Olivier LeFlaive can solve the Mideast peace process. Can’t he? I mean the balance, the delirious silky smoothness of this red, who couldn’t be won over? Who couldn’t compromise? And when I say compromise, I’m fully aware that no one is out searching for a 2011 Burgundy, certainly not a Pinot, no one is out scouring vintners to stock up the cellar; this was a bookend vintage, surrounded by stellar years that far outweigh its relevance. And yet, here’s the rub: Let’s say you don’t give a fig for terroir, let’s say to you, terroir is the homeopathy of wine, the energetic nothingness that holds no scientific weight. Why then, why is it that Pinot, Burgundy Pinot, even in lesser years, is so over the top exasperatingly elegant and appealing and ridiculously palatable? I say put aside our differences and uncork a 2011. I say we can all come together on Burgundy, even in the mediocre years.
Peppery, light, not abrasive, a twist or two of the pepper mill, a spritz of vanilla, the idea of cherry, the equanimity of it all, the absurd calmness of it, it’s like an assault on red wine: You pronounce yourself you Barolos and Brunellos and Bordeaux blends; this Pinot simply exists. It’s a philosophical bottle of wine. Open it, sip it, think about it.
I can’t afford wine in this tax bracket and even if I could I probably would buy twice as much of something lesser but by God was this my favorite red of the holiday season and then some. Not particularly food friendly but I really couldn’t care.
Price: $60 (ka-ching, ka-ching) at a Vancouver independent, before taxes, and even then I balked, but I was goaded into it after winning $21 on a lottery ticket…
Market Liquidity: Like silk sheets, impractical but heavenly.
