Keith Levenberg
Keith Levenberg
Managed to have a bit of time back in NYC this weekend. First we squeezed in a late dinner at Boulud Sud, accompanied mostly with a really stunning bottle of 2010 Stadlmann Mandel-Hoh. This remains one of my favorite restaurants in town. The food is as sophisticated and as tasty as you can get at most of the more formal, more expensive, and more starred places. And Mike does an amazing job with the list - there were dozens of bottles I would have been happy to order, with some of the best pricing being on the most interesting bottles as a friendly little wink to those who know enough to order them. You can always get a top-notch assyrtiko (which will sing with the food here) and feel like you've gotten away with something when the check comes. Glad I went with the Mandel-Hoh this time though, which was a stunner from the first sip. Kaleidoscopic aromatics. The fruit is very deep in tone, almost on the blood-orange side of citrus with a gewurz-like exoticism, super-glossy and richly saturating on the palate without being weighty. Beyond the fruit there is a smokiness to it which is almost as prominent, but it's not a a barbecue-type smokiness, nor a tobacco or cigar-type smokiness, but is, curiously, bizarrely, yet unmistakably, a very, um, *herbal* smokiness that is still illegal in most states.
1968 d'Oliveiras Bual is on the BTG list for dessert and it's a beauty too. I've had this a few times but not in awhile, and it's now more slender than I remember it, as well as drier, giving it a very silky, refined presence. Caramelized apricot and orange-peel flavors manage to be sumptuous without being all that sweet, but it is also very fresh and lively, no real "brown" flavors here. I need to be better about keeping a bottle like this around the house - the RWC Historic Series are such killer values that it's easy to be satisfied in the Madeira department without much else, but this is a clear step up in refinement compared to most of them.
Next day, Racines. What else is there to say, this place is as close as Wine Disorder will ever come to having its own Cheers. Great to meet Arnaud, and also a nice surprise to see Pascaline working the bar! We started with a Vouette & Sorbee Saignee de Sorbee, 2010 vintage I was told, since I've had the other V&S wines before but never the Saignee. This always seems to be described as some oddball, love-it-or-hate-it extreme of a wine, but I didn't see it. Yes, it's slightly more "red" and less "pink" than the norm for rosé Champagne, but it's not like you're drinking red Coteaux Champenois with bubbles or anything. Aromatics and flavors are super-fresh just-crushed raspberries. Not quite enough here yet beyond froot to make me prefer this to the Blanc d'Argile, though.
My main reason in coming here though was the 2002 Bernard Baudry Franc de Pied. We have debated here before the advisability of cellaring this wine; I believe this bottle settles the question. The oldest bottle of the FDP I've ever had - and I've had lots! - it's by far the most compelling aromatically with a big smack of mature Chinon funk, though the fruit on the palate is more primary. Racines serves their bottles at a pretty cold cellar temperature so it also started out quite structured but with a little time to warm to the room it shows off an astounding finesse. It tastes like Chinon but its mouthfeel is more like drinking Burgundy with its feminine figure and cashmere-fine tannins. For my taste I think this still has room to get better - I would love to try it again in a few years to give the flavors a chance to catch up with the aromatics. But, wow, what a treat to be able to walk into a restaurant and order a bottle like this off a list.
1968 d'Oliveiras Bual is on the BTG list for dessert and it's a beauty too. I've had this a few times but not in awhile, and it's now more slender than I remember it, as well as drier, giving it a very silky, refined presence. Caramelized apricot and orange-peel flavors manage to be sumptuous without being all that sweet, but it is also very fresh and lively, no real "brown" flavors here. I need to be better about keeping a bottle like this around the house - the RWC Historic Series are such killer values that it's easy to be satisfied in the Madeira department without much else, but this is a clear step up in refinement compared to most of them.
Next day, Racines. What else is there to say, this place is as close as Wine Disorder will ever come to having its own Cheers. Great to meet Arnaud, and also a nice surprise to see Pascaline working the bar! We started with a Vouette & Sorbee Saignee de Sorbee, 2010 vintage I was told, since I've had the other V&S wines before but never the Saignee. This always seems to be described as some oddball, love-it-or-hate-it extreme of a wine, but I didn't see it. Yes, it's slightly more "red" and less "pink" than the norm for rosé Champagne, but it's not like you're drinking red Coteaux Champenois with bubbles or anything. Aromatics and flavors are super-fresh just-crushed raspberries. Not quite enough here yet beyond froot to make me prefer this to the Blanc d'Argile, though.
My main reason in coming here though was the 2002 Bernard Baudry Franc de Pied. We have debated here before the advisability of cellaring this wine; I believe this bottle settles the question. The oldest bottle of the FDP I've ever had - and I've had lots! - it's by far the most compelling aromatically with a big smack of mature Chinon funk, though the fruit on the palate is more primary. Racines serves their bottles at a pretty cold cellar temperature so it also started out quite structured but with a little time to warm to the room it shows off an astounding finesse. It tastes like Chinon but its mouthfeel is more like drinking Burgundy with its feminine figure and cashmere-fine tannins. For my taste I think this still has room to get better - I would love to try it again in a few years to give the flavors a chance to catch up with the aromatics. But, wow, what a treat to be able to walk into a restaurant and order a bottle like this off a list.
