by Julian Schultz
julian@oxfordwineroom.com
The question always occurs to me when I am to taste wines old and
hoary…when perhaps the days of their youth were the days of their glory...wines
now festooned with venerable garlands of pedigree.
Among
my eccentricities is the habit of saving my best wines for last. Fine! Provided
the “best” wines last. Too frequently, however, time, a gypsy man, steals
away the lives of those best wines.
I usually put down classic wines for aging – permitting their youthful,discrete, unbalanced components to merge and mellow; only to discover -- alas!
Julian, Julian, the fleeting years have slipped them by: I find some wines,
deserted now of appearance, aroma and flavor, went over the hill; and I was left
to ponder what they might have been had I not played “best for last.”
We can only guess when a wine will reach its plateau of optimum
drinkability. The safest approach is to taste a bottle from the case every year
or so and note any improvement. The year you enjoy ultimate flavor satisfaction,
you should drink away.
Recently at the Castle Restaurant, sommelier/maitre d’ Jim Nicas
provided an adventure, exploring 1983 vintage wines from France, California and
Portugal. Grand Master chef Stanley Nicas, expectedly, appropriately and
successfully, matched imaginatively prepared and delectable food to the wines.
The wine dinner was a Chaine des Rotisseurs event, where members with
discriminating palates enjoy, critique and discuss gourmet food and fine wine.
The Chaine is an international society of wine and food lovers with chapters
through out the world, including 144 in America.
Another facet of the dinner: It was a MODIAL event. L’Ordre Mondial des
Gourmets Degustateurs is an enviable society within the Chaine society, whose
members have a deeper and more special interest in wine and spirits. We wear a
special Mondial medal attached to our broad, colorful neck ribbons, signifying
our membership.
The
Chaine began as a guild in the mid-1200s when food aficionados sought cooks who
were expert at rotating birds, fowl and game on rotating spits to grill their
geese and swans. These guilds flourished until the French Revolution in 1789,
when they were destroyed by the social and political upheaval.
In
1950 the Chaine was reborn; it continues its tradition of promoting pleasure in
fine dining with fine wine and good fellow- and ladyship. A cardinal rule
is our practical approach to dining: When food is served hot, members are
expected to begin eating – not to observe the fusty good manners of waiting
for other table members’ food to arrive. The logic: Those who would wait could
be eating their food cold, while those just served would enjoy theirs hot.
I eagerly anticipated tasting the ‘83s, knowing that wines of the same
vintage year, from the same growing regions, do not necessarily mature at the
same rate. Some of the ‘83s could be over the hill, others at their prime or
just slightly below.
Yes, as with our own lives, wines grow old and expire. An overage wine
loses its important acid bite; its appearance changes from bright gold in white
wines to deep yellow, dull amber or brown copper, and from ruby or garnet in
reds to cloudy brick color mixed with brown hues; its flavor loses its fruit and
may smell and taste musty, rancid and vinegary; finally the wine’s principal
components of fruit, acid, alcohol, tannin (in reds), texture and weight
disintegrate. What remains may be a poignant memory of happier times when we
enthusiastically luxuriated over the wine with reverential dinner table
companions.
Forty-five members of the Chaine Bailliage (juisdiction) de Colonial New
England and host Bailli (head person) Jim Nicas expectantly awaited these
20-year-old wines with considerable curiosity. How elegantly did these
prestigious and expensive wines age? Did the gnarled, clawing, rapacious fingers
of malevolent time strip away their loveliness and leave them violated, naked
and embarrassed; or had father time been patient and benevolent-- nurtured them,
matured them and kept them tantalizing, seductive, desirable and embraceable?
Only at the Castle! Yes, only at the Castle would the food so spectacular
to the palate dwarf the wines of pedigree to the palate. And so it was…
We were treated to an epicurean
extravaganza of elegance and excellence, beginning with Charles Lafitte
Champagne, a non-vintage exception – not an ’83. Its creamy, tiny, lively
beads piqued the palate with sprightly texture and delighted us with aromas and
flavors of fresh toast, apples, nuts, vanilla…and birch bark! It was paired
with hors d’oeuvres of fresh goose liver foie gras topped with
Cumberland sauce: plum jam, orange slice and port wine; clams Casino with
turkey bacon over crushed shallots, red and green peppers and seasoned bread
crumbs; salmon, cured pastrami style with tabooli: crushed bulgur cracked wheat,
onions, tomatoes, parsley, lemon, oil; and game terrine topped with quince and
blood orange slice.
So delicious were the canapés that we ate on and on and on– so many,
that it was like consuming three or four courses!
Elbows were bent. The two-fisted gourmets among us had Champagne in one hand and
hors d’oeuvres in the other, many of us eating all four hors d’oeuvres at
the same time between sipping the bubbly.
As the tuxedoed waitstaff kept coming and offering more, I tried to
maintain my resolution of steel to forgo over-consumption of wine and food,
being cognizant of the dinner to follow and of my promise to good physician and
good friend Dr. Bob Ouellette that I would hesitantly approach the food -- with
restraint -- knowing he wouldn’t accept my protestations that, well,
everything was just too delicious…and, well, we live only once…and, well,
there is always tomorrow start forbearance…and, well – you get the picture.
Yes, I
arrived at the Castle with such firm determination. Alas! Having gormandized
with the hors d’oeuvres, my steel will of self-denial had turned to tin before
we entered the Camelot dining room where a five course dinner would be
served…Well, I don’t intend to tell the good, caring doctor – to avoid his
exasperation and lecture.
As usual, the dinner and service were perfection: A properly positioned
array of wine glasses, each appropriate in shape and size to the variety of wine
being poured, sparkled like crystal. Empty glasses and plates were promptly
whisked away and plates quickly replaced with the ensuing courses. Wine pours
and refills were immediate.
The dinner. Salmon wrapped around scallop mousse with regular and blood
orange slices and blood orange buerre blanc was paired with Meursault “Les
Croits” Ballot Millot.
The poached swirl of feather light scallop mousse was so delicate that it
seemed to float on a cloud. Its delicious flavors elicited murmurs of approval
and exclamations of delight. Scallop and salmon flavors, accented with sweet
orange slices impinged, however, on the fragile flavors of the 20-year-old white
Burgundy wine.
Notes on the Meursault: “beige color shows age; slight musty honey-ish,
fermented apples nose; earthy/musty/honey flavors; intriguing – perplexing –
a decrepit Grande Dame; smooth swallow, short aftertaste. I like it -- I’m not
so sure I do -- I don’t like it. Maybe the sweet orange slices’ decided
accent on the mousse diminished the wine. Fortunately, and properly, the wine
was poured before we received the food; it wasn’t at all bad then,
especially to those of us who have a British palate – enjoying wines beginning
their decline. So with the Meursault -- interesting and not a disaster.
Gently rubbed ginger on generous duckling slices, with caramelized sliced Anjou pears over lettuce pieces, followed. Wines of Vougeot “Le Village” Pierre Ponelle, and Nuits St. George “Clos Courvees” Pierre Ponelle, a classified Premier Cru, were challenged by the duck.
The
complexity of the tender, delicious duckling’s pronounced sweet ginger and
pears flavors may have diminished the frail wines.
Its
mature, complex nose proved to be Vougeot’s only redeeming feature. On the
palate I probed and probed – yes, finally, I found faint fruit – then,
going, going, gone.
The
St. George’s delightful pomegranate, cranberry, sweet nose limped to the
palate where it was augmented with typical Burgundian meaty/game tastes. While
its flavors lasted, I enjoyed the wine immensely with the duckling. But
inexorably, albeit unhurried, the wine’s sweet flavors’ subsided…a smooth
swallow…a slow sigh…a sad farewell; a worthy wine while it lasted.
Phenomenal!
Spectacular! The “dry aged” tenderloin of beef: thick cut, medium rare,
juicy, tender, mouth-filling flavors from port wine, apricot and golden raisin
reduction sauce. The plate was completed with honeyed carrot, asparagus spears,
sliced potato topped with Gruyere cream cheese, and spinach soufflé.
Surfeited
though I was – having immoderately, unwisely, over-indulged with the hors
d’oeuvres and having totally finished to the last shred the two preceding
courses -- I gamely labored through half the tenderloin. (In 15 minutes I will
eagerly finish it as tonight’s dinner.)
For
my palate, came the best wine of the evening and blissfully wed to the beef:
Chateau Daussault, St. Emilion, a magnificently balanced Bordeaux, tasting of
berries, currants, tobacco and black pepper and finishing with soft tannins,
velvety swallow and moderately long aftertaste.
But,
soft! What food through yonder kitchen comes? It is the cheese, and Sterling
Cabernet Sauvignon, Diamond Mountain Ranch, is the sun – err, the wine. The
Cheeses: Fontina en brioche, Swiss farmer and Manchego, the latter a Spanish
sheep milk cheese, all sweetly kissed with blueberry compote.
The cheeses, garnished with the exciting
fruit jam combination, were superb. Did the dry, austere, macho cab, however,
seem awkwardly off-balance with the sweet smacked complex cheeses? Or could it
be my jaded palate, my diminished acuity, my hedonistic indulgence of
tonight’s epicurean repast that account for my uncertainty? No matter, I was
one with pleasure joining other Chaine members who were enthusiastically
applauding the dinner…so far.
It
ain’t over until it’s over…or until the fat lady sings…or until Stanley
and Jim Nicas decide enough is enough. None of this happened.
Dessert
of Belgium satin torte, a mind and taste-boggling gossamer-light concoction of
dark chocolate, raspberries, whipped cream cheese, vanilla custard and sour
cream, escorted by Offley Forrester Vintage Porto, concluded yet another
outstanding, unforgettable Castle gourmet dinner.
Poor,
good friend Porto, you had no chance trying to woo the luscious, delectable,
rich, heavenly, near-cloying, delicious, mousse-like, melt-in-mouth sweet
dessert. Sated up to my gills with spectacular food and fine wine, as I was,
there was no way I would – could – forgo this dinner closing 6th
course.
Offley
Forrester is an old, trusted and favored friend, has long been my sweet nurse
with Stilton cheese before bedtime, my sweet nurse who weighs my eyelids down
and steeps my senses in forgetfulness. But tonight an upstart dessert seduced
this fickle palateer, and I sipped and set aside my good and trusted pre-bedtime
libation companion. Wayward Julian embraced the Belgium chocolate torte and
allowed himself – “Take me, I am yours!” -- to be gustatorily ravished by
its debauching charms.
All
was well with the world, as I – and assuredly speaking for 44 other Chaine
members and guests -- experienced a milestone in fine dining.
Grand
Master chef Stanley and son, Jim, modestly acknowledged our prolonged plaudits
and laudatory accolades. Once again, the Castle restaurant demonstrated the
authenticity of its enviable reputation as one of New England’s premier
gourmet grand dining establishments.
Oh,
I overate and I over drank. Dr. Bob Ouellette, expects an honest report on my
palate’s behavior.
So…I’ll
lie……
Wine
Pick: Robert Mondavi’s Woodbridge Syrah 2000, $10, blended with cabernet
sauvignon and petite sirah, six months aged in oak. A pleasing fruit laden red
wine, its flavors reminiscent of cherry, blueberry, plum; some tasters discerned
floral overtones; others, chocolate, bay leaf, warm spices. All agreed, the
Syrah offers big pleasure for little money.
Wine
Pick: Victor Hugo Zinfandel 1999, $19. Another winner from this distinguished
Paso Robles winery. Layers of soft, smooth fruit; reminiscent of blueberry and
cherry with balancing black pepper, firm texture and soft tannin; smooth
swallow, reluctant farewell. A zin aficionado’s fantasy now a reality at your
favorite wine shop.
Wine Pick: Robert Mondavi Coastal Private Selection Sauvignon Blanc 2001, $10, blended with 4 percent semillon, aged on its yeasts to enhance texture. Experience layers of honeydew, tropical fruit, citrus, kiwi and pear flavors; some tasters discerned nuances of spice, mineral and lemongrass. Try this springtime delight with poached haddock or coquilles St. Jacques.