As I write this week’s column I’m jetting my way across the great Asian Euro continents, yet again reminded of the importance of memory, legacy and travel. Composing this article somewhere over South Asia while sampling several wines that have decent yet not exceptional attributes. My destination is Italy so in respect to the great peninsula nation that happens to make some of the world’s best wines, I selected two Italian wines, a light and charming Prosecco, then a rather outgoing but undistinguished Valpolicello Ripasso. All wines, like humans, behave differently at altitude. Some of us are relaxed and feel good as we jet across vast distances, while others suffer from the rigors of distance and altitude. The Prosecco is performing quite nice but the the Valpolicello is making me wish for a quick landing.
To be fair in over 45 years of flying and drinking wines at altitude, I’ve almost never had a great meal or wine on an airplane. In the good old days on a 707 flying between New York and Paris first class we has fresh caviar, foie gras and steak carved beside your seat, and sometimes it was really good but never excellent. These old memories of quite good food and wine while flying are sadly a thing of the past. But some delicious memories live on forever.
Best flight ever
The best wine I ever had on an airplane was by accident, a tragic yet ultimately beautiful occurrence. My father had just passed away and I was fortunate to have been there during his last days. I flew back to China a few days after the funeral. Dad was a great collector of wines and somehow like all things treasured in a family I thought his wine collection would stay in the family. But alas my sisters had different ideas and soon his collection, a reflection of a lifetime passion, was up for auction by Sotherbeys. What was I to say? I’d been half a lifetime away from home building my own life while my sisters took care of mom and dad. I rightfully had little say in the matter.
But one thing I could do was fly home and hand carry as many bottles of great wines as possible before they were auctioned. I bought a special bag to carry eight bottles of precious wine. This was pre-9/11 so wine could still be carried on board. The case cost me 200 US dollars but the wines I lovingly carried were priceless. Back then the flights to Asia from New York stopped in Anchorage Alaska for fuel. All was well until we took off from Anchorage.
After takeoff my finely trained nose soon discerned an aroma too beautiful for this situation and environment. Initially confused I soon gained equilibrium and sanity and realized one of my dad’s collectables was expressing its beauty. My first thought was horror and loss and then when sanity set in I realized I had but one course. Stewardess I yelled, please bring me the largest glass you have. This was essential as great wines have little patience for small glasses. I nervously scrambled to see what treasure had been lost.
I soon discovered the protagonist, a bottle of 1966 Chateau Latour that had popped its cork taking off from Anchorage Airport. The changing altitude presented a challenge the old cork could not meet. Faced with the unplanned and unenviable position of enjoying true liquid art in an inhospitable environment there was little I could do than enjoy this exceptional wine by myself high over the North Pacific. Not planned, not desired, the 1966 Chateau Latour performed like a true champion.
Over the following 11 hours I lovingly savored this epic wine. The immense dark fruit favors and remarkably youthful tannins coated my palate and increasingly seduced me into a drug-like nirvana of true epicurean pleasure. What had started as a tragic loss of family ear looms lost morphed into the most exquisite flight of my life.
More than once on that dark night crossing the great expanses of the Pacific Ocean, I lifted my somewhat stupid but amply large water glass in an honorary toast to my recently departed father. In a lesser way he bequeathed to me a legendary wine in an excellent vintage but in a much more profound, meaningful and lasting way he taught me how to love and appreciate wines.
Food and wine at altitude
I had tasted foie gras on numerous occasions in my youth but I first feel in love with foie gras on an airplane when I was eight years old. That my passion for foie gras was discovered at 35,000 feet shouldn’t be such a surprise. This exceedingly rich, creamy and savory food performs well at any altitude. That evening on my way to Paris I merely discovered what so many before me already knew, foie gras is one of god’s food. Altitude is often a enemy of delicate foods. The is also true with wine.
Wines that shine at altitude
Just like that magical piece of foie gras at on Air France four decades ago, or that unforgettable Chateau Latour 1996 enjoyed somewhere over the North Pacific, excellence of taste at altitude may be elusive but when experienced its unforgettable. Having consulted to airlines and experienced wine on countless flights, I’ve gradually come to the conclusion that certain varietals perform better at altitude. Forget about the great tannic red beauties that can perform so beautifully at sea level, while riding the jet streams in the compressed environment of modern aircraft, the best wines tend to be the expressive, overtly fruity wines.
Next time you’re wining and dining in the stratosphere choose a nice Napa Cabernet Sauvignon, top Chilean Carmenere, Argentinian Malbec, Barossa Shiraz or even Right Bank Bordeaux red in a hot vintage. Avoid tannic left ban Bordeaux reds and delicate and acidic whites. Champagne or other good sparkling wines usually perform well as do fortified wines like Sherry and Port. With a little bit of effort may well be awarded a gratifying and perhaps even memorable experience. Bon voyage!
