BIG FINISH

1. 2002 Deidesheimer Grainhübel Riesling Spatlese Trocken, Dr. Deinhard...I had actually opened this up the night before, and we drank it as an aperitif, waiting for the troops to assemble. It had improved overnight, having been fairly hard and reticent, but now was showing quite well, exhibiting a nice mineral/slate element, and good weight.
2. 2003 Blanc, Jezebel (Oregon)...by now we had tucked into some pretty good bbq from Zeke's in Montrose, maybe the best of the white guy 'cue places in the area (this was supplied by the very generous Mr. Riddles), and some stellar salmon from our own Mr. Dunn. The wine, a nondescript assembly of not too interesting white grapes, lacks any real interest, is plump but spineless, and possesses only two virtues: it's cheap, and nobody was offended.
3. 2003 Muscat, Heidi Schroeck (Austria)...still chowing down. Immeasurably better, both with the 'cue and in the abstract, pale, bone dry, real food wine made by someone who gives a shit. More, please...
4. 2003 Pinot Noir, Jezebel (Oregon)...on to the reds, whilst finishing up dinner and moving on to Dave C's lovely cookies. Another wine from the same so-so bargain Oregon producer, this one a bit better than the white, as at least it's just the one varietal, so you have some idea of what they're going for. Undistinguished, but, amazingly, nobody spit it out.
5. 1983 Nuits St-Georges, Clos de la Maréchale, Faiveley...Seems like I heard someone playing in C# out of the corner of my ear, and it seemed to be quite good, so it was obvious I needed to abandon my ill-conceived plan to stick with New World plonk, and check the old closet. What have we here? Looks like a bottle of completely mature Burgundy from a good maker, in pretty much perfect condition: red-orange mature, medium weight, forward pinot fruit, an almost sweet mid-palate, and a lingering finish. Great wine. The colleagues were kind enough not to grouse about it being an '83 rather than the sublime '85.

RED WINE TRIFECTA

1. 2000 Clos Blanc, Tablas Creek—I don’t actually taste this wine, as I’m still cutting up garlic for the meal, and feel it would be bad form to cut off a finger with guests present, to say nothing of slowing my piping down even further, if that were possible; I’ve liked it in the past though, for what that’s worth, and the various guests seem to have no trouble with it, especially our period instrument friends. It’s possible that a fondness for high-alcohol wines is characteristic of people who play these instruments, unlike the paragons of sobriety attracted to, say, the uilleann pipes. Just a thought.
2. 1999 Condrieu, “Les Grandes Chaillées,” Vignoble du Monteillet—probably should have been drunk some time ago, but still pretty, in a fading beauty kind of way: pale gold color, tropical fruit salad nose, plenty of acidity, sweetish mid-palate, medium finish, nice with the goat cheese doused with pumpkin seed oil. A winner.
3. 2002 Grüner Veltliner Smaragd, “Achleiten,” Prager—normally a great wine, this one seems to have gone underground for the time being: unforthcoming, angular, a shadow of itself. Not off exactly, but not all there either. This bottle disappears as quickly as the first two, though, which I take it is attributable to the good manners of those present, and to the fact that two of our number are actually Irish, hence unlikely to let anything alcoholic get away…
4. 2003 Rosé, Tablas Creek—another wine from this good Central Coast maker, and, yikes, look at the size of this thing: 14.8% alcohol, or at least that’s what they’re admitting to! Not exactly your sit-out-on-the-deck-under-the-umbrella summer quaffer. On the other hand, it turns out to be fairly light on its feet, all things considered, like the hippopotamus ballerinas dancing to Ponchielli in Fantasia, and is fun to drink. Screwcap, by the way, ever so hip.
   
   And so to table, and the reds:
   
   
5. 2002 Tempranillo, Parador Cellars—the first of a trio of Tempranillo-based wines, intended to go with the main course of Arista (a kind of Tuscan pork roast), rapini, and potatoes. Very nice Napa juice, young of course, but drinking well: deeply colored, cedar-spicy on the nose, nicely balanced, pretty long, amazing for domestic Tempranillo. Boy, the people who make this wine are really geniuses, right down to the limited partners. Yes indeed. You should go out and buy all of this wine you can afford. Might be time to look into taking out a second on your house. Yes indeed.
6. 1985 Pesquera, Alejandro Fernandez—OK, at this point three things happen: about ten seconds into the meal, we run out of potatoes, a natural byproduct of inviting actual Irish people to dinner. Then the stylishly late Eric and Erica (I’m not kidding about the names) arrive, and sit down to a potato- and white wine-free meal. The third occurrence is that we slide into the area of genuinely great wine: deeply colored, just red-orange around the edges, soft and sweetish in the middle, a finish so long it feels like it’s bought a condo in your mouth. Just fine with the pork, and with my third of a potato.
7. 1982 5o Año Valbuena, Vega Sicilia—Amazingly, this is just as good, but in a more focused, acidic, food-oriented way. Paler than the Pesquera, and more orange than red, dried cherries on the nose, edging into the area of Barolo, just as long as the previous wine (let’s see, where did I leave the stopwatch?), it’s apparently bought the condo next door to the Pesquera. I could drink this all night.
8. 1989 Châteauneuf du Pape, Vielles Vignes, Domaine du Marcoux—a bit arbitrary, shifting gears and popping open a Rhône wine at this stage, but this turns out to be a doozy, and the third leg of a rare vinous hat trick, three in a row in this league. Pointy wine critics love this wine, and for once they’re actually right about something: a velvety beauty with an explosive nose, a sense that it’s much younger than it actually is, and that further cellaring would reveal greater wonders yet. Check back with me after the 2010 Tiónol, and I’ll let you know how that works out with the remaining bottles. Anyhow, it winds up being a dead heat among these three wines for best in show.
9. 1984 Hermitage, J-L. Chave—by now we’ve moved on to Mr. Collins’ (the official pâtissier of the N.F.C.S.C.U.P.C.) lovely cookies, and people have begun to strap in to the pipes. At this point, Ms. Kyme and Mr. Martin—no flies on either of them—head for the hills (the Woodland Hills, in fact), sensing perhaps that the wines won’t get any better, and that pleasant conversation is about to give way to something, well, wholly different. Meanwhile, back at the wine: what’s up with this thing? Funky, slightly dirty aromas, kind of an animal quality—wait a minute, it’s the dog. C’mon Nora, get out of here, I’m trying to concentrate. Back to the wine: oops, it isn’t the dog. This is actually pretty bad, not corked or particularly off, just an unpleasant dumpy wine from a maker with a big-time reputation. Maybe 1984 sucked; if I had any wine books, I’d look it up.
   
   Hmm, seems Mr. D’Arcy has launched into a set of jigs. Apparently he’s forgotten basic piping/wine etiquette: white wines with jigs, reds with reels, rosés with hornpipes. I think we can allow the gaffe, though, as he’s been under the weather.
   
   
10. 1982 Barolo, “Dardi,” G. Mascarello—a great year in the Piedmont, so this should be a beauty, but just misses: it’s old-style Barolo, a good thing, but somehow the pruney, soy sauce quality these wines often exhibit has taken over to an alarming degree, completely overpowering the rose/red fruit thing they need for balance. It’s wine that takes a stand, without a doubt, and that’s great, but not what I hoped for.
11. 1988 Cabernet Sauvignon, “Martha’s Vineyard,” Heitz Cellars—what’s this sitting on the counter, and me with way too much wine in me to exercise the slightest restraint? Ah well, let’s take a flyer; the evening is wrapping up, judging from the increasingly slurred speech, and everybody’s inability to remember how to finger back D, and we can’t have the previous two duds be the last wines we drink. In the event, it works out just fine: lovely stuff evidently in its prime, the nose is all cedar and blackberries, there’s a muscular youthful quality, mouth-filling, fairly straightforward, but fun to drink, pretty much all you could ask of California Cab.

CARB NIGHT

1. 2003 Verdicchio di Matelica "Pagliano", Enzo Mecella--as the forces assemble, I pop the corks of a couple of inexpensive Verdicchios I mistakenly assume will be nothing more than inoffensive quaffers which will provide a bit of lubrication and little else. As it happens, these are both winners, with bracing acidity and a story to tell. This is the lighter of the two, and if memory serves, the cheaper, but can easily hold its own with any of the heavyweights to come, in the same way a Dachshund has no idea it's no match for a Great Dane.
2. 1999 Verdicchio di Matelica "Antico di Casa Fosca", Enzo Mecella--This is the deeper of the two, sporting a goldish hue, a certain viscosity, and a whiff of oak on the nose, but it's not clear to me that it's better wine; I find myself missing the crispness of its little brother. Very nice in any case, and is just the ticket with the various bruschette that are kicking off the evening's carbo-loading.
3. 2004 Vigna Fontanella, Mustilli--Really classy label, which is probably why I bought it in the first place, but there seems to be very little going on inside the bottle: it's vague and diffuse, and I wouldn't be able to identify the varietal blind if my life depended on it, or even the country of origin. Great label, though, and this bottle winds up being consumed as well; gotta love those pipers...
4. 2002 Bourgueil "Les Galichets", Breton--We're on to the reds at this point, and drifting tableward. This is definitely classy juice, youngish Cab Franc with a cut-through-the-carbs front end and a lingering, pleasantly bitter finish. It provides nice compensation for burning myself whilst draining the pasta.
5. 1999 Savigny-les-Beaune "Clos des Guettes", A-F Gros--Another nice label, although this time with something in the bottle to back it up. Minor Burgundy, to be sure, but no shame in that, fun to drink in that ripe-plum-and-Bing-cherry way. Not exactly the ticket with pasta, though, as the sauce hits it with a left to the stomach, and a right to the jaw as it's going down. It's a pretty tough crowd, though, and in spite of hitting the canvas, this one's guzzled straight down as well.
6. 1985 Barbaresco, Ceretto--Very pretty indeed, and more than a match for the Puttanesca. All the classic Nebbiolo elements, this baby smells like two dozen long-stem red roses that have wandered into a saddle factory, not that that's exactly an everyday occurrence. Pretty clearly the wine of the evening, this is dramatic stuff that grabs the attention and hangs on.
7. 1978 Barolo, Pio Cesare--This seems like a good idea: another Nebbiolo from a great year, made by one of the good guys, and an older one at that. In the event, however, this turns out to be awfully aggressive, edgy, borderline unpleasant. Seems to have decided somewhere along the line that it wasn't settling for the slippers and the comfy chair in its dotage, but was going for the nasty Lionel-Barrymore-in-It's-a-Wonderful-Life thing instead. A loser.
8. 1983 Gevrey-Chambertin "Les Cazetiers", Faiveley--We've moved along to Mr. Collins' brownies by now, so can actual piping be far behind? We can't let the previous bottle have the last word, though, so I find myself rooting around in the closet for something plausible, this time unearthing a pretty nice middle-of-the-road Burgundy from a reliable negotiant. A gentle, soft-spoken sort of wine, sweetish, mellow--just the thing for the odd sip between jigs and reels.

Column Lite

1. 2003 Grillo, Curatolo—“What the hell is grillo?” I ask myself as I pop the cork. Turns out it’s a Sicilian grape which plays a part in the making of Marsala; who knew? In this instance, it’s vinified dry, and is just the thing with the various tapas on the counter: a bit of baby fat, probably having to do with the very hot vintage, but crisp enough, with a whiff of almond on the nose, and a fairly long, fairly exotic finish.
2. 2002 Terrasola, Jean Leon—this Catalán beauty is mostly Muscat, with some of a local grape called Parellada in the blend as well. I’ll go for almost anything involving Muscat—I’m pretty sure I’d give high marks to a wine involving Muscat and sea water, if there were such a thing—but I think this is just sensational in the abstract: crisp as brand-new money, perfumy beyond belief, and with the uncanny ability to make the fattiest appetizer taste, well, healthy. We’re two for two, but I’m trying not to think about that, in the same way nobody mentions a no-hitter while it’s going on.
3. 2004 Rosé, Old Vines Cuvée, Navarro Vineyards—it’s that rosé time of year, and this little number, from one of California’s very best makers (not quite as good as Parador maybe—you are getting sleepy, very, very sleepy…when you awaken, you will buy all the Parador you can afford…) does not disappoint: beautiful translucent red/orange, an explosive, spicy nose with a pleasant raspberry note, very full-bodied indeed, a real food wine, like a Tavel. Interestingly, at 13.5% alcohol, this turns out to be the largest wine of the evening, and has no trouble standing up to the spice-encrusted pork tenderloin: so much for the wimpy rosé thing.
4. 2000 Nuits-Saint-Georges, “Les Saint-Georges,” V. Sauvestre—on to a bit of Burgundy, in this case something from a pretty good mid-level producer. This is fairly nice food wine as well, with plenty of Pinot character, and nice balancing acidity. It turns out to be the weakest wine of the evening, but in fact nothing to sneeze at, and it’s traveling in pretty fast company. We’re four for four at this point, and our man is taking the no-hitter into the ninth.
5. 1998 Coteaux du Languedoc, Château de Lascaux—a gem from near the Lascaux caves in Southwest France, and the label in fact sports a cave painting involving some indeterminate beast being hunted by our forbears. Too bad they didn’t have anything like this wine to drink with whatever they managed to bring down—this thing is densely structured, deeply colored, and seems to be designed to go with charred woolly mammoth flesh. Sure doesn’t have any trouble with the last of the pork…

Good Intentions

Giving It Up For Lent

1. 2004 Antithesis, Tablas Creek. This is a Chardonnay from a pretty good Central Coast producer, apparently given this name because their usual offerings are made from Rhône varietals—think Roussanne or Marsanne. Anyhow, this is better than I would have expected, with a fairly enticing nose, a weighty mid-palate, and a reasonably lengthy, spicy finish. A bit too alcoholic for what it is, but a good start, all things considered.

2. Bollinger Special Cuvée, NV Brut. The entry level Bolly, but nothing to sneeze at: fruit-oriented for this house, as opposed to the yeasty, biscuity quality found further up the product line, medium weight, persistent mousse. Pleasant enough in itself, and always nice to pour some bubbly for distinguished guests.

3. 1998 Pinot Noir, Méthode Ancienne, Navarro (California). A lovely little wine from this fine Anderson Valley maker, and one that has made previous appearances at Column meetings. Slightly pale, somewhat shy on the nose, maybe a shade tight at first. With a bit of air, loosens up just enough, exhibiting a nice herbaceous quality, good acidity, more stuffing than you’d think, and plenty of length. Shoulda bought more…

4. 2002 Pinot Noir, Porter’s (Marlborough, NZ). Here’s a real bruiser of a wine, dark and dense, not very forthcoming—looks an awful lot more like Cab, or maybe Syrah, than Pinot. The nose tells us it’s Pinot, though, with a kind of vegetative undergrowth element, not really unpleasant, just slightly funky. Seems to be big-time wine in a way, just not made in the lean, racy style normally associated with Marlborough Pinots, and it turns out to be the least successful wine of the evening—there’s actually a bit left when everybody leaves, which either tells us it’s not as good as we’d hoped, or that Dave Riddles isn’t here.

5. 1995 Nuits-St.-Georges “Les Boudots,” Jean Tardy. This is an extremely pleasant premier cru from a name maker, an exuberant, youthful effort made in a light, accessible style: slightly pale, especially after the Porter’s, possessing bracing acidity, obvious food-friendliness, and considerable length for what it is. Seems to go well with either pasta or chocolate chip cookies, not something you could say about just any wine.

6. 1995 Clos de Vougeot, J.M. Millot. Easily the wine of the evening, this gorgeous grand cru has the goods, in spades: a full, vigourous color, a complex, evolved nose, an opulent mid-palate, and a lingering finish. It manages to be both lush and light on its feet, which is arguably the point with Burgundy. I’m hoping I’ve squirreled away a bit of this stuff, as it looks to have a bright future, and the pipers are likely to get ugly if this is the last they see of it.

A Family Affair

1. 2004 Grüner Veltliner, “Hinternberg,” Famille Bauer—a sprightly Veltliner from an unfamiliar maker, inexpensive, but not drinking that way; a nice, spicy way to kick off the evening’s imbibing, and just the thing with a bit of prosciutto and cheese.

2. 2002 Pouilly Fumé, “Les Sables,” J-P Mollet—perfectly pleasant Sauvignon Blanc from this reliable Loire maker, but not as vivid as I might have liked, a soft-focus wine with faint grapefruit overtones. Just as well that we’re not really having it with food. Not bad, really, just lacking grip.

3. 1999 Parador, Parador Cellars—now here’s a wine you really, really need to own quite a lot of, and I can assure you that my modest financial stake in the company has nothing whatever to do with that thought. No, indeed. Just looking after the best interests of my readers. Yep, that’s the ticket. For the record, this is a fat, plummy, big-boned wine, easily able to hold its own with what’s on the plate; the contents of the bottle disappear in record time, although this is possibly because the collective Column feels letting it linger might be impolite—a sensitive group if ever there was one.

4. 2002 Côtes de Tablas, Tablas Creek—this is a nice Rhône-style blend from a good Central Coast maker, whose wines often appear at Column meetings, hence in these scribblings. It’s nearly as large in scale as the Parador, but a bit crisper, and certainly more tannic; it is, of course, a completely different animal, as the former comprises a Cabernet/Tempranillo blend, and the C de T is of the Syrah/Grenache/Mourvèdre persuasion. Anyhow, it wears its high alcohol fairly lightly, and turns out to be fun to drink.

5. 1979 Chôteau du Tertre—this looks like it might be over the hill: the fill isn’t too good, and the cork comes away in shreds. Amazingly, the wine inside, after decanting it off the very considerable sediment, has plenty left. There’s an orange hue, that old-Bordeaux sweetness and the complete absence of unresolved tannins, but there’s also plenty of backbone, at least at first. The wine unravels a bit as we drink it, but we don’t give it a chance to really come apart, sucking it down fairly quickly.

Praise the Lard

1. 2006 Terrazze Retiche di Sondrio, “Torre della Sirena,” Conti Sertoli Salis—what on earth is this, you may be wondering, with all those words on the label? Turns out to be pretty simple—a Northern Italian white wine made from two local red grapes, the pignola and rossola, fermented off the skins. And very pretty it is: a fairly unassuming, medium-bodied wine, with a savory mineral element that goes just fine with the couple of cheeses on offer, and with some lovely spiced pecans my better half has been kind enough to provide.

Piper who attended the Column meeting.

Piper who couldn't make it.

2. 2007 Godello, “Valdeorras,” Casal Novo—oh my, what a gorgeous thing this is, a honey-blond beauty with just enough voluptuous weight (think: the thirty-something Julie Christie), impeccable focus, and length to spare. Godello continues to impress as a severely underrated—and unaccountably inexpensive—Spanish varietal whose day will surely come. This is lovely with the remaining appetizers, but I find myself just drinking it by itself, temporarily abandoning my cooking duties, drifting off, trying to give it the attention it deserves...

3. 2005 Marzemino, Husar de Tarczal—the opera lovers among the readership (surely the overwhelming majority) will recall that Marzemino is the wine on the table at Don Giovanni’s last supper. This occasion is otherwise dissimilar: we’re eating beef, not pheasant, and, to the best of my recollection, none of our company is seized by demoniac spirits and dragged into the pit of hell—mind, I’ve had the odd glass by this point, but I’m pretty sure I would remember that. In the event, the wine is light of body, on the plummy side, pleasant on its own terms, but perhaps not up to the weight of the meal it gamely tries to accompany. I hope that the bottle Mozart, or his librettist, supplied to Don Giovanni just before he headed south had a bit more to it; or perhaps this was all he really deserved.

4. 1999 Rioja, “Viña Bosconia,” Lopez de Heredia—one of the more interesting traditional Rioja makers, this guy doesn’t release his wine until he feels it’s arguably ready to drink; thus, this vintage only became available last year. And ready it is, to say nothing of willing and able: not the most deeply colored Rioja, this one nevertheless brings a bit of weight and food-friendly acidity to the table, along with a spicy, sandalwood note. It has no trouble at all with the rather heavy—not to say greasy—meal, cutting straight through. A middleweight winner.

5. 1996 Bourriquot, Napa, Michael Havens—it’s unusual at these events to leave the last word to a California wine, as they rarely really have much to say. But this is no ordinary California wine, and no ordinary maker: for some years Michael Havens made this lovely blend, a winning combination of Merlot and Cabernet Franc, the same combination—in the same proportion I think—as Cheval Blanc, the great St-Émilion. You wouldn’t mistake this wine for its model, as it doesn’t taste remotely French, but there’s no missing the seriousness of purpose. At thirteen years of age, this beauty has a lustrous deep color, great viscosity, and the kind of complex sweetness that can be gotten from Merlot on those rare occasions the maker bothers to take it seriously. Just about as good as the second wine, and that’s going some.