Vintage Veuve an incredible indulgence

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 09/12/2016 (3401 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

I’d never had this before.

Sure, I’d tasted plenty of Champagnes. And it’s certainly not because I can afford to buy them, because I can’t. It’s just that I’ve been fortunate to have been given the opportunity through my wine work — the incredible one-time-only Champagne tasting as an adjunct to the Winnipeg Wine Festival six or seven years ago springs to mind — or gifts from crazy-generous and loving friends, to taste one of the world’s most revered beverages from a variety of vintners over the years.

But, while I love Champagne, particularly Veuve Clicquot Brut (my cousin’s favourite is Pol Roger, and I like it, too, along with Moet & Chandon, Taittinger, and Mumm, of course — I’ve not tried Dom Perignon or Cristal, much as I’d like to, but they’re insanely expensive) I’d never had what arrived at my door, delivered by or from the Liquor Mart.

As a tangent, because I was intrigued by this, I called the downtown Liquor Mart to find out a bit more. They — and this service is only available from the downtown store — contract with a local delivery company, and the cost is actually quite reasonable, at least in my opinion. For the first “case” — this is Liquor Mart lingo, obviously — which means either one bottle or as many as you can fit in a bag — not a box — so about four bottles of wine, the delivery fee is $11. For any extra cases — again, that’s a bag with one or however many bottles in it and I only asked about wine, not beer or hard liquor call the store at 204-571-5105 if you want more particulars — it’s an additional $2. So if you have one case at $11, and two additional cases at $2 each, you’re looking at $15 plus tax. Make sense? I hope so.

Oh, and they only deliver Monday through Saturday — not Sunday — and only until 7 p.m. This could be an invaluable service if unexpected company arrives or if you’ve forgotten to pick up something you need before planned company arrives — in many instances, your time is more valuable than the amount of it that’s consumed by jumping in the car, heading to the store, shopping, and then driving back home.

Anyway, back to the Champagne.

My husband answered the phone, and a cheery gentleman said he had a delivery from the Liquor Mart for me, and asked if we’d be home for the next little while. My husband, who was perplexed, said we weren’t going anywhere.

When he told me what the caller had told him, I said, “Whaa…?”

I’d never heard of such a thing. But sure enough, a chap knocked on the door about 20 minutes later with a brown paper Liquor Mart bag, and said, “It’s from Kate.” And as he left, and I shut the door behind him, I stood there, completely puzzled.

“Which Kate?” I wondered. I have a few close friends with that name, but I couldn’t imagine any of them sending me Champagne. And not just any Champagne. But I’ll get to that in a second.

After a few minutes of contemplation, and no answers to my question, I said to my hubby, “I’m going to call the Liquor Mart to see who this is from. This is crazy!”

So I called. The fellow at the other end of the line said he had to check the paperwork, and said he remembered it wasn’t from in town, or Manitoba, for that matter, everything snapped into place.

“Kate — from Montreal!” I said.

“That’s right!” he answered, and I could hear him smile (which sounds ridiculous, but you know what I mean).

I should have known. I can’t believe I was so thick. Kate from Montreal — my almost-sister — has been gifting my husband, Ken, and me with Champagne — the Veuve Clicquot Brut, because she knows it’s my favourite — for our mega-special occasions, usually anniversaries, for years. And our 30th anniversary was in just a few days.

But this bottle wasn’t the label I was used to. Sure, it was Veuve and yes, it was Brut, but the packaging was slightly different. I initially wondered if the winery had change its classic orange look. But upon closer examination, I realized this was no ordinary Veuve Brut. This was 2004. A vintage Champagne.

It was about then I burst into tears. Kate’s always spoiled me and us rotten, but this was insane. I know my liquor store prices. A bottle of Veuve Brut is $71.49. But the vintage stuff is $97.49.

I sat down, still a bit in shock. But she’d done it. This was ours. And as we always had with her extravagant Veuve gifts over the years, we planned to drink it on our 30th.

Which we did. I’d carefully chilled the bottle, and was even more cautious when I opened it. I was rewarded for my efforts with a comforting little “poufft” when the cork released. (Everybody thinks it should pop, but the gentle puff of air is what you’re after. Trust me.)

I poured two glasses and took one to my hubby. I smelled it. Its aroma was even more delicate, more refined than the Veuve Brut. We toasted each other, and our 30 years of married life, and I took a sip.

Heaven.

It took me a few more sips to completely realize this was truly a step up from the regular Veuve, which I didn’t think was possible. The yeasty doughiness that I so

love in Champagne, and particularly Veuve, was there, but it was even more elegant. There was a creaminess that the regular Veuve didn’t have, at least not to the same degree. There was that expected tang of citrus, except it wasn’t tangy at all. It was just there. Present. Floating.

So how on earth would I describe it?

The realization came to me in a flash.

Lemon meringue pie.

It was incredible.

“I’m a genius,” I thought, totally confident in and very pleased by the uniqueness of my assessment.

At least I was, until Corral Centre Liquor Mart product ambassador Cindy Rousseau asked me how I’d liked the vintage Veuve — I’d told her about receiving it the week before.

“I have three words to describe it,” I said, pausing for dramatic effect. “Lemon. Meringue. Pie.”

“Oh, that’s a very common description of great Champagne,” she said, unintentionally bursting my bubble, but legitimately delighted I’d had such a perfect and memorable experience.

“Aarrgghh!” I said. “I thought I was so clever!”

We both laughed, with me leading the way. So much for my ‘unique’ interpretation.

But if you want to spoil someone you love this Christmas season, especially if they’re a bubbly fan, and especially if they like real Champagne, this vintage Veuve is incredible.

Oh, and Kate? Not that I’m in any rush for time to pass, but I’m already looking forward to Ken’s and my 35th anniversary.