Artichoke pesto pizza with curried mushrooms, mmmm.
To celebrate the return of the oven and all good things there-in, I decided to open something that was so generously given me last winter and patiently waiting for me for the last ten months. I think we've spent enough time together to know a troglodyte's menu is never going to do the wine justice, so let's all have a collective cringe and pretend it doesn't matter. (Still, I confess, a white may have better served this one. Sorry, legitimately cringing earth dwellers.)
So I opened this up instead. I'm getting pretty good at getting the cork out. Cool amber bottle,
cool crusty bottle action, nice age on the cork - all things that I find interesting that in reality are neither here-nor-there, all the stuff that makes it romantic and beautiful.
Reading about this wine today I confess, I agree with the fairly consistent 70/100 rating. A nice bit of pleasantness and better on the first night...but really, what what was I doing in 1994? I'd just left NYC. I drove a van cross country, arrived just in time for Christmas of '93, slept in the van on the beach, and within the month was staying in a free condo overlooking a golf course down in OC. Then this one happened. Welcome to California! Do I look as crusty as this bottle? (Rhetorical, but thanks anyway.)