This old couple were in for lunch today, and the husband was hard of hearing and I suspect had difficulty seeing as well.
Both when I took their drink order and their lunch order, she ordered first and he followed with “I’ll have what she’s having.” I suspect this is the way it goes every time they go out and I think it’s adorable.
Please, Please, Please, age your wines!
This Austrian red isn’t exactly known to be la crème de la crème. Austria isn’t exactly the biggest player on the the international wine scene, and an obscure blend that doesn’t even make the label is not the most New World friendly approach. Don’t let that fool you.
“Cuvée 6” is an amazing step up from your everyday Austrian wine you can find in the States (though not in price, this retailed around $20 when I bought it). It is a blend of Zweigelt, Blaufränkisch, Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot, though the percentages are unknown to me. The nose is a both dusty and fruity. The palate starts with a hit of something inky, that immediately is cast aside with a lift of acidity and red fruits, we are then left to linger with some autumn spices and dryness.
This wine does exactly what I love about Austrian wines, it straddles the line between something Old World and New World. The dustiness on the nose, the fact that it’s unfiltered, the lift of acidity in the middle, and the complexity of the wine as a whole all suggest something Old World. The juicy fruit on the nose and in the palate, the inkiness at the beginning, and the very dry finish all suggest a New World wine.
As I scoured the internet for more about this wine I came across somebody who describe this wine both as being sophisticated and racy, “like bringing a hooker to the library”. However colorful, I cannot think of a more accurate analogy.
Also, don’t let the age fool you either, at 11 years old, this wine still has some kick to it. That centered acidity is really nice to see. If it were tasting this blind’ I don’t think I’d guess it were this old. The color is just barely beginning to brown on the edges. I would have guessed this was a much more complex (and expensive) younger wine. This is a perfect example of the value of aging your wines. The complexity of flavors and feelings comes from aging the wine, and makes this $20 bottle taste and feel like a $40 to $50 wine. So, please, age your wines!
As Hurricane Irene bristles against the East Coast, a cool damp breeze rustles in through my window; and as I relax from a week’s work, I find myself looking for a wine that is deep enough to get lost in, on this rainy evening. I immediately thought “Italy.”
I picked up the Oddero Barolo off my shelf and looked at the vintage: 2004. At seven years old, this might be a bit too young, but I’ve made the mistake of over-aging Barolo before, so I decided to go for it.
Thank God I did. This wine is exactly what I was looking for. Opening the bottle I got this whiff of something old, but rich. This wine is an adventure unto itself, like going through a box of old photos in the attic that you’ve never seen before. There is something familiar about it, whether it’s the dark, flavorful fruit, or the soft, smooth, elegant tannins, or dark yet floral nose and deep red color, I’m not sure which. And yet it feels as though all these comforting characteristics hide behind a thin vale of an ancient history, like a silk sheet over and intricate and lavish piece of quality furniture, that while a bit faded with age, is even more gorgeous than the day it was built.
And really, isn’t that exactly what has happened here?
In Barolo, wines are built to be aged. Made of 100% Nebbiolo aged in a less-agressive oak (usually French, but in this case Slovakian). Nebbiolo is one of those grapes that needs age. In its youth, it can be rough, overly tannic, and simultaneously dense and shallow (overly rich in the front, but dissipates too quickly to enjoy any complexity). With some time in the bottle, the grape truly does mature almost like a human: the roughness smooths out, the tannins become almost silky in texture, and the flavors and fruit spread out into a lengthy and interesting mouthful. It’s like a punk student growing up into the patient professor.
Now, this does come with a bit of a price tag. Barolo is a tiny little region in northern Italy. Their rarity-by-law combined with a long tradition of superior wines and an increasingly-fierce tight-knit global market means that these wines can easily get up into the $100+ price bracket. Fortunately, the Oddero is a bit calmer: I think I bought this bottle for around $45 or $50 about four years ago.
In short: exactly what I was hoping for. Not only was this wine totally worth the price, and not only was there some satisfaction in opening a bottle I’d held onto for a while, but most of all it was the perfect thing for the stormy night.
