If the Turley boys did a Côtes-du-Rhône, this might be it. Just had the 1996
Coudoulet de Beaucastle, Côtes-du-Rhône and was it ever a concentrated wine.
The Perrin brothers produce this Côtes-du-Rhône with grapes from the Ch
teauneuf-du-Pape region, and list: Mourvèdre. Grenache, Cinsault and Syrah as
the predominant varietals. Though no formula was printed for the "mix," the
label states that each varietal is harvested and vinified separately, then
blended. It is also listed as being "organic," and "unfiltered," which would
explain the fair amount of sediment in the bottle.

Dark, purplish garnet in the glass, with a tiny, slightly pinkish meniscus,
the look belies the concentration. I've had many a hardy Zinfandel, that
looked weaker. The nose was mostly about wood – cigarbox cedar, damp oak, and
some brambly forest-floor notes. Under the woody aspects, dark, almost stewed,
cherries and plums lurked. The Perrins hinted at "raspberry" on the back
label, but all of the fruit now, was much darker. In the mouth, the dark
berries/stone-fruit predominated, though the wood was still present. Cedar was
easy to break out, but the oak was a little bit more tricky. I'd liken it to
how an oak plank, that has been long soaked in water tastes – noticeable oak,
but with a slightly sour note. There were also some almost Côtes-Rôtie, smoked
aspect. The finish went on for a count of thirty, but by that time, I had to
have another sip, so I can't even speculate beyond that. I tasted the wine
during cooking, and then paired it with some Southern Fried Chicken, black-
eyed peas (really earthy notes there), and roasted garlic mashed potatoes with
artisanal cheddar (UK patrons, please note lowercase "c." This is not the real
stuff, but is close.), toasted to a golden brown. I was a little suspect that
the Côtes-du-Rhône would overpower everything on the plate, but I was very
wrong. Maybe it was my wife's secret herbs and spices, or the overnight
buttermilk soaking, but it went fantastically. The black-eyed peas, with a bit
of crispy bacon was the best pair on the table.

The wine came directly from the cellar at 55 F, and warmed over time. The
first sips were probably at a temp closer to 60 F. Even as the wine warmed a
bit, the alcohol (12.5%) was never even noticed. Tasting was in Riedel Vinum
Bordeaux stem.

I'm glad that I still have four of the ‘96s in the cellar. Recently, I've not
found many Côtes-du-Rhônes that really did much for me. Most seemed too thin,
dilute, and lacking in character. This one was anything but dilute. It might
be too concentrated for some, but was "good to the last drop," with apologies
to Folger's Coffee. Actually, with the sediment, I really didn't get the "last
drop." Talk about difficult, pouring from a Burgundy/Rhône bottle, and NOT get
the sediment. Maybe the Perrins should have broken with tradition, and used a
Bordeaux-shaped bottle for this little monster.

Hunt