Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Burgundian Tongue Twister (or My Sweet Morphine)

Guys, bare with me. This one is gonna be a Burgundian tongue twister. I will be name-dropping more than an aspiring rapper backstage trying to get into one of Rihanna's dancer's panties.

A week before packing our bags for our annual Texan romp, we spent an electrifying evening at Vinocultura, unarguably Nicosia's best wine bar, sampling relatively pricy (for The Wife, Ph.D.'s tight standards) French wines. Involved were the usual suspects (The Wife, Ph.D., The Godmother and My Zolpidem Supplier) plus Mr. Mars, a UVA grad I ball with twice a week and who sometimes plays defense like a coked-up ferret, and four other random attendees who were also addicted passionate enough to cough up the 55 Euro tasting fee for an eight wine line-up. Andrew De Petro, Vinocultura's sommelier, and Andreas Kyprianou, mastermind behind the popular joint, were there to guide us through the tasting and provided us with an informative leaflet on Burgundy's history, terroir, main grape varieties and climate.

We gathered around a long table in the establishment's cellar, a modern and well-lit room lined with glass and a view into the chic bar and restaurant. Two color-coded maps of what is probably the most intricate and confusing wine region in the world—one in which terroir legitimately counts—stretched out before us. The pop of a bottle of Simmonet-Febvre Crémant de Bourgogne Brut Rosé, a fruity (strawberry juice comes to mind) and off-dry sparkler from Chablis, kick-started the party and served as segue into the white portion of the event. The 2010 Louis Latour Pouilly-Fuissé AOC was fatty yet clean and full of stonefruit and minerality on the palate, while the 2006 Louis Latour Chassagne-Montrachet Premier Cru, a creamy and complex wine, showed touches of baked pears and apples, funk, smokiness, mustard seed and minerals, and warmly tickled my innards for minutes at a time. Almost exactly like the time I was forced to step outside of my marriage to alcohol and experience my sweet Morphine in all of her splendorous nudity while a Southern California surfer-cum-surgeon took a scalpel to my [insert body part you'd least want someone to come at with a sharp instrument.]

I adore Pinot Noir so I was giddy in anticipation of the reds. The outstanding 2009 Henry Fessy Fleurie Beaujolais Cru (Top 100 for 2011 by Wine Enthusiast) made of the Gamay varietal was reminiscent of baked raspberries, strawberries, and cherries, and included lovely floral and coffee notes. The Wife, Ph.D., waxed nostalgic and remarked that the wine tasted "like Thanksgiving," a celebration near and dear to her (Americanized) heart. Next up, the 2009 Louis Latour Mercurey AMC with hints of leather and game on the nose but cherry juice and a bit of balsamic vinegar that sang through the palate, and the 2007 Louis Latour Nuits St. Georges Premier Cru with its silky tannins and flavors of dark berries, pepper and tomatoes.

By now, already quite merry, the boldest of the random attendees asked for food. Out from the small kitchen came platters stacked with charcuterie, four different types of cheese and breads. Cooked items included foie gras wrapped in prosciutto, a sweet macaroon topped with pâte, cookie crumbs, dried cranberries and lime foam, and a lamb cutlet on a phyllo crostini that certainly was the culinary highlight of the evening thanks to its simplicity and tenderness. Kudos to chefs Petros Andrianou and Jorge Perez for the inventive and tasty dishes.

Bellies satiated and prepared to absorb more alcohol, we moved to the soiree's juggernauts. The 2008 Louis Latour "Domaine Latour" Aloxe-Corton had bigger tannins, a bitter finish and recalled leather, game, spice and menthol to the taste buds. The 1999 Louis Latour "Domaine Latour" Corton Grand Cru, the only Grand Cru of the night and supposed grand finale, was by far the smoothest and most interesting of the bunch, red fruit that matched nicely with funky gaminess, savoriness and herbal components.

Now in overdrive, the boldest of the attendees asked for one more bottle that subsequently became two more bottles, a final tab of 70 Euros per imbiber and a four-hour tasting session of predominantly 90+ wines. The 2004 Michel Picard Pommard "Les Clos Micot" Vineyard Premier Cru did not impress me as much as the previous wines; I found the transitions from start to finish a bit off and it lacked the depth of the Corton Grand Cru. Then came the 2001 Louis Jadot Pommard Rugiens Premier Cru, a very masculine wine with wonderful meatiness (smoked bacon and leather), red fruit and clove-like spice and a long vegetable, herbal finish.

Our wondrous time with our Burgundian seductresses was over. We had eaten and drank well in the company of fancy friends and intriguingly cooky strangers in an intimate and convivial setting. Later that night, the wine still buzzing through my body like electricity, a heartbroken Morphine appeared before me in a dream and resignedly told me it was over between us. Can't blame the gal.

Whine On The Rocks Rating: 5 out of 5 Sparkling Spatulas


Felcy said...

Wonderful blog & good post.Its really helpful for me, awaiting for more new post. Keep Blogging!

Morphine Addiction

Mateo Jarrin Cuvi said...

Thanks Felcy. Happy drinking!

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