So two days after the amazing Swan 99 Mouvedre, a large sip of the 2001 Domaine La Suffrene sits in my mouth and wonders what I'm going to do next. I wonder too. It's not a Swan or even a duck pretending to be one. It's just a big, alcoholic wine made out of mouvedre. I get: burnt nose, restrained berry fruit on pretty full body, garrique, and a finish that burns all the way down once I decide to swallow.
We've poured this wine to sip as an aperitif while we do some cellar maintenance before dinner. Half an hour into our task, we realize neither of us is touching our wine so we pour it back in the bottle to see if food helps it later, and we open something that turns out to be barely more compelling to sip in the cellar. Idiot move on my part--I expected the second wine to be less than smashing and my stated reason for choosing that bottle was that it's best to find the dogs now and get them out of the cellar. Good idea, but heck, I can do that on a Tuesday. This is Friday and Fridays deserve something special. Oh well, it's the 13th, maybe I'll get it right next week.
So dinnertime comes and we're having an Italianish baked ham in chestnut honey over polenta with fresh porcinis and parmesan. The Suffrene was certainly more palatable with food, but eventually we finish the meal and realize that neither one of us had really touched our wine. Too much alcohol and too little anything else in the balance, so we both switch to water.
It's just as well; tomorrow's a big day.
My wine shopping and I have never had a problem. Just a perpetual race between the bankruptcy court and Hell.--Rogov