One for Porterhouse, More for Fun

I got together with a couple of the UDPs recently, just to celebrate the kickoff of the long, Labor Day weekend. Sharing the haul of fresh produce Bill had landed at Reading Terminal Market earlier in the day was simply icing on the cake.

Mittelrhein Bacharacher Kloster Fürstental Riesling Sekt Brut, Ratzenberger 1998
$20 on release. 13% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.
The occasion seemed to call for an aperitif – something fizzy, perhaps. After pouring Ratzenberger’s 2003 Sekt in the context of my sparkling wine seminar last week, I thought it would be cool to check in on a bottle with a little age under its belt. There’s some lovely stuff starting to develop here, yet it’s still drinking incredibly young. Just the slightest whiff of white truffles. Pale, the color of slightly green straw. The mousse looked large in the glass but felt fine and tiny on the tongue. The wine’s creamy texture was followed by a very persistent, acid driven finish. Very stony and finely detailed. It seemed to correspond in weight and texture to a Spätlese halbtrocken, one lifted afloat on a bubbling brook. The palate delivered flavors of apricot skin and lemon oil, plus loads of mineral extract. With air it became even creamier than at first, taking on a faintly dairy aspect that reminded me, somehow, of Délice de Bourgogne. I’m having a hard time describing it any better than that. But I’d love to try the pairing sometime.

Nahe Monzinger Frühlingsplätzchen Riesling Kabinett trocken, Emrich-Schönleber 2004
$21 on release. 12% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Petit Pois.
Schönleber’s lighter trocken wines – the basic QmP and Kabinett level bottlings – often take longer to show their goods than their richer counterparts. Three years after release, this is still painfully young, just not as searingly so as when it first hit the market. It’s just starting to broaden out enough to show the breed that’s inherent to all of Werner and Frank’s wines. A lovely, red-spiced mineral character, with fruit tones that ranged from grapefruit to peaches, finished off on a dark, serious note, just shy of stern. Pretty damn tempting now but, if you have any of this, I’d recommend continuing to hold for at least another couple of years. (NB: As of the 2007 vintage, Schönleber has come completely in line with the VdP program and no longer produces wines labeled as Kabinett trocken.)

Toscana IGT "Cepparello," Isole e Olena 2000
$51 on release. 13.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Petit Pois.
When Bill told me he’d picked up a couple of dry-aged porterhouse steaks from Harry Ochs, I immediately thought of something Tuscan for accompaniment. Even if he wasn’t giving them the full-on “Bistecca alla Fiorentina” touch, there’s something about good Sangiovese that marries just beautifully with porterhouse.

Cepparello is one of the few wines I ever collected. Yes, collected. I put an end to the habit a few years ago as its price started to creep ever higher and as my tastes evolved. But I still have a nice little vertical going in the cellar, from 1997 up through 2002. What better time to check in on a bottle? I picked the 2000 because of the softer, less structured characteristics typical of the vintage. It turned out to be a solid choice, as this bottle was in a very good place. Showing some maturity, it had developed a slightly port-like nose, further perfumed with aromas of dried cherries, cinnamon bark and animal hide. As expected, both its tannins and acids have softened up more quickly than in a more classic vintage. While I expect this should remain solid for at least another five years, there’s no reason not to start enjoying it now. Oh yeah, it was pretty kickin’ with the steaks.

Savennières "Trie Spéciale," Domaine des Baumard 2003
$30. 13% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Ex Cellars, Solvang, CA.
We seem to have gotten into the habit at these get-togethers of following dinner with something Loire, something Chenin. Come to think of it, we did have a little cheese course…. I had always assumed that Baumard’s “Trie Spéciale” was exactly what its name implies: a cross-section of the estate’s best fruit, selected on multiple passes (tries) through the vineyards. A quick look at their website, though, suggests that it’s actually a single vineyard wine, produced from a plot situated between “Clos du Papillon” and “Roche aux Moines.” Those technicalities aside, this surprised me given the vintage. I would have expected either a little RS or at least a full degree higher alcohol. But no, this was dry – not bone dry, but certainly dry – and even a touch on the delicate side. It gave off a big whiff of boiled wool and quince right up front, while the palate delivered white peach, gooseberries and a lightly honeyed touch. An intensely fruit-driven example of Savennières, and quite yummy.

Porto Late Bottled Vintage, Quinta de Santa Eufêmia 1997
$20. 19.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: MHW, Manhasset, NY.
A year and a half into this blog and this is the first time I’ve ever written up a Port? It’s kind of hard to believe, I know, as I actually do like Port. Then again, I hardly ever drink the stuff anymore – especially not in August – so it kind of makes sense. However, given that Bill Jr. whipped up a mean batch of chocolate chip cookie sundaes – made with what we’ve come to call “Crack Cookies,” the addictive goodies from Famous 4th Street Cookie Company in the Reading Terminal Market – it seemed to make perfect sense. Weather be damned. Now, on to the wine.

My notes were nonexistent on this one so I’ll just provide some basic impressions. An LBV from a small, very traditional house located in the Cima Corgo. Bottled without filtration, this is holding up very well. Indeed, there are some late bottled Ports out there that can stand up to cellaring, at least in the mid-term. I remember this being quite decadent yet really well balanced upon release. It’s now shed what few rough edges it had four or five years ago and has reached a very mellow state. Christmas plum pudding and rich black cherry notes dominate. The finish is soft and reasonably long, the alcohol entirely integrated. Not a bad finish to the evening.

Intro only...

Wines at Salento

Yep, that’s wines at Salento, not wines from Salento.

When eating at home most nights, casually that is, I always try to select a wine that will match well with the meal but don’t usually quibble over the cultural origins of the dish vis-à-vis the denomination of the wine. When going out to eat at a spot with a specific culinary focus, French or Italian for example, I tend to be a stickler for selecting wines from the same country, even right down to a specific region, to match. When dining at Philadelphia restaurant Salento recently, the choice should have been easy – wines from Salento itself, the heel of the Italian boot. In hindsight, wines from Tuscany and Le Marche down, especially reds from Salento and reds and whites from Campania, would have been perfectly suitable given Salento’s culinary scope.

The problem was, there was nary a thing from the southern extremes of Italy to be found in my cellar and I wasn’t up for a wine shopping excursion as prelude to a casual meal out. Red wasn’t too big an issue as there were a decent number of Tuscan bottles from which to choose. White options, on the other hand, were rather more limited. By that understatement, I mean two, just two measly vini bianci from which to pick. As one was a 500ml bottle of Josko Gravner’s Ribolla Gialla, which I wasn’t about to jostle around town, the decision was made.

Langhe Chardonnay, Ettore Germano 2005
From the opposite corner of Italy relative to Salento, this would normally have been an odd choice for pairing with southern Italian food. No matter, it worked. Sergio Germano could be considered a modernist for growing Chardonnay, not to mention Riesling, in the Langhe and for barrique aging some of his whites and reds. For his Langhe Chardonnay, however, he all but eschews wood – only about 5-10% of the wine sees any barrel time – in favor of a fresh, crisp, food-friendly style. When first released, it can be soft and fruity. With just a little bottle age though, it becomes more Burgundian. His 2005 – the current release is 2006 – smelled funky and wound-up when first opened. I was thrown off as it reminded me more of the tangy green character of a Chablis from Laurent Tribut than the usual Langhe Chardonnay. With a bit of air and warmth, it retained its Chablis-like crispness and raciness but rounded out into an easier drinking wine that paired pretty easily with my garlic-inflected bowl of linguine ai frutti di mare. $16. 13% alcohol. Natural cork. Imported by Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.

Indicazione Geografica Tipica Toscana “Fianesco,” Fattoria di Fiano 1999
Given that I was culling from Tuscany, a traditional style of Chianti could have made for a nice partner to my secondo of pork loin, potatoes, pancetta and Brussels sprouts. As the IGT designation suggests though, traditional this was not. A sample bottle received years ago, this had been chilling in the cellar ever since. As I knew little about its specific origins, a bit of research was in order. Fattoria di Fiano is located in the southern portion of the Chianti Colli Fiorentini zone, just north of Classico. According to the notes on Fiano’s website, Fianesco is not entirely untraditional in its blend: 80% Sangiovese rounded out with varying amounts of Colorino, Canaiolo, Merlot and perhaps some Syrah and Cabernet Sauvignon. Its darkness of color, especially for a wine approaching ten years of age (when Sangiovese should be showing some elegant fade), suggested far more than 20% of the non-native varieties. The wine was overtly modern, with big, bold fruit, polished tannins and fairly voluptuous vanillin oak notes. To its credit, it was reasonably balanced, had enough fruit brightness to stand up to the wood and showed slight traces of Tuscany’s expected dusty, spicy tannins. As hinted at above, it was over-matched to my dish and to all but the most red meat intensive of Salento’s dishes. 13.5% alcohol. Natural cork. Sample bottle: price and importer unknown.

Intro only...

Accidental Adventures in Cellaring

I was already thinking of writing this when I came across Alfonso Cevola’s post on the foibles and fleeting romanticism of inadvertently keeping wine past its time. Thus inspired, I simply must. My wine concerned was not as upsetting to me as Alfonso’s may have been to him. It doesn’t involve a wine nearly as old or something of which I had only a single bottle or had never before tasted. In fact, I look at my experience as positive, even comforting. That last thought makes the following story a perfect tie in to this month's edition of Wine Blogging Wednesday, which focuses on comfort wines, hosted by Joel at Wine Life Today.


The wine in question was the 1997 Vino Nobile di Montepulciano from Fattoria di Palazzo Vecchio ($18 on release, 13.5% alcohol, natural cork, formerly imported by Petit Pois). After enjoying several bottles of Palazzo Vecchio’s beautiful 1996 back in 2000, I picked up a case of the 1997 when it was released in the fall of that year. I figured I’d give a few bottles away to friends around the holidays, drink a few bottles myself and sock the rest away in the cellar. Here’s my tasting note, culled from the archives, from December 21, 2000:

A wine of immaculate structure and finesse, with a perfect harmony between fruit, acid and tannin. The 97 Vino Nobile is still very much in its youth, exhibiting copious quantities of round yet dusty tannins. When first opened, earthiness and cigar box aromas are prevalent on the nose and the palate is actually quite closed. With time in the glass though, this wine blossoms into a true beauty -- full of dark plum and dried cherry flavors with a hint of licorice on the long finish. This is built for the long haul and will almost certainly improve with age. If drinking now, I would recommend decanting this wine at least 30 minutes before serving. Or take the time to savor its evolution in your glass.

I still remember the next-to-last bottle – though I didn’t write a formal note – served at a casual dinner with a few friends about two or three years ago. The Vino Nobile was then showing the full plumage of healthy maturity – a touch of bricking around the rim, a deposit of fine, silty sediment and lovely, mellowed texture.

My last bottle of the 1997 was drunk and considered just a few nights ago, popped open to accompany Sunday dinner and provide a little comfort at the end of a busy, tiring weekend. As soon as I poured I knew I may have pushed this one a bit too far, having half forgotten about it socked away in the back row of my double-deep storage unit. Its color had gone from brickish around the rim to garnet/brick through and through. Aromas were completely tertiary; the scent of red fruits having subsided into more subtly perfumed cherry wood and leather. On the palate, too, restrained spice and rosemary elements remained but the dark brambly fruit of the wine’s earlier years was no more.

Astoundingly, all this considered, the second half of the bottle held up pretty well into a second day. The aromatic character on day two made me think of Madeira; there was an oxidative note yet without the negative traits associated with oxidation. It was as if the wine had developed resistance to oxidation through the slightly oxidative nature of long, gentle cellaring. The wine’s tannins had become more narrow than when last tasted but were still very fine, reminding me of the feel and scent of teak.

As I write this, I realize the wine wasn’t dead; it hadn’t gone that far to the dark side. It wasn’t half bad. In fact, it was quite good or, at the very least, interesting – a solid example of a wine, metaphorically speaking, moved beyond maturity into its full octogenarian glory. I realize that one of the inevitable things about keeping a cellar, however modest, is that you’ll let the occasional bottle get away. I realize that sometimes, if you catch it just in time, it can be a good thing, a learning experience and a perfect impetus to reflect back on earlier impressions. I realize that such experiences serve to strengthen one’s knowledge for the future. And that's a comforting thought.

Intro only...