Sharon Bowman
Sharon Bowman
Two very different wines tonight with my younger friend, N., whose birth year is 1985.
1985 López de Heredia Tondonia Gran Reserva was light on its toes. It is still my best memory of a wine discovery; the first Rioja I ever had, in early 2009. A shock of a wine for its lacy beauty. I've had it a small handful of times since (small hands), and it has always been lithe. This was no exception. It leaves so quickly; where does it go?
And then we ordered 2010 François Cotat Rosé; there was no more, so:
2009 François Cotat Chavignol Rosé - fairly amusing that the later vintage (as well as 2011 of same) should be exhausted but not this. This wine was alcooleux! Dark as a Pascal Cotat Rosé and heavy with scents but also the burn.
However, after about an hour open, it thinned out and became lovely. (Within reason.)
Which reminded me that I should have had it dumped straight into a decanter upon opening.
N. raised the issue of whether it was just that we were tipsy now and more accepting, or whether it had changed. I opined the latter while admitting we should take caution for the former. We gave the bartender another pour for impartiality's sake (and because he was a nice fellow from Canada who liked to try out his rusty French), and he agreed. It needed air.
Well, next time.
Oh, more on the locale: it gets LOUD, and people tend to lean on your shoulder as you sit calmly at the bar.
1985 López de Heredia Tondonia Gran Reserva was light on its toes. It is still my best memory of a wine discovery; the first Rioja I ever had, in early 2009. A shock of a wine for its lacy beauty. I've had it a small handful of times since (small hands), and it has always been lithe. This was no exception. It leaves so quickly; where does it go?
And then we ordered 2010 François Cotat Rosé; there was no more, so:
2009 François Cotat Chavignol Rosé - fairly amusing that the later vintage (as well as 2011 of same) should be exhausted but not this. This wine was alcooleux! Dark as a Pascal Cotat Rosé and heavy with scents but also the burn.
However, after about an hour open, it thinned out and became lovely. (Within reason.)
Which reminded me that I should have had it dumped straight into a decanter upon opening.
N. raised the issue of whether it was just that we were tipsy now and more accepting, or whether it had changed. I opined the latter while admitting we should take caution for the former. We gave the bartender another pour for impartiality's sake (and because he was a nice fellow from Canada who liked to try out his rusty French), and he agreed. It needed air.
Well, next time.
Oh, more on the locale: it gets LOUD, and people tend to lean on your shoulder as you sit calmly at the bar.