Wine 2

Perhaps I am not alone in having grown up with Fess Parker's portrayal of Davy Crockett. I certainly hope I am not the only one who gets little chills when I hear the phrase “Killed him a b'ar when he was only three.” There's power in our childhood, and that power is, I am absolutely sure, what enticed me to purchase a Viognier from the Fess Parker vineyards in Los Olivos, California. I had heard from at least one other avid wine-consumer that the product was superior, and that 1996 was a good year for white wines. When that avid wine drinker saw, four years later, that I still had this bottle, he suggested that Viogniers, like so many white wines, were at their best within the first year or two of bottling, and that keeping them for longer, one takes a great risk.

Now, ten years later, I have popped the cork on the bottle. I bought two Viogniers at the time, this and one which I'll open later. Each has seen its share of problems.

When I went to open the bottle, the lead had puffed up over the somewhat sunken cork. Tartaric crystals had formed around the neck, and the bottle smelled like wine, which is never a good sign. The top of the cork broke up a little as I pulled it, but remained on the whole intact.

This wine is fragrant, but not overpowering. It has a very light floral scent, suggesting daffodils and lilies. Like last week's Merlot, it has no legs, but unlike that wine, it has taken on some particulate matter from the cork. As it warms, the fruits come out, a little apple, and the sweet grape quality still preserved despite its decade encased in my dark closet. The flowers are still present, highlighting the fruits.

Although I do not believe this to have been even a lightly carbonated wine, tiny bubbles have formed on the sides of the glass.

It really is a pity to drink this wine. It's sad. I can tell from the scent, and I believe I remember drinking another Viognier from the same year, this was a very tasty white. Now, it's sour and leaves a tingling on the tongue. The fruits have become an acidic burn, searing the tip of my tongue. Luckily, that particularly thin body makes the effect short-lived, but I would not call this wine toothsome. Perhaps with some more airing and a little too much of a chill, one could choke it down, but it would appear that my hesitation has ruined an otherwise perfectly drinkable wine.

The combination of the sourness and the overripe and sugary quality are a powerfully uncomfortable one-two punch. The flavor brings tears to my eyes as I continue. With greater quantities and buildup, the wine develops a crisp if musty finish. It mellows a bit, but my tongue has gone almost entirely numb. It feels like a limb reviving after a time without circulation.

I guess the taste isn't all bad, it just takes some getting used to. That first sip, I have to say, was wretched. After that, it became mostly acceptable. I still stand by my assertion that I have ruined a good wine with the addition of too much time, but this is not a terrible product. I believe this is still suitable for cooking, if mixed with some other flavor. I believe it could be used not unlike vinegar in salads or cooking.

Really, though, this was not so bad. I know, I promised horror last week, and I'm sure I'll be able to deliver. I was expecting this wine to be much worse, all in all. I had two bottles of chardonnay which I opened some months ago, only to discover that they had become entirely foul. Worry not, gentle reader, at least one of the lurkers in my closet is beyond drinking. With patience and an iron gullet, I await their approach.