Three Muskateers show us their ‘Passata-sotto’

I was invited to a very splendid tasting and dinner, last night, by three very different wine importers. Thank god for the dinner, which I was not expecting at all, as I was starving to death. Yes okay not like those children in Biafra, or the families in Syria, or even those poor kids in the northern Argentine province of Chaco, who seem to be dropping like dead flies due to their lack of nourishment. What the hell is wrong with governments these days, or their presidents, prime ministers and leaders of industry. Stop a moment, think, and I mean think with your brain, not with what is in your bombachas, and please either send them seeds so that they can grow good wholesome food again, and eat, and oh and don’t please forget to send them, tons and tons of topsoil. It will not costs you a penny so stop pretending it will. And if the poor little blighters have to wait until their next spring to sow their seeds, then send them also with the seeds, and soil, some decent grub to get on with, and reinforce their will power until then. And not McDonalds shoite or Burger King (thanks Banksy) shoite, but real food. And if you don’t know what that means anymore then contact me via SLOWfood, or here via dis bugga bloggy blog.

So, back to my meek little hunger, yes  that little hole is to be found somewhere between my oesophagus and my lower stomach. Well nothing serious obvio, but enough for me to double take when i entered the ‘salon’, to see baskets of hot bread, baked in the ovens just meters away from my place at the table.

I apologized to the hosts for my late arrival, as the invitation had another address on it, but what the hell, one has become accustomed, a bit, to good old south American organization. So, not wanting to get totally stuck into the bread. My goodness, there was bread with seeds on it, bread baked with a vegetable that turned it’s color orange, bread the size of a mini (but i mean action-man sized) baguettes, bread with the flavor of truffle and a plate of unsalted fresh butter next to it. Heaven!

Then a glass of chilled white wine was offered, and I shlurped it down quietly, whilst catching a wee glimpse of the label. 862 Riseling? I then took a moment to register who the other tasters where and nearly fell off my stool. There was a Nick Cave, a Diego Maradona, a Juan Domingo Peron, a Santiago Andres Maldonado, a Suzana Gimenex (or Z depending which side of the fense you swing), a Mauricia, or Maurico Macri, who really knows the difference these days, and finally an Amado Boudo, who I imagine was released for the evening on ‘day release’ from prison as I had read just  recently that he had been caught red handed, milking the state of an enormaerate amount of U$ cashalloni.

Well not wanting to prejudge the present company, I decided to concentrate on the wines and to get stuck into them with gusto and not pay too much attention to the blabber going on around me. The wines followed as thus, each time followed with a plate of nosh, that would put the Michelin man on a diet if he could even manage what we did do.

2013 Staffelter Hof ‘862’ Riesling Troken, from 80 year old vines.
A still young, fresh and clean Riesling nose. Citrus and apples abound. More citrus and peach to be found on the nose. A touch of white plum and well balanced all the way through. A delight. We nibbled on ‘Croquetas de Bacalao’. Lots of them.

2013 Meursault Villages from the good old Louis Latour stable.
More freshness and richness here on the nose. A weightiness of a little oak age Chard. of course, and really a ‘good bottle’. A bright acidity enveloping a balanced cocktail of lemons, green melon and hazelnuts. I am going to write this bit without thinking. When a plate of ‘Bife de Calamar Gigante’ is put infront of you at this noshery. I could not give a dam wether Robert Parker is still alive or not, or wether the price of Petrus bla bla bla is this or that. This is a Mozartian dish, for the whole of your goddam life. And of course not to be totally vintage circumsized, it was followed now by a Cote d’Or favorite of mine.

2013 Vosne-Romanee, Louis Latour
Lovely clean cherries, some blackberry and spice. Silky smooth (to be honest with you, I could probably drink a whole bottle of this on my own) and really firm on the finish. Ah yes, Risotto with some mushroomy, truffle thing. I am still dreaming about the previous grilled Jules Verne deep sea monster, sorry about that.

Well, next up was a young goat and a little polenta. I forgot about the wine there for a minute. My god the goat was brilliant and so was the wine offered to go with it. Antinori’s, Tignanello 2012. Super dooper Tuscan of course.

A right proper Tuscan gentleman at that. Stop it William. This was, suprsingly, my red wine of the evening. Elegant structure both on the nose and in the mouth. Blue tuscan flowers (I cannot remember what they are called), red dark berries and spices. That’s just the nose. On the palate, young crushed raspberry and cloves. Some licorice and white pepper. When I last drank Tignanello, okay admittedly it was some years ago. It was all a bit light and boring. Times have changed for the better. This is another level of a Tig. Bravissimo!

2007 Ygay! Marques de Murrieta’s Gran Reserva Especial
Yes, it’s good old Spanish Rioja. And for all you Rioja, Tempranillo freaks, sure you gonna love it. Another freshy, with lavender and rosemary on the nose. Big polished Rioja creaminess. Almost over polished if you will allow me. I do know from the soul mate at the table that there is a decent wedge of Mazuelo in the blend, maybe 10%. Well thank god for that, as really it is so dam drinkable, I would need a bucket of it in the kitchen just to get me through my next dinner party. Oopps, nearly forgot the cheese board. All good, I promise you.

2010 Riesling Auslese from the HOF, Staffelter
Two, little, pointy bottles (37.5cl) appeared which meant we were going to get stuck into the sweetie of the evening.

Both were halves and were the same wine. Yes, they were juicy, honeyed, peary with a hint of gooseberry to cut the sweetness. I could drink this for breakfast everyday for the rest of my life. Sorry, I forgot what the pudding was. But I do know that it had some ‘quinoto’ in it. As I also grow them on my balcony, and so of course have an interest. Alas, the wine took over.

No thanks to coffee & bits. Need to go for a smoke and home. No nooooo. There are more corks popping. I really thought it was all over as the lushness of this breakfast baby bottle, was just perfect to finish with. Uppa, another German is put on the table.

2014 Schloss Vollrads Riesling
All 75cls of it, reared it’s bone dry head and can you believe it, an exotic dry-mango fruit salad finish. There must be a reason for this unnecessary palate cleanser and yes, here it came.

2011 Corton Charlemagne Bonneau de Martray, excuse me, I mean Domaine Louis Latour was poured into a decanter, to finally round off the evening. Golden yellow color with an intense nose. Rounded and more gold on the palate. Vanilla, almond and ripe Chardonnay balanced with citrus acidity.

Now, please I must walk, home. I enjoyed all of the wines a lot. A really esoteric bunch. Not just for their content but for their geographical position in the world, and drunk down here. The table company (present) seemed to be obsessed with the idea that if they talked only about money and Parker scores, that they would have a good evening. Yawnnnn! Sorry, but little old me just cannot even begin to enter into that anymore. I aint got the strength. It must be an age thing? So, fortunately for me, I found a like minded soul at the table, and we did our best to anti-capitalize the evening, and enjoy the wine and food for what it was. And it was, indeed, all super!