Moldova (3): Orheiul Vechi and the Cricova Winery:

Moldova

Orheiul Vechi

After breakfast N arrived with her driver Leonid and we set off for Orheiul Vechi 60km north of Chişinău.

As the geography of Moldova is not generally well-known (and that may be an understatement), here is a map.

Orheiul Vechi is 60km north of the capital

We drove for an hour through flat agricultural land, seeing very little in the way of settlements.

Our destination was Orheiul Vechi (Old Orhei) – modern Orhei is 15km further north - a medieval city at the western extreme of the lands of the Turkicised Mongols known as the Golden Horde.  It was left in ruins in 1362 by the Tartars and what was left was burnt by marauding Crimean Tartars in 1506. Very little remains of the city, but its former site is a major attraction, Orheiul Vechi being dubbed the ‘Grand Canyon of Moldova’. That might be an overstatement; Moldova is not big on topography and any deviation from ‘flat’ is a cause of excitement, but it is a remarkable place.

Like the Grand Canyon there is little warning of what is to come as you roll through the flat Arizona desert or the lush, green Moldovan countryside. ‘We are there,’ N announced in a spot which looked like any other. ‘Leonid knows a special viewpoint,’ she added as Leonid pulled off the highway onto a grassy track. After bumping along for a couple of hundred metres we reached Leonid’s viewpoint – and indeed it was special.

The little River Răut describes an ‘S’ on its way to the River Dniester and has scoured itself into the surrounding high ground until finding hard rock. The result is like nothing we had seen before, the angles and curves so perfect it is difficult to believe they are entirely natural.

Orheiul Vechi

The viewpoint overlooks the smaller, tighter southern meander with the village of Butuceni lying to the right of a lower central ridge topped by an eroded footpath to the distant Orheiul Vechi Monastery.

Before heading into Butuceni we went to look into the northern meander…

Looking over the larger meander, Orheiul Vechi

….and over the larger village of Trebujeni and its distinctive yellow church with blue onion domes.

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Trebujeni

Our viewpoint had once been a Mongol fort….

N and Lynne walk back to the car across all that remains of the Mongol fort, Orheiul Vechi

….and as we descended to the river to enter Butuceni we passed the remains of their baths.

Mongol Baths, Orheiul Vechi

Butuceni

At the entrance to Butuceni is a small museum. There is not much to see, but they also sell a few handicrafts and the enterprise employs four women within their own village. We walked down the main street....

Butuceni

…to an old thatched cottage…

Thatched cottage, Butuceni

…set out to recall the life of times past.

Life in times past, Butuceni

Traditional embroidered shirts are still worn by men and women and can be seen even on the streets of Chişinău, though maybe they are now factory produced rather than individually hand-embroidered.

Embroidered shirts in the thatched corrgae, Butuceni

The Orheiul Vechi Hermit

Leaving the cottage, we climbed the ridge running down the centre of the meander.

On the path up to the central ridge above Butuceni

On the top there is a small bell tower…

The bell tower (and cross on the right) and a view of the much higher surrounding bank 

and a cross.

Cross on the ridge above Butuceni

Nearby a tunnel leads to a chapel hollowed out of the rock.

Hermit's chapel, Orheiul Vechi

The resident hermit did not welcome us, nor did he seem to resent our presence, he largely ignored us and carried on with his routine. The small cell at the back of the chapel equipped with a blanket and pillow did not look particularly comfortable, but it was an improvement on the bare cells in the next chamber. No one lives there now, but occasionally they provided shelter to travellers trapped in the village by bad weather.

Hermit's cells, Orheiul Vechi

N said that the man used to be an engineer and lived in Odessa with a wife and children. Always religious, he went on a retreat and discovered he had the vocation to be a hermit. How his family reacted to this news I can only guess. He duly found his way to Orheiul Vechi where he lives a simple life but claims not to be a proper hermit as he goes to the monastery for lunch every day.

A hole in the far side of the chapel led onto a ledge above the River Răut. There was, N said, an entrance here once, but it collapsed in an earthquake so it is now just a photo op.

On the ledge outside the hermit's chapel, Orheiul Vchi

Back inside we distracted the hermit long enough to buy a candle. Lynne likes to light a candle in these circumstances, whether those in her prayers benefit from the process is a moot point, but it can do no harm.

Lynne lights a candle, hermit's chapel, Orheiul Vechi

Orheiul Vechi Monastery

Leaving the hermit to his own company, we followed N towards the monastery further up the ridge.

Following N towards Orheiul Vechi Monastery 

I am not sure how old the monastery is but the buildings are modern. There are only half a dozen monks, young men who were chatting and working outside.

Orheiul Vechi Monastery

Inside the brightly painted church, signs assured us that Christ had risen, but that we must not cross the barrier – my Romanian must be improving.

Orheiul Vechi Monastery Church

Piles of printed sheets were available for visitors to take away, each one detailing a sin worthy of exclusion from paradise - pornography, swearing, pride, crossing barriers and more. They were only in Romanian (and my Romanian has not really improved that much) so we contented ourselves with a graphic depiction of the Judgement, Heaven and Hell.

Judgement, heaven and hell, Orheiul Vechi Style

Lunch in the 'Butuceni Eco-Resort'

Returning to the village, we walked to the rather grandly title Butuceni Eco-Resort. Full of restaurant and B&B signs, the village is geared up for the tourist hordes, but on this sunny Tuesday morning there had been no one but us.

The main street of Butuceni and the entrance to the 'eco-resort'

The ‘Eco-Resort’ was a couple of freshly painted village houses.

Butuceni Eco-Resort

We sat in the courtyard and lunched on coffee and apple tart (tartă de mere) – or was it apple cake (prăjitură cu mere). The apple is a humble and generally unexciting fruit, but sometimes, in a well- made French apple tart (tarte aux pommes), Portuguese apple cake (bolo de maçã) or Dorset apple cake it reaches unexpected heights. I will happily add this Moldovan tart (or cake) to my list of apple delights.

Lynne and a Moldvan apple cake (or tart), Butuceni Eco-Resort

All around was a frenzy of activity. In the kitchen to our left a woman was filling an army of pickling jars from steaming vats of vegetables, while her companions prepared the next batch. To our right house martins flew to and from a row of nests beneath the eves, beaks full of insects. Only we were idle.

With our apple cake reduced to a few crumbs and a small bill settled, we rejoined N and Leonid and reluctantly left the bucolic delights of Butuceni.

Cricova Winery

Cricova is half way back to Chişinău. Like most Moldovan towns, it seems largely invisible, but the vineyards were easy to find, as was the large car park and ticket office at the entrance to the tunnels.

The Cricova vineyards

The winery was on the other side of the elusive town, but we were at the quarry – or rather, mine – which provided the limestone to build Chişinău. The workings left 120km of tunnels below ground, with a steady temperature of 12° - perfect for wine storage. The winery acquired the tunnels in the 1950s and now uses about half for storage and a ‘wine emporium’.

Moldova sees few tourists, but this is the place they all come. Donning the sweaters we had been advised to bring, we settled into an electric buggy with a dozen or so companions of varying nationalities and headed into the tunnels.

Into the Cricova tunnels

We paused to inspect some barrels.

Lynne and some barrels, Cricova tunnels

At the next stop we were ushered through a door into a small cinema, handed a glass of sparkling wine and shown a film on its manufacture.

Refreshed and informed we went to see some of the ‘champagne method’ wine under production. At Purcari we had seen gyropalletes which mechanically – and very slowly - turn and tilt the bottles (a process known as remuage) so the sediment of the secondary fermentation falls into the neck from where it can be removed. At Cricova remuage is still done by hand (at least for the bottles on display) and a skilled worker can turn and tilt 30,000 bottles a day. Remuage takes six weeks by hand, one week by gyropallete.

Remuage explained, Cricova tunnels

We continued to the bottle store.

Bottle store, Cricova tunnels

Some of the bottles here are special because of their provenance….

1936 Pommard, Cricova

….others because of their owners. Below is Vladimir Putin’s wine – he celebrated his 50th birthday here in 2002 – and for balance there are also the collections of Angela Merkel and former US Secretary of State John Kerry.

Vladimir Putin's wine collection, Cricova

Yuri Gagarin visited in 1966 and, according to legend, was in the cellars for two days before being assisted out. His letter of thanks (or apology?) is on display.

Yuri Gagarin and his 'thank you' letter, Cricova

Cricova Tasting

Eventually we were shown into a room for our own tasting.

Lynne waiting for the tasting, Cricova

The were four wines:

Cricova Chardonnay was a strangely fruity wine considering it had spent (wasted?) 6 months in oak barrels. More an attempt at a new world style than traditional Burgundy it was let down by its lack of acidity.

Cricova Rosé, a 50/50 blend of Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot was darkish in colour but very light on the palate. Dry enough, but it was another wine which needed acidity to provide focus.

Three of the wines at the Cricova tasting

Codru Roşu (Red) Codru is the name of the local wine district. Also a Cabernet Sauvignon/Merlot blend, but this one 70/30, it was a run of the mill cheap Cabernet. I would be happy to drink a bottle of this any day, as long as I had not paid too much for it.

Muscat Sparkling Wine is made by the Charmat method (where secondary fermentation takes place in a tank rather than the bottle) used for Prosecco and Asti Spumante. I do not like Muscat at the best of times, but when it is this sweet I would pay not to drink it.

The wines we tasted yesterday at Purcari were individuals with carefully nurtured personalities, wines I would go out of my way to buy for a special occasion. Cricova, however, produces good solid commercial wines, like thousand of others on our supermarket shelves, pleasant and cheap enough to open without thought. They are rarely seen in the UK; although production costs are low in Moldova, after adding fixed costs they would be little cheaper than so many similar wines from closer to hand.

Back to Chişinău

It was a short drive back into Chişinău. ‘The older apartment blocks are limestone,’ N observed, thinking of the Cricova tunnels. ‘They are cooler in summer and warmer in winter than the newer concrete apartments.’ N lives in the northern suburb, so Leonid dropped her off as we passed.

In Soviet days all apartments were rented from the state. When Moldova became independent, tenants could buy their apartments for $100 and proof of residence. Home ownership rates are thus extraordinarily high. N’s grandmother had bought her apartment, and when she died N became the outright owner of a limestone apartment.

Leonid stopped to show us the State Circus building.

State Circus building, Chisinau

It looks modern, innovative and impressive from a distance, but closer to the cracks were showing.

Close up of the State Circus building, Chisinau

It is a metaphor for Moldova. The country’s population is officially 3.3 million, but N suggested there were really only 2 million, the rest were ‘elsewhere’. Her figures may have been plucked from the air, but any Moldovan of Romanian heritage – the vast majority – can legally obtain a Romanian passport, giving access to the whole EU. Even N, with a well-paid job (her description) and her own home said that when her Australian boyfriend goes home, she expects to go with him.

Diner at Plăcintă, Chişinău 

We dined at Plăcintă, where we ate lunch on Sunday. Stewed chicken with mamaliga, Moldova’s universal polenta-like dish, suited me fine, the chicken was well cooked and the salty grated cheese perked up the mamaliga. Lynne was happy with her chicken sausage and we enjoyed a bottle of Chateau Vartely Cabernet Sauvignon. The price/quality ratio in Moldova is outstanding. Vartely - Cricova standard or maybe a little classier - is available in the UK from Laithwaites and The Sunday Times Wine Club – but a bottle costs almost twice the Chişinău restaurant price.

Dinner at Placinta, Chisinau

Later we strolled up to the Arcul de Triumf where people were launching Chinese lanterns. It may have been connected with Sunday’s demonstrations about the mayoral elections, or, there again….

Chinese lanterns at the Arcul de Triomf, Chisinau

Moldova (and Transnistria) Posts

Part 1: Chisinau, a Modest Capital

Part 2: Purcari, Fine Moldovan Wine
Part 3: Orheiul Vechi and Cricova Winery
Part 4: Transnistria, a Day Out in a Non-existent Country

Moldova (2) Chateau Purcari and Fine Moldovan Wine

A Tour, Tasting and Lunch at Moldova's Premier Wine Chateau

Moldova

Chişinău to Purcari

After breakfast N arrived with her driver and we set off for Purcari in the southeast of the country.

As the geography of Moldova is not generally well-known (and that may be an understatement), here is a map.

We travelled from Chisinau to the village of Purcari in southeast Moldova

The village of Purcari is 110km from Chişinău, a journey of some 2 hours, including a coffee stop. Once out of the capital we rolled sedately along a well-maintained two-lane road through rich agricultural country with fields of maize and sunflower, and the occasional open meadow.

Geese in a meadow on the way to Purcari (and sorry about the reflection!)

I recall no towns or villages on the route, though the map says we passed through the centre of Căuşeni (pop 16,000). The houses were set back from the road among woods and we missed any business district/shopping area it may have. We paused there at a petrol station with a coffee shop; Moldova may be the poorest country in Europe but these were clean and well organised facilities – and they were not there for tourists, because there were none (except us!).

The smaller town of Ştefan Vodă lay just off the road and even after leaving the highway we missed Purcari village, driving straight to the winery. 'Chateau' Purcari nestles among trees, surrounded by a sea of vines.

Chateau Purcari

Cheateau Purcari

We were introduced to the Chateau’s representative who showed us round.

Purcari Winery

The ‘chateau’ was built in 2003 but wines have been made on this site since 1827 and were considered among the finest in the Russian Empire. Purcari wines were served to Queen Victoria, George V and the ill-fated Tsar Nicholas II and are, they claim still favoured by the British royal family. For all I know they may drink nothing else - Her Maj rarely never invites me round for an informal supper at the palace, so I am largely ignorant of her drinking habits, but a bottle from the Queen’s collection is prominently displayed at the winery. Berry Brothers and Rudd are Purcari’s UK agent and they have been official wine suppliers to the British Royal Family since the reign of King George III, so who knows….

Purcari wine from the royal collection

The winery thrived throughout the Soviet years; little Moldova and not much bigger Georgia, with less that a half of 1% of the USSR’s land between them produced most of its wine. Production at Purcari ceased for ten years after the dissolution of the USSR, but the winery was brought back to life in 2003 and set about restoring its reputation for quality.

The grapes come from the surrounding 260ha of vineyards.

Lynne and the Purcari Vineyards

Modelled on a Bordeaux chateau both in style and wine-making technique (Bordeaux is on a similar latitude but Purcari’s climate is more continental and less maritime), fermentation takes place in stainless steel vats (just like everywhere else so I did not bother with a photo), then matures in new French oak barrels.

Purcari wine resting in new French oak barrels

A sparkling wine has recently been added to the portfolio. Purcari uses the same Pinot Noir/Chardonnay blend as Champagne and produces its wine by the methode champenoise, meaning the secondary fermentation that produces the fizz happens in the bottle. Remuage is the slow inverting and twisting of the bottles at the end of that secondary fermentation to collect the sediment in the neck so it can be easily removed. Until relatively recently this was done by hand, but most remuage is now done mechanically in gyropalletes which reduces the time required from six weeks to one without loss of quality (according to the Champagne official website). Purcari has invested in a phalanx of these machines.

Gyropalettes, Purcari winery

Tasting at the Purcari Winery

During our tour the sun had conveniently found its way above the yardarm, so our guide took us for a small tasting and proved to be as knowledgeable about the products as she had about the process – and she spoke excellent English, too.

Lynne and our friendly and knowledgeable local guide, Purcari Winery

The accent at Purcari is on quality rather than mass production and this was evident throughout the tasting. It is also reflected in the prices, those quoted are mail order (in Moldova only) from the winery’s website and UK prices for wines available from Romanian-wine.com. For comparison, you can buy a very decent (though not Purcari!) bottle in any mid-range Chişinău eatery for £6-£7 and for far less in supermarkets.

Pinot Grigio did not sound a promising start but although it was as colourless as any other Pinot Grigio it shone in a way most do not. It also had a strong fruity/spicy nose where most smell of nothing. Italian Pinot Grigio is harvested early to increase acidity and often over-cropped to keep it cheap - that is why it tastes of nothing. This was fresh and clean on the palate with autumnal notes of apple and pear – if only all Pinot Grigio was like this.[In Moldova 120 Lei (£5.45), in UK £11.95]

Purcari wines
Left to right, Pinot Grigio, Rosé, Rosu and Ice Wine

Rosé de Purcari is a blend of Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot and the local Rară Neagră. A pale salmon pink with a wild strawberry nose, it has good acidity (more than the Pinot Grigio) but is disappointing on the palate as it offers little beyond crispness until the Cabernet kicks in at the end. [In Moldove 120 Lei (£5.45), in UK £11.95

Roşu de Purcari is made using the classic Bordeaux Cabernet Sauvignon/Merlot/Malbec blend. The 2014 vintage still looks young and purple, the nose is an immense blast of fruit very much in the Bordeaux style. This is a rich, premium wine with abundant plummy fruit, solid tannins and an excellent balance. If I had been told this came from the Haut-Médoc I would have believed it. Maybe they should be pushing their own style not aping somebody else’s, but they do it so well I forgive them. [Only available in Moldova 295 Lei (£13.40 and it would be £25 if it really was Haut-Médoc.)]

I'm taking this seriously, Tasting at Purcari Winery

Ice Wine. A pale gold, viscous (almost oily) blend of Muscat Ottonel and Traminer, with an aroma of lychees, honey and roses. The spicy Traminer (which I like) tempers the flowery Muscat (not so keen) and the intensely sweet, luscious whole is greater than the sum of its parts. [Only available in Moldova 380 Lei (£17.30) for ½ bottle].

Lunch at the Chateau Purcari

A good tasting is a perfect prelude to a good lunch and the winery had arranged a three-course meal showcasing traditional Moldovan cuisine.

We started with Plăcintă, a usually circular flaky pastry case with various fillings. A favourite in Romania and Ukraine as well as Moldova, it can be sweet or savoury, but for a starter we had cabbage and dill in one, and soft cheese in the other. The pastry was excellent, if a little filling, I liked the cheesy one but shredded cabbage would not be my first (or second) choice of filling.

Placinta, Purcari Winery

Ciorbă. Romanians and Moldovans draw a distinction between supă (soup)and ciorbă (sour soup). We were served a clear chicken noodle soup with carrots, coriander and onions; the chicken well-flavoured and the noodles made in the winery’s kitchen. What made it ciorbă was an interesting and distinctive sourness derived, traditionally, from borş (wheat or barley bran fermented in water), though lemon and sauerkraut juice are also used.

Ciorba, Purcari Winery

Our main course was Mămăligă and pork. We had already noticed that Moldovan low intensity farming produces meat and vegetables packed with flavour and our pork, stewed to tenderness, was top quality. Once a millet-based polenta, Mămăligă is now always made from maize. Maize was brought to Europe from Mexico in 1530, reached Romania around 1700 and quickly replaced millet in the staple diet of the peasantry. Mămăligă remains popular and is perhaps the single defining dish of Romanian/Moldovan cuisine. It has a pleasant texture (Lynne was unconvinced) but is bland until mixed with the grated, salty brânză (a ewe’s milk cheese) it is always served with. Once mixed it is easy to enjoy.

Pork and mamaliga with grated branza, Purcari Winery

We drank a half bottle of Rară Neagră, Moldova's native grape on its own. Less purple than the earlier Cabernet based Rosu, the nose is thinner with less fruit. It starts with plenty of flavour, a touch of sweet dried fruits and vanilla, but lacks tannin and falls away so quickly I could not detect the promised ‘fine oak aftertaste’. Purcari sell it locally for 180 lei (£8.20), Romanian-wine.com sell it in the UK for £13.75 (whole bottle prices).

There was no desert – we were stuffed anyway – but we had been royally entertained and thoroughly enjoyed the best of Moldovan wine (we had started right at the top) and typical Moldovan food, and now it was time to leave.

As we left a young waitress scurried after us bearing another half bottle of Rară Neagră. Unfortunately, her English matched our Romanian and it was unclear whether she wanted us to pay for the bottle we had drunk (we had assumed it was ‘complimentary’) or give us this one as a gift. She ran off to find someone with better linguistic skills. It was a ‘gift’ (though we undoubtedly paid for everything we ate and drank at some point) and gratefully received. We cracked it the next day before going out to dinner.

Rara Neagra de Purcari in our hotel room, Chisinau

Purcari Village

Leaving the winery we headed into Purcari village, pausing to admire a family of storks in their nest.

Family of Storks, Purcari

We have a west European preconception of a village, a string of cottages, a cluster of shops, a church and pub/café/restaurant, but the 2,500 people of Purcari live in well-separated houses, most with a patch of land, set well back from the straight village roads, and if there are any businesses we did not see them. They do, though, have a war memorial.

Purcari War Memorial

Second World War memorials are abundant throughout Russia and the former Soviet Union. They lost 8 million soldiers and 15 million civilians in the conflict, so it is hardly surprising.

Puracari War Memorial

Purcari to Chişinău

With no time to stop on the outward journey, our return to Chişinău was punctuated by photo stops. The first was at the bus stop on the main road past Ştefan Vodă. The Soviet Union chose strange things to decorate, some of Moscow’s metro stations resemble temples, there is a huge semi-circular mural on a specially erected wall on the Jvari Pass through the Caucasus in Georgia which is far less beautiful than the mountains it obscures, and here there are bus stops. Like the Georgian mural, this painting has seen better days.

Stefan Voda bus stop

The main themes on the bus stop are storks and sunflowers. I have already shown you the real storks, so here are the real sunflowers.

Sunflowers near Stefan Voda

Anyone who wanders through the British countryside must occasionally encounter a farm where one paddock, usually tucked behind a dilapidated barn, has become a graveyard for unwanted farm machinery, a broken-down quad bike, an old Ferguson tractor and the skeleton of a horse drawn harvester last used by great-grandpa in the 1930s. In Moldova they turn these things into memorials. I have no idea what this antique tractor is doing on a plinth, but there it is.

Antique tractor on a plinth, somewhere near Causeni

Near Căuşeni we looked at an abandoned collective farm…

Abandoned collective farm, near Causeni

…and at Grigorievca a few kilometres north of Căuşeni we stopped at the church and cemetery. A large padlocked iron gate prevented us getting any closer, but the painting of St George killing a dragon over the doorway suggest who it might be dedicated to. From extensive googling I can tell you that Grigorievca has 1,200 residents, Ukrainians are the largest ethnic group and that the yellow paint job is fairly recent. That apart…..

Grigorievca Church

Evening in Chişinău

We reached Chişinău in the early evening. Later, deciding that we did not need a meal but a snack might be nice we repaired to one of the pubs across the pedestrianised road from our hotel where we shared what the menu described as ‘fried anchovies’ but I would call ‘whitebait’.

Fried anchovies in Chisinau

It had been an excellent day and I shall finish by noting that while Purcari is justly famous for its wine, Chişinău is proud of its brewery.

Chisinau beer

Moldova (and Transnistria)
Part 1:Chişinău, a Modest Capital
Part 2: Purcari, Fine Moldovan Wine
Part 3: Orheiul Vechi and Cricova Winery
Part 4: Transnistria, a Day Out in a Non-existent Country