TN: Diinner at Dino's (3/8/17)

MLipton

Mark Lipton
Taking a break from doing my civic duty of reviewing 70 pre- and post-doctoral fellowship proposals for the NIH in Bethesda, I took the Metro into DC proper for an evening of jollity with the gathered DC Disorderlies (those that could make it, natch). The evening got off to a rocky start when my hotel couldn't produce a wine opener in a timely fashion, thus preventing me from double-decanting my Barolo prior to taking it on the train. Adding insult to injury, I ended up getting spattered by a hurled cup of Starbucks coffee while en route on the Red Line, though it should be noted that the guy standing next to me got the worst of it by far. My pre-jeeb ordeal concluded when I discovered that the Yellow Line was truncated and wouldn't get me to my desired station, resulting in a final jaunt in a cab in the rain to get myself to my destination.

Shaken and late, but otherwise basically unfazed, I entered Dino's Grotto to find Michael Lewis, Jonathan Loesberg and his wife Gail already assembled at the table and a daunting assembly of wines set before us. With four people and six opened bottles on the table, I was persuaded to open only one of my contributions. After some discussion, we settled on going red and ordered our food accordingly. While these delicate negotiations proceeded, we sipped Michael's contribution of 1992 Peter Lauer Saar Riesling Sekt Reserve which was lightly toasty but crisp, fresh, citrusy and dry on the palate and a total delight. The sense of freshness to the wine was its most memorable quality, especially in light of its age. At this point, none other than Ian Fitzsimmons appears on the scene, having dragged himself out of his sickbed and driven into the city from his Virginia digs. Again, negotiations ensue about which wine from the half-case he brought he should open.

As a group we ordered a quartet of starters for sharing (Ian stuck to soup). My papardelle with black trumpet mushrooms was delicious, but Michael's wild boar papardelle eclipsed my dish in its sheer yumminess. Gail's carbonara was also most tasty, as were Jonathan's Brussel sprouts. With this tasty assortment of dishes, we sipped upon the reds, starting -- at Jonathan's insistence -- with his contribution of 1995 Chateau Pontet-Canet, a wonderfully nostalgic claret with a nose of pencil lead and dark fruit and a finely balanced, mid-weight palate of tobacco and plum. This wine is still youthful, showing little tertiary character, but a delight to drink as we rhapsodized about our claret-drinking days of years gone by. Also sampled at this time was Michael's other contribution, 2007 Simon Bize Savigny-les-Beaune 1er Cru Les Fournaux, which was silky and totally open for business. Red fruited with a delightful undercurrent of earth, it seemed completely ready to me (unlike my '07 CdB SLBs which are still hard as rocks).

By this time, our main courses had arrived. Jonathan, Gail and I had all opted for the veal and were rewarded with a deliciously sauced veal joint accompanied by some very salty kale leaves. Michael instead got the lamb, about which I can say little except that it looked nice. I also beat away the server, refusing to yield my plate of pastas, so we dug in. The next wine up was my contribution of 2001 Oddero Barolo Vigna Ronda which, despite my lack of double-decanting earlier, turned out quite well with a nose of pencil lead and leather, with some medicinal character and a smooth palate impression (though with ample acidity). As good as it was with our main courses, it was even finer with the wild boar and mushroom pastas. The final red on the table was the beautiful 1999 Domaine Mourre du Tendre Chateauneuf-du-Pape. Showing all signs of its vintage, it was beautifully balanced with typically meaty-cherryish Grenache fruit with enough structure to keep it totally food-friendly. Rustic in a good way, it was less Bretty than many of my preferred CdPs, but a total joy to drink.

We finished the evening with Ian's contribution, the 1996 JJ Prüm Wehlener Sonnenuhr Auslese. This was offered up as dessert, but belied Ian's intentions by having sufficient acidity to be nearly dry in perceived sweetness. Regardless, we drank it without any objection. There was some botrytis evident in the intense nose of apricot and bergamot and on the palate it was racy and citrusy with plenty of stone fruit character on top it.

Over the course of the evening, the conversation flowed almost as much as the wine and food. Remarkably, I felt that every wine that evening showed beautifully and provided great contrasts with the others. Thanks to everyone for coming out on a rainy evening to amuse a wayward scientist and to Dino's Grotto as well for a wonderful evening of food and wine.

Your intrepid reporter,
Mark Lipton
 
Nice. I suppose the early mishaps helped calibrate the karma so all the wines would show so well.

I was also intrigued to read that you brought a 2001 Barolo. Obviously you have no worries about flying with wine and then opening it the same/next day? Usually I shy away from doing that, perhaps out of excess caution. But you are very inspiring!
 
Beautiful descriptions, Mark. They make for a wonderful vicarious passage through the experience, and the wines appear so skillfully chosen.

originally posted by Rahsaan:
Obviously you have no worries about flying with wine and then opening it the same/next day? Usually I shy away from doing that, perhaps out of excess caution. But you are very inspiring!

I have been very curious about this as well. I am forced to "travel shock" bottles when I make promotional trips for Schramm's. On a yet-to-be-determined domestic air excursion, I'll take one for the team in the interest of gathering at least a single data point: I will pull a bottle from a given case, travel there and back again with it, and then side-by-side or triangle taste it against a bottle that stayed home. The impact on wines or meads when I have flown with them has never seemed as dramatic as has been decried by some, and I am curious to know if that impression was accurate, or simply wishful thinking.
 
originally posted by Rahsaan:
Nice. I suppose the early mishaps helped calibrate the karma so all the wines would show so well.

I was also intrigued to read that you brought a 2001 Barolo. Obviously you have no worries about flying with wine and then opening it the same/next day? Usually I shy away from doing that, perhaps out of excess caution. But you are very inspiring!

I wouldn't say that I had no worries, Rahsaan. I had let the bottle sit upright in the hotel room for 24 hours after arrival, which I felt would have been sufficient to allow the sediment to settle. As for the larger issue of how long a bottle may take to recover from "travel shock," I don't see that the age of the bottle would make much difference... but since I don't understand the origin of the phenomenon, perhaps it's a variable that I simply don't recognize. Much more of a concern for me was the ride on the Red line: I was cradling the bottle (in a styrofoam shipper) like a newborn, trying to reduce vibrations as much as possible, moreso for having been unable to double-decant ahead of the event.

Mark Lipton
 
Reminds me of a time I was running late to a wine dinner and ran up a long flight of subway stairs with champagne. Quite a surprise to the person who opened it a little bit later at the restaurant.
 
Good stuff, Mark. You guys weren't messing around.

All the talk about travel shock puts a spotlight on your tasting note. Aside from leather, it's curiously devoid of any of the other common Barolo aromatics. Wondering if your note is highlighting the dominant aromatics of that particular bottle or if the perfume was muted?
 
Was fortunate enough to drink a '73 Oddero Barolo recently and the wine needed days of air to really blossom. Mark's note sounds similar to what we found in the '73 but with the patina of age and more tar. And just to confuse the issue further, only on day 3, in the very last glass which was full of sediment, did I find any roses and earth.

Is it possible we should be shaking up these old bottles instead of decanting?
 
originally posted by MLipton...the larger issue of how long a bottle may take to recover from "travel shock," I don't see that the age of the bottle would make much difference...

I certainly don't have any firm scientific evidence/knowledge on this issue. But my impression was always that older wines were more 'delicate' and therefore the most vulnerable to shaking/disruption of the molecules.

I am not sure what to think about young wines. In some respects they should be the 'simplest' and therefore most resilient in displaying their basic fruit charms. But, they are also the least formed, and therefore perhaps also vulnerable to whatever form they have being distorted.

'Middle aged' wines like your 01 Oddero seem like the best candidates for such travel missions. Because they still have some of the 'resilient' young structure but they have also matured into a comfortable well-formed groove.

Although this is Barolo and 'middle aged' is relative and the Barolo-ness adds other concerns.

Plus, none of these concepts are very rigid or measurable, and are probably not even valid!

But, those have been my impressionistic thoughts. (And relevant because I am thinking about what to do for a similar upcoming trip of my own)
 
originally posted by Kay Bixler:
Was fortunate enough to drink a '73 Oddero Barolo recently and the wine needed days of air to really blossom. Mark's note sounds similar to what we found in the '73 but with the patina of age and more tar. And just to confuse the issue further, only on day 3, in the very last glass which was full of sediment, did I find any roses and earth.

Is it possible we should be shaking up these old bottles instead of decanting?

Now we're into multiple days of decanting on these wines! The window of 6-18 hours was already maddening enough!

I guess the only solution is to keep opening older Barolo every 6-12 hours, that way you can be consistently guaranteed of having a bottle rounding into some sort of form.

Speaking of which, I'm opening 96 Produttori Normale tomorrow. I was going to go with a double decant maybe 4-6 hours ahead of dinner. Should I re-think and open it yesterday?!
 
On the old Prodigy board, there was an elderly bonafide Burgundy expert who regularly maintained that the bottle should be stirred around before opening so that the lower contents of the bottle can commingle with the upper portion; otherwise, he maintained, you effectively get two different wines from the lower and upper portions.

He was such a respectable/gentlemanly/knowledgeable/likable wine expert his thesis was not, as I recall, debated publicly much (if any).

. . . . Pete
 
originally posted by MLipton:
[...] At this point, none other than Ian Fitzsimmons appears on the scene, having dragged himself out of his sickbed and driven into the city from his Virginia digs [...]

Mark Lipton

I hope I didn't look quite so bedraggled as all that! Anyway, Maureen must be patting herself on the back for the good judgement she exhibited by avoiding any risk of contagion.

It was good to meet you after lo! these many years; always a pleasure to dine with Jonathan and Gail; and an unexpected bonus to make Michael's acquaintance. The nice thing about a group of this size - everyone was included in whatever conversation was going on. I think it was M.F.K. Fisher who said six is the perfect number for a dinner party.

Good wines and good company - the best seasonings.
 
"1995 Chateau Pontet-Canet, a wonderfully nostalgic claret with a nose of pencil lead and dark fruit and a finely balanced, mid-weight palate of tobacco and plum. This wine is still youthful, showing little tertiary character, but a delight to drink as we rhapsodized about our claret-drinking days of years gone by.

Those were the days. That '95 and the '96 that followed have always been favorites around here. If I want to see Lisa's eyes light up at Christmas or Thanksgiving I'll dust off a bottle of one or the other. Great balance, contemplative wine.
 
originally posted by Chris Coad:
"1995 Chateau Pontet-Canet, a wonderfully nostalgic claret with a nose of pencil lead and dark fruit and a finely balanced, mid-weight palate of tobacco and plum. This wine is still youthful, showing little tertiary character, but a delight to drink as we rhapsodized about our claret-drinking days of years gone by.

Those were the days. That '95 and the '96 that followed have always been favorites around here. If I want to see Lisa's eyes light up at Christmas or Thanksgiving I'll dust off a bottle of one or the other. Great balance, contemplative wine.

I recently sold my remaining bottles. They had gone spoofy with the '94 (though I hear they've come back) and I found the '94-'96 Trio soulless.
 
Sorry to be late to respond. I've been in transit, including a stopover in Paris for a dinner with Marie-Sabine and some other ex members of the TGJP. Sans PAB, no notes are forthcoming. The Chou farcie was wonderful, though.

I have nothing to add to Mark' s notes. Brad has the timeline of Pontet Canet exactly backwards. Spoof started seriously in the late 90s and the curve has only gotten steeper to judge from the ever more breathless swoons of Jeff Leve over the wines.
 
originally posted by Jonathan Loesberg:
Brad has the timeline of Pontet Canet exactly backwards. Spoof started seriously in the late 90s and the curve has only gotten steeper to judge from the ever more breathless swoons of Jeff Leve over the wines.

You are incorrect, Jonathan. Alfred Tesseron's first vintage was the 1994 and the big scores from Parker, which the estate had never had, started with the '94 vintage. I quote from Parker with the '94, "Readers should take note that the Tesseron family is making major efforts to rebuild the image of Pontet-Canet and establish it as one of the finest wines of the northern Medoc. Quality has soared since the 1994 vintage..." On release Parker had it within the top 15-20 wines of the vintage. That came out of nowhere.

The estate started to experiment with Biodynamique farming in 2004 and were certified organic and biodynamique in 2010.
 
This is silliness. Yes, Parker gave nice reviews to the wine in 94 and 95, but the reviews got more and more fever pitched
later. Tasting notes like plush, silky, sexy and toasty abound in the aughts. Not liking 94 and 95 is fine with me, but not knowing the wine's ever upward trajectory of spoof is silly. As for biodynamie, you know as well as I do that planting a goat's horn full of goatshit in a vineyard and dancing around it when the moon is full doesn't disallow every godforsaken process you can think of in the cellar, not to mention overripening in the vineyard and r.v.-ing or watering back to bring alcohol down to 15% and make sure all the tannins are slush--or polished if you prefers.
 
Jonathan, can you ever admit you're wrong? Factually, the dramatic change to a spoofier style started at the domaine with the '94 vintage. Did they get even spoofier? Yes, but some of that also has to do with riper vintages. Your stating I was incorrect about the time line is simply wrong.

Btw, he also gave high marks to the '96. Neal Martin downgraded it.
 
originally posted by Jonathan Loesberg:
This is silliness. Yes, Parker gave nice reviews to the wine in 94 and 95, but the reviews got more and more fever pitched
later. Tasting notes like plush, silky, sexy and toasty abound in the aughts. Not liking 94 and 95 is fine with me, but not knowing the wine's ever upward trajectory of spoof is silly. As for biodynamie, you know as well as I do that planting a goat's horn full of goatshit in a vineyard and dancing around it when the moon is full doesn't disallow every godforsaken process you can think of in the cellar, not to mention overripening in the vineyard and r.v.-ing or watering back to bring alcohol down to 15% and make sure all the tannins are slush--or polished if you prefers.

Leaving the spoof timeline aside, everything you have said about BD farming and allowed cellar practices under International Demeter standards is completely wrong. Every "godforsaken process" is not allowed. Harvesting overripe fruit is definitely not a viticultural or cellar practice, though I doubt it is prohibited.
 
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