Michael Fridjhon: November 2007
Author:
Michael Fridjhon
Published: 28 Nov 07
Wine critic and writer Michael Fridjhon recalls the more memorable wines he has drunk. It is a delusion to believe that white wine does not age. True, there are some
varieties for which the passage of time adds nothing and finally begins to take
away the charm of youth. There are also others which, if planted in the wrong
places, come to bottle with only a dwarfed potential. But the greatest whites,
made from the noblest grapes sourced from the best sites, have the potential
to outrun (rather than merely to outlast) some of the greatest reds.
Warmth is not a friend of these wines. The fresher the climate of the zone of production, the more likely they will evolve slowly in the bottle. The cooler the cellar in which they have been stored, the more gradual - and more substantial - their transformation from primary-fruited liquid refreshment to the dank and mysterious treasure which is the white wine lover's Taj Mahal.
It is not surprising that the greatest of the age-worthy dry white wines come from sites which are generally at the greatest distance from the equator. It is not only the sweet wines of Germany, preserved in their cloak of sugar, that profit from their proximity to the northern lights. Dry Rieslings, Gruner Veltliners, Loire Chenins Blanc and white Burgundies can all reveal an age-worthiness which beggars the imagination of even the most committed oenophile.
Noel Pinguet brought some of the older Huet wines to the 2005 WINE Experience. Vintages such as the 1962 and 1953 offered proof of the maturation potential of the great Loire Chenins made by his father-in-law Gaston Huet. Still, it was the miraculous quality of the 1924 - described by one guest as "fairy juice" - which reminded me of an anecdote which Madame de Jessey at Domaine de Closel shared. We had been discussing the seeming immortality of Savennières, the appellation in which her family had produced wine for centuries. She told me that in the early 1950s the Savennières Association had been launched and her father had offered to provide wine for the inaugural banquet. "How many of us will there be at the dinner?" he had asked. "About 120," had been the reply. "I think I have enough of the 1850 for the occasion," he said.
In the mid-1990s the UK Masters of Wine undertook their first trip to South Africa since 1977. I conducted the inaugural lecture and tasting and set a context - historical and contemporary - of the Cape Wine industry. I tracked down some old classic Cape wines, as well as the then current examples attracting media attention. In the midst of some fine Cabernets from the 1960s I interspersed a few white wines. There were a couple of fine Crouchen Blancs (so-called Cape Rieslings) from the 1970s, notably the 1974 Uiterwyk and a Zonnebloem of much the same age. The great surprise, however, was a 1978 Oude Libertas Dry Steen.
That night it batted - not just for South Africa, but for the virtues of old white wines everywhere. Rich yet dry, robust yet layered with infinite dimension - it seduced the guests. Despite nearly two decades of age it was showing no signs of tiring. Muscular though refined, penetrating yet polished, substantial yet evanescent, it set a benchmark that would only again seem familiar tasting the great Gaston Huet whites. Like the 1924 Vouvray, the Oude Libertas Dry Steen was well advanced on the plateau of maturity. However, it was served at that most ideal moment of its existence - transformed fully into the "fairy juice" for which those of us who age white wine spend a lifetime in anticipation.<
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Warmth is not a friend of these wines. The fresher the climate of the zone of production, the more likely they will evolve slowly in the bottle. The cooler the cellar in which they have been stored, the more gradual - and more substantial - their transformation from primary-fruited liquid refreshment to the dank and mysterious treasure which is the white wine lover's Taj Mahal.
It is not surprising that the greatest of the age-worthy dry white wines come from sites which are generally at the greatest distance from the equator. It is not only the sweet wines of Germany, preserved in their cloak of sugar, that profit from their proximity to the northern lights. Dry Rieslings, Gruner Veltliners, Loire Chenins Blanc and white Burgundies can all reveal an age-worthiness which beggars the imagination of even the most committed oenophile.
Noel Pinguet brought some of the older Huet wines to the 2005 WINE Experience. Vintages such as the 1962 and 1953 offered proof of the maturation potential of the great Loire Chenins made by his father-in-law Gaston Huet. Still, it was the miraculous quality of the 1924 - described by one guest as "fairy juice" - which reminded me of an anecdote which Madame de Jessey at Domaine de Closel shared. We had been discussing the seeming immortality of Savennières, the appellation in which her family had produced wine for centuries. She told me that in the early 1950s the Savennières Association had been launched and her father had offered to provide wine for the inaugural banquet. "How many of us will there be at the dinner?" he had asked. "About 120," had been the reply. "I think I have enough of the 1850 for the occasion," he said.
In the mid-1990s the UK Masters of Wine undertook their first trip to South Africa since 1977. I conducted the inaugural lecture and tasting and set a context - historical and contemporary - of the Cape Wine industry. I tracked down some old classic Cape wines, as well as the then current examples attracting media attention. In the midst of some fine Cabernets from the 1960s I interspersed a few white wines. There were a couple of fine Crouchen Blancs (so-called Cape Rieslings) from the 1970s, notably the 1974 Uiterwyk and a Zonnebloem of much the same age. The great surprise, however, was a 1978 Oude Libertas Dry Steen.
That night it batted - not just for South Africa, but for the virtues of old white wines everywhere. Rich yet dry, robust yet layered with infinite dimension - it seduced the guests. Despite nearly two decades of age it was showing no signs of tiring. Muscular though refined, penetrating yet polished, substantial yet evanescent, it set a benchmark that would only again seem familiar tasting the great Gaston Huet whites. Like the 1924 Vouvray, the Oude Libertas Dry Steen was well advanced on the plateau of maturity. However, it was served at that most ideal moment of its existence - transformed fully into the "fairy juice" for which those of us who age white wine spend a lifetime in anticipation.<
