3 posts tagged “bordeaux”
...but a really really really good, really really really old bottle of wine probably costs more.
As some of you know, in March of 2006, Rob Sylvan challenged me to a race for Diamond.
At iStockphoto, contributors are grouped into levels based on total sales, starting with Bronze for 500, Silver at 2,500, Gold at 10,000, and Diamond at 25,000 - those of us who deal exclusively with iStock get a progressively larger cut of each sale as our level increases, so it's not purely a status thing...though I will walk a little taller once I hit Diamond.
Anyway, at the time he challenged me, Rob had 13,318 total downloads, and I had 11,498. Despite his nearly 2,000-download lead, I overtook him in October of 2006, and this past month I topped 20,000 downloads, with my eye squarely on the prize as Rob trails behind me at just over 17,000 downloads.
The prize, suggested by Rob, is that loser buys winner a bottle of wine of the winner's choosing.
I'm taking the selection very seriously.
Maybe this bottle of 1961 Pétrus (from the Bordeaux region of France)?
After all, it's only $9,900.
Maybe Rob would rather just buy me an actual diamond...
Appellation [ insert wine name here ] contrôlée...you usually see that on bottles of French wine, accompanied by a name you may recognize, such as Bordeaux, or a name you don't, such as Cornas.
The names put on wines are highly regulated in France. Unlike American wines, usually named for the variety of grape used, French wine names are geographic in nature, but in order to bear a certain geographic name, a wine must comply with certain specifications, such as the varieties of grapes that make up the wine, along with fermentation methods and other standards that are particular & traditional for that particular region, valley, or hillside - depending on how specific the name is.
There is an entire heirarchy to the geographic naming. Virtually anything up and down the Rhône valley can have the name "Côtes du Rhône." The standards for this name are wide because the region is large, there are many different grape varieties grown throughout (but particularly syrah, grenache and cinsault), and there are a variety of winemaking methods that evolved in different places over the centuries. They can be red, rosé, or white wines.
As you narrow down to more specific standards, you hit the "Côtes du Rhône Villages" which are wines that must come only from certain areas, must meet more specific percentages of grape variety blends, and must have a very specific alcohol content (12.5% for reds).
Narrowing it down even further, you can find my earlier example of Cornas, which must come only from a very small, specific area on the right bank of the Rhône river, and must only be red wine made from syrah grapes. Note that red wine made from syrah grapes in Cornas could still be called a Côtes du Rhône, as it meets all the necessary standards for that broader appellation. Cornas is just one example - there are many many other such very specific place names within the Côtes du Rhône.
And then, this heirarchy is reproduced over and over throughout all the wine regions of France, with hundreds and hundreds of possible names. You have Bordeaux, and you have Médoc which is a more specific place within the Bordeaux region. You have Bourgogne (Burgundy), and you have Nuits-Saint-Georges. And on and on.
Honestly, this very superficial look at the subject won't help you when you're standing in the store looking a French bottle with a name you've never heard of...but at least you will know that that name in some way represents the geographic origin of the wine and carries no other mysterious significance.
For accomodations, he had some kind of room-and-board arrangement with this eldery couple who were descendents of French nobility. Apparently his great-great-grandfather (or great-great-great, or however many generations back it would have been) was a tax collector for King Louis XIV. Among the relics in their modest and slightly eerie mansion was a chest that had been used for that very purpose. The kind old couple invited us to dine with them the night I was there.
I don't remember specifically what I ate - it was all very rich and very tasty. What I remember most was the wine. At age 21 and on my second trip to France, I was beginning to develop an appreciation for good wine. I probably didn't know a Bordeaux from a Bourgogne, but even as a wine newbie I was astounded by the full, intriguingly complex bouquet, and by the warm, smooth richness in my mouth unlike anything I had ever sampled.
I had to know what I was drinking so that I would again be able to experience this amazing wine. Finally, the bottle got set back down with the label facing me and, across the long, bourgeois table, I was able to discreetly look the label over. I could see that it was a Bordeaux, and although I couldn't discern which château it may have come from, I was able to read the vintage: 1970.
Mind you, this was 1991. These rich old nobles had pulled a 21-year old bottle of very fine Bordeaux from their cellar to share with a couple of 21-year-old American college boys.
I have never forgotten this incredible wine experience, nor have I since had the opportunity to again enjoy such a perfectly aged Bordeaux. Later, I learned that 1970 (the year I was born) was one of those 5-star vintages for Bordeaux wines.
I can personally confirm that it was indeed, as they say, a very good year.
