Among the small selection of older wines I acquired late last summer – promptly dubbed “Tom’s Treasures” by Diane – and squirreled away for special occasions, I thought I detected a slight leakage from the capsule of a bottle of 1976 Barbaresco from Produttori del Barbaresco. 1976 was almost 50 years ago, so if the cork was beginning to fail, it could spell doom for the wine. That possible leakage was enough to make me resolve to use that bottle at the first appropriate opportunity.
Well, Diane and I are pretty resourceful at manufacturing occasions for a good wine, so when I recently underwent two successful cataract surgeries, we decided the moment had arrived. We got a fine New York strip steak (thank you, Ottomanelli) and some good mushrooms to accompany it, pulled out of the freezer one of Diane’s excellent three-cheese tarts for a first course, and addressed the worrisome bottle.
Because the wine, if alive at all, might be very fragile, I didn’t pull the cork until we were ready to sit to dinner. It came out with no trouble and seemed sound enough, if quite evidently old. There was very little ullage, so I poured, and we proceeded. The wine was pale, but no paler than many younger Nebbiolos I’ve drunk. It had very little aroma. The first taste showed almost nothing: it didn’t seem dead, by any means, but it just wasn’t giving anything.
The very good news is that that changed quickly. That Barbaresco began opening in the glass, and did so steadily all through the meal. Its aroma, and the flavors on the palate, kept getting bigger and richer. By the time we had drunk that bottle as far down as we dared – there was a substantial layer of sediment – we were relishing a first-rate Piedmontese gem, Nebbiolo at its richest and best.
This was all the more remarkable not just because of this bottle’s age, but also because, according to my memory and all the charts I’ve been able to consult, 1976 wasn’t a very good year at all.
I’ve always admired the Produttori del Barbaresco, as some of the posts I’ve done already this year will attest, but my admiration for their work continues to grow. Bottles like this are monuments to old-school Piedmontese winemaking (in 1976, stainless steel tanks and temperature-controlled fermentation were still new wave in Piedmont) and to the amazing character of the Nebbiolo variety.
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A small teaser for those who follow such things: This bottle was #3 of my small trove of treasures. I have a few more yet to taste, including two Gattinaras (one from the legendary 1961 vintage), a classic Mastroberardino Taurasi, and a real curiosity – a 50 year-old Grignolino. So far, these wines all seem to have been stored very well, so my hopes are high. Stay tuned.
Another great story from the necropolis! 1961 Nebbiolo! A 50 year old grignolino! Tangential question: does Heitz still have grignolino vines, or have they gone the way of…expediency?
Can’t wait to hear about the Gattinara.
best,
Joe
Thanks, Joe. I just don’t know about Heitz’s Grignolino, and I haven’t been able to get any information.
Tom, I’ve realized through experience that old bottles with some seepage and ullage can still be excellent. Recently I brought a couple bottles to a special get together. An 83 Schlossböckelheimer Kupfergrube Auslese by the Hessian State Domaine. And amazingly, a 76 Klosterkeller Siegendorf Gewurztraminer Beerenauslese. Both were superb, especially the Gewurztraminer!
Old Gewurz can be stunning, can’t it?
I’ll be tuning, don’t worry. Your reports are a vicarious pleasure.
Thank you, Mauricio.
Congrats on the successful surgery and on the lovely wine.
Thanks, Jonathan.
Yes have long been a fan. Very reliable and better priced. More proof against all the snobbery against the principal of co-op or negotiant wines. keep drinking. How is Ed ?