Goin' Down Memory Row

Yeah, it's supposed to be "lane", I know, but in a vineyard it's a row.

So lately I've been drinking wine in the cellar more than wine from the store or wine bar. I am doing my part in this economic crunch, and so I drink/taste what I have, and save the money for the dental bill, phone bill, electric bill, so on. I find myself remebering past days, events and people through this experience, then run to my facebook, or twitter account, to see where the lost friends are, what are they up to, how has time treated them? I remember, and the memories often raise my appraisal of the wine.

Time and wine are not always friendly. I was told from the earliest wine courses, the enemies of fine wine are Air, Light, Temperature and Time. All too often I see that lost soldier in the corner of the cellar, forgotten, has lost the battle with these enemies, and me as the proverbial Calvary, rode in way too late. It has become one of the reasons I don't cellar my wines very often any more. The adage, "It is a far greater crime to drink a wine too old than too young", rings out every time I taste one of these lost units. Like some forgotten misfit in the French Foreign Legion. Lost in a desert of newer wines to be tasted and evaluated and celebrated, we ring in the new vintage and new release far more than we celebrate lost vintages that have offered memorable experiences with comrades long forgotten as well.

The recent vintage for me has been a series of 1992 California Wines. Made during a time when we were enamoured with new, heavy toasted oak, Chardonnay, Pinot Noir, Cabernet; just about anything that was fermentable, had some percentage of barrel fermentation blended into it. When studies started to show that Americans were not cellaring as often, wines were being consumed more immediately, the cost of oak was going through the roof, and guess what, certain varietals tasted better with lighter or no oak; these styles of wine started to get the tag of "rustic" and began to disappear from the market.

So now the 92's are 16+ years, upon this writing we haven't reached harvest and they are not quite 17. Considered teenagers in another time, these wines are now old soldiers. Who has 16 year old wines laying around other than a wine geek in the industry anyway? Geezers by some standards, are they even worth the cork? Well, I am here to say, so far so good. 1992 came in being touted as another great vintage from California, we weren't aware yet of what 1994 or 1997 was to bring. The 92 vintage was marked by a mild winter, an early spring bud break, and hot summer temperatures. Harvest was the earliest on record by almost a month. The whites were harvested in early August and the reds kept coming through September. Rains in October came earlier than normal, but mostly everything was harvested by this time.

From everything I have tasted so far, the heavy oak has dissipated, the fruit has muted some and they are more integrated than when they were younger. Ready to drink, yes, still have some time left, yes. How much is the question. I won't reduce this to a specific wine produced here by that winemaker, with that vineyard in this method. My point is that I should not have stopped cellaring. Styles be damned, oak or no oak, it is about moments in time, the people I knew, the times we shared, the hope we had, not at all about the weather, the vintage quality, or the producer.

This was a time when men like Robert Mondavi, Robert Pepi,Joe Heitz,Justin Meyer, and Charlie Wagner were at the height of the game in the Napa Valley. New Zealand, South Africa, Chilean and Australian wineries were just beginning to make their U.S. push and writers all over the U.S. were touting the equality dare I say superiority of the Great California Wines vs their Euro counter parts. We were beginning an economic uplift which saw the proliferation of everything from tiny cell phones to the green tea explosion and life was rockin' good. It was a good year, One that I remember fondly as I taste another soldier of that lost legion, and I remark how good it is in my mind, in the glass.