Browse Month

May 2011

Don’t be l’Effraied of the dark

Nicolas “Domaine de Bellivière” 2006 Coteaux du Loir “l’Effraie” (Loire) – Semi-oxidized, and though chenin is a grape that can handle a certain amount of oxygen, this has gone too far in a stale, coppered nut direction. There’s still dust and softness, as there was in the wine’s youth, but both have been rendered clumsy by the oxidation. A shame. I have more, so I’m hoping cork variance is at least partially to blame. (5/11)

Mein chance

Viña Mein 2001 Ribeiro (Northwest Spain) – While this has acquired the depth of age, it hasn’t required any actual content to that depth. Then again, I didn’t have it at release, so maybe this is all there ever was. Hollow bronze and gilding; a canister of a wine, rather than the wine itself. It’s not without interest, but it’s a brief intellectual dalliance. Nothing more. (5/11)

Tramway

Trimbach 2004 Gewurztraminer (Alsace) – Really faded. I don’t think it’s just age, I suspect at least partial cork failure, because other recent bottles have been much more flavorful. (5/11)

Over there

Endless tasting notes, full of obscure metaphors and impossible analogies — and let’s not even get into the ridiculous puns — not your thing? The long-form pedantry action is over at oenoLogic. Though I can’t promise an end to the puns. They’ve pretty much metastasized at this point.

Two

Trimbach 2002 Riesling (Alsace) – Past it. (5/11)

Trimbach 2004 Riesling (Alsace) – Teetering but still clinging to its youthful vibrancy. Where there was iron, stone, and dust, a fierce wind has blown in, though, and away, leaving a photographic memory of same. It’s still everything one expects from négociant Trimbach, but it needs to be gulletized real soonish. (5/11)

Jeff

Chateau Tahbilk 1994 Shiraz (Goulburn Valley) – The vines for this wine were planted in 1860, ungrafted and pre-phylloxera. And while I can’t say if it’s the vines, the terroir, or the winemaking, you have to toss everything you think you know about Aussie shiraz when faced with this wine in your glass. Brash acidity, tart reddish-black berries, peppercorns, cedar, and black dust…no, this isn’t what one thinks of as Australian shiraz, but neither is it European; almost no classic syrah from France or elsewhere tastes like this, either. I can’t decide if this is just a little past its best or is merely amidst a very long and lingering maturity; just based on this bottle I’d guess the former, but I’ve had older versions that were still in development, so patience could also be warranted. This is a true treasure, and proof that its neighbors wines don’t have to be made as they are. Whether or not one prefers that they are is a different question, of course. (5/11)

West

Easton 1998 Zinfandel “Estate” (Shenandoah Valley) – 15.1%. I drank through a fair quantity of this in lingering disappointment, as it never seemed to budge from its youthful expression of fulsome, arboreal fruitiness no matter how many years passed. Well, I think I’ve found the magic number, or at least this particular bottle has. Well into a developed stage of autumnal arbor, with meat and herb waving from the horizon. It’s still fruity, but the wild black juiciness is tempered by an encrustation of black pepper. And frankly, the alcohol is virtually unnoticeable; so much so that based on organoleptic evidence alone, I’d have guessed something much lower (looking at the wine’s adhesiveness to a glass tells a different story, but that’s cheating). This is a lot more interesting now than it was. (5/11)

Gingrich

Red Newt Cellars 2007 Dry Riesling “Reserve” (Finger Lakes) – The petroleum factory called. They’d like their tank back. I want to like this, because the structure is so nervy and vibrant, but the wine is just buried in gasoline. A shame. (5/11)

She turned me into a riesling!

Red Newt Cellars 2009 Riesling (Finger Lakes) – There’s data on the back label! Let’s see what it says: 3.4% residual sugar, 8.7 g/l total/titratable acidity, pH 3.1, mking the wine medium-sweet on their helpful scale. Since sarcasm could easily be considered my baseline tone, let me issue a corrective: I kind of love this level of information, and wish that more wines with definitionally ambiguous sweetness levels would provide this or similar information. Alsace, I’m looking at you, with a sideways glance at Vouvray, certain Sancerrois…and we could keep going along these lines for a while.

Unfortunately, in this case I think information outpaces quality. There’s a froth-textured and dilute salinity that is, for me, characteristic of riesling that’s not developed enough…I use that word rather than “ripe” on purpose…to bring the grape’s natural precision to the fore. Thus, the sweetness doesn’t soften the impact of a sharp edge, as it does in better rieslings, it just hangs about in bored indifference. By the second glass, I’m equally bored. (5/11)

Me & Florio down by the schoolyard

Florio 1993 Marsala Vergine “Vecchioflorio” (Sicily) – Tepid. The wan aroma of old, tarnished metals and preserved fruit soon gives way to a vague sort of gesturing in lieu of actual presence. Texturally it’s better, wrapping the palate in liquid silk. The finish broadens somewhat, and the wine’s push towards dryness (it is not dry) is to its benefit. But in the end, it just doesn’t amount to all that much, other than its hefty whack of alcohol and the impression, if not the actuality, of gravity. I miss Marco di Bartoli more and more with each passing Marsala. (5/11)