The hare and the tortoise: a tale of two barolos

Hands up if you remember 'rumble in the jungle' in Zaire in 1974? I was just 11 years old at the time but I had been a fan of (Smokin') Joe Frazier (who was not in that bout) since before then when he heroically out slugged Mohammed Ali in Madison Square Gardens in 1971. He was one of my earliest childhood heroes (along with the Leeds United English soccer team led by the late Billy Bremner). When George Foreman demolished him in Kingston Jamaica in early 1973 I was crestfallen. Clearly this new guy on the block was a cut above and would make mincemeat of Ali in Kinshasha? Alas it was not to be and Ali, after literally being on the ropes knocked out Foreman in the eigth round in one of the greatest comebacks in sporting history.

I digress.

The two barolos separated by the absolutely sublime Lamarche Exchezeau 1997

This week I compared two barolos. In the red (modernist) corner the formidable Roberto Voerzio Barolo Cerequio 2000. In the blue (tradionalist) corner Prunotto Barolo Bussia Riserva 1967.

The Voerzio blasted out of the blocks like Usain Bolt, or George Foreman. What a fantastic wine. Gorgeous nose of strawberry and cherry fruits, Christmas cake, spices, tar, roses, violets smoke and earth. Thick and full-bodied on the palate, intense, some hint of oak and fine balancing acidity, silky smooth and long. Simply terrific. A triumphant modern barolo. After a few hours the fruit stood out as being perhaps a little too sweet and the package a little bit too OTT, not that I was complaining, make no mistake this is a fabulous barolo.

I drank the 67 Prunotto tonight. It had a light translucent - actually almost transparent - colour with pronounced orange on the rim (in contrast to the Voerzio's more opaque maroon) - and was reticent and shy on the palate. It came across as being thin and fragile, like some Hollywood movie starlet coming out of rehab. It edged rather than blasted out of the blocks like some shy crustacean. However after a shaky start, this wine started to display its magic with subtle notes of mohogany, walnut and furniture polish; tar and roses; undergrowth and tobacco; Pall Mall club and old church pew; after a while gamey notes: hung pheasant and cured meats ; cedar and pine cones. Then some garrigue. Not full bodied but not lean either; filled the palate copiously with a long and smooth finish; no tannins left and no rough edges, Rather than fade and sail gracefully into the sunset this wine goes from strength to strength. It is dextrous and kaleidoscopic. Perfectly 'a point.'

The Prunotto in all its glory

Like the great US 800m runner David Wottle (the guy with the cap) the Prunotto (the tortoise) pipped the Voerzio (the hare) at the finish. But these are two fabulous and memorable barolos for my 2011 memories.

Watching a TV documentary on Finland

Finland, Finland, Finland
The country where I want to be,
Pony trekking or camping,
Or just watching TV.
Finland, Finland, Finland,
It's the country for me.

You're so near to Russia,
So far from Japan.
Quite a long way from Cairo,
Lots of miles from Vietnam.

Finland, Finland, Finland.
The country where I want to be,
Eating breakfast or dinner,
Or snack lunch in the hall.
Finland, Finland, Finland,
Finland has it all.

You're so sadly neglected,
And often ignored,
A poor second to Belgium,
When going abroad.

Finland, Finland, Finland.
The country where I quite want to be,
Your mountains so lofty,
Your treetops so tall.
Finland, Finland, Finland,
Finland has it all.

Finland, Finland, Finland.
The country where I quite want to be,
Your mountains so lofty,
Your treetops so tall.
Finland, Finland, Finland,
Finland has it all.
Finland has it all...

Courtesy Michael Palin and Monty Python