I'm pretty sure we were on our way to or from the Schooner Wharf Bar. Probably from. I think we'd just had lunch - probably fish-of-the-day grilled sandwich, washed down with couple of Red Stripes. The fish of the day was probably snapper, or mahi-mahi (otherwise known as dolphin, but not the cute, squeaky kind). So we wandered home and, as happens in the Keys, there was a sudden downpour. The sun had been beating down beforehand and suddenly there was that peculiar aroma - that rain on hot asphalt whiff. Former wine-merchanting legend (and current wine-making legend) Andy turned to me and said, 'Now there's a tasting note: rain on hot asphalt.'
The problem is, not a lot of wines smell like that.
Young Barolos, however, do often smell a bit of tar, and from there you can possibly arrive at rain on hot asphalt. With a little imagination.
The colour pleases me. It's that dark and brooding Nebbiolo that kind of looks like rust, but isn't, with illuminating brilliance at the core.
Earthy, smoky, meaty, tar-like nose with a core of sweet cherries, a touch of cranberry and perhaps just a whiff of rain-on-hot-asphalt. Truffles and wet fresh soil come through a bit with some air. Broody, youthful and enticing.
Incredibly tight knit on the palate. Those cherries and cranberries are inseparable from the secondaries - tar and liquorice, big mouthfeel and mouth-filling. This is so young and there's so much to come - it hums with its structure and those blank spots, those markers that hint at what's to come - that tar will soften to leather and that liquorice will fade to tobacco. At the risk of sounding a bit new-age-y, there's brilliant energy to this.
Needs about 10-15 years and it will be glorious. Very fun now.
Tasted 27/11/09 at Luvians Bottleshop.