Back in 2000, when I was compiling a prolific portfolio of online wine reviews, I received an email from a fellow wine writer on the consumer-oriented web site: "With your permission, I'd like to send you a wine to review." It took me two full nanoseconds to respond: "Permission granted!" Knowing a bit about the ultra-refined tastes of this elegant man -- an attorney in Manila with seemingly no budget when it came to food, wine and cigars -- I sensed it would be one very special selection. However, there was no way on earth I was prepared for the 1978 Chateau Haut-Brion that flew in from New York a few weeks later.
In a pitiful effort to feel worthy of such a gift, and to silence that part of my mind that kept taunting me with a "pearls before swine, pearls before swine" chant, I set out to educate my little piggy self. My generous benefactor had penned his own review of the 1988 vintage so I started my education there: "Chateau Haut-Brion, a Graves, is the only 1855 classified first growth not from the Medoc district. The oldest great chateau of Bordeaux, it is the last family-owned domaine and traces its beginnings to the early 16th century. Known for its consistently fine structure, harmony and smoothness, it is surprisingly and, thankfully, reasonably priced (and I use that term loosely) compared to the other first growths."
The Wine Spectator chimed in: "The estate, the smallest of the first-growths, has about 106 acres of vines (45 percent cabernet sauvignon, 37 percent merlot and 18 percent cabernet franc) from which it produces an average of 12,000 cases of its red grand vin per year."
And then I decided that Rumi was the quintessential go-to guy on all things wine: "God has given us a dark wine that, drinking it, we leave the two worlds."
I probably don't have to tell you that this was the oldest wine that has ever passed my lips, and the most expensive. (I can't cite the exact amount paid, for a lady never discusses the price of a gift, but I'm gonna ballpark it at $200, give or take $50.) I treated the bottle with awe and reverence, and a little fear, saving it for just the right occasion. Months passed. Holidays and birthdays came and went. The wine waited down in the garage in poised and patient nobility. I researched it further. I solicited suggestions from dozens of people regarding what I should pair with this wine. I received dozens of differing opinions. No two wine collectors agreed on the perfect food worthy of this classic. One mandate resonated: "Drink it in the company of someone very special and let the food take care of itself."
As serendipity would have it, a beloved, longtime friend and spiritual teacher came to town for a visit. We'll call him "Dr. Joy." I intuitively knew that this was the moment I'd been waiting for. We dined out at the same small Pagosa restaurant both nights, and the 1978 Haut-Brion accompanied us on the second. We asked our delightful food server, Natalie, to come in early the next evening so she could taste the wine with us. The chef was uncharacteristically not on property that night, but "more for us" was my response to that.
I asked to open the wine myself, (yes, yes... control issues), so I could assess the cork's condition. I was quite surprised to find it very pliable and not brittle in the least with relatively no sediment of any kind appearing until the very last sip in the final glass.
Dr. Joy and I observed that the wine was dense yet not at all cloudy; a deeply-saturated purple with just a hint of brick red around the edges. The nose presented a wonderful melange of light blackberries, raspberries and cherries. The fruit smelled aged to me, but not stewed or overly-ripe; somehow well-preserved yet also retaining moderate freshness. The alcohol was almost imperceptible, and there were vegetative nuances I couldn't specify.
The thrill of tasting wine with a mystic is that they can read wine like they read people and events. Dr. Joy immediately described his first sip as "antique, old and fine." Soon he was invoking the name of "Memoria," the goddess of memory, as he was transported back into "other times and eras." The aged wood aromas seemed to open him up to a range of collective elemental and earthy forces. He decreed it an "ancient wisdom wine." I nodded an "uh huh" and scribed on.
I found the taste of the wine lacking the promise held in the nose. The fruit that remained was very light, and this led me to perceive the more earthy/soil/herbal elements as the dominant flavors. I picked up a lot of eucalyptus and cedar, Natalie noticed the herbal components the most, and the bartender summed up his taste experience with "tobacco." We all concurred that "it doesn't taste like it smells," and for me, that was a disappointment.
We were unanimous as well about the in-mouth experiences, finding the first sip the most lively followed by a subtle sweetness mid-palate. The wine had a soft but earthy, rather medium-bodied character and Natalie and I found the finish very short and drying. Dr. Joy was emphatic that it brought to his mind a lover who leaves suddenly -- in fact -- "abandons" was the precise word I was to use to summarize his perceived betrayal by the finish. The finish abandons! He found that suddenly his tongue was not just furry but numbing quickly. His desire to continue sipping was strong, however, so as to enjoy the delightful front-of-the-mouth fruits and acids. Ever the courageous warrior, he managed to press through the painful abandonment issues evoked by the short finish and mouth-numbing sensations. He so enjoyed the Haut-Brion that I gave him my glass and switched to the '99 Hannah Sauvignon Blanc from Napa.
"Any wine will get you high. Judge like a king and choose the purest, the ones unadulterated with fear, or some urgency about 'what's needed.' Drink the wine that moves you as a camel moves as it's been untied, and is just ambling about." - Rumi
This is where the evening started to get a bit hazy and all protocol and propriety were forsaken for spontaneity and laughter. I got down with my just-untied-bad-camel-self and ambled head-first into the very refreshing and palate-resuscitating sauvignon blanc. Dr. Joy tasted my young Napa white wine, pronounced it "mindless" in contrast to his "contemplative" antique French red, and again I thought: "Good. More for me."
As for food pairing issues, what we ordered had less to do with the wine than with not duplicating what we'd had the night before. I did notice that the Haut-Brion really perked up in the licorice/anise/spice department when I tried it with the calamari marinara appetizer. Dr. Joy enjoyed duck with his Haut-Brion, and I had a New York strip with my mindless sauvignon blanc. It was all good, but by then I was so overstimulated by the company, conversation, laughter, and just being out of the house for the second night in a row, the meal was an afterthought (thoroughly enjoyed at home a few hours later, like the prior evening's, alone in the quiet darkness, straight from the to-go container.)
I am not one to offer advice on the aging of first growth Bordeaux, but I will go out on a limb and suggest that if you are cellaring the 1978 Haut-Brion, now would be the time to drink up. For fruit freaks like me, it was waning back in 2000. For contemplative mystics, it might still invoke the ancient and ageless wisdoms.
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
America's first perfect - Groth '85 reserve cabernet
Hard to imagine, I know, but in the Fall of 1988 I left a hot and miserable existence in Fresno, CA, for a hot and idyllic existence in the Napa Valley. Heck - I had close family there. It's not like the area offered anything else of interest to me.
I landed a waitressing job at a French restaurant in Yountville (no, not the French Laundry, sadly) on my 31st birthday and thus began my accelerated introduction to the local wineries, winemakers, chefs, caterers, vineyard managers and other demi-gods of the valley. Soon I was waitressing at Auberge du Soleil, working for several of the Valley's busiest caterers, and eventually created my own little freelance food and wine service. I got paid a decent hourly wage for pouring wine and serving incredible food for a plethora of winery and private parties. Heaven, despite the brutal heat.
Fortune (and my manicurist) introduced me to Judy Groth, co-owner with husband Dennis of the Groth Vineyards and Winery in Oakville, CA. Mrs. Groth was a wonderful cook and frequently found herself entertaining all manner of industry folk in the opulent winery dining room serviced by her perfect, self-designed catering kitchen. I was the hired help, upon occasion.
The Groth's eldest daughter, Elizabeth, was the Director of Marketing, and we become fast friends. All of this access allowed me to purchase two bottles of the Groth 1985 Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon. The wine was released on February 1, 1989, and Robert Parker decreed it to be: "America's First Perfect", awarding it a perfect score of 100 points. I still have the winery's promotional t-shirt that says as much. Needless to say, for him to crown a California Cabernet with a perfect 100 was marketing magic. The Wine Spectator chimed in with a 97, and the Groths had a winemaking coup on their hands.
Groth Vineyards & Winery was established in 1982. More than 100 tons of grapes from the family vineyards were crushed into the first vintage that year. Production increased quickly to 30,000 cases by 1984. In 1985 the winery needed full-time attention from Dennis and Judy and they moved their family to the Oakville property. The first phase of construction had been completed on the winery and by 1989 the winery was done. Over the next decade, Groth Vineyards & Winery firmly established its reputation as an outstanding producer of Napa Valley wines. Production increased to approximately 40,000 cases annually and Groth began to use all of the grapes from the estate vineyards.
Back in 1985, Nils Venge was the winemaker extraordinnaire in residence. He founded his own Oakville winery, Saddleback Cellars, in 1982 and parted ways with Groth in 1993 to bask in his own full-time glory at Saddleback. The 1985 growing season brought a warm spring and an earlier than normal bud break. The rest of the summer was long and cool. The fluctuating weather slowed down the usually hectic picking and crushing frenzy, allowing the winery to concentrate on each of the varietals a bit longer during the hand-harvest and crush process.
All of the grapes for the 1985 reserve came from one section of the Oakville vineyards that border the winery. The blend was 80% Cabernet Sauvignon and 20% Merlot. It spent 24 months aging in new French oak and another year aging in the bottle. The alcohol level was 13.4% upon release.
I paid $25 each for my two bottles. I don't recall when or where I drank the first bottle, but it could have been one night at Piatti's in Sonoma with Elizabeth Groth. I know we opened someone's 85 Reserve Cab over dinner; hers, mine, ours - who can recall so many years later?
I do recall the wine. It was by far one of the most rich and complex reds I had ever tasted. The fruit was lush and silky, brimming with deep cherry and berry flavors and nuances of coffee, chocolate, and plum. The Merlot grapes contributed the perfect portion of earth, pepper and tannins and the finish was smooth, long and lingering. The wine was all the rage and a prized possession to be treasured.
I remember my absolute commitment to not touching my second bottle for a long while, even when it was my last bottle of wine, and even when I was down to my last dollar. By then, folks were paying between $300 and $400 per bottle. Near riots ensued in the winery parking lot as wine geeks plotted their acquisition strategies. It was my first inside look at the lunacy often inspired by 750ml of fermented grape juice. A cult wine pioneer to be sure.
I saved my second bottle, schlepped it to Monterey with me in 1991, and somewhere around 1992 or 1993, I finally broke down. I hauled it out of the garage and opened it, all alone, in my funky Monterey Bay apartment. It was good, it was "auspicious", but it was a bottle of wine, for God's sake. I reflected upon just how much numinosity and sacredness I had projected upon this one bottle; so many memories and expectations spanning so much time. The experience again reminded me that perception and limited availability of anything is 95% of the magnetism.
I still think fondly about the wine and those years; the very inspiring and educational times with the Groth family at their beautiful winery and vineyards. They also produce great sauvignon blancs, in case you ever run across one, and continue to operate their winery as a closely-held family business. Daughter Elizabeth relocated to Atlanta in 1993 and appears to run a very successful wine and food retail operation, Embry Villiage Wine and Spirits.
Speaking of longstanding Napa Valley cabernet classics and Boss' Day last Monday, my boss lady presented me with a congratulatory bottle of Stags' Leap 2002 cabernet sauvignon not too long ago. Despite my attempts to cellar it until winter, there inevitably came that one night when it was the only bottle around and I was down to my last dollar, and well, you know the rest.
I was surprised by the wine's light structure but enjoyed the trip down Napa Cab Memory Lane. The soft red berries and cherries were nicely supported by a hint of spice, chocolate and dark coffee. 92% cabernet sauvignon, 6% cabernet franc, 2% merlot, and 14.1% alcohol. You gotta know that the $48 price tag makes it one of the most expensive wines I've enjoyed all year. And enjoy it I did!
I landed a waitressing job at a French restaurant in Yountville (no, not the French Laundry, sadly) on my 31st birthday and thus began my accelerated introduction to the local wineries, winemakers, chefs, caterers, vineyard managers and other demi-gods of the valley. Soon I was waitressing at Auberge du Soleil, working for several of the Valley's busiest caterers, and eventually created my own little freelance food and wine service. I got paid a decent hourly wage for pouring wine and serving incredible food for a plethora of winery and private parties. Heaven, despite the brutal heat.
Fortune (and my manicurist) introduced me to Judy Groth, co-owner with husband Dennis of the Groth Vineyards and Winery in Oakville, CA. Mrs. Groth was a wonderful cook and frequently found herself entertaining all manner of industry folk in the opulent winery dining room serviced by her perfect, self-designed catering kitchen. I was the hired help, upon occasion.
The Groth's eldest daughter, Elizabeth, was the Director of Marketing, and we become fast friends. All of this access allowed me to purchase two bottles of the Groth 1985 Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon. The wine was released on February 1, 1989, and Robert Parker decreed it to be: "America's First Perfect", awarding it a perfect score of 100 points. I still have the winery's promotional t-shirt that says as much. Needless to say, for him to crown a California Cabernet with a perfect 100 was marketing magic. The Wine Spectator chimed in with a 97, and the Groths had a winemaking coup on their hands.
Groth Vineyards & Winery was established in 1982. More than 100 tons of grapes from the family vineyards were crushed into the first vintage that year. Production increased quickly to 30,000 cases by 1984. In 1985 the winery needed full-time attention from Dennis and Judy and they moved their family to the Oakville property. The first phase of construction had been completed on the winery and by 1989 the winery was done. Over the next decade, Groth Vineyards & Winery firmly established its reputation as an outstanding producer of Napa Valley wines. Production increased to approximately 40,000 cases annually and Groth began to use all of the grapes from the estate vineyards.
Back in 1985, Nils Venge was the winemaker extraordinnaire in residence. He founded his own Oakville winery, Saddleback Cellars, in 1982 and parted ways with Groth in 1993 to bask in his own full-time glory at Saddleback. The 1985 growing season brought a warm spring and an earlier than normal bud break. The rest of the summer was long and cool. The fluctuating weather slowed down the usually hectic picking and crushing frenzy, allowing the winery to concentrate on each of the varietals a bit longer during the hand-harvest and crush process.
All of the grapes for the 1985 reserve came from one section of the Oakville vineyards that border the winery. The blend was 80% Cabernet Sauvignon and 20% Merlot. It spent 24 months aging in new French oak and another year aging in the bottle. The alcohol level was 13.4% upon release.
I paid $25 each for my two bottles. I don't recall when or where I drank the first bottle, but it could have been one night at Piatti's in Sonoma with Elizabeth Groth. I know we opened someone's 85 Reserve Cab over dinner; hers, mine, ours - who can recall so many years later?
I do recall the wine. It was by far one of the most rich and complex reds I had ever tasted. The fruit was lush and silky, brimming with deep cherry and berry flavors and nuances of coffee, chocolate, and plum. The Merlot grapes contributed the perfect portion of earth, pepper and tannins and the finish was smooth, long and lingering. The wine was all the rage and a prized possession to be treasured.
I remember my absolute commitment to not touching my second bottle for a long while, even when it was my last bottle of wine, and even when I was down to my last dollar. By then, folks were paying between $300 and $400 per bottle. Near riots ensued in the winery parking lot as wine geeks plotted their acquisition strategies. It was my first inside look at the lunacy often inspired by 750ml of fermented grape juice. A cult wine pioneer to be sure.
I saved my second bottle, schlepped it to Monterey with me in 1991, and somewhere around 1992 or 1993, I finally broke down. I hauled it out of the garage and opened it, all alone, in my funky Monterey Bay apartment. It was good, it was "auspicious", but it was a bottle of wine, for God's sake. I reflected upon just how much numinosity and sacredness I had projected upon this one bottle; so many memories and expectations spanning so much time. The experience again reminded me that perception and limited availability of anything is 95% of the magnetism.
I still think fondly about the wine and those years; the very inspiring and educational times with the Groth family at their beautiful winery and vineyards. They also produce great sauvignon blancs, in case you ever run across one, and continue to operate their winery as a closely-held family business. Daughter Elizabeth relocated to Atlanta in 1993 and appears to run a very successful wine and food retail operation, Embry Villiage Wine and Spirits.
Speaking of longstanding Napa Valley cabernet classics and Boss' Day last Monday, my boss lady presented me with a congratulatory bottle of Stags' Leap 2002 cabernet sauvignon not too long ago. Despite my attempts to cellar it until winter, there inevitably came that one night when it was the only bottle around and I was down to my last dollar, and well, you know the rest.
I was surprised by the wine's light structure but enjoyed the trip down Napa Cab Memory Lane. The soft red berries and cherries were nicely supported by a hint of spice, chocolate and dark coffee. 92% cabernet sauvignon, 6% cabernet franc, 2% merlot, and 14.1% alcohol. You gotta know that the $48 price tag makes it one of the most expensive wines I've enjoyed all year. And enjoy it I did!
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