Wines with Dinners

Ian Fitzsimmons

Ian Fitzsimmons
2008 P. Dubreuil-Fontaine Père & Fils Pernand-Vergelesses 1er Cru Clos Berthet 6/13

Drinking very nicely now: wet wool, piercing, pleasantly rough acidity, medium bodied. Delicious. May yet improve, but no shame to open now, imho.

2011 Georges Descombes Brouilly 6/13

Tart with piercing intensity and tannins the first day; the second, served cool, a layer of sweet fruit smooths the path of the still fresh but less-tensile acidity. Impeccable table wine.

2010 Catherine et Pierre Breton Bourgueil Franc de Pied 6/13

Tart with great intensity and very fine tannins, almost Beaujolais-like in its freshness, but a leaner, wirier fruit profile. No 'green,' but a suspicion of stem, which enhanced the wine's character and interest, without detracting from the overall flavor gestalt.

1999 Domaine Guy Castagnier Charmes-Chambertin 6/13

Fresh, with zingy acidity, medium body, and fine, resolved tannins. High-pitched and fine; balanced substance, lightness, and very good intensity. I don't know that this wine would rank among distinguished GCs, but it's on a par with excellent CdN Premier Crus I've tasted.

2004 Domaine Pinson Frères Chablis 1er Cru Mont de Milieu 7/13

From magnum for the family 4th celebration. Initially soft and muted, developed favorably in a decanter over the course of a long evening, and the half-magnum improved the next evening over an hour or two, giving more and more precision and finesse until it became almost delicate, while retaining good intensity and mineral cut.

2003 R. López de Heredia Rioja Blanco Crianza Viña Gravonia Viura 7/13

Very nice intensity, lithe and agile, tiny bit of nuttiness. Pleasant on its own, bur deserves suitable food upon which to ply its acidity.

2007 Louis Jadot Pernand-Vergelesses 1er Cru En Caradeux Clos de la Croix de Pierre Blanc 8/13

Taken in doses over three days. Northern Beaune Chardonnay: ascetic, tangy, and intense, rather than rich and round; pleasant Pernand tang. A curious high note, almost sweet - perhaps a sign of new oak? Still marching well on the third day. Recently replanted vineyard, I read.

2010 Domaine Tortochot Gevrey-Chambertin 1er Cru Lavaux St. Jacques 8/13

Opened young for learning purposes. Deep ruby; aromas initially moderate, faintly pinot-like; flavors dominated by firm tannins, which form a wall between the drinker and whatever fruit may be lurking in the liquid. With a couple hours' decant, the tannins soften slightly and very ample acidity takes over, with fruit still relegated to deep background.

Decanted the second half - previously sealed in a clean 375 - about six hours before drinking: tannins and acid had eased into harmony. Fruit flavors were still hidden, but the wine now showed goodish balance and attractive clarity.

NV Fourny Brut Nature 1er Cru blanc de blanc 9/13

Opened dirt dry, with a hint of chalk and intense acidity. Chardonnay fruit crept into the profile the longer it was open, and the chalkiness increased, while the acidity never wavered. The chalky-acid combination reminded me of Belliviere's Jasnieres Rosier and Leroy's Anjou Rouliers, though the fruit here is unmistakably Chardonnay, and the fizz added to textural and flavor complexity. We drink little Champagne, but I liked this bottle a great deal.

2011 Villemade Cheverny

I have a small crush on this wine. Such nice matrix of tannin, fruit, herb, spice. Fresh, charming, sincere, not too demanding, but goes straight for the heart. Decant half an hour to dispel its stoney gustatory carapace.
 
originally posted by Ian Fitzsimmons:
2011 Villemade Cheverny

I have a small crush on this wine. Such nice matrix of tannin, fruit, herb, spice.

By spice do you meant brett? Or something else?

I've had some good wines from Villemade, but too many were too funky so I stopped trying.
 
Not brett, spice: there's a slight exotic spiciness in the mix, to my sensibilities. I've never been good with flavor descriptors and can't think of how to say it better.

We've opened four or five bottles of the 2011 with nary a flaw.
 
I've had second thoughts since replying to Rahsaan: describing the wine, I wanted to write there was a touch of garrigue, but it seemed too out of place to say so, considering the geography. If garrigue flavors in S. Rhone wines are associated with low levels of brett, then there may be some present in the Villemade, as well, though just enough - in my case - to add to the wine's flavor profile.
 
I've never thought of garrigue as associated with brett except to the extent that lots of Southern Rhone wines have both. Garrigue is that mixed scent of thyme, lavendar, rosemary, etc. that is in the air there. If that is a symptom of brett,then I'm wrong, but I'd never heard that.
 
originally posted by Jonathan Loesberg:
I've never thought of garrigue as associated with brett except to the extent that lots of Southern Rhone wines have both. Garrigue is that mixed scent of thyme, lavendar, rosemary, etc. that is in the air there. If that is a symptom of brett,then I'm wrong, but I'd never heard that.

Oh, that's what garrigue means? I always just said lavender. Good to know.
 
Jay,
The original meaning of garrigue is the chaparral growing wild on the limestone soils along the Mediterranean coast of S France. On a hot Summer day, the air is quite strongly scented with garrigue in that region. Lavender and thyme are the only components of that smell that I can recognize, but it's a good deal more complex. I grew up with the similar smells of the N California chaparral, but there it's more dominated by sage. I often wonder how many of the myriad winegeeks who use the term have any concrete notion of what it actually smells like.

Mark Lipton
 
I think Kermit's mailers back in the day often said "garrigue" when what I tasted was brett. I think it is a well-understood euphemism. In American wine circles, garrigue often spoke in the accent of Mr. Ed. "Willllburrr."

Of course, it is also the local aromatic flora and influences flavors and notions of flavors, but in the Southern Rhone the term will require reappropriation.
 
originally posted by MLipton:
Jay,
I often wonder how many of the myriad winegeeks who use the term have any concrete notion of what it actually smells like.

this.

(i get pine and eucalyptus in teh garrigue of n cal too, tho i guess it depends on where and what one intends. damned evocative it is, too.)

fb.
 
Being from Northern California and having never been to the southern rhone, my experience has always been in line with what Mark describes. Plenty of CDRs smell quite a bit like the east bay foothills
 
originally posted by John Ritchie:
Being from Northern California and having never been to the southern rhone, my experience has always been in line with what Mark describes. Plenty of CDRs smell quite a bit like the east bay foothills

Being an East Bay product myself, I'd qualify that by saying that you'd have to avoid the eucalyptus to get a true smell of the brush that I associate with garrigue. To me, it's more prevalent in the higher portions of Point Reyes, where scrub oak is the only thing that grows taller than 4' and where you'll find plenty of wild rosemary and various sage-y things. On those rare occasions when the sun is baking down on that landscape, you just have to take a deep breath to get it.

Mark Lipton
 
I don't know what chaparral denotes in terms of vegetation. Garrigue translates more or less as scrub. And the scrubs in Provence that scent the air are the herbs we've been talking about. Really, just go there on a summer day and take a deep breath. You won't mistake it for brett any longer. If it's come to mean "brett" in American winegeek jargon, that would be a loss of a useful descriptive term.
 
originally posted by Jonathan Loesberg:
I don't know what chaparral denotes in terms of vegetation. Garrigue translates more or less as scrub. And the scrubs in Provence that scent the air are the herbs we've been talking about. Really, just go there on a summer day and take a deep breath. You won't mistake it for brett any longer. If it's come to mean "brett" in American winegeek jargon, that would be a loss of a useful descriptive term.

I know from terpenes, rest assured.

I think it was a way of making excuses, the way that Beaucastel was supposed to smell that way because of all the mourvedre.

"It's a feature, not a bug, dontcha know."
 
originally posted by MLipton:
Jay,
The original meaning of garrigue is the chaparral growing wild on the limestone soils along the Mediterranean coast of S France. On a hot Summer day, the air is quite strongly scented with garrigue in that region. Lavender and thyme are the only components of that smell that I can recognize, but it's a good deal more complex. I grew up with the similar smells of the N California chaparral, but there it's more dominated by sage. I often wonder how many of the myriad winegeeks who use the term have any concrete notion of what it actually smells like.

Mark Lipton

I assume that the aroma and flavor of garrigue come from plant oils that drift onto the grapes, as is presumably true of eucalyptus in some CA Cabernets.
 
originally posted by Oliver McCrum:

I assume that the aroma and flavor of garrigue come from plant oils that drift onto the grapes, as is presumably true of eucalyptus in some CA Cabernets.

Becoming a taste of the past? Have you noticed that because of (1) wind and fire danger, and (2) native plant movements, eucalyptus trees out here are much less common than they used to be?
 
Claude,

I wouldn't mind at all if eucalyptus flavor went away, it tends to take over IMO. I mention it only because it would seem that the principle is the same.
 
I'm just confused. Nothing new in that.

originally posted by Jonathan Loesberg:
[...] Garrigue is that mixed scent of thyme, lavendar, rosemary, etc. that is in the air there [...]

This is the combo I was thinking of: lavender plus the savory herbs. In the Villemade, nicely balanced with acidity. Steals your face.
 
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