To not forget our roots .... (5/5)
Bottled on the 8th of April 1983.
This what the label of this Italian mineral water says. The date refers to the water bottling, not to the wine. The bottle was used by the man that produced this wine to store his precious liquid. Only God knows how old is the wine, but most likely it was the '82 or '83 vintage.
What can I say? The wine is still in perfect conditions and smells like and aged burgundy or Rioja with haematic (blood) and earthy notes on top of macerated cherries. The color is great, with a ruby core becoming garnet on the rim. Good Acidity, silky tannins, medium- alcohol. So clean and clear. So stable. A wine that has reached his maturity, his perfect equilibrium, his Nirvana, and is in peace with himself and with the whole world.
Who knows how many wines like this are around the world. It's amazing how still easy is to find those lost bottles by just going around small towns in Italy. It' like finding some hidden marvellous affrescos in a odd cellar. Wow. I'm moved. And sad. Moved because of the emotion in front of such discoveries and sad because the feeling we are losing this immense human heritage.
Don't know which grapes were used for making this beauty, pretty sure they were coming from local old vines. And for sure it was just an artisan way of production (less than 1000 bottles) with nothing added apart from some sulphur burnt to protect the old large chestnut barrel where the wine spent something like 6 to 12 months. The wine has been bottled (for personal consumption) in mineral water bottles! Please note the crown cap!
All these details make me really think that wine is simply un-understandable. How many words spent today on 'Natural wines', old vines, vineyards densities, corks, screwcaps, yeast, yeast-derivatives, enzymes, tannins, barriques, cold soaks, and so on and so forth...
Wine like this are just looking at you with a serene smile and an extreme sense of peace and are answering to the tons of questions that are going through your mind in a simple way: <<Bullshits! Shut up, drink me. I'm speaking to your heart not to your silly brain!>>.
Yup, you can just feel, sense the magic of wine, the story of the men behind that bottle and the beauty of the world as whole. These are things your brain can't fully capture. Neither an University's Degree or a Master of Wine Certificate will teach you these stuffs. It's just your own travel, through bottles like this, that will teach you what really wine is all about.
As you set out for Ithaka
hope the voyage is a long one,
full of adventure, full of discovery.
Laistrygonians and Cyclops,
angry Poseidon—don’t be afraid of them:
you’ll never find things like that on your way
as long as you keep your thoughts raised high,
as long as a rare excitement
stirs your spirit and your body.
Laistrygonians and Cyclops,
wild Poseidon—you won’t encounter them
unless you bring them along inside your soul,
unless your soul sets them up in front of you.
Hope the voyage is a long one.
May there be many a summer morning when,
with what pleasure, what joy,
you come into harbors seen for the first time;
may you stop at Phoenician trading stations
to buy fine things,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
sensual perfume of every kind—
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
and may you visit many Egyptian cities
to gather stores of knowledge from their scholars.
Keep Ithaka always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you are destined for.
But do not hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you are old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.
Ithaka gave you the marvelous journey.
Without her you would not have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.
And if you find her poor, Ithaka won’t have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you will have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.