This is the Fourth in a series of posts in which I explore the wonderful world of Port wines, in particular the class known as Aged Tawny Port. See all posts.

This is what it’s all about.

When I started this survey of 20-year old tawnies a couple of months ago, I thought I’d have a deuce of a time topping the Niepoort 20 I selected as a starting point. That wine was elegant, refined, and lush, making me smile with every luxurious sip. Unbeatable, right?

That first impression was reinforced by my second selection a few weeks later. While the Sandeman 20 was a fine drinking experience as well, I have to be honest: it paled in comparison to the Niepoort. Tasty, to be sure, but a little too sweet, a bit too aggressive, lacking just that little bit extra in the finish. I began to think maybe I’d already been to the pinnacle, and there was no place to go but down.

Which brings me to Taylor Fladgate.

I knew the pedigree. Taylor, Fladgate and Yeatman ranks among the largest and oldest of the world’s Port houses, founded way, way back in 1692. While still a family-run business, today Taylor Fladgate is a powerhouse, also shipping under the Fonseca and Croft brands. Big and old: I wasn’t sure what this would really mean when I purchased the bottle. Was I buying something mass-produced and soulless, or did that rich history indicate I was in for something special? I had a sneaky suspicion it would be the former.

So imagine my surprise when I uncorked this bottle and tasted pure velvet. This, this is Port. Smooth, old-fashioned, mellow, filling my head with images of overstuffed armchairs and mahogany-shelved libraries. It’s everything Port is supposed to be, and I love it.

To details: it begins seducing your senses the instant you start to pour. The wine has a rich, ruddy color, somewhere between red brick and a blood orange. Next comes the subtle, refined nose, full of plum and other dark fruit. Dreamy. Mouth-watering. Perfect.

And then the taste. The Taylor has a dense, complex flavor, and while there’s a strong fruitiness to it, it’s not too sweet — more like a touch of honey, balanced by a bit of acidity and a slight whiff of alcohol. You can taste every one of those years in cask. This Port has authority.

But much like the Niepoort, the best comes last. The flavors don’t quit, they bloom on the palate, expanding to fill every space, with a gentle caress that seems to go on forever. It’s just lovely, and this is also the first Port I’ve tried that really works without accompaniment (although dark chocolate pairs very nicely indeed).

Is it better than the Niepoort? I’d have to try them side-by-side to say definitively, but for now I have to put Taylor Fladgate at the top of my (admittedly still very short) list. Which leaves me with the same question I had two months ago: how am I ever gonna top that?

Learn more: www.taylor.pt

This is the third in a series of posts in which I explore the wonderful world of Port wines, in particular the class known as Aged Tawny Port. For more about this project, see the Introduction.

I may not have known much about Port when I decided to undertake this voyage, but I did know that one of my first destinations would be this 20-year-old tawny from Sandeman, a venerable Port name whose roots go back to the 1790s. Sandeman was the first Port brand I ever heard of, and the only one I could name up until a few months ago. That’s almost entirely due to the company’s iconic advertising campaigns of the 1920s, which culminated in the figure of “The Don,” a shadowy, alluring man who remains the Sandeman trademark to this day. The Don is to Port what Bibendum the Michelin Man is to tires: the instantly recognizable embodiment of his industry. His cloaked, faceless form promises mystery, worldliness and even a little danger. How could I not sample his favorite wine?

But enough about the marketing. Let’s get down to reality: this stuff is good. Very, very good. Pale orange in color, the first glass tantalized my nose with a strong, fruity aroma. My initial impression was of peach, but over time I began to pick up more of a cherry or plum tone that also presented itself on the tongue.

This is a very forward wine, declaring its intentions the instant it hits the taste buds. It’s lively, a bit sharp, and quite sweet. Like the Niepoort 20, it has a long, decadent finish. But while the Niepoort kept evolving on the palate as it lingered, the Sandeman sustains a single, unwavering note that slowly fades away.

The Sandeman 20 is wonderfully drinkable. I take small servings and short sips as a rule, but again and again I found I’d taken a larger sip than I thought, finished off the glass faster than I expected, and had to really restrain myself from going back for more. It pairs well with dark chocolate and fruit, but I liked it best with salty cheeses, which successfully countered the sweetness of the Port. If there’s a downside to the Sandeman, it might be that it’s just a tad too sweet for my taste: I don’t think I’d enjoy it nearly as much without food.

Most of the better-stocked wine merchants in my area had this on the shelf (including, surprisingly, one supermarket), with prices averaging a little under $50. I’d still prefer the Niepoort if given a choice, but the Sandeman 20 lived up to its billing, and I’ll definitely return to it in the future.

Learn more: www.sandeman.eu

This is the second in a series of posts in which I explore the wonderful world of Port wines, in particular the class known as Aged Tawny Port. Please be advised that I know ABSOLUTELY NOTHING about wine. For more about this project, see the Introduction.

As I mentioned yesterday, this is really my second bottle of Port: the first was a 10 Year Old Tawny from Graham’s, but unfortunately I didn’t take notes while I was drinking it. Once I decided that I REALLY LIKE PORT, I figured I should find a good benchmark wine as a basis for further exploration.

This wine (bottled 2010) was a bit harder to find and consistently more expensive than the other 20-year old tawnies available at my local shops, with prices ranging from $65 – $85. But it seemed like a really good place to start. I’d heard a lot about Niepoort’s dedication to quality over the past few weeks, and I must say it shows, even to a newbie like myself.

My first impression is of a very elegant bouquet. The Niepoort has much less of the alcoholic vapor I picked up from the Graham’s 10. Instead I smell spice with just a teasing hint of spirits. This wine has a gorgeous, pale, almost burnt-orange color and presents a complex melange of flavors to my palate. I taste hints of plum, chocolate, caramel, maybe even cherry or apricot… especially in the long, lingering finish. While the first flavors are delightful, it’s that aftertaste that really excites me: the way the flavor settles in at the back of my palate and the center of my tongue and just keeps going long after the sip, almost dancing as it reveals a new facet every few seconds: now sweet, now tart.

I’ve found that the glass makes a huge difference with this wine. When I started working my way through the Graham’s, I was using a generic cordial glass, very small and narrow. But after a while I went out and found a high-quality glass from Riedel, one designed especially for Port. Both glasses are gently tapered in a way that concentrates the aroma and intensifies the flavor. But the cordial glass concentrated it too much, making the wine seem sharper and less refined. In contrast, the Port glass opens up the flavor while concentrating just enough of the aroma to tickle your nose. I could sense this difference with the Graham’s 10, but the difference is like night and day with the Niepoort. Lesson learned: drink the Niepoort from a proper glass or not at all.

I’ve tried this in conjunction with soft or semi-soft cheese (Brie and Port-Salut), which I enjoyed very much. But I also loved it with chocolates, especially those with a caramel center. That chocolate-caramel combination is dynamite, reflecting and enhancing flavors that are already present in the Port while also adding a slight bittersweet tinge. But whether with a dessert or just on its own, the Niepoort is really something special.

Learn more: www.niepoort-vinhos.com