The Melting Teapot

Sometimes a glass of wine is best enjoyed with friends, to sip as a colorful background for conversation and fun activities.  Other times, a glass of wine can enhance a meal, cleansing the palate between bites and elevating the flavors of food.  Occasionally, a wine is best enjoyed in a thoughtful way, taking time to think through flavors and aromas, engaging all of the senses to evoke memories, and gaining a depth of understanding that is rewarding in and of itself.

Complex wines are better for this sort of examination, with multiple layers that expand and open up throughout an evening.  I’ve often seen these referred to as a thinking-person’s wine, but I prefer the idea that these are wines for “contemplative moods,” for those times that any person might want to focus themselves in a thoughtful, even pensive way.

Tonight, I found myself in one of those introspective moods where I’d like to be lost in thought, so I chose a wine that might suit this mood: 2003 Allegrini La Poja Veronese, from Italy.  After reading comments and reviews of the wine, it seemed to have enough of a full and complex profile for me to enjoy its dissection.

Knowing that the aromas are a big part of pulling out flavors and picking a wine apart, I grabbed my oversized sommelier glass for this wine.  It is not a glass for a weak wine, since its size tends to expose flaws more than most.

I poured about an inch of wine in my glass, giving a quick sniff to make sure it wasn’t corked and to define any opening characteristics. I swirled it aggressively to expose the liquid to air, as well as encourage the aromas to rise up in the glass.

The first sniff was subdued with just a hint of vanilla, which concerned me (it can sometimes indicate a heavy handed use of oak).  Soon, though, the vanilla gave way to vegetables dusted with powdered sugar.  Yes, I know that’s an odd description, but it was somehow sweet and savory at the same time – sort of like a carrot cake, or veggie tempura dipped in a sweet chili sauce.   As I tried to break it down even more, further aromas appeared:  soy sauce, bubblegum dust, black cherries, roasted red bell pepper (just a tiny bit), tomato sauce, and a sweet herb I couldn’t quite identify.

After the wine was exposed to air for another 20 minutes or so, there were notes of milk chocolate and a wonderful lightly roasted tea (talk about hitting the center of my personal target).  Wow!  The La Poja became more and more intricate as it sat in my glass.

The nose was really spectacular, and I enjoyed it so much that nearly half an hour passed before I took more than a cursory sip.

The color was a deep garnet, growing lighter on the edges.  It is more transparent than it looks in the photo above; I could still make out my fingers beneath the glass.

As I finally tipped the glass of wine to my lips, there was an instant hit of that initial aroma of sugared veggies, then the flavors began to pile on to my palate:  cherries cherries cherries! at first, then a sort of vegetable broth, herbs, and something that made me think of the outdoors.

I paused before the next sip to take an accounting of the wine’s texture.  In front of my teeth, my lips and gums were a bit dry.  However, throughout the rest of my mouth there was plenty of saliva.  So, both tannins and acids are evident.  I like the way they balance out, not overly drying, but enough tannin to control the acidity.

Another sip showed more cherries and some root vegetables, followed by that lightly herbaceous edge, and an impression of dirt or earth. I needed to excavate that impression more.  It is not the dusty flavor on a windy day in the desert, nor is it the muddy-decomposing forest floor of the Pacific Northwest.  This is more of a mineral-driven earthiness -- iron, silver, copper.   I don’t mean to imply that it is overly so; it is not unpleasantly metallic.  What I noticed was a more elemental aspect of earth.  I kept thinking of caves, and my mind began to wander toward the times I visited Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico, and to the way things smell when you’re underground.

Okay, so I’ve gone overboard on that analogy, but it was my attempt to get at the nature of this wine.  I feel that its earthiness is distinct from the earthiness of other wines, and somehow this is what gives it the depth upon which the rest of its flavors layer themselves.

After this one very intense, hour-long inspection of my glass of wine, I condensed my notes and posted them to Cellartracker:

Nose: soy sauce, bubblegum dust, black cherries, roasted red bell pepper (just a tiny bit), tomato sauce, some sort of a sweet herb that I can’t quite identify. After the wine has been exposed to the air for another 20 minutes or so, there are notes of milk chocolate and tea.  Wow!  It is just getting more and more intricate as it sits in my glass.

Palate: dark cherries, herbs, root vegetables, and earth.  There is a nice balance between tannin and acid, which lets the flavors really shine.  It is still a tad hot, and I think that a few more years would really smooth out the rough edges (which makes me wish I had a few more bottles of this for my cellar).

Finish: The earthiness of the wine extends on for several minutes, and the herbs continue after the cherry dissipates.  For me, this wine is all about the nose and the finish.  The flavor is great, but it is the start and end that make it special.

I’m going to pour myself another glass of wine and turn my attention now to reading instead of writing.  Philosophy?  Classic literature?  Or a cozy whodunit?  Let me think about it as I give my glass another swirl. . .