Sometimes the search turns up things not to be revisited. A quick pop into my local big-box purveyor had me taking home a bottle with the thought being “I’ll try one, and if it’s worthy I’ll be back for more.” At $5.99, it was worth a shot. The wine bore a well-known name in the business (a name that appeared no fewer than eleven times on the bottle) and was from a region that typically delivers solid quality at reasonable prices. In addition, the region is one that I’ll be visiting later this year, and the weather where I live was finally turning to summer, so all things considered, I popped one into my cart.
After a day or two in the fridge, I cracked the bottle open in anticipation and was summarily underwhelmed. The freshness and zip I expected to find were not at all present, and the wine showing a muted nose and not much flavor at all. Too cold? I let it sit for a little while to tick the temperature up a few degrees and revisited it to find…no improvement. I scanned the bottle for any info that I might have missed that would put the wine in a different context, and I did notice something I hadn’t noticed before. There was no vintage listed on the bottle. While this isn’t uncommon for the region, it led me to guess that the wine was likely a blend of vintages including a portion that was past the peak for its type. Rookie mistake on my part? Maybe, but for six bucks, still worth a shot. No harm, no foul.
Prior to this experience, a wholly opposite sort of find revealed itself at my regular Wednesday night tasting. A couple of years ago, I started a group to force my hand at keeping my samples queue moving through at a reasonable pace. It’s been great for that purpose, and it also allows others a chance to get exposed to some things they might not otherwise see, and the discussion of the wines (tasted blind) with the group keeps me on my toes. This particular Wednesday tasting exposed a wine that got my high score to date in 2023. It happened to be the last wine in a set of sixteen, and was it ever a beauty. The flight was a pretty good set across the board, and for me, the final wine stood clearly above not only the rest of the group, but past vintages of the bottling that I’ve tasted as well. While it’s not a wine that I’d personally be likely to purchase on a regular basis due to its price tier, it’s one that I’ll put on my splurge list and happily recommend to those for whom the sticker isn’t an issue. Here you go:
Duckhorn, Napa Valley (California) Red Wine “The Discussion” 2019 ($180): WOW! The singular non-varietally labeled blend in the Duckhorn raft (one of many terms for a group of ducks) is often the best of the group, and in my opinion it’s the best of all the vintages of the offering that I’ve tasted. It does the vintage proud, with textural richness, weight without heaviness, depth and complexity, approachability and age-worthy structure, and classic Napa Valley aromatics and flavors. If that sounds like a lot, you can just go with the first word above – my rare yet favorite single word review. Contains 67% Cabernet Sauvignon, 31% Merlot, 1% Malbec and 1% Cabernet Franc. 98
It would be great fun to be able to taste this vintage far into the future. We’ll see if I find myself in that enviable position down the road.
Meanwhile, the recent stretch offers other reminders to me. My daughter has gotten interested in wine (I wonder how) and has developed a habit for asking “if there’s any red wine open” when she visits. Just a couple of days ago said opportunity presented itself to her when she had some extended family and friends over to our place for a summer party, the sun having finally made its presence known in coastal Southern California after a May and early June where the region saw virtually zero sunshine. Because she skipped over the whole “frosted glass magnum jug of sweet rosé with convenient finger hook” phase (that I went through early in my wine journey) thanks to my wine work during her early adulthood, she’s quick to let me know when whatever she tastes doesn’t meet her standards. So, in the party spirit, I opened a few bottles from the cellar that I thought might prove interesting.
The first was Demetria Estate “North Slope” 2014 from Santa Ynez Valley – a Côte-Rôtie styled Syrah with 5% Viognier in the mix that I purchased at the winery, probably in 2016. At nearly ten years of age, the wine was absolutely singing, with fully integrated tannins and a balance if primary fruit and secondary characteristics bouncing off each other on the nose and in the mouth. Finishing long and with nuanced complexity, it testified that I have indeed learned some things along the way since the jug days. I patted myself on the back for the purchase, and the bottle was drained quickly.
Next up, the Sierra Vista 2009 Mourvèdre from El Dorado in the Sierra Foothills southwest of Lake Tahoe. Remarkable for its 12.9% listed alcohol content (almost no California red wine carried that kind of number at that time), at age 14 it was still pumping fruit character, with concentrated black cherry joined by notes of tar and soft oak spice and a still intact structure that will make you happy now or down the road if you happen to have any of it in your cellar. Gorgeous!
Finally, a request for a Pinot Noir led to the John Ross 2015 La Belle Rose Vineyard offering from Monterey County. The pomegranate and strawberry fruit that I noted in my 2020 review are still evident in full force, now joined by a fully formulated earthy character that sets off the fruit nicely and makes for a complex finish that kept the bottle moving around the circle of friends.
The moral of the story is a simple one – keep on tasting. Part of the last two weeks of tasting included a discussion with a fellow writer of how we tasters just keep doing it – we pick up that bottle that was left out overnight and give it a whiff in the morning to see what might have occurred with airtime, and dump or keep it as appropriate. We use what is subpar to inform us about what is worthy, and over time we hone our skills and increase the likelihood of future enjoyment. Not a bad way to learn.