Facing sticky wine situations Nos. 1-3

No sooner had I written a column of advice on handling sticky wine situations in restaurants than I found myself in the midst of one. It has led me down some very interesting trails.

To set the stage: Just before Thanksgiving, Mrs. G and I were out with friends at a cozy bistro. Our friends had brought an excellent bottle from their cellar — a 2003 Isenhower Malbec (sold through their wine club only) — that we were enjoying so thoroughly that it was clear a second bottle would be needed.

The wine list was produced, and a quick scan revealed a hidden gem — a 1982 Château de Cayrou, from Cahors. Cahors, in the southwest of France, produces good-value red wines blended mostly from malbec, which the locals refer to as cot or sometimes auxerrois. I can't pretend to know much about how these wines age, but 1982 was reasonably kind to Bordeaux (just ask Mr. Robert Parker) and so it seemed as if this wine had a shot. At $75, it seemed worth the risk.

The wine was ordered and the bottle appeared. Just as the cork was about to be pulled, I glanced at the label. It read 1999. Sticky wine situation No. 1: wrong vintage. Should it have been caught by the restaurant? Absolutely. But it is always best to do your own inspection. I reminded our server that the wine list had promised an '82.

Apparently the distributor had accidentally slipped a '99 in with the '82s, I was told. A second bottle bore the correct date. The proprietor, who was now becoming a bit flustered, began struggling with the cork, which promptly began to disintegrate. Sticky wine situation No. 2: trouble in cork-ville. By the time the battle was over, the cork lay shredded before me. Plunging ahead, I gave it a sniff. More bad news — it reeked of TCA.

A little wine was poured into my glass. By now the whole table was riveted on the unfolding drama. Believe me, I hate to be Mr. Wine Critic when I'm out with friends. At first, the wine seemed dull but not dreadful. A second sniff, however, confirmed that this was a corked bottle and nothing good was going to happen as it breathed. Sticky wine situation No. 3: corked wine.

I apologized for the trouble, but said it was unacceptable. The proprietor graciously took it back and brought out a third bottle — his last. Again, a touchy cork began to shred. There is a trick to removing corks of a certain age, and this was clearly a learning experience for our host. Finally it came out, and before the bottle could be snatched away (presumably to remove bits of cork from the wine), I grabbed it and poured it into the decanter.

A lovely aroma immediately filled the room. The wine was soft, relatively light but perfumed and elegant, with the grace and evanescent polish of age. The bits of cork were a minor nuisance at best. The owner smiled, I smiled, our friends smiled, and wine, once again, revealed its unique ability to create — how else to put it? — live theater.

Malbec is a grape that is beginning to prove itself in Washington. In addition to the excellent Isenhower we tasted, I've had recent releases of varietally labeled malbec (meaning it composes at least 75 percent of the blend) from Walla Walla Vintners, Three Rivers, RiverAerie, Gamache and Sagelands. Outside of Argentina, it is hard to find benchmarks for these pioneering efforts. This 25-year-old Cahors, well preserved and ripened to perfection at just 12.5 percent alcohol, suggested that malbec might well prove to be at least as ageworthy as merlot, if not cabernet sauvignon.

I was intrigued enough to see what I could learn about the wine. In Paul Strang's sadly out-of-print "Wines of Southwest France" (Kyle Cathie Limited, 1994) I found a detailed history of Cahors. In pre-phylloxera times the region was known for its so-called black wines, made by heating the grapes in ovens before fermenting them, to concentrate the color and strengthen the alcohol.

But even then the locals preferred drinking the lighter table wines, more like the '82 I stumbled upon. As long ago as the early 1800s a local expert, Dr. Jules Guyot (best known for his experiments in the pruning of vines), mourned the fact that these excellent table wines were being ignored:

"The trade does not buy them, they are interested only in depth of colour. Today industry has created synthetic wines based on ... blending and cooking."

Plus ça change, etc.

Cahors has survived the abuses of the trade, the ravages of phylloxera, two world wars and many other trials and tribulations since Guyot's lament. It was given its own appellation contrôlée in 1971, when a man named Jean Jouffreau purchased the Château de Cayrou property. The new AC regulations required that Cahors wines be at least 70 percent auxerrois (malbec), with merlot and tannat composing the rest.

Jouffreau replanted the vineyard, while his son-in-law, a trained enologist, brought modern technology to bear on the winemaking. Though the Cayrou wines are considered old-fashioned, they are really just Old World, rather than attempting to be what is today glibly known as International in style.

Jouffreau, whose family also owns Clos de Gamot and Clos St. Jean, is now esteemed as one of the pioneers of the Cahors revival. Along with his properties, other well-regarded Cahors producers include Caminade (distributed by Triage), Château du Cèdre, Clos la Coutale (a Kermit Lynch selection, distributed by Cavatappi) and Château Gaudou (distributed by Grape Expectations). Also available in this market are wines of Domaine la Berangerie (distributed by Cordon) and Coustarelle (distributed by Noble).

These are the sorts of wines that are quite popular in the U.K., Holland and Belgium. If you prefer red wines with a lower level of alcohol (rarely above 12.5 percent), and favor elegance over fruit jam, they will please you. Wines such as Cahors more effectively capture the flavors of their particular terroir than many of the blowsy New World wines that claim to have terroir when they do not. Better still, most wines of Cahors sell for $10 to $15, at least until the crashing dollar is felt.

You may have to special order them from your local wine shop. I suggest you drink them with the sort of French country food that is so satisfying at this time of the year. That includes confit, cassoulet, grilled duck breast, leg of lamb, smoked ham and game such as boar, venison and rabbit. And if you should stumble upon an older bottle, as I did, it would be wise to have an Ah-So on hand.

Pioneering vintner dies

Stan Clarke, 57, a pioneering viticulturalist, vintner and teacher in the Washington wine industry, died unexpectedly at his Waitsburg home last Thursday. For the past five years, he had been the associate director for Walla Walla Community College's Institute for Enology and Viticulture.

It was my great pleasure to have known Stan for almost 25 years. In his younger days, he took a fledgling wine writer on many a vineyard tour, enthusiastically explaining the subtleties of pruning and trellising, the seasons of the vine, and the ripening cycle. He was unassuming, plain-spoken, passionate about wine, and generous to a fault.

Paul Gregutt is the author of "Washington Wines and Wineries

The Essential Guide." His column appears weekly in the Wine section.

He can be reached by e-mail at wine@seattletimes.com.