I.L. Ruffino - 1970 chianti [Italy]

Now, you may be thinking, "awesome, this wine blog guy scored some amazing old wine and he's going to serve with it with a tasty fantastic meal for which he slaved for hours in a hot kitchen, uphill both ways, in the snow, etc." Well, I've got good news and bad news. I did score some old wine, that's for sure - I was able to get my hands on a forty-seven year-old bottle of Chianti, grape blend unknown, produced in 1970 by the I.L. Ruffino concern out of Pontassieve in the Florence province of Tuscany. Its bulbous bottle comes in the iconic wicker basket, called fiaschi, and looks like many other bottles of Chianti produced to this day.

That's the good news. The bad news is, not all old wine is good wine. Not all grapes or vintages are suitable for aging, and just like price is not a good indicator of quality, age is not always suggestive of how great a wine is. Care must be taken when aging wine, as factors such as vintage, grape, environment, light, heat, and proper storage all contribute.

According to my father, my late grandmother bought this bottle because she liked the look of it - not because it was a candidate for spectacular aging. Now, under the right circumstances, i.e. a cool and dusty Italian cantina, certain kinds of Chianti can last for quite some time, so it's not beyond the realm of possibility.  But that assumes both the wine was a good candidate for aging, and that it was kept in proper conditions. I doubt either is the case here. One look at the wine in the light says all I need to know about that - look at that coloring. Yuck.

Nope.

There's one other, more major problem - and probably the most concerning - there seems to be a tiny leak in the cork. Corks do leak from time to time, and while it's not always fatal, it's never good. A leaky cork means that air and microbes can get into the wine and mess with it (technical term.) Any air leakage allows for the wine to evaporate, as well - in this case, it looks like about 20% of the wine's total volume is missing. As I press the top of the waxlike cap with my finger, a little bit of liquid seeps out. Hopes are not high.

Before we can try it, it must first be decanted. This means we have to gently pour it through a filter - today we're using a paper coffee filter, although I would have preferred a gold mesh screen. This is to filter out the sediment and particles. Unlike yeasty Belgian beers, I am very hesitant to eat this sediment.

So here's the wine after it's been decanted. Notice the color - a light hay color, like a whiskey. There's no aroma.

Now the moment of truth - I'm going to try it. Watching this spectacle is my brother Dan, mother Kathy, and aunt Jayne - yet I am the only one foolhardy enough to try it. Bottoms up!

You know what - it's not terrible. Obviously it's not anything close to what it was, nor is it appetizing, but rather than some disgusting brackish liquid, it's just...bland. It reminds me a lot of cheap cream sherry - oxidized, flat, and flavorless. There's a tiny bit of vinegar notes in there, but nothing like the industrial cleaning solvent I was expecting. My brother did end up having some, and remarked that the texture reminded him of an old port.

I had a few more sips and tossed it, and then poured the rest of the wine out into my glass unfiltered. Here's the junk at the bottom:

Gross.

This should be a lesson to all you wine lovers out there to take care of your wine. If you buy a bottle of wine, be very careful to store it properly. Keep it out of direct light, away from a heat source, and on its side. Consult an expert if you're not sure. If you bought a bottle in the store, and you're not sure if you should age it or not, it's better to drink early than to wait.