Ten Years On: The 2004 Vintage
There was a time several decades ago, when I started out cellaring wine, that the concept of aging a bottle – or indeed a multitude of bottles – for ten years seemed almost mystical. I had never tasted wine older than a few years, and I read of ‘ten year on’ tastings with a sense of wonder. “How wonderfully these wines seem to have aged”, I thought to myself, as I read note after note. “They must have been chosen well, and so carefully cellared”.
Today my take on this has changed somewhat. Now I look at many of the wines currently resting in my cellar, even the less prestigious bottles, and think that ten years simply isn’t long enough. Wine is more robust than we might think. Whether they be wines from the top growers of the Loire Valley or from the many corners of Bordeaux, my two favoured regions, or from more distant lands including the Rhône Valley, Tuscany, South-West France, Alsace or even Australia, many wines are really just getting into their stride at ten years of age. Many lesser growers make wines that see out a decade without a problem, and I suspect many wines traditionally seen as intended for drinking young may also develop interest with age. Muscadet (from the right domaine, at least) certainly does, and the same can be said of Sancerre, again depending on the name on the label.
This is one reason my Ten Years On Tasting is this year somewhat slimmer than it has been in years past; in many cases where I have just one or two bottles, I would rather open them at fifteen, twenty or twenty-five years of age than now. Another reason for a slimmer report is that for the second year running I have already published detailed notes on 2004 Bordeaux in my 2004 Bordeaux at Ten Years report, so there is little point in revisiting the wines just a few months later. Next year I will treat the Loire Valley in the same manner, featuring the many magnificent wines of the 2005 vintage separately, hopefully further broadening the depth and usefulness of the Loire information I present.
