Drank a bottle of 1999 Grand-Puy-Ducasse with a pork roast in Vermouth demi-glace sauce with fig after a most remarkable hike in the Adirondacks High Peaks, last weekend.
The weather was so perfect that hikers were walking in circles talking to one another about how perfect the day was, instead of hiking. One woman from Montreal sat down next to me on a rock (while I was eating a famous Mrs. B tuna submarine from Lake George) and announced that it was her birthday. I said she couldn’t have a better day for it. She just beamed. A couple of young boys, running ahead of their parents with bare feet, even stopped to strike up a conversation with my old lady and me, – which is a first; and mischievously flashed us the peace sign as their parents caught up and scooped them along. It was just one of those days that lured God to come back to have a look at what he created.
I didn’t have any reason to expect Ducasse to be anything like Lacoste, which I know much better; but I was amazed at how different it was. I could never have guessed blind what kind of wine I was drinking, other than that it was a soft Bordeaux. This thing is awash with red fruit, with some dried herbs (the term Parker used for the aroma, and I concurred) and tobacco. It is a little short, but it might be perfect for somebody who liked the taste of Burgundy but not its acidity. I’m going to buy some more just because it was so friendly, like the day.