1931 Toro Albala Don PX Convento Seleccion 750ml, Montilla-Moriles Andalucia

18% ABV. If someone told you they kept a wine for 84 years in barrel before bottling, you'd think they are nuts, right? Well, that's what the folks at Toro Albalá in Aguilar de la Frontera - in the province of Cordoba, part of the Montilla Moriles appellation - did with their 1931 Don PX Convento Selección. This is part of what they call 'vinos olvidados,' which means 'forgotten wines.' The border is amber, with green tints that denote very old age. Such old age provides an array of unusual aromas and flavors, including iodine and salt that compensate the sweetness (403 grams) and even the alcohol (18%). It's terribly balsamic, with notes of dry herbs and spices, cigar ash, carob beans (algarrobas), incense and noble woods. The palate is very, very sweet and concentrated, unctuous, dense, with a chewy texture. This goes beyond a glass of wine, a drop of it is like having a piece of cake. I don't think this reaches the complexity and depth of the 1946, which remains the benchmark for these old sweet PX, but it's truly terrific! 9,650 bottles were filled in June 2015.

98 points, Luis Gutiérrez, The Wine Advocate 

From a vintage that predates almost everything around it, the 1931 Don PX Convento Selección is one of those bottles that feels surreal to open. Toro Albalá has been quietly building these wines in Montilla Moriles since 1922, drawing from soleras that move at a glacial pace, and this release comes from some of the oldest casks in the cellar, where Pedro Ximénez has been concentrating and evolving for generations.

The aromatics are almost overwhelming in their depth. Waves of raisin, fig and date roll into molasses, espresso and bitter chocolate, then keep unfolding, burnt orange peel, walnut, antique wood, old leather and a deep rancio note that brings a savoury, almost broth like complexity. There’s even a flicker of balsamic and spice that lifts it just enough.

It moves like something between a wine and an elixir. Thick, viscous and endlessly coating, yet never cloying. The sweetness is immense but perfectly held in place by a fine line of bitterness and freshness. Toffee, coffee, caramelised nuts and spice keep building, the finish stretching out in a way that feels almost endless.

This is where you can really push things. Pour it over vanilla bean ice cream with shaved black truffle, or match it with a dense flourless chocolate cake spiked with olive oil and sea salt. It’s incredible with aged gouda and quince paste, or something like a roasted fig and almond tart with a drizzle of honey. Even a simple bowl of toasted walnuts and dark chocolate shards becomes something else entirely alongside it.

Fully mature and essentially timeless, it will hold beautifully once opened if stored carefully, though bottles like this tend to disappear quickly once shared.

There’s a sense of gravity here, a wine shaped over nearly a century, offering a depth and complexity that very few things can match.