Lost in Translation

As a speaker of two foreign languages, I know firsthand the pitfalls of trying to articulate certain facts and emotions. At a recent trade tasting I was reminded of this by a rather unexpected sales pitch from a French producer attempting to highlight the special nature of a vintage 1953 sweet wine from the Loire Valley.

The wine—a Moulin Touchais Coteaux du Layon 1953—is made from meticulously tended and hand-picked Chenin Blanc grapes grown on the historic property of the same name in the Coteaux du Layon, an Appellation Contrôlée that, along with Quarts de Chaume and Bonnezeaux, is one of the areas in the Loire known for producing sweet wines with long aging potential.

The grapes in the Moulin Touchais wines are left to over-ripen on the vine, yielding fruit with high sugar levels and concentrated flavors that balance with Chenin Blanc’s naturally high acidity. Unlike many of the sweet wines in the Loire, they are not affected by noble rot (botrytis) due to the location of the vineyard on the banks of the Layon River.

I was tasting with my friend and fellow wine geek, Will Sugerman, and as we went through the 1993 and 1996 vintages (both were incredible), our French guide explained the history of the property, the producer’s dedication to traditional farming and winemaking techniques, and the practice of aging the wines for a minimum of ten years before releasing them for sale.

Then, while pouring the 1953 vintage, the gentleman— with the same enthusiastic delivery he used for all of the other details—stated that everyone involved in the wine’s making was now “surely” dead.

Standing next to me, Will (being 25 years my junior) raised an eyebrow and looked at me with that wry smile normally reserved for his quick-witted (and often hilarious) snipes about my own vintage. However, we were both immediately distracted by our first sip of this amazing wine.

Endowed with vibrant acidity, slicing through layers of peaches, apricots, honey, caramel, and nuts—this wine was just entering the prime of its life.

I reflected for an instant on the grim fact that had just been presented, which I understood was only meant to underscore the rarity and unique pedigree of the wine, then consoled myself with the thought that the wine and whoever had a hand in its making was still very much alive inside of this very special bottle.

Tags: wine