It was from the same year my son was born. And November 4th is his birthday. I invited him and his lady friend over tonight for homemade meat balls. I bought some good bucatini from Jimmy’s and made my own sauce and meat balls. And we had an old-fashioned Caesar salad. And the last bottle of the 1976.
At first the wine came out cloudy, like someone had awakened it from a deep slumber. Within a few minutes the wine had cleared, like a fog lifting. And the flavors were still rich and velvety and delicious. A 36 year old bottle of wine from a less than stellar year and an unknown California winery. So who is to say all California wines are alike and that they don’t age? In this case the wine aged well beyond my expectations. It was one of those bittersweet moments when you say goodbye to an old friend, never to see them again. But it was real good while it lasted, this 32 year old friendship.
Everything was made by hand, except for the lettuce and the pasta and the wine. But the wine had been lovingly saved for years and years, 32 of them, ever since my son was about 3 years old. Now he is 36 and all grown up.
I even let him wear my lime green Prada slip-ons.
written by Alfonso Cevola limited rights reserved On the Wine Trail in Italy
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