Knowing as I do how we all love those heart-wrenching tales of falls from grace and recovery (or not) therefrom, I post this note. After having been admonished by Jean recently that I've been opening too many "weird whites" (by which she meant Riesling, Chenin and Muscadet -- go figger!) I was faced with what to open with a beautiful chunk of fresh, wild-caught sockeye that I'd just grilled and came up with one of the very few Chardonnays in our possession. The bottle of 2008 Joseph Drouhin St. Veran, once its funky metal closure had been removed, greeted us with a noseful of burnt matchstick sulfur. Jean, who's more sensitive to sulfur than I, immediately proclaimed it "awful" and retreated to a bottle of NZ Sauvignon that we keep on hand for moments like this. Curiously, we'd already had a few bottles of this wine with no such reaction, but this time the sulfur was overpowering and quite off-putting. I resealed the bottle and stuck it in the fridge to see what effect time would have on it. A day later I opened the bottle back up, et voil, a beautiful Chardonnay-based wine greeted me, all lemons and stones with just a hint of oak. Even Jean, still skeptical, agreed that the wine in its present form appealed to her.
So, there you have it: the typical narrative arc of despair followed by redemption and elation.
Mark Lipton
So, there you have it: the typical narrative arc of despair followed by redemption and elation.
Mark Lipton