Cellar report: '01 Mas des Chimeres Coteaux du Languedoc; '99 Monchiero Barolo "Montanello"

The life I lead is not so bad. A perfect example of how good it can get was last weekend's dinner at my sister's, where not only were the rib-eyes char-grilled beefy perfection, the two bottles of red wine that accompanied said meat did most definitely not suck. How not sucky were they? Read on, oh thirsty peeps, and see what 20 years of combined cellar time has wrought....

2001 MAS DES CHIMERES Coteaux du Languedoc
This was a bottle pulled out my sis and bro-in-law's basement, one they have coddled for the last six years. The Mas des Chimeres has, in the 10+ years I've been hanging out schlepping grape based beverage at the wine shack, annually been one of my favorite bottles. Not just because I adore wines from the south of France for all their earthy, rich, complex garrigue infused aromas and flavors, but because winemaker Guilhem Dardé obviously tends his family's vineyards just outside the village of Octon in France's vast Languedoc region with meticulous care. A blend of 70% Syrah, 20% Grenache and 5% each Cinsault and Mourvedre, it never seems to disappoint, especially given a few years of loving care in the cellar...or basement...or closet. The 2001 we poured didn't just live up to my hopes and expectations, it blew them away. The aromas had the classic Chimeres blackberry, white pepper, and dirt notes. Then when I took that first sip the word that popped into my head was "thick". Like having a glass of luscious blackberry jam in liquid form, only instead of slathering toast with it you're washing down hunks of meat. 2001 wasn't considered a great vintage in the south, but over the last few years this has put on weight, and is drinking absolutely beautifully with layers and layers of fruit, a tannic structure that has melded perfectly with the fruit, and this freakishly long finish. This is one of those crazy bottles that punched you in the palate when it was first opened, then just kept landing haymakers as it sat in the glass and blossomed. If anyone ever wants top know why the hell you would stick wine away in a dark basement instead of slurping it down on release, all they'd need to do is take one taste of this nectar. The best part- I still have a bottle in my own basement to ensure future happiness!

1999 MONCHIERO Barolo Riserva "Montanello"
This was a bottle I brought with to pop open. I told you we were drinking like kings! Barolo from Piedmont is at the top of Italy's wine heap along with its sister Barbaresco and Tuscany's great Brunello di Montalcino. Both Barolo and Barbaresco are made from 100% nebbiolo, and give you a sensory overload like no other red wine. It may be the only food & beverage related product in the world where if you use the term "barnyard" to describe it, it is a great compliment. In my mind Barolo from good vintages needs at least ten years to really show its stuff. Young, they tend to be tight, wound up, tannic wines. They're like people who take time to get to know. With age they finally relax and show all the goodness that has been hiding underneath that curmudgeonly exterior. 1999 was an excellent Piedmontese vintage. This single-vineyard Monchiero, produced at the family run winery in the village of Castiglione Falleto, showed all that vintages quality, and was still surprisingly youthful. Dark cherries, rose petals cedar, spice, and yes that stinky good barnyard aroma came flowing at you. The flavor echoed those sensations, but I think this beauty is still a good five years away from its peak. It's all there and all good, it only needs time. Since I have a couple more of the '99s left at home and plenty of other bottles to distract me, I think I can wait!

Cellar Report: 1997 and 2001 Brezza Barolos

I could just bottom line both of these and say they are really freaking good. In fact, maybe those nose-in-the-air...or in this case in-the-glass....publications like the Wine Spectator would probably be well-served if they started saying things like that. But god forbid they appeal to anyone but boring wine dorks. Editorial rants aside, I found myself fortunate enough in the last week to have both of these pinnacles of Italian winemaking art.

A quick lesson that will leave you as smart as 98% of wine geeks: Barolo is a small appellation in northwestern Italy's Piedmont region (the orange blotch on Italy in the map at right). It is made from 100% nebbiolo grapes and along with it's more feminine styled fraternal twin from the Barbaresco region (also made from 100% nebbiolo) are two of the greatest Italian red wines. In fact two of the greatest wines in the world. The Brezzas I was loving come from the small family firm Giacomo Brezza, an old school producer located in the town of Barolo in the Barolo appellation. Follow me so far? Yeah, right!

Okay then, two Barolos from two vintages considered well above average. I found the 2001 Brezza on a local wine distributors price list at a crazy price and brought it into the wine shack. In a great act of altruism I took one home and opened it to be sure it would be acceptable to my valued clientele. The 2001 was, in a word, young. A baby. An infant that has barely learned to vocalize and will need years to be able to communicate all it has to share with the world. Tight, tannic, with cherry, floral notes, and earthy, tarry aromas and flavors barely....just barely....starting to peek out. 2001 was a CLASSIC vintage, with fruit, tannins, and acidity in perfect balance, destined to sing like ABBA at the height of their powers. Oh, wait, bad analogy. ABBA sucks. But you know what I mean. These reds, especially the Barolos and Barbarescos, will need a minimum of ten years to really start throwing their weight around the wine world. The Brezza 2001 is all about potential, and it has boatloads!

The 1997 was another beast all together. It was a single vineyard wine from their Sarmassa vineyard. The 1997 vintage, not quite as good as 2001, was known for a lot of heat, which led to a lot of ripe fruit. These '97s are more near term wines (I know, calling any ten year old wine "near term" is kind of stupid), but they don't have the potential to go 15-20 years like the 2001s. We shared this bottle at dinner wth friends the other night, and it was nebbiolo nirvana at it finest. Drinking perfectly right now, with most of its hard edges whittled away leaving behind beautiful, heady aromas and flavors....first off a leathery earthiness, followed by mellow cherry, blackberry fruit, hints of that same tar that nebbiolo is known for (sounds weird, I know, but it is amazing), followed by rose petals and spice. On the palate this was intense, mouthfilling, the kind of wine that is the reason I have all those bottles laying around the basement. So smooth, with a long, luscious finish that echoed all of the pleasures listed above. A perfectly delicious wine, so good, so ITALIAN! One of those wines that when you taste it you know it could come from nowhere else (when wine doofuses talk about terroir, that is what they mean). It really won't get any better, so if you have any 1997s hanging around, you'd best be popping corks!

Cellar report: 1990 Produttori del Barbaresco "Rabaja" Barbaresco

"Just because one is out in the wild doesn't mean one has to act wild."

Truer words were never spoken, especially since I was the one who spoke them. Which is why when I find myself on a camping trip, there are certain amenities I feel must come along. For our last car camping trip, two of those necessities were the makings for Campground Carbonara and a bottle of 1990 Produttori del Barbaresco "Rabaja" Barbaresco. Oh, and a couple of Stolzle burgundy wine glasses to make sure the wine had every chance to show its stuff!

I knew the carbonara would be stellar, as I was using Marcella's perfect recipe and had everything pre-prepped and in the cooler (btw- if you've never eaten spaghetti with a "spork", you're in for a treat!). The '90 Barbaresco was another matter. 1990 was a stellar year in Italy's Piedmont, the nebbiolo grapes achieving near perfect ripeness levels. But still, I hadn't had a bottle of '90 for years and years, so was hoping for the best. As it turned out, I shouldn't have worried. This was an absolutely awesome bottle of vino rosso. Pouring it into the glasses I could already get whiffs of ripe blackberries, and when I really got my nose into it that scent and more...earth, spice, smoke, tar...all came rushing out. With the first sip I knew we were in for a treat. This had that perfectly aged taste, but didn't taste old at all. Hard to describe, but you know it when you taste it. All the sensations from the nose came through, but with even more intensity. This was so complete, the beginning, middle, and long, long finish meshing perfectly. The tannins weren't tired at all, and the acidity was still fresh and vibrant. And it all just got better and better as the wine sat open. Barbaresco at its absolute peak, what all wines wish they could grow up to be! If you ever have a chance to try a well-stored 15 or 20 year old bottle of Barbaresco or Barolo, promise me you won't say no. After about two hours we finished it while sitting around our campfire, listening to the river rush by. Roughing it, indeed!