When wine goes bad

I've just recently realized -- though I suppose I've been aware of it all through -- that I've got a bunch of old wine in my basement, not particularly well-cellared or anything. It's mostly either stuff I bought in a shopping spree when I realized we were leaving Ithaca in 1996, or stuff I bought when I needed to use up my liquor allowance quickly when I was getting laid off from Seagram in 2002. I stopped drinking when I started to try to get pregnant, right at the end of that year, and I didn't really back to drinking outside of social events (that is to say, out of my own home) until I weaned in 2007.

So I've got stuff that dates back to 1990, and although it was decent enough, it's really not doing anyone any good, or getting any better, by staying in the basement. So I'm going to try to start opening it up on a regular basis, and I'm giving myself permission to dump it if I don't like it.

I opened up a Late Harvest Riesling from one of the good Finger Lakes wineries tonight, from 1990. The cork came apart with the corkscrew, dropping its bottom quarter or so into the bottle. The wine had a little less sweetness than it should have, and a lot less of the acidity, so it was pretty bland and insipid. Bleh. Gave up after half a glass.

I'll be curious to see if any of the French import reds, mostly vintage 1996 or so, are still worth drinking. But not tonight.