4 posts tagged “wine”

Last night was marked by two events which, to me, seem quite appropriate when juxtaposed.

One was a party with Megan, her sister, S, and some others. We had great wine (Haut Bion '83), champagne, and a good time in general.

The other was when I was called at 12:40AM by the hotel's night auditor who was wondering why I wasn't on the schedule anymore. Today I learned I was terminated without rhyme or reason. I have a sneaking suspicion this was brought on by my interviews with the people at Hilton who, undoubtedly, called the hotel yesterday afternoon. Given the owner's rather unstable personality, it wouldn't surprise me if this was why.

Not that it's important, I had decided to quit anyway after a very unpleasant incident involving the owner's instability that happened earlier this week.

Still, it puts life in great perspective for me. One instant I am enjoying the company of old friends, great wines, and all is well. The next I am without a source of income and wondering just what they will tell the people at Hilton (or what they have already) since I really want that job, and can't fathom a tactful approach to get more info on this situation.

And now I ponder something D mentioned last night. If one needed the money, why not sell a bottle or two. I'm not in that situation yet, but I have to wonder about it. Would I sell an '82 Mouton? Or a '90 La Tache? Especially after having  the splendid Haut Brion that can only begin to portend the bliss that awaits in those greater bottles?

I don't know.

There's a lot I don't know at the moment. Plans swirling in my mind. Do I contact Hilton? (I've already sent thank you cards--is more contact showing too much eagerness?). Do I take some time off, hit up the dole and decide to take the novel I've been working on since 2001 and finally force myself to finish it? Do I abandon all and travel for a bit? That wayward, ambiguous travel defined by little money and total self-reliance?

I don't know.

Oddly, I'm not discontent. Last night was wonderfully enjoyable. I have that residual happiness coursing in my veins, and as for work and money, they've never meant much to me. I've done without the latter before, and can again. But now I'm unattached. That gives me a certain temptation to go off.

I'm not sure what I'll do, but I do know I'm okay. That's what matters.

Such is life.

Clos Vougeot Grand Cru Chateau de la Tour 2000, Burgundy

Burgundy, in its best years, produces both red and white wines that are best described as pure, refined, gastronomic bliss. If these wines were women, they'd be Ingrid Bergman in red satin.

2000, however was a very iffy year for Burgundy in general, with the Cotes d'Or fairing a bit better than the Cotes de Nuites. Clos Vougeot is in the Cotes d'Or, with Chateau de la Tour being one of its most famous and visible vineyards in a land where most plots are marked by nothing more than an etched stone along the road (such a stone demarks DRC from the rest of Burgundy and I remember, the first time I saw it, I was disappointed. Surly such a leap in quality and price would require a 10' hight stone wall with vigil guards manning machine guns, guarding the precious grapes from villainous tourists like myself who couldn't beat the urge to take a direct taste off the vine). It is a real Chateau in the medieval sense, monolithic and glorious, much as its wines.

This wine is sharp, and brooding in the nose. It assaults your nostrils with a truffle-like earthen sent, akin to putting soil left baking in a summer sun, and then uinleashes flourishes of deep and rich cherry-fruits, further evolving with traces of leather on the nose, as well as a slight hint of fresh apple. This is classic Burgundy. Not a wine for hedonistic decadence. More an intellectual wine, one that makes you wonder about its terroir and the flavors that unfold with each sip. And the color is visceral, like blood pulled up from the earth itself and fed into the grapes. Such a red! Deep, rich, vegring on plum, and nearly opaque, like a brooding sky in the distance.

I love this wine. It isn't as decadent as most Bordeaux, but it has sophistication. This is a wine for conversation and contemplation. A intellectual tour de force--French elegance at its height. I give it 93 pts for color, palate, finish, and nose. I only find it lacking in that it would have been more pleasant were the acidity a touch higher to match the structure of the tannins.

I paid around $60 for this back in 2003. Not sure what its commanding now that it's opened up and is drinking well, but if you can find it and you long to understand why Burgundy has the reputation it does, buy it and give it a try.

I also recommend opening the bottle about two hours before consumption to soften the tannins.

1998 Trilogie du Chateau Saint Georges, St. Emilion

Okay, back down to more affordable and less rare wines.

I've had several vintages of Trilogie, though was never totally impressed in the way a good St. Emilion usually does--that is until I had this 1998. It has a very full body, with brooding tannins and equal acidity. This bottle screams 'aging' at the top of its lungs, yet even now, at just 8 years old, it has a delightful palate of cassis and currant, with traces of cedar and tobacco on the nose. This wine is a nigh perfect example of a classic claret. Dry, full, powerful. No, it isn't in league with an Ausone, or Cheval Blanc, but I highly recommend it to anyone looking for a glimpse of what those stratospherically priced behemoths of wine are like.

And this wine will evolve as you drink it, both in the glass and in the bottle, so each pour will be different, slightly more complex, as layers of flavor begin to further unravel.

This is the prestige cuvee of the Chateau, with around a thousand cases produced annually.

It is priced between $30-45 a bottle, depending on where you live. Locals can find it at The Best Cellar on Wilton Dr.

Henriques & Henriques Malmsey 1900 Madeira

Ah, Madeira. They used it to toast the Declaration of Independence, to celebrate victory at Saratoga and Yorktown--yes, Madeira is the true patriot of wines.

And it is perhaps the longest lived. The process by which Madeira is and was made would make sludge out of Chateau Latour. These wines go through heat, turbulence, oxidation, and then some. The end result? A nearly indestructibly tawny elixir that makes a lush like me absolutely giddy.

Of course, I'll NEVER get another bottle of this 1900 Malmsey from Henriques and Henriques, but that it is Madeira means I can savor a glass at a time without worrying over whether it'll lose flavor or not in my old ship's decanter--it won't (and so I don't feel guilty about savoring a single glass alone).

Now...what to write about a wine that is more well traveled than me? (This lovely wine spent a few years as ballast in casks on a circumnavigation or two). I really can't put it into words. Coffee. Toffee. Caramel. Toasted almonds. Creme Brulee. They're all there, bursting forth in total smooth, deliciousness. Really, I can't think of more. Fantastic ancient Madeiras always leave me speechless.

I really can't tell you where you can pick up a bottle of this without taking a trip to Madeira and visiting Henriques and Henriques yourself, and lord knows what they'll charge you for a bottle (though they do offer it now and then by the glass). I acquired this little gem as a gift. But if you can get ahold of some, by all means, do it. Don't hestitate. Sell a kidney. This wine is priceless.

Weingut Giefing's Ruster Ausbruch 1999 Neusiedlersee-Hugelland, Austria

When it comes to the dedicate sweetness of a good dessert wine, most people have heard of Bordeaux's Sauternes and its most famous producer, Chateau D'Yquem, yet the fantastic dessert wines of Eastern Europe often go over looked. I don't know whether it is because of the sheer unpronounciability of the names by those unschooled in German, or the 'backward' stigma that follows most things from Eastern Europe, but I would argue this Ruster Ausbruch is on par with many of the best Sauternes.

Like a good Sauternes, it takes fungus to make this lovely wine: botrytis cinerea, or noble rot. This fungus afflicts the grapes, sapping out the water from the fruit while leaving solids, especially fruit minerals, sugars, and acids. It generally occurs when a wetter season is followed immediately by dryer weather, conditions which serve to minimize the locations most sweet dessert wines can be made. This wine comes from the banks of Lake Neusiedl, where the climate is extremely favorable for botrytis to occur. Further, in making Ruster Ausbruch, producers hand select only grapes affected by botrytis for the final wine, something only Chateau D'Yquem does consistently in Sauternes.

From Weingut Giffing, this Ruster Ausbruch is simply exquisite. The scent of it is like spring, and that first fresh rain on a field of honeysuckles. And the taste! It is both sweet, but tempered with a relatively high acidity that serves to bring out delicious, rich fruits: ripe pear, a hint of fiji apples, honeydew, and wildflower honey, with slight traces of chestnut and oak. And it evolves in the glass! Give it twenty minutes and it will reveal further layers--kiwi and strawberry come out, with toasted almonds.

This wine is dessert in and of itself, though a good rochefort or stilton cheese would go well with it--most say foie gras, but even my hedonistic taste buds think that is taking the richness a bit too far. I'd recommend serving it alone. This wine stands alone perfectly well.

However, acquiring it may be more difficult than finding a virgin in a brothel. In good years, when the botrytis spreads well, expect about 400 cases of this made. In bad years, expect 400 liters (about 110 cases).

I found this gem through my eccentric wine pimp, Richard, at The Best Cellar, off Wilton Dr. I don't know how he gets it (this question was the subject of conversation with Rich, the hotel's wine-distributor, today) but he does and that's good enough for me. He has a couple bottles left. Seriously--run. I'm buying what he has left on Sunday.

It's about $40 for a 375ml bottle.

La Demoiselle de Champagne Grand Cuvee Brut Rose - Vranken

Ah, champagne, deliciously bubbly drink of victory and celebration throughout the world. And what better occasion for a left-winger like myself to pop a bottle than this evening, when it looks as if both houses of the present congressional idiocy have fallen. Ah, qui, Vive la Victoire!

I did what any good Frenchman would do to celebrated--pulled out a bottle of champagne from the cellar, strapped on my sabre, and sabered the cork for a grand spectacle of steel glistening in the light and a quick, furious stream of liquid bliss blasting forth after the swift decapitation.

And what liquid! Vranken is a relative new-comer to the Champagne world, but they do make some fine bubbly. This Rose is superb--a very pale pink, with golden hints, and extremely fine bubbles that pleasantly tickle the tongue. It has hints of strawberry and peach, with traces of honeydew and a perfect edge of dryness that simply begs you for another sip.

I definately recommend this. Wine Spectator gives it an 89, but I feel it deserves closer to a 93. It is a light champagne, the perfect champagne for celebrating any occasion (must there even be an occasion for Champagne?).
Those of you who have never tried a good Rose Champagne, this is the one to start with, and once you do try it, you'll be hooked. Unfortunately Rose Champagne is produced in extremely limited quantites by almost every champagne house, so finding it may be a bit difficult.

It retails starting at $40 a bottle, but don't expect it to stay at that price point as Vranken's rising star will certainly command more in the future.

Pollice Verso: Joseph Drouhin Beaujolais Noveau 2006

What shit. I wouldn't drink this if someone paid me.

There was a time when I looked forward to the Beaujolais Noveau, that taste of a fresh, young, quaffing wine good on a sunny day. The quintessential cafe wine. But lately, over the past two years, it has been nothing but crap.

There is oodles of acidity, but the fruit is completely lacking. It tastes akin to a shriveled grape dipped in sulfric acid (not that I've ever tried it, but if I did, I'm sure it would taste similar to this Beaujolais). And the tannins are laughable, at best. This wine bring nothing to the table. I'd rather drink MD 20/20.

Thumbs down, big time. 
 

Any store that sells wine--good wine--is a meance to my bank account. I have a love-hate relationship with my favorite shops. They all stock hard to find, excellent wines. The Best Cellar, owned by the eccentric Richard Stetler, manages to import some of the most obscure and fascinating wines from around the world, and Richard is always willing to pour a glass of his newest acquisitions. I cannot help but fall into the trap. A blissful rioja, 300 cases produced annually, and I'll walk out with at least one case.

Or today, when I ventured to the local ABC. They know me all too well. I go in to browse, to replace one of the sommelier glasses I managed to break while washing it, and inevitably the manager nudges me towards the fine wine cellar, talking about the new stock of Silver Oak to tempt me. Of course, the path to Silver Oak leads me past the 1st Great Growths. I walk out with a Haut-Brion '83 and a Cheval Blanc '89.

And then there is the Naked Grape, where Brian knows my tastes all too well, and will always slip me a glass of the new great Barolo he's just stocked, and I can't help but to buy a bottle or 6.

I can resist any purchase in any store except for wine. It is the Achilles Heel of my bank account. But then, what does it matter? Money will never taste quite like bliss.

I normally post wine recommendations for my friends on the dark pit of internet hell that is myspace, but I thought why not post them here once in awhile. So once or twice a month I've decided to collect my notes from myspace and put them here for anyone interested.

Chateau Pichon-Longueville Comtesse de Lalande Paulliac 2ieme Grand Cru Classe 1999

Yes, I know, the name of this wine is a mouthful. In fact, if you're not fluent in French, don't even bother uttering it. Just say Pichon-Lalande and any wine enthusiast will know you're talking about the grande dame of Paulliac.

Pichon-Lalande is known as a super-second, forever relegated to ride the coat tails of Chateau Latour, Mouton-Rothschild, andChateau Lafite, yet in its best years (most noteably 1982) it can surpass all the first growths in style, finesse, and decadence. Pichon-Lalande is also my favorite Bordeaux. While it may not always be on par with its firth growth cousins, it also never disappoints, and at a third the price of Mouton, it's hard not to like.

So about the 1999. This isn't a great Pichon-Lalande, but it is drinking remarkably well at seven years. The nose hits you immediately with this wine, fragrant and fine, like smelling a cigarbox stuffed with morello cherries. This is definately a more masculine Lalande than usual, more like a Pichon-Baron (another superlative super-second), but with velvety smooth tannins. It is a little dry towards the finish, but that is easily forgiven given its incredible smoothness ripeness.

The color is wonderful, a deep, deep red, like staring into a glass of rubies glazed over in blood.

I give it an 8.7/10. Perfect for drinking while waiting for the great years to mature.

Several thousand cases produced.

Again, this wine calls for big glass. Riedel's Sommelier line, particularly.

I'd love to recommend local shops where it can be had, but this was the last bottle I could dig up at the local shops. Still, it can be had between $75.00 and $100+ at various online retailers.

Pollice Verso: E. Guigal Cotes du Rhone Rose 2004

It is hard to be disappointed by a French Rose, but by god, I was disappointed tonight and did something I rarely do: had a glass and poured it down the sink (I've done this with a Chateau Pavie, as well-- Robert Parker and his flock be damned).

And this wine does belong in the sewer. It's got acidity, but no fruit--a horrible finish that leaves you wondering if you just drank a glass of liquid plumber. It almost makes me feel ashamed of my French hertitage--almost (then I think of a Latour '28, and all is well again).

So yes, caveat emptor.

WillaKenzie 2003 Terres Basses Pinot Noir - Oregon

So, tonight I felt like opening a bottle, but was decidedly torn. I felt like something full-bodied, but also delicate. There was the '99 Pichon Lalande, the '96 Pichon-Baron, a '00 Clos Vougeot Grand Cru, and a bottle of '97 Grands Echezeaux in contention. The thought of opening any of these (especially the Grands Echezeaux) alone was tempting, but against my view that the best wines out there are always for good company.

So I dug through my cellar and found this charming Oregon Pinot Noir. First off, it definately needs decanting (yeah, drinking it this young definately qualifies as infanticide, at least without decanting). The power of this wine struck my nostrils like the deliciously pungent aroma of a freshly shaven truffle. Secondly, this wine is definately in the style of a Grand Cru Burgundy (Thought not a Grands Echezeaux, or any DRC--seriously, what other wine measures up to the DRCs?). It has structure, subtlely, and a deliciously long finish that leaves you savoring every sip for some time after its been gulped down.

It is a deep ruby, almost garnet, in color and has strong flavors of red and black cherry, plum, and cassis, with light hints of tropical fruit, rounding out this wine amazingly well. The acidity is crisp, matching the sweet fruit flavors. This is a big wine, worthy of roasted meat dishes, even roast game and fowl (for those that don't like the pure force of an Italian Barolo, anyway).

Around 450 cases produced.

This wine calls for Riedel glass. Don't waste your money quaffing it from small glasses.

It can be had from The Naked Grape Wine Co. on Wilton Dr, or most merchants who use National Distributors. Retails around $50 if you're lucky.

Seghesio Sonoma Zinfandel 2003

It has long been a hobby of mine to blast California wines, mostly because I KNOW top French wines eat top California wines for breakfast and then some (And for anyone who protests this, show me one California wine that is as decadent, long-lived, and all-around perfect as a 45 or 82 Mouton? Yeah, that's right, you can't).. It's also because I tend to consider myself more French than American, and as much as I dislike nationalism, I just can't help it (I swear, the French have a gene for condescending nationalism).

That said, this is a lovely wine for it's price range ($20ish). And well, if you want good Zinfandel, you have to go Sonoma. It have intense fruit flavors of blackberry (perhaps a touch of apple, too, on the finish), muted with hints of briarwood and exotic, pepper spices. This would be a perfect accompaniment for indian dishes and thai foods.

I give this wine the vote as my favorite Zin for both it's price point and taste. Yeah, 111 years of experience with Zin at Seghesio definately shows in this wine. Go. Have some now. Thank me later.

Hahn Monterey Chardonnay 2003

I was debating whether to open a bottle of wine tonight, being a bit tired, but decided on it anyway.

This Hahn Chardonnay has been sitting in my cellar for about a year now. I had nearly forgotten it existed until I stumbled upon it tucked away behind a bottle of Chablis I was contemplating (I'm way too tired to enjoy a Grand Cru Chablis...mmm...Domaine Laroche goodness).

It being a California Chardonnary, I was weary. Californian winemakers far too often resort to so much oak their wines could build another ark. Needless to say, at my first sniff I was pleasantly surprised. Tropical fruits, a hint of pear, and butterscotch waifed up from the glass and fufilled their promise at my first sip. It's a light to medium wine, crisp with acidity. This wine could easily pass for one of the better Chablis, or a light Puligny-Montrachet.

It has energy, good taste, and sharp with dryness and acidity. It would go perfect with fish dishes with butter sauces and poultry in any kind of cream sauce, but personally, I think it stands best alone.

This is a wine I'd take to the beach, and at about $11-$13 the bottle, it's hard to beat this homage to old-world Burgundy whites from the New World

For you locals, this wine can be bought at The Best Cellar, on Wilton Drive, across the street from Galanga.

30,000 cases produced.

Chateau Ampelia 2002 Cotes de Castillions.

For those of you who enjoy reds this wine is fresh and fruity, with hints of plum and blackberry, as well as traces of fig, cherry, a little oak, and the faintest hints of chocolate and tobacco as it develops in the glass.

It drinks well young, being a Cru Bourgeois is can be drank young, or cellared for a few more years to smoothen it out a bit more (though at four years old, it is by no means tannic, or harsh).

As for food pairings, it would go well with light meat dishes and pan blackened, or seared fish dishes (even though it's a blend of cab, merlot, and cab franc, it's a little on the light side for a Bordeaux), though I personally recommend it on its own, or with some strawberries and a chocolate fondue if you want to be especially hedonistic.

It sells from between $15 and $20 depending on where you are, and who you buy from. Around 1200 cases produced.

For you locals, WineStyles at 1267 University Dr. in Coral Springs has it at a very reasonable price.