In our hectic, information-rich, fast-paced lives, everything is about the now. The hot, newest, most amazing funky whatever - delivered at lightning speed. Because of this, it’s all too easy to become jaded, over-exposed, and consequently cynical as we look for the “what’s next?” moment.
But there’s a lot to be said for retro – retro fashion or simply retrospection, looking back and taking time to appreciate something rather than rushing through it and later on wondering what the heck happened.
Experts say that if you want to remember something, usually for exam purposes, you should make it as rich in detail as possible. Recall the smell, how it felt to the touch, how it made you feel at the time, what it sounded like, the colour...
That’s what L’Ormarins’ new Private Cuvée is like. It forces you to stop and take a beat. To slow down and appreciate what you’re opening. I’m as guilty as the next wine writer of being sceptical of a new premium offering but there were absolutely no claims made when the bottle of Cap Classique was delivered. I had no information to cloud my experience of this bubbly – other than the fact that it was – obviously! – from L’Ormarins which has a very fine track record of making a range of excellent sparkling wines.
There was a part of my lizard brain going “is this another case of the Emperor’s clothes?” My sarcastic little devil on the shoulder was querying whether what was in the bottle would live up to the packaging. That was before I even opened up the box… and what a box it is! Everything is beautiful from the exterior of the box to the interior. Top-notch quality all the way.
This packaging is going the extra mile. It’s a stunningly embellished smooth matte box with a copper ribbon tab to open the magnetic flap. Then the interior is revealed with its magnificent scalloped bottle lying inside, its neck supported by a cut-out.
And that was when I read the text – which, in gambling parlance, just upped the ante – because it added authenticity and sentiment into the mix. This packaging takes its cue from the late Anthonij Rupert. It states the following: “The discovery of the late Anthonij Rupert’s Cap Classique packaging notes and mock-ups was the departure point for realising his dream to produce the first-ever Cap Classique range on L’Ormarins Estate. An ode to his pioneering spirit, forged with dedication and produced according to the traditional method, from exceptional cool-climate terroir, L’Ormarins Private Cuvée Cap Classique is a vibrant and refined wine with timeless power to record and celebrate life’s most precious moments.”
The lining on the box interior is reminiscent of opening a venerable book – with old-fashioned flyleaf paper. The foil (also known as the coiffe, something I had to Google) is intricately detailed; a coppery bronze or rose gold colour which perfectly offsets the delicate salmon hue of the bubbly.
There’s a hint of what’s to come with the small metallic tab with its graphic AR embossing attached to the wire muselet. Stripping off the foil around the neck of the bottle reveals a deeply imprinted cap. Not the standard, light, or thin aluminum offering, this cap is altogether more sturdy and solid, proudly bearing the L’Ormarins crest and coat of arms, copper on black. It certainly makes a statement!
Then there’s the bottle. Its shape is gently scalloped with voluptuous, sensuous rounded curves which feel amazing in the hand. By this point, I realised I’d taken 10 minutes just slowly admiring and appreciating the craftsmanship of the packaging. I had yet to pop the cork and try the wine. And that’s unusual because I’m normally more focused on what’s inside the bottle, what it tastes like rather than what the label states or the appearance of the wrapping.
It’s a wine that, like the packaging, engages all the senses –touch, taste, smell, sight, and sound. From the subtle sigh as I eased the cork out, to the tendrils of smoke that lazily wafted from the bottleneck, the sound as I poured it into the glass, the aromas as I nosed it, and the vitality and effervescence on the tongue as I tasted it… I don’t say this often, but it genuinely and truly is an impressive wine. So refined and gracious yet simultaneously vital and thrilling. The tangy acid succulence is to be expected, as is the rich, broad yeasty notes from the time spent undergoing secondary fermentation in the bottle – this is a 2014, after all. The length of flavour surprised me somewhat. It lingered and had me racking my brain for the French word for it: Caudalie. (And it’s derived from the word for tail – caudal – and describes the length of time the flavour remains perceptible in the mouth.)
But this is a triumph. It’s a wine that engages the mind as much as the senses – and that’s a really sexy thing. No Emperor's clothes!
