I peer into those black eyes and lose count. The years are aristocrats. They pool on your face and hands. The wind plays classical music on leaves dappled in angular October sunlight. This is before computers, maybe before electricity. Now look at your glass. Take a drink of the dark liquid and nourish your bones.
Cahors is a melancholy kind of beauty, like a Swinburne poem, or the sound of steel wheels on rails.
If time is linear then the surprise offered by wine is an upward curve.
For example, take the grape variety known as Malbec. I thought I knew it! It’s a dark-colored grape. It makes big reds that can sometimes taste simple. I knew that Bordeaux’s Malbec in other parts of France is called “Côt Noir.” I knew it is essentially the national grape of Argentina where a lot of thick and sometimes over-oaked wine is produced. These are called things like “Chairman’s Blend” and “Septima.”
I knew that I tend to prefer Malbec, or Côt, from the cooler vineyards of southwestern France and the middle Loire valley, and especially when produced by Clos Roche Blanche, or Thierry Puzelat. I knew the region around Cahors had the potential to produce some basic, good, hearty values with this grape. I’m an Haut Monplaisir and Coustarelle guy.
And then this week the ambassador for Georges Vigoureux came to town. Mickael Alborghetti. He’s a younger man, dressed in a likable pin striped suit, and his business card describes him as “America’s Malbec Expert.” It’s a big claim, and how I’d love to ridicule it, but I can’t. He brought some of the tastiest, most pleasure-provoking Malbec wines I ever drank (along with an infectiously charming red Gaillac.)
Corktown is Cahors-town
Will you join Mr. Alborghetti and me this Tuesday to taste his wines? Most of the wines are red and from France, but there will be at least one good Malbec from Argentina. We begin at 6pm at Mudgie’s Bar on Brooklyn Street just north of Porter. We will offer guests deep retail discounts. Admission price $12.