So a couple weeks ago I noticed [sob!] that my lone remaining 1997 Joseph Swan Wolfespierre Vineyard pinot noir was leaking. I had been hanging on for dear life to this last bottle which was the last vintage from a very special vineyard whose owner ripped out the pinot noir in order to plant syrah because it was supposed to be the next big thing. The Wolfespierre vineyard produced the most unusual and characterful pinot noir I've ever had from California: deep black cherry, loamy earth and a prominent mintiness, and all that ampped up by this particularly warm and fleshy vintage. Classicists who think that all pinots should taste just one way decried this mint feature as incorrect no matter that this is what the earth of that vineyard chooses to give you, but those of us who enjoy diversity LOVED it.
I have every confidence that a well-stored bottle of this wine with a good cork would have another ten years of life to it, but alas, I no longer had the luxury of choice so I stood my last Wolfie up and set it aside until I could decide on an appropriate goodbye meal.
And then forgot all about it until last night when I went into the cellar to choose a pinot to serve with our main course of layered and seared potato and goat cheese terrine with marinated salt-roasted baby beets. Jeepers, I was just playing with food when I made that terrine, and I thought I'd serve a ten-year St. Innocent with it. But the second I saw the Swan I realized I'd unintentionally made the right dish for the Wolfie sendoff. Here's a picture:
Though we used a Durand, the cork was so saturated it practically slithered out of the bottle by itself, and the first thing we smelled was that trademark mint, followed by scents of worn leather sofa, old books, tea, dried cherries, iodine, figs and dried roses. It changed guises a few times in the two hours it took us to finish the bottle, and the very last sip was earth and bandaids. It was truly a special bottle, but paired with that terrine it made the whole evening a special experience.
