The Schlitz of Fortified Wines
It’s like the Schlitz of fortified wines—and I mean that in the best possible way.
If Schlitz was the beer that made Milwaukee famous, Madeira was the wine that quenched the thirst of the American Revolution. But why? Why would wine from a 309 square mile island off the coast of Morocco be all the rage in Colonial America (it’s rumored to be George Washington’s favorite drink)—especially when it was more or less looked down upon in Europe?
Like life itself, it’s all about the journey, not the destination.
(And, like life’s destination, as Benjamin Franklin was quick to point out, there’s always one more factor upon which one can depend with certainty.)
The British Crown, when devising the schedule of taxes on goods arriving in the 13 colonies, had left goods from the island of Madeira off the list entirely, and so the duties on Madeira were lower than those on wines from France, Portugal, Spain, and the rest of the European continent.
But they were still too high for one of the Founding Fathers.
In 1768, five years before the Boston Tea Party, notorious smuggler John Hancock (what, you thought he ran an insurance company?), imported a shipment of Madeira, and was accused of offloading the bulk of the cargo in the middle of the night to avoid paying the taxes on it. A riot ensued, but in a display of great wisdom, this particular cargo, rather than going into Boston Harbor, went directly into the stomachs of the rioters.
So, ok. It was cheap. But why was Madeira more or less the ONLY wine that was consumed in revolutionary America?
Madeira is fortified—that is, after the wine is fermented, some brandy is added to bring the alcohol level up to around 20% or so. No, not to get you drunker faster, although I know that’s what some of you reprobates are thinking.
Thomas Jefferson, who didn’t think himself a boozehound, is frowning at you. “You are not to conclude I am a drinker,” he wrote. “My measure is a perfectly sober one of three or four glasses at dinner, and not a drop an any other time. But as to those three or four glasses, I am very fond.” Now, that’s my kind of sobriety.
Madeira is fortified because it’s bloody hot off the coast of Morocco, and they weren’t exactly flying this stuff over to the New World on the Concorde. No, there are two things that fortified wines like Madeira can handle that regular wines can’t: heat, and movement. (I’ll pause the blog right now while you go take that case of 1961 Petrus off the top of your clothes dryer.)
But Madeira is not only tolerant when it comes to heat and jostling (in that respect, it’s like the frickin’ Ghandi of wines)—it actually gets better after being heated and bounced around, the way it might in, say, the hold of a ship crossing the Atlantic.
The Europeans couldn’t get it. Why were the colonies consuming so much of this obscure, and, frankly, in their opinion, mediocre wine? In typical Old World fashion, they chalked it up to just plain bad taste on the part of the savages, the same way modern-day Europeans might look at, say, Justin Bieber.
But what they didn’t realize is that the Madeira we were drinking in America was a completely different wine. The hotter it got, and the more it bounced, the better it got. Eventually, though the Europeans always catch on (Justin, just wait: you WILL get that Légion d’honneur), and for the home market, they started sending casks of Madeira on voyages to nowhere in the holds of ships, in order to properly bake and jostle them.
And you can feel the heat in the wine. This New York Malmsey from the Rare Wine Company’s Historic Series (made from Malvasia, the sweetest of the Madeira grapes), is all about clove and raisin on the nose. As it hits the air, that nuttiness from oxidation starts to kick in. On the palate, acidity balances out unctuous caramel. It’s like the world’s best fruitcake… liquefied and mixed with a little lemon juice. The finish goes on for 10+ Caudalies.
One of the best things about Madeira is how strong it is. It won’t last just through heat and through distance; it’ll last through time as well. Buy a bottle, have a glass tonight, and drink the rest a week, a month, a year from now—and it’ll only get better. Aged Madeiras, like these, are some of the most brilliant wines known to man.
The wine: The Rare Wine Company’s New York Malmsey
The vintage: NV
The score: 9.3/10
The price: $55ish
The source: Austin Wine Merchant
How weird is it? Given that most of your dinner party guest won’t have ever tried it, it’s weird. But in the most delicious way possible. Weird level: 7/10.