Ne Cede Malis.

Don't give in to misfortune.
Last night Vinomaker went down to the wine cellar to find something that would pair with our meatloaf dinner.  He reappeared with a bottle of older wine that neither one of us could remember buying.  At that point, I didn't know how old the bottle was as Vinomaker decided to blind-taste me on the mystery wine.  I did OK - Napa Valley, red blend (heavy on the Syrah), vintage 2008.  Whoops, wrong!
The Stags' Leap, 1998 Ne Cede Malis, Napa Valley Reserve is a blend of Petite Syrah (their spelling), Carignane, Grenache, Syrah, Peloursin and Mourvedre.  Erm, yes, I was a whole decade off on the vintage - the still deep, ruby hue of this wine belied it's real age.  On the nose I got hearty oakiness, rosy-lavender-talcyness and lots of mellow, red plum.  This wasn't a big wine on the palate, more akin to a lighter Rhône style, but the structure was finely balanced.  Again, red plums, floral notes, confident astringency (suggesting oak tannins to me), not the slightest hint of bitterness, but with the telltale chalkiness, for me anyway, that I often get from Petite Sirah.
This particular vintage, the 1998, was slammed by the wine press upon release.  The Wine Speculator called 1998 the "Black Sheep Vintage," the resulting wines "tough, tannic and expensive."  At 15 years old this wine is aging beautifully.  Take that, Jim Laube!
Unfortunately, the Ne Cede Malis didn't pair that well with the meatloaf, it was just so-so.  But I didn't give in to that little misfortune, besides I had a delightful Cabernet Franc waiting in the wings.
Nice find Vinomaker.

Worth the doe?

Without getting into a discussion about the placement of the apostrophe in Stags' Leap, versus Stag's Leap, I'm posting about a fabulous 2010 Viognier from Stags' Leap Winery, formerly owned by Carl Doumani who is known for having had a bit of a punctuation disagreement with Wayne Winiarski (of the 1976 Judgement of Paris tasting fame), who formerly owned Stag's Leap Wine Cellars (now owned by Tuscan producer Piero Antinori). Okay, I think I just gave myself a headache.

I don't particularly care who owns the winery now, or indeed where whoever decides to put their particular apostrophe (although the California Supreme Court may care), I just love this wine. Redolent with the usual Viognier stone-fruity suspects and a big, blossomy nose, it is the ultra bright acidity in this Viognier that makes it a real winner. The finish just goes on and on. The wine retails for about $25 and it is well worth it. A fitting libation for California Wine Month.