Wine 4

Today, I mourn the passing of a perfectly acceptable wine. I have fond memories of this wine being crisp and refreshing as I sat on my back porch, the Texas sun beating a July tattoo upon my much younger head. I'm sad that this wine escaped my notice for eight of the last nine years.

I became aware of the vintners when they were featured at my local grocery store. I suppose I should mention that I live in a relatively urban area, filled with people who like to feel smart about their food. People identify themselves by that horrible epithet around here. You should be aware so that when I say Grocery store, you understand that I mean one which has to compete not with Seven Eleven but with Whole Foods. I'm just sayin'.

The Eroica was a collaboration between Chateau Ste Michelle and Dr Loosen, a combination of Washington's Columbia Valley and the know-how of a solid middle-grade grower in the Mosel region of Germany, both vintners capable of producing a tasty if ephemeral wine. Such is the nature of the Riesling. It is a volatile grape and one which should not be stored. The best Rieslings will never see a birthday.

I will, then, describe my memory of this wine before I pour a single drop from the bottle.

The wine is delicate, fruity and a little sparse, suggesting a very mild experience and a minimally ugly assault on the senses. The wine delivers notes of cherry and lavender, smelling of a fresh-mown lawn of wildflowers wafting a mile over a hill to a porch where one sits, drinking a simple glass of sweet, pure water.

The flavor is pure pansy and violet, quiet flowers with distinct if subtle flavors. As the wine fades from the palate, the hint of dryness is suddenly and completely lost in the beauty of the smooth, crisp finish.

Ten years does a lot of good for a memory. For a Riesling, maybe not so much.

The wine itself has yellowed badly and lost all viscosity. The liquid has a troubling, sullen look to it. I notice distinct particulate in the tiny bubbles which have formed on my Duz glass.

The wine smells of stagnancy and decay. The sugar has fallen to ruin. The flowers have become compost. The flavor is pure rotten apple. The finish has become a hideous parody of itself, barging darkly into the nostrils and taking the sinuses at gunpoint. The tannins and alcohol have come forward to the detriment of anything good or wholesome that may have been contained in the formerly subtle and complex substance.

This is not good wine. This is a horrible, grinding lapdance on the grave of good wine. This is a travesty in a bottle. This is a pity.

This is a wine with such beautiful promise but absolutely no shelf life. This is a wine which was inducted into the National Honor Society only to live out a career managing burgers at a used car wash. My sweet memories will hold me, though, until next week, when I will again delve into my cellar.

All the best.