This bottle was never in the cellar. It was in the house. How it came to be in the house, I have no idea. What I do know is that it was resting upon the footwear cupboard in the vestibule for quite some time, where it would catch my eye occasionally and I would wonder what to do with it. I most certainly had no intention of drinking it until, after an indifferent bottle of 1987 Quinta da Roeda on 15 April 2020, I reckoned that the evening could not get any worse from a port-wine perspective. And so, the t-stopper was removed and one got to it.
The wine looked nice enough in the glass, being purple and entirely opaque; one was reminded of inexpensive cabernet taken from a cardboard box through a plastic spigot, that is, of something produced the day prior, albeit under agreeable hygienic conditions. The nose was remarkable insofar as there was one; a touch of red fruit was in evidence in much the same manner as such notes would be discernible from inexpensive still wine. The red fruits were more evident on the fore-palate, along with something akin to simple syrup, these phenomena giving way to the unmistakable flavour of Marlboro menthol cigarettes and, in turn, raw tannins. A lot of tannins. The finish was bereft of sophistication or depth, though the aguardiente was well integrated and pleasantly warming.
As I have rarely consumed basic ruby ports, at least willingly, I have little to which to compare this product. However, I can state with complete confidence that Real Companhia Velha Dom Jose ruby port is a great deal better than the slop which the Taylor Fladgate Partnership foists upon Newfoundlanders under the Newman’s Celebrated Port label. Indeed, for what it is, and for what it presumably costs, the wine was well balanced; and, after two or three glasses it would no doubt prove to be agreeable in an emergency situation in which starting expectations were low or, ideally, non-existent.
-80 points