A year or two ago one of the most fashionable men in London asked me to assist him in ordering a dinner at Delmonico’s. When we came to ordering the wines, he exclaimed against the champagne. “What!” said he, “drink a champagne of 1880. Why, it is too absurd!” I told him it was that or nothing, for we were far behind them in England, drinking new champagnes and having no old ones.
The idea is prevalent that champagne will not keep in this climate. After a few years one will always order his supply from abroad yearly, keeping his champagne at his London wine merchant’s or at the vineyard. To evidence the improvement in champagne by age, I can only cite that the champagne of 1874 has sold in London at auction for $7 a bottle, and now in Paris and London you pay $8 a bottle for a ’74 wine at a restaurant, and $6 for an 1880 wine; at the vineyard itself $45 a dozen, and hard to obtain at this price. If you once drink one of these old champagnes you will never again drink a fresh wine. In England they now drink no Madeira; it is never served. At their dinners they pride themselves on giving 1874 champagne. If they can give this wine, with a Golden Sherry and a fine glass of Port, they are satisfied.
It will be well to remember that champagnes are now known to connoisseurs by their vintage. Wines of some vintages do not keep at all. In keeping champagnes, keep only, or order kept for you, the champagnes of the best vintages. Of course, there is much risk in keeping any champagne; but what all strive for, is to possess something that no one else has; that is not purchasable, I mean, in any quantity, and this now is 1874 champagne.
To properly frappé champagne, put in the pail small pieces of ice, then a layer of rock salt, alternating these layers until the tub is full. Put the bottle in the tub; be careful to keep the neck of the bottle free from the ice, for the quantity of wine in the neck of the bottle being small, it would be acted upon by the ice first. If possible, turn the bottle every five minutes. In twenty-five minutes from the time it is put in the tub, it should be in perfect condition, and should be served immediately. What I mean by perfect condition is, that when the wine is poured from the bottle, it should contain little flakes of ice; that is a real frappé.
It is often a mistake to frappé, for it takes both flavor and body from the wine, and none but a very rich, fruity wine should ever be frappéd. My theory is that for ordinary cooling of wine, it is not necessary to use salt, unless you are in a hurry. The salt intensifies the cold and makes it act more quickly. You get a speedier result. I should simply use above formula, omitting the salt. Champagne should not be left in a refrigerator for several hours before being served, as it takes away its freshness. In serving it, for one who likes it cold, the wine should be cooled sufficiently to form a bead on the outside of the glass into which it is poured. It is pretty, and the perfection of condition.
In regard to champagne of excellent years, we begin with 1857, as there were no first-rate vintages of this wine between 1846 and 1857. The great years were: 1834, 1846, 1857, 1858, 1861, 1862, 1865, 1868, 1870, 1872, and 1874, the last exceptionally fine and keeping well; 1878, 1880, and 1884, fine wines; 1885 is fair, but not to be classed with the 1884. The Romans noted the years of the celebrated growths of their wines, marked them on their wine vessels, when Rome was a Republic, with the Consul’s name, which indicated the vintage. A celebrated vintage was that of the year 632, when Opimius was Consul. It was in high esteem a century afterwards.
In clarets, we also make a mistake; we cling to them when by age they become too thin and watery. One fills up one’s wine cellar with claret, and then tenaciously holds it, until it frequently loses the fine characteristics of a first-class wine. The clarets of 1854 promised very great things, but were certainly a failure in Latour, and in some of the other wines of that year; 1857, 1858, 1881, some were good. The claret of 1865 was an extravagant wine, but developed a good deal of acidity, and is not to-day held in very high esteem, but I have tasted some perfect of that year. 1868 promised much, but has not turned out as good as was expected. 1869 sold at very low prices, but has become the best wine of very recent years. 1870 was a very big, full-bodied wine; it is now very good. Of 1871, some of them are excellent (as Haut Brion, Lafitte, Latour). The 1874’s were very good, Latour the best; 1875 was very good; 1877, quite good; 1878, very good; 1879, only moderate; 1880, light and delicate, quite good; 1881, big wines, very promising; 1884 promised well, and 1887 promised to be great wines. I do not think it is easy to be certain of Bordeaux wines until they have been in bottles some years. A wine which while in the wood may be excellent, may not ripen the right sort of way in bottles and prove disappointing. Decant all your clarets before serving them, even your vin ordinaire. If at a dinner you give both Burgundy and claret, give your finest claret with the roast, your Burgundy with the cheese. Stand up both wines the morning of the dinner, and in decanting, hold the decanter in your left hand, and let the wine first pour against the inside of the neck of the decanter, so as to break its fall. With Burgundy, the Clos Vougeots have run out. The insect has destroyed them. The Chambertins or Romanée Conti, when you give them to those who can appreciate fine wines, have a telling effect.
Table sherries should be decanted and put in the refrigerator one hour before dinner. Personally, as a table sherry I prefer to drink the new, light, delicate sherries, as they come from Spain, directly from the wood, before they are darkened by being kept in glass, and before all the water, that is always in them, has disappeared. This is the taste of the Spanish people themselves. They drink them from the wood.
There is no need of having a large cellar of wine in this country, for we Americans are such Arabs, that we are never contented to stay quietly at home and enjoy our country, and our own perfect climate. No sooner have we built a charming residence, including a wine cellar, than we must needs dash off to Europe, to see what the Prince of Wales is doing, so that literally a New Yorker does not live in his New York residence, at most, more than four or five months in the year. In the other seven or eight, his servants have ample time to leisurely drink up the wine in his cellar, bottle by bottle; therefore, I advise against laying in any large supply of wine. Your wine merchant will always supply you with all wines excepting old clarets; these you must have a stock of; and, as servants do not take to claret, you are comparatively safe in hoarding up a good lot of it. Your old champagnes you can order from London, i.e. a winter’s supply, every year, for as they say it will not keep in this climate, you must do so to get it of any age. When sherry becomes old and has been kept some time in glass, they then drink it in Spain as a liqueur.
If you cannot get hold of the best, the very best and finest old Madeira, give up that wine and take to sherry. I have seen sherry that could not be distinguished from Madeira by experts. Again, I have seen a superb sherry bring a hundred dollars a dozen. The most perfect sherry I ever drank was the “Forsyth sherry,” given to Vice-President Forsyth by the Queen of Spain, when he was the American Minister at her Court. I give during dinner a light, delicate, dry Montilla sherry. At dessert, with and after fruit, a fine Amontillado.