1985 Dom Perignon

At some point during the mid-1980s, my father was given a gift of a bottle of 1985 Dom Perignon champagne. It's a beautiful green bottle and comes in its own cardboard display box, with a little pamphlet explaining (in English and French) all you'd need to know about this peach of a sparkler.

So in the 1980s, the bottle was given. And there it sat, in my father's basement. Through the end of the Reagan and Bush years. Through Clinton's two terms. Through the entire Bush spectacle. And finally, through the opening moves of the Obama administration. Why? Out of reluctance, I imagine, to drink what one has. To save rather than to savor, own rather than drink. This makes me think of the verb To Have. Its double-meaning couldn't be better expressed than in this desire to both have a wine stored safely in the basement, and to have it with friends. Is the fear that by having a wine one might feel had?

In any case, I imagine some time in the early '90s would have been an auspicious year for uncorking this fine wine. Unfortunately, 2010 has proved to be a few administrations too late.

Why? The wine was, after all, drinkable. The sparks still flew across the tongue, and one could even say that all that time had enriched the light champagne, added texture and depth. There were distinct flavors of burnt toast, caramel, honey, and soft wood. I've read tasting notes from vintage Dom Perignons, and often the descriptor is "sherry-like," which seems right. The color was gorgeous, a saturated ochre. It was mature and wise.

And yet, it wasn't very pleasing to drink. I had to draw on purely intellectual capacities to enjoy it, to tell myself that something here was special. In fact, it probably was special. But ripeness, in this case, is not all.

So, Caveat Imbiber: have your wine.