I love Christmas. I love that we eat, drink and indulge ourselves from the beginning of December until half-way through January, non-stop. Last night, continuing in this vein of absolute epicurean excess, GDwine came over for dinner.
I should actually prefix this post by explaining that for the last month, my apartment has been undergoing extensive building works. The last room to be completed is the kitchen.
Topsy-turvy doesn’t even come close to describing the current state of disarray. There’s a tower of paint pots in the bathroom, old kitchen cupboards on the balcony… It’s actually way faster to find a screwdriver or a tapemeasure than a knife or a corkscrew. Even finding objects as mundane as the salt and pepper mills turned into a critical two-person, fifteen-minute operation.
However, despite all this there was a calming voice of reason that kept the ship steady. It was this bottle of Château Leoville Poyferré 1999.
I don’t often drink Bordeaux… As you may have gathered if you’ve read any of my previous blog posts, I am most often found praising the eccentricities of natural wine. However, Guillaume knew that his task was to bring a bottle of claret and the boy did good.
It was round, it was mellow, the tannins were supple. There was ripe fruit, there was wood, and it was in perfect harmony. A classic.