There is an inherent faith exhibited when one chooses to fall in love with anything, not the all encompassing love that we share for family and friends, but, still, the kind of lesser love that is a lifelong passion for something that makes our lives just a little bit better. For me, one of these things has been wine. Especially aged wines, wines that have had time to mellow and grow in complexity. I am an unabashed fan of my home turf, I am an absolute supporter of California wines and all they can be, but, I have always always held Bordeaux in special esteem.
For me, a fine Bordeaux only begins to reach it's potential after 10 years of aging, something that speaks to the inherent optimism, faith if you will, that this wine will spend 10 years maturing, and not turning to vinegar or gathering some form of taint making it undrinkable. Through my many adventures through the health system, cancer scares, surgeries et al...there were those bottles just laying there, waiting. You have to wonder what would possess a person, in the midst of dealing with multiple health issues to buy wine that could take 10, 20 or even 40 years to mature. Yes, I own a bottle that will probably take another 25 years to reach it's potential. Optimism and Faith.
Tonight, I will open at least one of these, perhaps two, and share them for dinner with some friends. These are not my usuals, not daily drinkers in any manner. I have waited 11 years for these to come to a point where I hope they are the expressions of their pedigree and their terroir. A 2000 Baron de Rothschild Carruades de Lafite and a 2000 Chateau Figeac stand ready to celebrate our mutual maturity.
Hopefully this will correct the one misstep of last nights dinner, a horrible sochu mint cocktail that spoke to chewing on mint stems. I know, horrible snobbery, what can I say, I may enjoy spending all night smoking a brisket and eating cherries laced with bourbon, but, I really enjoy a good plate of charceuterie and a little wine.
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