Memories of wines I’ve tasted persist, in some instances for a long while. I left Brooklyn — bound for a newspaper job in Abu Dhabi — back in 2008, and a few evenings before my departure I shared a table with a friend at a favorite restaurant near my apartment. I brought along a 1991 Château Pavie, and remember still my first sip of that bottle. Elegant and ethereal, well suited to the weather, cuisine, and occasion. On another evening I was in Paris, at a wine bar in the Marais hanging out with colleagues after work celebrating a milestone publication. The bottle this time was something from the Languedoc, an inexpensive little red wine that likely cost all of 10 euros (a 1999 Château Pavie can be had for $279.99 on FineLiquors.com). These two wines had nothing in common, save their country of origin, and both are indelibly etched in my memory.
That’s what wine, at its best, can do. It allows us to enjoy the moment, the foods we pair with the bottle, the design and sounds of the dining room, the smile of a friend, the profound immediacy. Then, months, years, or decades later, the memory of the wine brings pleasure once again. You have similar memories, I imagine, of bottles and tables and dishes and the people with whom you shared wines and conversation. Sounds and scents and images and tastes and … so much more that might not be knowable to you until one day you are sitting alone at a table in a restaurant and into your mind slides memories of that long-ago dinner and the wines served at it.
I try to keep this in mind when opening a bottle, whether I’m sampling for reviews or sharing, say, a Pfalz riesling with friends at a meal. I know the wine means something in the moment, and the idea that certain wines will sustain me in manner other than in-the-mouth gustatorily gives me pleasure.
Now, on to a new year of tastes, flavors, dinners and dishes, and, of course, memories.
I tasted three different 2023-vintage chardonnays from Bouchaine recently, and winemaker Chris Kajani is, based on my impression of these wines, continuing her astute, intuitive stewardship of the Carneros AVA estate. The lineup included Unoaked ($40), Estate ($40), and Reserve ($70) chardonnays, and I sampled them at one sitting, each bottle chilled to 52 degrees Fahrenheit.
The 2023 growing season was, according to Bouchaine’s team, “a lesson in patience.” A cooler summer led to slower ripening and later harvest — the end of September instead of the more typical late August. The chardonnay fruit had additional time to develop, and that time and quality is well represented in these wines.
The Bouchaine Unoaked chardonnay is suited to those who like to drink wine made from this noble grape devoid of oak influence, malolactic conversion (some winemakers, however, do allow no-oak chardonnay to undergo malo conversion) or bâtonnage. I like wines from Chablis, and I really liked this chardonnay from Napa’s Carneros district. Sweet-tart apple aromas, a touch of lemon blossom and other citrus flavors, fresh, crisp, vibrant, and excellent with grilled shrimp basted with garlic butter — my pairing for dinner on the evening I sampled these Bouchaine wines. Drink now, or hold for a year or two if curious about how it will age. Click here to purchase.
The Estate Chardonnay made by Kajani does see oak, and here’s some specificity from the Bouchaine team: It was bottled on Aug. 5, 2024, and aged for 10 months — 50 percent malolactic conversion, 90 percent barrel fermented, 10 percent tank fermented, 18 percent new oak. Kajani produces more than a dozen chardonnays from the estate’s blocks and blends what she deems the best of them for the final product. I liked this wine’s beguiling combination of richness and vibrance. Oak is not overwhelming, and the mélange of citrus and apple made me very happy. There’s no reason to not serve this with a roast pork loin and share with a few good friends. Click here to purchase.
The final bottle I tasted from this trio was the Reserve Chardonnay. The Bouchaine team said its intention here was “to create a concentrated, lush style of Chardonnay,” and Kajani succeeded in that. It was fermented 100 percent in barrel (38 percent new oak), and aged for nine months. Fruit was harvested from October 16-19, and bottling took place on Aug. 5, 2024; 200 cases were produced. Malolactic conversion is in full force here, along with sur lie aging. Carneros chardonnay is known for its cool-climate leanness and acidity, and that shines in this wine; the symbiotic play of oak and malo conversion and Bouchaine’s 1984-planted chardonnay performs with aplomb here. On the evening following my Bouchaine tasting session I wrapped some sea scallops in jamón Ibérico and seared them, and I drank the Bouchaine Reserve Chardonnay with those scallops. Delicious, sensual interplay. Purchase here.
Another 2023 I sampled recently is the Vazisubani Estate 3 Qvevri, an amber wine from Georgia. It’s a blend of rkatsiteli (15 percent), mtsvane (40 Percent), and kisi (45 percent), grapes identified with the country that many consider the birthplace of wine: research has documented more than 8,000 years of continuous winemaking in the region. Qvevri refers to the clay vessels traditionally used by Georgians; wines are fermented in the vessels underground. This orange wine carries a suggested retail price of $19.99, making it in my opinion a great value. Fruit, from vines planted between 1,500 and 1,800 feet above sea level, was harvested by hand and partially destemmed. Great acidity and robust tannins, dried apricots, green almond, licorice root, orange peel. This sees no oak, but something in the mouth is evocative of baking spices or vanilla. I’d love to drink this wine with a chicken dish featuring a walnut-based sauce.
Rounding out this tasting roster is the Cleto Chiarli “Centenario” Lambrusco di Modena DOC Amabile ($15). I am an avid booster of Lambrusco, and Cleto Chiarli is one of my favorite producers. The Centenario was introduced 100 years after the winery’s 1860 founding, and is 100 percent Lambrusco Grasparossa. Alcohol is 8 percent, so keep that in mind when you are looking for something refreshing to drink with pizza or a hamburger. The high acidity of this wine balances its sweetness in a manner that makes one keep going back for one more sip. The Charmant method is used here, and if you are wondering, “Amabile” refers to a wine that is sweet, but not so sweet that dessert is its only wise pairing. I would, however, have no issue if you chose to open this bottle and drink it with a slice of not-so-sweet chocolate cake. Purchase here.
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