In Search Of The Perfect Wine

This was a great wine, an exceptional wine. It reminded me that this is the reason I collect wine and love wine. This is what it is all about.

Searching for the perfect wine always reminds me of The Perfect Storm: despite all the trial and error, planning and preparation, you still never know what’s going to happen.

Recently, I was dining in San Diego with my friends Dan and Maria from Texas. Dan is a serious Bordeaux collector, and doesn’t like to drink young wine. He can drink great wine at its prime because he’s been collecting long enough to have a cellar full of first and second growths, dating back to 1982.

Dan is also extremely generous, and always brings a great Bordeaux to dinner. However, dining with Dan can be a challenge—trying to find the perfect wine to match what inevitably is a fabulous Bordeaux from a classic vintage.

While I realized that many producers would suffice, I had to pick out the right wine. So I wracked my brain, for what seemed like days, to really understand what variable must exist to open up a great California Cabernet, at the right time?

Napa Valley, along with Bordeaux, makes the best Cabernet in the world. On this point, I really don’t care if anyone has a different opinion.

There are a large number of Napa wineries that make great Cabernet which will age and be fantastic when served at the right time; Araujo, Beringer Private Reserve, Chateau Montelena, Caymus Special Select, Opus, Vineyard 29, and Harlan Estate (just had to sneak that cult wine in there), to name a few.

While trying to avoid a headache from thinking too much about this, I realized, of course, that the trick to choosing my perfect wine was to determine what really was the right time to drink a great California Cab.

When the wine is young, it has loads of fruit and wonderful flavor, but it also has big tannins and is generally not well-balanced and harmonious. While the wine may be delicious, it doesn’t necessarily go well with food, and doesn’t leave you with that sensation in your mouth——you know, that silky feeling of “Oh my God, this is as good as it gets!”

In the past couple years, I’ve found that many of the Napa Cabs from 1985, 1986, and, particularly, 1987 are drinking wonderfully. That said, they are a little past their prime, and have lost a lot of their fruit. While these wines have tremendous mouth feel and complexity, without the great fruit, which is absolutely the trademark of a Napa Valley Cabernet, these older wines are just not the perfect wine.

I started thinking about the great vintages of the 1990's. Regardless of what the critics say, there wasn’t a bad vintage in the 1990's. Critics be damned, 1993 was a decent vintage, just not as good as 1990, 1991, 1992, or any of the vintages that followed. The only other vintage in the 1990's that got panned was 1998 and, many of the 1998 Cabs are drinking fabulously right now. It was a vintage where many grapes were picked early, due to a heat spike, and those never made very good wine. But those winemakers who waited, and there were many, were rewarded with some cool nights, giving the grapes more time to ripen. Those grapes have come together, are now drinking beautifully, and are worth searching out.

I thought a little more. I could smell a little fire burning in my head, which scared me. I realized that the great Napa Cabs generally peak at about 10 years old. Not true for all, (certainly not true for Mayacamas or Dunn Howell Mountain) just a decent general rule with far too many exceptions. Certainly, many Cabs peak on release, or within a few years of release. But those widely regarded as the top, (unfortunately meaning the cost of the wine is frequently over $100 a bottle) generally make wine that will peak at about 10 years.

I needed to test my theory. For our dinner, I brought a 1996 Phelps Insignia. Dan brought a 1989 Leoville Las Cases. I was doomed. This wine, although a second growth, has always been as good as the first growths, from an absolutely classic vintage.

We decanted and immediately tasted both. The Leoville Las Cases had the nose of a classic Bordeaux, with a hint of barnyard, (don’t you love it) combined with a wonderful bouquet of earth and fruit. I knew the wine would be great. Right out of the decanter, the Insignia was elegant, but it was a little tight. I was really nervous.

After 15 minutes, the Las Cases was still quite closed and not ready to drink. The Insignia had opened up sooner and was already beautiful, very elegant, but certainly nowhere near a great wine. I was still nervous.

After 30 minutes, I noticed that Dan was drinking a lot more of the Insignia than the Las Cases. I again tasted both. The Las Cases was still quite closed, and I noticed, for the first time, that it seemed young. At first I thought it strange for a wine almost 17 years old, but, we’re talking about a 1989 Bordeaux, a huge wine with huge tannins, and the Las Cases was not at its prime. On the other hand, the Insignia was amazing—silk in the mouth, yet it still had tons of fruit. While youthful in taste, the Insignia was at its prime.

After one hour, the Insignia was completely open, and was fantastic. The Las Cases was delicious, classic, but it wasn’t as good as the Insignia. Dan liked the Insignia better than the Las Cases, and kept commenting about how he loved the wine. Wow, it blew me away. I had hit a home run.

What happened? At 10 years old, the Insignia, always a great wine (the 2002 was the Wine Spectator Wine of the Year) completely came together; all the essential components of the wine. There was still plenty of fruit, fresh, vibrant, and a little wild, just to add excitement, but under control. Yet, this amazing fruit had harmonized gloriously with the tannins and felt so good on the palate that you just didn’t want to swallow (yeah, that does sound a little naughty). I’m guessing, in another 5 or 10 years, that fruit will dissipate, and the wine won’t taste as fresh.

So, as long as the wine lasted, I sipped the Insignia. I swirled it in my mouth. I kept it there. I never felt the alcohol, not in the front of my tongue, not in the mid-section, and not in the back. I could feel the wine everywhere in my mouth equally, while my entire mouth was being coated at the same time, in the same way, with this glorious nectar. The flavors exploded. This was the perfect wine.

What does this mean? Of course, there is no truly perfect wine. And, as good as it was, there are probably better Napa Cabs then the 1996 Insignia (and I would love to own and drink them). However, this was a great wine, an exceptional wine. Drinking the Insignia reminded me that this is the reason I collect wine and love wine. This is what it is all about.

In searching for the perfect wine, I discovered that perfection is actually an illusion, something we strive for but never really obtain. And I’m thankful because the journey is so very rewarding. Most importantly, I realized, that the wine you drink with your closest friends and family, in an intimate setting where you share your passion with those you love-—now that’s the perfect wine.