Soul Searching

After a pleasant reintroduction to the Gotham Grill on 12th Street (it had been years since I had been there), I was totally surprised by an exquisite find on their wine list. I was feeling in an uncharacteristically adventurous mood (in terms of wine), and I saw something on the wine list that piqued my interest. There was a Rhone by Chateau Rayas - the great CNdP producer. I didn’t know that they made a regular Rhone wine.

A little background, sometime in the early 90’s, I was in France tooling around, and I got it in my head to visit the Rhone valley. In particular, the famed Chateau Neuf du Pape - where so many of my favorite wines were produced. Don’t get me wrong, I like a good red table Rhone as much as the next guy, but i was weened on the CNdP and it has a special place in my heart. So, off to find the Motherland. I drove all around the valley, but since it was not peak season, most places were closed. A few weren’t and I went in and did tastings.

Ah Mecca. One of the places that was open for a visit was Beaucastel. They had a special group visiting and graciously allowed me to participate in a great vertical tasting that the group had set up. It was magnificent. Needless to say I was wandering around with an ever increasing load of wine on my back. Finally, when i couldn’t carry anymore and the sun was starting to creep behind the hills, I loaded up the car and hit the road back to Languedoc (where I was staying). On my way out of the valley (I was lost) I came upon a fence that had a strangely familiar crest on it. I stopped, got out of the car, and went to investigate.

The gate was slightly ajar. Not being familiar with the laws in rural France, I pondered the possibility of ending up on the wrong side of a shotgun. Hmmm, this isn’t Texas, but there definitely was lots of French influence in Louisiana… Ahh, what the hell? You only live once. Keeping a wary eye surveying my surroundings for the quick silent gallop of Dobermans, I advanced to the Chateau. It looked closed down, so I went around back where there was an old guy going in and out of some kind of large garage. He didn’t see me for quite a while, as he scampered out to a beat up old car and back in to the garage muttering to himself under breath. The only word I heard clearly was “putain!” which was about every third word out of his mouth. This did not bode well. Putting on a brave face I braved his ferocious ramblings and said hello. He nearly had a stroke on the spot! The stream of French expletives out of his mouth seemed to make his previous monologue seem clean. Once he had finally run out of some of the filthiest phrases I had ever heard, and stopped opening and closing his mouth in shock, he asked me what I was doing there. I told him I had wanted to see the greatest CNdP producer in France - Rayas. To which he replied “of course, as everyone that loves good wine does. But we’re closed. You have to leave.”

I rustled up the best French I could and told him the rather long story of my relationship with the wine. Either he got tired of hearing deplorable French, or the longing in my eyes got to him because he softened and drew me into garage (muttering curses under his breath, this time without the vehemence).

And what to my wondering eyes did appear? Like Christmas, the sparkling of thousands of bottles everywhere. They were bottling and labeling in this giant “garage.” Spectacular! My eyes raced, full of boyish curiosity. He went about his business. After a 15 or 20 minutes of perusing I worked up the nerve to ask him to buy a few bottles. A completely new stream of expletives (from what seemed to be an inexhaustible source) emerged. We don’t do that kind of thing… etc. I reminded him of the poignant story – which he had apparently forgotten, and it had the same effect. He softened. Oh well, I guess it won’t hurt anyone. But just a few! Merde! These blasted foreigners! Who can blame them. best damn wine on the planet. Just a few bottles. After profusely thanking him, I left walking on clouds. I saved the bottles for the prescribed 15 years (as I had been told to), and when I finally opened them they were exquisite!

Needless to say, the Rhone by Rayas is not the same as their fabled ChNdP but it is a really fun and interesting table wine. Great for steak, like the fabulous one they serve at Gotham.