1992 Dow’s Colheita Port

[Will W.]

It is said that air travel was once glamorous; films set in the 1960s would certainly suggest as much. They show passengers ensconced in wide seats, barely within spitting distance of fellow passengers to the front and back. And everybody appears well turned out, chatting amiably to their neighbours with crystal-tumblered highballs in the one hand and a cigarette in the other. The appearance of the air hostesses – there were no men serving drinks - gave the impression that many of the women would have made the cut to work in one of the then-ubiquitous Playboy Clubs. One imagines that passengers joined their aircraft in a fine state of mind insofar as security on the ground was non-existent by the standards of today.

Those days are gone; air travel is drudgery.

Your correspondent endures seventy or eighty flights annually; he pays no attention to the aircrew, beyond the exchange of superficial civilities, refrains from speaking to those in adjacent seats, forgets for the duration of flights that he enjoys the occasional cigar and he never orders a drink. In the event, his abstemiousness in the latter respect was recently challenged successfully during a flight to the end of the earth by a server who suggested, without prompting, a glass of port. With considerable scepticism, your correspondent asked what might be on offer; he expected, at best, an LBV. In the event, a 50ml bottle of Dow’s 1992 colheita was produced. Unfamiliar with this product and seized with boredom, he succumbed to the proffered temptation, in the awareness that his generally dodgy nose and palate were unlikely to do justice to the wine at 38,000 feet. Happily, the contents of this 2019 bottling transcended the aforementioned limitations.

The appearance of the wine was lovely in the glass: the colour was that of strong tea; and, as far as could be determined in the available light, the port had a clear rim. The nose was a touch modest, perhaps owing to the effects of flying upon the mucous membranes, though notes of wood and leather were clearly in evidence. Even before tasting the wine, one could not help but conclude that the port would have shown better upon the nose had your correspondent not already spent several hours in a pressurised tube. On the palate, the wine was really very nice: warm caramel was the prevailing sensation on entry, giving way to a powerful citrus zest, cinnamon and a touch of red cherry. One sensed as well a hint of cardamom. The medium-long finish was characterised by the aforementioned zest, giving way to a pleasing warmth within which light tannins revealed themselves. Of medium weight, the wine was exceedingly well balanced with a pronounced acidity which was most agreeable. Following the production of a handful of dark chocolates by the same kind flight attendant, several further glasses were called for; and, in imbibing the better part of the bottle, your correspondent found himself able to relate - for the first time that he could remember - to the golden era of air travel.

91 points – and presumably a point or two higher under more favourable tasting conditions.

[Andy Velebil]

Wonderful recount really enjoyed the read. And I would hate to fly that much, you’re a real trooper!