VINTAGE TASTINGS - Epic European 'Vacation'

EPIC EUROPEAN 'VACATION'

WARNING: This is a really long article and may cause you to consume more than your doctors daily recommended amount of red, white and sparkling wine. Wheels down I teased you a bit last week about my trip to Europe, which yes, was a business trip.  When you literally drink, arrive, unpack, drink, eat, drink, sleep, wake, pack, drink then move, it becomes more than just a casual journey, and I think I missed a drink or two in there.  And Im the only idiot that can go on such a trip and not have any luggage with wheels.  New luggage is still on my list; the problem is, I prefer to shop for wine :) Let me cut to the chase, as there are about 120 wines that I tasted, not counting any barrel samples during my four days in Burgundy, which would easily double that total.  Im sure I missed a few notes along the way.  The trip began in beautiful Mallorca chez Wolfgang Grunewald, and his amazing property.  I almost canceled the entire trip right then and there, it is that special a place.  Wolf still keeps his collection in Switzerland; therefore, it was casual drinking in Mallorca, but it didnt matter.  A couple days thereafter, the wine got rather serious rather quickly. Bern, Switzerland was the location, and Pekka was behind the curtain, directing his version of A Midsummers Night Dream.  And the first official wine of my trip was the 1961 Dom Perignon.  Its a good way to start any trip to Europe, I might add.  The debate over which is the best vintage of the best decade for Champagne is always an interesting argument, although I personally go for 61 over 66.  This bottle was a hair advanced, mature and warm with aromas of honey, yeast and dirty earth, with a twist of lemon.  The acidity was still outstanding, but the bubbles were more integrated than in a perfect bottle, yet its richness made it still quite enjoyable, despite the fact this was an affected bottle (95A). Next up was the original shipwrecked Champagne, the 1907 Heidseick Gout Americain.  Pekka had treated me to a bottle of this before our own, recent shipwrecked auction, and it was consistently excellent, although a bit sweet for my taste.  They called it Gout Americain because it was a much sweeter style of Champagne, made for that sophisticated, sugar-loving palate of the Americans lol.  The 1907 was perfumed and limey, its sugary personality quite evident.  A touch of doc office and burnt rubber seeped out of the glass, as if the 104 years of age was speaking first.  Fresh cut grass was also present in its complex nose.  The palate was round, sweet and lush with a yeasty finish.  It was round and tender, wine-like and soft, with a nice citrus mélange of flavors.  Pekka then told us this had about three-to-five times the normal sugar as a standard Brut (94)! The first red wine was a magnificent one, a 1945 Latour.  My love affair with the 45 Latour has long been documented, as I have been fortunate to always have great bottles of this wine, finding it one of the most under-heralded wines of arguably the greatest vintage of all-time.  Its fantastic nose was deep, rich and minty, oozing out cassis and walnut at a glacial pace.  There were layers and layers of spice, a blend between North African and Latin American&or perhaps this bottle was well-traveled J.  If it was, it traveled well, as its palate was rich, luscious and thick with a creamy, nutty and bricky personality.  Its acidity was outstanding, and the 45 Latour was still rock n roll to me (98). What better wine than 1961 Latour to have next?  The 61 is Pekkas personal #1 wine of all-time, and he has had it over 100 times.  Man, I thought my fifteen-to-twenty times tasted was pretty strong&the 61 was another classic, again deep and brooding, full of signature walnut and cassis, with a hint of exotic berry and fig.  Caramel and mocha drizzled about the nose.  Its palate was also long and thick with perfectly-centered, lengthy acidity and an endless finish.  The 45 was more seductive with its kinky fruit, but the 61 would win a back alley fight.  There were great slate and stone flavors on the finish.  This was an extraordinary bottle (98+). The next flight was billed a Jancis vs. Pekka one, as a wine from their respective birthyears were on display.  A 1950 Lafleur was a welcome change of pace with its classic Pomerol nose.  There were loads of creamy plums there, along with a deep, nutty quality.  Someone called it, extremely silky, wonderful to drink.  The palate was gamey and sweet; it reminded me of other, sweeter vintages of Lafleur like 1982 and 1983.  Silk kept coming up in my notes, along with sweet, and royal garden.  Jancis called it, one of the most hedonistic wines Ive ever tasted and also found it very Burgundian (96). A 1962 Vega Sicilia Unico had a creamy, exotic nose of caramel, coconut and coffee.  It was nutty in a macadamia-brittle way.  The palate was round, soft and tasty, with a warm, smooth finish.  It was as seductive as the Lafleur, but not as powerful.  Someone remarked that the Unico was coarse next to the Lafleur (94+). A curious fellow came along in the form of a 1928 Chevillot Tache-Romanee Negociant bottling.  Youll have to ask the Burghound or The Inspector for the full story, but I did jot down that this was the original 1.5 acres of La Tache.  Its nose was deep and fascinating, with black cherry fruit and great musk and spice.  The palate was round and soft, with black fruits joining the party as it unfolded.  There was a big, long finish of rusty, citric fruit and hidden, lingering acidity.  It was a touch square, but still outstanding, although it was a little negociant-y, ie that touch of unoriginal factory.  Thankfully in this case, it didnt murder the wine :) (95). Next up was another Negociant bottling, one of the most famous, Vandermeulen.  I have had a few superlative VdM bottles over the years, but more disappointments.  The 1923 DRC Romanee Conti Vandermeulen bottling was no disappointment; it was thrilling.  This bottle came from the same case as multiple 100 point bottles, per Pekka, even there is no such thing as 100 points J.  It nose was fabulous, with that classic, old RC quality.  Aromas of tomato, rose, bouillon, saucy red fruits and a kiss of normal-for-the age oxidation harmonized magnificently.  There was also great citricity, and the palate had an incredible texture full of flesh and thick flavors.  Its aromas carried over to its flavors, along with some beef and stalk, and its zippy finish said age me more if you can bear to wait (98). A 1979 Henri Jayer Vosne Romanee Cros Parantoux, in and of itself a great wine, almost seemed lost in the shadow of the RC.  It was a bit wild and grassy, beefy and barny.  Its fruit was more purple, and the palate much brighter.  It really hit a high note in the mouth, its autumnal edge blending in with mature bouillon flavors. What really set this apart was its finish, which felt like a peacock soprano blended with a screaming organ; translation: impressive acidity (95). The tasting was now finished, and dinner would soon begin.  In the interest of actually finishing this article, here is the summary of dinner, along with a quicker summary thereafter: 2005 Aile dArgent                                          2001 Sine Qua Non Albino                           2010 F.X. Pichler Underlich Riesling        1950 La Conseillante Eschenauer mag    1950 Petrus                                                        1950 La Mission Haut Brion mag               1924 Clos de la Roche ???                            2001 dYquem                                                  2000 Pavie                                                          2005 LEglise Clinet                                         1975 Gaja Barbaresco double mag           2005 Le Tertre Roteboeuf                            2001 Sine Qua Non Incognito                     1976 dYquem                                                   (91) (93) (92+) (88M) (94A) (96M) (90) (99) (85) (95+) (89D) (93) (94) (94) Thats where I threw in the towel, even though there were some Ports and such still coming.  It had been about eight hours of tasting including a short break, and I was officially done.  Some notes about the above wines:  The Aile dArgent is the white wine made by Mouton, and I enjoyed it thoroughly.  It was classic white Bordeaux and tasty, something I could easily drink all night.  I have always liked SQN whites, finding them unique and hedonistic over the years.  The Roussanne/Chard/Viognier blend of the Albino was kinky, as these whites always are, and exotic.  The wine was about as muscular and monstrous as whites get.  The Pichler was a barrel sample and had amazing aromatics, but it was shut down on the palate.  It had New World fruit, but Old World character.  I do love Austrian whites and find myself casually drinking them more often.  The Conseillante Negociant bottling had an interesting nose that was aromatic and cake-like, with black and strawberry fruits, but the palate was citrusy and dry, lacking complexity and fruit.  The Petrus was oxidized a bit, so it was tough to see it in all of its splendor.  It was still drinkable, in a salty and rusty way, tight and bright.  The 1950 La Mission Haut Brion magnum gets its own note, as it was that delicious.  I have debated with others whether La Mission is the most consistent Chateau of the 20th century, as far as the quality of its wine every year, as well always making a great wine in a great vintage.  This was classic La Miss, with aromas of gravel, charcoal, chocolate, tobacco and band-aids on the toes.  Fresh herbs and buckwheat called out someone, and this magnum didnt show an ounce of deterioration.  The palate was delicious, incredibly consistent with its delectable nose, along with some stone flavors and a dry caramel kiss.  It was a wow wine (96M). Back to the regular program, the 1924 Clos de la Roche by not-sure-who was a bit oxidized but decent, dirty yet enjoyable, which is kind of how you want an experience to go with someone when you dont know their name lol.  Even though I am not a big drinker of sweet wines, it was hard not to notice the greatness of the 2001 Yquem.  This was so rich, so oily, so special, with coconut and cocoa butter and an exotic passionfruit, peach and apricot three-way unfolding dramatically in front of me.  So creamy, so incredible, it was much more than just so so.  The Pavie had apparently been opened for nine hours; perhaps they should have waited another nine days.  There were some artificial aromas I didnt care for, along with a simple square palate.  It felt manufactured, and the nine hours of air-time really exposed its flaws.  LEglise Clinet has been on a roll the last ten years, and the 2005 played to the strengths of the Chateau and the vintage.  It was rich and concentrated, full of acidity, with other words like classic, brooding, heavy, royal, plum, chocolate, rocky, dry in my notes.  2005s are still quite infantile, by the way, too big for this early enjoyment at a top level.  The Gaja was a significant wine for Angelo Gaja, as it was the first year he bought American oak and barriques, so he is very proud of this vintage.  It was leathery and dry, a bit simple and sandy.  The Tertre Rotebeouf reminded me of Syrah more than Bordeaux; again the raging bull quality of 2005 shined a bit too brightly.  This was another big, aggressive wine with huge acidity and a concentrated personality.  This was more beefy and gamey than the LEglise, a touch stewy and quite inky.  The Incognito was Grenache all the way with its strawberry and rhubarb nose.  SQN is one of the few wines where I can drink this uber-concentrated, Cali style - huge, sexy and over the top.  The 76 Yquem was excellent, but merely that. And that was my first tasting in Europe this summer, and I was officially ready for duty.  A quick train ride found me in Basel the next day, preparing for the first of many day/night doubleheaders.  The highlight of lunch was a lovely 1953 Comte de Vogue Musigny Vieilles Vignes.  The nose spoke of vanilla ice cream at first sniff, along with some deep and rich black cherry, and a little kiss of almost gasoline.  There was a stinky edge to its rusty and earthy flavors, and vanilla was present again on its round finish.  Tender, old sandalwood and strawberry flavors emerged.  It was a touch warm, so we chilled it a touch, and spice and oil came out more.  Our gracious host found it deep and meaty, and more toasted when warmer.  The wine was a beautiful 53, tender and loving like a warm welcome (93). We also sampled for lunch: 2002 Roederer Cristal       1995 Jayer-Gilles Echezeaux      1997 DRC Richebourg                           (92) (88) (91) I have found most bottles of Cristal post-1996 a bit tight and lacking the complexity I desire.  I hope the formula hasnt changed since then.  The Jayer-Gilles was dark and woody for a Burgundy, almost Spanish, and it was brawny and clumsy.  The DRC was a bit green and stalky with some beef stew in there.  Stems, tea, spice, broth, citrus and root cola were all present, but the 97 was a bit primitive and not fleshy or meaty like a good 97 can be. I was blown away by a bottle of 2004 Deutz Blanc de Blancs before dinner.  I was expecting something young and tight, but it was absolutely delicious.  Creamy and balanced with delightful buttered sugar qualities, the Deutz delivered a full-bodied yet fine experience, giving me hope for 2004, although I couldnt tell you much about the vintage now  its too young for me to pay too much attention yet :) (95). There was also a 2002 Amour de Deutz that we sampled, and even though I think it is also Blanc de Blancs yet more expensive, I preferred the 2004.  The 2002 had lots of strength but lacked layers, and its bubbles were a bit aggressive (91). Ok, since there were only three more wines for dinner, Ill keep writing this one up to the very end.  The first was a 1999 Dujac Clos de la Roche.  Dujac is one of my favorite things, and the nose on the 99 reminded me why.  There were great aromatics of purple rain, comprised of stem and earth, a pop of kernel, and deep, wide fruit.  One of our friends noted bacon, and the other nice wood.  The nose left a dusty and zippy impression, intoxicating with its wealthy fruit, but the palate was soft and completely closed.  It was as if it was a completely different wine.  Even Sebastien, our European director who accompanied me the entire trip across Europe, noted that the palate was not as joyful as the nose.  It was likened to an English girl, showing you a lot but then nothing in the end. Hey, I didnt say it, Im just the messenger.  It got better with some food, but then took a step back after the Barolo that followed.  It was like a 97-point nose and then a 91-point palate.  I was on the 94-point border, but like I said, the Barolo knocked it down a peg.  I am curious to revisit this wine again in a couple years, but right now, it needs time (93). The Barolo that followed was a 1990 G. Mascarello Barolo Monprivato, a special wine.  Its sweet, black nose was glazed in baked soy, leather, tar and Nebbiolo dust.  It was very aromatic, and its palate was also soft at first, at least softer than I expected.  Sebastien noted, black tea, and the wine started to show off its excellent acidity.  Eucalyptus was also noted, and while the wine became outstanding with some time, I was a bit surprised how charming this wine was.  I was always under the impression that 1990 was the type of year in Piedmont that would last 40 years, but this bottle had me wondering if I should be drinking a few more of these up sooner (95). A 2004 Cos dEstournel was so young, but like honey to a young bee.  We had a Bordeaux lover amongst us.  A touch of oak grilled its nose, along with corn stalk, cassis, pencil and earth.  Some blueberry twists emerged on the palate as it aired out, along with some butter and caramel.  While pleasant and classic, it was anti-climactic (91).  And that was day two.  Dont worry, there are only twenty-three days left. A quick flight to Nice had me there in time for dinner, and I sampled a trio of old and tasty Remoissenets with a longstanding industry insider. 1966 Remoissenet Gevrey-Chambertin Combottes               (91A) 1959 Remoissenet Grands Echezeaux                                    (94) 1966 Remoissenet Clos de Vougeot                                        (92) These were all quite tasty and enjoyable wines.  Remoissenet used to be one of Burgundys most important Negociants, although the purity of their wines has been debated, as they were a big believer in reconditioning their wines, which is why old Remoissenets always look perfect.  Regardless, I always find old Remoissenets sweet and pleasing with little to no defaults, and these were no exception.  They wont hit the heights of other great, old wines, but they are always solid.  Of note, there are new owners at Remoissenet committed to bringing the brand back to elite status, so stay tuned. It was off to Burgundy, which was the longest stop of any place during my month abroad, and theres good reason for that.  Generally speaking, I like to drink Pinot, and theres no place like Burgundy when it comes to Pinot Noir.  Sunday was a travel day, so we kept it light, and Sebastien and I split a bottle of 2007 Dujac Clos de la Roche.  It was absolutely delicious, just a pleasure to drink.  This would become a recurring theme regarding 2007 for the month.  I wouldnt hesitate to drink any top 2007 now and see for yourself; these are going to be delicious wines for a bit, although not from a great vintage.  The wine was excellent, and technically probably 93-points, but if I used the Pekka ratings system of pleasure for this wine, I would bump it up to (94). I visited numerous top Domaines while in Burgundy, and I was quite impressed with the 2010s.  They are superb wines, more of a connoisseurs vintage as opposed to the wam-bam 2009s.  I wouldnt hesitate to go long on 2010.  Something else I found out during my few days in Burgundy is that while 2009 is a great vintage, it isnt as universally great as say 2005.  There were a couple 2009s that were already stewed, so this easy-to-enjoy vintage might not always be easy.  One producer confided that he thought his 08s were better, and I agreed with him.  Dont get me wrong, 2009 is a great vintage; all Im sayin is 2010 might be better, and could outlast its older brother. When in Burgundy, time cannot be better spent than with Aubert de Villaine of Domaine de la Romanee Conti.  I had the pleasure of a morning visit with Aubert, who is serious yet compassionate, always full of knowledge and wisdom, and a true ambassador for Burgundy.  Whenever I think of Aubert, I think of the word gentleman, as he defines it. I will only write up one 2010, the 2010 DRC La Tache.  I could have written up the RC, but we all know that La Tache is usually better for the first thirty years :). This wine snapped, crackled and whipped its way to my heart.  Its terroir screamed inside my glass; the acidity was superb. It lingered like an intense orgasm, its black fruit dripping all over.  I better stop there.  I usually dont give big scores to young wines, but the 2010 La Tache seemed like a no-brainer (97+). And I will write up the other two wines we had at DRC.  2007 was an early topic of conversation for us, and curiosity got to Aubert, who wanted to revisit an 07 from the cellar after our glowing review of the Dujac.  The 2007 DRC Romanee St. Vivant was fuller than the average 2007, in a league of its own kind of way.  Blacker in fruit, and much more reserved, it whispered behemoth.  About as serious as 07 can get, the RSV wanted us to come back and see it again later, as in a few years later (94). Aubert and JK tasting '08 Montrachet The 2008 DRC Montrachet was an unexpected treat.  We couldnt taste the 2010 Montrachet due to the fermentation or technological reason of the sorts, so Aubert apologetically pulled out the 2008 Monty.  Apology accepted J.  The Montrachet was another full-throttle, delicious wine.  It was rich and exotic with that signature kiss of botrytis that Aubert achieves year after year.  I think Britney Spears may have summed it up best when she said, Gimme more, or maybe that was King Angry, I cant remember.  The King has given up his throne, however, for a nobler pursuit, sort of.  More details to follow next article, maybe, lol (96). Jeremy Seysses of Dujac, Freddie Mugnier and Jean-Marc Roulot also pulled out older bottles from the cellar.  Jeremy shared a 1995 Dujac Clos St. Denis, which just turned the corner, per Jeremy.  1995 was the vintage that everyone gave up on, but this was quite aromatic and savory.  There was wild animal and barny aromas, along with beet root and olive.  While this was a great food wine for sure, the 95 was still a touch dry, which was always the knock on it.  This showed better than I expected, and showed why it is often better to buy by producer rather than vintage (93).  Freddie blind tasted us on a 2008 Mugnier Bonnes Mares, which had a wow nose.  This was deep, classic Mugnier with a kaleidoscopic nose of red and purple.  Forest, cedar and spice were all pillars in its nose, and its wealth of fruit made me surprised to learn it was a 2008.  There was more fruit here than in most 2008s, but its palate was all 08, full of spice and acidity on its hot, spicy finish.  Its been in the bottle one year now, and it was showing delicious citrus and red fruit flavors of cranberry and pomegranate.  Freddie has come a long way with his Bonnes Mares, and he will be the first to admit that he has had to do a lot of work with his particular section of the vineyard over the last twenty years (94+).  Roulot was one of my favorite visits, except for the fact that Jean-Marc plowed us under with more wines than I can possibly remember.  I do remember a 1986 Roulot Meursault Tillets that was divinely mature and delicious, with lots of decadent botrytis and a sweet, corn-fed finish.  This was a fully mature, perhaps a hint overmature, but I loved its hedonistic style.  This was a stripper white, and I stumbled out of there with cash in hand ready to spend, on Meursault, of course.  Jean-Marc has quietly become considered an elite producer of white Burgundy over the past decade, by the way (93). JK with Frederic Mugnier JK with Jean-Marc Roulot JK with Michel Niellon Of course, a working man must always have dinner, and dinner with Louis-Michel Liger-Belair was a pleasure, as we love hanging with Burgundys brightest new star, even though his Domaine is really an old star&see May Hong Kong catalog for more details.  We shared a couple of nice wines, including a big and brawny 1999 Domaine Leflaive Batard Montrachet (94) as well as a tight yet complex 2005 Arlaud Bonnes Mares.  When we asked about someone new in Burgundy doing some good things, Arlauds name came up more than once (93+). There was dinner at Montrachet in Montrachet, and 2007 was the ultimate decision again&for the red.  After so much Chardonnay all day, or at least half of it, a man could only be expected to order a 2002 Trimbach Riesling Clos Ste. Hune.  It was fabulous and spectacular as always, another one of my favorite things.  Picture petrol, mineral, mountain, tang, character, acidity and pure Riesling fruit, and there you have Clos Ste. Hune, one of the few white wines in the rest of the world that can compete with Montrachet (95).  Oh yeah, the 2007 this time was 2007 Joseph Drouhin Vosne-Romanee Petits-Monts.  Wines from Drouhin are another one of my favorite things, and this was another tasty and ready-to-go 2007, from a very special vineyard unknown to most.  This was another 92-point wine that was 93 on this given day (93). Dinner with Eric Rousseau was also a pleasure, especially since he pulled a 1976 Rousseau Chambertin Clos de Beze from the cellars.  When I asked him about the tendency for 76s to be good for a short period of time and then fall off a cliff, he replied, not from my cellar, touché :).  We had someone in the 76 corner, a proud father and deservedly so.  The Beze was another delicious Burg, showing rich character and earth and menthol flavors.  This bottle showed the good side of 76, and it didnt fall off a cliff (93).  We also shared a ripe 1997 Domaine Leflaive Batard Montrachet.  It had mature fruit, nice balance and acidity that was still vimful.  1997 is sleeper year for whites, although most are probably at that point of no further return (93). Another must-see when in Burgundy is Allen Meadows, aka The Burghound, the worlds foremost expert on Burgundy, and The Inspector, who is usually not far from Allen during this time of the year.  It just so happens that The Inspector, who has sworn his soul to Burgundy, is born on Bastille Day, and we gathered at Le Bistro de lHotel accordingly to celebrate the birthday of one of Pinots true princes. We started with an old bottling of NV Krug Rose, most likely from the early 80s.  Its nose was still quite expressive and despite a kiss of fino sherry, there was still earthy, rose fruit there.  There was also wet wool that wasnt too wooly, and touches of rust and grass.  The palate was full-bodied, tangy and zippy, showing light lime flavors and a very dry finish.  Allen appreciated its complexity (92). A rare 1971 Brunet Meursault Genevrieres had a warm toasty nose with whiffs of wood, and loads of honey and beeswax.  We soon forgave The Inspector for the fact that he meant to pull out a 71 Ramonet, since the wine was quite excellent.  Its nose was deeper than I expected, delivering a rich, big and luscious impression.  Whitney cooed, Yummmm, while the Inspector gave it a pleasantly surprised nice.  It was tasty in a mature way, with yeasty flavors and solid acidity still.  Someone noted, wild horse kicking up pollen (93). A 1962 Gros Frere et Soeur Richebourg was a spectacular bottle.  The nose was fabulously sweet and perfumed, full of black and red fruits, with a wonderful mix of fruit and spice.  It was sweet, musky and simply great, just another one of those absolutely delicious bottles of Burgundy, with everything in the right place.  Based on a couple of other recent 62s, I was starting to wonder if this vintage had seen its best days, but this bottle told me otherwise (96). The 1978 Jean Gros Richebourg that followed didnt quite follow suit.  We dove into the Gros family tree since we had Allen with us, I even made a diagram but its just way too much typing right now.  Allen then went off on a tangent about Missouri, frogs and Alaska, but I cant quite put all the details together again.  The 78 was hailed as mysterious, but its aromas were anything but.  A hint of bacon led the way for forest, black fruits, wheat and earth.  It was big but seemed simpler after the 62, still very good but not close.  More cherry came out in the glass, sprinkled with spice.  It got sweeter and better in the nose, but its palate got lighter (92). The Burghound using some of The Inspectors tools on the 1915 We had to have an obligatory 1947 in honor of The Inspectors vintage, and the 1947 Francois de Montille Volnay Champans was up for the challenge.  Ironically, Hubert de Montille wasnt around Le Bistro on this night, event though he usually is.  Doug noted, A little VA, but good, to which Allen commented, If there is no VA in a 47, then Im suspicious.  There was deep fruit here, a touch sweet a la most 47s.  There was brown sugar in this aromatic Beauner, which was almost honeyed.  In the mouth, the Volnay was tasty, sweet, rich and beefy, with bamboo flavors to boot.  Whether the wine was party time or over the top became a debate between Whitney and Doug.  The wine was sexy, friendly and flavorful, a bit of a stripper Burgundy, but we all know there is a time and place for a good stripper lol; even The Inspector conceded that (93). A 1947 Couturier Clos de la Roche had that slightly overripe yet not cooked 47 quality, with more citrus, while someone observed, Vieux Marc and cassis.  There were nice animal flavors, along with the horse and the saddle.  While I liked the Volnay more at first, the Grand Cru quality caught up with some time in the glass, and the wine became sweeter and lusher.  It was neck and neck in the end (93). The final wine on this magical night was a 1915 Hotel de Fontainebleau Corton.  Well, the Hotel didnt make the wine, but there was no trace of the producer on this label, just that it was made for the hotel.  Signature bacon fat and ripeness came from Allen.  The wine was super gamy and sweet, lush and tasty with butter, violet and ice cream flavors.  It was also (93). Pekkas Wall of Fame It was goodbye Burgundy, hello Helsinki.   Pekka and Juha were delaying their vacation for my arrival, and they treated me to a trio of Cunes, after a warmup of 1982 Taittinger Comtes de Champagne.  The Tatt had a white sugary nose, with an amber apple juice edge to it.  There was light burnt caramel and fresh garden to go with its dry straw and minerally aromas.  A whiff of oak flavors graced its spritely and full-bodied palate.  It was a bit square, with orange peel and white cola flavors on its finish.  Pekka found it very intense and refined as well.  It seemed mature for an 82, and Juha noted that it had a Dom nose, but its one-dimensional on the palate, which was a bit tough, but I understood what he was saying (92). Our first Cune was the 1944 Cune Rioja Vina Real Reserva Especial.  I have long loved old Cunes, and this bottle thankfully didnt break my heart.   Juha admired its rich nose, and it had a wonderful animal streak, along with a very silky and smoky style per our two hosts.   Charcoal and salty pistachio skin were also present; I have to take half-credit for that Juha quote; it was a joint effort.  The swords were drawn, and the joust was on.  Tobacco, smoke, matchbox, cedar, garden and tobacco were all there in this complex nose.  The flavors were rich coffee ones, and red and black licorice joined the party.  It was ripe without being sweet, and impressive for a 1944.  Caramel and a leathery kink crept in to this tasty, old wine (93). Close up of the Wall of Fame The 1952 Cune Rioja Vina Real Reserva Especial had a similar character, although it was more grassy and pungent at first.  It had that caramel-y, old Spanish fruit as well.  Light leather and nice spice meshed with wheat in the nose.  Pekka found, more structure and freshness in the 52.  Its palate was rich and big but a bit shy, its fruit black and blue with a touch of brown.  Lush, round and sumptuous, the 52 opened up nicely and felt wealthier and darker than the 44.  Light coffee on the finish cemented this as uniquely Spanish (94). The 1966 Cune Rioja Vina Real Reserva Especial was, surprise, similar as well.  Of course, it came across fresher and younger than the previous two, with more vibrancy coming from its wood.  It was the deepest and most powerful of the three, with aggressive male energy.  Rocks and stones were also noticeable nasally.  The palate was more chocolaty with great spice and minerality, and much more acidity.  Powerful yet well-balanced came from one of our hosts, along with a couple of other tidbits.  1949 and 1962 are apparently the best Cunes, and Riojas are like Burgundy, while Ribera del Dueros are like Rhones (95). When in Helsinki, always go to Stockholm, and who better to see in Stockholm than Richard Juhlin, the worlds foremost expert on Champagne.  We had caught Richard for the one night he was in Stockholm around this time.  He brought the bubbly, and we brought the wine.  A rare magnum of 1995 Mumms Cramant came out first.  It was disgorged only two weeks ago, and I think something like only 200 magnums were made, and its only available at the Domaine.  Only Juhlin could start off casually with something totally obscure and VIP access like that, although he humbly presented his Cramant as more aperitif than dessert, even though Cramants are associated with dessert.  There were milder bubbles, but you still felt its Champagne Mojo.  Sweet and smoky honey aromas mixed with truffle and apple notes.  While it was a touch sweeter in the nose, the palate was still delicious and easy to drink.  Sebastien found it, really refreshing.  It certainly was, as the four of us put down a magnum before four other wines.  Crushed shells worked their way into the nose, and Richard noted, creamy mousse, mineral and honey (93M). Richard then went deep into the cellar with an incredible bottle of 1955 Roederer that was disgorged in 1959 and came directly from the cellars of Roederer before him.  It needed a little time to shake off its cobwebs, and earthy notes emerged first accordingly, followed by wet animal and wool.  Then came the complexity.  Richard noticed, very fresh on the palate with toasted coffee and chocolate, and apricot and orange marmalade.  Its cepe qualities were big-time per the both of us, and its dusty and dark, old-fashioned style appealed to me.  The palate was mushroomy and white chocolaty, mature with its autumnal fruit and kiss of brown suga, along with an earthy finish.  Richard also found smoked meat and grilled flavors.  The palate broadened and became more muscular as the mushroom quality softened; musk soon replaced it.  Bread, wheat and crème brulee made me follow the brick road and its fresh finish all the way home (96). We continued our quest to get to know 2007 Burgs a little better with a bottle of 2007 Comte de Vogue Musigny Vieilles Vignes.  It was another fragrant and aromatic 07, soft and sweet but also exhibiting a bit more tension.  There were great forest and citrus aromas, along with hints of truffle and red n purple fruits galore.  This had great character for 07, and its round, lush palate had bright citrus and spice on its solid finish.  There is this sweet kiss of Cali to all the 07s, but I happen to like Cali Pinots, well, except for the really cheap ones, and the really expensive ones, too, come to think of it.  Smooth and mature, along with almost marshmallow came from the crowd (93+). Dinner with Juhlin The 2006 Comte de Vogue Musigny Vieilles Vignes was milder in the nose at first, and wood cellar qualities came out initially.  Strawberry and a touch of liqueur were next in line, followed by meaty wild boar.  It had a thicker yet less expressive palate, and Johan found it a bit rougher and tougher.  Richard thought the 06 was a little better, and the 06 certainly was more serious.  Its fruit started to show its gamey side, and it became bigger, richer and more luscious.  Sebastien found it, really serious.  While 07 charmed, 2006 was clearly the long-distance runner.  Richard took it one step further, finding the 2007 a one-night stand, while the 06 was a relationship.  Thats the good thing about drinking a bottle of 2007, you only need it for one night lol (95). A 2005 Pingus was almost too much, too late.  Oak was immediately noticeable in this thick wine.  While it had a New World feel, it still had the Old World foundation.  This was a monster that was somehow integrated in a massive way.  It was like an oil spill of fruit, with cedar, wood and oak splattered all around it.  The alcohol was a bit forward, and my notes ended with buttery bananas and thunder thighs, Amsterdam-style.  Its actually an accurate descriptor (93). It was off to Germany for a couple days of heavy eating.  This is where my equilibrium started to go off- kilter.  I think it was 22 courses in two days that commenced with a visit with the Terminator.  It started innocently enough with a deep, heavy 1996 Taittinger Comtes de Champagne Rose that was the razors edge but a little shut down (94).  A wild 1920s Mumms Cordon Rouge proved to be an exciting bottle, even though the vintage label was deteriorated to the point where we could not determine its vintage.  It was labeled Tres Sec and serial-numbered; I suppose it could have been from the 30s or 40s as well, but the Terminator had reason to believe this was from the Roaring Twenties.  The nose was like apple cider meets molasses, with a sweet, Ben and Jerrys Heath Bar ice cream feel.  The palate was also apple-y, but more on the apple butter side.  Lush and creamy, there was a caramel kiss on its bubble-less finish.  It continued to get more complex, and banana flambé and oak emerged.  What was most amazing about this wine is that it held in the glass over an hour (95)! The 2005 Ramonet Montrachet was akin to ice, with a frozen citrus pop to it.  Clean and fresh, its nose felt like rain melting ice.  As it warmed, its great spice emerged.  The wine never lost its small, mean streak, although it was mean in a spank me way.  Shy and innocent yet long and balanced, the Ramonet became meaty in a cut, white fruit way (95). The next red was a Sinatra/Jimi Hendrix mix, per our host.  It was aromatic with dusty red fruits and raisins, per Sebastien.  There was great spice, along with tree bark and history.  It was very complex with its foresty personality, along with citrus, redcurrant and spice cabinet.  Its palate was shier than the expectations that the nose gave me, but it was still quite special.  It became richer and saucier with time, showing more chocolate and spice.  It was a rare 1952 Roumier Bonnes Mares (95). The last wine was a sweet and gamy 1971 Leroy Bonnes Mares, just how I like my 71s.  Its super nose was full of cranberry sauce fruit, with a kiss of Worcestershire.  There was great game to go with its bloody meat and high-pitched fruit, almost lingonberry.  The palate had great spice and tang and sweet, purple fruit.  Still fresh and lush, its soft finish caressed nicely (94). Lunch at a classic, old restaurant in the middle of Germany featured two excellent Rieslings, and a boatload of food.  The 2001 Schloss Lieser Niederberg Helden Riesling Auslese Goldkapsel was classic.  Thats just way too much to write for that wine; thats why you never see anyone writing up German wines!  They are getting better at their marketing, though, Ill leave that write-up to Justin.  It was an Auslese and on the sweet side but still clean and fresh, with minerals and apricots (93).  The 2002 Egon Muller Scharzhofberger Riesling Kabinett was even better, as it was drier, which is what I want.  Thats been one of my biggest problems with German wines; not knowing if a given bottle will be drier. Its changing as we speak, so perhaps Riesling will eventually be able to come out of Justins closet and take its rightful place next to Chardonnay as one of the two noble white grape varieties.  Back to the Egon, its safe to say that if there was one German producer to drink, most would choose Egon Muller, and this Kabinett showed why.  It was so clean and fresh, zipping along with citric vim, rainfall, light minerality and a delicious core that was refreshing and so drinkable.  It would probably be a Pekka 95, but really it was (94).  A 2001 Mugnier Chambolle-Musigny Les Amoureuses was Mugnier and Amoureuses at its finest, just stunning.  2001 is another vintage thats drinking oh so well at the moment, but I think they might last longer than people think and border on the best of other vintages for years to come.  Delicate with a perfect core of mixed red fruits and strong, clean wood qualities, the 01 went down way too easily.   I cant help mentioning every time I have an Amoureuses its true definition  two female lovers (95).  I almost forgot, we started and finished with the 1995 Billecart-Salmon Cuvee Nicolas Francois.  It was also drinking so well, full and flavorful with a toasty, wine-like nose.  It had a rich buttery palate and a stony finish.  I was impressed with this Billecart, as I was by an 86 last weekend (94). Dinner that night in the Mosel was the first time in my life where I sat down to dinner completely stuffed, that went for Sebastien, too.  This is where we started to unravel, our honeymoon going South by the second as we learned there were two options for dinner, the five-course and the eight.  Sebastien did what any Frenchman would do in this situation; he made sure we got the meal with the steak and foie gras lol.  We slowly pried open the gates to our stomachs through more Rieslings than I can remember.  There was one Riesling, however, that I will never forget, the 1959 JJ Prum Wehlener-Zeltinger Sonnenuhr Riesling Feine Auslese.  It was an extraordinary bottle of aged Rielsing.  I believe Feine is what they used to call the Goldkap, or best selection.  It somehow managed to be perfectly dry and sweet at the same time, both elements incredibly balanced around its mélange of peach, lychee, petrol and old wood aromas and flavors.  Old Ausleses tend to dry out a bit, in a good way, and can be magnificent.  J.J. Prum is the other name in Riesling where you just cant go wrong (96). It was off to Paris early the next day, where we had a civilized lunch, only two bottles amongst the four of us.  We went to Kei, a great, relatively new place for those that like to dine in Paris.  We started with the 2000 Sauzet Puligny Combettes, which delivered that clean and refreshing 2000 style with the force and intensity that a great bottle of Sauzet can have.  His wines deserve to be mentioned amongst the elite of Burgundy, but for some reason they seem to be a touch less regarded by the market (93).  We continued our trip through 2007 with a 2007 Rousseau Ruchottes Chambertin Clos des Ruchottes.  This was another delicious 07, delivering another delicious experience.  It was on the purple side of its fruit expression and managed to find a way to deliver the quality of Grand Cru with the approachability of Village (93). We went to a relatively old place for dinner, La Tour dArgent.  While the food there is good and not great, the wine list more than makes up for it.  We invited a Bordeaux-loving Parisian friend and his wife for dinner, eager to show him the heights that Burgundy can achieve.  A 1979 Krug warmed us up with its deep, foresty nose full of apple and caramel aromas.  There were some warm, mature edges to this big and bready Krug.  Its apple flavors showed well on its full-bodied and long palate, even though it felt like the 79 was finally starting to show some kinder and gentler sides.  There were nice citrus flavors on its finish (95). A 1989 Raveneau Chablis Valmur was a special wine, and it had us off to a good start in our quest to show some great Burgundy to our new friends.  Its nose was clean and full of waterfall, with a fresh, mossy and minerally personality, oyster shells indeed.  There were light lime and citrus flavors, but this full-bodied white was more about the minerals.  It was cut and long, elegant and still youthful, despite the fact that the acidity was just beginning to integrate.  This was delicious, clean and classic Chablis.  The anticipation of each next sip reminded me of heels clicking on the street around the corner (96).  The 1989 Coche-Dury Meursault Rougeots was a big contrast to the Raveneau.  Its fruit was wild and gamy, and its personality was Pussys sister, Toasty Galore.   There was tangy fruit and light spice rounding out the nose.  The palate was rich and lemony with gamey, exotic tropical fruit and a glaze of something in the Worcestershire direction.  The wine got simpler in the glass and squared up a bit, and the Raveneau kept smacking the Coche down every time it tried to get up.  The Mrs. of our guests, who declared that she would like to be known for Vintage Tastings articles as the Black Panther of Paris, noted smoked crust with ham in the Coche.  Meow (92). It was time for some red, and I selected the always outstanding 1993 Roumier Bonnes Mares; however, there was one problem.  The Roumier was the most shut down I have ever experienced.  The nose was much more closed than I ever remember.  There were bits of rust and spice, and a bit of earth, but all it was showing was back-sided qualities, and not much of those, at that.  Black licorice was observed, along with some rubber tire.  This is always a 96-point wine or better for me but was in a real shell on this night, and it wasnt the best Burgundy to talk a Bordeaux lover into trading places.  I gave it a generous (93), based somewhat on all the other previous great bottles. Some treasures from La Tour dArgent The 1980 Rousseau Chambertin was up for the challenge and showed off a sexy nose that was sweet, seductive and playful.  Aromas of red fruits, musk, game and vimful cedar danced openly in the glass.  There was tender strawberry fruit, and lovely kisses of leather.  It continued to get more complex in the glass, and out came aromas of shortbread, salt, citrus, mushrooms, truffles&it just kept unfolding and unfolding.  It delivered an outstanding and perfectly mature experience, causing the Black Panther to purr, incroyable (95). The closer was another favorite of mine, a 1990 Dujac Clos de la Roche, but again, I was left a little confused.  Milk and vegetables were the first things to come out in the nose, but deep fruit emerged, with shades of red, blue and purple.  There was no 90-itis here, as the fruit was also fresh on the palate, displaying nice citrus, along with some stalk and cigar.  It was elegant and reserved, and the cigar elements started to take over, blending into ashtray, forest and olive.  The wine was excellent; however, it is usually outstanding (94).  The next day in Paris saw lunch at Taillevent, which is always an occasion.  We sampled another beautiful Clos Ste. Hune, this time a 1993.  The 1993 Trimbach Riesling Clos Ste. Hune delivered body, fruit and finish, all in balance as always.  Enough rocket fuel was left to keep this wine in orbit for at least a few more years (93).  A 1996 Phelan-Segur charmed us into dessert.  It was soft, round and easy, a classic claret that was ready to go, yet will be for a while, too (90).  Dinner saw a couple of Chateauneufs, beginning with a 1998 Chateau de Beaucastel Chateauneuf du Pape.  The Beaucastel was gamy and overripe; I was a bit surprised how mature it was, and it was mature in a figgy and jammy way.  This was not what I remembered as far as 1998, are they overrated?  Then again, that can be said for every vintage of Chateauneuf nowadays (91).   A 2003 Chateau Rayas Chateauneuf du Pape was a bit better, showing signature Rayas strawberry from the high Grenache content.  There was a bit more structure here, although I havent had a great Rayas since Jacques passed away after vinifying the 1995 (93). It was off to Italy the next morning, where we had a top secret meeting with The Chairman that night.  We actually stopped off for lunch in Monte Carlo, what a special place.  What idiot came up with the idea of Paris in the am, Monte Carlo for lunch, then Milan for dinner?  It hurt to leave Monte Carlo; everyone needs to go at least once.  It was a brutal though breathtaking day of travel, and youre damn right I jumped into the Mediterranean after lunch.  I had to freshen up after all that Ott Rose. Beautiful Monte Carlo Valet anyone? The Chairman doesnt waste his time or his words, and we were honored by his company, even more so by the wines that he provided on this stellar evening.  Whenever 1996 Krug Clos du Mesnil is served, it is a great night.  It is one of the greatest Champagnes ever made, and it will be a benchmark for me for the rest of my life.  Its nose was deep, big and rich, with aromas of saucy butter, wood, vanilla cream, nuts, oil and yellow musky fruit.  The palate was huge yet balanced, with laser-like acidity and a tidal wave of a finish.  I summed up the Krug with strength and wealth, two of Americas favorite things (98+). The 2000 Laville Haut Brion was like sniffing glue with its fantastic nose of straw and spice&and glue, of course.  It was focused, very straight per The Chairman.  While Haut Brion Blanc might be more exuberant in general, the Laville is always seriously good.  Now, of course, it is the La Mission Haut Brion Blanc and five times as expensive.  Tip of the week: buy all the Lavilles you can.  There were great, yellow, sundried flavors, along with glue again.  It had fantastic length and balance, tasty to its core (95). One of the musts for The Chairman is DRC, and a bottle of 2002 DRC Romanee St. Vivant ensued.  There were aromas of forest, black fruits, cedar and moss, followed by wet earth, lit match, mushroom and a hint of dark chocolate.  The wine made me feel like I was gettin twiggy with it thanks to its stems, and wet cedar and bamboo lurked in the shadows.  Flavors of red rose, iron, cedar, earth and minerals were reticent in this wound wine.  It was tight yet showing well, with a fab finish and nice mountain qualities.  Its wintry edge thawed into a gorgeous, long wine (95). The Chairman then decided to close the evening in strong fashion with a 2004 DRC Romanee Conti.  I was expecting this wine to be closed and shut down, but I was shockingly surprised to find the exact opposite.  I couldnt believe how good and drinkable this wine was.  I guess thats why the price of it has gone up 50% over the past year or so; others must be actually drinking it, too.  The first aroma that came to mind was green bamboo.  It got meatier and purple rather quickly, with some green cedar emerging.  So good came up repeatedly in my notes, and the palate dripped black fruits. back to top VINTAGE TASTINGS - The Big One 7/26/2011 12:00:00 AM For most people, their 50th birthday is a significant milestone, a time to look back, forward and reflect all at once. When you are a wine lover and born in 1961, a 50th birthday can be even more significant, and it certainly was one summer evening in Los Angeles recently, when ‘The Rev’ held service for a small group of friends and fam in order to celebrate the first five decades of his life. The fact that he still looks less than forty is irrelevant; perhaps that all fish diet to which he has adhered has some benefits after all. At any given time, you may find The Rev, who happens to be an ordained minister, in Los Angeles, New York or London. On this evening, we found him in LA, and Mark, his given name here on Earth, decided to take us all on a wine journey of galactic proportions. He set the stage with some fun facts and trivia about his vintage – I think I got them all right. Being a music man, The Rev began with the fact that Bob Newhart had the album of the year. Other top hits included the ‘Theme from Exodus’ and ‘Theme from A Summer Place,’ and kids were dancing away to ‘The Pony.’ The Beatles first performed at the Cavern Club in Germany on February 9th, setting the stage for the music revolution that would follow. Top movies included ‘The Guns of Navarone,’ ‘101 Dalmatians,’ ‘The Hustler’ and ‘West Side Story.’ On the boob tube, the top shows were ‘Gunsmoke,’ ‘Perry Mason,’ ‘My Three Sons,’ ‘Mr. Ed,’ ‘Andy Griffith’ and ‘The Twilight Zone.’ Roger Maris was the story of the summer with his pursuit of 61 home runs. The Ken doll arrived to keep Barbie company, and other celebrities who joined the world in 1961 were Wayne Gretzky, George Clooney, Princess Diana, Barack Obama, Wynton Marsalis, Peter Jackson and most importantly, Scott Baio. JFK was president, and we sent Ham the Chimp into space, followed soon thereafter by the first American. The Berlin Wall was constructed the same year Six Flags was opened. The 23rd Amendment, Peace Corps and genetic code were also developments of the vintage, which happens to be the only year that reads the same when you turn it upside down. The trivia set the stage nicely for what would turn out to be a historic evening. We started auspiciously with an oxidized jeroboam of 1961 Bollinger RD (DQ). A few squirrely bottles came out early, but thankfully most everything else showed spectacularly, and as you are about to read, there was a boatload of wine in tow to follow. We quickly rectified things with a 1911 Moet, one of the greatest Champagnes I have ever had. This was the third time I have had it, and each time it soared to the heights of what old Champagne can achieve. The 1911 was a hand-blown bottle with no seams, someone observed. Of course, this was pre-Dom Perignon, so all that theoretical Dom was going into Moet at the time. It had a crazy nose of luscious honey and sex while frolicking in an open field. The palate was creamy, round, rich and tender while still possessing great length and a finish that was certainly youthful for its age. It lingered like a gorgeous summer sunset. A bite of sushi brought out some pronounced coconut flavors on its finish. This was like a great Montrachet, with outstanding acidity at age 100, and bubbles that were still game (98). A bottle of 1959 Dom Perignon proved to be no slouch with a fantastic nose of wheat and toasted sugar. It was deep and rich yet still quite fresh, as its long and spritzy palate attested. There were big, stony flavors to go with secondary aromas of oatmeal and great citrus on its finish (96). Bad Boy Bruce the Returner pulled a cat out of his hat with a late ‘60s/early ‘70s non-vintage bottling of Krug Private Cuvee. There were probably some pretty great vintages blended in here as a base accordingly, he reasoned, since the 1960s was an incredible decade for Champagne. There was great vanilla spice to the nose and lots of jasmine. Bruce gave it an ‘unfuckingbelievable,’ and its palate was rich, long and zippy, still high in acid. Hollywood Jef found it ‘the lightest and youngest’ of the flight, although Alexander the Great didn’t like it as much, finding it ‘too lemony.’ It rounded out nicely in the glass (95). A 1961 Taittinger Comtes de Champagne had a noticeably darker color and a sweet, butterscotchy nose. Its musky, golden qualities carried over to its lush palate. Someone called it the ‘kinkiest,’ and ‘definitely caramel’ also came from the crowd. The palate was a touch advanced, but it didn’t bother me (93A). A flight of ‘white lightning’ was next, beginning with a 1959 Bouchard Montrachet. The Bouchard had a deep, fresh nose that emitted mature hay and golden fruit aromas, with a pinch of aggressive, dirty barn. It became very smoky, which continued on its big, rich palate, along with butter and honey flavors. Alexander the Great found it ‘very popcorny,’ while The Rev settled on ‘stunning,’ then observing ‘bacon and corn in the ’59,’ which were there big time. The Rev was heating up on his pulpit, finally picking up on some ‘cotton candy’ (95). The 1966 Bouchard Montrachet was badly corked in the nose, although the palate not nearly as so. I don’t think I’ve ever had a tale of two wines in the nose and palate like this one. The palate was still a touch muted, and corn came out in this medium-bodied and not so full Monty. It got smoky and had a pleasant finish, and despite its horridly corked nose, it got a lot of kudos for its ‘not bad’ palate (93A). A 1973 DRC Montrachet had a fabulous nose. It was clean yet powerful with a deep mélange of apple and citrus fruit. There was a great spice to it, and a very special floral edge along with nice smoke. The palate was quite high-strung with outstanding pitch and a gorgeous, smokehouse finish. Hollywood Jef was a little less impressed at first, finding it ‘slightly disjointed,’ but he later found it to ‘come together.’ Even at last sip, the acidity was superb; the wine stayed knit to the very end (96). A pair of Ramonets ended our obligatory white flight, starting with a 1983 Ramonet Montrachet. The ’83 was very exotic with sweet tangerine and freshly cut grass aromas. It had a smooth and satiny palate with bright citrus and supporting mesquite and earth flavors. It lingered gently but felt like 2D Montrachet; maybe it was just the bottle, or maybe it’s time to drink up those ‘83s (93). The 1985 Ramonet Montrachet was also a bit wild ‘n crazy with a much gamier nose, with lots of honey and a fruit profile bordering on guava. ‘Passionfruit,’ ‘Hi-C peach puree’ and ‘papaya’ came from the crowd, which are not typical for this wine. There were warm fireplace aromas in this underwhelming Montrachet, although I was surprised to find that it was the second favorite wine of the flight (91A?). We had been teased long enough and were now ready for some 1961s. The 1961 Latour set a high bar immediately. Its nose had great, deep cassis and black fruits, along with smoke, walnut and layers of complexity. The aromas were so intense that it gave off a cocaine-like intensity. White smoke and red cherry fruit flashed through after time in the glass. The palate was big and still tight, incredibly youthful and long. Its structure consisted of columns, pillars and bridges; now that is what I call infrastructure. Jef was also in awe of its viscosity and structure. This was one of those incredible bottles, which is why one notable critic has hailed it as the greatest wine ever made (98). The 1961 Mouton Rothschild that followed was outstanding but also out-shadowed. Its nose was chunky and chocolaty, much more forward than the Latour. The palate was lush, long, smooth and elegant. ‘I love the softness of the Mouton,’ The Rev told us, continuing how it ‘coats’ and was ‘velvety’ (95). A 1961 Palmer held its own amongst those First Growth bullies, providing a solid foundation in its intense nose of cassis and garden. There was also this taut and unique glue-like edge to it. The richness of its fruit in the mouth was special. Indeed, it seemed to be a step up from the Mouton, and Bruce let us know he was definitely in the Palmer camp. Its lush, gamy palate delivered pure pleasure (96). Dueling Brions were next, led off by 1961 La Mission Haut Brion. This was a classic bottle of La Miss, gravel meeting chocolate in perfect harmony. There were also secondary aromas of smoke, black cherry and cassis. Its big palate sparkled with acidity, and the bottle tasted insanely good, adding wafer and charcoal to its thick, tannic flnish. There are bottles of this wine that end up too gravelly for my taste, but this wasn’t one of them. This was as good as it gets (98). We noticed the 1961 Haut Brion was from the cellar of Wolfgang Grunewald, so we knew we were in for a treat, even though all the ‘61s so far were fantastic. Wolf sends his regards to all from beautiful Mallorca, by the way. July means JK is in Europe, but we’ll get to that article in a couple weeks, hopefully…it’s a big one. Sorry to digress, back to the bottle of 1961 HB! There was more black cherry here to go with gravel and charcoal underneath, which both seemed buried in its regal earth components. The palate was more chocolaty and open, not as smoky or gravelly as the La Miss. The HB was smooth and sexy, maintaining its intensity in an elegant way, but the power of the La Miss stole this outstanding bottle of Haut Brion’s show somewhat (96). Dueling 1961 Pomerols were next, or as Mark put it. “Damn. Just Damn. Ok, DAMN!” The 1961 L’Evangile was a wow wine from the very first sniff. This was pure Pomerol heaven with its chocolate and plum bliss. Alexander the Great cooed, ‘Now that’s a wine,’ in her unique way that made me want to insert my own orgasm. This was a bouquet of fine flowers, and even though there was a mineral and iron component as well, the flowers dominated. Its fruit was rich yet slaty on the palate, and the finish had a positive bitters edge. Its overly slaty quality on the palate was the only thing holding the wine back from that ‘great wine of my life category,’ aka 97 points and up (96). A stunning bottle of 1961 Latour a Pomerol was a little corked, bummer. Underneath, the wine was fighting to get to the surface. You could see the kinky, overripe style there, masked by the cork. The wine was all it should have been in the mouth; this was Amarone city. It was so gamy and lush, with staggering concentration to the point where the proverbial motor oil came to mind. Despite the slightly corked edge in the nose, this was an immensely enjoyable bottle that came across amazingly unique, as legend has always had it (97A). Our magical trip through 1961 Bordeaux came to a close, but the 1961s continued, beginning with a 1961 Giacomo Conterno Barolo Riserva Monfortino. Its incredible nose made the change of pace more welcome, although Frank didn’t like it that much. I found the mélange of leather, rose, tar and earth quite intoxicating; its spice was great as was its character. The palate had extreme acidity and delicious flavors of tobacco, black rose, earth and hints of citrus. The wine finished with great smack, and Bruce also found it equally fabulous, a word which ended up in my notes twice (97). The 1961 Vega Sicilia Unico was excellent, but no match for the Monfortino. ‘Porty and brown sugar’ came from The Rev. Its nose was rich, saucy and hedonistic, with that sweet and chunky ‘rump a dump style,’ I wrote. Too bad I have no clue what I meant :). Its palate was oily, and its finish left a dusty impression, as if a motorcycle just left me behind on some dirt road. Brothy and raisiny, it reminded me of other old, decadent Vegas like the ’53 and ’59. In the end, it reminded me more of Madeira than Port, but not in a cooked or bad way (94). A magnum of 1961 Moet RD freshened our palates, although it came out a bit cold. ‘Kefir’ and ‘buttermilk’ came from the crowd, as did ‘pretty.’ It was fresh and grassy with a clean finish. Alexander the Great loved its vivacious and fresh style (92M). Bruce whipped out another mystery bubbly, this time a rare 1947 Pol Roger Disgorged in 1981 for the Royal Wedding of Charles and Diana. Man, that’s a long wine name. Bruce relished in the guesses of DP and Krug before revealing the pleasant surprise. Someone hailed it as Champagne of the night. It was practically perfect with its clean bed of white fruits. Fresh and delicious, this was a wow Champagne (97). Brother, can you spare some Burgundy? Yes, it was time for ‘the other red treat.’ A 1962 Vogue Bonnes Mares was gamy city, very forward and saucy, full of gamy red fruits. The fruit was rather concentrated, saucy and tomato in flavor as well. It was rich but had a kink to its flavor that held it back, this stewed element that led me to believe this bottle was a bit cooked and affected, although still appreciable (93A). This was the third time I have had the 1955 Leroy Chambertin this year (I know, I need to write more). They all have been fairly consistent. The nose had lots of green fruit and garden, while the palate was of the beefy and red cherry varieties. Big and full, like typical Leroy, there was excellent acidity here, and this ’55 felt like it needed even more time to develop. Purple and black joined the fruit party in this long and beefy red (95+). An obscure 1928 Chevillot La Tache had some awkward aromas at first, which was perhaps the glass and not the wine. It was a soft and tender wine, friendly and fun in fine negociant fashion. ‘Raspberry’ and ‘kooky’ came from The Rev, and its red fruit and rose flavors danced just enough to keep me interested (92). The 1943 DRC La Tache was a brothy and ‘smacking’ nose, as in the aromatic equivalent of lip-smacking. It was very aromatic and had that Monfortino tea-like edge and spice, along with some cloves and glue. The palate was delicious with tasty flavors of tea, broth, game, autumn and rose. Despite getting up there in years, it was still fleshy and dense (95). On to flight number eight, eight I tell you! It is getting increasingly rare to find DRC’s from 1971, my beloved birth year, but especially rare out of magnum. Furthermore, it is quite rare to see magnums of DRC even opened nowadays, but The Rev made us all kneel before him and his two magnums of DRC, La Tache and Romanee Conti. Somehow, I had the RC first. Shit happens. The 1971 DRC Romanee Conti oozed ‘liquid cherry’ per The Rev, along with deep rose and citrus in its expressive yet reticent nose. There was enough citric tension in here for every Burgundy of the night, and an exotic edge developed to the fruit as time in the glass wore on, along with some secondary cola. It was so smoky and so deep; this was a wine over which philosophers could truly ponder. Its wound-up yet seductive palate had rich, deep and gamy flavors, along with cola, rose and a hint of tomato. This was still young, to the point where I started to regret drinking it at this ‘early’ stage of its development in magnum. Naaaaahhhhhhhhh :) (97M). The 1971 DRC La Tache had a nose similar to its big brother, although this particular magnum was a bit dirtier and more earthy. Mounds also abounded, as in chocolate and a hint of exotic coconut. The palate was creamy and fleshy, yet softer and a bit dirty as well. There were nice rose flavors, but this magnum was more tender than expected. I have had many more thrilling experiences with this wine, but that’s the way the game sometimes plays out. It was still special, but this wine routinely hit 97-98 points for me over the last decade, so I chalked this one up to bottle variation (94M). Five more La Taches proceeded to demand our attention, beginning with a great bottle of 1978 DRC La Tache. Its vim and vigor jumped out of the glass compared to the tenderness of the 1971. This had that signature spicy menthol and great intensity, balanced by rose hips and Vitamin C aromas. The palate was lush and more gamy than the nose with some bouillon flavors, something I typically find in 1978 DRC. Its finish was long and decadent, leaving lingering flavors of beef, citrus, wet earth and bacon (96). The 1985 DRC La Tache that followed was a disappointing bottle that came across a bit dirty. Like Amsterdam at 3am dirty. A few scattered notes included tender, sensitive, earthy and decent acidity. I do think this vintage of La Tache can be great, so this was just a random off bottle (92A). The 1991 DRC La Tache signaled a brave, new world with its youthful nose. There was deep, rich red fruit, along with milk, citrus and vitamin aromas. Its palate was thick, stalky and stemmy, still fresh and still young (95). The 1995 DRC La Tache had some similarities to the ’91, with a more wound personality. Aromas of iron, citrus and leather were more dominant in this thick and slightly square LT. It was still serious, although quite tight and rustic. Jef found its peppery spice ‘overbearing’ (94). Last and never least was a 1999 DRC La Tache, which was clearly the best in our flight of the last three. Its nose was so deep; it felt like I could literally dive into its aromas. There was an oceanic feel to the breadth of its violet fruit. That plush 1999 signature fruit was everywhere. Sweet caramel and nut were balanced by smoke in this behemoth of a nose. The finish was so thick, I had to undo and work the wine back out of my mouth after each sip. It is rare that a wine this young makes me do cartwheels and handstands, but the ’99 LT is that great, especially for such a young wine. Stem and stalk flavors added zip and vim to the fantastic fruit. So long, so strong and so balanced, the 1999 DRC La Tache is an anywhere, anytime wine that has never delivered anything but an extraordinary experience (99). There was time for a final toast, and we had it with a spectacular bottle of 1971 Salon. It had a fantastic nose full of white fruits. ‘Champagne of the night?’ again was asked. It was stony, nutty, zippy and meaty with wonderful citrus flavors and a rich, long finish. It was refreshing like an ice cold glass of 7up on a hot summer day, AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAA. I just had to say that :) (97). There were more wines waiting in the wings, but most of us threw in the towel at this point. It was a legendary evening fit for a king, I mean a rev. We had all been humbled and reminded of our sins, but thankfully The Rev is a forgiving one, so we all repented before leaving, each promising him, “I will drink more wine.” FIN JK back to top VINTAGE TASTINGS - A Decade Plus of Lafite, Starting with '01...1901 6/5/2011 12:00:00 AM “No man also having drunk old wine straightaway desireth new: for he saith, ‘The old is better.’” – Luke 5:39 When it comes to wine, there are great wines, and there are truly great wines. What makes a wine truly great is its ability to age, and I am not talking ten to fifteen years, I am talking fifty to one hundred plus. It seems as if the market’s attention starts to wane pre-1982, which affords those that know the greatness of older wines an even greater luxury than the gift of knowledge they already have. True, there is always more risk with old wines, a bottle might be cooked, or past the ideal drinking window, but the risk is clearly outweighed by the reward. Even if there is a ten to fifteen percent chance of risk for any given forty-plus year-old bottle one might open, the price of the older wines relative to younger wines today is sometimes laughable, and more than makes up for that risk. Would you rather have a 1959 Lafite for $3000 a bottle, or a 1982 for $6000? How about a 1966 La Tache for about $1500, or a 2008 for the same price? And every bottle doesn’t have to be four figures either. I have had so many great obscure Burgundies from the 1960s and prior for $200 or $300 a bottle that just sing. Good luck finding a top 2009 for that price. For those that have the passion, and have no fear, old wine, pre-1982, is the greatest buying opportunity in the market today, and I gladly put my money where my mouth is on what might be considered a scaringly regular basis. It’s also the greatest drinking opportunity, and I am a drinker, occasionally even a drunk :). If there is anyone who drinks more old wine than me on a yearly basis, then I need to meet you, and we need to drink together. Maybe Pekka and Juha up in Helsinki, they certainly are as experienced as anyone in the world right now. We now convene on a regular basis. King Angry and Big Boy have to be part of the conversation, for sure, along with the artist formerly known as Dr. Vino, Dr. Wilf Jaeger. It’s no surprise that these are the guys with which I drink on a regular basis. Allen Meadows definitely drinks his share of great old wines, but only Burgundies. I’ll never forget an incredible night with Allen at Cru, where we sampled a perfect 1934 Romanee Conti (third greatest wine of my life) amongst many other spectacular Burgs, then at the end of the night, we started to play around with some other regions, you know, like 1966 La Mouline, 1945 Mouton, etc. So the Mouton comes out, and this was an incredible bottle, one of the best I have ever had, 98 or 99 point territory, everything you could absolutely want in a great, old Bordeaux and then some. So I go to Allen, a bit cock-eyed and cocky accordingly, grinning ear to ear. Here was a Bordeaux that even Allen could not deny. ‘So Allen, what’d you give the ’45 Mouton?’ Allen replied without hesitation, ’88 points.’ Doh! But I digress… My most recent trip to Hong Kong saw an incredible lineup of events, featuring the wines and proprietors from three world-class estates – Chateau Valandraud, Dominio de Pingus and Domaine Comte Liger-Belair. There was also a pre-auction tasting with three dozen incredible wines, a fun mature German lunch that we’ll let Justin write up one of these years, and another very special lunch, featuring seven vintages of ancient, pre-World War I Lafite Rothschild with bulletproof provenance, and bottles in incredible condition accordingly. Later that week, we also opened up our usual palate-numbing quantity of bottles at the auction, including a delicious Imperial of 2007 Lafite, as well as fantastic bottles of 1964 and 1966 Petrus. There was also a very special, private dinner after the auction that featured 27 wines so great that the 1929 Haut Brion at the end was almost an afterthought, and a Sunday lunch that I still don’t know how I managed to attend. Oh yes, I do, the magnum of 1985 La Tache. But I digress again… This article is about Lafite, and the lunch on the Thursday before the auction at Gold, one of Hong Kong’s hottest new restaurants. The bottles were courtesy of the sale’s featured collector, who wasn’t even selling anything pre-1982. That wasn’t the point; the point was to drink, to share, to experience, and what an experience it was. We began with a couple of aperitifs, a magnum of 1969 Krug Collection and a bottle of 1992 Coche-Dury Meursault Rougeots. The Krug had a bit of a low fill but was still delicious. While not as spritely as it could have been, it still had signature aromas and flavors of vanilla, butter and corn, and there were no complaints. Other bottles have been better, though (94A). The Coche was absolutely delicious, on a peaking plateau of maturity, a 1992 that hasn’t started skiing downhill just yet. It was a bit wet around the edges with some waterfall and wet alley, but its sweet white fruit and kinky Coche style were still held together nicely by warm acidity (93). We sat down to a warmup wine, the 2006 Lafite Rothschild. Unlike the delicious 2007 that we had two days later from Imperial, 94 points by the way, the 2006 was completely shut down. There were pleasant pencil and mineral aromas and nice, reticent fruit in its nose, cassis, of course. The palate was very ‘stiff,’ as one put it, quite dry with little definition. Its acidity was buried alive, practically impossible to even identify. It was quite polished, but too much so, and it just lacked character on the palate, at this point. It caused someone to quip, ‘Young Bordeaux is for business, young Burgundy is for pleasure’ (90+?). Warm-ups were over, and it was time for the main event. The 1901 Lafite Rothschild had everyone breathing a sigh of relief, as it was obvious we were in great shape, and the bottles had traveled well. The 1901 had a wow nose, full of mature, warm fruit. Michael keenly noted, ‘Spanish ham and honey.’ There was this ice cream sweetness to the nose, closest to black cherry, along with a brick-like, layered complexity. Right on cue, Lei observed that its nose kept ‘coming in layers,’ and it did, now developing a light forest and earth component, along with some cedar. Vincent, aka The Poet, admired that there was ‘still very good length.’ The palate was full of tender cedar flavors, in a fine antique way. There were touches of citrus and light candle wax in the mouth, which was absolutely delicious. Lei cooed how it was ‘so perfumed,’ and noted its ‘blossoms and floral beauty were so delicate yet complex.’ Michael hailed it as ‘kaleidoscopic,’ and everyone was left impressed and in awe of this 110 year-old treasure (96). The 1904 Lafite Rothschild had a tough act to follow, but it was up to the challenge. Lei quickly observed, ‘like a fine cheese,’ and her son added, ‘Epoisses.’ Indeed, it was! It is always great to taste with experienced collectors who can share their observations and verbalize them effectively. Its nose was nutty and creamy, and a little bit of chocolate started to emerge. The palate, however, was a touch dirtier with earthier flavors, along with wafer and band-aid on the finish. Heinrich observed, ‘a little medicine,’ while Vincent found it ‘leathery.’ It was still a very good Lafite, but no 1901 (92). The 1905 Lafite Rothschild had ‘dragoneye’ in its nose, and The Poet wasn’t talking about the famous Hong Kong nightclub! Its fruit was dried and sweet, Michael called it ‘long yan,’ which translates to longan fruit, although I still don’t know what that is, lol. There is still much I have to learn! The nose on the ’05 was milder than the previous two wines, and it has this lightly sautéed beef undertone. The palate was also lighter, but delightfully so. It was soft, tender and easy, caressing my palate like a good, bedtime story. It was a tad slaty on its finish at first, but that mellowed as it fruit became citrusy, and it picked up in the glass a little bit, flexing one last time before saying goodbye to all (93). The 1907 Lafite Rothschild had great aromas, full of red colors – currant, licorice and fresh fruit, almost like a red melon, but not watermelon. It had the signature vanilla and cedar, ‘the terroir of Lafite,’ as The Poet sagely said. ‘When they get old, you see the terroir,’ he continued. The 1907 had the richest nose so far, with exotic, sweet fruit that moved in a mango direction but not quite that. Its palate charmed at first with delectable flesh, richness and cherry flavors, also possessing a wafery finish. Michael hailed it as ‘the most complete,’ but it lightened in the glass just a touch, though, making it a fast and furious Lafite, but still an outstanding one (95). The 1908 Lafite Rothschild had ‘old worn leather saddle, and a slight smokiness’ in its nose per Gil, who echoed Vincent’s sentiments about terroir in Bordeaux, even though he missed the original comment. Some conversations about Syrah and Alicante Bouschet in Bordeaux pre-1933 crept into the conversation, as there were some questions if there were any additional, non-traditional grapes here in general, per the times. The signature vanilla cream of Lafite oozed out onto its buttery palate in this delicious wine. The 1908 was brighter and held better than the 1907, and while Lei acknowledged the acidity of the 2008 was better, she still preferred the 1907 (95+). We had another great nose in the 1909 Lafite Rothschild, this time more on the cigar side, lightly so. Heinrich observed a ‘smoky, Lagavulin nose,’ and it became nutty with a little air. The palate was much lighter in style, with flavors of raw vegetable, or ‘crudite,’ as one concurred. It was a fragile Lafite, but still in the quality zone, just hanging on (90). We closed with the 1914 Lafite Rothschild. Finally, something less than 100 years old :)! The 1914 was a ringer for an old Burgundy; in fact, if this was served to me blind, I am fairly certain I would have guessed Burgundy. It had a tea-like color, orange at its rim. Gil found it ‘1923 La Tache-like,’ high praise, indeed. The nose was a bit stinky, lightly grassy with a pungent core. The palate was tangy and a bit simple after so many other great wines. It was the least exciting to me, although many liked its exotic, wild and woolly style more than me (88). It was a magnificent afternoon, one we call a ‘proper business lunch’ in HK. FIN JK back to top VINTAGE TASTINGS - Spontaneous Combustion 5/8/2011 12:00:00 AM 4x2=8. And on 4/28, some of New York’s finest collectors gathered at Marea for an evening of fine Bordeaux. I know that everyone in the world thinks that only the Chinese drink Bordeaux, but there are still a few Americans that appreciate a good claret, especially the older stuff. While China’s attention tends to drift away pre-1982, that’s where America’s deepest cellars start to focus. There was also Champagne. I don’t think there is a proper meal that can go without it. We started with a 1976 Krug. Its nose was wafery with a light brulee glaze along with and nice wheat and a light toast. The palate was leaner than expected, possessing light cola and ginger ale flavors. Of course, any reference to New York’s finest collectors without a reference to Big Boy would constitute an incomplete grade, and he commented how 1976 isn’t even close to 1979 despite a few high profile wines having similar ratings. Its vanilla components came out with some foccacia, but it was merely very good, and excellence is usually the minimum that Krug will tolerate (92). The 1988 Krug Clos du Mesnil, however, was up to the usual standards and delivered a profound experience. Its nose was obviously bigger, possessing great breed. I loved its toasty bread and nut aromas, both of which were soaked in oil. Its butter came out, and its palate was great. It was full and long, yet still balanced and deft, a whopper with just the right amount of cheese (96). The very first vintage of Cristal Rose was next. For those of you that know what year that is, you would only know if you knew Big Boy, and the story about how he got the six bottles for twenty times the highest price ever. It’s a true story lol. The 1974 Cristal Rose had a dirty nose with earthy, dark chocolate aromas. Lady Agah noted, ‘strawberries and cream, soaked in liqueur.’ There was almost this dash of Chambord in it. The palate was big and rugged, also dirty, still with vim but also with some caterpillar boots and fur, too. Lady Agah’s early infantuation was soon over, and she observed ‘not much of a finish.’ Given the vintage, it was impressive, but it remained dirty from beginning to end. Sorry Rob, but it wasn’t worth $5k a bottle lol (91). The 1926 Dom Perignon, however, was worth $5k and then some. It had a honeycomb nose, along with cream, light toast, vanilla sugar and ‘petrol’ per Gentleman Jim, ‘like an old Alsatian Riesling.’ It was also Montrachet-like and Wendy found ‘honeysuckle,’ while another found ‘honey’ as well. The palate took it up another notch with its rich and thick personality. It was lush, long and honeyed, dry yet creamy with caramel flavors. There was excellent viscosity in a wine-like way, with just a light touch of spritz to remind everyone that it was still Champagne. It was outstanding stuff, and clearly the Champagne to drink and finish first (96). It was time for Bordeaux, and what better way to start that off than with a 1948 Cheval Blanc. The 1948 has outshone the 1947 on more than one occasion, although the 1947 still remains one of my personal all-time highlights. The problem is, that was 1999, New Year’s Eve to be precise. It has never been as good, while the 1948 has delivered at least three times that I can remember over the last ten years that were stupendous. Lady Agah found it ‘smoky and smokin’’ right away, like ‘barbecue potato chips.’ It was, most like Lays in particular lol. There was a rich, meaty style to the nose, and mint and menthol soon joined the party. The palate was rich and saucy, with a touch of slate and band-aid holding it back. There were grainy flavors and that signature old Cheval motor oil of the era. ‘Incense and game’ were also noted in this complex wine. It wasn’t the best bottle of this wine that I have ever had, but it was still outstanding (95). The Cheval would be the only St. Emilion for the evening. In fact, the rest of the night would be all Pomerol. A 1950 Trotanoy brought by Jim and Wendy proved to be one of the wines of the night. It was a spectacular Nicolas bottle, and everything it should have been. It had a deep, incredible nose with aromas of plum, chocolate and white smoke. Its palate was classic; it was rich yet mature with flavors of cassis and plum. ‘Classic Nicolas, pure,’ remarked Rob. Everyone purred for this near-purrfect Pomerol (97). The Pomerol procession pushed onwards with a 1953 Latour a Pomerol. This was much more ceramic in its nose, with a heavy mesquite edge. It had a much lighter nose than the Trotanoy but was still classic in its own way, and more reflective of its vintage. Clean and light in the mouth as well, the L a P had secondary cinnamon flavors; otherwise, the palate followed the nose’s lead (93). A 1955 Vieux Chateau Certan was exotic and kinky with loads of sweet fruit. It was almost tropical, I wanted to say apricot and mango. It was like there was a shot of Yquem in this overripe red. The palate was lush and creamy, with hints of orange rind on its finish. It was tasty and friendly, perhaps not a perfect bottle, but a fun one (93). The next flight was a Lafleur family feud. The first was the 1964 Lafleur, which had a fabulous nose, a veritable fruit symphony of black, purple and even red, certainly black cherry. Its nose was so seductive; it was like a kiss, cream and raspberry beret all in one, performed by Prince, of course. The palate was round and pretty, but a step back from the nose. It was long with a nice frame, and it had more concentration and chocolate flavors than its younger sibling that followed (94). The 1966 Lafleur had a sweet core in its nose, bordered by slate. It felt lighter in the nose, and it was. It palate was pleasant and long, with a bit of dust and zip to its finish. It was a grainier Lafleur, still holding onto its excellent status, but perhaps not for long (93). We had a palate cleansing, mini-flight of two Champagnes, both from 1929. The 1929 Heidseick Dry Monopole was ‘honeyed city’ in the nose. Its round, apply personality was mature, and its caramel on a stick most definitely got my attention. The palate didn’t have any more bubbles, but it was rich, round and lush, quite wine-like and ‘heaven’ per one of its sippers. The wine was delicious, rich and delicious (95). The 1929 Louis Roederer should have been the better bubbly, but this bottle was ‘not as crisp’ although it was still creamy and oily, just not as great or a great bottle. It had a yeasty finish but was clearly affected (92A). We still had four wines to go, and all of them were from either 1989 or 1990. Since they were Pomerols, my money was on the 1989s. I have had 1989 Petrus versus 1990 Petrus on six or eight occasions, and the 1989 has always won. Now that’s not to take away from the 1990, which is certainly a great wine. It’s just not the 1989. As Big Boy summed up, ‘In 100 years, the 1989 Petrus will be one of the five greatest wines ever made. It’s flawless, their greatest since 1961 by a longshot.’ He then proceeded to tell another great story, which I think made the evening score Big Boy 5, Rest of Us 0. JG quipped, ‘Remind me to tell my story first next time!’ I guess this is about the worst intro one can have for a 1990 Petrus, but we did taste that first, against a 1990 Lafleur, which I’ll get to in a moment. The ’90 had a big nose, bigger than I last remember it, with a lot of pop to it, and some smoke and kernel to go along with it. The wine was absolutely delicious, the essence of Petrus and the best 1990 of this that I have ever had. Chocolaty and chunky, it had character from start to finish. Thick as a brick (96+). The 1990 Lafleur was another bottle that showed better than any others I have ever had. It was much tighter and had a lot more character than previous bottles. I have always found this to be a bit of a floozy of a Lafleur; now don’t get me wrong, there is always a time and a place for a floozy, just not every night lol. This wine was snapping back at me, in a good way, and its palate was wound yet minty and spicy. It was thick, long and sweaty, with great earth, slate and chocolate flavors developing. Its finish lingered, and its peacock showed me its tail (96). The 1989 Lafleur was unfortunately an off bottle, and at this point in the evening, that was too much to overcome to even attempt to salvage a decent note for it (DQ). The 1989 Petrus didn’t need much written about it, since it was consistent with every other time, still a cut above the rest. ‘All hail the King’ sufficed for my notes. If anyone was wondering what the two best brands are in the entire world of wine, Petrus is one of them, and DRC is the other (99). The most amazing thing about this evening was that the lineup of wines came together that morning, which is what we call ‘Spontaneous Combustion.’ FIN JK back to top VINTAGE TASTINGS - Mondays, Tuesdays 5/1/2011 12:00:00 AM The early part of the week is always its hardest part, so wine is definitely in order on Mondays and Tuesdays. Make that all days come to think of it. A recent Monday saw Hong Kong’s Good Doctor slip in and out of the New York night around dinner, leaving a trail of empty bottles behind him. Lady Agah and Alexander the Great joined us for a most enjoyable evening. The company of the Good Doctor is always enjoyable, as he has a taste for the finer things, and is a master of not only wine, but also food. He is always atop my Hong Kong list of people to see, as I know a special meal will surely follow. Since it was Monday, and he was amidst a world tour of travel, we kept it light with only four bottles for the four of us, beginning with a 1990 Cristal. Well, it was Lady Agah who selected the ’90, as I was a few minutes late, and she waits for no man. I quickly caught up with the ’90, enjoying its butterscotchy, hedonistic style. It was delicious and sexy, flirting with sweet but keeping it dry. It was rich and long, still young but showing secondary flavors. It has always been a fun and outgoing Cristal, from a vintage that will last (96). The 2001 Ramonet Montrachet that followed was a solid successor, as it, too, had a buttery style that flirted with sweetness. There was a touch of botrytis in this rich wine. It was fat and long, missing a touch of its centerpoint at this stage; its acidity wasn’t quite bridging the gap between its fruit and finish. The fatness of the wine perhaps detracted from its acidity a bit, but at age ten I don’t think the wine should be shutting down, not in 2001 at least. Nonetheless it was an excellent Ramonet, and one that I wouldn’t worry about drinking up soon (94). The 1993 Roumier Chambolle Musigny Les Amoureuses was spectacular. Roumier really hit the 1993 nail on the head. His wines capture the essence and greatness of the vintage better than anyone else, although Rousseau and Mugnier might have a thing or two to say about it. Ok, Leroy too, but in a different language. This wine possessed all the great qualities of Roumier, the vintage and the vineyard. It was silky and feminine yet robust in character, with a mineral and earth foundation that said ‘build here.’ It had a fine line that ran right through it, keeping the wine balanced, but it was still so taut. It felt young but wise, its black and red fruits hinting at what will still come for many years. It was fabulous (96+). We finished with a 1996 Krug. Lady Agah was ready to perform after dinner, so we revved it up a notch with a closing act fit for a nightcap. The Krug was, as usual, stellar but young. It had enough acid for the entire restaurant, and it had enough rocket fuel to last for decades. Do not disturb until 2025 (96). It had been a long day for the Good Doctor, who bid us farewell with incredibly wise words that were befittingly very Chinese, ‘The days are long, but the years are short.’ The day after was another long day, especially the morning part of it, and I saw another good friend slip in and out of New York, this time being Hollywood Jef, in town for the Tribeca Film Festival. The Hedonist celebrated Jef’s arrival with a dinner at Adour, where more wine was, of course, both in and on order. We picked up right where I left off the night before, this time with a 1989 Krug Clos du Mesnil. The nose was deep, rich and brothy, with great vanilla and light citrus aromas. There were exotic floral qualities and a bold personality from what is the greatest vineyard known to Champagne. The flavors were big to match, and there were lots of wheat flavors with a splash of rust. There was deep acidity to this brooding bubbly, and its long, thick finish oozed all over my palate. It got deeper and better with warm, yellow flavors shining in due time (96+). A 1992 Drouhin Montrachet Marquis de Laguiche had a sweet, gamy nose. Tropical aromas of rainwater, sweet musk and even a hint of pineapple let their presence be known rather quickly. 1992s can be a bit sweet, and while I think many wines from this vintage are already sunsetting, that was not the case here. The palate had mildly sweet caramel flavors and hints of stalk and butter. That tropical sweetness stuck around the palate and didn’t cross the line. This was a great 1992 (95). Hollywood Jef plucked something off the list and had a little fun, serving it to us blind. It was definitely old Bordeaux, and the Hedonist noted that it was ‘a little volatile.’ Once past that, there were aromas of peanut, carob, caramel and cassis. It had a dirty edge to it, and its peanut qualities soon went Bangkok Thai on me. It was gravelly and smoky, which led us to guess Graves. I was able to get the vintage down to ’59 or ’61, and it was a 1961 Pape Clement. I reveled in my logic and methodology for a moment, and went back to the wine and found it getting better in the glass. This was a delicious wine, much better than I remembered when I did a comprehensive Pape Clement vertical many years ago (94). Two Burgundy bombs were lofted in from Jef, spectacular examples of Chambertin that made it a night truly to remember. Generous people who share their best bottles are people that easily become the best of friends. The first Burgundy was a 1962 Rousseau Chambertin Clos de Beze. Having had a spectacular bottle of this within the last two months, I was well prepared to reevaluate it. This bottle was equally as spectacular, sporting an incredible nose of game, smoke and red fruits. There was a richness to the nose without a heaviness, and great spice, rust and citrus kissed erotically around its bed of fruit. The palate was also rich, but still elegant, luscious and in the right spot and the right time, as the top 1962s are, although some say the vintage’s best days are starting to be behind it. Not tonight! There was a kick of kernel on the end, and its red fruits slowly turned to autumn in the glass. It never lost its citric tension, and secondary flavors of garden and smoke continued to unfold (97). The last wine on this memorable evening was a 1955 Leroy Chambertin, which wasn’t about to back down from the benchmark laid down before it. The Leroy was even more kinky, with black and brown fruits emerging first and foremost. The palate was sexy and fleshy, with chocolate tootsie pop flavors but solid earth and iodine to keep it balanced. The wine kept climbing the point ladder with time in the glass, becoming more meaty and a good dirty. Its acid really came out and asserted itself, its t ‘n a popping out of its glass. ‘It has cleavage,’ the Hedonist chuckled, to which Hollywood Jef left us with some West Coast wisdom, ‘Everything is about getting laid’ (96). The following week was more about Wednesday and Thursday with a complete Masseto vertical and a spectacular Bordeaux night at Marea, Saturday was La Tache with the Burghound, it was a busy week. I’m still unbelievably backed up this year already. Perhaps we’ll keep La Paulee interrupted for a bit. These past couple of weeks were definitely what we call ‘practice what you preach.’ FIN JK back to top VINTAGE TASTINGS - La Paulee 2011, Part One 4/25/2011 12:00:00 AM La Paulee is one of the greatest wine experiences available to mankind. Daniel Johnnes, now wine director of Daniel’s culinary empire, has persevered year after year for the last eleven years in pulling off this extraordinary event, where Burgundy lovers from all over the world come together in either New York or San Francisco to share their greatest passion – Burgundy. I was reading an interview with DJ before the main event this year, and found out that his first trip to Burgundy was when he worked for Acker Merrall in the beginning of his illustrious career, and on that trip he met Christophe Roumier, now a close friend. That really brought everything full circle for me this year, and set the stage for another extraordinary weekend. If you haven’t been, you most certainly should. It’s worth planning a vacation around. Fortunately for me, it’s work :). La Paulee usually ends up being a three or four day affair, with pre-events both public and private, and this year we did a couple private ones. The first was a party I hosted on Thursday night, and the second an intimate evening of 1971s hosted by Mark and Roger and attended by such Burgundy dignitaries as Lalou and Vero. However, as I sit here on the flight from Guam to Honolulu, I can’t seem to find those notes (I swore I brought them!), so we will go straight to the main event. The first wine I sampled on this incredible night was a 1990 Pernot Bienvenues Batard Montrachet, which was a friendly Hail Mary pass courtesy of Brett Favre’s cousin. Brett wasn’t around, I don’t think he feels too welcome in New York anymore. The Pernot had lovely corn aromas and flavors and a round mouthfeel, it was in a nice spot with lots of tasty butter flavors and excellent acidity still. I was quite impressed with this insider’s wine (94). La Paulee is the wine world’s version of Fast and Furious, and Big Boy always gets to play Vin Diesel. He entered on cue with a 1976 Salon magnum. Its nose was what I called ‘white rusty,’ and it was very dry and tight, possessing that laser-like Salon quality on the palate but still noticeably a touch dry (93M). Dr. Wilf Jaeger, the artist formerly known as Dr. Vino and one of America’s greatest collectors, is a La Paulee anchor as much as he is a Burgundy icon. He pulled out a pet wine of his for starters, a magnum of 1990 Gagnard-Delagrange Montrachet. It was clean and delicious with nice citrus and guava qualities. Still quite fresh, it had that fresh rainwater feel, and while not as developed and forward as the Pernot, it still provided some very good drinking (92M). I assume that all magnums of Champagne come from Big Boy, although I know I got a couple of killer Champers from the Bad Boy as well. I think the magnum of 1966 Philipponat Clos des Goisses was one of Rob’s, but if not, he should still get the credit anyway for the awareness he has singlehandedly created about old Champagne! The Goisses was super fresh, no doubt more recently disgorged than not, with that signature wheat meets wheatgrass edge that always comes across quite pungently. Its pungency translated on to the palate, but this magnum showed more citrus than usual, which I found an appealing twist (95M). The first wow wine came courtesy of Big Mike, who was crushing it as usual with an incredibly rare magnum of 1990 Coche-Dury Corton Charlemagne. I had never even seen one myself, so there was some initial trepidation, although one sip from the glass eased all concerns, as this was certainly Coche, certainly Corton Charlemagne and mature like a 1990 should be. While still clean and fresh, no doubt aided and abetted by the magnum format, there were warm, mature aromas with a touch of honey on top. Someone commented how it ‘doesn’t have the power of 1996,’ and it didn’t, but it didn’t have to; after all, it was the 1990 :). There was subtle strength here and an unwinding quality to its acidity that I found extraordinary (96M). One spectacular magnum of 1990 was followed by another, this one being a 1990 Domaine Leflaive Chevalier Montrachet. The Leflaive was more open and gamy than the Coche, displaying more rainwater and buttered corn, and that signature Leflaive kernel. It was rich and ready (95M). A bottle of 2002 Simon Bize Corton Charlemagne snuck in courtesy of Brian if memory serves me correctly.; apparently this wine is super rare and not mainly people know Bize even makes it, or he only made it one year, I am not sure to be honest. There were hints of anise in the nose, and it was clean and long with sweet nut and fruit flavors (91). Bad Boy burst on the scene with one of the best bottles of Dom Perignon that I have ever had. It was just one of those bottles that was pure magic and ecstasy, delivering everything I could possibly want in an old Champagne and then some. This bottle of 1966 Dom Perignon was recenty disgorged in 1995, which leads me to believe that everyone needs to wait fifteen years after disgorgement before drinking. The size and stature of this bottle was huge and larger than life; its power and length were extraordinary. Now it wasn’t the first time that I have had this Champagne, but it certainly was the best. Unreal (98). Gotta Have It Bobby followed up nicely with a magnum of 1973 Taittinger Comtes de Champagne, which was tasty and sweet, full of pink and red fruits and still showing some solid ’73 zip (93M). A bottle of 2000 Coche-Dury Meursault Perrieres slipped in there. It was a classic 2000, clean and fresh, agile and cut, with that signature Coche kink to its nose. Rainwater, kernel and spice all graced its classy palate, which epitomized both 2000 and Coche quite well. I have been a fan of 2000 whites from day one, although it may be getting to be that time for many over the next handful of years (95). Dueling 1996 Montrachets were next, one out of magnum, the other out of jeroboam. First up was the 1996 Ramonet Montrachet. The nose was minty, gamey and corny, while its palate was rich and long. It was a touch too gamy on the palate unfortunately, but the bare bone raw materials and potential in this wine were extraordinary. Its acidity was almost endless, somehow in balance with the texture and the fruit. I’m not sure if it was a touch of cork or heat taint that affected this bottle, but I could still appreciate its greatness (96A-M). The jero of 1996 Bouchard Montrachet held its own quite nicely, delivering a delicious experience of must have Montrachet. It was class in a glass, showing great spice and lemony chalk, and not too much acidity as some 1996s are prone to have (95J). A 1979 Louis Roederer Cristal snuck in there, and I was glad it did. This bottle had only one owner its entire life pre-Paulee, and it showed. It was racy, long and zippy with fine butterscotch flavors, still a youthful personality (96). The first red of the evening was a disappointing 1990 Chezeaux Chambertin, the estate where Ponsot makes the wines, although I am not sure if he made all of them or just the Griottes. It was pungent and ok at best (88). It was soon an afterthought as the Chardonnay grape made its last hurrah with five more whites, beginning with another magnum of Ramonet, this time a 1992 Ramonet Montrachet. This magnum was doubly special, as it came from the cellar of Wolfgang Grunewald. It was a delicious expression of Chardonnay, clean and fresh with no signs of cracking or that 1992 rot. Amazing and pure, it gave me this white snow impression, and its balance was superb. I may be dating myself, but it made me feel like an actor in a York Peppermint Pattie commercial back in the day lol (97M). A magnum of 1982 Domaine Leflaive Puligny Montrachet Clavoillon was super fresh, almost too much so. This had to be reconditioned, and while dusty, long and pungent, it felt stripped of its age and nuance (90M). A bottle of 1993 Raveneau Chablis Montmains was still holding on, gamy and enjoyable but an afterthought on this star-struck night (90). The 1990 DRC Montrachet was the third to last white wine of the evening and certainly its finest to date. The nose just boasted about its greatness, and no other wine would dare speak back. It was as pure as this wine gets; there was no usual touch of botrytis in this distinguished, refined and youthful nose. Aromas and flavors of rain, white meat and butter danced in massive harmony, like an 80-piece orchestra all in the same key. Long and unreal, it was, well, long and unreal. What a wine (97+). There aren’t many wines that can follow a 1990 DRC Monrachet in fine fashion, but thankfully the 1985 Ramonet Montrachet is one of them, especially when out of magnum. Thanks to the Don for this beauty, which wasn’t as beautiful as the sight of Don carrying around this magnum like a torch in the cold, Beaune night. This was another no-doubt-about-it, fantastic white. Its enormity was incredible, and its bigger than life personality took center stage immediately. The palate was gritty and grainy, long and fantastic. It had the purity of anything virgin, you know, like snow, territory…(97M). Perhaps now might be a good time to take a break, or I’ll never finish this article. The reds were ready to go, leading off with three 1971s from DRC, two jeros and a magnum, and all 96 points or better. There were still thirty-five wines more that I would end up tasting. The rabbit hole goes very deep at La Paulee, so it’s a good thing that Burgundy goes well with rabbit :). FIN JK back to top VINTAGE TASTINGS - Friends and Family 3/22/2011 12:00:00 AM I love wine. I love to taste wine, many different wines, on a regular basis in what some might call a punishing fashion. It just so happens I am friends with The Punisher, which reminds me that while tasting can be done with anyone and everyone, drinking can only be done with friends. When I think about friends within the Acker family, there are some that always come to mind immediately. It just so happens I had the good fortune of seeing many of them over the past couple weeks. Being in New York a month straight may be a foreign concept to me, but it has also proven to be quite rewarding. Tuesday night Poker chez Big Boy proved to be a win-lose scenario, thanks to a couple of unfriendly rivers. Of course, one of them happened to be Big Boy’s, cracking my straight with a full house after I played him perfectly and had his three-of-a-kind dominated. That one hurt me the most. The ten-minute lecture about how he was the greatest poker player in the world didn’t exactly console me, something along the lines of why he was the King of the Business. I had to go to the shades after that, to which Patman quipped, ‘What’s up with the shades, Kapon? In a few minutes, I’m gonna look over there and see you with a Full-Tilt Poker shirt on next?’ LOL. Funny guys, these poker sharks. Fortunately, I got to drown my sorrows with wines from the world’s most generous collector, putting the win back in front of my mounting losses. I grabbed a 1988 Krug out of the cellar when I could have grabbed anything; perhaps I was too gentlemanly, but chivalry still does exist for some when in others’ cellars. I figured we’d ease into the evening with some bubbly, a general game plan if there ever were one. The Krug was big, bold, beefy and butterscotchy, quite dry, but even more so quite full. It was a big, classic Krug that could use another decade still before really getting to know better (95). A rare bottle of 1962 Comte Armand Pommard Clos des Epeneaux was up next, and was gamy and forward, a bit stewed. Aromas of grape leaves and pungent fruit graced its nose, while its palate showed off round, rich, soft and gamy qualities. ‘Big Boy found it, ‘pretty but not substantial.’ I think the bottle wasn’t perfect, although it did have a nice body, as did the dealer. It was a Big Boy production so I expected nothing less, and the Gonzagas on our dealer would have made any UCLA Bruin blush :) (93A). A magnum of 1962 Grivot Vosne Romanee Beauxmonts had a sweet, foresty nose on the blacker side of berries, with some stalks thrown in. It was super musky, with oats and a brown mesquite glaze. The palate was rich and hearty and had a big, fortified feel, with lots of muscle and brown sugar. Rob was commenting how well this wine went with the flavor of his smoke, an unlit cigar, of course (91M). We changed gears to a 1978 Ponsot Clos de la Roche. The nose was a bit musty at first, earthy but reticent, not yielding much. The palate was the exact opposite, offering up a rich, fleshy and seductive mouthful of a wine. It was lush and oily in a gritty way with a thick finish. The finish was really long, impressively so, and this big, muscular Ponsot was quite tasty in an earthy way. When Ponsot hits the bullseye, it is as good as anything else, although inconsistency still plagues this great Domaine (95+). ‘Petrus or Lafleur?’ I was asked, to which I would always reply the same thing, ‘Petrus.’ No offense to the incredible Lafleur, but I’m a Petrus boy, what can I say. A magnum of 1953 Petrus reminded me why I made that decision without hesitation. This was a spectacular wine from the very first sniff. The nose was fabulous, perfect old Petrus. Plum, olive, earth and iron all danced like white and black swans so happy together. Pat noted, ‘the good part of the banana peel.’ The wine had deep and rich fruit that was dripping everywhere, both aromatically and on the palate. The wine was lush, meaty and nutty, still round with a tight chalkiness, nonetheless. We guessed how many magnums of 1953 Petrus remain in the world today, and Big Boy conservatively guessed three to six, while I said less than twenty. I couldn’t stop drinking this wine, it was just so delicious and just right out of magnum right now (96M). A 1966 Rayas was an unusual move for Rob, but a welcome one. Old Rayas and Beaucastel can thrill as much as any Bordeaux or Burgundy, and this Rayas showed why. The nose was ripe, rich and spicy, full of strawberries and a pinch of rhubarb. It got saucier in the glass and started to emit complex nut oil aromas. The palate was also rich and spicy, although more hearty and jammy than the nose. There were thick, ceramic walls encasing the wine. Big Boy hailed it as ‘the purest Chateauneuf I have ever had.’ Of course, it was probably only his fourth :). Its long, thick finish held the wine together well in the glass, and its fruit stayed saucy in this sexy red (96). The last wine on this already historical evening made it officially historical, as it was a 1962 Rousseau Chambertin Clos de Beze. Its spectacular nose was super rich and the concentrated essence of great Pinot Noir. There was almost ‘ridiculous’ richness, and this was one 1962 that certainly was not riding off into the sunset ever so slowly, as many are. This was a perfect specimen for 1962, with its fresh fruit, oil, tomato and hints of bouillon. There are only three wines that have energy like this, Vogue Musigny, La Tache and RC. And on that note, it was time to say good night (97). And on the next day, it was time to say hello again, this time to a King and his merry men at Del Posto, for a semi-regular gathering. Too bad I showed up at Marea. Fortunately, I was only fifteen minutes delayed, and quickly caught up to a bevy of beauties, the Champagne, that is. While Big Boy may open up more wine than anyone in the world today based on a criteria of value, King Angry certainly tastes more wines on a regular basis than anyone I know, well with the exception of one handsome and dashing young Acker wine auctioneer :). I caught up quickly on the first flight of Champagnes. In true royal fashion, one Champagne is never enough for the King, so we had five. Technically, the welcome wine was a magnum of 1970 Moet, which almost stole the show. It had a delicious nose that hinted at its more distinguished sibling, Dom Perignon. Musky and smoky, its rich nose was full of bread and oil, and the palate was delicious. While big and brawny, it was quite tasty, and a delicious vanilla flavor profile developed, along with a honeyed nose. Earth and broth kept everything in balance in this decadently friendly bubbly, quite a good show for a 1970 (94M). A trio of Oenotheques followed from the actual Dom Perignon, beginning with the 1964 Dom Perignon Oenotheque (disgorged in 1999). The ’64 had a sugary nose, like a hard brittle made from hand-poured caramel. Its palate was clean, ‘it has the Oeno palate,’ I wrote, with its lightly sweet personality and traces of citrus, straw and hay. It was classy, and JP noted ‘honey’ (94). The 1975 Dom Perignon Oenotheque (disgorged in 2007) started more slowly out of the gate, but it finished the strongest, no doubt assisted by the most recent disgorgement date. Its nose was bigger, full of grass and noticeable lime. The palate was big and aggressive, although at first it tasted a touch bitter and too young. It continued to put on weight and got bigger in the glass, and although I preferred the initial style of the 1964 better, both that and the following 1976 eventually fell back in the glass while the 1975 got better and better. The honey of the 1964 became ‘honeysuckle’ for the 1975 for JP, and someone likened the 1964 to a female, and the 1975 to a male accordingly (95+). The 1976 Dom Perignon Oenotheque (disgorged in 2003) had a wheatier nose with a hint of soup, but the signature sugar came out slowly. The palate had a decent initial attack but was ultimately lighter and softer, quite tangy as well (93). The Oenotheque program is a fairly new one for Dom Perignon, and they seem quite content to charge significantly higher prices for these late releases direct from the Domaine. Time will tell whether or not the Oenos can age like original releases; I, for one, would always prefer an original release to any wine tinkered, touched up, redone, fixed, enhanced or whatever adjective any given doctor might prescribe to this condition, like another might describe a new set of breasts. I will say that the Oenotheques are certainly quality, but I do taste the style of Oeno over the style of any given vintage. You’ll have to make your own decisions from here. One thing for sure, a bottle of Oeno will always show well, unless it went through some horror story shipment. An Italian two-step led us into the reds, beginning with a gorgeous 1970 Giacosa Barbaresco Montefico. Its nose was delightfully complex and open, with classic Italian cigar, earth and tobacco leaf, along with chocolate and tar. There was bright cherry fruit behind it, so much so that it flirted with Burgundy with its soft, tender personality. The wine was as delicious on the palate as it was on the nose, delivering earthy and nutty flavors in tasty, fine fashion. It ultimately won the first King Angry Miss Congeniality Award, and the King is tough to please (95). A 1971 Gaja Barbaresco Sori Tilden was poo-pooed at first, but I liked its nose right away. It was more soupy than the Giacosa, not as fresh and clean, with some winter vegetable action as well. There was lots of mushroom to its palate, more flesh and a lush and tasty overall personality (93). Ahhhhh, Burgundy. The 1985 DRC Echezeaux oozed wet earth, truffles, fungus, tobacco and sweet cherry in a pungent way. The palate was thinner than the nose led me to believe and had some body odor issues (92). The 1985 DRC Romanee St. Vivant was clearly a sibling of the Echezeaux, with a purer nose. There was more coffee to its nose, along with fresh red fruits and rainwater. Its palate was soft and beautiful, tender with its round and deceptively long personality. It got a bit dry over time in the glass, a knock on ’85 DRCs for some, but not a problem for me, usually (94). We were back to Italy with a pair of ‘82s, again led into the flight by a Giacosa, this time a 1982 Giacosa Barbaresco Santo Stefano Riserva. Its darker, deeper nose had brown sugared fruit, flirting with a Port meets Tokaji experiment. There were tar and leather flavors and a zippy finish, but this bottle was clearly affected and not at its best (91A). The 1982 Giacomo Conterno Barolo Monfortino Riserva was much fresher, with tar and anise laying their claim to its aromatic profile first and foremost, so much so that hairs felt raised on the back of my neck. The palate was similar, with some leather thrown in for spanks and giggles, and its long acidity summed up this youthful and hesitant wine with one word – regal (95). A pair of Guigals rounded out our evening, beginning with a special 1985 Guigal Cote Rotie La Mouline. Beef, blood, oak, menthol, black fruits and olives were all in its layered and complex nose. Its earthy palate was long and zippy full of minerals and menthol as well. It clearly had the most material of all of the above, with plenty still to unveil (97). The 1988 Guigal Cote Rotie La Turque had a much oakier nose with lots of pepper. Black fruits and oil permeated the nose and mouth, and while it was thick and long, the La Mouline absolutely ‘pancaked’ the La Turque. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the opposite happen. Long live La Mouline (93). A week or so later, I found myself at Veritas, circumstantially there the same night it received three stars from the New York Times. Since I don’t review food, I’ll leave that up to you to decide, but I will say that the wine list is still going strong, alive and kicking, with a phenomenal selection that’s still priced incredibly fairly. The Hedonist and I gathered for a long overdue dinner where we happily plundered the list for one, two, three times a lady. I was looking for lightning to strike twice when I selected a 1996 D’Auvenay Chevalier Montrachet first. The price was right, and it had been one of the best white wines I ever had when I drank it chez Imperial Cellar a year or so ago. This bottle wasn’t perfect like that one, but it was still outstanding. The wine was still big and rich with amazing density, although a touch sweet and advanced. It was still a mammoth, but clearly had matured faster for whatever reasons. Being the gentlemen that we are, we drank the whole thing :) (95A). Jay wisely selected a 1993 Rousseau Gevrey Chambertin Clos St. Jacques. It was class in a glass and absolutely delicious. It was full but elegant with great fruit – black, red and purple were all there. Forest, earth, minerals all played their supporting roles perfectly in this superbly sippable wine. I could drink Rousseau’s Clos St. Jacques every day, it’s basically Chambertin gone wild, in that hot, feminine way (96). Jay was all over a 1993 Bachelet Charmes next, but I talked him into a 2002 Meo-Camuzet Vosne Romanee Cros Parantoux. I have had a recent hardon for 2002, finding the wines to be in a great spot right now, and the vintage to be the forgotten great vintage lost between 1999 and 2005…and Cros Parantoux, how could one go wrong? Well, I forgot the wines of Meo tend to be very unyielding in their youth, and this was certainly no exception. While tighter than a nun’s knees, the Meo slowly uncoiled aromatically and majestically. The nose had so much going on, it was just seven levels down below, and concentration was required. The palate was lean and tight, but the wine’s aromas still seduced. To be continued (93+). The last evening of my friends and family plan took me to a familiar place, a place not so far away and very close to my heart, chez The Don, the king of all things Burgundy. There isn’t a better cellar, or a better dinner companion than The Don. With the Inspector and Mr. K also on hand, everything was set for a fine evening of food, friends and fine wine. It doesn’t get any better. The weather was starting to cooperate in Spring-like fashion, so we started with a couple of Raveneaus on the patio. I caught the tail end of a disappointing and perplexing 1996 Raveneau Montee de Tonnerre . I love this bottling and vintage from Raveneau, but this bottle seemed confused, lacking a centerpoint. It wasn’t oxidized or cooked or corked, but it wasn’t what it should have been. It was a touch oaky, lacking definition (85?). We soon forgot the mystery of the Montee de Tonnerre thanks to an excellent 1996 Raveneau Chablis Valmur. ‘It’s screaming oyster shells and minerals,’ Mr. K keenly observed. There was also wet earth, damp towel and yellow citrus, with just a touch of tropical in there. Everything in this wine was lightly positioned, coming together quite well. Its palate was clean and fresh, with those oyster shells taking center stage amidst other flavors similar to its aromas. This was a smooth and steady Chablis, but I was looking for a bit more oomph given the vintage’s reputation (93). I found just that in a 1996 Roulot Meursault Perrieres. It had a fantastic, fat, buttery nose with great toast to spread it on. The mouthfeel was rich, big and lush, classy yet oily. It had the perfect amount of toast to its palate, putting the wet in the kiss in which it was framed. Decadently drinkable, this was a wine that puts the wow into white Burgundy (95+). We sat down to dinner with a 1985 Bachelet Charmes Chambertin Vieilles Vignes. It was a nice ‘starter’ wine. I couldn’t help but think again how I was supposed to have the 1993 a night ago! The Bachelet had a beautiful, deep, dark and chunky nose with hints of satay to go with its garden and fruits, which were black and purple. Someone admired its ‘wonderful purity.’ Vitamins and musk joined the party, and Mr. K commented how it was ‘all crushed berries.’ It was quite fruity in the mouth, and this pie of a palate had a dirty slice to it, as mushroom and dill crept in. All in all, it was a smooth and balanced wine, typical of 1985 in that regard, although there was a touch of atypical to it in regard to Burgundy (93). The night’s featured attraction was a flight of four 1949s, all Chambertin in one form or another. We began with a 1949 Faiveley Mazis Chambertin. The nose had an old, oaty (yes, oaty), earthy, old school Faiveley style, sprinkled with lots of citrus dust. There was a little VA on the nose per the Inspector, like brown sugar meeting a barnyard feeding bag, if that makes sense. The wine was polished and fine in the mouth, mature but still on the tail end of a plateau. There were lots of vegetable flavors along with some game and meat, but the animal qualities were the side dishes. A hint of celery snuck in there to go with its soupy, bouillon flavors (91). The 1949 Morin Chambertin actually stole the show in the flight. Its nose was much fresher and redder than the Mazis, with more sugar sprinkled about. It smelled almost buttery, flirting with a BBQ kinkiness at times. The palate was soft, tender and tasty with a nice finish and some tongue-twisting tension left that was light yet firm. The acidity seemed to gain in the glass, and the Morin provided a pleasant and unexpected ‘wow’ factor (94). We had another Faiveley, this time a 1949 Faiveley Chambertin Conferie des Chevaliers du Tasteduvin bottling. Unfortunately, this bottle was more Madeira than red, definitely oxidized although arguably drinkable (DQ). We finished the flight as we should, with a 1949 Leroy Chambertin. Again, there was a celery component in the nose, although with this Leroy, it came first not later. There was a lot of stalk and veggie in the nose, but the palate had more rose to its flavors, with nice citrus overtones. It was a classic 1949, tender and pleasant, silky and soft, and with time became more exotic, offering fruit tea flavors and aromas that flirted with apricot. The Inspector kept inquiring what vintage everyone thought it was, refusing to close the case. The wine was graceful and elegant, but I wanted more (92). And more we did get, in the form of a 1990 Chave Ermitage Cuvee Cathelin. Mr. K was already setting the table with ‘one of the all-time greats, on a par with Roumier Musigny and Jayer.’ The Inspector was already sulking now that Burgundy had left the building, but he pulled himself together to observe ‘root beer float.’ I got the whole ice cream sundae thing, along with a kick of gas. The palate was thick like an oil slick full of black fruit and asphalt flavors, quite velvety on its finish with kisses of menthol. Mike came in with ‘young puppy breath,’ and I saw what he was saying. There was a lot of animalistic edges to this big-time wine (95). There have been many other wines and nights this year, none greater in breadth and scope than La Paulee. Come to think of it, I never wrote up last year either. Stay tuned. FIN JK ">

I love wine. I love to taste wine, many different wines, on a regular basis in what some might call a punishing fashion. It just so happens I am friends with The Punisher, which reminds me that while tasting can be done with anyone and everyone, drinking can only be done with friends. When I think about friends within the Acker family, there are some that always come to mind immediately. It just so happens I had the good fortune of seeing many of them over the past couple weeks. Being in New York a month straight may be a foreign concept to me, but it has also proven to be quite rewarding. Tuesday night Poker chez Big Boy proved to be a win-lose scenario, thanks to a couple of unfriendly rivers. Of course, one of them happened to be Big Boy’s, cracking my straight with a full house after I played him perfectly and had his three-of-a-kind dominated. That one hurt me the most. The ten-minute lecture about how he was the greatest poker player in the world didn’t exactly console me, something along the lines of why he was the King of the Business. I had to go to the shades after that, to which Patman quipped, ‘What’s up with the shades, Kapon? In a few minutes, I’m gonna look over there and see you with a Full-Tilt Poker shirt on next?’ LOL. Funny guys, these poker sharks. Fortunately, I got to drown my sorrows with wines from the world’s most generous collector, putting the win back in front of my mounting losses. I grabbed a 1988 Krug out of the cellar when I could have grabbed anything; perhaps I was too gentlemanly, but chivalry still does exist for some when in others’ cellars. I figured we’d ease into the evening with some bubbly, a general game plan if there ever were one. The Krug was big, bold, beefy and butterscotchy, quite dry, but even more so quite full. It was a big, classic Krug that could use another decade still before really getting to know better (95). A rare bottle of 1962 Comte Armand Pommard Clos des Epeneaux was up next, and was gamy and forward, a bit stewed. Aromas of grape leaves and pungent fruit graced its nose, while its palate showed off round, rich, soft and gamy qualities. ‘Big Boy found it, ‘pretty but not substantial.’ I think the bottle wasn’t perfect, although it did have a nice body, as did the dealer. It was a Big Boy production so I expected nothing less, and the Gonzagas on our dealer would have made any UCLA Bruin blush :) (93A). A magnum of 1962 Grivot Vosne Romanee Beauxmonts had a sweet, foresty nose on the blacker side of berries, with some stalks thrown in. It was super musky, with oats and a brown mesquite glaze. The palate was rich and hearty and had a big, fortified feel, with lots of muscle and brown sugar. Rob was commenting how well this wine went with the flavor of his smoke, an unlit cigar, of course (91M). We changed gears to a 1978 Ponsot Clos de la Roche. The nose was a bit musty at first, earthy but reticent, not yielding much. The palate was the exact opposite, offering up a rich, fleshy and seductive mouthful of a wine. It was lush and oily in a gritty way with a thick finish. The finish was really long, impressively so, and this big, muscular Ponsot was quite tasty in an earthy way. When Ponsot hits the bullseye, it is as good as anything else, although inconsistency still plagues this great Domaine (95+). ‘Petrus or Lafleur?’ I was asked, to which I would always reply the same thing, ‘Petrus.’ No offense to the incredible Lafleur, but I’m a Petrus boy, what can I say. A magnum of 1953 Petrus reminded me why I made that decision without hesitation. This was a spectacular wine from the very first sniff. The nose was fabulous, perfect old Petrus. Plum, olive, earth and iron all danced like white and black swans so happy together. Pat noted, ‘the good part of the banana peel.’ The wine had deep and rich fruit that was dripping everywhere, both aromatically and on the palate. The wine was lush, meaty and nutty, still round with a tight chalkiness, nonetheless. We guessed how many magnums of 1953 Petrus remain in the world today, and Big Boy conservatively guessed three to six, while I said less than twenty. I couldn’t stop drinking this wine, it was just so delicious and just right out of magnum right now (96M). A 1966 Rayas was an unusual move for Rob, but a welcome one. Old Rayas and Beaucastel can thrill as much as any Bordeaux or Burgundy, and this Rayas showed why. The nose was ripe, rich and spicy, full of strawberries and a pinch of rhubarb. It got saucier in the glass and started to emit complex nut oil aromas. The palate was also rich and spicy, although more hearty and jammy than the nose. There were thick, ceramic walls encasing the wine. Big Boy hailed it as ‘the purest Chateauneuf I have ever had.’ Of course, it was probably only his fourth :). Its long, thick finish held the wine together well in the glass, and its fruit stayed saucy in this sexy red (96). The last wine on this already historical evening made it officially historical, as it was a 1962 Rousseau Chambertin Clos de Beze. Its spectacular nose was super rich and the concentrated essence of great Pinot Noir. There was almost ‘ridiculous’ richness, and this was one 1962 that certainly was not riding off into the sunset ever so slowly, as many are. This was a perfect specimen for 1962, with its fresh fruit, oil, tomato and hints of bouillon. There are only three wines that have energy like this, Vogue Musigny, La Tache and RC. And on that note, it was time to say good night (97). And on the next day, it was time to say hello again, this time to a King and his merry men at Del Posto, for a semi-regular gathering. Too bad I showed up at Marea. Fortunately, I was only fifteen minutes delayed, and quickly caught up to a bevy of beauties, the Champagne, that is. While Big Boy may open up more wine than anyone in the world today based on a criteria of value, King Angry certainly tastes more wines on a regular basis than anyone I know, well with the exception of one handsome and dashing young Acker wine auctioneer :). I caught up quickly on the first flight of Champagnes. In true royal fashion, one Champagne is never enough for the King, so we had five. Technically, the welcome wine was a magnum of 1970 Moet, which almost stole the show. It had a delicious nose that hinted at its more distinguished sibling, Dom Perignon. Musky and smoky, its rich nose was full of bread and oil, and the palate was delicious. While big and brawny, it was quite tasty, and a delicious vanilla flavor profile developed, along with a honeyed nose. Earth and broth kept everything in balance in this decadently friendly bubbly, quite a good show for a 1970 (94M). A trio of Oenotheques followed from the actual Dom Perignon, beginning with the 1964 Dom Perignon Oenotheque (disgorged in 1999). The ’64 had a sugary nose, like a hard brittle made from hand-poured caramel. Its palate was clean, ‘it has the Oeno palate,’ I wrote, with its lightly sweet personality and traces of citrus, straw and hay. It was classy, and JP noted ‘honey’ (94). The 1975 Dom Perignon Oenotheque (disgorged in 2007) started more slowly out of the gate, but it finished the strongest, no doubt assisted by the most recent disgorgement date. Its nose was bigger, full of grass and noticeable lime. The palate was big and aggressive, although at first it tasted a touch bitter and too young. It continued to put on weight and got bigger in the glass, and although I preferred the initial style of the 1964 better, both that and the following 1976 eventually fell back in the glass while the 1975 got better and better. The honey of the 1964 became ‘honeysuckle’ for the 1975 for JP, and someone likened the 1964 to a female, and the 1975 to a male accordingly (95+). The 1976 Dom Perignon Oenotheque (disgorged in 2003) had a wheatier nose with a hint of soup, but the signature sugar came out slowly. The palate had a decent initial attack but was ultimately lighter and softer, quite tangy as well (93). The Oenotheque program is a fairly new one for Dom Perignon, and they seem quite content to charge significantly higher prices for these late releases direct from the Domaine. Time will tell whether or not the Oenos can age like original releases; I, for one, would always prefer an original release to any wine tinkered, touched up, redone, fixed, enhanced or whatever adjective any given doctor might prescribe to this condition, like another might describe a new set of breasts. I will say that the Oenotheques are certainly quality, but I do taste the style of Oeno over the style of any given vintage. You’ll have to make your own decisions from here. One thing for sure, a bottle of Oeno will always show well, unless it went through some horror story shipment. An Italian two-step led us into the reds, beginning with a gorgeous 1970 Giacosa Barbaresco Montefico. Its nose was delightfully complex and open, with classic Italian cigar, earth and tobacco leaf, along with chocolate and tar. There was bright cherry fruit behind it, so much so that it flirted with Burgundy with its soft, tender personality. The wine was as delicious on the palate as it was on the nose, delivering earthy and nutty flavors in tasty, fine fashion. It ultimately won the first King Angry Miss Congeniality Award, and the King is tough to please (95). A 1971 Gaja Barbaresco Sori Tilden was poo-pooed at first, but I liked its nose right away. It was more soupy than the Giacosa, not as fresh and clean, with some winter vegetable action as well. There was lots of mushroom to its palate, more flesh and a lush and tasty overall personality (93). Ahhhhh, Burgundy. The 1985 DRC Echezeaux oozed wet earth, truffles, fungus, tobacco and sweet cherry in a pungent way. The palate was thinner than the nose led me to believe and had some body odor issues (92). The 1985 DRC Romanee St. Vivant was clearly a sibling of the Echezeaux, with a purer nose. There was more coffee to its nose, along with fresh red fruits and rainwater. Its palate was soft and beautiful, tender with its round and deceptively long personality. It got a bit dry over time in the glass, a knock on ’85 DRCs for some, but not a problem for me, usually (94). We were back to Italy with a pair of ‘82s, again led into the flight by a Giacosa, this time a 1982 Giacosa Barbaresco Santo Stefano Riserva. Its darker, deeper nose had brown sugared fruit, flirting with a Port meets Tokaji experiment. There were tar and leather flavors and a zippy finish, but this bottle was clearly affected and not at its best (91A). The 1982 Giacomo Conterno Barolo Monfortino Riserva was much fresher, with tar and anise laying their claim to its aromatic profile first and foremost, so much so that hairs felt raised on the back of my neck. The palate was similar, with some leather thrown in for spanks and giggles, and its long acidity summed up this youthful and hesitant wine with one word – regal (95). A pair of Guigals rounded out our evening, beginning with a special 1985 Guigal Cote Rotie La Mouline. Beef, blood, oak, menthol, black fruits and olives were all in its layered and complex nose. Its earthy palate was long and zippy full of minerals and menthol as well. It clearly had the most material of all of the above, with plenty still to unveil (97). The 1988 Guigal Cote Rotie La Turque had a much oakier nose with lots of pepper. Black fruits and oil permeated the nose and mouth, and while it was thick and long, the La Mouline absolutely ‘pancaked’ the La Turque. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the opposite happen. Long live La Mouline (93). A week or so later, I found myself at Veritas, circumstantially there the same night it received three stars from the New York Times. Since I don’t review food, I’ll leave that up to you to decide, but I will say that the wine list is still going strong, alive and kicking, with a phenomenal selection that’s still priced incredibly fairly. The Hedonist and I gathered for a long overdue dinner where we happily plundered the list for one, two, three times a lady. I was looking for lightning to strike twice when I selected a 1996 D’Auvenay Chevalier Montrachet first. The price was right, and it had been one of the best white wines I ever had when I drank it chez Imperial Cellar a year or so ago. This bottle wasn’t perfect like that one, but it was still outstanding. The wine was still big and rich with amazing density, although a touch sweet and advanced. It was still a mammoth, but clearly had matured faster for whatever reasons. Being the gentlemen that we are, we drank the whole thing :) (95A). Jay wisely selected a 1993 Rousseau Gevrey Chambertin Clos St. Jacques. It was class in a glass and absolutely delicious. It was full but elegant with great fruit – black, red and purple were all there. Forest, earth, minerals all played their supporting roles perfectly in this superbly sippable wine. I could drink Rousseau’s Clos St. Jacques every day, it’s basically Chambertin gone wild, in that hot, feminine way (96). Jay was all over a 1993 Bachelet Charmes next, but I talked him into a 2002 Meo-Camuzet Vosne Romanee Cros Parantoux. I have had a recent hardon for 2002, finding the wines to be in a great spot right now, and the vintage to be the forgotten great vintage lost between 1999 and 2005…and Cros Parantoux, how could one go wrong? Well, I forgot the wines of Meo tend to be very unyielding in their youth, and this was certainly no exception. While tighter than a nun’s knees, the Meo slowly uncoiled aromatically and majestically. The nose had so much going on, it was just seven levels down below, and concentration was required. The palate was lean and tight, but the wine’s aromas still seduced. To be continued (93+). The last evening of my friends and family plan took me to a familiar place, a place not so far away and very close to my heart, chez The Don, the king of all things Burgundy. There isn’t a better cellar, or a better dinner companion than The Don. With the Inspector and Mr. K also on hand, everything was set for a fine evening of food, friends and fine wine. It doesn’t get any better. The weather was starting to cooperate in Spring-like fashion, so we started with a couple of Raveneaus on the patio. I caught the tail end of a disappointing and perplexing 1996 Raveneau Montee de Tonnerre . I love this bottling and vintage from Raveneau, but this bottle seemed confused, lacking a centerpoint. It wasn’t oxidized or cooked or corked, but it wasn’t what it should have been. It was a touch oaky, lacking definition (85?). We soon forgot the mystery of the Montee de Tonnerre thanks to an excellent 1996 Raveneau Chablis Valmur. ‘It’s screaming oyster shells and minerals,’ Mr. K keenly observed. There was also wet earth, damp towel and yellow citrus, with just a touch of tropical in there. Everything in this wine was lightly positioned, coming together quite well. Its palate was clean and fresh, with those oyster shells taking center stage amidst other flavors similar to its aromas. This was a smooth and steady Chablis, but I was looking f back to top VINTAGE TASTINGS - Northern Lights 1/30/2011 12:00:00 AM Before my recent leg to Hong Kong, I spent a weekend far, far away in a Northern land where the cold and snow are rites of passage, and the days have much less light, although more than the rumors rumble. When night falls early, dinner comes accordingly, and I spent an incredible evening, sampling incredible wines thanks to an incredible pair of wine lovers. The first part of the evening was a tasting, and done double blind – not knowing the order (single blind) and the wines’ identity (double blind). Clues were sparingly provided, as our hosts playfully pounced on the educated guesses that sometimes became very uneducated in retrospect. That’s the beauty of a blind wine tasting; it really strips everything down to its core, whether it is the wine itself or the actual tasters. The first wine was served as a welcome, and what a welcome it was. We were given a clue that it was a 100 year old wine, so we knew it was from 1911. It still had a great, classic nose of sweet cassis, nut, leather and tobacco. Its palate was round, seductively tender, with flavors of light citrus and more tobacco. Juha also noted ‘leather’ on the palate, and the one lady in attendance, Esse, admired its ‘fragrant’ quality. Having had the 1911 Cos d’Estournel two nights prior, this was a real treat, and another testament to the vintage. ‘Silky and smooth’ were used to describe the qualities of 1911, and while its tannins were indeed melted, the acidity still remained. There was a chocolaty edge to it for sure, and I was convinced for a bit that it was Mouton, most certainly a Pauillac. It wasn’t either. ‘Varnish’ and ‘strawberry’ came from the eager and actively participating crowd. Its really elegant style charmed most, and I was stunned to see this be a 1911 Cheval Blanc. It was such a Left Bank impersonator! I learned that it was tradition for Pekka to have as the first wine of the first great tasting of the year a 100 year-old wine. See you next year, my friend :) (93). We sat down to a pair of Champagnes, the first of which was clearly old and perhaps a touch too mature, but there was still some life left in its bones. Aromas of honey, rust, bread and pungent candle oil were in its nose. There were lots of candle wax flavors to match, and a touch of bubbles left. It had a yeasty finish, a bit unpleasant like a morning mouth kiss. Its honey qualities blossomed a bit, but this was slightly oxidized, a bit more yeasty than it should have been. ‘Tar’ came from Esse, and I started to taste some cooked sugar. While there volume in the mouth, this bottle had seen better days, and what a shame that was, as it was an incredibly rare bottle of 1928 Dom Perignon, the second vintage ever made (90A). The second Champagne brought Clos des Goisses to mind, and it turned out to be just that. Its nose was distinctively grassy and wheaty. There were ‘nice toast and bubbles’ per one gentleman. It had a long, similar personality on the palate with flavors of white, pungent fruits and a lemon/lime finish. Juha found it, ‘energetic and pungent’ with flavors of ‘green apple.’ ‘Heavy’ and ‘Pinot-dominated’ came from the crowd for this 1961 Philipponat Clos des Goisses (92). The next flight was one of red wines, with the clue that they were all very important wines for their wineries and from different countries. The first had a nose full of coffee and blueberries. It had a Cabernet impression but was something different, I thought. Its fruit was forward and smoky, and its palate was round, lightly lush and long with earthy flavors on its finish. By the time I had finished evaluating the wine, I was convinced it was California, and it was a 1974 Heitz Martha’s Vineyard. The problem was that it wasn’t like any other bottle of this that I had ever had. This was usually one of the most distinctive wines of the 20th Century, and this bottle was far from it. After close inspection of the cork and bottle, it seemed to me as if this was a bottle that had gotten reconditioned (poorly) at the winery as the bottle seemed legit, although I don’t know for a fact if Heitz ever did that. A signature by one of the Heitz’s on the label backed that hypothesis up. If they didn’t recondition any, something wasn’t right (89?). The second wine was a badly oxizidized 1982 Pesquera Janus. I thought the wine was completely shot, but a few necrophiliacs were trying to convince me this was the style of the wine made in 1982. I have never tasted another Pesquera that tasted like this, and I love the estate. This wine made me want to paint the room with it, but somehow the average score of the group was 84 points, those that did vote at least. This was apparently the wine that made Parker put Pesquera on the wine map (DQ). Green olives dominated the nose of the next wine, and it carried over to the palate. There were dried fruit flavors, light chocolate shavings, leaving almost a pudding impression without the thickness. Pekka likened it to ‘meat soup,’ although I wasn’t sure which meat he usually included in his soup! It was richer and more complete than its predecessors, and there was nice sweetness to the palate in a carob/caramel way. Someone thought it was ‘La Miss-ish,’ but it was a 1972 Sassicaia! The significance of the 1972 was that it won a big London tasting in 1978 or 1979, we were told. Another tidbit was that it was actually made privately for the family from 1948 up until 1968, the first commercial release (93). The last wine of this flight had a nose full of coffee and olives, almost combining the first and third wine in the glass a bit. The nose was earthy and hairy, with positive horse and barn in it, almost like a red Clos des Goisses with its wild character. The palate was rich, lush and confident, long and great with delicious coffee bean and taut lingonberry fruit flavors. Juha purred on about its ‘wonderful nose,’ continuing with ‘espresso with whipped cream’ and ‘yogurt.’ This 1918 Vega Sicilia Unico was the third vintage of this wine, although the first, 1915, was never released (95). A trio of reds was our last pre-dinner flight, and the first wine had a little more barn to it, along with old wood walls, rye bread and some body odor. It was sweaty and complex, ‘beautiful’ per Pekka. Its flavors were peculiarly good and also particularly unique, like some Wasa bread with a core of kaleidoscopic red and purple fruits. It really improved in the glass, no small feat considering it was a 1864 Margaux, the oldest Bordeaux I believe I have ever had. It was still excellent, make that extraordinary, with a lengthy, lip-smacking finish. We were reminded how Michael Broadbent hailed 1864 as ‘one of the greatest vintages of the 19th Century’ (94). The next wine had a Bordeaux nose and was definitely old. It had a webbed, old wood frame but a core of chocolate and cassis underneath. It was gamy like a good, moldy blue cheese, and ice cream soda emerged in this chameleon of a wine. The palate was lighter and a touch watery, tender and soft, not exciting, but this 1924 Mouton Rothschild was still hanging on. It was the first vintage they used an artist label (90). The last wine of this flight was supposed to be from 1888, but instead became a 1982 Montrose when the 1888 was no good. It showed a bit metallically at first with some cherry behind it. The palate was much better, showing a Rhonish pepper edge. The nose got creamier, and the palate was light, pleasant and easy with carob and slate flavors, and a touch of red fruits. After the ’82 Montrose, a streak of my scores coinciding with the group’s average ended after four in a row (91). We sat down to dinner and a magnum of 1975 Joseph Perrier Cuvee Royale. It had a truffly nose, quite oily in its expression. The palate was sweet and sugary, smooth and exotic with light petillance. Esse noted, ‘cotton candy,’ and Juha ‘caramel,’ but it wasn’t my style. Someone hailed it as ‘eccentrically enjoyable,’ but I didn’t really care to drink it. The significance of this wine was that it was the ‘other’ Champagne served at the Royal Wedding of Charles and Diana, the first, of course, being the legendary 1961 Dom Perignon. Apparently, this was served for all of Diana’s guests as it was a personal favorite of hers; the Royals sure know how to treat the inlaws lol. I can just see Queen Elizabeth now, ‘Let them drink Joseph Perrier’ hahaha (88M). We reverted to the blind games with a very old white. It had a bit of glue to its nose, that old White Bordeaux-like character, with a lot of animal attraction. The palate had a sweeter Riesling character, though, full of dry peach and petrol flavors. It was light and simpler in the mouth than on the nose, and most were in agreement that this was an old Auslese, and it was. The 1929 Karl Schmitt Niersteiner Flesichenhahl Riesling Auslese ‘lacked acidity’ but had a round, tender finish with apricot rind flavors (91). The next white was clearly white Burgundy and an extraordinary one at that. It had a toasted head that reminded me at first of Leflaive. Its nose was smoky and powerful, with big kernel aromas along with butter and yellow fruit. Someone noted, ‘turpentine and minerals.’ The palate had great earth and minerals with impressive acidity and long flavors. It was a 1985 DRC Montrachet. While there was less botrytis and more toast than usual, this DRC Montrachet was every bit as impressive as any other (96). We finally crossed the road and got to the other side with some red Burgundy. The nose of our first was seductive and saucy with tomato, musk and a hint of Worcestershire. It was rich, earthy and expressive with lots of outdoor aromas. Someone noted ‘an iron taste at the end,’ and I noticed lemony kisses to go with hearty acidity. There was a bit of brown sugar and metal as well to go with its foresty flavors and ‘orange smell.’ It was a bit forward and somewhat gamy, and while the acidity still lifted the wine nicely, I felt that the 1982 Jayer Echezeaux was a touch advanced and not a perfect bottle (93A). The Burgundy that followed smelled much younger, and Juha noticed ‘brambly black fruit.’ There was a whiff of green wood in its long nose, which was a bit vegetal in a root way. There was also a bit of unclean fish tank in there at first, although that might have been the glass. This was a big, heavy monster in the mouth, extremely concentrated, with its green wood maintaining aggression. Someone guessed Jayer due to the oak, but I was in a DRC Richebourg frame of mind. It was a 1989 DRC Romanee Conti. It was complex and complicated although at least a decade too young. Its nose became more milky, and its palate more brothy with bouillon flavors to go with beefy undertones (94). We were back to Bordeaux with Pekka’s greatest wine of all-time, and this would be the 100th time that he ever sampled it, and he’s younger than the wine, too. The 1961 Latour had a fresh and fabulous nose, with the energy of a new starlet but still the wisdom of an Oscar-winning veteran. There was a touch of wheat to its core of cassis, with secondary qualities of nut, charcoal and rainwater. The palate was rich and flat-out spectacular with a finish that just wouldn’t quit. There were great tobacco and mineral flavors to this super special wine. Even though I felt the bottle was in perfect condition, Pekka, of course, had had a few that were better. I didn’t ask him where the bottle rated on his top 100 list for 1961 Latour lol (97). A wild wine followed that was pungent, gamy, oaky and overripe. There was too much wood in its nose which left a stinky overall impression. The wine was fleshy and rich in the mouth, but again there was too much wood, sickly so. The wine was better after some steak, but I still couldn’t tolerate its flavor. I liked this 1971 Penfolds Grange the least of the group by a considerable amount. The bottle was reconditioned in 1998, and having had this wine on numerous occasions, I can safely recommend sticking with original bottles (89). There were a couple of ports to end the evening from the 19th Century, including a controversial (per Dirk) 1888 Niepoort and some random 1837 Colheita. We actually also had a 2007 Hourglass Cabernet Sauvignon, but I will be merciful and leave that part of the evening as a hazy memory. It was a most incredible evening organized by Pekka and Juha, the first of many we will share together, I am sure. Their passion and respect for the ancient wonders of the wine world struck a chord that resonates within my own heart. It is always reassuring to find new wine lovers in new parts of the world that just want to drink it. FIN JK back to top VINTAGE TASTINGS - Cos Back to the 19th c. with Jean-Guillaume 1/16/2011 12:00:00 AM I recently woke up in Vegas and flew back to New York for dinner, before leaving shortly thereafter for Europe, all in one day. Only a dinner of significant magnitude could make me adhere to such a schedule, and it was a special one, a vertical of Cos d’Estournel back to 1893, including almost all of its most significant vintages. All the more special was the fact that Jean-Guillaume Prats of Cos joined us personally for this dinner; in fact, we had moved the original date to January in order to coordinate with Jean-Guillaume’s schedule. There is probably only one man in the wine industry who could empathize with the day of which I was in the midst, and that would be Jean-Guillaume. We must be distant cousins, as my middle name is also William. He is a true ambassador for Bordeaux, dare I say ‘the’ ambassador. He knows every country, every city, every market for Bordeaux and has been to them all on multiple occasions. A typical itinerary might be Johannisberg to Dubai to Mumbai to Bangkok in five or six days or something extreme of the sorts. No one is out there like him, seemingly carrying all of Bordeaux on his shoulders. He has also made significant investments and improvements in his Chateau, which I recently visited in December. It is one of the most breathtaking visits in all of Bordeaux today, a marriage of custom and innovation, impressive being an understatement. He is truly one helping lead Bordeaux into the 21st Century. In case you haven’t noticed, I admire him a lot. I also admire his wines, speaking of which, the vertical. The first flight was comprised of ‘lesser’ yet fascinating vintages, many of which were far from lesser. We started with the 1933. It had a great nose of lovely, old, mature fruit with aromas of carob, cassis, sweet dust and spice. Its flavors were tender and old, and Bob admired its ‘cedar still coming through.’ Sweet rust flavors lingered lightly on its finish. While its nose was better than the palate, it was quite delightful and still (90) points, by a nose heh heh. The 1937 was oxidized, even though I could respect the architecture (DQ). All the wines came from one cellar from Northern Europe, a most reliable source of great wines. When wines are old, these things happen, and the only thing to do is move on. We moved on to the 1942, which Jean-Guillaume found ‘very tannic,’ in a positive way. Bob also admired its ‘structure,’ and its deep, dark fruit got a ‘superb’ as well. There were great nut aromas along with some fresh greens. The palate was rich, medium-bodied and possessed great balance. It was impressive, all the more so considering what was going on in France at the time. It flirted with 95 points (94+). The 1943 was equally as impressive, ‘similar to the ’42’ as Don observed, but seemingly taking it up a notch with its big, rich personality. I loved its coffee nose, which also had secondary rye aromas. There were great chocolate flavors on its big, rich palate, but as time went on, the ’42 was clearly the ‘43’s equal, if not better. Interestingly enough, the ’43 was preferred by all guests at a 2 to 1 margin, as did I, at first (94). The 1948 was another excellent nose, more wheaty with some underlying caramel. Old wood exerted itself aromatically. While leaner than the last two, the ’48 was still excellent, also wheaty on its palate. One found it ‘the best with food’ (93). Jean-Guillaume shared some of his wisdom and perspective about this first flight. ‘The beauty about this flight is that it has nothing to do with how the wines are made today. These were not made by winemakers; they were made by farmers. Many estates were very poorly run, and wine was often a secondary source of income. (The two war vintages) needed time to come around. There was no oak then, only old wood. No one could afford it like today.” The next flight had five wines, but only three were consumed. Alas, the 1893 and 1926 were oxidized (DQ). With 23 wines on tap, and some special showings already, no one was worried. Ironically, I had had the 1926 almost a year ago exactly from the very same cellar and gave it a respectable (94). It’s old wine, you never know. There’s quite a bit I drink that you never hear about, you know ;) The 1898 was toasty and elegant, suffering from a bit of sulfur at first, possibly reconditioned. There was lots of popcorn with a touch of honey there, and its palate was medium-bodied, honeyed in a light way, possessing flavors of old red fruits and books. Graceful and gorgeous, it was a setting sun of a wine (92). The 1911 had a fabulous nose, modest yet stylish. ‘Green tea’ and ‘vegetal’ components were noted, and I found light, dry weeds, cedar, fresh field and a touch of manure, in a good way. The wine was flat out delicious, and while its elegant personality might have been dwarfed a bit by its two bigger bookends, this was the wine of the flight of which I would want to drink a whole bottle first (93). The 1919 had an oaky nose full of wood, dominated by it. I wondered if this was left in the vat a bit too long, being just after World War I and such. It had good texture, but its flavors came across sickly to me, but it was ‘rich and full.’ There were a lot of 1919 fans over time, however, as it really integrated in the glass and put on weight, developing chocolate flavors and a smoky finish. It stayed woody at its core, though (92). Jean-Guillaume remarked how 1893 was the earliest harvest ever (in August!), and then went on to comment how Bordeaux has always been marked by eras of prosperity, followed by the exact opposite. From 1725-1855, Bordeaux struggled to make its way, but after the 1855 classification up until 1870, helped in part by the Paris Expo, Bordeaux became the great wine of the world. From 1870 until 1982, there were two World Wars, and decades such as the 1930s, 1970s and perhaps one or two more where there were no great vintages. From 1982 onwards, ‘great wines were made every year,’ and with 1982 began the age of America, led by the ascension of Robert Parker to the top of the wine critic world, beginning another age of prosperity. That prosperity has continued on until today, except beginning in 2005, the age of China began. It was a fascinating perspective. The next flight was perhaps the evening’s most fascinating, beginning with the always fascinating comparison of 1928 versus 1929. The 1928 had a big, deep nose and was clearly in a league of its own. There were great, dusty aromas of vanilla and rich berry fruit. Its palate was big and rich, delicious in every which way with long, long acidity. Still young, the 1928 was outstanding stuff, classic and ‘one of the greatest wines of the vintage,’ if he did say so himself :). Comparing the two vintages, Jean-Guillaume continued and admired the ‘freshness of the 1928, but the 1929 is slightly fatter’ (97). The 1929 was no slouch, either. Jean-Guillaume found the 1929 to be like ‘Pinot Noir,’ and that was an excellent descriptor for its silky, voluptuous style. The nose was incredibly seductive, super forward with its explosive aromatics of chocolate wafer and rosy red fruits. Bill also concurred, ‘more of a Burgundy nose.’ So was the palate! This was a delicious, special wine, round and lush with a kiss of vanilla on the finish that left me wanting more (96). The 1934 had a minty playfulness to its nose along with sexy spice. Bob found ‘cloves.’ I have always liked ‘34s, even if they were never outstanding, and this was a perfect example. The palate was clean, elegant and fresh, and there were nice dust and earth flavors. Jean-Guillaume found it ‘quite charming with great minerality.’ It was both pleasant and pleasing, ‘good wine,’ as Bob eloquently summed up (93). The 1947 was thankfully our last oxidized wine of the night (DQ), and we quickly moved on to the 1952, which had an oaty nose. There was nice cassis there and big volume. The palate had good richness and flesh, and its fruit was still wound. There were excellent tannins still from this tannic vintage, ‘what it is,’ as Jean-Guillaume succinctly put it (93). The four benchmark vintages of the post World War II era were next, beginning with the 1945, which had another great nose with lovely cherry fruit. There was a decadence to its sweetness, and purple joined the party along with baked bread. The palate was a little lighter than I expected but still nice, possessing dust, citrus and ‘a little cough syrup’ flavors. The 1945 was tasty and got better in the glass but still did not possess the density of many other ‘45s. Jean-Guillaume remarked how 1945 had very low yields due to the war (94). The 1959 was quite gamy, with aromas of anise and black licorice. There were jammy flavors of overripe plums and fig. I wasn’t sure if this bottle was 100% perfect, and Jean-Guillaume was definitely in the ‘have had a better bottle club’ (92?). The 1961 had what I call attic and cobweb in the nose, along with a touch of pungent, musky goodness. In the mouth, it was classic yet tender, tasty and long but not spectacular (93). The 1982, however, was spectacular and unexpectedly stole the show in this flight. This was a great ’82. I remember about six or seven years ago when the ’82 Cos stole the show from the ’82 Mouton in a blind head-to-head, and 1982 Mouton is certainly a great, great wine. It was good to see this vintage still exceeding its so-called bar. The nose was full of smoke, nuts, cassis, wafer, chocolate, vanilla and youth. The palate was big, rich, long and lush, both weighty and heavy yet still agile. Delicious flavors of rich milk chocolate lingered in the mouth, while Jean-Guillaume noted some ‘Indian curry spiciness.’ He concurred that this was a great bottle, putting it in context by calling it ‘a new point in a new cycle’ (97). The last flight was crowned the ‘Four Horsemen of the Last Decade’ and began, of course, with the 2000. My notes are a bit briefer for this flight, as it was that time of the night. Jean-Guillaume commented that ‘we are starting a new tasting with nothing in common with before.’ The 2000 was classic and clean, young and excellent but a bit less than the usual Cos standard, given the vintage. A bit of windex clouded its overall expression, and Jean-Guillaume conceded that it was the ‘weakest’ of the flight (93). The 2003 was typically forward and sweet, almost Napa-esque with its sweetness and richness. Lush and delicious, this was rock n’ roll Bordeaux (95). The 2005 was like a combination of the previous two wines and clearly the most concentrated. I loved its rich, chocolaty palate, which had the best of all words (96+). The controversial 2009 was deep, sweeter and also chocolaty, and I could see the now famous ‘Harlan’ reference. However, this was still Bordeaux, and it won’t crack up in ten years, that’s for sure. This wine definitely has huge potential, if it can get a breast reduction naturally over time ha ha (95+). While in general, I tend to prefer 2000 and its more classic style, as far as Cos goes, 2005 is definitely the one, and shows the greatness of that vintage. It has all the characteristics of a truly great vintage. It was ‘the hottest decade in human history,’ Jean-Guillaume noted. What about the upcoming decade? ‘2010 was the driest vintage ever, the vines were stressed from a lack of water (which usually produces great fruit, by the way). It is more 2005 than 2009; there will be extraordinary Pomerols in particular.’ Well, there you have it. It was a great evening featuring wines from a great Chateau that is led by a great man. Who’s on first? FIN JK back to top VINTAGE TASTINGS - Happy New Year 2011 1/3/2011 12:00:00 AM Every New Year’s Eve I find myself in the same place, year after year. No matter where I am in the world, I make sure that I am landing the afternoon of the 31st in New York City. And why wouldn’t I? When the King of Champagne comes calling for an evening of celebration, it is always wise to RSVP accordingly. It is safe to say that no one has opened up more great Champagne for more people than Rob. Maybe Juhlin has tasted more, and that’s a maybe, but I doubt he’s shared his portfolio as openly and effortlessly as the KOC. Now Big Boy isn’t exactly someone I would call introverted, but trust me when I tell you that’s exactly what you don’t want him to be when you are a guest in his home, on New Year’s Eve especially. I was there early, and some interesting and eclectic non-vintage – make that multi-vintage – Krugs started things off curiously, though not incredibly impressively. A case of halves of multi-vintage from the 1970s was a bit oxidized, bereft of bubbles, although its nose seduced at first. There were warm, inviting caramel and vanilla notes initially that soon waned into a thin palate lacking substance. The thing about multi-vintages is that they can age…and be spectacular, as Bruce the Returner reminded me. It’s just that these particular half-bottles weren’t. So I was quickly onto a multi-vintage Krug Rose from the 1980’s. This was delightful, clean and fresh, light yet with an extreme finish. It maintained delicious strawberry dust flavors, and I took a quick refill (93). A 1966 Bollinger led us into welcome vintage territory, but didn’t make me feel welcome with its simple and one-dimensional palate. It was mature and pleasant in the nose, but another wine that didn’t deliver upon the promise of what it should have/could have been (90?). The 1966 Billecart Salmon Cuvee Nicolas Francois set our course back on target with an intriguing nose of honey, vanilla and lilac, all deftly woven. There was nice sprite to its palate, with lean, sweet wheat flavors, almost yellow carob. Its finish was lemony, and Olof noted, ‘copper,’ although I wasn’t sure if he was talking about his investment strategy. Big Boy said something about a ten-case parcel, and I think he was talking about his investment strategy lol (94). Then came the magnums. Everything from here on out was served in magnum or jeroboam. We stayed on route ’66 with a 1966 Louis Roederer Cristal. It was another mature nose, in a heavy white molasses direction and not as expressive as old Cristals usually are. Its palate was more like it, still tasty with orange blossoms, game and a sweet, big, nutty finish. It clearly had the best density of anything so far, and the guy with the five Harleys that Vince McMahon was looking for took off his horns to declare that ‘the ’66 rocks.’ Nonetheless, it was an affected bottle, one that had the most sophisticated palates abuzz with discussion due to its two-sided story (95M-A). A 1971 Ruinart de Brimont Reserve de Vicomte was the first of our 1971s, as the rest of the evening would only be on the ‘71s and ‘61s. Actually, more ‘ones’ were planned in honor of 2011, but I only made it a little past 2AM. I need to get that report, come to think of it. I wasn’t sure if the Ruinart was a different Ruinart house, as the label was completely different than anything I had seen from Ruinart but apparently Brimont and its vineyards is the ancestral home of Ruinart. However, this was an entry-level vintage Champagne and not the clearly not the ‘tete de Cuvee.’ It had an apple-y nose, and while nice and smooth, it didn’t stand out. Bruce politically hailed it as ‘a good example of a great vintage’ (91M). The 1971 Dom Perignon began a monster streak of six killer Champagnes in a row from Big Boy, much like Derek Jeter delivers during World Series. Rob added six runs scored and twelve RBIs on top with the array that followed. The DP was classic with its sugary, vanilla wafer nose. It was rich and delicious, full of granulated sugar flavors to the point where I thought about it making one heck of a Bollini Royale or whatever mixed drinks they make with bubbly. I happen to always drink it straight, so I don’t really know these things. Although a touch sweet, all in all, it was outstanding (95M). The 1971 Dom Perignon Rose was an ‘infant’ per Lady Agah, the artist formerly known as the Angry Chick. It’s 2011, time to reinvent yourself, in case you didn’t get the memo. The DP Rose had wet earth aromas with light strawberry ones to match, both deep and coiled, seemingly ready to strike. Its palate was huge with ‘insane’ structure, with enough acidity for a college university chemistry program. Dry and powerful, this was a perfect bottle of this wine, taking off like a rocket ship on its jet-fueled finish. There were gorgeous flavors unfolding as it opened, particularly in the red and rose direction, with more earth as well. Lady Agah continued, ‘it’s like a red wine,’ paying its density and structure a compliment. It was a beautiful monster, indeed. I’m sure its score will improve with time, but it’s just not quite there yet, there being ‘best ever’ and 97 points and up (96+M). The magnum of 1971 Krug Collection answered the bell swinging, and was already there with a signature nose of mountainous, sweet and complex vanilla aromas. Super sexy white fruits and nuts provided the landscape on which they sat. The palate was another huge one, with big, rich and ‘wondrous’ fruit. Massive and long, its buttery fruit was just starting to show some skin in the mouth, and the skin wasn’t soft, but damn it felt good. It did open well, taking the definition of delicious just one step further with each sip (97M). The 1971 Salon was served a bit cold and left a few searching for more in it, but it was shut down like New York City during last week’s blizzard. The nose was intense and wound with stony, anise aromas, but it was unyielding. It felt like we were bothering it, disturbing it too soon, as its palate was incredibly shy and wound, at first tickled by a steak of wood. While rich, big and long, it was too tight. This particular magnum didn’t shine as brightly as Salon can, but it was still outstanding (95M). The next wine was so tasty that I invented a word in its honor, ‘yow.’ That’s yum and wow together, by the way. This magnum of 1961 Dom Perignon was an extremely rare, original and non ‘Wedding Cuvee’ - Charles’ and Diana’s, that is. The Royals snapped up most of the production for the wedding, a wise choice, indeed, as Bruce declared that this was ‘one of the Greatest Champagnes ever made,’ and he would know. I thought about it for a second, and after one sip, I concurred. 1961 has always blown me away, but I never put it in the context of the greatest of all-time until then. The nose was fantastic, with a wealth of gold encased in a young personality despite it being an original bottling. There was great fruit here, with none of the excessive sugar of the ’71. Its flavors were rich, big, bold and all balanced by superb acidity. Somehow, despite all of its flavor, it managed to retain a delicacy to its personality. Spectacular stuff (98M). The last Champagne that I had for the evening was the one served pre-stroke of midnight, a jeroboam of 1961 Pommery, sabered by Big Boy himself, which is no easy task for a jeroboam. Upon sabering the jero in one stroke, the King of Champagne announced, ‘there will be books about me when I’m dead.’ That’s Big Boy style :). Everyone was feeling great, and 2011 was upon us, and the Pommery held up its part of the bargain, delivering another special experience. Its fruit was sweet, yellow and dusty with aromas of almost lemon squares. It was both mature and young, in that sweet spot that I’d like to think I’ll be for another thirty plus years myself. The palate was special and outstanding, a great drink as pre-70s Pommerys usually are (95J). What would be a Big Boy way to ring in the New Year? Twin jeros of 1971 DRC, of course. Insert your own bomb sound here. Those that have known me for a long time know my love affair with 1971 DRCs is no secret. Just because it is my birth year is mere coincidence! The 1971 DRCs are spectacular, and these two jeros cemented that fact at the bottom of the Hudson River for any of those that denied it :). The 1971 DRC Richebourg began 2011 in fine fashion with an inviting nose of old yet fresh Burgundy fruit. Dank red fruits danced about in a muddy nose of tomato, rose and sea salt. The jero was a little dirty at first, but that is usually a good thing after midnight. The palate opened up into a saucy mouthful of red fruits with a light caramel coating. Long and distinguished, it was a special wine (95J). There was nowhere to go after the jeroboam of 1971 DRC La Tache was opened. It cornered us all, towering over us with its greatness. I have had the good fortune of having this wine about fifteen times in my life, and I cannot wait for the next fifteen. About ten years after having it for the first time, it is still every drop as good. Consistently 98 points ever since I met it, this jeroboam was no different. The breed, the stature, the depth of concentration and character in the nose…it could only be La Tache. Every positive descriptor you could ever say about an older Burgundy and about 1971 in general was right here. I will end this note by only saying that everyone should make sure they drink a good bottle of this before all is said and done (98J). There were a couple other big bottles too Big Boy for print, but by that point all was said and done. It was another memorable beginning to what will most certainly be another memorable year, and many thanks again to the most generous collector on Earth for sharing from his extraterrestrial cellar. FIN JK back to top VINTAGE TASTINGS - Cruising in HK 12/5/2010 12:00:00 AM Whenever I go to Hong Kong, there always seem to be enough great wines on the dinner table for their own section in the auction, and while it started innocently enough this past November with a couple of incredible bottles on Monday, by Tuesday evening we were in full cruise mode, with a dinner on the water in the middle of Hong Kong harbor. Spectacular stuff, indeed. We got off to a great start with a few bottles of 1997 Salon, and this was the best of the three times that I have had the pleasure of trying this newly-released bubbly so far. A remarkably tender and drinkable wine already, it got a little grassy in the glass. Drink this Salon over the next ten or twenty years while you let your 1996s age (93). We sat down to an official flight of Salon, beginning with the 1988 Salon. It had a nose of bread soaked in extra virgin olive oil, and Raymond noted ‘vinegar.’ Alex picked up on ‘biscuit’ amongst its pungent white fruits. While balanced, elegant and long, it was clean but lighter in character for me, although a couple people preferred it for the flight. The Poet noted its ‘nice finish but light body’ as well, and I felt disappointed by this bottle overall (91). The 1985 Salon stepped it up a couple notches with a more forward and expressive nose that possessed pungent lanolin, nutty white meats and fruits, as well as hanging game qualities. Its creamy palate was long and balanced, with Vincent agreeing, ‘full-bodied and rounded.’ Other quotes from the crowd included ‘peachy’ and ‘gamy/earthy.’ In the glass, the 1985 got all the more luscious and delicious (95+). 1983 is a vintage in Champagne where not everyone declared a vintage year, but this 1983 Salon made me wish more did. It was noticeably darkest in color. It was certainly a mature wine with the wild game character in full effect, supported by wet wool. The oily, rich palate was full of deliciously decadent white fruits, gently fallen from the tree after hanging a couple of days too long. There was great sweetness on its palate, with honey and oil everywhere, ready for a Girls Gone Wild DVD. The 1983 was definitely on a plateau, and Alex concurred, but it held remarkably well over time in the glass, which I didn’t expect. I doubt it will get any better, though, and I wouldn’t hesitate to enjoy it now (94). A flight of that Enlgish claret was next, starting with the elegant 1979 Palmer, which had a pretty nose. Fresh, clean fruit with nice, light cassis and a hint of slate danced softly in the nose while coffee snuck in the back door. Its palate was tender, smooth, balanced and classy, still youthful, and ‘fresh’ and ‘clean’ made their way into my notes again. It was chocolaty with a delicious hint of marzipan, but it didn’t hold that well in the glass, ie, drink up (93). The 1964 Palmer was like walking into a freshly painted room, then exiting and walking right into a barnyard filled with hay. Gil was ‘mushroom’ farming next door lol, and the palate was better than I expected given the fading reputation of the ’64 vintage in the Left Bank. The Poet remarked that he thought this wine ‘was picked after the rain,’ accounting for its better than expected quality. There was more slate on the palate, but still a tasty flash of fruit, along with chocolate flavors and a sawdusty finish. It held well, too (93). The legendary 1961 Palmer clearly had more density and volume than the others, with hints of wheat germ, forest and what can only be described as a cassis fountain of youth. The wine was absolutely delicious, and its acidity stood out like a center amongst point guards. A hint of tomato and much redder fruits rounded out this champion of a Margaux. Gil cooed, ‘there is nothing quite like when an old wine drinks young.’ Amen (97). We got even older with a great bottle of 1929 Latour. It had a reserved nose, unfolding into cedar, charcoal, tobacco and chunky fruit. The palate was rich and still young, eliciting a few wows from the crowd. There was this sexy, raspberry kink and a ‘beetroot sappiness’ per Alex. Creamy and fleshy, this delicious and outstanding Latour had wild cherry and cigar flavors finishing it off. What was most remarkable was that it held well in the glass, too (96). The 1957 Latour had a gorgeous nose for a not so wildly-regarded vintage, possessing the walnuts, chocolate, cassis and class reminiscent of ’59. The nose was classic in every regard. The palate was lean but still pretty, and its acidity held things together on the slaty finish. A little dill crept in, and the Poet noted ‘ginger flowers’ (92). The 1962 Latour was from another underrated vintage, a ‘shadow’ year hidden behind the great 1961, and it had another great nose, milder and milky. It was both a little floral and a little stinky, but then the cedar took over with a smokehouse feel. The fruit was lean at first, but it gained density in the glass, particularly on its thick, cedary finish (93). Things got stinkier with the 1970 Latour, which can be that way. It was grassy and needed extra air for the wet sheep to dry off their coats, but once it was worked out (ie aired and swirled), it was better. There was still a pleasant wine here, with nice wafer and chocolate flavors and a balanced, lightly gritty finish. It was lighter than I remembered, however. It would prove to be better out of double magnum in Rio de Janeiro last week, but that’s for another article (93). We switched gears to a 1949 Ausone. It made everyone take notice with its youthful and remarkable nose. Charles summed it up aptly, ‘Absolutely incredible, so exotic with aromas you don’t expect.’ Vincent continued the travel theme with, ‘ginger, leather and Sri Lankan jasmine.’ This great Ausone was eerily transcendent and complex with ripe, rich red fruits and a kinky, sweet sexiness that just wouldn’t quit. It ended up capturing the most first place votes on the evening, although there were a lot of diverging opinions on that topic (96). The 1948 Margaux was like a coffee shop in Holland with marijuana and old money notes in its nose. Oatmeal was the healthy side of its herbal edge. The palate was fleshy with hints of exotic fruits, and there was a gorgeous honeyed glaze to its finish. I was quite impressed with this wine, which showed better than I thought it would, and it received a surprising number of first-place votes as well (94). We ended this fabulous evening with a pair of Burgundies, beginning with a 1966 Mommesin Clos de Tart, which took us into the wild open with grainy and gamy aromas. It was rich and fleshy with almost a touch of cough syrup. ‘Great freshness and finish,’ proclaimed Charles, and it was at least one person’s favorite wine, as you can’t keep those Burg men down! It was a touch gamy for me to be outstanding, but close (94). The 1966 Vogue Musigny Vieilles Vignes suffered slightly in comparison to the Clos de Tart and was a touch oaky and very reductive on the nose. The palate was better and had good density but was a touch stewy. This was clearly not a perfect bottle, but it could not take away from our perfect night (92A). We had such a great night that a couple nights later, we had to do it again, with a different set of wines, of course. A magnum of 1981 Krug Collection got us off to a great start with a nose full of vanilla bean and toasty oak. The palate was a touch lean at first, still incredibly racy and youthful, but the honey flavors got spicier and fuller by the time the evening finished. All in all, it was a tasty and impressive wine (94+M). The 1969 Krug Collection magnum had a similar personality that was more on the cola side of things, and its vanilla qualities in the nose were much more forward, so forward that I started blushing! In the mouth, the wine was still very fresh and firm, with tender fruits and an edgy Krug Collection, rocket-like finish. Some oxygen mellowed the wine out decadently; this was a complete wine, as it really came together in the glass, becoming creamier and exceptionally delicious (96M). A trio of Palmers commenced with a gorgeous 1955 Palmer. The enticing nose plied with perfume, sweet corns and delicate fruit, leading to a rich palate of chocolate and caramel flavors, held together by stylized structure. This was a balanced and elegant older wine that seemed to pick up steam over time, and Michael noted that it was ‘surprisingly fresh.’ He would know, as he is one of HK’s best drinkers and palates, so much so I have crowned him ‘Mr. Magic’ (95)! The 1982 Palmer was classic all around and had a lovely cassis nose with a touch of dustiness. The palate was softer than expected, creamy and almost toasty, turning a bit dirty in a good way. The finish was balanced and smooth, but the nose was the better part of this for now (93). The 1983 Palmer was rather grassy and almost stinky on the nose, but the palate was cleaner and its finish even better with great length and structure. The plum fruits were carefully concealed by finely delineated tannins. The 1982 was more of a now wine, but everyone could see the ’83 getting better with time (94). We were then privileged to have an exceptional bottle of 1952 Latour. The nose was a perfect combination of chocolate, walnut, pencil and slate. The long, zippy tannins and acidity kept this wine singing in the mouth and throughout the night. It was a spectacular wine with a long, nervy finish, possessing great tension and balance - simply great (96)! The 1952 La Mission Haut Brion was not a perfect bottle, but you could see a great wine underneath its oxidized qualities. There were very mature prunes and dates and touch of Madeira and old chocolate pudding. It would have probably been 95+ points if a completely sound bottle. The surprise of the evening was a very fresh and pleasant 1967 Mouton Rothschild, which had nice spice once its touch of Windex blew off. The palate was lean, but still a fighting machine. It was a balanced and tasty wine with a gently lingering finish. It just goes to show that great producers make good, age-worthy wines every vintage (92+). The generally, more highly regarded 1966 Mouton Rothschild suffered slightly in comparison. It was a sound bottle but not the best example of this wine that I have had. A slightly muddy, chocolaty nose was lightened by herbal kisses and a hint of wood. Lean, clean and fresh, but ultimately simple, it left me wanting something more (90). The 1961 Mouton Rothschild lived up to the billing of a legendary vintage and had an outstanding nose of tobacco, chocolate, dry-aged meat and clover honey. A long and elegant structure held the rich, fleshy flavors together. This was clearly the wine of the night, and a superlative example of this great Chateau (97). In comparison to the ‘61, the 1982 Mouton Rothschild seemed like a barrel sample or an unruly child. Little brother had a long way to go, even though there was massive concentration for an ’82. It’s tough to drink a ‘young’ wine after several perfectly mature ones, but there was still clearly a lot of upside here, and I could not argue with anyone who says that Mouton was the best First Growth of this legendary vintage (96+). We again ended with a pair of Burgundies, this time some 1985s, and both DRCs. The 1985 DRC Romanee St. Vivant had beautiful menthol aromas, almost vitamin C too, and a rose hip nose that got spicier and more beef bouillon-y. The creamy, ripe palate had a touch of brett and got a little dirtier as time went on (94). The 1985 DRC Richebourg was a bigger wine with brighter acidity, which was a good thing, as I was getting dimmer at this point! It was a beefy wine with a pleasant autumnal glaze, picking up more mint. Mr. Magic was ‘liking the long finish’ as was I, and I was officially finished (95+). Time to do it again! FIN JK back to top VINTAGE TASTINGS - The 45 Petrus 11/11/2010 12:00:00 AM For many years now, I have heard the story of this particular batch of 1945 Petrus. When Wilf Jaeger tells you that it is the best bottle that he’s ever had, it’s hard not to listen. It just so happens this batch rested comfortably in the ‘Imperial Cellar’ for many years, and for most of those many years I had to hear Wilf and Eric tell me over and over how great it was, digging my desire a little bit deeper with each recollection of their magical evening, which also saw 1945 Trotanoy as a distinguished runner-up. Low and behold, the last four bottles turned up in our record-setting May auction, and immediately after the sale, I made my move on the buyer, who happened to be the top buyer of the sale. I asked if we could share one together, my treat, as I had to have this bottle before it disappeared forever like that girl you never asked out in high school. I was determined for that not to happen again. Call me a cork dork if you must :). My first evening in Hong Kong this past week saw the 1945 Petrus make its way to the dinner table, at long last. First, we started with a 1955 Leroy Mazis Chambertin, a generous contribution from my newfound best friend. The Leroy had a truffly, mushroomy, sous bois nose at first, with some dirty earth and soupy bouillon followed by secondary rose and citrus aromas. Its acidity was still extraordinary, and my host told me after my first sip the story of how one evening, this bottle showed even better than all the top Bordeaux, including a 1947 Cheval Blanc. ‘The power of Burgundy,’ I wrote to myself. The wine got better and better with each sip, shedding some of its dirt to reveal chocolaty flavors with borders of various nuts. Hints of tomato joined the trifecta of citrus, chocolate and earth flavors, and the wine fleshed out in the glass as well. However, it couldn’t top the Bordeaux that would follow on this night, and possibly even suffered a point accordingly (94). Five years in my making, and sixty-five years in the bottle, it was finally time for this 1945 Petrus. This was an original, no doubt about it bottle. Perfection came to mind upon first whiff, as its nose was a kaleidoscope of greatness, as if every great quality from all the Pomerols I’ve ever had were right there in my glass. Aromas of plum, chocolate and royal garden marched into my nose with style and precision. Fine was an understatement, as its elegance and breed were of an Olympic equestrian level, carrying over to its fruit, which was elegant but at the same time beyond wealthy. Its concentration was golden, as in bars not bracelets. I could not get over its density, both in the nose and on the palate. The 1945 was all that and then some, and it seduced me like a gorgeous woman whispering in my ear, ‘I’ll be whatever you want me to be.’ Its color was still dark and vibrant; this wine could last another fifty years without issue. Its royal garden qualities upgraded to Versailles status, and flavors of mocha abounded on its dense and deft palate, with nice traces of chalk on its finish. There were pinches of wild herbs emerging, in a rosemary meets wheat way, as well as a baked goodness in a coconut direction, but not quite coconut. Our sommelier noted, ‘strawberry.’ The chef at Otto E Mezzo, Hong Kong’s version of Mario Batali, gushed that it was ‘so young and so healthy.’ What was so great about this bottle, and this vintage for the Right Bank in general, is that it still possessed a tension to its fruit, unlike 1947, which produced concentrated and much sweeter wines in general. I can only hope to taste this nectar again in my lifetime, but I strongly suspect that it will be difficult to achieve the heights that this bottle achieved. It touched my soul (99+). It was a nice warm-up for the week that followed, a casual Monday that was anything but. It’s Hong Kong, they drink it. FIN JK back to top VINTAGE TASTINGS - The Forbidden Cellar 10/4/2010 12:00:00 AM >Far, far away in a remote corner of the world lies a cellar so incredible, so deep and so massive that only one word could describe it – forbidden. Most mortals will never get to sample even a handful of the wines buried away in this constantly growing collection. 100,000 bottles is a very conservative estimate, but even more impressive than the quantity was the quality of what I experienced. The dinner I had recently was worth a lifetime of travel; thankfully, I didn’t need a visa, and diplomatic immunity was provided. History often rewrites itself, but this was an evening which could never be changed. Everything was perfect; the wine, the food, the company - is there anything else that life requires? As always, Champagne was the way with which we started, beginning with a NV Jacques Selosses Contraste Brut. Selosses is a true grower champagne and also biodynamic, I was told. The Contraste was aggressive in its nose in an alluring fashion. The palate was full bodied, clearly an ode to its 100% pinot noir composition. Big and brawny, it pleasingly overflowed with fresh citrus and racy strawberry flavors. I recently did an evening of Selosses Champagnes, over twenty-five of them as a matter of fact. We had multiple versions of Contraste (ie different disgorgement dates), as well as other MV (multi-vintage) Selosses concoctions, and my assessment of them is that these MV bottlings don’t improve with age. They are delicious, unique and enjoyable right away, but the vintage Champagnes are the ones that improve in extraordinary fashion. Unfortunately, there are so few of the vintage bottlings that the world doesn’t really know Selosses. He is a true Champagne genius, but his insistence on making the majority of his bottlings solera-style and multi-vintage is hurting his legacy and denying much of the world his brilliance (93). A rare 1990 Dom Perignon Reserve de l’Abbaye drew us deeper into this mysterious evening. I had no idea what was in store upon my arrival, and I certainly had no idea what this bottling was. I soon learned that it was a special bottling from Moet specifically for the tastes of the Japanese market. On a sliding ‘mousse’ scale, this was less bubbly than most and felt on the light side. It was clean and sweeter in a way that reminded me of a cremant style, but it was a bit saccharin-y. We clinked our glasses together in appreciation of the experience (90). There were only two white Burgundies in our lineup, but it might as well have only been one. Our first was one from a master, a wine that even I rarely encounter. I think I have had this wine on only two other occasions, and that includes every vintage ever made. There is only one barrel made of this wine every year, and the 1992 Leflaive Montrachet lived up to the hype. While many 1992s are riding off into the sunset, this 1992 was still ascending. It had an amazing nose that gave off seductive signals of butter, citrus and yeast. Smoke and exotic spice followed. Its spice qualities kept unfolding, so diverse that this wine was worthy of its own supermarket section. This was a mesmerizing Montrachet that was rich, clean and vivacious. There is no doubt that Leflaive is the king of the ring for the 1992 vintage, make that queen. The acidity was still fresh, and this thick, attention-grabbing wine just kept getting better and better and better and better (98). With a 1961 Palmer, the gates of Bordeaux were thrust open. Our host called it ‘very Burgundian,’ and indeed it was. Its fruit was so sensual and tender, with citrus, cherry and carob each content with their own space on this classic wine’s aroma wheel. On the palate, this bottle had a soft yet voluptuous nature to it with smooth flavors of carob, citrus, and tenderly aged fruit. It was a bit easier than I remembered this wine being but still divine. The effects of our host’s generous hospitality were comfortably sinking in by now (95). We were treated to another wine from this legendary vintage, this time a 1961 Haut Brion. Perfection came to mind, as this bottle was as perfect as it could be. Of course, those of you that have been reading my notes for many years know that I only believe in the pursuit of perfection, as opposed to perfection itself. This bottle was perfect in that I do not think more enjoyment could be had from any bottle of this wine, anywhere/anyhow. Aromas sprang from the glass; this was oozing coffee, chocolate, carob, and wafer. There was also great spice, and classic yet light slate and gravel to this rich, saucy nose. Velvety richness followed suit on the palate, which was delectably dense and had a mouthfeel that made me moan in ecstasy. Damn, this was good and ‘perfect,’ too (98). We had forgotten our other 1992 white, a 1992 Jadot Chevalier Montrachet Demoiselles. It served the purpose of a refreshing, midday shower, preparing us for the rest of our meal, also the rest of our day. Its nose gave off a very exotic perfume of floral spice, citrus and something reminiscent of Chinese tea and fortune cookies. The palate was framed with stone roses around its edges, finishing with an interwoven stream of honey and delicate tropical fruit (93). We had to have at least one red Burgundy on this increasingly magical evening, so why not a 1966 DRC La Tache. True to form, it was a touch dirty as ’66 LT is prone to be. While a bit earthy, the nose was still fabulous and provided rich tomato, spice, leather and chocolaty aromas. Flavors of cherry oil and assorted nuts lingered, and this class act’s finish was endearing (95). The last two wines of our evening were perfect strangers, brought together by fate and the Forbidden Cellar. We soared to new heights with the 1945 Mouton Rothschild that followed. This was everything this bottle was supposed to be, as sexy as sexy can be. Menthol, mint, and olive wafted from its beguiling nose. The palate was rich yet so smooth. It wowed with its cedar spice. It was delicate yet forceful, with light leather flavors. Meaty and spectacular, this wine was as rewarding as they come, delivering rich and fleshy caramel flavors on the finish with divine forest edges. It was absolutely delicious, an anywhere, anytime bottle (99). There aren’t many wines that can follow a ’45 Mouton in fine fashion, but that’s exactly what the 1961 Jaboulet Hermitage La Chapelle did. Wow, I had finally had this great wine again. The nose on this thoroughbred had coffee and royal garden intermingled with Indian spice and sumptuous dark chocolate. The palate was rich and thick with loads and layers of roasted black and purple fruit flavors. Unique oil and citrus qualities tickled on its long, lingering finish. It took the concentration up a notch. Yummmmm (99). Every bottle was in great condition and delivered everything one could want from these wines. While there are no plans for the Forbidden Cellar to sell anytime soon, I can safely say that I will be visiting it often. But you’ll have to kill me first before I let you know where it is! FIN JK back to top VINTAGE TASTINGS - From The East 9/16/2010 12:00:00 AM It is another exciting weekend here in Hong Kong. This September sale is a microcosm for the Acker world right now, East meeting West, two of the greatest cellars from opposite sides of the world coming together in one spectacular auction. Last night, we celebrated with wines from our ‘East’ collection, what is to our knowledge the largest collection of wine ever offered from a Chinese collector. Times they are a changin’, and we are excited to be at the forefront of it all. We had three incredible Champagnes as cocktails, a 1976 Lanson (94), 1961 Mumm’s (94) and a 1929 Pommery. The Lanson and Mumm’s were both excellent and still fresh, but the Pommery was an out-of-body experience. There were no bubbles left in this magical Champagne, but that didn’t matter. This was like a great old Montrachet, except better. It was so rich yet so tender, voluptuous yet svelte, rich yet delicate. Its sweetness was perfect, and it lingered like a great sunset. Whoever thinks Champagne cannot age as long as red wine needs to have a bottle of this. It was unreal (98). We sat down to some reds, where we had a Noah’s Ark procession of First Growths. We began with 1989 Haut Brion, which is the equivalent of Albert Pujols batting leadoff. I happened to have this wine last week as well (I love it when that happens), and both bottles were equally great. Great was actually an understatement. How’s this for a different statement – when all is said and done, the 1989 Haut Brion could possibly be the greatest First Growth ever made, and how ironic would that be since Haut Brion tends to lag a little behind the other Firsts as far as overall perception. The 1989 was fabulous with aromas of peanut, olive and densely packed cassis fruit. It was chewy, nutty and long, tickling my tongue and warming my soul. Its balance and length defined ‘thoroughbred.’ The greatest thing about this wine is that it has never shut down; it has always been incredible (99). The 1982 Haut Brion was outstanding but no match for the 1989. There was a bit more green in its nose, along with what I call ‘fireplace’ aromas. Cinnamon and crackling wood danced about. The palate was long with flavors of ceramic, spice and more cinnamon, along with ‘jasmine’ per The Poet. It was just a touch out of balance on its finish, although I think it was only made evident by the 1989’s near-perfection (95). 1982 Latour transitioned us to Pauillac, and also offered a 1982 comparison. Its deep, dark, brooding nose spoke seriously, and aromas of minerals and walnuts were like armed guards for this important wine. Its nose was like a black forest of fruit, and it was perfectly toasted. The palate was long, cedary and clearly special, with outstanding acidity. Its finish was thick and oh so long, still a bit closed but showing nothing but strength. Despite its strength, it was also superbly fine in its length. It was another world-class claret (98+). The 1990 Latour was quite the contrast to the 1982. It has always been an open and flamboyant Latour, one that I have consistently loved. Its nose was seductive, full of olives and flesh. Its palate was a bit beany at first, not overly though. This bottle was a bit more tannic than I remember the last couple of occasions that I have had it. There were rich, olive flavors and kinky, wild fruit. While the 1982 was a textbook Latour fit for a University degree, the 1990 wanted to party all night long (96). 1990 Margaux was next, are you figuring out the path to the puzzle? This was a thrilling bottle of 1990, which has been inconsistent and sometimes disappointing. This bottle was open and singing. Vincent found it ‘very elegant and silky.’ It had a pinch of green bean in what can best be described as ‘green game.’ It was a good thing. The nose was so fine it would make any construction worker whistle. The palate was long and fine as well, but there was still meat on these bones, and its acidity was superb (96). The 1996 Margaux that followed was so different in style. The ’96 jumped out of the glass with lots of powerful chocolate and caramel, followed by a hint of medicine, which became amplified with some time. However, the medicine came and thankfully went. There were loads of tannins and alcohol here. The 1996 was incredibly long, but a bit dormant at the moment (95+). Enter 1996 Lafite Rothschild. If there is a vintage of Lafite that is undervalued, it is certainly the 1996. I have always loved this Lafite and found it to be amongst their finest vintages…ever. The nose was full of deep, dark cassisy fruit. The Poet marveled at its concentration, also finding its ‘tannins so fresh.’ This wine was red carpet fabulous. An exotic mix of deep bouillon, chalkboard and dank fruit made for a mouthwatering mix (98). The 1986 Lafite Rothschild was much finer than the 1996. There was nice spice and lots of cedar in its nose. It was long, fine and with great acidity, but it seemed minor after the major 1996 (94). The 1986 Mouton Rothschild brought it back up a level, or three. It was indeed great, very classic but also smoky. Its fruit was inky and frighteningly young, almost 1996 Lafite-ish. The palate was thick and tannic, also inky. This wine is a monster that will outlive everything else from the vintage, and many younger ones, too (97+). 1995 Mouton Rotschild snuck in our evening thanks to the 1995 Le Pin that followed. Let me know if you don’t understand why! It was clean and elegant, but a different tier than the rest of the wines on this starry night. I couldn’t spend too much time with it (93). The 1995 Le Pin was kinky and open, full of coconut, plum and fig in its nose. It was exotic as usual, a bit smoky, like Kobe beef meets royal garden. It gave me a deep, wet kiss of chocolate, and the palate was equally as kinky. Vincent found it ‘similar to Screaming Eagle, I call it a steel magnolia, this beautiful, scented steel nose.’ I was still on my kinky kick, but that is nothing new (94). We closed this magical evening with something with a little more bottle age, a 1970 Petrus. It had that same figgy, coconutty kink as the Le Pin, along with chocolate and rye bread aromas. The aromas then morphed into an incredible blue cheese quality that was confirmed by Sebastien, our token Frenchman. We could taste the blue cheese too! It was quite cheesy, but sooooo good. It was rich and delicious, ‘not a fair fight,’ due to the extra age. Someone noted ‘minty chocolate’ (95). It was an incredible night from an incredible cellar. Tonight, we celebrate the West, stay tuned… FIN JK back to top VINTAGE TASTINGS - Right Bank Showdown 8/26/2010 12:00:00 AM Hey everyone, hope your summer was both relaxing and rewarding. I know it’s been a while since I wrote some solid tasting notes, apologies. I most definitely have been drinking, so don’t cry for me just yet. When you do as much business in six months as you did in the previous twelve, it’s a bit intense. And this Fall is going to be pretty close as well. Long live wine. A record setting year is worthy of numerous recordable events full of long-lived wines, and I will be catching up a lot on the year’s most noteworthy events in the coming weeks. For no particular reason, I will begin with a lunch in Hong Kong. This was a lunch to which I was looking very forward, a showdown between the Right Bank’s five biggest names from three consecutive vintages, 2000, 2001 and 2002. The 2002 Cheval Blanc began with a beautiful nose. It immediately struck Gil and I that 2002 was a delightful ‘drinking’ vintage, aka a vintage that drinks well in its youth. Some immediate satisfaction can be a good thing. Any top Chateau in Bordeaux will make wines that age twenty years, no matter what the quality of the vintage, and that was quite evident with the ’02 Cheval. It had a great nose full of cedar, nuts, smoke, minerals and a hint of glaze. Olive crept out as well. The palate had nice flesh and flavors of green bean and stalk. It was pleasant, balanced and long. It gained in the glass and closed the initial gap between it and the 2001, which was still the better wine (93). The 2001 Cheval Blanc was more aromatic and perfumed, dancing in the nose with its great floral components. It was open and saucy, layered with enthusiastic sprinkles of spice. The palate came across just as densely as the nose indicated. It was chunky, chocolaty and more concentrated than the 2002. Vincent, aka ‘The Poet’ remarked, ‘its structure is so good, yet it’s also silkier than the 2000.’ Gil was energetically in the 2001 camp already (94). 2000 Cheval Blanc was the only wine that could finish this flight properly, and indeed it did. The level of freshness and depth was miles ahead of the previous two, its freshness ahead in a penetrating way. It was so fine and long. I loved the depth in the nose, where multiple flavors were singing loudly. Its rich, long palate was both fine and deep, with an edgy, sandy swagger. ‘Elegant, fine, long, fine, fresh’ all appeared repeatedly in my notes. Its finish had a lift that the others didn’t. The Poet decreed, ‘fantastic tannins, and the fruit is there’ (96). It was now Ausone’s turn, beginning with the 2002 Ausone. The nose was much more concentrated, really dense, rich and saucy. There was a little animal and horse around the edges, and also a quality that was not dill, not citrus and not rosemary, but somehow a hybrid of the three. It was a big wine in the mouth, heavy, concentrated and thick. I preferred the Cheval, as the Ausone was drier and cedary, and it also had thinner flavors. Gil commented, ‘freshly carved roast beef’ but also conceded a ‘watery element in the middle.’ Vincent added, ‘fresh water lilies’ (91). Gil opened the discussion on the 2001 Ausone with ‘back road Pennsylvania iron works deer hunter,’ perhaps reminiscing about his youth :). I liked the ‘01 much more, as it was more classic in the nose, full of ceramic crispness as well as great length and penetration. Aromas of mint, fir and chocolate glaze danced around its meaty core. The palate was fine, stylish and long, possessing that Cheval elegance despite it being all Ausone. It was crisp but also possessed that same cedary flavor that marred the ’02, although the ’01 kept it more in check (93). The 2000 Ausone was likened to a ‘Tahiti beach’ with its very exotic nose. There were definite sunscreen and cocoa butter aromas, wrapped around a cedary centerpoint. While it was clearly the best of the three wines, all of the Ausones were quite similar in their personality and power, more similar than I would have expected given the diversity of style of these three consecutive vintages. Much to my surprise, three out of four in attendance preferred the Ausone to the Cheval! I was a bit surprised, as I clearly preferred the Cheval across the board (94). While Ausone took an early lead amongst the awakening palates of our group, I was pretty sure that would change quickly, as flights of Lafleur, Petrus and Le Pin were next. The 2002 Lafleur was fresh and a real change of pace, clearly from a different territory. Gil observed ‘earthiness’ and ‘vertesse,’ aka a slight green. Alex noted ‘white pepper.’ It had a framework of cedar around a super deep plummy core. The Poet admired the ‘freshness of earth’ that climbed out of the terroir into our glasses. Its palate was thick, possessing hints of coffee grinds. This first Lafleur was long, earthy, full and big, and the least approachable 2002 so far. Its acidity really lingered; it possessed grip without length of tannins, however. ‘Rust’ came from the crowd. I vascillated between 92 and 93 points (92+). The 2001 Lafleur had a kinky nose, very tropical with its sweet orange, citrus, passion and wild fruit aromas. I also loved the many shades of purple in its nose, which were deep and plentiful. The palate was rich, but more shut down than I remember. It was cleaner than the 2002, and despite it being shut down on the palate (for now), it was all there. The acidity lifted the wine up after some time, allowing a peek into what will be (95). The 2000 Lafleur was a WOW wine, clearly the most layered and exotic. The nose was deep and thick, a veritable Pomerol phenomenon. Hints of beef and plum rounded out its chunky soup nose. The 2000’s palate was also a bit shut down, but the 2000 couldn’t be contained like the ‘01. Rich, long and great, the ’00 possessed delectable supporting flavors of citrus, beef and dust. It told a glorious, long story on the finish, going on and on so elegantly. ‘Wow’ graced my notes again, along with a ‘roasted/grilled goodness.’ The 2000 Lafleur was strength without muscle, powerful yet deft, with the potential to age for decades (97). The Petrus was certainly not afraid of the big, bad Lafleur, and the 2002 Petrus quickly showed why. It was the best of the 2002 bunch (what else is new). Fresh aromas of garden tickled my nose at first. It seemingly had great everything - fruit, spice, tang, sweet citrus, a hint of game and a ‘so sexy’ perfume. Alex agreed with me, hailing it ‘clearly the best of 02.’ Flavors of garden, pungent flower and great spice rounded out this beauty (94). The 2001 Petrus was reserved and stylish. Gil was taken aback by its depth, declaring, ‘my word’ about it. There was more noticeable tannin here, yet it was still so fine. The 2002 was more showy, but the ’01 kept getting finer, like a beautiful woman slowly walking towards you from afar. Aromas of chocolate and secondary candle wax stood out, and the alcohol was also more noticeable. It got sweeter in the glass, and there was no doubting its greatness and potential. The 2002 was closer in quality than expected, though (95). The 2000 Petrus was the wine of the day so far, without a doubt. There was so much more concentration than anything else. There were lots of wows, oohs and aahs around the room. It was deep with big fruit, like this exotic sweet berry oatmeal that said good morning in the perfect way on the perfect day. It was long and sexy with a beefy edge, and the wine didn’t budge in the glass, holding its ground longer than I could keep it out of my mouth (99). Le Pin was the way we decided to end our afternoon, and the 2002 Le Pin jumped out of the glass with its tropical, exotic and unique personality. Its nose was penetrating and exciting. Then again, isn’t penetration always exciting? There were lots of dust, plum, citrus and spice aromas. The palate possessed richness and concentration, as well as exotic, sweet, fleshy, gorgeous, sexy flavors. Gil found it ‘more powerful’ and observed that it had the ‘longest time out of the bottle’ as well, perhaps opening its doors a bit more than those of the wines served earlier. The ’02 Le Pin was definitely singing and another impressively approachable 2002 (93). My notes were starting to wane, and shockingly so did the last two wines. The 2001 Le Pin was spicy and fresh, possessing that flowery, exotic style, with a hint more wood than the 2002. I didn’t like the ‘01 at all after the ’02; it was thinner and simple (91?). The 2000 Le Pin was no amazing grace either. Its nose was a combination of cat box and mango juice, and not much more. It was smooth and a bit kinky, but either the bottle was completely shut down or ‘off.’ Feng Shui Tony also found it ‘very disappointing’ (90?). While the finish was a bit anti-climactic, this tasting was quite dramatic overall. It was a glimpse into early greatness, a fascinating comparison of both producer and vintage. In the end, almost 3 out of 5 tasters preferred Petrus. Some things never change. FIN JK back to top VINTAGE TASTINGS - A Closer Look at the Imperial Cellar 5/27/2010 12:00:00 AM A Closer Look at the Imperial Cellar When something of this magnitude occurs, people love to talk, so I thought I would speak a bit more myself about the Imperial Cellar and what went into making a catalogue of this magnitude. We always take the utmost care in our consignment process, but in order to produce the greatest wine sale in Asian history, it was decided to take near-extreme measures to ensure that only the top quality was represented in a carefully constructed, detailed catalogue. It also made me, as a merchant, comfortable that I would be selling a product that not only meets, but indeed exceeds the market’s standards and expectations. For a long time, I have been bothering the owner of the Imperial Cellar to sell from his collection; the response was always the same, ‘No, I am not selling.’ Again and again I would knock on the door, a bit louder each time. The answer was again the same, occasionally I would get, ‘I really like you, but I am not selling!’ A glass or ten was shared over the period of a couple years, and then one day I received an answer to my question that I no longer expected, ‘Ok, I will sell some.’ It was our vision to produce the greatest auction catalogue ever produced. This was no easy task. First, the collection had to be appraised. Weeks of work went into carefully analyzing recent market trends and results in the beginning, and an appraisal was generated towards the end of 2009. Three months later, with so much change and growth taking place in the marketplace, I did it again. For an entire week, I sat glued to my computer, day and night, capturing the market in real-time. It was a massive amount of data. I most definitely needed a drink every night that week! Then it came time to go on location and inventory the cellar firsthand. A first pass was done on all the older and most significant wines by one of our independent consultants. I made a similar pass-through myself. I catalogued the most important wines first-hand. Once the wines were shipped back to New York, we had another third party consultant look at the wines to validate our work on the 19,000+ bottles. I could not be more confident in what is on offer. The owner of the Imperial Cellar was insistent that every bottle represent the highest quality possible out of his cellar, which is why we went through this extensive and additional process.   Working on the catalog was my version of giving birth this year, and the research put into it was like no other before. Crafting the sale order felt like my greatest masterpiece, and the introductions that came along with them took multiple rounds of edits and revisions. It is something of which I am very proud.