Opening That Bottle: Remelluri Rioja 2001 Reserva
When old friends drank old wine
This is the first in a series about special uncorking moments—of either wines from my own collection or of someone else’s. These are the stories about when it was time for that wine!
Recently, I invited an old friend I hadn’t seen in person for a while over for dinner. It was one of the more lion-esque nights of mid March in New York City, when the sky is clear, crisp, and stinging cold.
Dinner was a couple of hours away. I checked the stash in the wine fridge. It’s one of those Haier ones, the kind that holds 18 bottles in two stacks, making it more NYC apartment friendly because of its slim design. As a bonus, it creates a convenient extra counter space for things like utensil holders and an electric kettle, which most New Yorkers don’t have the surface area to store in a standard kitchenette. I haven’t kept an extensive collection of cellared wines like some of my other wine writer friends, but the ones I have in there, filling all 18 slots, are meaningful to me for various reasons.
I started at the top, pulling bottles out one by one. Nope. Nope. Another time. Nope. Maybe…
Not that they weren’t “ready”—any of them are drinkable now, it just had to be the right one. It had to taste good alongside the lamb tagine that was simmering on the stove (my own recipe below). It also had to pair with an evening of long overdue catching up and recharging a decades’ old friendship.
Halfway down the stack, my hand settled on the bottle. I knew it well. It was the one I considered to be the most special in my judiciously tiny collection. It was the sole remaining souvenir from my stint as a floor consultant and assistant spirits buyer at Astor Wines in the early 2000s—a Remelluri Rioja 2001 Reserva.
I don’t know if it’s true now, but back then, one of the perks of working there was a deep discount on most of the inventory. I picked up the Remelluri ‘01 at the suggestion of my friend Kerin Auth (now Kerin Auth Bembry), a Spanish wine authority and the co-founder of La Luz Selections, who advised that 2001 would be the great Rioja vintage for cellaring. It wasn’t one of the most baller wines in the display case at the store. It didn’t carry a sexy classification like Gran Reserva, or even Crianza, but it was still given prime real estate on that shelf. I was willing to wait it out and find out why it was put in such a place of prominence by the then buyer.
On the night of that special dinner in my kitchen, it was over two decades old. What was I saving it for? My 50th birthday had come and gone. It had already been almost four years since the worst president we’ve ever had was officially elected out of office. At this point, that bottle was straight up languishing.
What’s better than opening a spectacular bottle for a meal cooked with love for a cherished friend I’ve dearly missed?
Not much.
The thing is, I wasn’t entirely convinced this wine was going to be all that. I might have waited too long. It might be over the hill. Or worse. Corked.
Well, if it sucked, there was backup.
The cork came out easily. Phew! I put that down and sniffed the open bottle. There was a leathery smokiness wafting out of it that was concerning at first, but I caught an underlying whiff of fresh blackberries. No wet newspaper or damp terrier smells.
“Huh,” I said.
“No?” he questioned.
“I dunno. Let’s see,” I said, pouring it into the decanter.
The first couple of sips were tight and earthy, a little tart. More rhubarb than berries. I dished out the tagine as he coaxed my cat Jasper off the table.
I let the wine breathe in the glass for a moment, then took another sip. The flavors were slowly beginning to fan out on my palate like peacock feathers. Soon I could actually taste colors—black earth, purple fruit, green olives, and reddish spices. My favorite Riojas have always given me tasting notes of cola spices and leather, and here they were (light brown and mahogany), but with more subtlety than I had ever tasted before. The balanced acidity of the wine matched the sweet, pungent lamb stew at every mouthful. But had I chosen to make duck or even pasta with a tomato ragu, it would have been equally as worthy a pairing.
Remelluri is a wine that has been made on an estate in the valleys of the Sierra de Toloño mountains in Rioja Alavesa since the 15th century. Modern winemaking began there in the late 1960s when the estate was purchased by Jaime Rodríguez Salís, with the first vintage around my birth year, 1971. The high altitudes of the grape farming yield fruit that is known for its structure and longevity.
The grapes for the 2001 vintage were a blend of Tempranillo, Garnacha, and Graciano. The current Reserva vintage is 2015 and certified organic (the winery had not yet been officially certified in the 2001 vintage, though they were already using those farming practices).
“Those wines were built to last,” Auth commented when I posted a photo of the bottle on my Instagram.
Speaking of lasting…
At dinner, my friend and I had long since given up on keeping Jasper off the table. It didn’t matter. At that point our plates were clean, and our conversation touched on meaningful topics, but in a comforting, easy way.
“That’s goooood,” he said, as I refilled his glass.
I smiled. “Life is good,” I said.
Lamb Tagine-ish
Start the recipe at least 4 hours ahead of when you plan to eat it.
Serves 5 hungry people, and also freezes well.
1.5 lbs lamb shoulder, cut for stew (this will also work with pork tenderloin, venison, or beef. You could also make this with bone-in chicken pieces, or a mix of chicken parts and merguez sausage)
2 TB extra virgin olive oil
1 tsp cumin seeds
1 peeled onion, chopped
2 peeled carrots, cut into coins or cubes
2 stalks celery, chopped
3 peeled garlic cloves, chopped
1/2 inch of fresh ginger root, grated
1/2 cup dry wine (honestly, either red or white works) or medium dry sherry or hey, make it with dry or red vermouth
2 cups stock (I use vegetable)
2 dried medjool dates, pitted and chopped into small pieces
5 dried apricots, chopped into small pieces
1 preserved lemon (I buy the ones at Sahadi’s)
1 TB Ras el-hanout seasoning mix (also at Sahadi’s, in specialty stores, or online)
1 TB Hawaijj seasoning (or mix turmeric with garam masala) (it’s a really useful seasoning that’s great in other soups or as a seasoning for roasts. You’ll use it up. Trust me.)
1 bay leaf
bunch of fresh thyme (optional)
water, as needed, usually about a cup or so
1.5 cups cooked chickpeas (optional)
10 olives, black or green or both, pitted but left whole (optional)
chopped cilantro, (optional)
In a tagine or large enamel dutch oven, heat the oil on medium. Brown the meat on all sides. Remove from the pan and set aside on a plate.
Reduce heat to low-medium. Add the cumin seeds and let them sizzle for a few seconds, then add the onion, carrots, and celery, scraping up the browned bits. Cook, stirring occasionally, a few more minutes until softened. Add the garlic and ginger and cook, stirring, for about another minute.
Add the wine, stir, and, raise the heat back to medium. Once the mixture begins to bubble, stir again and reduce heat to simmer for about 4 minutes. Then add the stock, along with the dates, apricots, and browned protein with its juices. Bring to a boil, then simmer.
While that's happening, cut the lemon in half, pick out the seeds and discard them, then squeeze the juices into the stew. Remove the pulp and plop it in (it will disintegrate, no need to chop). Now chop the peels and add those into the stew (they also disintegrate).
Add the seasonings, bay leaf, and thyme if using.
Let all that simmer on low heat, covered, for 2 hours, stirring occasionally. There should be at least 1/4 to 1/2 an inch of liquid over the chunky bits. Add water if that level gets too low (you want to avoid burning the bottom layer) and stir. Keep checking on it. Better to add more liquid at this stage then later.
After about 2 hours, add the olives, if using, for the final hour of cooking.
Add the chickpeas (if using) for the final half hour of cooking.
Turn off heat and add cilantro (if using). Remove any dried herbs.
Serve with couscous, over polenta, over rice, or just on its own. Once plated, add some harissa for a little extra heat.
Pro tip: this is even better the next day.
What a lovely evening. We should all have more of these.
Life is good, Amanda. This post was too. Thanks for that! 👏👏👏