Curse of the White Rhone

This will be an unusual post for several reasons. Firstly, I wouldn't normally drink a white Rhone. Mr Quaff is, as you know, very fond of the region's reds, and justly so, and I have tried with true spousal loyalty to find a white that I like from the producers we prefer -- Guigal, Jaboulet, anyone. Nonetheless, I find the whites from the region singularly unappealing, fat and blowsy, even the fancy ones like Condrieu, which is voignier anyway. Indeed, as I'm sure I have mentioned before, the one single glass of pleasing white Rhone I have ever encountered was in a wine bar in Avignon. Nonetheless, I found myself in possesion of a bottle of Domaine des Remizieres Cuvee Emilie Hermitage 2000. A bottle that cost just shy of $50 -- the other reason this is an unusual post. I've been meaning to open it for a while, on a night with a good home-cooked meal. The evaporation of a forecast thunderstorm and a fetching branzino at the local market conspired to make this the night. With a salad of dandelion greens, fava beans, and mint and a crusty whole wheat baguette, we had just the sort of easy meal we love to savour over sunset on our west-facing deck. And this wine. Which completely overpowered the meal. I admit I was rather expecting it to, but we had to drink it sometime. Still, this is a very full-bodied wine -- an oenological version of Scarlett Johansson's muffin-top in Match Point -- as is apparent as soon as it sees a glass. I don't think I've ever seen a wine this yellow, and to be honest it's a little offputting to sip something that so resembles urine. One sniff of course reveals it to be nothing so acrid, indeed it was very honeyed on the nose. In the mouth it's all baked goods, just oozing vanilla and butter. This baby has seen a lot of oak. Like the 1998 Leflaive Puligny-Montrachet I had by the glass at the Modern last week, it was noticeably more in balance with the rest of the wine's flavours, and I could understand why white wines are sometimes oaked and even how they might appeal to some tastes. But I emerge from the experience only more convinced that what I want out of white wine is tart leanness, not this rich unctuousness. Honeydew melon, which we both found to be among the dominating tastes in this bottle, is lovely to eat but less so to sip. This particular bottle featured mostly Marsanne with a small quantity of Roussanne, the two white Rhone varietals (the exception being Condrieu, see above).