Sublime No. 2 - Twice One Hundred

I would be hard pressed to say exactly what was the highlight of last Saturday’s Italian Wine Dinner. In fact, it’s probably no more possible for me to pick out any one wine, or any one course, any more than I could say that the 2003 Orange victory over Kansas was more gratifying, or more enjoyable, than the following year’s October sweep of the Yankees and the Cardinals. Both were fabulous, and what’s the point of picking one over the other? All I can tell you is that the two wines about which I will post tonight were both unbelievable. In retrospect, I’m amazed I didn’t pass out from pure sensory overload.

We had the chance on Saturday to taste four different wines that had been scored 100 points by Wine Spectator. I would have settled for one. I would have been happy with a few in the mid 90s. But never mind what I would have settled for; this was not a night for modest expectations. Our second course was a white truffle risotto, paired with a 1957 Soldera Reserva Brunello de Montalcino. So let’s do that one at a time. Brunello de Montalcino has become one of the glamour wines of Italy. There are no inexpensive Brunellos; and the whole DOCG thing imposes strict requirements on wineries who produce Brunello. So we’re starting off from a pretty high level. Then it just so happens that, in preparation for Saturday’s dinner, I went online to read up on Italian wines, and came across an article about the most prestigious, the most select wines of all. What was the most exclusive Brunello of all? Soldera. Now I can’t pretend to know anything about 1957, but all I know is that this was one of our 100 point wines.

Before I describe the Brunello, though, let me move ahead to our next wine, the only Super Tuscan of the night. Ornellaia Masseto, another 100 point score from WS. The Super Tuscans are the category of wines which were grown outside the boundaries of the old rigid Italian winemaking rules. For example, in Tuscany, one was supposed to raise Sangiovese, and make Chianti or Brunello or Montepulciano. One was not supposed to grow cabernet, or merlot, or God forbid, blend Sangiovese with one of those French grapes. But vintners began doing that; everyone loved the wines; and the Super Tuscans became so popular, and eventually so prestigious, that the wine bureaucrats relented. Good thing too, because this Masseto was fantastic. It’s 100% merlot, and has become known as the Petrus of Italy, or so says our host. I know some of us are not merlot lovers, but this is the second time in very recent memory that I have tasted a spectacular merlot. Rich, luxurious, infinitely long finish. A really decadent wine. And it was paired with veal roulades, served in a rosemary olive sauce. Fabulous.

Here’s the really interesting thing, however. The Masseto was the most luxurious wine we had all night; and if we had to drink only one wine, I would pick the Masseto. But, despite that, the Brunello went better with food. I think that’s really the key to the great Italian wines. This Brunello was much more austere than the Masetto. It was drier, more understated. But it accompanied its dish better than the bigger and plusher merlot. Now keep in mind, both of these wines were completely spectacular. At this point in the evening I was having trouble concentrating; I couldn’t make small talk, as one is supposed to do at dinner parties. I couldn’t think about anything aside from the sensory explosions that were happening inside my mouth. And this minute distinction between these two wonderful wines was nothing more than an observation, not by any means a critique. It was interesting, however, because it shed light for me on the virtues of Italian wine, and their comparative merit as an accompaniment to good food.

Anyway, if I was in heaven after the first course and the Fiorano, now I had made it up to the fifth or sixth circle of Paradise. Except of course, Dante would not have had anyone in paradise enjoying the pleasures of great wine and food. Only who cares where Dante would have placed us on Saturday night? I only know that the evening wasn’t quite half over; I had tasted one incredible wine after another; and as I was finishing my Masetto, the servers came around and gave each of us three glasses for the next course. Holy moly.