Oswaldo Costa
Oswaldo Costa
2000 Pierre Overnoy Arbois Pupillin 12.5%
Notwithstanding fresh reports from JoeDo that this has gone muslim and is wearing a chador, I wanted to taste JoeD's desert island wine.
Gold veering on orange. Nose is voile up the wahzoo. Were it not for several factors - Jura, savagnin, the impeccable cork, JoeDo's forewarning - I would have sworn this was premoxed. At a restaurant, I would have returned it. The sommelier would have accused me of being an idiot, and I would have replied that he was an asshole. Call me an idiot savagnin.
Anyway, knowing that the problem was me, I soldiered on. Aromas are Calissons d'Aix, flavors are citrusy, with floating yeast, model airplane glue and caramel syrup. Good mouth weight, attractive shy-of-ripe fruit beneath the almondine. Despite the mind's resistance, the body went with it and Marcia and I had no difficulty finishing the bottle. At the end, once adjusted to the new biosphere, it was pleasurable. Like what it must be like for a body to dance ballet with the gravity of the international space station. God grant me the wisdom to know the difference between the oxen and the premoxen.
I understood why this would be the perfect desert island wine. As ballast in the holds of galleons, it won't spoil during the journey, and will fare well in tropical climes without undersand cellars or electric wine coolers.
Notwithstanding fresh reports from JoeDo that this has gone muslim and is wearing a chador, I wanted to taste JoeD's desert island wine.
Gold veering on orange. Nose is voile up the wahzoo. Were it not for several factors - Jura, savagnin, the impeccable cork, JoeDo's forewarning - I would have sworn this was premoxed. At a restaurant, I would have returned it. The sommelier would have accused me of being an idiot, and I would have replied that he was an asshole. Call me an idiot savagnin.
Anyway, knowing that the problem was me, I soldiered on. Aromas are Calissons d'Aix, flavors are citrusy, with floating yeast, model airplane glue and caramel syrup. Good mouth weight, attractive shy-of-ripe fruit beneath the almondine. Despite the mind's resistance, the body went with it and Marcia and I had no difficulty finishing the bottle. At the end, once adjusted to the new biosphere, it was pleasurable. Like what it must be like for a body to dance ballet with the gravity of the international space station. God grant me the wisdom to know the difference between the oxen and the premoxen.
I understood why this would be the perfect desert island wine. As ballast in the holds of galleons, it won't spoil during the journey, and will fare well in tropical climes without undersand cellars or electric wine coolers.