Well, not really. I mean, it’s a nice looking goat, but that’s not what I’m thinking about. I stole this picture off the website of Costadilá. They happen to make an incredible Prosecco that is so alive and vibrant that sooner than you can say ‘Hey, that’s a good looking goat’ the bottle will be empty. Hell, you might not even be able to get past ‘hey’ if your drinking partner enjoys it as much as my wife did.
Visual memory can account for a lot. Truthfully, the main reason I even gave thought to picking a bottle of this up (well, other than the fact that it’s one of the few Italian wines imported by LDM that make it to my windswept town in the middle of the west) is that that gentlemanly blogger extraordinaire dobianchi wrote a post about it a little bit ago. He also had a picture of it (which I hope he won’t mind me stealing) that etched itself in my brain along with something like ‘this is fucking good’ (though probably worded a bit more adult-like).
It’s true, this is what it looks like. It’s beautifully simple. So, when I saw it arrive at my favorite local wine shop, something in the back of my brain said ‘This is fucking good’ (or something to that effect) and I knew I just had to have it. Like I said, that and the fact that Dressner/McKenna imports it was enough for me.
Thankfully, the wine didn’t taste of goat. Though it did take me a bit to wrap my head around it, which I think is a good thing. I didn’t just take a sip, sit back and say ‘I proclaim this bottle to be awesome’. It took me a glass or two to really note how lovely it was; how special indeed it was. I think the second thing you notice after the beautifully minimal bottle design is the fact that there is a lot of sediment/lees at the bottom. Very much unfined and unfiltered. It has a wonderfully yeasty/lees-y taste that goes along with the fresh, lemon and green apple-ness that initially was quite bitter, but dissipated after I agitated the bottle to move the sediment around a bit. I actually quite preferred the wine after it had been shaken a touch. It lost the bitterness and gained some complexity from the yeast.
It’s the kind of wine that makes you happy to be drinking it. It’s not a direct route to happiness, but because you have to follow it there it heightens the sensation; the means justify the end. It’s so full of life that you just feel alive drinking it, especially if you can share it with someone who happens to feel the same way. I can only hope that the goat in the picture above feels as happy hanging out on the Trevisian fields.