Some people poo-poo the idea of old wines because they lack the fresh fruit they expect to have in their wines. I for one embrace older wines, if for nothing else you’re tasting a piece of history. Hopefully by now you’ve seen the movie Sideways think back, to Maya and Miles sitting on her porch talking about old wines: “I like to think about the life of wine … How it’s a living thing. I like to think about what was going on the year the grapes were growing; how the sun was shining; if it rained. I like to think about all the people who tended and picked the grapes. And if it’s an old wine, how many of them must be dead by now. I like how wine continues to evolve, like if I opened a bottle of wine today it would taste different than if I’d opened it on any other day, because a bottle of wine is actually alive. And it’s constantly evolving and gaining complexity. That is, until it peaks … And then it begins its steady, inevitable decline.”
One of the oldest wines I can remember drinking was a 1970 Chateau Haut Bailly … it sticks in my mind cause it has special meaning in a couple of ways. It was the first time I had tried a wine from the year of my birth, and two I had it on the occasion of my engagement when my family had gathered around for a dinner to celebrate. I thought there was no better time to show off something old from a great Bordeaux vintage. Most dismissed the brownish liquid in their glass and turned their nose up at the interesting, and admittedly, odd smells emanating from the glass; but I relished in it and more people should learn and understand that if you spent X number of years cooped up in a bottle (in this case some 38 years +) you’d be a little crabby when you emerged too; but with a little time and a little air I’m sure you’d come around — start feeling like a more mature version of your old self … the same can be said for wine.
Michael Pinkus, “Tasting Old Wines from the Chateau”, Ontario Wine Review, 2012-08-16
August 16, 2012
QotD: Old wines
Weigel’s prog rock series: the excess creeps in
The third entry in Dave Weigel’s excellent and informative history of progressive rock:
With more gigs came more pomp. Ian Dove, one of the New York Times’ rock writers, approached ELP’s December 1973 Garden shows the way a reporter might write about a fully loaded nuclear submarine. The gear — tell us about this gear. ELP had arrived in Manhattan, Dove wrote, with “over 200 separate items of equipment, valued by customs at just over $100,000.”
Among them:
- “Thirteen keyboard units” for Keith Emerson, including a “brand new prototype Moog synthesizer.”
- A $5,000 Persian rug, “for bass player Greg Lake to stand on while playing.”
- A drum kit as complex as a painting by H.R. Giger — he’d designed the nightmare cover to ELP’s most recent album, Brain Salad Surgery — crafted in stainless steel, topped off by an “old church bell from the Stepney district of London,” surrounded by Chinese gongs. If a stage was equipped right, the kit could rotate 360 degrees while Carl Palmer pounded out the solos in “Tarkus.” Cost: $25,000.
Band members got a little tired of talking about all this. Lake showed up for a Rolling Stone interview in cheap jeans and pronounced touring “incredibly tiring.” The excess was the sacrifice the band made for you, the fan. “It is very hard to get something across to 10,000 people with just a piano, a bass, and a set of drums,” Emerson told the Times. “It works fine in smaller places and the recording studio. I always compose on the piano. But in the large arenas where we have to play, everything gets lost.”
Where we have to play — a magnificent early example of the humblebrag.
George Orwell, “the moral compass of the 20th century”
A review of Diaries by George Orwell in the Wilson Quarterly:
The early entries cover Orwell’s days as a tramp, a period that provided material for Down and Out in Paris and London (1933), and his subsequent investigation of poverty in the industrial north of England, from which he drew for The Road to Wigan Pier (1937). This volume’s lacuna is Orwell’s experience fighting the fascists during the Spanish Civil War. Plainclothes policemen in Barcelona seized the one or two diaries that recorded those events, and delivered the work to the Soviets. Though the writings likely remain in the archives of the former KGB, Orwell transformed them into literature as well, with the extraordinary memoir Homage to Catalonia (1938).
Of greatest interest are entries from the periods of Orwell’s life that he did not turn directly into books. His World War II diaries are the highlight. Although all of the entries feature Orwell’s direct prose style, there are occasional hints of the novelist at work: “Characteristic war-time sound, in winter: the musical tinkle of raindrops on your tin hat.” And there are ominous passages that reveal his unusually clear view of the awful century unfolding, such as this one from June 1940 that prefigured his 1945 novel Animal Farm:
Where I feel that people like us understand the situation better than so-called experts is not in any power to foretell specific events, but in the power to grasp what kind of world we are living in. At any rate I have known since about 1931 . . . that the future must be catastrophic. I could not say exactly what wars and revolutions would happen, but they never surprised me when they came. Since 1934 I have known war between England and Germany was coming, and since 1936 I have known it with complete certainty. . . . Similarly such horrors as the Russian purges never surprised me, because I had always felt that — not exactly that, but something like that — was implicit in Bolshevik rule. I could feel it in their literature.
Kheiriddin: Quebec xenophobia on display in election campaign
In her National Post column, Tasha Kheiriddin discusses the topic that most of the Canadian media is being ultra-careful about:
Racist or not? When it comes to the Quebec election campaign, remarks made this week by a variety of politicians provided considerable fodder for debate, and considerable distraction from the real issues — health, taxes and corruption — that voters actually want their elected officials to talk about.
First, Coalition Avenir Québec leader François Legault lambasted young Quebecers for being interested in living “the good life,” unlike children in Asia whose parents all want them to become engineers, and have to stop them from studying lest they make themselves sick. When he was attacked for this remarks, he retorted that the fault lies with Quebec parents, and that they should review the values they are transmitting to their children.
[. . .]
His remarks pale in comparison, however, to the xenophobic tone of those made by Parti Québécois ledaer Pauline Marois, and worse yet, the mayor of Saguenay, Jean Tremblay.
On Tuesday, Ms. Marois unveiled her party’s desire to implement a “Secular Charter” which would ban the wearing of any religious symbols by government employees. With, as my colleague Chris Selley tartly notes on these pages, one notable exception: Symbols of Christian faith, such as the cross which hangs over the Speakers’ Chair in the National Assembly. In other words, a crucifix necklace, good: hijabs and yarmulkes, bad.
[. . .]
Then on Wednesday, Mr. Tremblay took xenophobia one step further, when he launched a tirade against Djemila Benhabib, the Parti Québécois candidate in Trois Rivières. On a popular radio show, Mr. Tremblay let loose: “I am shocked that we, the softies, the French Canadians, will be told how to behave, how to respect our culture by a person who comes from Algeria, and we can’t even pronounce her name.”
Update: Convenient timing suspects Don Macpherson.
https://twitter.com/MacphersonGaz/statuses/236059349817122816
