This week, in this week's feature of "Wine Stain of the Week," we uncork a tale that blends the worlds of fine wine and exquisite furniture, involving the esteemed ‘Lady of San Fran,” Lillian Chen. She shares her recent mishap involving is a rare chair and an even rarer bottle of Port.
1963 Quinta do Noval Nacional Port on a 18th-century Qing dynasty chair
The Wine
The centerpiece of this unfortunate incident is a bottle of 1963 Quinta do Noval Nacional Vintage Port, a legendary wine from a legendary year. The 1963 vintage is revered among Port lovers for its complexity, stunning balance, and the depth of its character. This particular bottle, sourced from one of the most celebrated producers in Portugal, has been described as tasting like "a symphony composed by the gods," with layers of dark berry fruit, rich chocolate, and a hint of spice, leading to a finish that lingers on the palate like the final note of a masterpiece.
The Chair: Qing for a Queen
The victim of this vinous tragedy is a rare 18th-century Qing dynasty chair, an exquisite piece of Lillian's furniture collection, known for its intricate carvings and historical significance. The chair, a fine example of Chinese craftsmanship, has survived centuries unscathed, only to meet its match in a moment of merriment and misfortune.
The Accident
As Lillian regaled her captive audience with tales of the wine's journey – from the sun-drenched slopes of Douro Valley to her climate-controlled cellar – disaster struck. In a moment of dramatic flair, her hand, perhaps too animated by the spirit of the tale or the spirits within, gestured wildly.
The bottle, as though yearning for freedom, leapt from her grasp and somersaulted through the air, a dark crimson geyser erupting as it met the ground. But the floor was spared; the bottle's contents found a more dramatic canvas – her Qing dynasty chair, a centerpiece and a silent witness to centuries, splattered in a hue reminiscent of battles fought long ago.
The Port Stain
“With aromas of blackberry bramble, tangled with the wisdom of aged leather books, whispers of tobacco and a hint of vanilla as if the beans had been plucked from Madagascar. Ripe, dark fruits embark on Marco Polo’s Oriental spice quest. The tannins providing just enough tension to make the story interesting, yet soften into a long, complex, and echoing auditorium applause. It lingered like a flirtatious dance between tongue splinters, fruit and age, a balancing act on the tightrope of acidity and sweetness.”
In the end, Lillian's wine-stained Qing dynasty chair stands not as a piece marred by misfortune but as a beacon of stories shared and memories made, a tangible reminder that the true essence of wine collecting lies in the experiences we gather, and sometimes, in the stains we leave behind.
