A Masterpiece Theater of Pinot
Apr 13
Sharecropper
Pinot Noir 2009
St. Paul, Oregon
14.1%
$25 Bell’s Wine & Spirits
Fat, bold pinot that drinks like a Syrah resides in this rather nondescript, not particularly interestingly labelled bottle. An outstanding, top-of-the-line/bottom-of-the-Pinot-price-range red. 2009 is supposed to be a great year, and it shows…already!
Just open it up and pour.So good, even our KINDLY SOUTHERN GENTLEMAN FRIEND would be willing to drink it. And he hates Pinots. All that to say, it’s nothing like a proper French Pinot Noir at all.
Pretty in the glass, it looks nothing like those weakly brakish reds that make up a proper visual for this earthy grape. I spend my time breathing in and wishing for a mouthful of cherries as the glass reaching up to my nostrils. It’s a bold fruit, maybe black cherries, not Morello, Maraschino, or Rainier. Bing. Bing! That’s it.
Eaten with the SWEET POTATO CAKES and yoghourt sauce by Yotam Ottolenghi, it was a good long viewing of back issues of “Downton Abbey”–the Dowager was in all her swagger and the air was ripe with Pinot essence.
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The next night, I made a grilled pork loin and some loin lamb chops from Iceland the next day. Now I simply cannot recall if I’ve ever told you good folks how off the chain Icelandic lamb is, but it is not a common item in stores here, and except for the late fall (October/November), I cannot recall ever seeing it at Whole Foods. But it puts Colorado or New Zealand lamb to shame.
So exciting to quaff this baby with Icelandic lamb, that I completely forgot about the loin and just hunkered down with my French cuts and in the privacy of my little hobbit hole made a King Henry the VIII’th of it driving my chops into the chops down to the bone. Anne Boleyn would have been proud of me, or mortified, I don’t really know for sure. It was all very MASTERPIECE THEATRE.
Lifting the glass to my nose, the bowl of the glass filled my olfactory system. Creamy red wine the consistency of half and half coats the front, while the mid-palette is hit a little too hard. You can really feel the booze at the mid point.
But by the finish, the fine, almost…is it licorice?…ah, it calls to me, “Liquorish”(!) finish swills down the pipe. I almost dare you to not polish off the bottle with three Icelandic lamb chops in front of you.
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