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.

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Sunday Dinner at Marigold Kitchen

Dogs walked, it was time to get back to food. BYOB restaurants being a bit of a rarity in New York, we decided to take Anne to one of our favorites in Philly, Marigold Kitchen (501 S. 45th at Larchwood). Not that we were necessarily looking for cheap eats, but the Sunday $35 three-course prix fixe dinner is one of the best deals in town. Besides that, I think Chef Michael Solomonov and the rest of the staff at Marigold are turning out one of the soundest BYO dining experiences in the area at the moment.

Our waitress, who greeted us at the door and showed us to our table, remembered my wife Lori and me from our last visit. She wasted no time in popping the cork on our first bottle of the evening so that we’d have something to sip while enjoying the amuse bouche and perusing the menu. The 1999 Ratzenberger Bacharacher Kloster Furstental Riesling Brut Sekt tasted good as always. Ratzenberger’s Rieslings, bubbly included, seem to age effortlessly and this was no exception; still young, bright, bone dry and elegant, it was a fine starting point. Our collective curiosity was piqued when our waitress stopped back a short while later to inquire as to whether any of us had any dietary limitations. A few moments after our resounding “No,” Chef Michael showed up table-side bearing a platter of foie gras “pastrami” sandwiches, little – actually, medium sized – squares of house made rye filled with, you guessed it, foie gras and topped with cornichon slices. Some heart-stoppingly addictive snack food….

As tempting as the five course tasting dinner ($60) sounded, we’d all by then, through no fault of the rich little sandwiches, decided to go with the $35 three course dinners. This is a Sunday only special which allows one choice each from the first course, second course and dessert portions of the menu. To start, Anne chose the “Carrot Soup with Miti-Crema and Mint,” Lori chose the “Salmon Rillette with Warm Flatbread” and I opted for “Seared Chicken Livers with Bacon and Pear.” While waiting for our firsts to arrive, we opened wine two of the evening, 2004 François Chidaine Montlouis-sur-Loire “Les Bournais.” The Chenin Blancs of Chidaine have been on my short list of favorite central Loire wines since I first encountered them in the 1999 vintage. “Les Bournais” is a new cuvée, 2004 representing the first vintage in bottle from this single vineyard site. Though a bit closed at first, it already displayed typical aromas of dried honey and a feel of wet stones on the palate. With air, it continued to open and improve over the course of our entire meal. It worked well, speaking for the group, with all of our appetizers. Certainly, it paired nicely with the perfectly cooked chicken livers which were pan crispy thanks to, I’m guessing, a light dredging before searing. The accents of smoky, salty bacon and slightly sweet, crisp pear in the dish only helped the marriage. As good as this wine is today, I’d strongly recommend holding it for at least a couple of years to give it time to integrate and develop.

As I’d brought two nice red wine options along for the ride, we all leaned toward meat when making our entrée choices. Both women went with the duck, prepared with parsnip purée; the official description eludes me as I neglected to bring home the night’s menu. For me, “Lamb Three Ways” was in order. And while either of the reds we’d brought may have been apropos, I really wanted to take a look at the 1999 Fattoria di Palazzo Vecchio Vino Nobile di Montepulciano, as the estate’s Sangiovese based wines are a perennial favorite of mine with lamb. The “three ways” consisted of a glazed lamb loin chop, a lamb “cigar” (lamb sausage in a pastry wrapper), and lamb stew on a bed of Israeli couscous. All three preparations were solid on their own – I could enjoy a plate of the cigars for breakfast – but came together to form a more perfect whole. As for the wine, well, I wish we’d had more time to spend with it as it only became prettier, more aromatic and silkier as time passed. I was surprised at its youthfulness, though perhaps I shouldn’t have been as 1999 was a terrific year for Palazzo Vecchio and for Tuscany in general.

After a brief rest, revisiting the Montlouis seemed only right given the assortment of cheeses which followed our main courses. The night was capped by a selection of desserts all around, including a light, satisfying, tangy trio of “Lemon Tart with Lemon Curd and Lemon Meringue Sorbet.” This Sunday venture could be habit forming.

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