There is absolutely no reason whatsoever for anyone to be using a bottle this heavy: to do so is just rude. It makes it harder to hold and pour, more expensive to ship, and of course there's the whole doing right by Mother Earth thing to consider. Worst of all, buying this wine will make you feel like a total prat. After all, what idiot wants to be seen buying the biggest, heaviest, most ostentatious bottle in the shop? Please.
On to the wine. Shortly after opening the bottle, I noticed that I had a huge sticky smear of something all over my left hand (I'm a southpaw). Yuck. I retrieved the cork from the garbage and sure enough, there's a bunch of sticky, gooey mass at the end of the cork and smeared up the side of it. I haven't had the pleasure of this experience before; I trust the wine is OK and that this is just an one-off, a production oddity.
The nose is curiously slight: if Vosges made a chocolate bar called "Gentlemen's Dark Chocolate with Cedar," then this is what it would smell like. Oak oak oak and oak... and yet, there's a pleasant, fleeting floral sourness hiding in there somewhere too. Still, I don't get a real sense of place, just a sense of cash flow: this wine smells like money.
Amazingly purple-y youthful, the wine looks ravishing. Tasting it, though, leaves me a bit less a-flutter: it seems just a bit insubstantial in the mouth at first, quickly hiding behind massive woody tannin and finishing on a slightly sweet note, again managing to taste more expensive than anything else.
In short, this is a wine for a hedge fund manager with a penchant for bling. This wine would be absolutely perfect with a steak dinner at the finest steakhouse in town: I'm thinking El Gaucho in Seattle would sell cases of this to Microsoft marketeers dining prospective clients in town to visit the Executive Briefing Center. Drinking it on its own is a bit of a chore, rather like gargling with lavender water and sawdust, but add a fine cut of meat and even a cigar and now you're talking serious money.
On to the wine. Shortly after opening the bottle, I noticed that I had a huge sticky smear of something all over my left hand (I'm a southpaw). Yuck. I retrieved the cork from the garbage and sure enough, there's a bunch of sticky, gooey mass at the end of the cork and smeared up the side of it. I haven't had the pleasure of this experience before; I trust the wine is OK and that this is just an one-off, a production oddity.
The nose is curiously slight: if Vosges made a chocolate bar called "Gentlemen's Dark Chocolate with Cedar," then this is what it would smell like. Oak oak oak and oak... and yet, there's a pleasant, fleeting floral sourness hiding in there somewhere too. Still, I don't get a real sense of place, just a sense of cash flow: this wine smells like money.
Amazingly purple-y youthful, the wine looks ravishing. Tasting it, though, leaves me a bit less a-flutter: it seems just a bit insubstantial in the mouth at first, quickly hiding behind massive woody tannin and finishing on a slightly sweet note, again managing to taste more expensive than anything else.
In short, this is a wine for a hedge fund manager with a penchant for bling. This wine would be absolutely perfect with a steak dinner at the finest steakhouse in town: I'm thinking El Gaucho in Seattle would sell cases of this to Microsoft marketeers dining prospective clients in town to visit the Executive Briefing Center. Drinking it on its own is a bit of a chore, rather like gargling with lavender water and sawdust, but add a fine cut of meat and even a cigar and now you're talking serious money.
it would be interesting to know how you get a job to judge wines. you should go and do some dirty job asshole.
luca laborde double select is amazing wine by all accounts. fuck you.
I never know how (or indeed whether) to respond to comments like this. So bear with me as I feel my way.
- It continues to amaze me the level of emotion some people attach to wine appreciation and evaluation. I don't mean that wine can't be an emotional experience. Rather, some people appear to become quite upset when contrary opinions are expressed. I'm as passionate about wine as the next guy, but come *on*. Let's not get carried away.
- It appears Serg hasn't tasted the wine in question. On this basis, I'm struggling to understand why he finds the note so objectionable. One can only conclude it contradicts Serg's *idea* of this wine, which is by "all accounts" "amazing." Perhaps I'm not alone in enjoying the irony of this, considering the content of the review.
Better get back to my dirty job.
Cheers,
Julian.