Massandra 1931 Ai-Danil Tokay...and Happy Birthday, Dad!

I could devote many column inches on the enormous impact my father has had on the fabric of so many people’s lives over the years (Google “John Rosenberg AppalRed” or “John Rosenberg civil rights lawyer” for a taste), but that’s for another venue. What’s the wine connection?

What do you get the man who doesn’t need anything? He’s happy, healthy, and still doing the work he loves. A milestone like an 80^th birthday deserves an appropriately celebratory gift. After some pondering and a little poking around online, I was able to locate (via Sotheby’s Wine – a New York offshoot of the London auction house) something appropriate. Ladies & Gentlemen, let me introduce:

Massandra 1931 Ai-Danil Tokay

The wineries in Massandra were built during the reign of Czar Nicholas II. During the process, wine caves containing thousands of bottles were constructed beneath the city. This “personal wine cellar” of the Czar contained tens of thousands of bottles. These caves survived the Russian Revolution, both World Wars, the fall of Communism, and Yakov Smirnoff. In 1990, about 13,000 of these bottles – never before available in the West – were put to auction. (Read more about the auction here: http://goo.gl/B86Uc) A couple of decades later, FedEx brought one of those bottles to me.

The bottle itself was quite a sight. Standard sized wine bottle, green glass, no label. The Sotheby’s wrapper had the identifying information. The wrapper was necessary for cleanliness purposes, as the bottle was still caked somewhat with the Crimean cave dirt in which it had rested for about sixty years. Wax seal, still mostly intact, over the cork.

Tokay (or Tokaji), in case you’re wondering, is a dessert wine originating in the Tokaji region of Hungary (the wine is mentioned in the Hungarian national anthem). During the days of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, the Ukraine was part of the Tokaji region, so those wines maintained the moniker. The wine is made from grapes affected by “noble rot,” like French Sauternes. The result is a golden-colored, fragrant, sweet wine with enormous aging potential. As the wine ages, the color changes like a sunset – from gold to increasingly deep red. The complexity of flavors follows.

I consulted with a couple of sommelier friends of mine to get some pointers on handling such an old bottle. The short version of said advice: “Keep the bottle as still as you can so you don’t disturb the sediment, and be careful decanting it.” Later in the evening, my brother-in-law said that he thought there was either something alive or explosive in the box, since I was handling it so gingerly.

The potent fear when opening wine this old is that it might not be wine anymore. It doesn’t take much going wrong over the course of 80 years to complete a wine’s journey to Vinegar-land. After Dad had a chance to see the bottle, the moment of truth was at hand. I slowly started extracting the cork. I immediately saw that there was only about a quarter inch of dry cork left. I’ve seen two-year old bottles with similar looking corks be utterly shot. Butterflies were cutting complex maneuvers in my gut. The cork came free.

My nose met a blast of honey, fruit, and flowers. Intact! The relief and excitement evoked a long-ago summer camp memory of a brown-haired girl’s smile as she whispered, “You can kiss me if you want.”

Grinning and trembling a bit, I decanted the Tokay. All things considered, I did a pretty good job. I was able to keep almost all of the sediment in the bottle. The wine had continued its darkening over the years and was now a deep reddish-chestnut. I poured small amounts for everyone and we toasted my father.

How’d it taste? Unbelievably good. One of the most “layered” wines that I’ve ever tried -- rich, full, and sweet without being cloying. Each sniff and sip yielded something a little different. The notes I managed to scribble (which really don’t do it justice): “Nose: honey, prunes, sunshine, violets. Body: raisins, caramel, honey, peach, pear. Back: spice, honey, little lemon zest. LAYERS. 3 minutes of finish. Stupendous, worthy, rich. Wine for a king’s table.” (Or, as I learned above, a czar’s.)

Since very little of the wine had evaporated over the years, we had enough to actually brave a food pairing. The suggested  pairing with Tokay is pears and blue cheese. Lovely. The pears amplified the fruit in the wine. The creamy funk of the Roquefort shook hands and gave the honey a warm hug. Stunningly tasty.

We continued with the birthday celebration, and I managed to slyly move the decanter from the table so that the Sweet Partner in Crime and I could have a nightcap. Not surprisingly, the soul of the wine, preserved so long, left quickly. The wine was still

drinkable a couple of hours later, showing some of the same flavors, but the bouquet and layers of wonder and complexity had flattened. No matter. This wine lived 80 years and shone brightly for we who were lucky enough to be around when it was opened…like my Dad.

 

 

 

 

Technorati Tags: Tokay,Tokaji,Hungary,Crimea,wine,wine pairing,Nicholas II

Cleaning Out My Closet

I didn’t want to leave you hanging all thirsty for some new bottles to try. As you can see from the site index, a fair amount of wine gets sampled around here. Not all of it makes it into the blog. Usually it’s for topical reasons – the wine just doesn’t fit what I’m writing about at the time, but it’s interesting enough for me to keep in reserve. I take my notes and stash them for a rainy day. Well, the clouds have come.

In no particular order, a few wines that were plenty good enough to make the Vine’s cutting, but just never wound up in a column:

Hogue 2005 Chenin Blanc -- Hogue is one of my favorite Vine-level producers. I've been extremely pleased with just about everything that I've tried from them. The Chenin Blanc certainly didn't disappoint. Within each of their varietals, I find the Hogue wines to be much richer than many of their counterparts. Not necessarily more complex, but more full-bodied and, for my money, more "elegant." The chenin has a nose of melon and green apples. I expected this to be a lighter-styled wine, but the body was rich without being cloying. A nice fruity, melony taste with a texture that reminded me a lot of a viognier. The finish is more lingering than crisp. I had this with cod loin with vegetables and herbs cooked in foil packets, and it was wonderful. $8-10.

96 Points 2005 Shiraz/Viognier -- One of the best marketing ideas I've seen – why worry about what Parker’s going to give your wine when you can slap a score right on the label? It's certainly an interesting wine. Australian shirazes are always fragrant, and the viognier in this blend amplifies that, giving this a very strong nose of strawberries, coffee, and mint. Lush on the tongue, and not as fruity as I would have expected. Finish starts out with a light tannin that strengthens for a long time into a lingering coffee flavor. Around $10.

Laurel Glen 2005 "Reds" -- Marketed as "a wine for the people" -- this red blend from Lodi, California is a blend of four grapes -- Zinfandel, Carignane, Petit Sirah, and Syrah. The result is a big ol' smooth red wine. The nose is cherries and blackberries. As you would expect with those particular grapes, this is a big-tasting wine, but the fruit-bomb tendency of the zinfandel is tempered by the syrah and petit sirah -- leaving a taste of smooth tart cherries. The finish slides easily into a slightly dry, slightly fruity end which is quite nice. This wine was born to go with grilled or roasted red meat. Rare roast beef and new potatoes would be scrumptious here. At $8-10, you can spend the extra money on meat from the butcher's case.

Woodsman's White 2005 Cserszegi Füszeres – I simply didn’t know where to put this wine when I first tried it. The grape is pronounced chair-seggy fooser-raish. A clone of a gewürztraminer grown in Hungary. reminiscent of Alsace gewürztraminer. It starts you out with a strong sweet apple nose. Body is initially very dry. After a couple of sips, a gentle fruit flavor comes out. Finish is somewhat crisp. Had this with a Thai eggplant, bean, and tomato salad and it went quite nicely. I first found this at Trader Joe’s for around $4, of all things – it’s definitely worth it!

Chateau de Pena "Ninet de Pena" 2006 Cuvee Rose – A good, basic table rose from the makers of my favorite red box wine. Expect nothing fancy here. The nose is straightforward -- a little bit honey and flowers. Full bodied full for a rose and more than a bit acidic. The finish is bone dry. If you’re just sipping at it on it's own, it's decent. But for something to throw back if you're eating some meat or other earthy stuff and for some reason you don't want a red, it's hard to beat this for $5-6.


Stumble It!

Resting on the Ottoman

Followers of the Vine know that the SPinC and I enjoy exploring. From ambling the twisty roads of Sonoma to the back roads of Indiana, we're on the lookout for new tastes in new places. Thus far, our oenological travels have been largely domestic. Our "international wine" exploration has largely stemmed from perusing the aisles of our local wine stores. (With the exception, of course, of the Thai wines…)

As winemaking technology spreads, so do the abilities of "nontraditional" wine areas to crank out a respectable vintage. Argentina, Chile, South Africa, New Zealand have all placed themselves firmly on the "check 'em out" list next to Germany, Italy, France, and Australia.

When wine that's not from a "typical" wine producer shows up, I'll give it a go -- for research's sake, of course. I recently stumbled across a few bottles from "elsewhere" to try:

Naoussa Boutari 2004 Dry Red Wine -- Greece, as much as any country, started the Western world down the oenological path. Were I a pantheist, Dionysius (the Greek God of wine and the liberation of the mind) would be one of my patron deities, of course. The Greeks boast the oldest recorded wine production in Europe -- starting about 6,000 years ago. Indigenous Greek grapes were the roots of many varietals around the world, especially in Italy. Greek winemaking flourished until its conquest by the Ottoman Empire, when wine production was repressed. The subsequent World Wars didn't help much either. In the 1950's and 60's, an inexpensive Greek wine called "Retsina" dominated the market, but it wasn't highly thought of outside the country's borders. Only in the last 40-50 years have Greek winemakers been interested more broadly in producing exportable product.

In this wine's nomenclature, "Naoussa" is the region. Boutari is the family name of the winemaker. This wine is largely made from the indigenous Greek Xinomavro varietal. This is one of the two main red varietals used in Greek wine (The other is Agiorgítiko). After I cracked the bottle and poured, I could have been looking at a glass of light-styled Beaujolais. The nose is a little more alcohol-scented than a Beaujolais, but the basic profile is similar. The nose reminds me a little of cranapple juice. There are some nice understated fruit flavors -- it's almost delicate…until you swallow. The wine then hits you with a load of tannin and a long, dry finish. The bottle suggests pairing with "roast meats and cheeses of…an intense character." I can certainly see that -- the tannins will slice through just about any kind of flavor like that. Lamb would be great with it, not surprisingly. $10.

Monarchia Cellars 2006 Pinot Grigio -- This is a Hungarian wine from near Budapest. The only other language with an indigious word for "wine" is Hungarian. (The word is "bor.") Hungary has produced wine since the 5^th century AD. The best known wines in Hungary are either dessert wines from the Tokaj region, or a red wine concoction known as "Bull's Blood." I recently tried the latter, which was rather thin, watery, and did not make me grow horns.

The only other Hungarian offering I've had has been a novelty wine called Vampire, which pops in from Transylvania once a year -- and you're better off drinking blood, honestly. Hungary's wine industry was also slowed by the Ottomans for a long time, and the phylloxera epidemic did additional damage. In the mid-to-late 20^th century, Hungarian winemakers started experimenting with varietals from other places, especially many of the German & Austrian varietals, along with pinot noir and cabernet sauvignon. Only in the last 20 years have their big indigenous varietals come back into play.

I was able to locate a pinot grigio from Monarchia, one of the larger Hungarian producers. Their pinot grigio has an appley-citrusy nose and a pleasant initial tartness. The body of the wine starts to go a bit south after first sip. After a few sips, it becomes a little watery instead of staying crisp. The finish is soft and not too tart. It's an easy drinking wine, but not really anything out of the ordinary. It's a good experiment with a grape, but there are probably better ones out there. $9.

Kavaklidere 2006 Yakut -- Turkey is one of the largest producers of grapes in the world, but only two percent of its yearly harvest is used for wine. Once again, the Ottoman influence had a major effect. Turks are not big wine drinkers. Americans consume 33 times more per capita, while the French consume almost 215 times as much. Even so, Turkey is starting to explore its winemaking abilities as well. They are making some higher quality products. Yakut is the varietal. It's made of two native varietals (Bogazkere and Öküzgözü) and islabeled "red table wine." Honestly, that's exactly what it is. The nose is interesting. It's got a lot of plum up front, but there's something behind it that almost smells like apples. There's some good dark fruit on the medium palate, and the finish is long, dry, and a little earthy. It's similar in style to a Cotes-du-Rhone, and I'd probably pair it with similar foods -- like cheeses, hearty soups, and saucy meats. About $10 if you want to give it a go.

A number of other countries are getting into the act. Russia and the former Soviet Republics are producing more and more wine, and China will likely be a big player in the international wine market in the years to come. They shouldn't have any trouble from the Ottoman Empire, either. The number of varietals available on the market continues to expand, and I'm all for the options. Have any of you tried wines from "elsewhere?" Do share in the comments, if you would.