So it's been a while since I purchased this bottle and most recently it seemed a good time to start trying wines that have been in my stockpile for almost a year now. I know, hoarding wine is pretty much tantamount to a terrible idea, you never know what wines might turn or if even they can be held for a year, but honestly flew past me and though I just posted Part 1 tonight... here is Part 2.
I swear I'm trying to catch up!
So as the Connecticut Part 1 entry summed up, some family and I went to two wineries in the Western Connecticut AVA and weren't all too thrilled with what we had. Not to be dissuaded, I bought DiGrazia's Fieldstone Reserve to try when enough time had passed (...didn't think it would be this long...) and I could give the wine a fair shake.
At the tasting I did find the wine appealing, yet in reality and in retrospect it was hard to get any accurate feel for what I was tasting since the pours were so small and I wonder, since the bottle had been open for a day or more, it showed differently than what I tried straight out of the bottle. Now with an entire bottle before me, nursing it since around 1 PM this afternoon -it's now 7 PM- I've tried putting the glass aside for minutes on end, leaving the bottle to breath, and even thrown out what I had in my glass as I seriously contemplate moving onto another wine altogether. I usually have no problem imbibing a chosen wine throughout the day but this one takes the cake, it's simply the hardest to constantly sip with any sense of enjoyment, it's not getting better, just more awkward and almost cloying: it's like sucking on a grape/black cherry jolly rancher that had been run through a seeping pool of runoff from the nearby mechanic landfill.
The wine is thick in a jammy kind of way but not entirely, the tart black cherry -the same that coats your mouth all the way to the end- lightens the effect somewhat, nay, jostles the consistency of the wine creating a kind of dissonance along with the anxious minerality that pervades the wine; the minerality subsumed and shatter to the edge as the strange musk, toasted quality and a subtle undertone of ink recalls the days when I was a teenager and went searching through the old mechanical landfill behind the semi-abandoned shop where the landscape was redolent with its steeping residues, decomposition, and oily filth. The wine has all the vital components, they're just coated by the juice's thickness, the intermingling is strange and certainly off-putting- it's like someone tried marrying a lower grade, fruit forward, high acid Beaujolais with a hulking, dark fruit laden California Cabernet Sauvignon that was then slapped around by an even bigger Zinfandel leaving a rather shocked wine in the end. I will venture out into a few more, after all this is my first Marechal Foch.
Time to test another one I guess.
Update! - January 31, 2014: So after being sick all week it skipped my attention that I had three-fourths of the bottle still sitting on my mantle. Now I may not be back to 100%, but I poured a glass, tried it again, and although it didn't evoke the same pungent aromas on the nose and tastes from before (for what I could with my limited senses)-it was velvety smooth and more palatable yet still harbored some quirks with that distinct undertone of dark cherry sourness. It seems that this wine or this grape perhaps needs aging, maybe wood treatment or allowed to rest in steel vats for keeping to tame the wildness that the aromas and flavors produce, maybe even some exposure to oxygen as it rests to allow some of those more astringent notes to blow off.