Cork in perfect shape. Nose immediately wafted out a delightful aroma of Provencal herbs as if straight from the vineyards. Gingerbread, spice and more herbs emerge from glass. Leather mushroom earthy elements… And yet still lots of raspberry fruit going on too. On palate the fruit comes across clearly, raspberry, blackberry, there's plenty by way of dusty tannins, and a gorgeous chewy complexity. The finish is long and succulent. Across the course of an evening, the wine’s minerality reveals itself with increasing confidence until it becomes almost the dominant note. Over ten years after vintage the rougher elements of the famously rustic Gigondas appellation have softened and while this is still a big wine, it's round and it's revealing, and it's inviting too. Meshed perfectly with an eggplant/mushroom/olive pasta dish.
Conclusion: This is Gigondas at its best. While there was evidently plenty life left in the bottle, this seemed to capture the wine at the ideal point where fruit had not completely faded and yet secondary flavors had developed nicely. From a vintage point of view, I’m not sure I’ve had a bad bottle from the entire southern Rhône in 1999, despite the fact it’s considered, by many, somehow “weaker” than 1998 and 2000 and 2001. In fact, I’ve had off bottles or cooked or undeveloped or closed bottles from the other vintages, and yet 1999 seems to have been drinking seamlessly throughout. Finally, I’d like to believe I could tell the difference between a 10-year old Gigondas and a 10-year old Chateauneuf; the mineral, earthy, gingerbread nature of this wine was markedly different from a 2000 Beaurenard Châteauneuf du Pape I had just a weekend ago, which had the lovely milky texture that older Châteauneuf du Papes often aspire towards. So, yes, Gigondas is more “rustic,” but it carries its own distinct delights and depending on the wine and the vintage (and my mood of course), there are many days when I prefer it.