And then as we moved into our first house, a closet seemed like a good place to start. It was dark, vibration free and in the middle of the house, so the temperature would be consistent, if not optimal.
I first acquired a case of 1976 Johnson’s Alexander Valley Cabernet Sauvignon. It was from the same year my son was born, so I considered this to be a case in trust for him. We drank the last bottle eight years ago for his birthday. Both he and the wine were 36. Both were showing well. It was a good catch.
After, I left the restaurant floor and starting working in the wine distribution channel, where things really opened up. California Cabernet, Burgundy, German Riesling, Tuscan and Piedmont wines and a lot of wine from Abruzzo. Port, Champagne, dessert wines, and wines from all over the world, although Italian wine were dominant tenants. There was, at the time, not a lot of rhyme or reason to what I chose, except for the notion that I liked what I was storing in my little closet.
Eventually, I moved to another house, with a bigger closet, this time, temperature controlled. At this point I have a little less than 500 bottles in it.
I started buying and collecting wine in my 20’s. And that has continued to this day. Now I buy white and rosé wine and some bubbles for current consumption. And that rare bottle of red, maybe to store, maybe to drink more quickly. I still have to figure out how to get through the 400+ red wines in my closet.
What I noticed, in my 30’s and 40’s, was that my tastes were changing and so was my wine collecting. I was looking for more wines from Europe, mainly Italy, France and Germany. And they were trending more towards Tuscany and Piedmont.
In my 50’s I started looking for more unusual wines from all over Italy, as well as dipping my toes in wines that were becoming available from all around the world. Wines from Lebanon, Romania, Portugal, Australia, Spain, Austria and Greece started showing up. As well, domestic wines from Oregon, Washington, Texas, even Mexico, started crowding the already sufficient selection from California.
And when I got to my 60’s, we were in such a golden age of Piedmont wines, they started making up the majority of wines coming in. I’d long since lost the wallet for wines I’d cut my teeth on from Bordeaux and Burgundy. What remained from those regions was aging nicely but thinning out. I needed something to take me into my decrepitude. Nebbiolo became my Burgundy. I could afford it and there were great wines.
In retrospect, it seems I did have a slight bit of strategy to my choices. I figured this out when I took a look at all the wines and carefully noted what I had put in there. I’d done that years ago, before I moved, but then life just got in the way and I neglected to update it. No longer, I know every last bottle.
In the spread sheet I finally used, I didn’t use any proprietary software, just built an Excel sheet, much like the one I used when I was working in the trade. I didn’t need to know how many points anyone gave it. That’s not why I acquired these wines. I collected them because they appealed to me. And when I finally looked at what I had bought, I was pleasantly surprised.
Usually when one collects, a certain percentage of wines are duds. They stay too long in wait. They get old, senile, some of them die. I found that I had a pretty healthy group of wines, even if some of them were middle-aged or almost ready for the nursing home. Now I know which ones need hospice care, i.e. open them up and drink them soon. But for the most part, I’m happy to discover I have a bunch of wine that will ride with me as we wait for the sun to set together.
If I were to do it again, I’d be a little more mindful of the stages of life in both the human collector and the wine collected.
Now, the question isn’t so much what to put in the closet. Rather, it’s how to empty it, before I head off into the sunset.
The other day, I met a friend at an Italian BYOB restaurant (with a lovely outdoor patio) for lunch. I knew he was going to bring something stellar, so I had to punch above my weight to honor his contribution. I found something from the 2008 vintage, kind of an homage to the year, when we celebrated a profound moment in American life.
The wine was a 2008 Marchesi di Gresy Barbaresco Martinenga. I acquired it in 2013, and paid about $40 for it. Now, if it were even available, the internet values it at $50. It didn’t skyrocket in value over its lifetime.
But what it did in the glass, was exactly what a wine should do. It was perfect! It had lovely aromas, a great body, filled with fruit and acidity. It was subtle. It was powerful. I wish I had bought more. But I’m so grateful I was able to enjoy it, in its prime. Really, who can ask for anything more?
And that’s one of the tricky things about collecting wine and putting them in a wine cellar. They all come out differently. Some are too young, some too old. Some out of balance. Some are even corked. But my experience has been, for the most part, very affirmative. I’m glad I started this little project 40 years ago. It’s kind of similar to getting a tattoo when you are young. You never know what it’s going to look like 40 years later. But you have to live with it. Fortunately, for wine, you can face the music and then it goes away. Not so much with a tattoo. But the gift you, as a young person, give to yourself, as an older person, when you buy and collect wine, can give the older you an insight into the younger you. What was he or she thinking? Why did he collect that? Oh, why didn’t he buy more of that? And so on.
Now, I’m seeing my wine cellar like a person would see their home with a reverse mortgage. I want to get to the point, right before the sun dips below the horizon, where there is little wine left in that closet. Maybe a little to toast my new journey into the boundless expanse of time sans corpus.
And finally, it looks like there will be more than one reason, in the coming days and months, to open up some of those special bottles that are ready and waiting. I feel much lighter these days, and hope that feeling will stick around, so we can pop a few bottles and get back to living life with more hope and joy and gratitude.
