Had this in my cellar for a while and felt like it might have been past its prime, so thought I’d give it a go.
This feels like ghost wine. The vines are long gone and Mayacamas doesn’t make Pinot anymore to my knowledge, so every remaining bottle a small act of time travel to a side of Napa that’s becoming all too rare these days.
In the glass it’s pale, still ruby-hued, with the fragile glow of something that knows it's disappearing.
The nose is quietly stunning: pink peppercorn, dried rose petals, urfa biber, and sumac, lifted by something harder to name. Not the usual forest floor of aged Pinot, but something more alive. Mist-covered hills. Redwood canopy. Bay laurel and native California scrub. It smells like the mountain it came from.
On the palate, it’s plush and silky. There’s enough weight to feel the wine’s presence, but it’s restrained and very elegant. It reminds me of a strawberry-sumac jam I once had at a posh bakery in London; fragrant, tart, unexpected, unforgettable. The tannins are beautifully integrated. What’s left is pure expression.
The finish goes on for minutes. Literally minutes.
This is a melancholic wine, ephemeral in the way only very old, very graceful things can be. Hushed, solitary, beautiful. Opened on Valentine’s Day, shared with someone I love, it felt less like drinking wine and more like holding a moment that was already passing.
This is breathtaking. On a blind, it could easily pass as a Grand Cru Bourgogne in my opinion. Wish I had more of this.
by farouestwine
3 Comments
Was thinking about ordering a birth year Pinot from them (1993). Do you think it’s worth it?
urfa biber…..a little penicillin should clear that in a few days.
Urfa bieber? Is that Justin’s long-lost sister?