Light and Thin.
Now this would probably be a compliment if I were talking about a white wine, but since I am talking about red maybe not so much. Interestingly enough, when I first poured the wine, it had almost no nose and very little flavor, time and a bit of warming up fixed that (the whole wine fridge being stuck at 52 thing and all…).
Once it had a bit to open up, it got a bit better, but I am still going to stick with the light and thin comment. Honestly, I cant think of any other way to describe it, and in its defense, the thinness is a gliding, dancing thinness rather than the anemic fragility that plagues, say a Pinot or a Tempranillo. Which at least makes for some semblance of depth of character, but it's a bit like second place, sure you gave it your all...but you still didn't win.
What this wine lacks, unfortunately, is perhaps what I crave most in wine, and what keeps me opening cork upon cork; mystery, depth, a sense of exploration. There are wines that when you drink them, defy understanding on the first taste. They require study, exploration, spelunking through the caverns of complexity that they offer. This is what I seek (well…at least when I am not just drinking for the sake of it), and what this wine fails to provide me with.
I realize, that I have said more about what the wine is not, rather than what it is; I shall correct that now. It’s light, it’s definitely French, and at temperature, it makes for decent sipping wine.
The bottom line: This wine fails to inspire me, I’m not sure I would pick it over the Concannon, or my new love the Neprica (I promise we’ll review that soon. We’ve tried to twice but ended up having such a great time hanging out and enjoying it that it just hasn’t happened yet), but the Plaisir d'Eulalie doesn’t suck, and we didn’t pour it out. I'll label it decent, but not my thing.
Showing posts with label Frenchy French. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Frenchy French. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Sunday, November 15, 2009
2006 Chateau Lamothe de Haux Bordeaux Rouge
So sometimes, a wine needs to open up a bit before you truly can enjoy it. You know that kind of wine? This one isn’t it. Now, that’s not to say that a little air, a little warmth, a little time hasn’t effected it, they did, and unfortunately it made it suck a bit more than it did when I tried at a 55 degrees.
So I am going to do two reviews. It’s like a twofer for you my beloved readers.
Review 1. Wine straight out of the wine fridge and a mellow 55 degrees (Yes I am aware that’s too cold, but the thermostat on the fridge doesn’t work, and they are expensive, so unless you are going to send me a big fat check for a new one, that’s the temperature this wine is getting reviewed at).
zzzzzZZZzzzzZZzzzzZZzzzzz
It was like a non-wine really, a grape colored slightly alcoholic starter wine for those who are afraid of flavor. Hardly any nose to speak of, with a watery semi-grape smell. The color was decent, on the red side of thing (as opposed to the purple). I think the tap water I was drinking actually had more flavor then it did.
Review 2. 35-40 minutes later after dinner.
It was like things went from bad to worse, excepting, of course, that it wasn’t really bad before hand, just kind of “meh”. So, I guess that’s from meh to bad then, or is that from meh to worse? Details.... Once opened up it moved from no nose, to a decided aroma of wet leaves. Not wet leaves in that “gee isn’t fall great” kind of way, but more like in that “what’s that smell” kind of way. The flavor went from “upfront, short and unremarkable” to a slow lingering tannic assault that besmirches the good name of all of the wines that have gone before it.
Fine…..maybe that last sentence was pure literary hyperbole so that I can flex my previously declared universal poetic license, but suffice to say the wine just isn’t really that good. In fact, if you ever decide to try this wine, maybe have a shot of tequila or three first, I suspect it will heighten the enjoyment immensely.
So I am going to do two reviews. It’s like a twofer for you my beloved readers.
Review 1. Wine straight out of the wine fridge and a mellow 55 degrees (Yes I am aware that’s too cold, but the thermostat on the fridge doesn’t work, and they are expensive, so unless you are going to send me a big fat check for a new one, that’s the temperature this wine is getting reviewed at).
zzzzzZZZzzzzZZzzzzZZzzzzz
It was like a non-wine really, a grape colored slightly alcoholic starter wine for those who are afraid of flavor. Hardly any nose to speak of, with a watery semi-grape smell. The color was decent, on the red side of thing (as opposed to the purple). I think the tap water I was drinking actually had more flavor then it did.
Review 2. 35-40 minutes later after dinner.
It was like things went from bad to worse, excepting, of course, that it wasn’t really bad before hand, just kind of “meh”. So, I guess that’s from meh to bad then, or is that from meh to worse? Details.... Once opened up it moved from no nose, to a decided aroma of wet leaves. Not wet leaves in that “gee isn’t fall great” kind of way, but more like in that “what’s that smell” kind of way. The flavor went from “upfront, short and unremarkable” to a slow lingering tannic assault that besmirches the good name of all of the wines that have gone before it.
Fine…..maybe that last sentence was pure literary hyperbole so that I can flex my previously declared universal poetic license, but suffice to say the wine just isn’t really that good. In fact, if you ever decide to try this wine, maybe have a shot of tequila or three first, I suspect it will heighten the enjoyment immensely.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
2007 Marcel Lapierre Morgon
Frenchy French…that’s the call.
When we were looking for a wine to drink tonight, three candidates came to mind a tempranillo, a super Tuscan, and the frenchy French wine. (2007 Marcel Lapierre Morgon for those of you who demand proper accrediting and naming).
Its always fun to open a French wine, there aren’t usually a lot of details on the label, its not always clear what’s in it and this one had a wax dipped top. Bonus! Now that wax dipped top might look nice and all, but frankly, its just a pain in the ass when you are trying to get the thing open. Don’t get me wrong here…. I’m not calling for a screw top revolution, but hey…a foil covered cork just works. It satisfies the ritual elements of opening the wine, without too much hassle, it’s just a nice balance. Yes, yes…tangents, I know.
After going down to the garage for a sawzall, blowtorch and the Jaws of Life to free the cork from its wax tomb, we were ready to pour. Hi, first shock of the night, this wine was a very very light red.
“Is this a rose?” I asked
“I don’t think so” she replied
It’s a tarp!
Ok…ok.. It’s not a rose, its just so damned light it would make a pinot look like a cab. While light, it’s certainly got the distinct brown hue typical of French wines, ready to get to drinking, I raised the glass and swirled. The nose left a lot to be desired, well…that’s assuming that you don’t find the smell of pure rubbing alcohol a pleasant aroma for a wine. The heavy chemical scent aside, the nose was short, without many of the typical fruit flavors, perhaps a slight smoky and earthy nose.
Time for the drinking. Well, dear readers, for the second week in a row, you have been spared from me writing sonnets. It’s interesting; I’ll give it that. Good? Sure…great? Not really. The nose followed through to the pallet, it’s a bit heavy on the alcohol (Yes, I am aware of the irony of me complaining about that, thanks). Past that is where it starts to get interesting. It has that undeniable French mystique that certain “je ne sais quoi”. We actually crushed the bottle of wine in our effort to take its full measure.
It's smooth, it's pleasant on the palette and it's very light on the tannins. I’m not sure I would go out and order it again, but I don’t feel like this research was in vain. If you want an odd wine, and don’t mind turpentine, I’d say give it a go, but honestly there are better things out there to drink. The only caveat to that I have is this; I would love to find an older version of this wine. I think with maturity it might just have enough going on to move it from nondescript to more please.
Pairing note: Smoked Gouda Grilled cheese sammich and tater tots.
When we were looking for a wine to drink tonight, three candidates came to mind a tempranillo, a super Tuscan, and the frenchy French wine. (2007 Marcel Lapierre Morgon for those of you who demand proper accrediting and naming).
Its always fun to open a French wine, there aren’t usually a lot of details on the label, its not always clear what’s in it and this one had a wax dipped top. Bonus! Now that wax dipped top might look nice and all, but frankly, its just a pain in the ass when you are trying to get the thing open. Don’t get me wrong here…. I’m not calling for a screw top revolution, but hey…a foil covered cork just works. It satisfies the ritual elements of opening the wine, without too much hassle, it’s just a nice balance. Yes, yes…tangents, I know.
After going down to the garage for a sawzall, blowtorch and the Jaws of Life to free the cork from its wax tomb, we were ready to pour. Hi, first shock of the night, this wine was a very very light red.
“Is this a rose?” I asked
“I don’t think so” she replied
It’s a tarp!
Ok…ok.. It’s not a rose, its just so damned light it would make a pinot look like a cab. While light, it’s certainly got the distinct brown hue typical of French wines, ready to get to drinking, I raised the glass and swirled. The nose left a lot to be desired, well…that’s assuming that you don’t find the smell of pure rubbing alcohol a pleasant aroma for a wine. The heavy chemical scent aside, the nose was short, without many of the typical fruit flavors, perhaps a slight smoky and earthy nose.
Time for the drinking. Well, dear readers, for the second week in a row, you have been spared from me writing sonnets. It’s interesting; I’ll give it that. Good? Sure…great? Not really. The nose followed through to the pallet, it’s a bit heavy on the alcohol (Yes, I am aware of the irony of me complaining about that, thanks). Past that is where it starts to get interesting. It has that undeniable French mystique that certain “je ne sais quoi”. We actually crushed the bottle of wine in our effort to take its full measure.
It's smooth, it's pleasant on the palette and it's very light on the tannins. I’m not sure I would go out and order it again, but I don’t feel like this research was in vain. If you want an odd wine, and don’t mind turpentine, I’d say give it a go, but honestly there are better things out there to drink. The only caveat to that I have is this; I would love to find an older version of this wine. I think with maturity it might just have enough going on to move it from nondescript to more please.
Pairing note: Smoked Gouda Grilled cheese sammich and tater tots.
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