Opaque purple-garnet with basically black edges. Intense dark dusky fruit fill the nose, cloaked in a heavy sheath of petrichor, scorched earth and a briar akin to Caltrans shredding brush along the freeway. Still, enough of it peeks through–and it is a lovely concentrated, dangerously teetering on tarry flab–a baby-fat/bikini-body sort of appeal.
Not sure where I got this and going to do some research tomorrow as I have a couple ideas. If I got it *there* it will be a 45$ bottle, but if I got it *there* it will most likely be in the 25$ range. I’m going to have to research this tomorrow, because I want a few more.
Price not-withstanding, let me say the grief and woe laid upon the 2011 vintage is starting to feel like 96. Remember 96? Sub-par vintage. Woe and gnashing of teeth. Thin and tannic. Never gonna be much. We had just come off 94 and 95 and then of course 97, which was about the third or fourth VINTAGE OF THE DECADE since that decade had started. So everyone poo-poo’d the 96’s. I bought a ton of them–really only because they were cheap and I was poor, NOT because I was smart or prophetic. They turned out to be wonderful and a decade later everyone wanted 96’s.
Paying attention to vintages in California is absolute bullshit. The WORST vintage in California is still better than the BEST vintage in Bordeaux <–don’t EVER forget that when rotisserie dork starts rattling off vintage preferences in Napa. And yes it has occurred to me this situation exists because I happen to LIKE funky, acidic, tannic wines others find un-lush and un-polished. I find these bottles PREFERABLE to smoooooth ripe round fruit-bombs from allegedly ‘perfect’ vintages. Basically, I like hi-80-point wines and if you find that troubling, you’re on the wrong blog. Frankly, 95-point vintages bore me nearly–but not quite as much–as 95-point wines. Let the bling-doctors with more money than sense trade their bottle-shots of elusive check-book winery, $100,000/yr consulting winemaker bought-and-scored flab-and-oak vessels. I’ll just be over here with my family, consistent, small-run shit hiding out in the little wine-shops off the main drag. If I want dessert, I’ll buy Hostess.
In the mouth, big fruit explodes, almost TOO concentrated, tarry and black. Marzipan and eucalyptus overwhelming the pecan-meat and your grandmother’s Concord Grape canned juice. I guessed the AL close to 15 on this and was WRONG. Huge tannins take over and drag everything out dreadfully for ever and ever fighting with the fruit and you notice your glass is empty.
2011 CLARK-CLAUDON Cabernet Sauvignon Napa Valley Three Stones 14.2