
Bright oaque garnet, no edge, bricking hard and staining orange. Nutty figgy mint Christmas tree, cinnamon-nutmeg pine-cones and all, tied up with red velvet ribbon and tarnished silver tinsel. Fruit showing as a heady glow, warm and reduced, swilled in softened leather and worn concrete.
In the mouth, darling cherry entry, washing full-on nectar across every surface–spicy and crammed with fir boughs–a crescendo of sweet, perfect wine. Ridiculous pepper explodes mid-palate, drenching everything in fat slabs of creamy heat. The fruit NEVER goes away and is not even APPROACHING *fading*. So rich and full, zesty and sweet, ripe, dripping loveliness all the way out… hanging… dangling… FOREVER in the finish: sweet lovely tannic brilliance for ever and ever.
This is a perfect wine. Easily the best Napa I have drank this week. The troubling part is how few of the general wine-drinking public here on the Central Coast appreciate Cabs in this condition. I have watched people pour these wines out at bottle-shares. I have watched people wrinkle their noses in the glasses and glance apprehensively around the table. It makes me really sad. Everyone is trained to accept the young, high-voltage, super-concentrated, hi-Alc bling-bro wines, stewwed with reduction and plumped up with chemistry, nobody has a cellar and nobody drinks Napa and nobody likes wines like this. It’s almost like they feel there is some sort of *flaw* with them. Oh well, one of the things I have learned–the painful way–is not to share these bottles with the locals. It’s OK. More for me. I don’t need help drinking these.
2003 CONN CREEK ‘Anthology’ Cab/CF/ME/Bec/PV 64/16/14/4/2 Napa Valley 14.3

I don’t share truly elegant, classic wine with most of my Central Coast neighbors either. Usually wasted. They want a fruity Pinot or a squeeze-bottle Zinfandel.
LikeLike