There’s a young vineyard here, two and a half years old, which Brennan sourced last year at the tender age of 18 months. Most vineyards don’t come online till Year 3. The vineyard is owned by a jet setting American couple, currently based in South Africa, involved in the fast paced world of global finance, Armand and Wendy Todd. The vineyard is planted to a majority of Malbec—the Pride of Mendoza—with a solid chuck of Cabernet Sauvignon, and a mixed back corner of Petite Verdot, Cabernet Franc, and a single row of Tannat—the Pride of Uruguay.
The Todd’s were in town to attend to various affairs and visit Argentine based jet setting friends. They invited Brennan and Nadia out to dinner to discuss the wines he’d made with their fruit last year, and what the future looked like. Brennan took it that they probably meant to invite me as well. Nadia bowed out last minute, sighting the third trimester pregnancy, but more likely because she had some out of town friends over. Brennan and I arrived at the restaurant punctually and first. The restaurant, a high end affair which has been well reviewed in papers as far flung as the New York Times, coincidentally bared the name of Brennan’s lady, Nadia. We were taken to the courtyard dining area, which had a 35 foot table constructed of ancient timbers sitting on three stout legs, I felt a bit like a giant dining at Stonehenge. The chairs were made of barrel stave wood. Three parties of four were to be seated at this antique banquet table. We opted to wait for the rest of our party in a lounge area in front. Armand and Wendy arrived, and we could hear them tell the host they had a reservation for three, maybe four people. They came around the corner, greeted Brennan, kindly inquired as to the whereabouts of his girlfriend, then evaluated me. Clearly I was unexpected. I shook Armand’s hand while clearly reading his face, “Oh good his girlfriend didn’t come so he brought some Dude.” I would have to earn my keep tonight with witty conversation and expert wine knowledge. Don’t fear, I delivered.
The meal was fixed course, an indication of its classiness. It began with steak tartar, paired with a Torrontes of Brennan’s. It was excellent and the Todds, particularly Wendy, loved the Torrontes, even though it could have afforded to be a bit chillier. It was at here I made my only faux pas of the evening. Wendy asked if I like steak tartar, to which I foolishly and regrettably revealed my lack of gastronomic sophistication by admitting I had never tried it! But quickly added, I thought it was delicious. Around this point Wendy leaned in and whispered to me that the Winemaker and Proprietor of O Fournier Winery was dining just down the lintel from me—one of Mendoza’s bigger wine celebrities! He had a passing resemblance to a cleaned up prospector, with untamed curly black hair, a bushy beard, and gold, round framed spectacles. She explained that his wife was the chef whose cuisine we were enjoying.
The second appetizer was sweetbread with greens. I was apprehensive, as I had never eaten bovine neck glands before, but they were savory, albeit chewier than anticipated. At this point we popped a bottle of wine Brennan had made from the Todd Estate. It was young but deeply red, with a fruity, aromatic nose, and full body, with minimal oaking allowing the grapes to speak. The Todds were pleased with their first vintage, as we quaffed it down with our rabbit confit or rib eye—chosen at the diner’s discretion.
At this point there was a bit of a snafu. Brennan had brought what we thought was a second bottle from their vineyard, of a different blend. Upon tasting, he quickly realized we had accessed the wrong pallet, a mistake we eschew responsibility for. The pallets were not correctly labelled at the warehouse, many lacking the vintage, the fault of the facility. Some malbec-cab sav blends from 2009 had the vintage and some did not, while 2010s all lacked a vintage. We grabbed the wrong vintagless blend! The Todds were disappointed, but impressed with the wine none the less. Armand remarked twice, how at least it was a nice opportunity to taste a younger and older wine side by side.
At this point Mother Nature felt we should move the party inside by delivering a dashing of precipitation. We took both rounds of dessert inside, lounging on low couches, the deceased bottles of wine now delivering more frequent rounds of laughter. Brennan and Armand talked some quick shop, he picked up the check— for which I profusely thanked him—and our parties parted ways, with plans to meet up in the near future to deliver some Todd wine, and a standing invitation for me to visit South African wine country.
