When was the defining moment when I considered myself a wine enthusiast?
Clearly, there have been painful lessons along the way.
Like the time I slapped a 20-dollar bill on the bar at Boston's Copley Hotel, ordering two glasses of Byron Chardonnay and being told, "unfortunately, sir, that's not enough."
So when I ordered a glass of Ponzi Pinot Noir at San Francisco's Asia SF for $15, I didn't flinch. I had learned.
With a refined nose and improved palate, I recognized mistakes. Like the time at Mache Bistro in Bar Harbor the waitress served our bottle of Domaine Jeandeau Pouilly-Fuisse warm. I sent it back and was actually given an attitude. But it came back chilled. Sort of. I won't ever return.
Then there was the cold, winter night at Mittersill, a quaint hotel in New Hampshire's Franconia Notch, when I ordered a glass of Chardonnay that was so sweet it was like drinking molasses out of a jelly jar. Not sure what it was, but I avoided Chardonnay by the glass for a few years.
My sense of taste was not always this good. Like any kid growing up in the '70s, I drank my share of Boone's Farm. And in the '80s, peach wine coolers were kind of neat on the beach.
So was there a defining moment when education turned to passion?
It could have been the bottle of Santa Margherita Pinot Grigio my wife and I shared at this little off-the-beaten-path Italian restaurant on the water in Fort Lauderdale on a steamy spring night. Or the Chimney Rock Cabernet Sauvignon my mother-in-law opened during the holidays.
The Opus One my neighbors shared is high on the list, as is the bottle of Caymus I finally opened.
I've been proud of the vertical (1997-2002) of Leasingham Bin 61 Shirazes I have lying on their side in my basement, and it took a lot of nerve to finally crack open the '97. Yum.
I've had wine tastings at the house - summer samplings of Viognier, Pinot Noir and Petite Sirah, not to mention the Italy theme night with some fellow wine enthusiasts. Turns out the '83 Chianti we opened was a gift from Red Sox right fielder Trot Nixon.
The tastings in Napa, Seneca Lake and the North Fork help finesse the palate and the wine beat goes on.
When was the defining moment when I considered myself a wine enthusiast?
I guess all of the above.
This is fun to think about, Dan – thanks for the memories… Here is my abridged version:
In the late Seventies, I was home from college and my high-school band had reunited to play the Bryant’s Garage Christmas Party. On one of our breaks, I grabbed a piece of baguette and a cup (plastic) of Riesling (Blue Nun, I’m guessing) – the simplest of pairings. It was the first time I realized that food and wine were star-crossed lovers.
In the late Eighties, a friend who’d been a waiter turned Hilary & me on to Chilean reds. Back then, they were a remarkable value. That was when we learned to appreciate merlots and cabs within a tight budget.
In the late Nineties, we occasionally ventured above the $10-$15 per bottle barrier. And we tried some other reds like Aussie Shirazes and Argentine Malbecs.
It must’ve been 2002 when we experienced Estancia’s 1997 Cabernet Sauvignon. It accompanied an absolutely transcendent meal at an old inn called the Willcox House on the Hood Canal in Washington State. I would never have thought that “cedar and clay” could have anything remotely favorable to do with wine, but there it was!
Not long after that, Hilary & I tried DeLille’s D2 at the Barking Frog. It was one of those “Did we really just spend thirty-something dollars on two glasses of wine?” moments, and it was also an “Oh my gosh!” moment. We happened to be at the DeLille Winery last year on our 21st Anniversary (a friend’s acapella group was gigging there, so we crashed the party). When the owner found out it was our Anniversary, and that we were devotees of D2, he uncorked a bottle for us – even though the official word was that they’d utterly sold out of it.
A recent discovery (revelation might be a better word…) was Cuneo Cellars’ Cana’s Feast Bordeaux-Style Red Mountain . Yes, it is a long name, but the wine warrants it – it’s a long and winding road of a wine! I think it was the 1998. Wow…
Lately, we’ve been tending toward Zinfandel for our “everyday wine” – it seems like there are some good values to be had these days.
Posted by: Scott | September 22, 2006 at 01:00 AM
Scott - thanks for the thoughtful post, and for the new wine suggestions.
Wine, like music, relates to experiences. Drinking a good wine with a spouse or friends is always memorable. And when hearing an old song, it often conjures up experiences from the past.
The Bryant's Garage Christmas part with Blue Nun in a plastic cup. Aren't you glad we evolved somewhat?
Posted by: Dan | September 23, 2006 at 08:44 PM