Sitting on a mountaintop (a small one) in the middle of a vineyard (a small one) in Sonoma, with all the noise and hustle miles and worlds away, we were told by our hosts that we would observe the Warren Zevon “Enjoy Every Sandwich” principle for the evening.
The cellar had been raided. Local produce had been obtained. Dinner was grilling.
We began with a Pommeau de Normandie, a Northern French apple version of Pineau de Charentes, apple cider mixed with apple brandy. Good, with spicy apple and cinnamon notes, but it was served straight; would have been better served on the rocks with a twist of lemon to give a touch more zing to it.
The first wine was a Mas de Daumas Gassac Blanc (30% each Viognier, Chardonnay, Petit Manseng, 10% other, field blend). Sorry, didn’t record the vintage, but think it was a 2004. Good, but lacking structure to hold it together. Delving into the peachy/apricoty zone of stone fruit and already turning flabby and dull and candied. More acid would have helped.
With the locally grown lambchops, grilled with herbs, our host decanted a Ch. Montrose 1970. This came from the same stash reported on a couple of months ago…and if anything, this bottle was superior to the last by a small margin. Wonderful; the tannins are still there, but softened out more than anyone might have expected with this controversial vintage. Amazingly youthful wine, with plenty of fruit emerging; it has years and years to go before it shows any signs of approaching peak, I think.
The Ch. Margaux 1955, on the other hand, had all of us a bit anxious. At first this elegant Grand Dame of a Bordeaux came across as a “drink me quick before I fade away” wine…fully rounded, soft, with no edges at all, and just the whisper of decline in its bricky color and delicate nose of wormwood. But then it seemed to revive, and it held quite nicely in the glass for much longer than any of us thought it would. Still elegant, still a dowager, but still assertive and still demanding attention, with the fruit emerging past the secondary elements and the acidity still holding firm. Just to be on the safe side, though, we decided not to serve the Point Reyes Blue with it, relying on the Manchego and the Rouge et Noir Triple Cream Brie and fresh-baked bread to carry us through the bottle.
With a dessert of ricotta cheese fruit tart festooned with dried and roasted golden figs, our host opened a bottle of Broadbent 10 Year Old Malmsey. Our conversation got softer and softer as we sipped the Madeira and the night started draping itself around us, with the evening chill coming on and the cathedral quiet as the stars revealed themselves, until finally, reluctantly, it was time to go back down the mountain.