After the sadness, a small measure of joy

My day (Tuesday 8th January) started  with a mad, frantic dash across Athens to attend the memorial service for my classmate and childhood friend DJP, who died a couple of weeks or so ago in London (see my previous post). Most of my day before and after the event was filled with sorrow, tears, despair for a loss so unexpected. I fully expected to go to bed full of sadness.

Life is a funny old thing, though, and little events help to transform our mood and outlook - so it was today with me. Sometime yesterday I'd arranged to go and see my friend AJC, whose wife was out on a bridge night the following evening, for a bit of cheese and wine, little expecting that it was going to turn into a total mood-changer. To my mind we were going to have a couple of glasses of plonk with some cheese and, maybe, a bit of something else, tasty if unremarkable. It was not to be.

Andy brought out a few bottles of Greek wine that had been lurking in his cellar since the late seventies or early eighties, none of them particularly special  or highly rated, but adequate, workmanlike bottles. Expectations were low and this was more an event to please his wife, by clearing out and throwing away things well past their sell-by date, rather than a tasting with high expectations - well, we were right and wrong!

The wines to be tasted (all red) were the following:

1. Tsantali Cava 1966 Naoussa, decent level.
2. Tsantali Cava 1976 (2 bottles), both good level, one slightly less than the other.
3. Achaia Clauss Chateau Clauss 1973, slightly reduced level, just above shoulder (Bordelaise).

We started with the 1976 Cava (a designation much in fashion at the time, hinting as it did to special selection, more careful winemaking and extra time in the cellar both in barrel and bottle) from the well-known Northern Greece producer Tsantalis, and the bottle with the slightly lower level. The cork, predictably, disintegrated but came out, albeit in bits and pieces. The wine, made from the Xynomavro (sour black) grape and possibly from the Goumenissa area where Tsantalis has holdings (no indication on the bottle), had a nicely aged deep brick-brown colour and a clean stewed fruit nose, typical of aged xynomavro; on the palate it lacked fruit and freshness but was clean, dry but fading, near the end of its life but still there and drinking just fine, an interesting, rare if unremarkable 42 year old wine.

Our next choice was the 1966 Naoussa, a wine that should age well but whose cork was even more of a problem - part of it came off on the corkscrew but the balance went the other way and into the bottle. Still, we decanted and ran it through a sieve, admired its robust brick-red colour and... alas the wine was corked, badly, and undrinkable. From the same grape variety (Xynomavro) as the previous wine, it looked to be quite rich, with more colour but stank!

The Chateau Clauss at 45 years old turned out to be remarkable, and how. Whilst the cork was a pain in the neck, disintegrating and forcing us to decant, the colour was fairly deep, reluctantly revealing its age with a deep, vibrant centre. The nose was spice and cooked fruit, still lively, even a bit complex with some length - who knew Greek wine could age so well? I think that the grape varieties involved are Mavrodaphne with a touch of Cabernet Sauvignon, which makes sense but I cannot be certain. I CAN be certain that this is a seriously good wine which at its best would have been absolutely stunning. Indeed I have a vague recollection of drinking this wine with my friend around twenty five years ago and that it was well-balanced, with rich spicy red fruits on the palate and a reasonably long finish, a rarity for that time. Alas this wine is no longer made, which is a pity despite the fact that its Chateau name was misleading and altered at some point; Achaia Clauss also is a shadow of its former self, a once dominant wine company that has been unable to keep up with the times.

This tasting proves that wine can have an exceptionally long life if it is stored correctly, away from sunlight and variations in temperature. This applies to most decent quality wine with a proper cork, though only good wine gains from ageing - simple, everyday wine is not worth ageing much as it just becomes old simple, everyday wine, so is largely not worth the bother. So create your sensible cellar, stock it with care and love, sit back and await the enjoyment to come.

So you see, human beings are funny - or at least I'm peculiar - for the discovery and tasting of these little gems and the time spent with a good friend just chatting, drinking, munching gave me pleasure and strength. The alcohol, dear reader, was not the warming factor here; rather, human contact, intellectual stimulation and curiosity, strengthened with affection for everything vinous, were the factors that warmed me up, distracted and entertained me, helping me recover some of my equilibrium. I'm still sad, no doubt, but some of the cloud has been lifted, with a little bit more thankfully lifting all the time.