Finally, here's the second part of my tasting notes for tonight. It took me a few minutes to decide what to do with the Campo Viejo Crianza 2006 - at first, I thought I could merely cork the bottle, sit it outside on the sidewalk, and - to paraphrase Mao - let a thousand unintended pregnancies bloom, but that would of course have been grossly irresponsible of me. Down the sink it went; yes, I did recycle.
Now, on to this wine. My first thought on opening the bottle was simple "Oh, wait, this is a real wine." I know, how haughty of me, but really: this didn't smell of simple berries and fruit. This wine smells of, well, wine. There's almost a hazelnut or roasted-coffee-biscotti note around the edge of it; it seems clear to me that this wine has seen a fair whack of oak. There's also a lingering hint of some of the same vanilla berry notes from the regular version of the wine, but in a very tastefully restrained manner: it's the difference between Versailles before and after Jeff Koons. What it really smells like, though, is proper Rioja: this reminds me of random bottles of Spanish wines happily drunk on holiday in Madrid with friends a few years back. What fruit there is is fastidiously framed by a hint of sourness, appetizing woody-coffee notes, and a sense of place. In short, whatever went missing from the crianza is here in the reserva.
Taste-wise, there's a brief, soft opening of gentle fruit that fairly rapidly fans out into an elegant, lacy interplay between reasonable, appetizing acidity, something like gentle earth, restrained berry fruits, soft vanillic effects, and then it all rides out quietly on somber, toasty oak. It's the acidity that really ties the glass together, though; without it, this would be too soft, too easy. The overall effect is of eating delicious cake with a short espresso, I reckon; you get both the vanilla cherry pie and the upright tannins - but not too much, because then this wine wouldn't really be Spanish.
The most impressive thing here is to me the remarkable lightness of this wine. Compare to New World wines, this just doesn't go as far down the tonal register, which makes it a refreshing change from the usual. This also means (I think) that this is another one to pair with sausages or grilled meats: it would work wonders. For me, it's doing just fine with simple spaghetti bolognese, but it could have been so much more.
Finally, I feel compelled to publicly wonder about something that utterly baffles me: this wine is selling for just $10 at The Wine Exchange in Orange, California. How can this be? If the cheap version of this is $9, why is this only a buck more and - more interestingly - why is it so much better?
Disclaimer: I didn't spend my own money on this bottle, but I also didn't agree to anything.
Now, on to this wine. My first thought on opening the bottle was simple "Oh, wait, this is a real wine." I know, how haughty of me, but really: this didn't smell of simple berries and fruit. This wine smells of, well, wine. There's almost a hazelnut or roasted-coffee-biscotti note around the edge of it; it seems clear to me that this wine has seen a fair whack of oak. There's also a lingering hint of some of the same vanilla berry notes from the regular version of the wine, but in a very tastefully restrained manner: it's the difference between Versailles before and after Jeff Koons. What it really smells like, though, is proper Rioja: this reminds me of random bottles of Spanish wines happily drunk on holiday in Madrid with friends a few years back. What fruit there is is fastidiously framed by a hint of sourness, appetizing woody-coffee notes, and a sense of place. In short, whatever went missing from the crianza is here in the reserva.
Taste-wise, there's a brief, soft opening of gentle fruit that fairly rapidly fans out into an elegant, lacy interplay between reasonable, appetizing acidity, something like gentle earth, restrained berry fruits, soft vanillic effects, and then it all rides out quietly on somber, toasty oak. It's the acidity that really ties the glass together, though; without it, this would be too soft, too easy. The overall effect is of eating delicious cake with a short espresso, I reckon; you get both the vanilla cherry pie and the upright tannins - but not too much, because then this wine wouldn't really be Spanish.
The most impressive thing here is to me the remarkable lightness of this wine. Compare to New World wines, this just doesn't go as far down the tonal register, which makes it a refreshing change from the usual. This also means (I think) that this is another one to pair with sausages or grilled meats: it would work wonders. For me, it's doing just fine with simple spaghetti bolognese, but it could have been so much more.
Finally, I feel compelled to publicly wonder about something that utterly baffles me: this wine is selling for just $10 at The Wine Exchange in Orange, California. How can this be? If the cheap version of this is $9, why is this only a buck more and - more interestingly - why is it so much better?
Disclaimer: I didn't spend my own money on this bottle, but I also didn't agree to anything.
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