Above: hot dogs from Katz Delicatessen and Barbaresco.

I’m a man of means by no means.
— Roger Miller

This summer’s mid-life crisis has rolled over into fall: it’s snowing in New York, I’m broke, soon-to-be unemployed, living out of a suitcase, sleeping on a futon on my buddy’s living room floor, and I’ve got a lot of good wine that needs to be drunk because I have nowhere to store it (since I became homeless back in August).

Money’s tight and so Friday night I picked up hot dogs from Katz Delicatessen on the Lower East Side and met up with a few wine buddies to open some bottles.

A 1999 Rabajà by Produttori del Barbaresco was “cooked” or maderized (a term derived from the Portuguese island Madeira where they make a fortified wine). When I pulled the cork, I could feel that it was brittle and dried out. This can often mean that some oxygen seeped it into the bottle and caused the wine to age rapidly. While it was drinkable, it was indeed oxidized, had a syrupy texture and brownish color (reminiscent of a fortified wine, hence the term, maderized). Good (unoaked) Nebbiolo should always be clear in color. Opacity and color are always the first indication of a wine’s quality (N.B.: color and opacity vary depending grape variety and winemaking style).

A Produttori 1996 Pajé was fantastic and drank beautifully. The last glass had tartrates in it (see above): tartrates — sometimes called “wine diamonds” — are tasteless, odorless tartaric crystals that can form on the inside of traditional old oak barrels. Many mistake them for sediment. They impart no flavor to the wine and are actually a good sign (in my book): when you see tartrates, you are likely drinking a wine that was made in traditional, large oak casks.

Barbaresco and hot dogs? Rich man, poor man — depending on how you look at it.