Jadot Beaune Boucherottes, premier cru 1993
In 1993, when the grapes were being harvested for this wine, we had been married for almost seven years. What were we doing then? We didn’t have a computer yet. We didn’t even anticipate getting a computer, and had zero idea of what the internet was or would be. We were positive that once the carriage return bug was fixed on our latest model Sharp word processor, it would be all we would ever need.
T reproduced the occasional, sudden and inexplicable carriage return error in the word processor by typing many many Js in a row. He had just learned how to type, using Mum’s 1940s typing textbook from when she was learning how to be a stenographer:
fff jjj fff jjj fff jjj fff jjj fff jjj
jjj fff jjj fff jjj fff jjj fff jjj fff
fjf fjf fjf jfj jfj ffj jjf ffj jjf fjf
When we took the processor in to have it fixed under warranty, we told them how to reproduce the error. They called back the next day to say it was fixed, as well as to ask “why on earth would anyone want to type that many Js?”
While those Beaune Boucherotte grapes were ripening, T’s dad flew to Toronto, bringing his bicycle with him, and introduced us to the wonders of bicycling day trips out in the countryside (Kingston and Prince Edward County). I still had my 1972 10-speed Sekine and T had his second-hand 10-speed that he had bought a couple of years before. Neither of us wore helmets!
I remember being horrified as we rode in the rain, south toward Kingston, on the shoulder, being sprayed by what seemed like zillions of big rig trucks (there were probably 3…). But mostly, the bicycling and weather was wonderful.
This photo was taken by T’s dad in Kingston – outside Bellevue House – home of Sir John A Macdonald (1848–1849). 1993 was long before we had any inkling that John A Macdonald would be vilified for being racist, misogynistic, and warmongering. I think all we knew was that in spite of being a binge drinker, he founded Canada….
Because we were with T’s dad, we lived the high life, dining in style. T still dreams of the prime rib he had in Prince Edward County. He says now that he’d never had that good a roast beef ever – and still hasn’t. And probably never will – we rarely eat beef now and certainly are unlikely to splurge on Prime Rib.
Which doesn’t explain at all why we opened this bottle of Jadot 1993 last week; it wasn’t a special occasion at all.
This is why: Last week, on Monday, we rode our bikes to the LCBO to replenish our every day wine shelf. We congratulated ourselves for choosing the right time of day: there was no line up.
Duh. Of course there was no line up. Since March, the LCBO has been closed on Mondays….
Now, it’s not as if we can’t have dinner if there’s no wine. But it’s nice to have wine…. Hence, T took a look at our ever-dwindling stash of fancy wine purchased back in the last century.
To make sure that dinner was appropriate, T reduced chicken stock until it was syrup-like and laid thin slices of left-over charcoal grilled pork. He served oven-roasted potatoes, and steamed asparagus with lemon and butter on the side.
Once again, we ate like kings.
And the wine? It was delicious. In spite of its advanced age, it still had notes of fruit and sweet spices. WHAT must it have been like at its prime?!
(We poured a glass for our next-door neighbours to taste, asking them what they had been doing in 1993. I half-jokingly said that they hadn’t even been born in 1993. E said that HE had!! S was silent. I’m guessing that if she had been born, she may have been 1 or 2 years old and couldn’t really remember anything at all from 1993…. Neither of them said what they were doing in 1993, but they were thrilled to taste such old wine.)
Looking at the photos, we realized that it was way past time (duh!) to clean the window. LOOK at the difference!!
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