with a big pinch of rustic charm. Wood carvings and outdoor sculptures dot the old farmstead buildings and there’s a tree-house feel to the outdoor café-bar area which buzzes to life in the summer months.

Perhaps Scotland is one day due a series of sunny summers, and the Solaris and Rondo grapes will grow fat and ripe on the vine. But until then, it makes no sense to force a grape wine culture when the rugged landscape and terroir lends itself to soft fruit and juicy berries.

Besides, on a hot summers day, a crisp cool glass of rhubarb wine goes down just as easy as a rosé.