Levi's Luncheon

The other day I was lucky enough to attend the luncheon honoring Levi Dalton, the head sommelier at Convivio who is now moving to Alto. Levi is one of those guys who loves to share whatever he has with you, so as the host of the luncheon, he opened some pretty amazing wine. I drank some things I've never had before and I want to share a few thoughts.

Bottles were passed around the tables in a mostly random order, so you helped yourself to a little pour as each bottle made it to the table. The very first wine to hit one of my glasses (I had four, I am proud to say) was the 1986 Mas de Daumas Gassac Vin de Pays de l'Hérault. I've wanted to taste this iconic wine from the Languedoc for a long time now. It is mostly Cabernet Sauvignon and there little bits of many other grapes in there too. Here's the thing - if I were served blind, I would have thought it to be a young wine. Perhaps it's because it actually was the youngest wine at the luncheon, but I just don't know. Supposedly it takes forever for one of these to come around. If this is representative of the '86, it has another 20 years to go before it starts to show some secondary notes. Can anyone shed some light on this Mas de Daumas Gassac phenomenon?

We drank some old Nebbiolo, including 1969 Luigi Nervi & Figlio "Riserva del Titolare" Gattinara, 1964 Luigi Nervi & Figlio "Riserva del Titolare - Podere dei Ginepri" Gattinara, and 1964 and 1967 Fratelli Bettini Valtellina Sassella Riserva. I prefer to drink Nebbiolo that is older than these when I have lunch, but this is what Levi had, so it is what it is. These wines were all fascinating to me - I don't know about you , but I don't drink wines like this very often. I think my favorite was the '64 Luigi Nervi. It was remarkably fresh and vibrant for such an old wine, and it played very nicely with Testa, Convivio's house made pork terrine with fried egg.

(photo courtesy of Scott Reiner)

And then there were the two Baroli, the 1982 Giacomo Conterno Monfortino Riserva Barolo and the 1978 Giuseppe Mascarello e Figlio Villero Barolo. Although I left it to rest in one of my glasses for the entire span of the luncheon, the Conterno never really finished unfolding itself (although it's possible and likely that I simply do not understand the wine). It was a striking wine, and I wish I still had it in my glass. The Mascarello was just beautiful. I don't know what else to say about it, except that it was the physical manifestation of what I imagine great Barolo to be.

I loved the 1986 Olga Raffault Chinon Les Picasses too, and the guy I sat next to, David Lillie of Chambers Street Wines thought it smelled great too, but Joe Dressner waved his hand and scoffed at the wine and said it was too green. He imports Raffault's wines, and knows them as well as anyone, so who am I to argue. But I would drink it anyday...There were other great things, including a 1982 Macle Chateau Chalon, but I've said enough about the wine already. The company was great too, an excellent group of people from all over the wine world, all Levi's friends and all happy to be there to congratulate him.

It's funny to be the least experienced person at an event like this one. A group of experienced wine pros like this, and with wines like these - I expected the atmosphere to be one of reverence and quiet contemplation. Not at all, my friends. These folks understand wines like this, they've had them many times before. Serious tasting occurred, of course, but so did catching up about daily life. Some one's basement flooded that morning, and they had to stand there with a bucket. Some one else's huge dogs love her apartment, but she's worried that other people don't love it so much, and she's expecting vignerons as guests - what to do? Some one else is annoyed with how disrespectful and impolite competitors often are at industry tastings. Someone else has to leave early to get back to selling wine. Life doesn't stop for 1964 Luigi Nervi, I guess.

Anyway, congratulations on your achievements Levi, and all the best in your new role. New York is better for having you here.

Don't Completely Trust Yourself at Tastings

Further proof, if any was needed, that it is futile to try to really understand wine at a large industry tasting:

Almost two years ago, I think it was, I tasted this wine alongside the 1990 vintage at one of Dressner's tastings. I remember being interested in both wines, not loving either of them, and finding the '90 to be more inviting. So I bought a bottle of the 1990 and we greatly enjoyed it. In the comments on that post, some people suggested that the '89 was an even better wine. I meant to try it, but I never got around to it. In fact, I drank the '90 again at a restaurant, where it did not show well - never really opened up, stayed kind of shrill and screechy the whole night. And this was after me promising my father in-law that it would be amazing.

Yesterday my pal Peter came over for dinner and he had a bottle of the '89 in tow - 1989 Olga Raffault Chinon Les Picasses, Louis/Dressner Selections, about $65. Can I tell you that this wine was absolutely magnificent? And first let me tell you that at the Dressner tasting this wine came off as a bretty mess. The Dressner team is unsurpassed, in my opinion, at putting on excellent industry tastings - well organized, plenty of room to taste and think no matter how crowded they are. So it wasn't about the conditions at the tasting. Bottle variation? Could be, but I doubt it. Peter said that as he paid for the wine, David Lillie told him that "when this wine shows well, it's great. But not every bottle is great." But I don't think the Dressner team would have showed a lesser bottle at their tasting. Who ever opened it would have noticed and opened another bottle.

I think it's just not realistic to think that a wine like this can be understood over a few minutes in a crowded room with the traces of 25 other wines on the tongue. This is not a new idea, I know, but it was very real for me last night as we drank this wine. We opened it right as Peter arrived, and it had nice exotic spices on the nose and also a big breath of barnyard. We left it alone for the next hour while we drank the fantastic remnants of the previous evening's Lustau Almacenista Gonzales Obregon Fino del Puerto Sherry, selected by Christopher Cannan, Imported by Michael Skurnik Wines, and cooked and ate my rather lame attempt at kinpira burdock root.

When we came back to it, the Chinon was just magnificent. The nose was complex with spices and stewed fruit, and had the great depth and dimension that mature good wine has. And the palate was fully resolved and showed amazing breadth and detail of flavor. It really spread out in the mouth and the fragrance lingered long after swallowing. This is what I hope my 2002 Raffault Chinons will turn into. This is what I hope all of my Chinons turn into. This was just beautiful and completely satisfying wine.

And to think - I had all but rejected this wine based on a few minutes at a tasting. Let this serve as a reminder to me and to anyone else who cares: never never never do that. Tastings are great but they cannot offer the whole truth, especially regarding mature wines. They offer a cross section of the wine, but a wine like this changes every 15 minutes. At a tasting, you have no idea which 15 minutes you're in. There's no way to really understand until you drink the wine over the course of an evening.

So...what if a mature wine by a solid producer is not so impressive at a tasting. Should I assume that it might be great and buy it anyway? That doesn't make sense. So why even taste the 1989 at a tasting? Perhaps it can do more harm than good, a la my Raffault 1989 experience. But I will never not taste a wine like that if I see it at a tasting. So how do you take your understanding of the cross section of wine you're tasting, and generalize from it in a meaningful way? I do not know the answer to these questions, I'm sorry to tell you. Please feel free to share any insights.

Dressner Portfolio Tasting Notes

So after the hard and wonderful work of the Terry Theise Portfolio tasting, we rushed over to the east side for Louis/Dressner tasting. There was simply no way to taste everything, even if this were the only tasting of the day. There were 250 wines, and I don't know about you, but I can't thoughtfully taste more than about 50 wines in one session.

I had to narrow the field, and so very sadly, I decided to taste mostly the new vintages of old and familiar wines. The Italian wines - I didn't taste 'em. Wines of the Savoie - didn't taste 'em. Burgundy, Jura, and Muscadet...nope.

Did I taste anything, you might be wondering, or did I just mingle with the wine stars? Oh, I tasted, buddy, and some great wine at that. I went for the Bubbles, the Beaujolais, the Cab Franc, and the Chenin Blanc. I had an hour - that's all I had time for.

First, I have to tell you about the 20 year table. In honor of their 20th anniversary, the Dressner folk dug into the cellar and set out a load of wines from their inaugural vintage. How thoughtful is that? And what a great opportunity for those of us (like me) who haven't tasted many of these wines with bottle age. I missed some of these wines, much to my dismay. Breton's Bourgueil Perrières, Chateau d'Oupia Cuvée les Barons, Pepière Clos des Briords...gone. And the Clos Rougeard Le Bourg - corked (but even so the fruit was young and lovely). The 1988 Closel Savennières Clos du Papillon was complex and beautiful, and the Chidaine Montlouis Clos Habert and the Pinon Vouvray Moelleux were great too. And as far as I know, 1988 wasn't a particularly great vintage - just a normal working class year in the Loire Valley. I'm more determined than ever to let my bottles sleep in peace...

Bubbles first, and what bubbles! Larmandier-Bernier wines are so different from the wide open style of much of the Theise portfolio. These wines are not generous, they are cautious and they'll hold back on you. There is nothing similar in style in the Theise portfolio except maybe Gimonnet, and those wines, if I may say so, do not have comparable depth or focus. These are piercing wines of great definition, and they can seem like turtles, just their head visible underneath all of that shell.

The Blanc de Blancs was opened as I was standing there and needed time to come together. But this bottle of Terre de Vertus showed better than any other I've tasted - richly fragrant with broad mineral flavors and ripe fruit. A memorable wine, and well worth the price (about $75). The 2004 Vieille Vignes de Cramant was focused and lovely with floral notes, although quite closed. There was no Rosé de Saignée left, which is tragic, as I have never tasted this legend of a wine.

Right near the Bubbly table sat two unattended bottles of Dard et Ribo white wine, both from 2006, a Crozes-Hermitage Blanc and a Saint-Joseph Blanc. I've never tasted a Dard et Ribo wine but I'd heard very good things, and these were better than very good. Fresh and pure with beautiful fruit and floral aromas, and great texture - voluptuous without that viscosity that find distracting in white Rhone wines.

Next was Beaujolais. This is such an impressive aspect of the Dressner portfolio. We're talking about many of the finest producers - Desvignes, Descombes, Brun, Tête, and Roilette, all at the same table. The wines that I liked the most on this day were the 2007 Clos de la Roilette Fleurie for its grace and purity of fruit, and the 2006 Desvignes Morgon Côte du Py for its depth and brambly intensity. There were many other excellent wines, but these are the two that I wanted to take those home with me.

The 2006's from Chidaine are quite good, although if you're used to the 2005's they will seem light. The 2006's are probably typical and the 2005's are probably extra rich and intense. My favorite was the 2006 Clos Habert, a demi-sec wine that I also love in 2005. The 2007 Pinon Vouvray Cuvee Silex Noir is just a great wine too, and a very good value at about $25. It was the temperamental 2006 Anjou Blanc from Agnès et René Mosse that I liked best of the current Chenin Blancs, with rich fruit on top of a pool of minerals, and a great underlying streak of acidity. At about $23, this is another excellent value. Rich enough to drink with a hangar steak, relaxed enough to enjoy with a bowl of vegetable soup.

I took a brief Burgundy excursion at this point and tasted through the Philippe Pacalet wines. Pacalet has a cellar in Beaune proper and buys grapes from various growers, often tending the plots himself. His wines are made in the classic style, focusing on purity, grace, and expression of terroir (read - not overly extracted and dark). Although these are not among my favorite red Burgundies, tasting Pacalet's 2006's was as fine a lesson in terroir of the Côte de Nuits as I've ever had. The Nuits-St-Georges was earthy and had wild game on the nose. The Pommard was muscular and dense, almost a bit clunky. The Gevrey-Chambertin was also muscular but with higher toned fruit. The Chambolle-Musigny was silky and more elegant. The Gevrey-Chambertin 1er Cru Perrieres (about $125) was in my opinion the finest of the lineup with great depth and intensity to compliment the ripe fruit and the firm structure. The Chambolle-Musigny was, as advertised, silky and more elegant.

And last for me were the great Loire reds, and what a way to end the day. I'm talking about Breton, Baudry, Raffault, Filliatreau, Clos Roches Blanches, and Clos Rougeard. I think the 2007 Baudry Les Granges is the best Les Granges since 2004. My first time tasting the 2006 Croix Boisée and I'm not sure where I stand. It had nice fruit, but it was so tannic and muddled that I couldn't decide whether or not I would buy it for myself. I need to taste this again. I was super impressed with how well the Raffault wines showed - all of them. The 2005 Chinon Les Picasses was ripe and expressive, but restrained and elegant too, and complex with herbal and earthy flavors. And under $25. The 2002 was a bit more awkward at this stage, but also shows elegance and balance to go along with the silky fruit. The 1990 was gone, but the 1989 was smooth and well balanced, and seemed quite youthful, nothing secondary about it.

All three Clos Rougeard wines were excellent - 2004 was an under appreciated year for red wine in the Loire, I think. Le Clos, the "entry level" wine, was ripe and delicious, and all elbows and knees right now. And by the way, this wine now costs about $60. Les Poyeux used to cost $50. These wines have become too expensive for most of us, sadly, as they represent some of the finest red Cabernet Franc wine from anywhere. Les Poyeux was delicious and oddly more accessible than Le Clos, and Le Bourg was your high school friend's huge but gentle older brother, more into math than football.

An amazing tasting that showcased the work that Louis/Dressner has done over the past 20 years to bring natural wines to the US. Next year if I am invited, I don't care if Barack Obama's white house tasting is the same day, I'm spending the day with Dressner.

A Night of Loire Valley 1990's

In a way, it's silly of me to have so little understanding about the development Loire Valley wine over the long term. I have a lot of the young stuff in the cellar - shouldn't I know more about what happens to this wine in 20 years? With this in mind I decided to find a few bottles of mature wine and have a little dinner for my friend Adam before he went off to Tallahassee to wed. I wanted to find mature versions of the wines that I enjoy drinking now in their relative youth.

I found a bottle of 1990 Domaine du Viking Vouvray Tendre (JD Headrick Selections) for $34. Viking's wines surprised me when I tasted them back in April - they were balanced and distinctive, really very good. And then I grabbed a bottle of 1990 Olga Raffault Chinon Les Picasses (Louis/Dressner) for $45. I found a bottle of 1990 Luneau Papin Muscadet L' D'or for $40, but we didn't drink it on this night. Another time and another post.

We didn't have time for a long drawn out meal, so I decided to serve the Vouvray as an aperitif and then again with a cheese course. I wanted something simple as a main course that would support the aromas and flavors of the Chinon, not overpower them. I went with what the market gave me - a ragoût of shell peas, new potatoes, asparagus, spring onions, and green garlic. Kind of a ragoût, anyway. I slow cooked the vegetables in butter and white wine, and added some chopped parsley at the end. Simple. I made a confit of chicken thigh by slow cooking them in their own rendered fat and then crisping the skin. Simple.

The Vouvray was just delicious, although I must say that I might not have guessed its age if tasting blind. There was still plenty of nice ripe fruit. There were aromas of woolly funk, wax, wet graphite, and a pure grapey vinousness. An expansive and broad palate with round and smooth acids carried ripe summer fruit and honey across the tongue. The fruit was gone from the mid-palate, replaced by a sense of natural spring water and light straw - perhaps the only hint at the wine's age. We thoroughly enjoyed this wine, but I might have guessed it to be a 2002 if tasted blind. Does this mean that the wine has another 20 years ahead of it? Then again, keep in mind that I'm not terribly familiar with what good quality Chenin Blanc from a good vintage smells or tastes like when it matures.

The Chinon, well this was unmistakably a mature wine. This one went up to 11, folks. Such a beautiful and inspiring wine. The beginning was all barnyard, almost off putting. But it blew off after about 15 minutes and the graceful perfumes of fruit and flowers wafted out of the glass, filling the air around the dinner table. That's true, not just a punchy wine description - the aromas were completely vibrant and they filled the room. Luxurious red fruit, subtle roses, piercing but gentle acidity, refined black tea and road tar, rotting leaves, all of these things flirted with each other and combined to knock us out with their lusciousness on the nose. A nose like the silkiest and most elegant and sexy red bathrobe. I cannot really describe the palate because the sensation is just too new to me, but it was inspiring and beautiful, and we lingered over it, alternating between trying to discuss it and just basking in it. I must have this wine again. And I have a couple of the 2002's in the cellar, but it would seem prudent to grab a few more of those too, you know, for research.

One weird thing - the cork on the Vouvray was blackened at the end and kind of shriveled - it seemed old. But the Chinon cork was quite short, unusual for a wine meant for extended cellaring. And it seemed new. Maybe they reconditioned this wine at the estate? Is there a way to determine whether or not a wine has been reconditioned?