Thursday, December 5, 2002

OK, mini-vert: There are a few California cabernets that over the years have been sufficiently accessible, very reasonably priced and still special enough that I made a point of buying a case or half-case every year since the early '90s. In the last few years, I've been forced to drop most of them, usually because the price is no longer quite so "reasonable" (Montelena, Viader, Silver Oak) or because they'll no longer ship to Pennsylvania and so I've been knocked off the mailing list (Togni).

Anderson's Conn Valley Vineyard is the last holdout, probably because the reviews have been little tepid over the past few years, although I'm not sure why. Todd Anderson's wines, at least to me, often aren't so attractive young, which seems to be the sine qua non of "quality" these days (i.e., will a restaurant be able to sell a lot of it at $150 a bottle within a year of its release?) In this case, perhaps not. At a tasting we did in the spring of 2001, the 1997 was already closing down.

I thought it would be interesting to check out those "lesser" vintages of the last decade (plus), so we opened an '89, a '93, a '96 and a '98. With the exception of the '98, which I suspect will also come around, they were surprisingly good. Most unexpectedly, the '89 was still vibrant, with a sassy red fruit zing that reminded me of a Sweet Tart. '89 was generally just a lousy, diluted year in Napa, but I recall Todd saying when we visited the winery a few years later that he was pretty proud of his '89s, which is why we made a point of digging some up.

Anyway, the hit of the night was the '96, which had a definite cedar/cigar box thing happening wrapped in really sweet dark red fruit. I also liked the '93 quite a lot, but it had a little too much of an earthy, roasted nut nuance for some people. All in all, I'd say these wines were delicious but a bit on the simple side. They all lacked the complexity to qualify as first class, but I'm glad to them in my cellar.

The Ruffinos were an entirely different story. The Ducale Oro is Ruffino's top of the line Chianti Classico Riserva. It's another wine that's fallen out of favor in recent years and I wanted to see why. I've had the opportunity to try quite a few of the '85s, '86s and '88s over the years and have always been impressed. At this tasting, we opened the '88, '90, '95 and '97, without question the top vintages of that decade, but none of them showed very well.

Right off the bat, I made a mistake. I had fully intended to taste the Chiantis before the Cabs, but I numbered the bottles wrong (it was a blind tasting) and by the time I realized it, the first flight had been poured. After the rich, lush Cabernets, these wines tasted thin and dull, and it just goes to show how important such choices can be. But, that said, the wines were disappointing. As I said, I've tried the '88 several times before with meals and have always found it too young but promising, with none of the sour, tired flavors it had here.

Which brings up another point. Chiantis, for me, anyway, are food wines. They aren't fun to sip by themselves unless they've been manipulated with lots of new oak and/or excessive ripening for that purpose. So I'm going to reserve my judgment for now and hope that these wines will surprise and delight under better circumstances.

Tuesday, December 3, 2002

I'm accumulating quite a pile of things to post on here, and the problem is I've already forgotten what half of them tasted like. I have written notes to refresh my memory on the mini-vertical tasting I mentioned earlier, so I'm going to put that off just a bit longer.

From the Central California Coast. 1997 Hiching Post Syrah, Rodney's Vineyard. Wow. I've had the luxury of getting to taste these at regular intervals over the past few years and they're really starting to open up. The last one, about a year ago, was too explosively fruity to go well with food. This one was much calmer, still very fruity and really nice with grilled ostrich, which I usually pair with a Pinot from the same area. 1996 Foxen Vineyard Bien Nacido Pinot Noir, also with grilled ostrich, was at its peak. Gorgeous, almost a shame to drink with food but more of a shame not to. From top to bottom, one delightful mouthful after another of soft, pliable red fruit, long, exotic finish, round and mellow and just delicious. Most of the '96s I've opened lately have been thin and weedy and this was a wonderful surprise. And, alas, my last bottle.

From the Rhône Valley. Well, this is the time of the year that I usually start lightening up on the California Pinot and getting back to the Rhône. I was pretty disappointed in the 1989 Jaboulet Aîné Côte Rôtie Les Jumelles, though. It was a pale shadow of what I expected, so much so that I can't say much more than that about it. The 1994 Beaucastel Châteauneuf-du-Pape, on the other hand, was a blockbuster. Not nearly "ready," but loads of fun to drink, especially by comparison to the Les Jumelles, with which we had started the same evening. This one's still not knit together, but its parts are enjoyable as they are. The 1995 La Vieux Donjon was also tight, much less approachable than the '94 we had a few weeks ago, but showing promise. Like I said, my specific memories of these Rhônes are already fuzzy. Impressions for future reference.

Oh. The '86 Montelena. Well, that'll have to wait, too. It's way past my bedtime.