Last night, after a topsy-turvy day of canceled dinner invitations and re-invitations, Andrew ended up going over to a friend's house for a sleepover and Jean and I had dinner at home to celebrate our 23rd anniversary the following day (i.e., today). For dinner, I cooked a roast leg of lamb and sauteed locally grown asparagus with late-season (this year) morels from Minnesota. With this, I opened a wine from the year of our marriage, the 1989 Ch. Beaucastel Chateauneuf-du-Pape.
Our second (and last) bottle of this, when opened it revealed some maderization on the nose, indicative of some heat damage somewhere in the transport chain (not unheard of in this era for Ch. Beaucastel). That did abate with time and what remained was a remarkably fresh wine, tasting of cherries and only a slight hint of meat/game with very fresh acidity. It had thrown a bucketload of sediment, but a decant did wonders for this wine. Quite tasty with dinner, but not nearly as awe-inspiring as the earlier bottle, alas.
Mark Lipton