Opus

A very generous person gave my wife a bottle of 1996 Opus One last week. Though I'm glad she did, I don't know why anyone would do that. Since it was, coincidentally, our anniversary on Friday, we had a perfect reason to open it. And so we did.

We like us some wine at Chez Cleek, and we're not afraid of spending a few bucks on a good bottle (or a few bucks on a bunch of average bottles) now and then (a.k.a. "Saturday"). We know there's a clear difference between a $9 bottle and a $39 bottle. I guess you can say we're not exactly wine drinking novices. But 1996 Opus One is collector wine: the kind of stuff wine writers gush over; its' the kind of wine most people will only experience, if at all, as an exotic relic, posing with a few haughty Bordeaux in the locked satin-draped museum case at Total Wine. So, we weren't sure what to expect.

A little research told us that we should decant it, before drinking. Decant? Yipes. So we bought a decanter, and let that wine breathe for 40 minutes while I cooked up two perfect filets and a shittake risotto. And then it was drinkin' time!

What does a $90/glass wine taste like? Well, I'm no wine critic, but I'll try to describe it...

If you like red wine, and have ever had anything that didn't come out of a box, you might know how a wine can be "silky" and "balanced"; how the acid, the sweetness, and the fruit work together without one overpowering the others; how the oak isn't so strong that you think you're in a lumber yard; how there's no sharp bite of alcohol; how it works with the right food to enhance all of that instead of losing its balance and turning too sweet or sour or watery; how there's no strange aftertaste; how it manages to balance all those things but still have a huge and wonderful flavor that you simply want to drink because it's absolutely delicious. You can get some of that in a $12 bottle, if you're lucky. You can usually get more of it in a $30 bottle. But you get it all with an Opus One. It's everything you've ever liked about all the various red wines you've ever liked before, all in one bottle. Well, that's not strictly true - it's definitely a California Cabernet (blend), and not a spicy Spanish Priorat or an acidic Italian Chianti, or a delicate Pinot Noir - it's the best of all the things a California Cabernet should be. Delicious.

Is it worth the price? Yeah, that's a tough one. On one hand, for a wine lover, it's a chance to taste what an essentially perfect California Cabernet tastes like; on the other hand, you can buy three cases of everyday wine, or a single case of really good wine, for the same price. One Opus One Mondavi-Rothschild Cabernet blend, or thirty-six Mondavi-Woodbridge Cabernets ? In our income bracket, I guess we'll have to stick with the latter.

4 thoughts on “Opus

  1. pseudonymous in nc

    It’s a good wine. And I’d say that $100/bottle (on its release) is about the point at which any further expense isn’t about improving the quality of the wine, but improving the social cachet of the drinker. (Check the New Yorker’s piece on fake ultra-niche wine to get a sense of that kind of drinking.)

  2. anandamide

    The problem with drinking a good bottle of wine like that is that it forever ruins your illusion that the plonk you normally drink is “actually a great wine for $10”. Until I make a radical change in income bracket, I’m almost afraid to drink good wine, lest my eyes be opened….

  3. cleek

    it forever ruins your illusion that the plonk you normally drink is “actually a great wine for $10?

    no doubt.

    i’m not looking forward to any of the $7 cheapees we’ve got stacked in the cabinet. maybe i’ll stick with white for a while, and maybe forget what a great red tastes like.

  4. hipparchia

    i think i’m glad that i’m in the income bracket where a $7 bottle of wine is a good wine and that all my friends and relations are cheapskates.

    but still… just once, i’d like to try one of those that the wine writers gush over. just once.

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