Here’s an interesting and unusual conjunction of wines that we tried in the last week of March, 1984, on the 26 through the 28th, like two days away from 25 years ago. One was a failure, one a triumph.

I remember hesitating for weeks before buying the Chateau Beychevelle 1977, from Bordeaux’s commune of Saint-Julien, because I knew that it might not be too good. In my favorite wine volume at the time, and still one of my favorites, The Great Vintage Wine Book (Alfred A. Knopf, 1982), Michael Broadbent calls 1977 “one of the least inspiring vintages of the decade,” so, having pored over Broadbent’s annotations numerous times, I can’t say that I wasn’t warned. You know though, there it was on the shelf, it’s a Fourth Growth (according to the Classification of 1855), the chateau possesses ancient and noble lineage, the label is classy — and it was only $10, so I ponied up.

It was terrible. My notes: “Reflects the year. Brownish rim; some typical cabernet nose; a bare glance at complexity, some earthiness, but basically weak — an impression of tiredness and thinness.” So there.

The blend at Beychevelle, by the way, tends to be about 62 percent cabernet sauvignon, 31 percent merlot, five percent cabernet franc and two percent petit verdot.

Fortunately, those same days, we consumed a bottle of the Mayacamas Vineyards Sauvignon Blanc 1980, which at the time carried a California appellation.

The winery was founded, high on Napa Valley’s Mount Veeder, in 1889 by German immigrant John Henry Fisher. He went bankrupt after a few years, and the winery was abandoned and fell derelict, until it was purchased in 1941, in a pioneering move, by Jack and Mary Taylor. They sold the property, in 1968, to Robert and Elinor Travers, who still own it. The winery’s reputation stands on its rock-ribbed, long-aging cabernet sauvignon wines, and I’ll tell you the truth. If someone, say a bright and shining angel, came to me and said, “F.K., you have been such a Good Boy and so exemplary in thought, word and deed, that I am going to offer you the chance to experience vertical tastings of any Napa Valley cabernets your heart desires,” I would say forget the cult cabernets, the new darlings of collectors, the Screaming Eagles and so on, and give me the old mountainside wines, Mayacamas, Mount Veeder, Diamond Creek, Dunn, let me feel the rich austerity and dignity of the altitudes.

Anyway, Mayacamas makes about 5,000 cases of wine a year, of which about 600 cases are sauvignon blanc that is given a short aging in American oak. Now I’ll confess that I have not seen a Mayacamas Sauvignon Blanc on a retail shelf for decades, in fact, not since the one under discussion here, so that’s 25 years ago. Nor have I seen a zinfandel from this winery, and zinfandel is not listed as part of the production on the website, but one of the most memorable wines of my career remains the Mayacamas Late Harvest Zinfandel 1984.

Anyway, the Mayacamas Sauvignon Blanc 1980, California, was splendid, sporting a pale straw color, a spare, elegant bouquet with touches of lemon and spice, “full body, exceptional balance, suave and smooth, dry.” It was certainly the best sauvignon blanc wine I had tasted up to that point and serves, in many ways, even today, as a model of excellence in my memory.

In this chronicle of 100 wines, readers, it’s March 1984, yes, a hair less than 25 years ago. We drank a variety of wines that month, of course, including the Callaway Petite Sirah 1975 from Temecula (“the most intense wine I’ve ever tasted” — $9.99) and a thrilling Mayacamas Sauvignon Blanc 1980 (“exceptional balance, suave and smooth” — $10.99). Two of the wines, though, were so memorable that even today I remember how knocked out by them I was. Both were from a producer that doesn’t seem to earn much praise or even thought nowadays, the venerable Simi Winery in Sonoma County.

We drank the Simi Cabernet Sauvignon 1979, Alexander Valley, on March 10, with sauerbraten cooked for a friend’s birthday. Here are my notes: “Can’t say enough about this wine: beautiful deep ruby color; wonderful nose — dry, dusty, tannic, fruity, cedarwood and cigar box undertones; same in the mouth — deep. complex, woody, mouth-filling, long finish.”

Without a doubt, the Simi Cabernet Sauvignon 1979 ($9.49) was the best red wine from California I had tasted up to that point in my life and would remain one of the best wines I tasted in an eventful year, in terms of my wine education. More about that later in this chronicle.

Then, on March 19-21, we drank what is one of the most memorable wines of my career as a wine drinker and (coming up with startling rapidity) writer. My first note on the Simi Pinot Noir 1974, Alexander Valley, is “Can’t praise this one enough.” Indeed, this nine-year-old pinot noir from a winery not noted for pinot noir wines is still one of the best examples of the grape I have tasted. “Beautiful fading brickish-red-brown color; mature subdued nose; soft & mellow, fruity still, a touch of the ripe earthiness of the pinot noir grape, full in the mouth, long finish — a really wonderful wine — a bargain at the price,” which was $8.49.

By the way, look at the alcohol levels on these wines: 13% for the cabernet, 12.5% for the pinot noir. Why strive for anything higher?

You may attribute my fervor for these wines to (relatively) youthful enthusiasm — I would turn 40 at the end of 1984 — but I promise that I remember them and my response to them clearly, even this morning as I type these words.

Isn’t that function of memory tied to sensual experience the reason why we drink wine, take notes on wine, think about wine, write about wine and savor the complete process?

We had fun with wine and learned a lot during the third and fourth weeks of February 1984.

(For readers who have not encountered my posts of “100 Wines: A Chronicle,” it’s a record of the 100 wines I learned the most from — not necessarily the best — beginning from when I first started reading about wine, tasting more wine and taking notes in 1983.)

We had been in New Orleans, visiting a former teaching colleague, and took the opportunity to go to Martin Wine Cellar, one of the great retail stores in the country. I bought bottles of Chateau Lynch-Bages 1979 and Chateau Cos d’Estournel 1979, and our friend gave me a bottle of Chateau Gruaud Larose 1979. Pretty heady stuff for the neophyte! Notice the prices: “Lunch Bags” (as the witty British fondly say) was $12.63; Cos was $14.35. I didn’t inquire about Gruaud, but it must have been right in there with the others.

Back home, in Senatobia, Miss., where we taught at a junior college, we tried Lynch Bages on Feb. 14-15, Cos d’Estournal Feb. 15-17, and Gruaud Larose Feb. 24-26.

The Left Bank communes of Bordeaux are the mother lode of cabernet sauvignon wines that serve as models for the rest of the world. These are all blends; while cabernet will dominate the wine of each chateau (to greater or lesser degree, depending on the chateau style and philosophy), merlot, cabernet franc and sometimes petit verdot find their places in the mix. The most prominent communes, north of the city of Bordeaux, are Margaux, Pauillac, Saint-Julien and Saint-Estèphe; down near and south of the city are Graves and Pessac-Leognan, where most estates also make white wine.

When we were at Martin Wine Cellars I deliberately chose examples from two communes, Pauillac and St.-Estèphe; that my friend gave us a bottle from St.-Julien was serendipitous. (The communes are indicated in red on the accompanying map). These are areas, and the chateaux I picked, that had been the reading material and the fodder of my imagination for two years. It was thrilling, then, to hold these bottles in my hand, to examine the labels familiar only in pictures, and to anticipate what the experience would be of sniffing and tasting them. This is the stuff upon which dreams of wine drinkers, collectors and writers are formed, legendary wines, three Classified Growths, promising sips not only of a vinous beverage but of the histories of people and places, of vineyards and pieces of earth.

The wines of the Left Bank were classified in 1855 in what was a frankly commercial endeavor designed to rank the chateaux for public attention, marketing and self-gratification. Sixty-one estates were selected and rated in First through Fifth Growths. When I first started reading about wine, and a guidebook would say that a chateau was a “Second Growth” or a “Fourth growth,” I had no idea what they were talking about; it was assumed that one knew. The 1855 Classification has remained in place except for one change; in 1973 (a terrible vintage) Mouton-Rothschild was elevated from Second to First Growth, where it joined its fellow Pauillac chateaux Lafite-Rothschild and Latour; Margaux from its eponymous commune; and Haut-Brion, the only estate from Graves admitted to the rankings.

The problem with the 1855 Classification is that much has changed in 150 years. Several properties have improved so drastically that they deserve elevation to the ranking above. Others have deteriorated and ought to be demoted or even eliminated. Some properties have radically altered in terms of vineyard and acreage ownership. Perhaps someday — since the estates of the other regions of Bordeaux have their own, more recent classifications — the Left Bank will re-evaluate the 1855 Classification, though one imagines that the owners of the chateaux that would be demoted are happy with things just as they are.

Of the wines I brought back from New Orleans, Gruaud Larose and Cos d’Estournel are Second Growths and Lynch-Bages is Fifth, though it has long deserved to be higher on the list.

Now 1979 was not a terrific year in Bordeaux. In The New Great Vintage Wine Book (Alfred A. Knopf, 1991), the English auctioneer and wine authority Michael Broadbent gives 1979 two out of five stars and comments that when the wines were released, they were “impressively deep-coloured and uncompromisingly tannic.” The majority of the wines were not keepers, though; as he says: “For many, further ageing will just leave a lean, barren, tannic shell of a wine.”

The American wine guru Robert M. Parker Jr. disagrees, somewhat. In the fourth edition of his Bordeaux: A Consumer’s Guide to the World’s Finest Wines (Simon & Schuster, 2003), Parker calls 1979 “the forgotten vintage in Bordeaux” and says that “the 1979 vintage will prove superior [to the widely praised '78] — at least in terms of aging potential.” He does go on to assert, in his trademark adjectivally-obsessed fashion, that many ’79s “remain relatively skinny, malnourished, lean, compact wines.” Well, O.K.

So here are my notes, from feb. 1984:

Lynch-Bages: “Beautiful wine, still purple with faintly lighter rim; soft tannin and fruit, exceptional balance, great elegance, a little short on the finish. Probably will not improve further.” (How the hell did I know?)

Cos d’Estournal: “Will improve for 3-5 years, still tannic with some wood, fruity, berries and black currants on the nose and in the mouth, well-balanced, medium finish. Excellent.”

Gruaud Larose: “Years to go, maybe ten. Defines the phrase ‘deep purple.’ Woody and tannic, surprising fruit; complex, deep. dry and tannic, lots of wood, many levels of fruit hiding there. One of the best wines I’ve ever tasted.”

To reveal how diverse and various our wine experiences were in those days — it wasn’t all Bordeaux classified growths, I promise — we also drank these wines in February 1984: A jug of August Sebastiani Country Chardonnay 1982 ($5.95); a jug of Almaden Zinfandel 1980 ($5.75); a Jaboulet-Vercherre Chassy Côtes-du-Rhône 1981 ($4.19); a terrific Domaine de la Tour d’Elyssas Coteaux du Tricastin 1981 (100% syrah; $4.99); and an excellent Acacia Chardonnay 1982, Napa Valley ($12.99).

Remember, this chronicle of 100 wines is not about the best wines I have tasted since 1983; it’s about the wines I learned the most from, the wines that contributed to my education, knowledge and experience. Theoretically, some of them could be bad wines.

So, in terms of this chronicle, we’re at the end of 1983, the year during which my first wife and I decided that, even though we lived in a dry county in Mississippi, not far south of Memphis, we would try two different wines every week. That’s when I started keeping a wine notebook and soaking labels off bottles to keep a record.

By this time, I had filled my first, small notebook and had moved on to a larger, three-ring binder that gave me more room to write and preserve labels. It wouldn’t be long before the label-keeping became an onerous task because I was tasting too many wines to soak or steam the labels off. And a gratifying thing happened. Friends knew that I was obsessed with learning about wine, and they began giving me interesting bottles as presents for birthday and Christmas, bottles that, when possible, I shared with them.

Let’s look, then, at Christmas Dinner 1983.

With the appetizer — sauteed mushrooms stuffed with chutney and pistachios — we drank the Freixenet Brut Nature 1975, an attractive, crisp, dry fruity CAVA that cost all of $8.99. With the sherried pea soup, naturally we drank glasses of sherry, in this case the Gonzalez Byass Tio Pepe, $8.29. With the roast goose, we had the first Bordeaux Classified Growth I had ever purchased, the Chateau Pichon-Longueville 1980, from Pauillac, a wine we enjoyed but didn’t love. Price? Get this. $12.95.

The wine that knocked me out on Christmas Day 1983, however, and the subject of this post, was the Mount Veeder Winery Late Harvest Zinfandel 1980, Mount Veeder-Napa County. Whoa, at 15.6 percent alcohol, this was “heady and powerful stuff,” as my notes say. We probably drank this with a chocolate dessert, but I neglected to write down what the dessert was. My notes continue: “Beautiful deep purple; tannic, fruity, slightly sweet nose; same taste but deep and complex, sweetness more like very ripe fruitiness, hints of chocolate and vegetal undertones. Should last years.” This was the first late-harvest zinfandel I had tasted, and it made a forceful impression. Twenty-five years later, I remember its assertive, dark flavors, its velvety, viscous texture and port-like character. The price was $9.99 for a half-bottle.

I think one change that occurred over this first year of devotion to wine is that our tastes were getting more sophisticated. On December 22, we went with friends to a restaurant in Memphis called the Bradford House, a sadly short-lived French restaurant that was one of of favorite places in the early 1980s. I took three wines: the Antinori Galestro 1981, imported by Julius Wile (pleasant but not distinctive, $7.99); the superb Silverado Sauvignon Blanc 1982 ($8.99); and the hearty and robust Saint Joseph 1975 from Alexandre Rochette, imported by Kobrand (an amazing $4.95).

This wine, consumed the night of Nov. 19, 1983, will be the last that I mention from my first wine notebook. You’ll notice that the Sebastiani “Tailfeathers” “Très Rouge” Pinot Noir 1976, Northern California — how many nicknames does a wine need? — is number 89 from my initial year of keeping notes and labels; the wines in the (conveniently enumerated) notebook go to 100.

At seven years of age, this was an astonishingly youthful and vigorous pinot noir and certainly the best pinot noir I had tasted until then. I bought it for $7.99 and took it to dinner with my first wife and another couple at a splendid (but alas short-lived) French restaurant in Memphis called Bradford House. The wine was terrific with duck a l’orange, a dish seldom seen today. My notes say that the wine was “dark,” “fragrant and fruity,” “tannic,” “rich and complex.” The terms aren’t exactly rich and complex, but they do conjure for me the occasion and a sense of what the wine was like.

The wines we tried between #8 in the chronicle of 100 wines — Chateau d’Agassac 1975, from Sept. 17 and 18 — and the Sebastiani Pinot Noir 1976 were these:

*De Luze Classique Red Bordeaux 1979. $4.99.
*August Sebastiani Country Pinot Noir. A non-vintage jug wine, $5.85.
*De Luze Classique White Bordeaux 1981. $4.99.
*Charlemagne La Crevette 1981, Entre-Deux-Mers. $2.98 and pretty damned good, in fact much better than the generic De Luze “Classique.”
*Domaines F. Ravel Cabernet Sauvignon 1981, Vin de Pays des Maures. $2.99.
*Concha y Toro Cabernet Sauvignon 1976, Maipo, Chile. $3.99.
*Domaines F. Ravel Semillon “Blanc de Blancs” 1981, Vin de Pays des Maures. $2.99. This wine and its cabernet sauvignon stablemate were wonderful values back in the early to mid 1980s. We drank gallons.
*Iron Horse Zinfandel 1981, Alexander Valley, Sonoma County. $8.79.
*Parducci Chenin Blanc 1982, Mendocino County. $5.69.
*Hawk Crest Cabernet Sauvignon 1980, North Coast. $6.49.
*Stag’s Leap Wine Cellars Gamay Beaujolais 1981, Napa Valley. $6.99. When was the last time Warren Winiarski made wine from gamay grapes?
*Louis M. Martini Cabernet Sauvignon 1978, California. $4.99.
*Lous Latour Mâcon-Lugny Les Genièvres 1981. $6.96. (“Definitely worth the price.”)
*La Cour Pavillon Bordeaux Blanc 1981. $9.90 at a restaurant.
*Dourthe Vineaux Rouge Red French Wine. A non-vintage “zip code” wine. $4.79 for a 1.5 liter jug. (“Weak body, muddy flavor.”)
*Tokay d’Alsace 1981. $NA. The couple we had dinner with at Bradford House had been in Alsace and brought back this pleasant, light, delicate wine.

Well, I haven’t written a Chronicle entry since August 23, and the reason is that I lost the notebook! But I finally found it, and guess where? In the last place that I looked, and of course had no real intention of looking there!

So, on September 17 and 18, 1983, we drank a bottle of Chateau d’Agassac 1975, a red wine from the Haut-Medoc, a region on the Left Bank of Bordeaux that is considered higher than the plain Medoc classification but lower than the individually named communes, such as St.-Estephe and Pauillac. I love this old-fashioned, picturesque label; the castle is genuine, dating from the 13th century and one of the oldest buildings in Medoc. The designation “Grand Bourgeois Exceptionnel” no longer exists, and, in fact, the entire Cru Bourgeois classification has recently been legally called into question, leaving many small chateaux in limbo.

In 1983, though, we enjoyed the hell out of this wine. It took a few minutes to open but then displayed lovely generosity and expansive merlot and cabernet sauvignon flavors, but with plenty of tannin (that distinctive walnut shell element) for support and structure. Notice, if you can read these notes, that I thought the price — $12.69 — high for a Cru Bourgeois wine. Boy, have things changed in 25 years!

Other wines we tried between the last entry in this notebook and the present wine:

*Guenoc Cabernet Sauvignon 1980, Lake County 70%, Napa County 30%. $7.45.
*Friexenet Cordon Negro. $4.99.
*Parducci Petite Sirah 1979, Mendocino County. $5.89.
*Fetzer Sundial Chardonnay 1982, Mendocino. $6.85.
*Ridge Zinfandel 1978, Paso Robles. (with 5 percent petite sirah) This had, remarkably for the era, 14.6 percent alcohol. It was a fascinating wine but marred, to my fledgling palate, by “harshness in the finish.” $10.69
*The Monterey Vineyard Classic California Red, Central Coast Counties. $5.99.
*Chateau Coufran 1979, Haut-Medoc. $8.49.
*Paul Masson French Colombard 1982, California. $4.99. Hey, we drank everything, given the chance. And, you know, we drank gallons of this wine; it was pretty good, or at least usually fresh, clean and crisp.

Lord have mercy, I haven’t done one of The Chronicle wines since May 10. I’m sorry, and I assure you that it hasn’t been for not wanting to, it’s just that MY CAMERA SUCKS AT CLOSE-UP SHOTS, and I’m embarrassed to display the results of my efforts. It does fine (sort of) with food images, but trying to capture a wine label with sharp, crisp detail seems to be beyond its (and my) capabilities. The instrument in question is a Canon PowerShot S410; I think that most people nowadays have better cameras on their cell phones.

Anyway, photographically-challenged or not, here goes the seventh in this series on posts devoted to the wines from which I learned the most, going back to when I was a neophyte trying to learn about wine and how to make notes. We’re still in my first notebook, which encompassed the wines of 1983.

The date is August 8. The wine is the Joh. Jos. Prum Wehlener Sonnenuhr Spatlese Riesling 1981, Mosel-Saar-Ruwer. We — my first wife and I –had driven to New Orleans to visit our friend Bill Gebauer, with whom I taught English at Memphis State University from 1969 to 1974, and he gave me this wine, which he bought at Martin’s Wine Cellars. We brought the wine back to Senatobia, Miss., south of Memphis, where we were teaching, and drank it with chicken curry. Of course such a wine, with its German locutions, required a flurry of reference book checking: “Wehlener” the village; “Sonnenuhr” the vineyard; riesling the grape, naturally; “Spatlese” the second degree of ripeness of grapes in German high quality wines.

At the time, my vocabulary felt rather inadequate to describe the wine. It was certainly sweet, but very well-balanced, very lively, “with a full, round taste,” “the sweetness disguised as a kind of exceptional suave smoothness,” says my notes, “not cloying or heavy in the least.”

The price was about $12.50.

Other wines we drank from the middle of July to the first week of August that year, in our quest for the most varied wine experiences:

*Heitz Cellars Gewurztraminer 1979, California. $5.58.
*Clos du Bois Merlot 1979, Napa Valley. $9.99. (I thought the price was too high.)
*Bolla Bardolino 1980. $4.85. (“Chilled a little, it improved immensely.”)
*Weingut E. Schmitz Urziger Wurzgarten Riesling Kabinett 1978, Mosel-Saar-Ruwer. $6.85.
*Louis Jadot Cote de Nuits-Villages 1974. $11.65. (A disappointment.)
*Leonard Kreusch Bernkasteler Kurfurstlay Riesling (Vintage Unknown). Mosel-Saar-Ruwer. (This thoroughly undistinguished wine was from the list of Masson’s Restaurant in New Orleans. The price there was $9.50)
*Bandiera Chardonnay 1982, Mendocino. $6.49.
*Sebastiani Cabernet Sauvignon 1978, North Coast. $5.99. (A really good cabernet. We drank it with boiled brisket, carrots and onions.)
*Henri de Villamont Pouilly-Fuisse 1982. Price unknown. (“Didn’t deliver much.”)
*Derwaltung der Staatweinguter Steinberger Kabinett Riesling 1979, Rheingau. $9.49.
*Castello di Gabbiano Chianti Classico Riserva 1979. $2.99!!!!!
*Bandiera Cabernet Sauvignon 1980, Sonoma County. $5.59.

Now we’re talking! Our first great red wine from Bordeaux!

Don’t laugh. The year — 1974 — vies with ‘72 and ‘77 as being the worst of the decade. Robert M. Parker Jr., never one to mince words, writes, in the last edition (the fourth) of his book about the wines of Bordeaux: “Should readers still have stocks of the 1974s, my sincere condolences. He goes on, in his triadic manner: ” … most 1974s remain hard, tannic, hollow wines lacking ripeness, flesh and character.”

Well, what did we know? My note, from July 17, 1983, says that Chateau Le Gay 1974, Pomerol — the blend is typically half cabernet franc-half merlot — was “big, round, tannic and mouth-filling, and yet soft and supple. Absolutely wonderful wine.” We drank the bottle with Sunday dinner, but, uncharacteristically, I didn’t record what the meal was.

Old School wine writers and critics delight, somewhat ruefully, in tales of the dour Robin sisters, who owned the small property for decades and didn’t make much distinction between farm fowl, livestock and aging barrels, as the chai shared room with ducks, chickens and the stray goat. Very rustic and homespun. The wine was always described with such adjectives as “massive,” “unyielding” and “truculent” and the occasional concession of “classically proportioned for longevity.” As Michael Broadbent says of the 1970 version of Le Gay in The Great Vintage Wine Book, the first edition of 1982, “Not so much attractive as impressive: very deep, tough.” The estate was sold in 2003 to Catherine Péré-Vergé, who hired — who else? — Michel Rolland as consultant. Soon Le Gay will smell and taste like all the other “modern” Pomerols.

Were we wrong to be so impressed with this wine? I don’t think so. Looking at the page that holds my notes and this label, I clearly remember Le Gay 1974, against all probability, as being the best red wine I had tasted up until July 17, 1983. What struck me so notably was the combination of the brute power of dusty tannins and minerals with the irresistible suppleness and mellowness of the texture and flavors. The wine has probably been dead in the water for years, and, yes, it was assuredly a minor wine to begin with, but it certainly taught me something about the character of merlot and cabernet franc grapes and a valuable lesson about not judging a wine by the label and the year.

And I love the price: $10.99!

Here are the other wines we tried between the last entry of This Chronicle and the present post:

Chateau Larose-Tritaudon 1978, Haut-Medoc. $9.98.
Zaca Mesa Cabernet Sauvignon 1978, Santa Ynez Valley. $7.15.
Teruzzi & Puthod Vernaccia de San Gimignano 1979. $3.99.
Folonari Bardolino non-vintage? $2.99.
Fetzer Cabernet Sauvignon 1978, Mendocino. $8.99.
Louis Jadot Beaujolais-Villages Jadot 1982. $5.99.
Mirassou Petite Sirah 1978, Monterey. $5.55.
Concannon Chenin Blanc “Noble Vinyeards-Kerman” 1981, California. $5.49.
Liberty School Cabernet Sauvignon 1979, Napa Valley. $8.29.
Quady Vintage Port 1977, Amador County. $10.53.
Santa Sofia Soave Classico Superiore 1979. $5.99.
Maitre d’Estournal 1978, Bordeaux. $6.99.

Reading about gewurztraminer wines doesn’t prepare you for their utter freshness and exuberance, their titillating rose petal-lychee-lime-grapefruit character, the scintillating, crystalline acid, the startling bitterness of the finish. At least I wasn’t really prepared for those qualities, all of which I had dutifully read about, when I tried my first example, this Clos du Bois Early Harvest Gewurztraminer 1979, from Sonoma County’s Alexander Valley. Of course what I had mainly been reading about were the classic models from Alsace, but I couldn’t find any of those.

We drank this on May 24 and 25, 1983, so the wine was already three-and-a-half years old, but it was completely fresh and vigorous, “fragrant, flowery, a little spicy, refreshing” (quoting from these 25-year-old notes). It went down easily with lunch: grilled sausages, tomato aspic, deviled eggs and cold broccoli with homemade mayonnaise. Notice the price: $7.84.

A few weeks later, around June 17-19, we tried another gewurztraminer with the first part of Father’s Day dinner, the Mirassou Harvest Reserve Gewurztraminer 1981, Monterey County. “Selected for a Limited Bottling” runs the legend on the white banner at the top of the label. This was ripe and robust, full-bodied and full-flavored, “well-balanced with a good finish … but not as spicy as the Clos du Bois,” which seemed, on the other hand, more delicate and fine-boned. Some of this wine accompanied a sherry-pea soup followed by filet of flounder with hollandaise sauce. Note the price: $6.89.

Other wines we tried between the last entry in this chronicle (the Grgich Hills Johannisberg Riesling 1979, Napa Valley) and the Mirassou Harvest Reserve Gewurztraminer 1981:

Cuvee Saint Andre Coteaux du Tricastin 1979 ($4.59)
Folonari Valpolicella NV(?) ($3.50)
Chateau La Cardonne 1978, Medoc (7.95)
Chateau Guiraud-Cheval Blanc 1978, Cotes de Bourg ($5.37)
J. Pedroncelli Chenin Blanc 1981, Sonoma County ($5.49)
Nicolas Croze-Hermitage 1977 ($4.58)
Domaine des Sauvignons 1981, Cotes de Blaye ($4.49)
Chateau Malijay Cotes du Rhones 1979 ($4.14)
J. Pedroncelli Gewurztraminer 1981, Sonoma County ($5.99)

We continue the chronicle of 100 wines that I learned the most from with an entry in my first wine notebook from May 16 & 17, 1983. The wine was the Grgich Hills Johannisberg Riesling 1979, Napa Valley.

Born in Croatia, Mike Grgich immigrated to the United States in 1958. He worked at the old Souverain winery, at Christian Brothers, Beaulieu Vineyard and Robert Mondavi. At Chateau Montelena, he was the maker of the Chardonnay 1973 that beat the French in the well-known and replicated Paris Tasting of 1976. Grgich Hills was founded in 1977 as a partnership between Grgich and Austin Hills, whose family sold the San Francisco-based Hills Bros. Coffee company in 1976.

Until this moment in May 1983, the Grgich Hills Johannisberg Riesling 1979 was “the best white I’ve ever drunk.” As far as I can recall, it was also my first riesling. “Excellent,” say my notes. “Beautiful golden color, full bodied. Well-balanced between the just off-dryness & the acidity.” “Balance” was a word that showed up with increasing regularity in my fledgling notes on the wines we tried in 1983. I don’t know if this occurrence was a reflection of my reading or an indication of the quality in wine that would become most important to me as the years went by, but the concept was certainly there in the beginning.

Note the price: $9.69.

If you look back at the “100 Wines: A Chronicle (2)” post from two weeks ago, you’ll notice that the wine was the Parducci Petite Sirah 1977, Mendocino County, and that the dates of its consumption were Feb. 12-14, 1983. Here’s a roster of the wines we tried between that date and May 16, with the price if recorded:

Clos du Bois “Cornell Release” Pinot Noir 1978, Alexander Valley.
Beaulieu Vineyard Beau Tour Cabernet Sauvignon 1979, Napa Valley.
Mirassou Zinfandel 1978, Monterey County.
Robert Mondavi Red 1980, California. ($4.99 for a 1.5-liter jug.)
Louis Jadot Beaujolais-Villages 1981. ($6.19)
Sterling Vineyards Zinfandel 1977, Napa Valley. ($7.99. This was really good; the last zinfandel that Sterling produced.)
Robert Mondavi Zinfandel 1979, Napa Valley. ($7.50)
Sandeman Late Bottled Vintage Port 1974. ($8.99)
Freixenet Cordon Negro CAVA.
Concannon Petite Sirah 1978, California. ($6.59)
August Sebastiani Country Zinfandel (non-vintage), “A Dry California Table Wine.” ($5.83 for a 1.5-liter jug.)
Croft “Distinction” Finest Tawny Porto. ($8.86)
Chanson “St. Vincent” Macon-Villages 1976. ($8.99, past its best)
Chateau Garriga Entre-Deux-Mer 1978. ($5.08, past its freshness)

See, we were trying to learn, though sometimes we just wanted a wine that went down easily.