Deux rell

Edmunds St. John 1995 Syrah Durell (Sonoma Valley) – Corked, I think. No obvious TCA on the nose, but it’s so muted and suppressed, despite an obvious surge of both structure and fruit somewhere within, that I can’t figure out what else it might be. This is the second bottle from the same stash that has been like this, so maybe the fault lies elsewhere. Whatever the cause, it’s a shame. (9/11)

Edmunds St. John 1995 Syrah Durell (Sonoma Valley) – Long believed to be a myth, a hoax, a legend, and yet here it is: a mature ’95 Durell. I never thought I’d see the day. Meat, soil, wilted muscle, and deep red light in a slow-moving whirlpool of…hey, does anyone remember that semi-horrid old Disney flick The Black Hole? Remember the special-effects visualization of said singularity? (No? Go Google it.) It tastes like that. But better. Much, much better. (10/11)

The vieux, the proud

Edmunds St. John 1993 Zinfandel (Amador County) – 13.7%. As fully-resolved a zinfandel as I’ve ever tasted…mostly, they tend to evolve, mature, and then start falling apart, and not always on parallel curves. This is soft, even plushy, in its textural circularity, with some erosion evident and a little bit of reduced gravity from the core. Around it, though, is still wrapped a lightly peppery sheathe, and dusty minerality rests on the ground, fallen but not yet separate. Very appealing. (7/11)

Edmunds St. John 1994 Zinfandel (Amador County) – Round, polished, sweet red fruit. Whatever structure there was is long gone, but what’s left is mostly just fruit, rather than anything particularly complex. It’s teetering on the edge of failure as well, though it hasn’t quite gotten there yet (note, however, that this is a recent release from the winery, and differently-stored bottles might already be on the downslope). A similarly-acquired bottle of the 1993 was better, and clinging more strongly to relevancy, a few months ago. In any case, one must be careful to not expect too much from aged zinfandel; there are exceptions and surprises, but they’re (definitionally) not the majority. (9/11)

Beatified Fitzgerald

Edmunds St. John 2001 Syrah (California) – As much as I adore Steve Edmunds’ wines, I’m now fully convinced that they’re almost never ready. Some of his oldest work (not this), tasted of late: nope, still not ready. This, a multi-site blend of which I drank a rather embarrassing quantity while thinking it was progressing with one bottle, then regressing with another. It’s still not “ready” in a sense that fans of full maturity would wish. What it is: structured, frankly a little bit closed, feinting at the dark, vaguely mean-spirited berries within, and doing a frustrating dance where it begins to emerge and then tortoises in on itself. I almost want to send a bottle of this to someone with a cold basement who doesn’t like wine, just to spare myself the bottle-uncorking curiosity that has obliterated most of my stock, and then ask for it back in twenty years. It probably still won’t be ready. (Oh: in case this carping obscured the more important point, it’s a really good wine that’s going to be really really good one day. I’m sure of it. Some religious text somewhere must say so.) (8/11)

The name of the Rozet

Edmunds St. John 2000 “Los Robles Viejos” Rozet (Paso Robles) – Undoubtedly much-victimized by a transatlantic voyage and then a good shaking from hotel to subway to restaurant, so when I mention the muted elements to come, they’re only partially due to a wine in its midlife crisis. But that’s a factor, as well…though the eventual signs of a more mature life can be very clearly glimpsed through the haze and miasma. Beefy, dark, scowling and broodish, with the mourvèdre taking a very prominent role (my drinking companion complains of mild brett; without lab work it’s hard to know for sure, but I feel it’s the animal stink of the grape rather than the animal stink of a yeast) and the other grapes of this southern Rhônish blend pacing around in the background. Structure is still fulsome and enveloping, and so while the fruit is well along its development curve, there’s still softening to be done. In another wine, I might caution about the future, but my experience with ESJ wines is that they always go longer – and often much longer – than my initial instinct suggests. So I’d say, more based on experience than the possibly traumatized state of this particular bottle, there’s absolutely no hurry, though given the right culinary conditions this could be coaxed into a state of reasonable enjoyability right now. I’ll wait on the rest of mine. (3/11)

Peay in a cup

Edmunds St. John 2001 Zinfandel Peay (Sonoma County) – 15.2%, and unfortunately volatile acidity has completely taken over. Other bottles (and tasters) may experience different results, but for me this is undrinkable, alas; I very much enjoyed the penultimate bottle (which was tasted just a few years ago), but this is my last one and so I guess I’m unlikely to taste an intact version again. (8/10)

Durell hand cream

Edmunds St. John 1993 Syrah Durell (Sonoma Valley) – Glacially-cellared, and this was in mind as we opened the wine, because in retrospect I’m not sure I’ve ever had a Durell syrah that I thought was fully mature. This one gave its best effort, though, and is the closest I’ve come. Very masculine, all rippling muscles and five o’clock shadow, wrapping dark blackberry residue in leather and tarnished metal buckles. Lingers, a very long while. Very, very good. (8/10)

Woven so well

Edmunds St. John 2007 “That Old Black Magic” (El Dorado County) – Steve’s wines aren’t always this approachable in their youth, but the surplus here doesn’t come at the cost of overall balance or integrity. Dark, deep, a little brooding, and quite solid…and yet light and lively despite the gravitic press. Dark fruit, dark soil, dark carpeting. Really, really good. (5/10)

Barsotti voce

Edmunds St. John 2008 Gamay Noir Barsotti Ranch “Porphyry” (El Dorado) – A stark, bare rock face of minerality with some tart, rhubarb/raspberry-ish fruit. Ungenerous and light, but long. I’d like to see this one again after some time in the cellar; a little erosion would be welcome. (5/10)

A Witters tale

Edmunds St. John 2009 Gamay Noir Rosé “Bone-Jolly” Witters (El Dorado County) – Raspberry and something in the peach realm, deft and light and gripping the palate as loosely as possible. Deft but not dodgy, light but not ethereal; very present without being insistent. (5/10)

Durell hand cream

Edmunds St. John 1995 Syrah Durell (Sonoma Valley) – 14.4%. Such a deep purple it’s like drinking a Jon Lord keyboard solo. Still very structured, with fine balance but with its cards held very close to its chest. It takes about five minutes to unwind from a cranky and difficult opening, and then it just sits there, unchanging, for hours. And hours. A touch of volatile acidity eventually develops in the glass, but it’s minor and non-hyper-sensitives probably won’t even notice it. Five to ten more years, at least, are required here; it’s certainly not in a generous mood at the moment. (3/10)

St. sy.

Edmunds St. John 2001 Syrah (California) – It will be to my ongoing regret, I’m sure, that the succulent appeal of this wine has kept me from aging it as long as it deserves. Dark fruit in the black & blue realm, leather, resolving but not quite diminishing structure, and complexity in micro-flake form...this wine regularly performs well above its pay grade, and has gotten better with each bottle I’ve uncorked. (8/09)

ES(O)J

Edmunds St. John 2001 Syrah (California) – Smoked meat, a little bit of brett (a first from this wine, at least in my experience), blackberries, and a dusting of char. Smooth and elegant in the context of California syrah…which isn’t, in a wider context, all that smooth and elegant. Still, I like it, and this is the first bottle that, to me, seems like it might be sniffing around the edges of maturity. (9/08)

No sand?

Edmunds St. John 1999 “Rocks and Gravel” (California) – I’m not enraptured by the way this has developed, in that the bubblegumness of grenache is not only on full display, but dominant. There’s appealing herbed hearth and a few slabs of meat in the background, but they struggle to push past the strawberry gobsmacker (not that this is a “gobby” wine). Moreover, alcohol is prodding at the boundaries. Did I hold this too long? Maybe, because I think I liked it more a few years ago, and the grenache/alcohol tandem doesn’t bode enormously well for the future. (5/09)

Durell Owens

Edmunds St. John 1994 Syrah Durell (Sonoma Valley) – Corked. Holy crap, is this corked. It’s like an entire year’s worth of TCA took up residence in this bottle. (3/09)

Rocks in the head

Edmunds St. John 2005 “Rocks and Gravel” (California) – Way too young, and yet showing its promise with thyme-infused skin not yet fully leathered, the densest blackberries, and a structure that’s at least half micro-particulate; this wine has a vibrant presence in a very non-liquidy way. Very long. Let it rest. (11/08)

Blonk de blancs

Edmunds St. John 2002 “blonk!” (Paso Robles) – Tastes like it’s just coming into its maturing phase – which is not to say it’s all the way there yet – with older, bronzed stone fruit and a lot of dusty trails running through the foundation. It gets a bit twisty with food, but with more aeration finds its voice and starts to hum an old, folkish tune with a decided desert twang. (11/08)

White!

Edmunds St. John 2002 “blonk!” (Paso Robles) – Drinking very well, with moderate stone fruit resolving into something in the spiced stone (as in: rocks) realm, better acidity than one expects from the Rhônish grapes involved, and a long, come-back-for-more finish. (9/08)

I want to live, I want to give

Edmunds St. John 2007 “Heart of Gold” (El Dorado County) – Very cranky when opened, not showing any of the fun fruit, structure, or aromatics I expect. Damaged? Probably not, given the source; perhaps just a weird bottle. (9/08)

The search for intelligent bass

Edmunds St. John 2005 Syrah Bassetti (San Luis Obispo County) – Smoked salt on meat and fresh blueberry. Flawlessly poised, medium-bodied now vs. other Bassettis, but absolutely bubbling with potential. This will take a long time to unfold, and an even longer time to develop, but it should be a stunner when it does. (2/08)

He knows

Edmunds St. John 2002 Syrah “The Shadow” (California) – One corked bottle, one soupy bottle (that I had; there may have been more), but the rest are as terrific as expected, with a rare balance of primary and developing syrah characteristics buoyed by fine structure and the orchestral tune-up that precedes complexity, For now, it’s still closed down, or at least in much need of a slower-paced awakening if one must drink it now. But it’ll be far better in a half-dozen years, or so. (8/07)