J. Moreau & Fils 2002 is worth the wait

Last month, I paraded on these pages twenty bottles of wine that I wanted to select for opening over the holiday period. I didn't come nearly as close as to polishing them off as I had hoped -- merely ten bottles were opened (half of them). My stamina disappoints.

The ones that didn't get uncorked are not "Drink Now" wines. They can wait for the next special occasion and I'm proud of that: If my stamina is weak, my survival skills are stay strong. See the full list of the wines that I am talking about.

I've got some good notes on one of the bottles that was opened early on in the festive season. It's Chablis from 2002. The 2002 vintage was a great one for Burgundy and the cuvées from Chablis that year are particularly notable. The J. Moreau & Fils Chablis 2002 is no exception. If you click on the bottle image, you'll see that the current stocked Moreau cuvée is the 2005. No one might recommend that you wait four to five years to enjoy the 2005, but I was quite pleased with how the 2002 fared so far along in its lifespan.

To the eye it had developed a golden yellow hue. A sweetish aroma wafted out my glass. The aroma was honeyed with flowers and wet stone. Hints of honeysuckle, white flowers, lychee and lemon surfaced too.

On the palate it was luscious. Flinty, with some discreet fruit, turning back to flinty notes on the finish, which was quite long. If admirable acid carried the back-end of this wine, it was definitely the minerality that bound the entire package together. From beginning to end, a great wine.

For food pairings, I would avoid peppery or spicy foods. Even a salmon and spinach mousse rubbed this fine wine the wrong way. It was too brassy for this elegant wine. Stick to dishes done with a deft touch. White fish or meat in a light preparation. An onion tart with lemon and capers or other similar amuse-bouches.

In addition I found this Chablis was nice with Canadian Riopelle cheese, which was a recent award winner in the cheese world, though I didn't know that at the time. Softer cheeses like a goat's cheese would likely be a smart idea too.

La Croix Saint-Joseph, Chablis, France. 12.5%.

Clos Roche Blanche makes my favourite wine of the year (at 3 BYO's)

And meals at three worthwhile corkage-free restaurants in New York help prove it!!

Around this time last year, I picked an excellent wine and called it my favourite of the year. Now that the first week of 2007 has already gone by, this post seems a little late. (Almost all of my time blogging has been spent migrating to the new version of Blogger. Though I actually threw the switch for Blogger 2.0 at the end of December, tweaking my new template and labeling 219 blog posts has been a time sink -- I spent the entire first weekend of 2007 on it and will still likely be playing with it for some time to come).

Though my brain is currently rather fried, I have notes in front of me taken from clearer-headed days -- days when I uncorked one of the many bottles of 2005 Clos Roche Blanche Touraine Sauvignon that I've been enjoying this year (and buying without a moment's hesitation). Without further ado then is my explanation of why this is a wine of the year, i.e. a wine I could picture drinking virtually every day of the year.

There are three main reasons really, and they apply to last year's winner too. One: it's very affordable so I could actually afford 365 bottles of it. Two is that it has classic lines, and therefore something I wouldn't soon get sick of, whether served as a refreshment or as a complement to food -- though eliminating red meat completely from my diet might be in order should that come to pass. And finally, the third thing is that it is simply delicious. A citrusy, star-anise attack. Herbal and zesty elegance in a bottle. Not only is it a lovely expression of Sauvignon Blanc, but as wine is it is a triumph with nice echoes on the finish and a bouquet of flowers, lemon peel and spice.

Just during my vacation in the second half of December, I opened three bottles of this stuff. I was in New York so I elected to take them to some of the city's great restaurant establishments that charge no corkage fee. Here's how that went down.

ANGELICA KITCHEN

Organic and vegan fare in the East Village (Second Avenue and East 12th Street) with a great ambience and an earnest staff, who kindly open bottles with a smile. Every time I've gone the roomy dining area is tee totaling by a strong majority but that's because people flock there for the sui-generis cooking: intelligent with local ingredients and a keen sense of flavour and balance, and very modern. In this food context (the scrumptious Greek lasagna with "soy" dairy, for instance), a Sauvignon like the Clos Roche Blanche is a natural. If it's lunch, skip over to Ninth Street Espresso (between Avenues B and C) for coffee and a treat.

AFGHAN KEBAB HOUSE

In the heart of the Theatre District dining strip (Ninth Avenue and West 50th Street), a very narrow room serves Afghan cuisine. (Another location does the same cross-town from Hell's Kitchen). In this restaurant, Sauvignon, or in fact any white wine is not exactly wise planning. I brought it anyway I love this juice so much. I order a shrimp kebab, carefully taken off the spit for you, and a simple salad and was happy with that. But bread and appetizers are quite large and indelicate affairs calling out for big reds. Yet some, like the Boulanee, are deep-fried and a smart Sauvignon cuts through the grease nicely.

MÉLI MÉLO (en route to lunch in Greenwich Village Connecticut)

The bright and colourful Méli Mélo at 362 Greenwich Avenue, a block west of the train station in downtown Greenwich (that's the state of Connecticut, not the Village), is just 45 minutes door to door from Grand Central along the New Haven line. This is a wonderfully French crêperie with great coffee and friendly service and despite the cramped conditions (its dining room is even narrower than the Kebab House's). Pre-drinking is definitely in order since there are no reservations and it's a wee spot that's quite popular. Queues form outside. So though we drank Clos Roche Blanche at our Greenwich host's house before setting out for the little resto, it would've fit perfectly on the menu should any Sauvignon have remained by the time they let us in.

C. Roussel & D. Barrouillet, Mareuil-sur-Cher, Loire, France. 13%.