Whenever I Want To Go To Heaven, I Visit My Three Favorite Saints
It’s a question every wine professional asks early on in their career.
If I make wine a job, will I lose my love of it?
I asked myself that in 2021 when I was considering getting into the wine market, looking at what it really took to earn a measure of expertise. Prior to that I’d discovered wine was one of my great pleasures in life, much to my surprise as a devoted whiskey drinker.
I’d bumbled into the Bordeaux section of Total Wine, simply because I thought Bordeaux sounded classy, and everyone knew the French made good wines. My bumbling paid off because I returned with a $50 bottle of Chateau Fonplegade 2015. It hooked me on Right Bank Bordeaux. The more of it I drank, the more pleasurable it became.
So losing my love of wine was a real fear.
If I turn this into study, into work, will what was once pleasurable become boring? Or could it become even more pleasurable?
It IS a risk, because once you start down a path of serious study, there’s no going back. But I enjoy study, I enjoy work, and I loved wine, so I decided to take the risk. I had the experience most wine professionals end up having.
Getting into the industry and studying, tasting, reading, learning, and becoming obsessed with grape juice makes wine more pleasurable than we could ever imagine. It heightens your senses, it introduces you to wines you never knew existed, it brings you into contact with nutjobs like yourself who also speak in strange tongues.
What you discover is EARNED pleasure is the best kind of pleasure.
I started off with WSET Level 1 in 2022, then immediately jumped into Level 2. In November of 2022 I did the Court of Master Sommelier Intro Event, and then a month later, their Deductive Tasting Method event. I’d never blind tasted wine or been part of tasting group, I just showed up, sat down, and did my best.
It was magical. So magical I did WSET 3, then passed the Certified Sommelier Exam. And because I can’t get enough, it’s time to study for the SKA, then the Advanced Sommelier.
What you discover as you start studying are wines and regions you’ve never heard of, but suddenly must try. Barolo. Barbaresco. Brunello di Montalcino. Rioja. Priorat. Mount Etna in Sicily. Barossa Valley in Australia. Cote Rotie in Northern Rhone. Chateauneuf de Pape (CDP) in Southern Rhone. Willamette Valley in Oregon. Howell Mountain in Napa.
And, of course, Bordeaux.
Bordeaux got me into wine, but no matter how far I stray from it- and I stray often- I always come back. To me there is something indescribably magical in the wines of Bordeaux not quite present in wines from other regions. Oh yes, I’ve had semi religious experiences from the Damilano Cannubi 2018 Barolo, the Arbossar 2022 Priorat grown on a North facing slope, the Franchetti “Contrada G” Terre Siciliano Red Wine (grown at too high an altitude to qualify for DOC labeling), the 2000 Los Patos Baga from Portugal, the 2017 Tannbark Hill from Togni and so on.
All of these wines won my heart in the moment, but the love was temporary. Whenever I want a true religious experience, I dutifully return to Bordeaux and visit one of my three favorite Saints:
Saint Emilion.
Saint Estephe.
Saint Julien.
The wines of Saint Emilion captivated me from the first moment I tried one. At the time, I didn’t know they were mostly Merlot with some Cab Franc and occasionally a bit of Cabernet Sauvignon for structure. Hell, if I’d known they were Merlot, I might have stayed away- like every other Sideways fan, I wasn’t drinking any fucking Merlot. Thank God I didn’t know.
It’s not just the fruit characteristics of St. Emilion or the mouthfeel that captivates me. They’re all the same in every taste and spit review you care to read- red plum, black plum, cherries, Dutch Baking Cocoa, espresso, earth, mineral, some vanilla from oak, etc. Velvety, silky, opulent at times, hedonistic, smooth, rounded- you quickly run out of adjectives.
As you go through the bottle, there is something about the way the varietals in the “assemblage” (blend) come together that creeps into your mind and takes you places. I vividly remember the first time I was halfway through a bottle of Chateau Fonplegade 2016- a Grand Cru en Classe- and found myself thinking I was gently floating in a pond full of blackberries with warm sunshine on my face.
Or the time a buddy and I opened a bottle of 2019 Chateau Monbosquet and both exclaimed at the same time, “Dutch Baking Cocoa,” then two glasses later, “Espresso with cherries!” It was spontaneous, surreal, and very cool.
The first- and second- time I drank a bottle of Larciss Ducasse 2016, I literally felt like I was standing by a bright red waterfall of cherries. That was the image that flashed into my mind- standing next to a Snolquamie Falls of luxurious red cherries, so loud I could hear the cherries falling from above. The waterfall lasted as long as the wine did, and got louder and more intense with every sip. Then it shut off, leaving a memory that will stay with me forever.
I still have two bottles here in 2025- I wonder what the experience will be when I drink them now? Religious, no doubt.
Perhaps it would be considered heresy in some circles, but the wines of Saint Emilion cast a spell on me. And from a purely financial point of view, I think they deliver the best value by far- hell, last week I had a bottle of Chateau Quinalt l’Enclos 2018 that was a gentle river of cocoa, black plum, and red and black cherry I paid $51 for. $51 for a religious experience…now THAT is value.
I’d be remiss in my Sommelier duties if I didn’t give you some Saint Emilion recommendations, and you don’t have to drive to weird wine shops (like I like to do) to get them. Most you can get at Total Wine or BevMo or a local wine store.
Chateau Fonplegade,
Chateau Fleur de Cardinale
Chateau Pavie MacQuin
Chateau Larciss Ducasse
Chateau Barde-Haut
Château La Dominique
Chateau Troplong Mondot
Chateau Quinalt l’Enclos
Chateau Beausejour Duffau
Chateau Canon La Gaffeliere
In general, avoid the 2017 and 2021 vintages, although good wines can be found. It’s hard to go wrong with 15, 16, 18, 19, 20, and 2022, currently being hailed as the greatest vintage in the history of vintages, but we shall see.
You can drink St. Emilion young, you can drink it old, you can drink it when you want. Just drink it in a wide bowl Bordeaux glass at 55 to 60 degrees.
Let us move Westward to the Left Bank and Cabernet Sauvignon heavy wines. Two more Saints await us, and although neither has a Classified First Growth, they more than make up for it.
The star of Saint Estephe, the northernmost of the Haut-Medoc classified appellations is, of course, Cos d’Etournel, known as Cos. I have not had Cos d’Etournel, but I have heard the legends, heard it is the best wine of St. Estephe, and that grabs my interest.
That’s because I’ve had one glass of Calon Segur 2015 at Le Cirque in Las Vegas in February of 2022, and that might have been the single best glass of wine I ever had. I haven’t had a bottle, just a glass, and my God was it saintly. Sure, it had all the black fruits and graphite and earth and blah blah blah you get from every taste and spit Left Bank Bordeaux review, and the heart on the label was cool.
But the wine in the glass?
It was ALIVE.
It VIBRATED.
It gave me ENERGY.
It GLOWED when I sipped it.
It usually takes a whole bottle to move me, and believe me, I will be drinking a whole bottle of Chateau Calon Segur Great Vintage soon. But that one, single glass, moved me, took me out of the restaurant, and transported me to another place for as long as there was wine in the glass. It was me and Saint Estephe hanging out together, an unforgettable experience.
I don’t have as many Saint Estephe recommendations for you as I do Saint Emilion, but the quality makes up for the lack of quantity.
Chateau Tronquoy is a great entry point at $50, and has some of the rusticity St. Estephe is known for. Calon Segur is still under $200, Chateau Montrose is around $220, and Cos D’Estournel can go from $200 to $500 depending on the vintage.
Me? I’d hit Calon Segur to start with, based on my one glass experience.
And now we go south to St. Julien, with wines of purity, smoothness, and elegance that haunt you.
Chateau Gloria was my first Saint Julien, and while it is no religious experience, it is a well priced introduction. I’d say it’s like going to chapel before you go to church. St. Julien has no first growths, but I believe 80% or so of the Chateaus are classified, and if you want to go big, the Super Seconds Leoville Las Casas, Ducru Beaucaillou, and Leoville Barton are indescribably good.
However, my recommendation is to start with two value stunners- Clos du Marquis, and Branaire Ducru. Clos du Marquis caught me by surprise one night, because the bottle I had was a 2017, not a great vintage. I’d been to a wine event earlier that evening that was a disaster- all the bad wines you could drink from Sonoma, and I love Sonoma, hence my disappointment. I came home to drink a very good Barolo- the 2015 Bava Scarrone- but it went down fast, and I wanted more wine. So I pulled out the Clos du Marquis 2017, figuring it would be an affable Bordeaux after a Barolo.
My God. From the first sip, I knew I’d made a grave mistake in not setting aside an evening for this wine. The high acid Barolo tuned me up, and every sip was like floating on a gentle blackberry river with vanilla currents. I got four exquisite glasses out of it before I fell asleep at 3:30 am, much to my chagrin. I’d gotten up early that day, else I could have gone to 6 am and finished the Clos du Marquis. I still regret that I didn’t, but now I simply must try one from a better vintage.
We shall save the best for last- Chateau Branaire Ducru, a mere 4th Growth that somehow takes heaven and puts it in a bottle. The only reason I got a bottle of the 2016 in the first place was because it had St. Julien on it and was less than $100.
I drank it in Marana, Arizona on a spring night, sitting out under the stars with the temperature at 55 degrees. The wine came together in a way I can only describe as being part of those stars. Every sip made me feel all was right in the world. St. Julien Himself descended from heaven, sat down beside me, and we listened to the Scorpions Lady Starlight from Animal Magnetism together.
He let me drink all the wine, a true act of altruism. But then again, that’s what my three favorite Saints do. They give so much I can’t help but coming back again and again. And telling you to visit them too, of course.