1986 Cos d'Estournel

On the occassion of Mary Ellen's birthday Marita decided to invite a few friends over for a celebratory cook-out. Since she had to work all day, I spent my afternoon in the kitchen preparing the menu. Mary Ellen is a strict vegetarian so I decided on portabellos, veggie burgers and hot dogs, green and white asparagus, and haloumi cheese, all on the grill. I picked up some prepared desserts from Whole Foods along with a square of Gratte Paille, a triple cream with a nice salty tang from France.

The food part was easy, but what about wine? Well, of course, rosé to start. My new go-to, Domaine du Dragon for that. But what wine to really showcase? What wine with which to celebrate an important birthday?

It so happens that Mary Ellen works in the upscale french dining establishment in town. A couple of weeks ago a gentleman and his lady friend arrived at the restaurant and sat at the bar "to have drinks and maybe an appetizer." Mary Ellen waited on them. The man proceeded to inquire about certain high dollar wines, including the 1986 Cos d'Estournel. Mary Ellen told him that she had not tasted it and could not give a recommendation, but invited, Brice, the wine buyer and chef to talk to the party. The couple settled on 2003 Lynch Bages, but then returned it because of a suspected TCA infection. Brice returned to the bar and tasted the wine and found no problem with it but took it back as all service oriented restaurant staff should. The man then proceeded to explain to the staff that he was a second degree Sommelier and knew its flavor profile and therefore could determine that a flaw existed, however minute. Hmmmm, what the hell is a second degree Sommelier? Since when is wine like karate with degrees of competence? And why did this supposedly knowledgeable man, who had already memorized the flavor profile of 2003 Lynch Bages previous to this evening ask so many probing questions about other high dollar wines on the list? A second degree sommelier would know quite a lot about a wine like the 1986 Cos d'Estournel would he not? At least know about the Chateau's track record in general and some useful vintage information?

The summer of 1986 was hot and dry in Bordeaux with almost drought like conditions going into harvest time. A bit of rain in September mitigated the drought and spurred the grapes to ripeness. A freak storm hit the city of Bordeaux and its immediate environs on September 23 and deluged the Graves and Right Bank appelations with 10 cm of rain. The Northern Médoc escaped virtually unscathed however, and communes such as Pauillac, St.-Julien, and St.-Estèphe produced rich, concentrated, hard, and tannic wines of extreme longevity. The question is: will these wines ever soften enough to allow enjoyable drinking?

Cos d'Estournel is a Second Growth in the commune of St.-Estèphe. It has achieved a reputation in the modern era of Bordeaux (post 1982) for consistently producing high quality wines known for their "fleshy, richly textured" character (Parker). My experience of this Chateau is limited to the 1997 vintage (green, vegetal, and not all that pleasant) and the 1986. I tasted the 1986 about a year ago when the chateau released library vintages to Kobrand and many of these hit the market. I squirreled away a bottle with the aim of opening it 10 years from now to see what would happen. Alas, impatience, coupled with Mary Ellen's experience with the "Second degree Sommelier," prompted an earlier uncorking.

Decanted 20 minutes before serving. The color: deep ruby with only hints of orange at the rim. I would have volunteered 1995 or 1996 as a guess in a blind tasting. The nose: very Bordeaux, very à point, and definitely showing signs of maturity. Boot leather and earth, licorice, red cherry and plums. The usual St.-Estèphe plum and mineral nose, and something else, something hard and lean. (Joy said it was like sex in a damp basement, I am assuming she meant it was sexy while also being a bit musty) On the palate: fresh from a lively acidity, a cool feeling on the attack with heat and astringency on the finish. Surpisingly lightweight. This wine is out of balance and a bit disjointed, the fruit masked by the alcohol and astringency. Not really ready, but then, is there enough fruit to cellar it much longer? Later: evolving, gaining richness, with an almost liqueur like quality. Notes of tobacco emerging with menthol and mushrooms. Taking on body. Sweet strawberry fruit in the background trying to make its way out of the glass. (At this point I wrote: "this wine has hope...") But only a short while later the fruit had faded and vegetal aromas took control. At the end of the night: the alcohol dominating with leafy, spearmint gum aromas and black olives on the palate.

Really quite perplexing. Not really an enjoyable drink now. Most likely won't be one in the future. But it does have time ahead of it. I say go for the long haul and see what happens.

Chateau Malmaison Vertical

I went over to Stacy's condo yesterday to take measurements of the spare room into which I am considering moving. She has offered me an extremely low rent and I am quite tempted to accept, though, at this point, there is no suitable wine storage space. This is the major factor influencing my decision making process. I am currently doing some research on closet to wine cellar conversion. If anyone has any useful info on the subject, please comment below.

As I was leaving, she mentioned diner with a mutual friend of ours, Paul, the wine buyer at a well-established upscale grocery store in town. Paul is pretty much a recluse when not at work so the prospect of a social outting with him piqued my interest. The few times we have had a restaurant meal together, bottles with names such as Yquem or Grande Dame usually make an appearance and I am loathe to be excluded from any kind festivities such as this. Stacy said she would pay for my dinner if I brought the wine...of course, I eagerly accepted.

She decided on the X-Lounge for our meal. One of the partners, François is a good friend of hers and one of my clients as well. Paul doesn't go out much and he had never been. It seemed like an appropriate choice.

We were to meet at 8pm for drinks at the newly-opened Italian wine bar, enoteca. This recently renovated space looks and feels great and the thoughtfully and nearly meticulously assembled wine list includes offerings from all over the Italian Peninsula. I arrived late due to decanting time at home. I had a hard time deciding which wines to bring. A few too fragile to decant at home, put back into the bottle and transport to the restaurant. Most too young. Some much too esoteric. I settled on a vertical of the Moulis outfit run by the Rothschilds (of the Mouton clan), Chateau Malmaison, from the 1998, 1999, and 2000 vintages.

The Rothschilds purchased Chateau Malmaison in 1973. The 24 hectares of abandoned vineyards were renovated between 1974 and 1978. The vines now average about 22 years of age (still young for Bordeaux) and the vineyard is planted to 80% Merlot and 20% Cabernet Sauvignon, according to Parker or 55% Merlot and 45% Cabernet according to the LFC Rothschild website. Whatever the proportion of the vines in the soil, the wine itself for all three vintages states a composition of 2/3 Merlot and 1/3 Cabernet Sauvignon. The wine matures in 10-30% new oak barrels with the remainder in one year old barrels for 12-15 months.

Before tasting the Malmaison however, I should mention that after aperitifs at enoteca, Stacy ordered the 2003 Kluge Estate Sparkling wine at X-Lounge. This a product she now sells for National and once sold as a Kluge rep. Kluge Estate Winery aspires to grandeur, with an impressive (depending on perspective) list of consultants, including Michel Rolland. The sparkling wines are probably their best products made in the traditional method. The 2003 seemed a bit over oaked though, and starting to oxidize ever so slightly. The mousse was fine and overall it is a good wine, but not worth the money.

To the Malmaison (bad house?):
1998: A bit musty on the nose with notes of damp earth, red berries, and cocao powder. Soft and well-aged on the palate with leather and a touch of alcohol.

1999: Also musty and much less expressive, with some vanilla extract and most probably infected with TCA. Corked?

2000: Again, a mustiness noted. Muted nose but similar to the 1998, with a bit more freshness. Oak on the palate and not much fruit. This wine was not showing well and developed a quite moldy smell as it sat in the glass. Not TCA I don't think, but definitely flawed.

I would go so far as to say, based on this tasting (and according to Paul who had to pull these wines from his shelf due to customer complaints) that there is some sanitation problem at Malmaison. All three of these wines, either minutely or quite obviously, were flawed. The 1998 least so and clearly the stand-out among the three: the most expressive, showing the most fruit, but nonetheless, tainted.

I would be quite interested in tasting a newer vintage to see what is happening with this Chateau. I am curious to know of other people's experiences with this wine. Please comment below...


We finished with a bottle of the 2006 Mitolo "The Jester" Cabernet Sauvignon from Australia. This wine is a bit unusual in that it is made Amarone style with 20% of the grapes dried before pressing. This wine is much too primary to really enjoy and critique fairly at this point. Lots of residual fermentation gas. Nice strawberry and raspberry fruit trying to show through. But I'll need to retaste to get an accurate assessment of the wine.

1990 de Suduiraut

I must confess to being a major wine whore. I'll go out of my way to taste nearly any wine, good, bad, insipid, interesting, disgusting, delicious. I am curious about every wine produced, from happy-mammals-playing-cards-on-the-label Shiraz to Chateau Lafite. But it is the truly special nectars of the vine that cause me to lose all sense of propriety and rush headlong through the tasting throng in order to get a sip of them, namely: Champagne and Sauternes...

I sat flipping through the pages of the wine list at L'Etoile while Scott directed his words at me from across the table. As I approached the end of the list I saw a sight that made me swoon, a madeleine like instigator down memory lane, and a tempting sight that forced me to focus my eyes with lecherous precision: 1990 de Suduiraut. Not only this, it was available by the glass for $20.

There I sat with the apple of my downfall temptingly sitting in front of me, begging to be picked, eaten, indulged in. Damn, I thought, pulling out the cash in my pocket. Twenty six dollars. I could skip lunch altogether and have a glass. Just then our server arrived and asked for our order. Soup and salad please. Nine dollars squandered. No de Suduiraut for me.

Regarding the madeleine comment: the last time I indulged in this wine it was at hole three of Swananoa golf course on the occasion of Josh Wood's 31st birthday (see the 1975 Bordeaux post for details of his 32nd). I bought a bottle (full .750ml) on sale for $50 from Sokolin and was saving it for the appropriate occasion. I remember it being fiery, very alcoholic and unapproachable for about three holes of golf. But by the sixth hole it had calmed down and started to show beautifully. Concentrated, rich, viscous, like fish oil. Stewed apricots and oriental five spice. Unctuously sweet. A delight. Josh made his paté, for which he is known. Lori made her croustades and salty black olive tapenade. Preserved fennel. And 1990 de Suduiraut while swinging at a little dimpled ball on the top of a mountain. Glorious.

These are the images that flashed through my brain as I sat, seemingly composed, reading through the l'Etoile wine list. Our lunches arrived during all this and I admit that the soup and salad were worth the nine dollars I was going to pay for them, though I managed to remain slightly disgruntled at having passed up the opportunity to try this wine again.

As our server (Eliza) took our plates away Scott requested the dessert menu. Well, at least I'll have a sweet note upon which to end the meal, I thought. The dessert menu included dessert wines as well, and there, staring out at me with sad little neglected eyes was the 1990 de Suduiraut for $20/glass. And then a brilliant idea overtook me and I knew I would be able to quash any remaining nostalgic urge to imbibe this wine: I inquired of the server, pointing to the desired wine, "how long has this been open?" Imagining that no one orders expensive dessert wines by the glass, I expected an answer like, "oh, two weeks ago." Thus I would be cured for I could not justify $20 for oxidized wine. She went to find out. She came back and explained that it had been open since Satruday night. Six days ago. Could it still be drinking well? She added that the manager says it stays fresh for about two weeks. "Yeah right," I thought. Scott must have noticed how desperately I wanted to try it for he asked if one pour could be divided between two glasses. "Yes." Eliza replied accomodatingly. "Damn!" I mean "Hurray!"

Kevin, the GM, brought us our wine. Telling us that it was drinking very well right now and that we had made a fine choice. The color was dark, foreboding, a deeper shade of amber-brown than the previous year. Was this a result of it being opened for nearly a week? On the nose it was lovely however, with candied apricot and notes of fig. Only slightly oxidative. the palate was luscious and inviting. Much better balance than the previous year. I could have sat there and drunk a whole half bottle by myself. Superb.

The bill, split into two: $26 dollars and change. I ended up using my credit card or poor Eliza would not have had a tip. So much for my money saving efforts...

2001 La Grave a Pomerol & Others

Marita and I were looking forward to a pleasant evening at home together only to discover that our cheese had spoiled and that we utterly lacked in ingredients out of which to forge dinner. Of course we ended up at a restaurant, the same one, in fact, as the night of the Cameron Clos Electrique shared with Tom (refer back to a previous post). We left it up to Scott to choose what we would eat while I popped open a bottle of Az. Agr. Ortella's "Le Creete" made from Trebbiano de Lugana. A very interesting wine that retails for about $10 and reminds me quite a lot of Sauvingon Blanc mixed with Pinot Grigio. Loads of grapefruit rushed out of the glass and assaulted my nostrils. Over the top grapefruit sometimes turns me off, and in this case I was a little apprehensive, but after some time in the glass it settled down and displayed notes of lime and thai peanut sauce. The palate revealed similar notes as the nose with a bit of vanilla extract. Good, vibrant acidity. A nice uncomplicated wine and a great summer quaffer. (Dishes eaten while enjoying this wine: zucchini soup and a butternut squash lasagna).

(Intermezzo of Arugula and Citrus salad).

I decanted the bottle of 2001 La Grave à Pomerol before we left the house as it did have some sediment. For some reason, I expected this wine to be nearing its plateau of drinkability. I found that I was sadly mistaken. Oak on the nose with a slight leafy component and sweet spice. The Cab Franc in evidence with vegetal undertones. Vanilla on the palate with some mocha and red cherry fruit (think chocolate covered cherries dipped in a latté, wrapped in wet leaves). To me this wine needs at least five more years to come together, if not more. It may be a little deficient in fruit to hold that long, but I have hopes that the Moueix firm knows what the are doing. A very soft palate with the tannins virtually all integrated. Later, evolving with raspberry and still a lot of vanilla. And the smell of a humidor: cedar and tobacco. Marita said it smelled of, "carrot cake." Low acid, which surprised me. A little hot on the nose, but balanced on the palate. (Drunk while eating a cheese plate)

I saved about a half a glass worth and tried it the following evening, but it failed to better itself. The vegetal notes only became more pronounced. If you have this in your cellar, hold for another 5-7 years, but I make no guarantees.

A little background: La Grave à Pomerol is owned by Christian Moueix, whose firm owns about half of all the chateaux in this appellation, it seems like sometimes. The vineyard covers 21.5 acres and is planted with 85% Merlot and 15% Cab Franc. The annual production is about 30,000 bottles. It is a medium priced Pomerol that one can usually find for $50-70.

The wine that probably edged out the Pomerol on this particular evening: a 2005 Roberto Strucchi "Coltibuono" Chianti Classico, poured from a half bottle. Very primary at the moment. A nose of rubber bike tire and rosemary or pine sap with a bit of sweet spice. On the palate it is very well integrated with a vibrant acidity and fine balance. A nice dried sour red fruit aspect. Light to medium bodied, one could almost mistake it for a white wine. Needs food, but incredibly refreshing nonetheless. Evolving, with notes of plums and candied wild strawberries, honey comb, sweet melted butter, and raw meat. Very interesting. Marita said it smelled like, "tarragon chicken with gravy and dinner rolls." Scott agreed. I guess I'm way out of my league with these two around.

2006 Domaine du Dragon Rose & 2006 Torbreck Woodcutter's Shiraz + Others

I stopped by Fuel Co. as I was finishing up my day yesterday, figuring that I could relax a little with Nick, the wine buyer there, before heading home.

I tasted Nick on a couple of vini, leading off with a Primitivo from Apulia by a winery called Vigne & (appropriately) Vini. This outfit does a couple different cuvées of Primitivo, but I had the "Papale" 2003 with me, a leftover bottle from a staff training at the soon to open all Italian wine bar on the downtown mall, enoteca (purposefully left in lower case). Papale means papal. and as I understand the story, Pope Benedict XIII favored the wines of his home region of Apulia, especially those from around Taranto. In honor of him this wine region is unofficially known as Papale.

The wine is distinctively old world, but has some attractive new world characteristics. It has a well defined black cherry and dried cranberry nose with a deep, ripe black raspberry component that is borderline jammy. It is well structured however, with a solid entry and mid palate of red fruits and a finish of cranberries. Great acidity and grippy tannins. This is a solid bottle of Primitivo for around $13.

I also showed him the single vineyard 2005 Merlot from Tommasi, a large family owned estate in the Valpolicella region of the Veneto. "Le Prunée" is the name of the parcel of vines and, from what I understand, this refers to the severe pruning practiced by the viticulturalist in order to concentrate flavor in the remaining bunches so as to make a richer, more complex wine. It is typical Merlot with big juicy red fruits on the nose and a distinctive Italian edge that always reminds me of licorice and tree bark. Something earthy. On the palate it is lush, full and incredibly juicy and friendly, like a labrador liking your face. A really nice wine, but a hard sell (Italian Merlot around $16 on the shelf).

Lastly, I tried him on the Tommasi Recioto della Valpolicella from the stellar 2003 vintage. Word on the street is that '03 was one of the few vintages that the Rondinella and Molinara grapes actually achieved full phenolic ripeness and the wines from this vintage (made by quality conscious producers) should be extraordinary. As is the Recioto from Tommasi. Weighing in at a mere 13% abv this luscious wine smells of candied black cherries, prunes, and raisins. It has a distinctive woody smell but in a way that is quite complementary. On the palate it sings with vibrant acidity, sweet, lush fruit, and some bitter tannin. Caramel, licorice, raisins, and prunes are all singing in accompaniment to the intriguing mouthfeel. Not super svelt, but very, very well done. At about $28 for a half bottle I still think it is a good value, as usually these wines sell for a lot more.

Nick had just received his allocation of the 2006 Torbreck Woodcutter's Shiraz from Barossa, Australia and wanted to taste it so we unscrewed that sucker and gave it a whirl. Very primary at the moment. And quite hard to go from old world to new so dramatically. Oak on the nose. Oak. Oak. More Oak. Think of a plank of toasted oak with raspberry jam spread on top. Now bite into it. Yum. Ugh. Sadly this is not a great combination in my book. Of course, it is fresh off the boat and bottling line so maybe this assessment is unfair. Give it some time and see if it pulls its totally unfocused self together. I should mention that there were secondary notes of leather sweet spice from the oak that were attractive. I tried to like it, but I ended up loving to hate it. Hopefully, I wil have the opportunity to retaste this monster. For those of you who like this sort of oak bomb ringed with fruit style of wine buy it before Parker gives it 93 points.

Nick remembered that he had some stellar primitivo on his store shelf so wanted to see how it was developing. He opened a bottle only to find it cooked. He opened a second and discovered it to be cooked and corked. I told him to save the rest and return it to the purveyor from which he purchased it.

Needing to recover from the onslought of unpleasant wine experiences, we finished the evening with the sumptuously elegant 2006 Domaine du Dragon Rosé courtesy of the D-man (Derek). He called after finishing his route and wanted to have a drink before heading to Richmond to pick up Brad McCarthy of Blenheim Winery fame. We shared a salmon special and drank this wonderful rosé, itself salmon colored with hints of a brighter setting sun colored orange . It smells of lime blossoms and white peaches, but doesn't advertise. This wine is all about subtlety and refinement. It is so elegant and beautiful I might nearly fall in love with it. The 2006 is a blend of 87% Grenache, 8% Syrah, and 5% Rolle. But this is not your typical Grenache based rosé usually so full and forward and often clumsy, no, this is super sexy and inviting. Red fruits, florality, and freshness on the nose. The palate is well textured with a vibrant acidity and similar fruit and floral notes as noted on the nose. For about $13 a bottle, this Provençal rosé is nearly unbeatable. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it Domaine Ott.

2004 Chasse Spleen Blanc

I've found it nearly impossible to gather any technical information on the 2004 Chateau Chasse-Spleen blanc. The Chateau Chasse-Spleen web site makes no mention of its white wine, only its grand and deuxieme vins. If it is similar to the 2003 then the breakdown is roughly 2/3 semillon and 1/3 sauvignon blanc. Where the vines are planted, vine density, age of vines, and yield are all unknown as of right now, though I assume that the grapes are grown on the same property as the red, in the commune of moulis (though physically it is closer to Arcins).

The wines of Chasse-Spleen are made by Claire Villars one of the handful of women winemakers in the Médoc. The quality of these wines is quite high, often described as being of third growth quality despite its position as Cru Bourgeois. This estate sits on close to two hundred acres with an output of almost 600,000 bottles per year, according to Parker.

We enjoyed the 2004 Chasse-Spleen blanc as a pre-prandial aperitif and during our meal as well. Homemade pasta with fresh herbs and a sauce of spring vegetables constituted the plat principal. The wine, being young, remained muted for the duration of the meal, though hints of its potential would occasionally shine through. Initially oaky, but not the kind of oak I find offensive or overwhelming. Quite delicate. The wine coated the glass with its oily viscosity. Rich and unctuous on the palate with lots of refined oak. Evolving with hints of citrus and pinneaple. Very round on the palate, with maybe not quite the acidity I would have hoped for considering that the other aspects of the wine lend themselves to long ageing. Time will tell. Vanilla and mango now with some wet slate and apricot emerging after assertive coaxing. Somewhat monolithic at present on the palate, but the nose indicates that the potential of this wine lies somewhere in the future. Great balance. Hold on to this one, though it makes for pleasurable drinking right now, I think we miss something by imbibing too soon.

If you have any information about this wine, please leave comments...

2006 Renzo Masi Rose & 2004 La Bouissiere Gigondas

The unnamed rosé of the previous post turned out to be the 2006 Renzo Masi Toscana. This wine retails for about $7 and is worth every penny. I highly reccomend it for its fruit driven, full style. It is balanced and insanely quaffable for drinking all summer long on those 100 degree days...

Last night Stacy called while I sat comfortably reading Dewey Markham Jr's 1855: A History of the Bordeaux Classification. If you are interested in Bordeaux this is a fascinating journey into the commercial history of the world's largest fine wine producing region and the controversial classification that arose as a result of years of unofficial but widely acknowledged hierarchy among the producers of the Médoc.

Stacy wanted to know if I would join her at The X-Lounge, her usual watering hole and an account we share in common. Stacy works for the Wal-Mart of wine distribution while I work for the Mom-and-Pop of wine distribution. She has to sell a bunch of crap most of the time, but she is a great salesperson and she does well. I, on the other hand, get to sell good wine most of the time, but am not driven by making the sale like most good salespeople and so I do alright. I always tell people that I love wine but could care less about sales (except when the rent, my car payment, and every other bill is due). As I can't seem to refuse any offer of a dionysian good time I promptly put away the book and drove over to the bar.

A spectacular thunderstorm raged and lightning flashed all around me as I drove , illuminating the sky and the dark clouds above. Were it not for the rain I probably might of stood outside enthralled for a while, but ran into the "X" instead and found not a sign of Stacy.

I asked the hostess in the crowded room if she had seen her. "Is that someone who works here?" She asked me. Though Stacy is a regular customer (nearly every night, sometimes infamously every night) the woman at the host stand didn't know her. I shuffled amateurishly to the bar with my phone in hand trying to reach her. No answer. Hmm. There I was, the awkward guy alone at the bar...I contemplated my game plan: have a drink and wait or take off and go back home? While I thought about it Stacy (thankfully) turned up.

What did I drink? A cocktail. I felt a little wined out to be honest with you.

While I sat sipping, one of C'ville's caricature personalities appeared across the bar. He had just been mentioned in our conversation not five minutes earlier. Strange night, I thought, while the ominous thunder bellowed at us from outside. I told Stacy to ask him to join us. He is the former owner of the best cheese shop in town, now defunct, replaced by a mediterranean themed restaurant. Also a great chef with a fantastic palate. Very french. Very grumpy (according to much of the clientele he ran out of his shop). My take is that he has a vision of food and wine which he refuses to compromise in order to make money. This vision remained unappreciated for the duration that he was open to the public. Sadly (though many would say, thankfully) he closed his doors at the end of summer last year.

He ordered a bottle of the 2004 Bouissiere Gigondas (which I sell) and shared it among us. Sweet notes of red fruits (raspberry) on the nose with a touch of garrigue and stones. On the palate it was full and lush with a nice ripeness. Long in the mouth. Quite good.

The 2004 is a blend of 62% Grenache and 38% Syrah. I have had a lot of luck with the wines from La Bouissiere. Their attention to detail and passion for quality really shows with their 2004s, which is, in my experience so far tasting Southern Rhone wines, a quite spotty vintage.

And can you believe it, Stacy declined the offer of another bottle. Thus our night ended, myself still quite sober.

2002 Cameron Clos Electrique Pinot Noir

Only 186 cases of this wine were produced from the Clos Electrique vineyard in the Red Hills of Dundee southwest of Portland. Located in Yamhill County, John Paul, a former Marine Biologist, founded this winery in 1984 (my birth year) and has established a reputation for making high quality Pinot Noir and Chardonnay in the Burgundian style. Natural, non-interventionist techniques are used in much of the winemaking process, from allowing natural yeasts to initiate fermentation to allowing the wine to take its sweet buttery time to complete malolactic.

The Clos Electrique Vineyard is farmed Organically with approximately two acres devoted to Pinot Noir. Yields are usually around 1.5 tons per acre (20.5 hl/hectare). In layperson's terms: hardly anything at all. Any of this wine you can get your hands on is precious and rare...

A friend of mine, Tom, called and asked if I wanted to grab dinner. Of course, I replied affirmatively, as I am a whore for hedonistic experiences. We discussed the possibility of several restaurants that are also accounts and settled on a favorite little Italian place of mine that shall remain unnamed for the sake of the employees who consumed copiously along with Tom and I last evening.

Because I know the people at this place I can usually get away with bringing my own bottle. I deliberated between a couple of (too young) Barolos from the well-regarded 1999 vintage before deciding on the Cameron. Let me mention that it was about 91 degrees yesterday and the idea of Barolo out on the patio just wasn't that appealing. Granted, of all the Pinots I could have chosen, I picked the masculine and rich Oregonian to bring to the party.

I arrived late, having just finished conducting a tasting for a new account interested in good value by the glass options for their soon-to-open gastropub. Tom was waiting for me outside with an oversized martini and had already dug himself into a hole by remarking to our waitress that her skirt was rather short (which it was) without explaining to her that he would be enjoying himself much more now with this added bonus rather than if she had been wearing, say, trousers. She thought it an insult and told me straightaway as I walked into the restaurant. "He's out back [on the patio]," she said. "What's wrong," I asked, perplexed by her attitude, which is usually friendly and warm. She relayed his comment to me at which I began to laugh and retorted, "Has he begun drinking without me?" To this she laughed also. (I am assuming all was forgiven?)

While Tom slurped down his triple decker Martini I enjoyed a Tuscan Rosé, the name of which escapes me at the moment, but was delightful and perfect with our very delicious caesar salads (with anchovies). I asked Scott, the manager, for an ice bucket for my contraband bottle and let it sit in there for a spell as the heat of the outdoors weighed upon us.

The pizza (the best in town, cooked on a charcoal grill) arrived and I yanked the cork out of the bottle and poured a taste for Scott in a reversal of the usual manager-customer relations. He approved of the wine, indeed, extolled the delectability of the nectar while I poured for Tom and I then topped him up. (I should mention that it was a slow night and therefore the staff could take the time to booze it up and merrymake with us).

Bold, dense, and dark from the glass. With game and earth along with ripe black cherries on the nose. On the palate it was full, rich, and assertive. This was no feint of heart Pinot. This was true hedonism with a pop of fruit that exploded onto the mid-palate exclaiming that Pinot is King, and that a truly great Pinot is generous and supple and DOES show its fruit. Definitely Masculine in the vein of a Cotes de Nuits, like Gevrey Chambertin or Nuits St Georges. My only reservation: a touch of alcohol on the finish that seemed a bit hot. Otherwise, a very wonderful wine, with time ahead of it, though drinking superbly now.

Our festivities must have caught the attention of the chef and sous chef for before long that had joined us and partook as well, as did our short-skirted waitress. A short while later the bottle contained not a drop more save for a bit of sediment, but neither did our pizza remain as we consumed it with gusto. Dessert arrived unbidden, but we received it warmly (I should say hotly, though the temperature did begin to decrease as the night encroached upon us). Scott turned on the outdoor lights and lit some candles for ambiance and opened a bottle of Moscato D'Asti to accompany the Tiramisu. This was also shared among the six of us (Tom, myself, the chef, sous-chef, short-skirted waitress and Scott). Moscato for me usually precedes and accompanies Sunday morning breakfast, though it served its purpose quite well on this steamy evening.

Eventually, we retired inside to the bar and snacked on some just-flown-in-from-Italy fresh Mozzarella and Gorgonzolla. Tom sipped (gulped) Glenmorange 12 year while I tried: first, an unwooded Chard from Australia that was decent enough and second, a glass of Barros Ten Year Tawny Port that was quite good with typical dried sour cherry and apricot aromas and notes of fig and walnut on the palate. A very, very persistent finish. Scott left the bottle of Scotch on the bar, to which Tom helped himself whenever his glass became empty (which it did with some regularity).

I summoned Scott for the check. He scoffed and let it be known that only a tip would be necessary, which he would share among the staff, the kitchen included. Tom dropped two Jacksons on the bar and we stumbled out into the night sated and full of fine feeling.

1997 Opus One Revisited

All day Monday I thought about the glass of Opus One tucked away in the fridge, wondering whether or not it would be even worse than the previous night or amazing. Marita had already pulled it out of the fridge when I returned home from work. It was sitting on the counter with a sheaf of plastic wrap over it rising up to temperature. I put my briefcase down, unpacked my wine bag, and changed into more comfortable clothes, then headed straight for the Opus. I carefully pulled away the covering and sniffed hard at the contents inside the glass. Lo and behold, holy of holies, miracle of miracles, I was smelling a fresh pint of blueberries with whipped cream and vanilla! What a drastic transformation from the tight lipped and taciturn wine of the previous evening. Generous, opulent, easy going, this is what good California wine is all about, I thought to myself.

Of course, Marita drank most of it as it was HER leftover glass from the night before. She sat grinning across the coffee-cum-dining room table while I drank a Rogue's Hazelnut Brown Nector, somewhat grudgingly, while she enjoyed the rest of the Mondavi/Rothschild-Mr.-Hyde-one-night-Dr.-Jekyll-the-next concoction.

For those of you sitting on some 1997 Opus, hold a while yet, or decant 12 hours before serving.

Up next: 2002 Cameron Clos Electrique Pinot Noir

1975 Bordeaux and Beyond Part 2

After the Pichon, and after Josh motioned to his empty glass indicating he was in need of more wine, I went down into the cellar and popped the cork on the 1975 Montrose. I have to admit to being a little nervous that this wine might not live up to the first. The corroded capsule, the scuffed and moisture damaged label, and the completely saturated cork did not portend auspicious drinking. However the fill level remained at base neck and the slight pop of the cork as I pulled it from its womb sustained my hope that this could be a quality bottle of vino. While decanting: not as generous or sweet as the Pichon, but from the color I would of guessed a wine from the mid nineties, not the mid seventies. Simply amazing medium ruby with only the tiniest hint of orange at the rim. Not a spec of brown. Not a spec! We are talking about a 32 year old wine that hadn't been well stored (if the cork was any indication) and the color seemed nearly perfect. I began to get excited as I sniffed at my glass. A lot more austere than the Pichon, more masculine, more brooding, deeper, with a gamey nose of beef blood and leather. A short while later, sweetening a little. On the palate the alcohol was present but not hot, with still some grip but pretty seamless..showing its class, its muscle, its time left in bottle. And wow, what a persitent finish with hints of cherry, vanilla, and dried red currants that appear out of nowhere and linger on the palate. A great follow up to the Pichon, a high quality bottle, and an excellent experience overall.

By the time we finished the second of the birth year bottles we were nearly through dinner (lots of grilled items, despite the rain), but not completely finished, so I uncorked a half bottle of 1997 Opus One and threw it into a decanter. What is it about California Cabernet and its ability to smell like unripe bananas? The nose was full of it, like a bad banan split with whipped cream on top. Cherries, vanilla, cream, and...bananas. I thought, this wine SUCKS. A very new world nose, with menthol coming through and a touch of violet, but again, mainly bananas (I don't particularly care for them) and a hint of mocha. Nicely textured though, supple, but muscular with some dried sour cherry and a little green pepper. My guess is that it needs time as it is so ungenerous with its fruit.

Moving on to dessert (a cherry clafoutis we picked up from Brix Terrace Café): A bottle of 1980 Mas Amiel Vintage Maury, made from 100% Grenache Noir. I have a particular affinity for this winery in the Languedoc-Roussillon, but I have to admit that this wine lacked a little in the mid-palate. However, this vintage comes from before the era of the seemingly quality conscious new proprietor who took over in 1999. It opened up nicley, showing the typical tawny flavors of walnut, getting better with some swirling (oddly, I thought, since it had matured in oak casks for 25 years before being bottled). Raisins, prunes, a hint of fig on the palate. This wine is all finish. A hallow mid palate leads to an explosion of flavors at the end: fig, caramel, walnut, hazelnut. Hmmm...a nice wine, a great way to end the evening, not mind blowingly good though, but the company more than made up for that.

Up next: The leftover glass of 1997 Opus One from Josh's B-day, plastic wrapped and secreted away in the fridge until the next evening's meal.

1975 Bordeaux and Beyond Part 1

On the occassion of Josh Wood's 32nd birthday we uncorked a handful of very interesting and tasty wines. Lori and Marita started with the Gruet Grand Rosé (which Lori brought back with her from New Mexico) while I went to pick up Josh at his apartment on 1st Street. Josh, of course, was sleeping when I got there and would neither open his door or answer his phone. My heart sank a little thinking that his grand birthday gala would be postponed yet again (not to mention that I wouldn't be able to crack open those two 1975 Bordeaux that I had been sitting on for a while now). I called repeatedly until the sound of ringing woke him and ten minutes later he came out of the door looking as fresh a chef can on his only day off.

We returned to the house and Marita promptly poured Josh his glass of Rosé (for we cannot let him be without a drink for too long) and I went back out to get more charcoal for the oysters that we were preparing to grill. I came back soaked as the remnants of some tropical storm dumped buckets upon us (why does this always happen when we want to grill oysters?) and promptly poured myself a glass of Rosé (I don't like to be without drink too long either).

Gruet Grand Rosé (I suspect a quite high dosage - it nearly taste like a kir royal, as though someone had added a little creme de cassis - a great party rosé) was followed by Gruet Blanc des Blancs Vintage 2002, which I have to admit was elegant, refined, and about as subtle as is possible for a new world sparkling wine. A nice apple component with an autolytic character showing through as well. Yum. Went great with the oysters that we grilled served with a Mignonette (with blue cheese cut into it) that acted as a granish (yes, of course we had Josh cook on his Bday)

The first of the Birth year bottles I uncorked was the 1975 Pichon Lalande Comtesse. While decanting it smelled sweet and promising despite the completely saturated cork. The bottle was in very good condition, the fill level at base neck, but the capsule was corroded and the cork totally, I mean totally saturated.

I poured immediately, concerned that this wine would be fragile, frail, and defenseless against the onslought of oxygen now encroaching upon it. The nose was bit muted at first and on the palate it was all Big Red cinnamon gum. The nose evolved however with menthol coming out of the woodwork as well as some of that spicy cinnamon and even a bit of licorice. The texture was smooth, nicely balanced with still some grip to it. Later, evolving still and expressing itself a lot more. The fruit began to emerge: a cherry liqueur like sweetness and a mineral component like wet stones; the palate was still cinnamon but with a little fig. A half an hour later it was in decline, getting musty with tobacco notes while he alcohol began showing imaking itself all too conspicuous.


Up next Montrose, Opus One, Mas Amiel.