As we are on to tannats, here is one I have kept for years, an Irouleguy from the Basque country in the south-west of France. Patience certainly pays when it comes to good wines, and this one has aged very well since buying it in some shop near Pau in 1997. We were at wedding and it was one of the local wines we came across, thanks mainly to an English chap and his French wife who were swishing it around in the hotel restaurant. It was a Domaine de Mignaberry, which seemed quite tanic but a little less gummy than some other cheapish local offerings. I bought one bottle in the nearby shop, a 1996. As the French lady happened to be an aquaintance of my own French wife, I decided to keep it till we all next met. Well, we haven’t had the opportunity and my patience finally ran out (or rather my curiosity took the better of me). So, eleven years later (last night) we opened it. Patience rewarded: medium rich, calm, supple, some fruit still and softly tannic. Perfect with a melted Mont d’Or cheese and some baby potatoes and fried buttered mushrooms; not a confit, but fitting nonetheless. I wouldn’t hunt high and low for Domaine de Mignaberry, but I take my hat off to smaller wines that yield up such pleasure after so long lying down (beyond the recommended six years). There are three factors at play here, apart from that little bit of luck that all wines need: first of all, the domaine itself, which not only clearly works the 80% tannat and the oak with mastery, but also deftly rams in a cork that is up to the job (so many good wines are let down by forgetting this “coup de grace”); a second factor is our cellar, which though in Paris is away from metro lines and elevator shafts, and continually performs wonders for us; and the third is, well, it must be the tannat. It seems to melt in better than cabernet sauvignon or merlot, rather as duck fat to butter.
The one downer was that as the wine breathed glass by glass, it began to wane like a flower. It also developed a slightly bitter sharp flavour. This waning happens to older wines, but it seems to happen more to the large tannic types. They open well, punch good and strong by about the middle of the bottle, and then ease off. A good Burgundy on the other hand tends to go the other way, with a kaleidescope of myriad flavours racing around even faster in all directions by the last third. I don’t think the infamous Robert Parker ever quite got that point, or perhaps as a marketing man he did, knowing that customers are impatient and the big sells would punch big right from the start. If you have the patience to wait a few years, and lying down a wine while waiting for a friend helps as an incentive, then that early punch will be all the richer. Anyway, despite the fading, 14/20 for this wise old Irouleguy from Domaine de Mignaberry, from Saint Etienne de Baïgorry.
©RJ Doyle
