A splendid chameleon, the 1980 Musar white presents differently every time you stick your nose into the glass, and just when you think you can finally nail down what it is, it changes yet again. This is a wine to sit down with over the course of a day or two, and revisit every few hours.
I opened this up by myself, in a new house, with belongings in boxes that made cardboard skylines against a wall in each room. The 1980 Musar was a good choice to commemorate the experience. As I drank it, I had fleeting thoughts of insightful comments from the late Serge Hochar. I came for sips between the newly-freed contents of each settled box, and the wine slowly unpacked on me. It became a bottle inexplicably linked with the christening of my new home.
Once again, the phenomenology of wine emerged from a bottle whose producer had been intent to create such experiences.
In Serge's own words, (circa May 2013), "My white wine is for your brain. My white wine is way more complex than you could ever think. These whites mature long after the reds."
I'm frequently re-amazed at the nascent power of communication locked inside of wine bottles. The elemental expression of the producer-- or lack thereof-- can't help but be obvious.
A few months later, looking for that same bottled charm, I splurged and opened another 1980 Musar white, but it wasn't the same. How could it be? That's not what these wines were made for.
I opened this up by myself, in a new house, with belongings in boxes that made cardboard skylines against a wall in each room. The 1980 Musar was a good choice to commemorate the experience. As I drank it, I had fleeting thoughts of insightful comments from the late Serge Hochar. I came for sips between the newly-freed contents of each settled box, and the wine slowly unpacked on me. It became a bottle inexplicably linked with the christening of my new home.
Once again, the phenomenology of wine emerged from a bottle whose producer had been intent to create such experiences.
In Serge's own words, (circa May 2013), "My white wine is for your brain. My white wine is way more complex than you could ever think. These whites mature long after the reds."
I'm frequently re-amazed at the nascent power of communication locked inside of wine bottles. The elemental expression of the producer-- or lack thereof-- can't help but be obvious.
A few months later, looking for that same bottled charm, I splurged and opened another 1980 Musar white, but it wasn't the same. How could it be? That's not what these wines were made for.
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