It is a problem many wish they had. Over the years our wine scribe Jim Walker allowed his wine collection to get completely out of control.

Too many bottles were aging far too quickly. So, Hélène and I decided to invite a gaggle of our thirstiest friends over to lay waste to some of the older bottles.  Most of the wines were approaching four decades of age. Would any of them be drinkable?

I began to sock away wine more than fifty years ago. It wasn’t to amass a showcase cellar but to lay down fine wines until they were ready to drink. One simply couldn’t find properly aged specimens at the local liquor stores (and still can’t). Lest you think I was a spendthrift; very good wine was not very expensive back then. Most bottles I latched onto were under ten dollars. Put another way, brother Doug acquired a bottle each of the then four (there are now five – Ch. Mouton-Rothschild was added in 1973) first growth Bordeaux, 1970 vintage – Ch. Margaux, Ch. Latour, Ch. Haut Brion and Ch. Lafite Rothschild at the LCBO’s Rare Wine and Spirits store, all for under one hundred dollars. Today, recent vintages of these four wines would cost more than $5,000 in total.

But I got carried away. Over the years I bought far too many bottles and what a pain they were when we had to move. I had acquired a somewhat portable wine cellar that held over 1,500 bottles. You get the picture. We simply couldn’t drink them all. I tried to unload some via the LCBO’s wine auction. As I lamented in my Gentleman’s Portion tale Going, Going, Gotcha!, it was a disaster.

It was with this in mind that we decided to hold a cellar cull evening with some folks we could count on to help alleviate our vinous oversupply dilemma. In addition to Hélène and me, the willing, parched participants included Gail and David Moorcroft and Cheryl and Philippe Gadbois. It is hard to imagine a sixsome better suited to the task of depleting my overstocked cellar.

I descended into my cellar, brushed aside the cobwebs and dust and selected twelve ancient specimens destined to make the ultimate sacrifice. They were: a 1987 Dunn Vineyards Howell Mountain Cabernet Sauvignon; a 1998 Cave de l’Hermitage Hermitage Nobles Rives; a 1986 Silver Oak Alexander Valley Cabernet Sauvignon; a 1986 Silver Oak Alexander Valley Cabernet Sauvignon; a 1985 Château Talbot; a 1986 Château Pichon Longueville Comtesse de Lalonde; a 1990 Domaine de Trévallon; a 1986 Château Chasse-Spleen; a 1989 Château Meyney; a 1984 Silver Oak Alexander Valley Cabernet Sauvignon; a 1999 Domaine Heresztyn Gevrey Chambertin 1er Cru La Perrière; a 1989 Château de Beaucastel Châteauneuf du Pape, and; a 1986 Château Lafon-Rochet.

Now then, not even the trusty topers we had selected for this mission could be expected to polish off a dozen bottles of wine in one sitting no matter how enthusiastically they tried. The plan was to have our guests select, in order, the wines to be sacrificed. I had picked so many in anticipation that several would have turned to vinegar due to bad corks and the passage of time. Then, as our guests nibbled hors d’oeuvres and sipped the starter wine (a magnum of 2017 Remoissenet Père et Fils Pernand-Vergelesses blanc), I would uncork the first three wines they selected, check their condition, decant them if potable, seal each and put them in the fridge so the little darlings could return to cellar temperature.

Philippe was nominated the official selector and chose the Ch. Meyney, Ch. Talbot and Ch. Pichon-Lalande, a thoughtful flight of three Bordeaux to start things off. As the others chomped on smoked trout pâté from Mike’s Fish Market at the St. Lawrence Market (introduced to us by the Moorcrofts) and fois gras mousse, both on olive oil infused crisp crostini and washed down by the Pernand-Vergelesses (which was divine), I approached the Meyney with fear and trepidation.

The price tag from Century Discount Liquors in Rochester was still on the bottle – $8.99 (it would have been further discounted). The foil came off easily and the top of the cork was clean. But I knew what evil lurked beneath. As I pointed out in a previous Gentleman’s Portion post the cork is the Achilles’ Heel of old bottles of wine. Mercifully, my trusty ‘The Butlers’ Friend’ cork removal weapon from the Oakville Grocery Company in the Napa Valley did the trick. It overcame the dreaded cork crumble and extricated the decrepit bit of bark with ease. I took a sniff of the wine and it seemed quite alright. Then I gently poured it through my old port strainer into a decanter. Lovely aromas of cigar box, old leather and spice wafted up to my questioning nostrils. Next, assisted by a funnel, I poured it back into the bottle that I had thoroughly rinsed and sealed it with a vacuum pump after splashing a small slurp into a glass. The reason I put it back in the bottle is that old wine doesn’t need to breathe. In fact, it can be bad for it. I’ve heard of geriatric bottles being opened, filling the room with their aromas and then having all their charms disappear within seconds.  

Next, with surgeon-like determination I tackled the Ch. Talbot and Ch. Pichon Lalande. The experience was like that of the Ch. Meyney. All three wines were in surprisingly good condition even if their corks were not.

With the wines uncorked and ready to serve, it was time to call our desiccated, famished friends to the dinner table. Their glasses were topped up with the Pernand-Vergelesses as Hélène set home-made vichyssoise before them. The bowls were emptied to the sounds of happy slurping and cleared from the table to be replaced by slow-roasted filet mignon accompanied by morel gravy and or Hélène’s basil, Parmesan mayonnaise. Asparagus spears, snow peas and roasted potatoes completed the main course. It was all washed down by the Ch. Meyney and Ch. Talbot which were deemed by all to be quite delicious if some-what lacking in fruit.

The cheese course followed a green salad and was comprised of a Jurassic Grand Cru hard raw cows’ milk cheese from the Swiss Jura region, a Camembert di Bufala buffalo milk specimen from the Lombardy region of Italy and the scary sounding Lindsay Bandaged Goat Cheddar from Lindsay, Ontario. It was time for the Ch. Pichon-Lalande to take centre stage and it did so with great aplomb. It had vestiges of fruit (black cherries and cassis) and spice that the first two lacked and was more complex and nuanced. We all agreed that it was the star of the tasting.

Dainty dishes of mango gelato accompanied by chocolate truffles from Cluny Bistro and Boulangerie in Toronto’s Distillery Historic District completed the evening’s festivities.

Thus ended our cellar cull evening. Just think, another 200 or so like it and my over-stocked wine dilemma will be solved.

Cheers!  Jim

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This is Jim’s 83rd blog on Gentleman’s Portion. The SEARCH function at the top works really well if you want to look back and see some of his previous stories.