Oswaldo Costa
Oswaldo Costa
2009 Michel Gros Vosne-Romanée 1er Cru Aux Brûlées 13.0%
Michel Gros, I must confess, is not a producer I revere. Not so much due to mixed results an age ago but because of his unrepentant use of a must concentrator. While I no longer hold Taliban views on chaptalization -- after all, tens of milllions of people around the world chaptalize their coffee or tea every morning -- I continue to prefer mine unsweetened. Wine too. But if you must interfere with your must, I far prefer sugar, which at least has the virtue of prolonging fermentation and possibly adding complexity, assuming the grapes have some to give. A machine to extract? Yuck. Talk of jumping from pan to fire.
So, how come a tasting note on a Gros? The lone bottle came as part of an auction lot of otherwise desirable stuff, so I found myself hastening to exclude it from inventory. But, I have to say, secretly hoping I would fall on my butt and be proved wrong by, once again, a dastardly display of “wine is so complex that you can never know what you’re gonna get.”
Alas, no such luck. Surprisingly closed (perhaps SO2 not yet fully absorbed), showing a smidgen of sour cherry and licorice (sour is not a smell, of course, but sour cherry is a smell I tend to associate with sour cherries). The palate was somewhat bitter, as if resentful of past malfeasance, and the sweetness had a molasses undertow, as if, who knows, it had been concentrated in some baptismal rite. Even in a year like 2009, when such tampering, if it did happen, was most likely unnecessary. To top it off, a touch of alcohol heat. In its defense, the Zalto Burg is even less forgiving than me. Also in its defense, who knows what the storage history was; I would not rule out a touch of central heating, so take these impressions with a grain of tartaric.
Michel Gros, I must confess, is not a producer I revere. Not so much due to mixed results an age ago but because of his unrepentant use of a must concentrator. While I no longer hold Taliban views on chaptalization -- after all, tens of milllions of people around the world chaptalize their coffee or tea every morning -- I continue to prefer mine unsweetened. Wine too. But if you must interfere with your must, I far prefer sugar, which at least has the virtue of prolonging fermentation and possibly adding complexity, assuming the grapes have some to give. A machine to extract? Yuck. Talk of jumping from pan to fire.
So, how come a tasting note on a Gros? The lone bottle came as part of an auction lot of otherwise desirable stuff, so I found myself hastening to exclude it from inventory. But, I have to say, secretly hoping I would fall on my butt and be proved wrong by, once again, a dastardly display of “wine is so complex that you can never know what you’re gonna get.”
Alas, no such luck. Surprisingly closed (perhaps SO2 not yet fully absorbed), showing a smidgen of sour cherry and licorice (sour is not a smell, of course, but sour cherry is a smell I tend to associate with sour cherries). The palate was somewhat bitter, as if resentful of past malfeasance, and the sweetness had a molasses undertow, as if, who knows, it had been concentrated in some baptismal rite. Even in a year like 2009, when such tampering, if it did happen, was most likely unnecessary. To top it off, a touch of alcohol heat. In its defense, the Zalto Burg is even less forgiving than me. Also in its defense, who knows what the storage history was; I would not rule out a touch of central heating, so take these impressions with a grain of tartaric.
