Man, do I feel stupid…
Giuseppe Mascarello 2004 Barolo Monprivato
Now, in my defense, I have laid my only bottle down for a long snooze. This was a friend’s bottle, and he wanted to open it “just to see.” There was no stopping it.
This would be like trying to get a feel for the Grand Canyon by reading black-and-white magazines. But then, it’s always valuable to experience what a truly closed down, young wine is like.
On opening: Almost no nose at all. A bit like cherry menthol, if smelled through a wet towel. On the palate, lithe and graceful and almost floating, with a subtle grab of tannins on the back.
Two hours later: A beautiful nose, but absolutely a ringer for Pinot Noir. I would have loved to throw this into a Pinot line up with friends. Soft ruby color wouldn’t have distracted anyone, either. Strange how Pinot-like it was at this stage, because…
Five hours later: …it became Nebbiolo the way the old schoolers used to do it. Earthy and tarry and just kissed by flowers and fruit. Still, the nose was not all that intense, and the palate seemed distant, like the girl who was trying not to look at you because she was about to break up with you.
24 hours later: A remarkable transformation. In no way complete, but much more open on the palate. That grace remains, but now there is a tannic grip that adds length. It’s an infant finally able to stretch its legs. Beautiful.
Where is this wine going? I’ll check back in some time in the 2020s. For now, it’s a mistake to open this wine, and not a pleasurable mistake. You don’t knock on the hotel room door of Pavarotti at 3am and expect him to jump up and belt out Caruso, do you?
