Julianna’s Basement Spring 2006
Folks are always asking me how long the wines will age. Well, they are created with the intention
to last, and this is now being proved as we roll into our thirteenth vintage working with Helen Turley.
On my Birthday in January, I snuck down into my basement and grabbed two bottles of Jackass Hill
Zinfandel, a 1995 and a 1998 vintage. I say snuck down because this particular basement resides
beneath a one-hundred year old farmhouse and it is often necessary to stay quiet to avoid black
widows, pincher bugs, mice, rats, napping skunks, foxes, snarling feral cats, and once a very
large and angry possum. The outside door to the basement has a mysterious little square cut out
of the bottom of it that opens out to the back flower garden. This hole in the door inadvertently
serves as an open invitation to all kinds of varmints, specializing in furry creatures of the night.
I don’t know what my great-grandparents had in mind, they had begun living in the house sometime
around 1899 after emigrating from Italy, but maybe the little square is just an accidental piece
missing in the door. Anyway, my constant lust for wine does not deter me from seeking out the
prime nectar of the Gods even amidst fang bearing creatures. A few years ago the dark threat of
big black spiders did serve a purpose, as they kept my daughter, Tessa Lee, from venturing beneath
the house when she was a teenager ever on the look out for an adult beverage.
Both of the bottles of Jackass Hill Zinfandel were fabulous that winter night of celebration. Our Zins, although fermented completely dry, evolve into a sweet concoction of blackberries floating in a white porcelain bowl of fresh cream. Part of the fun in drinking the aging bottles of Zin is dusting them off. For some silly reason having to use a rag makes the beginning process more special. The opening of the bottle becomes a great adventure. I recently had a bottle of our 1997 Reserve Pinot Noir which is still showing its wonderful fresh cherry flavors and hasn’t lost that sultry lace of chocolate and smoke. The Charles Ranch Chardonnay, after about seven years in the bottle, turns into créme brulee garnished with sliced apples and a sprinkle of nutmeg. The Dry Select Gewurztraminer, I am still drinking the 2001, develops a nutty flavor and yields up flavors of cinnamon spiced Gravenstein applesauce. The Tessa Lee Sauvignon Blanc turns utterly creamy with a touch of honeyed grapefruit. Each of the three Syrahs that we produce, especially after being decanted or open for a day, crawl up out of the glass like a wild deer draped in violets and plum sauce.
Our wines do taste great when they are young, which is a great sign of aging potential, but it is enjoyable and intriguing as well to experience their evolution. Older wines have a distinct beauty to offer their waiting audience. They speak from their liquid soul of that vintage’s growing year; of whether there was an early winter’s frost or late spring rains, of a long heat spike in mid August, or if harvest began September 2nd and ended before October 1st. Wine is a living thing and as it ages there can be bottle variance. Also, resting another year in bottle, even in the best of storage conditions, can change its evolution quite dramatically. I suggest that if you have recently opened a bottle of something you have stock of and absolutely looooooved it, especially if it is an older vintage, you should consider drinking the lot. Having the privilege of owning more than one bottle of that particularly loved wine, will also allow you to open another bottle in six months or so and see how it is faring. To answer the common asked question of how long will the wines last?, I really don’t know. You just have to keep experiencing and declare what you like.
Once my darling daughter graduates from college I will spend some money downstairs, and
enclose the dark trenches beneath my house against marauders and maybe even invest in some
wine racks. Although the basement is a wonderfully cool, dark, temperate place to store
wine, it is none-the-less seemingly like hanging your best leather Gucci jacket on a nail
on a post in a drafty old barn, or worse yet, in your daughter’s closet!
