Paste

Thor

Thor Iverson
Donaldson Family Pegasus Bay 2006 Riesling (Waipara Valley) Vivacious and exciting. Lime, green apple, very ripe lemon, perhaps some other bright and sunny fruitpresented in crystal-clear digital sound. It hasnt developed any analog richness yet, but its young. Quite long, with a steel spine driven straight through the center of the wine. The balance of acidity and sweetness is flawless. Very impressive. (1/09)

A Donkey and Goat 2006 Tamarindo Roussanne (El Dorado) For about five minutes after opening, toasted fruit aromatics rush from the glass, heralding a weighty but not overblown palate. And then, as that initial burst of uncorked goodness diffuses, it goes immediately and completely to helloverwhelmed with volatile acidity, for starters, and bringing up some nasty, decaying animal scents from the cellar. (Smells like a cow vomited and then died on top of it, opines one drinking companion.) Really terrible, and an absolutely horrendous value. (1/09)

Pinon 2006 Vouvray Cuve Tradition (Loire) Shy to the point of invisibility. Only the barest suggestion of waxy whiteness is perceptible, with a very light patina of sweetness. Either drink it in a sensory deprivation chamber, or give it the time it deserves. (1/09)

Ollivier Domaine de la Ppire 2006 Muscadet Svre et Maine Sur Lie (Loire) Drier, in some ways, than the starkest Trimbach or Beyer riesling, yet the core of this wine is friendlier and more appealinga gently-lapping shell-covered seashore rather than a rigid column of iron. And its crisp without being severe. Deployed to accompany a scallop ceviche, it sings through the gaps and spaces, rather than cooperating in a duet of equals, and I think is even better for it. (1/09)

Arabako Txakolina 2007 Txakoli de lava Txakoli Xarmant (Northwest Spain) Filled with the spike and needle of bubbles, quite acidic, and elusive in its bare-bone, eroded-sand fashion. I love the tactility, but the wine within is a little too absent for me. (1/09)

FX Pichler 2005 Grner Veltliner Loibner Klostersatz Federspiel (Wachau) Explodes out of the glass, but I dont know that theres as much shrapnel in the blast as Id like. Its certainly quite aromatic, drifting into unusual realms of quince and Rainier cherry, and then returning to the familiar homeland of liquefied celery and heady minerality. Its presence on the palate is weighty and impressive. And yet, and yetit decrescendos on the finish, tailing off to an acidic void. Oh well. (1/09)

Pichot Domaine Le Peu de la Moriette 1997 Vouvray (Loire) Not bad for thirty-year-old Vouvray. Wait, whats that? OKwell, its advanced, then, with significant bronzing and a concentrated maser of brittle lemon in the middle, nice sweetness, and a fine dusting of chalk. It never really rises to any sort of complexity, but its good enough, if a bit ponderous by the dregs. Probable culprit: the cork is rigid, and wet from bottom to top. (1/09)

COS 2007 Ram (Sicily) A blend of insolia and grecanico. An exotic nose of je ne sais quoi. Really, I have absolutely no idea what to call these aromas. Theyre lovely, though. The palate is wet and clean, but not up to the promise of the nose, and with aeration (an hour or so) the wine gets a little bit ponderous. It does seem to need a bit more chill than the weight might otherwise indicate. (1/09)
 
originally posted by Otto Nieminen:
originally posted by Thor:
Paste
Arabako Txakolina 2007 Txakoli de lava Txakoli Xarmant

I though Arabako Txakolina was Euskara for Chacoli de lava? So who is the producer?

From the importer's page: Arabaki Txakolina is both the name of the producer and the DO.

Mark Lipton
 
originally posted by robert ames:
what are the maths used to arrive at 30 years of age for a wine from 1997? did you mean 1977?

I'm not Thor but I believe that's part of the joke/humor.

The wine tastes as if it were from 1977 but actually it is from 1997.
 
originally posted by robert ames:
what are the maths used to arrive at 30 years of age for a wine from 1997? did you mean 1977?

I'm not Thor, and I don't presume to speak for him, but I believe what he was doing there was making a humorous attempt to suggest the wine was prematurely advanced for its age. By starting off with the statement "Not bad for thirty-year-old Vouvray" after clearly saying in his header that it's a 1997, he sets up an immediate internal contradiction in the mind of the reader. "Wait, did he make a mistake, or did I misread?" we think. What he does next bears watching: he says "Wait, what's that?" as though he were having a conversation with an invisible partner, or perhaps even the reader him/herself. In this whimsical conversation what's apparently going on is that he, Thor, is being informed by the aforementioned invisible partner (or perhaps the reader him/herself) as to the actual age of the wine, which he has originally assumed to be far older than it is because of its dark color and advanced condition. Being thus informed, he then responds with a surprised "OKwell, its advanced, then," as a way to restore harmony and clarity and let us know that we're all back on the same page.

Funny!
 
?

Any idea?

Sleepwalking?

Something found underfoot in a jungle?

Or in the maquis?

Yes. And no.

Sharon and Rahsaan: thanks for trying, but only Chris managed to explain the wordplay in a long-winded enough way to be useful to the reader while maintaining an exciting state of hilarity. You're just going to have to try harder in the future.

Claude: inspired by Chris, I need to explain that the title of the post -- "Paste" -- was intended as a reference to the second wine noted, the roussanne from A Donkey and Goat. You'll note that the wine carries the fanciful and fun name of "Tamarindo." Now, in markets where fresh tamarind is not always available, a useful substitute for that ingredient is a little container of tamarind paste. Oh sure, it's not the same as the real thing, but we all must make accomodations from time to time in an effort to expand our culinary horizons. But I do absolutely see and understand your assumption that the title might easily have been the Italian plural for "pasta," which would have been most amusing indeed...though perhaps not if the post that followed was actually about different types of pasta. In fact, I don't think that would have been amusing at all.
 
But I do absolutely see and understand your assumption that the title might easily have been the Italian plural for "pasta," which would have been most amusing indeed...though perhaps not if the post that followed was actually about different types of pasta. In fact, I don't think that would have been amusing at all.

It could have been, if explained very carefully and at great length.
 
You're right, and I apologize for my lack of faith in the power and humorous potential of lengthy post-hoc exposition. I'll never doubt again.
 
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