Older and Wiser

What is it about drinking a wine older than oneself that is so incredibly humbling?

Once again, I think the answer lies in seeing wine as a living being.  Like grape must going through alcoholic fermentation, when we are babies we develop rapidly each day.  We grow not in only in size but also in personality just as the juice transforms physically but also begins to express itself in terms of its color, acid, alcohol, and tannic qualities.  Then there is late childhood where we learn to calm down, sit still, and see the world outside of our own personal progression.  This can be seen as the wine's settling period after the primary fermentation is finished.  Next, we enter the awkward teenage years, where again we are changing quickly, which explains why wines going through the secondary, malolactic fermentation can taste so out of whack and rebellious.  Finally, once this second fermentation is finished the wine is mature like a young adult, ready to take on the world but still vulnerable and unsure.  We find our life path, get placed in a profession (or a glass bottle), and begin to slowly age.  Theoretically, as long as we take care of ourselves, we get better and better with age, benefitting from the passage of time and experience like a wine evolving slowly in the cellar.

Yesterday I was lucky enough to drink a 1982 Corton-Charlemagne from the old cellar of what is now Domaine de Croix with David and friends.  The wine's old man wrinkles took the form of a faded, orangey-gold coloring.  The nose was woolly, comforting, and the palate revealed stories that only come with age ("Back in my day, we had to walk five miles in the snow to get to school...").  Each swirl and taste hinted at a new layer of lived experience.  Salted butter gave way to crème brulée and finally baked apples, but the notes were subtle, subdued, like grandpa in his armchair.

So I guess what is humbling is that drinking a wine like this makes me feel so young.  Like I haven't lived long enough or quite earned the right yet to drink a wine that has seen more days than I have.  I can only hope that I am as interesting, open, and wise in my old age.