VINTAGE TASTINGS - Hong Kong Killers

I know I never got to writing up my last trip to HK in November, which included numerous great events and wines, so we will keep that in the vault for now. This past January, Hong Kong kicked off 2010 in fine fashion, not only on the sales floor, but also on the dinner table.

I actually missed my flight out to Hong Kong. I had planned my trip perfectly. The flight was 9:20AM, and the previous night I stayed up working with Samantha until 3am on the next HK catalog. Everyone else was already on their way. I slept about three hours, gathered my belongings and headed to the airport on schedule. If I could sleep shortly after take off, it would put me on HK time rather effectively, and some Ambien was in my pocket ready to assist. There was one small glitch; I forgot my passport. Yes, those three-hour nights of sleep after a night of work overload can cause small oversights. Fortunately, there was another flight at 2pm, and my plan was able to stay fairly on course, albeit delayed.

I arrived in Hong Kong around 6pm local time, and I had dinner plans with Hong Kong’s version of the Good Doctor. By the time I got out of the airport and freshened up, I was a bit late, so I missed the 1996 Salon. Something tells me it was still one of the best young Champagnes that I have ever had. Fortunately, I didn’t miss any other wines, as the lineup was fantastic. The Good Doctor definitely had the perfect remedies for any jet lag I might have been suffering. Not only were there great wines, but I was also treated to an incredible, home-cooked Shanghainese-style dinner, one of the best Chinese meals that I have ever had.

We started at the table with a 2004 Drouhin Montrachet Marquis de Laguiche. The Drouhin had a classy nose of sweet butter, yellow fruits, corn, minerals, wheat and caramel. The palate was beautiful, quite elegant for Montrachet, long and smooth. Master Vincent admired its ‘very long’ qualities, and there was nice grain on its finish. Wendy, the Angry Chick, was along for the ride and observed, ‘fresh lavender,’ and its palate got smokier in the glass (94).

The Good Doctor offered up some 1998 Cheval Blanc, and why not. He has over 50 cases of it. Have I mentioned how they like to drink it in Hong Kong? The nose on the Cheval was tight yet sexy, its great t ‘n a slowly unwinding in a seductive manner. It was feminine yet full, possessing lots of red fruits, peanut, wintergreen and ‘still very fresh tannins,’ per the Master. There was great spice in the nose, but the palate was still a baby, but what a baby. There was huge alcohol and acid here, with expressive and defined tannins. Vincent called it ‘a young frau.’ Flavors of rust, red fruits and a hint of licorice emerged, and while this wine was decanted over two hours prior, it tasted like it could have been decanted for twenty-four hours and still come across youthfully. It still maintained a heavenly elegance despite all of its power. This is definitely an undervalued Cheval at the moment (96).

Wendy brought along a perfect bottle of 1975 Petrus. Vincent told us, ‘along with La Mission and Haut Brion, Petrus harvested early before the rain,’ which accounted for why these three wines were so good in ’75. Wendy observed ‘leather,’ while the Good Doctor just found it ‘gorgeous.’ The nose was ripe and kinky, like meat in the sun in a good way. Its fruit dripped black and purple, and aromas of black olive rounded out its nose. The palate was enormous and endless; its finish said fifty more years to go. Its palate was deliciously gamy and full of royal purple flavors. There was enough t ‘n a here for the Dallas Cheerleaders, and its thick tannins formed a perfect truce with its wealth of fruit. I could not stop drinking it (97).

Where could we go from here? 1989 Haut Brion, now there’s a good idea. This wine has been popping itself open around me about once a month for the past six. I could get used to that. It is and will be one of the greatest wines ever made in Bordeaux. Period, paragraph. The nose screamed great; its smoky and charcoal-laced fruit was as black as midnight. While fat and voluminous, it was also perfumed, and its posture was perfect. This bottle had even more fruit than the one I had in Bordeaux; it was as good as this wine can get. The Good Doctor also knows his provenance and storage; it says a lot when a bottle in HK can be even better than a bottle in Bordeaux itself! Vincent was admiring its concentration. Its palate was cedary, thick, long, gritty and grainy, almost Pomerolesque in its fruit. I had a flash of 1989 Petrus. The 1989 is an explosive wine that destroys everything in the room without anyone even hearing a sound, and this bottle was no different and as good as I ever remember it being (99).

There was one wine left on this magical beginning to this month’s HK venture, my 1996 DRC La Tache. This bottle delivered an outstanding experience, more so than the bottle I had about six months ago at Bipin’s DRC weekend. It had that ‘wow’ factor, even after some stiff competition from Bordeaux. This was more like the 1996 La Tache I remembered, with more meat on its bones. There was lots of winter in its nose, like cedar in a frozen forest. Mint and layers of penetrating t ‘n a rounded out its cavernous nose. The acid of 1996 was shining brightly here, and flavors of mint and menthol lined up like soldiers for its forceful palate. It was rich, saucy, hearty and long, and its fruit has finally fattened out just enough for it to be ‘next level,’ although I could see the monstrosity of its acid not being for everyone. Vincent observed ‘milky’ characteristics, part of its green tannin flavors, which were delicious in a foresty way. I vascillated between 96 and 97 points until the last drop, so let’s call it (96+).

It was a good start to the week in HK, but it was just beginning. Lunch the next day with Vincent provided an interesting head-to-head match-up of 1994 Sassicaia versus 2001 Lafite. The 1994 Sassicaia was ‘very Bordeaux-like’ per Gil, but the ‘olive hints at Italian.’ There was green bean in its nose, and a tangy undercurrant as well. Gil continued on to call it ‘olive juice.’ The palate was gamy and tangy with flavors of citrus, olive and stewed fruit flavors. Its tannins were dry, and its aftertaste full of oak, too much of it, in fact. The nose was better than the palate, and it was a bit sour (87).

The 2001 Lafite Rothschild had a gorgeous nose, with classic aromas of cedar, cassis, pencil and sweet, open fruit. There was much more volume here, and Alex found it ‘voluptuous.’ The palate was round and coy, its hidden acidity slowly emerging. Its tannins, too, were on the dry side and hints of oak, soy and salt led to a fish ‘n chips impression. Pretty and polished, long and with nice citrus twists, the Lafite was an excellent wine (93).

That very same night had us hosting sixty people for an evening of 1990 Left Bank Bordeaux. We didn’t tell anyone in advance that it would be blind; there were fifteen wines served, and at the end we tallied everyone’s top five wines (5 points for first, 1 point for fifth). The results were fascinating.

Now before I begin, I will actually revert back to November and include one event where I was hosted by one of my favorite tasting groups in Hong Kong, the AlcoholiHKs. This group of young financial wizards is always a lot of fun to be around and epitomize passion for the grape, although you don’t want to find yourself alone with Jerome after midnight. Trust me. The evening that they hosted for me in December served as a pre-cursor for our own event, and about eight of us gathered at the Hong Kong Country Club for a quartet of 1990 clarets.

The wines were served single blind, meaning we all knew the lineup but not the order. After evaluating the wines over a period of time, I was able to identify each of the four correctly, thankfully. Once in a while I get something right!

The 1990 Margaux had a deep, elegant nose with a hint of cinnamon. The nose also had cassis fruit and grilled nuts and meats. Deeper and deeper the nose went, down an Alice in Wonderland hole of elegance. Rich and delicious in the mouth, the Margaux didn’t lose any of its elegance on the palate, and its smooth and satiny style set the stage for flavors of purple fruits, nuts, grapes, musk, minerals and slate. The wine smacked on its finish (95).

The 1990 La Mission Haut Brion was more pungent with a hint of wheat grass at first. Hints of windex, nuts and animal rounded out its furry nose. The palate was full of gravel and alcohol with lots of dirty purple and charcoal flavors. It was clearly the lightest of the four, but it had excellent acidity to its finish. Gritty, grainy and gravelly, the La Miss also had a hint of green bean flavors (93).

The 1990 Haut Brion had the deepest nose of the four wines. There was thick, sweet, sappy fruit, and the nose had a good stink emerging from the streets of its smoky city. Gamy and chunky in both the nose and the mouth, the HB was rich, long and delicious. Its flavors were peanutty with a hint of kinky, and there was ample supporting slate. The HB had the most power of our quartet (96).

The 1990 Latour was fabulous. This was the second knockout bottle of this wine I had had within the month. Its sweet nose was inviting and open, more showy than any other wine. Its trio of musk, cedar and cassis was pure nose candy, and fresh, honey-roasted walnuts rounded out its sexy aromatics. It was so delicious, classic and the freshest palate of them all, showing lots of tasty pencil flavors. There was also great cedar to the palate, which was less ripe than the nose led me to expect, and the 1990 Latour was the best balanced of the four wines, providing an equal ratio of fruit and finish (97).

Now back to January, the 28th to be exact, and the fifteen wines and forty-five bottles we had assembled. Gil was in charge of the order of wines served, and the only one who knew which wine was what. I played along. At the end, we tallied everyone’s top five wines and revealed the identity of each wine from the least favorite wine of the night to its most popular, which is always fun.

The first wine had a clean nose with hints of green olive and bean, gamy in that direction. Its fruit was meaty, and its aromas were rich and hearty with nice spice. Cedar and minerals emerged from underneath, as did traces of leather. It was very open compared to the second wine, and while its fruit had some richness, its body was lighter in style. The wine with which it was served knocked it back a bit. Peter of the AlcoholiHKs nailed the wine – it was the 1990 Gruaud Larose (93).

The second wine had ‘very dry tannins,’ and ‘ginger flowers’ in its nose per Vincent. The nose was very shy at first, possessing faint peanut. This wine was all about what I call ‘backside’ elements – leather, cedar and minerals. The acidity was superb, and the wine was very long on the palate; it kept coming out more and more with time in the glass. Classy, long and minerally, this was still young and possessed very fresh tannins. Vincent and I were convinced it was the Chateau Margaux, but it was the 1990 Ducru Beaucaillou. It was impressive, but its subtle style did not stand out for many on this night (95).

The next flight was three wines, and the first was very chocolaty in its nose, more like cocoa powder. There were bigger and blacker fruits, and supporting smoke and dust. Additional aromas of cedar, carob, almost soy and a little hoisin rounded out the nose. The palate was concentrated, big and beefy with a thick finish, and excellent balance and acidity. This plump 1990 Pichon Lalande was quite pleasing and an excellent wine. For it to get 79 points from the world’s most regarded critic of Bordeaux is a bit confusing; there must be a batch of this wine that is not on par with the rest? I was surprised to see a second consistent note posted recently in June of 2009. Things that make you go hmmmmmm (93).

The next wine was a lot greener, closer to the Gruaud in style, but with less flesh and more peanut. It was lighter in its nose with some sweet plum and prune. The Good Doctor defended its length, and it did gain in the glass a bit. Vincent was suspecting this was the Lalande; he was only a wine late, and I completely saw his reasoning. Flavors of olive and game rounded out this 1990 Palmer (92).

The third wine of this second flight was deeper in its nose and possessed more oak. Cedar blended in, but its oak was still noticeable. The wine was long and gritty, cedary and leathery but marred by the oak. There were lots of forest flavors as well, but the fact of the oak remained. The Good Doctor didn’t like its flavor, and it was his least favorite wine so far. It was very dry, long and closed, and while there was good acid here, there was no fruit up front on its palate. I was stunned to learn later that this was the 1990 Margaux. Based on my experience two months prior, this showing was not consistent. I know bottle and variation are dirty words in Bordeaux when used together…more things that make you go hmmmmmmm (92?).

The third flight led off with a wine that had a big, warm nose fill of sweet, purple cassis. There was great musk and spice, excellent nut, and an almost creamy impression. The palate was rich, hearty and long with outstanding acid and outstanding tannins. Its finish was huge, really big, the biggest so far by a long shot. It had a tidalwave of a finish. The Good Doctor observed, ‘almond,’ and I added extract. This was a great showing for the 1990 Leoville Las Cases, and ultimately my wine of the night (96+).

It was paired with a wine that was much less impressive. This next wine was very green in the nose with lots of bell pepper. Its palate was lighter with chalky green flavors, as well as wet hay ones and a horsey and gamy personality. I guessed Montrose or Mouton. It was the latter, and this 1990 Mouton Rothschild seemed more mature than the average 1990 on this night, and disappointing overall (89).

The first wine of the fourth flight had a waxy nose which was deep and big. Aromas of game, spice and a touch of freshly painted wood were present. The palate was rich, saucy and smoky. I then wrote how almost every wine served on this night had a great finish, but this one was a bit bigger than most. Rich, fresh and balanced, this 1990 Haut Brion was fairly consistent with the bottle I had had two months prior (95+).

As was the 1990 La Mission Haut Brion that followed. The La Miss had lots of coffee in its nose, along with green bean and minerals. Hints of hoisin and peanut rounded it out. Long and dry, it was coy at first, expanding a bit later on (93).

The 1990 Lynch Bages was all about the coffee as well, more grinds than fresh brew. There was a powdery edge to the nose, and hints of animal and green bean lingered. The palate was rich, but the finish was softer, especially once I considered what it was later on. There was a touch of a synthetic quality to its flavors, and it was exotic in its cinnamon and cedar (93).

Bottle variation reared its head again with the eleventh wine served on its night. The first bottle had a rubber tire nose. There was cassis and fruit behind that, along with asparagus and animal. The flavors were all asparagus, and the finish was out of balance. ‘Tarry and leathery’ came from Vincent. He continued, ‘its earthiness is on the Northern side.’ This first bottle of 1990 Pichon Baron was barely (90). The second bottle I tasted was spectacular; there was a thick ocean of deep fruit along with smoke, charcoal, gravel and rich tobacco flavors (95). It just goes to show you that it always comes down to the bottle, and while wines are more consistent than they are not, there is variation.

The wine that was paired with the Baron was quite pungent, possessing glue in its nose at first. Brooding fruit and lurking oak peered out from the shadows of this behemoth’s nose. There were lots of peanut flavors and sweet cassis fruit, and this wine had excellent length and balance, gaining and expanding in the glass. It was a 1990 Latour, and while not as good as my two recent experiences, it was still outstanding (95).

The last flight was upon us, and my notes were a bit briefer. We had to start gathering everyone’s votes and then tally them, so I rushed through this flight a bit more than the others. The first wine was a classic and great. It was all about the cedar, supported by morning cereal, yeast and even a hint of coconut. Its palate had excellent citric tension, and it was nice to see a good show for the ‘house’ wine, so to speak, as this was the 1990 Chateau Lafite Rothschild (95).

The second to last wine of the night would ultimately become the group’s wine of the night. The nose was open and exotic, full of blackberry fruit in its nose. The palate was rich and saucy, with coffee grind and earth flavors and a meaty and dense personality. It was a Dr. Jekyll bottle of 1990 Montrose, which can often be green and unpleasant, but this was obviously one of the ‘good’ bottles that received so many accolades (95).

The last wine would be a disappointing 1990 Cos d’Estournel. It was sweet and almost cough syrupy, very different from my memories of this wine. It was very cherry and too sweet (91?).

We took everyone’s top five votes, five points being awarded to first place, and one point being awarded to fifth place. Here were the results:

1) Montrose (101 votes)
2) La Mission (97 votes)
3) Haut Brion (76 votes)
4) Lynch Bages (75 votes)
5) Lafite (62 votes)
6) Las Cases (56 votes)
7) Margaux (55 votes)
8) Mouton (53 votes)
8) Pichon Lalande (53 votes)
9) Pichon Baron (46 votes)
10) Latour (39 votes)
11) Cos (34 votes)
12) Ducru (27 votes)
13) Palmer (24 votes)
14) Gruaud Larose (13 votes)

So, what to make of all this data? First of all, I should say that often in these types of tastings, the wines at the end of the tasting get more unintentional favoritism. Their impressions are more recent, the earlier wines have been consumed and are long gone, etc. There is also a pack mentality that happens, i.e., the quality of wines tend to converge a bit more than when served non-blind. Lesser wines get more benefits of the doubt, as the mind sends subliminal messages – ‘but what if this is the Margaux?’ And the opposite happens for the better wines, ‘but what if this is Gruaud Larose, that couldn’t be my favorite.’ The real surprises for me were the La Mission and Lynch Bages in the group’s top five. Both were excellent wines but did not stand out for me as much as the group. I was also surprised how high the Mouton scored given its green personality, a personality consistent with other experiences of the wine. Certainly, the Pichon Baron might have snuck into the top five if that one bottle wasn’t as off as it was. I am not surprised that the Ducru didn’t show well even though I really liked it, although it would be interesting to know what would have happened if it was in the last flight rather than the first. Cos was disappointing, as I am a fan of the 1990 and the estate in general since 1982. The biggest disappointment had to be the Chateau Latour; while I found it better than most, I was stunned to see it in the bottom third. After having this wine on two occasions within the previous two months, I was convinced that Latour would win and that it is the Left Bank wine of the vintage; it was that good both times prior. These tastings are always fun because they consistently show that just when you think you know all the answers, someone changed the questions.

The next day was Friday, the day of the auction, and we were joined by renowned and respected importer Martine Saunier, who joined us to help celebrate the sale of her personal collection of Henri Jayer. What better way to celebrate than sample seven of Henri’s wines over lunch at Restaurant Petrus in the Island Shangri-La.

The 1988 Henri Jayer Vosne Romanee was an excellent beginning and about as impressive a 20-year old AC wine as I have ever had. Its sweetness and perfume were so balanced, and its deep purple nose accompanied by delightful aromas of game, leather and violet. This was a deep and expansive wine. Martine reminded us that 1988 was ‘a very hot vintage’ and ‘extra tannic.’ The palate had flavors of ‘rose hips’ per Wendy, vitamins, leather and ‘cranberry’ per Gil. Its acidity was impressive, and great caraway flavors developed. Wendy admired its ‘soft, floral Grand Cru nose,’ and hints of cedar rounded out its finish. This was a drinker’s Burgundy, for sure (93).

The 1989 Henri Jayer Vosne Romanee Cros Parantoux had a deep chocolaty nose that was tight and full of t ‘n a. Aromas of black fruits and cola were also present. The palate was big, brawny and muscular, full of spice. It was earthy and long, but I must confess that the charm of the previous wine was so divine, that it almost stole the Cros’ show. The palate was thick and cedary, rich and close to outstanding, very foresty in its flavors. It was clearly the ‘better’ wine with a longer future, but I would rather drink the ’88 today. The Cros got a ‘wow’ from Gil, along with ‘caramel’ (94+).

The next flight was a trio of Echezeaux, beginning with a 1991 Georges et Henri Jayer Echezeaux. Martine told us that the Georges bottling is the same as the exclusively Henri bottling, and since the market pays much higher prices when Georges’ name isn’t on the bottle, the smart money is on Georges. This ’91 was singing in the nose, which was a deep, dark, purple forest. There was incredible sweetness and spice. Cassis, currant, blackberry, cranberry and so much musk were all there. Its signature style of rose hips, vitamins, citrus spice box and mahogany let you know this was all Jayer. The palate was rich, sensual and balanced, so classy, silky and sexy that it felt like drinking negligee. It was absolutely gorgeous (95).

The 1990 Henri Jayer Echezeaux had a lot going on in its nose. It was heavy and thick, beefy, brothy and foresty, with that citrus pitch and spice. It was like a forest sledgehammer, so thick and sweet, displaying that purple signature style. The palate was rich with endless acidity that was still somehow reined in. The palate was so rich, so saucy, so concentrated, so spectacular. It also had that cedary, foresty edge to its flavors. If the 1991 was a girlfriend, the 1990 was a bodyguard (97).

The 1989 Henri Jayer Echezeaux was more gamy and a little figgy, more exotic than the other Ech’s. It was very forward with a little tutti frutti there. Gil found ‘yogurt’ in the nose. The palate was big and hearty but both ‘89s showed some squareness, and that grainy, cola-flavored personality was also consistent for both (93).

Martine told us how ’89 had nice weather and was a good wine, but the 1990 was forceful and amazing. It was ten years before the 1990’s came out of their seclusion. 1991 was a shadow year, lost in the shadow of 1990, but she thought it was sensational from the beginning. In fact, she bought more 1991 than 1990! She hailed its perfect balance, and said that Lalou Bize-Leroy likened it to 1959, a vintage that was always good from the very start.

The 1982 Henri Jayer Echezeaux was open and milky, redder in its fruit profile and rusty. 1982 was ‘a big harvest, so people that made too much wine didn’t make great wines.’ The palate was rich and full of decadent strawberry fruit, bright, saucy and long. Hints of wheat and lavender rounded out this exotic wine, which was a testament to how masterful Henri was in the so-called ‘off’ vintages. Martine would later say, ‘he never made a bad bottle’ (95).

We finished with a 1982 Henri Jayer Richebourg, of which there was only a barrel or two every year. The Riche had aromas of forest, boullion cubes, spice and mahogany. It was rich, concentrated, thick and long, with lots of leather, cedar and dust in the mouth. Flavors of red fruits, tomato, garden, stalk and more cedar undressed themselves layer after layer on its hearty palate. The 1982 Jayer Richebourg was like a strip-show for the mouth, complete with the bill (96).

The auction saw fireworks out of the glass and on the sales floor. Numerous wines were sampled and consumed during the auction, and two stood out for me above all the rest. Wendy had brought a 1955 Dom Perignon which was in perfect condition. It was just delicious. The nose had straw, hay, vanilla, cream, caramel, rain, wheat, crackers, musk…there was a lot going on. It was rich and tasty, very saucy and still with a lot of pop to it. There was great balance, a youthful personality but mature flavors. It was everything one could want in a vintage Champagne (97).

I had brought a magnum of 1996 Latour to share with a few people, and it was outstanding and bordering on that next level, as usual. Out of magnum it was a bit tight, but it was the typical brooding beast that young Latour can be. All the elements were there – black fruits, walnuts, minerals, earth. It felt mountainous in the mouth but was still graceful and stylish in its presence. This will be an all-time great Latour (96+).

The auction was a tremendous success, posting over 99% sold and over $7.6 million on the gross. On Sunday night, we celebrated with a few close friends and decided to make Martine drink Bordeaux. She was in Hong Kong, after all.

The 1996 Dom Perignon Rose was consistent with all my previous experiences. Very dry, citrusy and tangy, it has the potential to blossom, but it is a bit mean at the moment. I do not think it is in the elite category of DP Roses, and I would rather have many, many other 1996s before this, at least for now (93).

We actually did serve a couple of Burgundies first. We didn’t want Martine to start getting the shakes lol. A 1961 Clos de Tart smelled great. There was lots of rust, bright citrus and intense t ‘n a. Hints of violets, rose petals and game rounded out its complex nose. It had long acidity on the palate, as good ’61 Burgs are prone to have. I was discussing recently with Wilf, and he thinks it might be considered the best of the decade before all is said and done. 1961 always seemed lost in the shadows of ’61 Bordeaux and ’62 Burgs, but I must agree that the ones I have had of late are fantastic. This was no exception, and its brick flavors, pinches of Worcestershire and strawberry/rhubarb action all added up nicely. Gil noted, ‘a little VA, but who cares.’ A hint of vanilla ice cream and creamy root beer floated its way into the equation, and this wine was tasty and possessed great rusticity. The thing I liked most about the bottle was the Acker sticker on the back :) (94).

A 1955 Clos de Tart Vandermeulen bottling was a bit controversial. Martine noted ‘coffee’ right away, and that it was ‘not pure.’ It tasted very chocolaty and fruity, and definitely not 100% pure. The question became, when and where did the doctor operate, and the relativity theory of its authenticity came into play. If it was real, i.e., actually released by Vandermeulen, but it was so doctored, was it still real? That kind of stuff. It was quite fruity and young, a little Syrah-ish, definitely more New World than old, and tough to drink next to the 1961 (88?)

We played a game of bottle variation with two bottles of 1926 Cos d’Estournel, secured from the auction the previous day, actually. The first had a gorgeous nose, classic with its great cedar, cobwebs, smoke and positive hints of vanilla, lemon and rubber. It had a divine perfume without being perfumed, if that makes sense. I loved its dust and spice in the mouth, and it was far superior to the second bottle (94). The second bottle was not as perfumed; ironically, its color was younger even though it was from the same batch. The nose was a bit more closed, purpler and danker, although Gil was in its camp at first. I thought it was shy, and perhaps a hint off (90?). If winos were football players, the above is what we would call, ‘Any Given Sunday.’

Horace brought a bottle of 1948 Haut Brion he picked up at a great price at one of our auctions. It was very dry in the nose with lots of charcoal, straw, smoke, citrus and a pinch of penetrating horseradish. The palate was citrusy and tangy, with nice definition of its tannins. There was this bamboo jungle edge that emerged in the nose, and the palate became rich, bordering on saucy, but kept in bounds by its ceramic framework. It was long, elegant and poignant, and an excellent, old HB (94).

Vincent brought a bottle of 1962 Lafite Rothschild, one that we weren’t even sure was a 1962 until a thorough investigation of the cork. The vintage was illegible on the torn label, and the cork was eroded/faded to the point where it was very difficult to see the vintage, but ultimately I found the brand. Sometimes corks can fade or erode and be difficult to read, even when the wine is 100% legit, as this Lafite was. There was a kiss of cardboard in the nose, but behind it was a wealth of fresh fruit, along with carob, chocolate and pencil. Gil noted, ‘a little bandage.’ The palate was pretty as all heck, delicious with beautiful balance and natural, mature flavors that still came across fresh. Its silky, velvety mouthfeel caressed my palate gracefully (95).

The 1947 Vieux Chateau Certan stole the show, however. It had a deep, special nose, a veritable ocean of plummy sex. Alex observed, ‘jasmine,’ and found it ‘pure.’ Hints of garden and tree bark complemented the nose, but it was all about the Pomerol fruit. The palate was rich, saucy and concentrated, pure decadence. Its pure fruit flavors of plum and cassis were mature in their complexity yet youthful in their personality, just as it ought to be. It was lush and long but integrated, with its tannins and alcohol melted into its wealth of fruit. Wow (98).

There was one last wine to this amazing week in Hong Kong, and that was a 1962 Magdelaine, reconditioned at the Chateau in 1991. This was a ‘good’ reconditioned bottle, one that still retained the original personality of the wine. The nose was sweet and sexy with lots of red fruits, wintergreen and nice pitch and spice. The palate was similar, and while the wine still had that reconditioned polish, it was an excellent bottle of wine (93).

What a week. Great food, great friends and great wines. That’s what life is all about. I returned to New York, where I was reminded right away that we still know how to drink here in NYC. Stay tuned.

FIN

JK

Recently, I spent 24 hours in Bordeaux, swooping in like agent Jack Bauer for my own version of the wine world’s ‘24.’ Fortunately, there were no casualties, and while no deadly fruit bombs were discovered, there were many explosive wines that we systematically defused while there through the tried and true method of consumption. Agents Desai, Grunewald and Woolls were already on the scene when I arrived, investigating three vintages of Pichon Lalande over lunch at the Chateau.

The 1996 Pichon Lalande was a classic, an ‘archetype’ as someone noted. Its finesse didn’t suffer from a higher percentage of Cabernet Sauvignon. Gildas of Pichon Lalande explained to us that the last ten or so vintages of Pichon have had a higher percentage of Cabernet in the final blend as the Cabernet has been more ripe than before over the last decade. Was this global warming, we inquired? The answer was a definitive no; it was rather that famed oenologist and Robert Parker favorite Alain? Reynaud pushed everyone to pick later. Nuts, minerals, pencil, cedar and cassis were all in harmony in the nose, and the palate was polished in that Pichon way. Its flavors were black, purple and delicious with nice nut and cassis overtones. I have always liked this wine from the moment it was released (94).

The 1982 Pichon Lalande was much more open, with hints of coffee in its nose and more gamy fruit. It was musky and husky, with hints of corn oil and sweet fruit. Signature nut and pencil were there, and the pencil really started to take over in the nose with some air. Flavors of cassis, green bean and olive were present in this tasty wine, with more pencil on its finish. It was lush, round and rich with great black fruit flavors, and its olive became blacker in style. Someone called it ‘reductive’ (96).

The 1953 Pichon Lalande had a gorgeous nose, peanutty at first. It reminded me of the 1982 in terms of the richness in its nose, although there was no green olive here. The green olive did show up a little on the palate curiously enough, and Wolf admired its ‘nice concentration for the vintage.’ It was certainly the best older Pichon Lalande that I had ever had, and its nutty and smoky palate also had hints of coffee a la the 1982. There was a bit of exotic green to the palate with its olive and even apple qualities. Its sweet fruit had honey and hints of autumn, iron, slate and ceramic, with curds and whey on its finish. A bit of exotic berry came out with a refill, and one hour later, this wine still had me licking the roof of my mouth. It was certainly outstanding, and Bipin likened 1953 to 1985. He then went on to say how 1982 was ‘not a great vintage, only twenty Chateaux are surreal, the rest are quite volatile’ (95).

It was time to taste some 2008s, so we ventured off to Lafite. After a few pleasantries with Charles Chevallier about Lafite’s popularity and how the price of the Carruades has also soared, it was interesting to see the respect that the Chateau had for Duhart Milon. Why not change the name to Duhart de Lafite? Well, Duhart Milon was a separate property recognized by the 1855 classification, and even though Lafite could also absorb Duhart into Lafite and increase production, they are committed to this property. Charles commented how he thinks, ‘Duhart is the investment wine.’

The 2008 Carruades de Lafite was a blend of 51% Cabernet and 45% Merlot, and it had a grapy, inky nose. There was pleasant musk and a sprinkle of dusty chocolate. Its fruit was fat, grapy and nutty with hints of lavender. The palate has nice richness, mostly baby fat, and its vimful finish had nice leather qualities. One could see the Merlot here, and hints of coffee grinds rounded out its finish (91).

The 2008 Duhart Milon had more reserve to it, showing only cedar and cinnamon at first. Its classic style had only a hint of that baby fat fruit in the background that a young claret usually displays nowadays. The palate was mild and elegant, not fat, possessing nice cedar flavors. Its drier tannins proved more serious than the Carruades, with real lift on the finish. Charles admired its ‘fresh fruit, good acidity and supple tannins.’ He kept going back to the word freshness (93).

The 2008 Lafite Rothschild had a distinguished nose, and a warm, oven-baked goodness to its nose, just like Mom used to make lol. There was not only cinnamon, but more really cinnamon toast with a granulated sweetness and even a hint of butter. Its deep fruit was laying low in the background, also elegant and reserved like its sibling Duhart, but more omni-present. There were blacker fruit flavors here, with lots of supporting, youthful leather. Its finish was fuller, longer, deeper and stronger than the Duhart, very dry times two with its powerful tannins. Its serious length kept going and going, and Charles commented how ‘great terroirs auto-regulate pH, acid and alcohol’ (95).

It was off to Mouton to do a similar lineup, beginning with the 2008 D’Armailhac. There was nice toast and a pungent, Windex core with meaty cassis and solid minerals. Its palate was round and pleasant with nice flavors of smokehouse, cassis and coffee, but it was clearly simpler, especially after tasting the Mouton, which dropped it like a pretender (89).

The 2008 Clerc Milon gave me a similar impression that the Duhart did after tasting the Carruades. There was lots of cinnamon and more reserve here, although there was more purple floral action here. Round, soft and simple, it was very good but not as good as the Duhart (91).

The 2008 Le Petit Mouton is a relatively new wine for the Chateau, and perhaps they should relegate it back to the cellar for a few more years, as it was quite average at best. Its nose was gassy and possessed a lot of farm action, and not in a good way. I’m talking compost, animal, wet hay. The palate was aggravatingly pungent and difficult to drink, although it did get a little better with some air. Perhaps it was just this particular bottle (80?).

Thankfully, there was still the 2008 Mouton Rothschild. ‘Back to Jesus,’ I wrote. The nose was distinguished and elegant, long and foresty with lots of Asian and cinnamon spice. The palate was clearly outstanding from first sip. There was great balance yet also deft agility to its clean, long and fresh personality. There were great flavors of cedar and this hybrid of chocolate and caramel that was dry and not sweet. The nose produced a secondary hint of waterfall, and a hint of animal and fur joined the palate. The ’08 Mouton had great pitch, and was ‘fat’ per Bipin. It was definitely had more game than the Lafite, and in New York City, that would be a good thing :) (95).

It was off to Margaux, where the incredibly warm and welcoming Paul Pontallier was at our service. Whenever I see Paul, I just feel like I am at home, no matter where I am. He is a true ambassador for Bordeaux and, of course, Chateau Margaux. We started with a 2008 Pavillon Rouge du Chateau Margaux. Its nose was pretty, perfumed yet full. There were still stern minerals enveloping its backbone of fruit. Earth and minerals kept creeping out more, as did a hint of hay. The palate was fresh, light and pleasing, but still cedary and with some heat and a touch of spiciness on its finish. The palate was clean, showing mahogany flavors. Paul admired its ‘purity and aromatic complexity’ (91).

We talked a bit about the 2008 vintage for a minute with Paul. ‘The freshness of the vintage and the fact that it is easy to drink is equal to the 2004. It is not as dense and packed as ’06, but it is easier to drink. There are good levels of ripeness, balance and density, but it is softer and doesn’t pretend to be a great vintage. At the same time, Pavillon Rouge will be great to drink after 20 years. 1999, 2001, 2004 and 2008 are the key vintages for the cellar, as they are delicious and will be for at least another twenty to thirty years.’

We were told that the 2008 Margaux was almost 90% Cabernet. The nose was fine and elegant like the back of a woman’s neck. It had a hint of everything – iron, spice, cedar, cinnamon, musk and purple fruits and flowers. Its aromas were so long in an elegant way, but its palate was rich and expansive. Bipin found ‘the end of mouth amazing.’ Rich and delicious, this was the tastiest of the First Growths that we had sampled on this afternoon, and while it still had backside, it was more reined in and balanced than either of the Rothschilds, aka not as powerful. Someone noted, ‘great length and nice density.’ There was a hint of field green in a great way that someone called ‘fresh mint,’ and Agent Woolls found its ripeness typical of Napa mountain fruit. It certainly was the most drinkable and charming of the Firsts (94).

We were treated to a couple of other recent vintages, beginning with the 2007 Margaux, which was bottled five months prior. The nose was quite mild compared to the 2008, with a hint of wet hay and light spice cabinet. Bipin liked its nose and perfume, and a little iron rounded out the nose. The palate was round but soft, ‘elegant and silky,’ but light in its tannins. It was pleasant and easy, but deceptively so as it kept gaining in the glass with time. I think it still had a bit of bottle shock to shake off, as it soon became excellent, giving off what I called, ‘Thanksgiving sex appeal.’ That’s when you get to baste the turkey :) (93).

We expected 2006 to be next but were treated to the 2005 Margaux instead! At first, the ’05 seemed very shut down. While there was cedar and dust there, I was shocked to find that Paul had already decanted the 2005 for two hours! It was still closed. Hints of black fruits tapped at the surface, almost begging to come out but unable to climb past the glass walls that encased them. The palate, however, was very concentrated, almost jammy because it was so rich. Hints of coffee and tree flirted with my palate, and Paul admired ‘the volume.’ It was a great wine – elegant and silky inside with a big body in which to house it all (96+).

Unfortunately, there was no time to dilly dally, as dinner back at Chateau Lafite was in less than thirty minutes. We would see Paul again there soon.

Every year, Bipin holds ‘Bipin’s Thanksgiving’ at Chateau Lafite in the month of December. This happened to be Bipin’s 25th Anniversary of said holiday feast. As the French would say, ‘incroyable!’ He always invites a great winemaker and some of their wines from another significant region, such as Egon Muller and Monsieur Perrin in previous years that I have attended. This year we would pay homage to the wines of Comte de Vogue, represented by Jean-Luc Pepin. The guest list was a who’s who of the Bordeaux world such as Anthony Barton, Herve Berland, Hubert de Bouard, Jean-Michel Cazes, Charles Chevallier, Jean-Bernard and Jean-Philippe Delmas, John Kolasa, Thierry Manoncourt, Paul Pontallier, Jean-Guillaume Prats and Christophe Salin amongst others. Before the night was over, we would sample at least twenty wines from a combination of the cellars of Vogue and the 1989 vintage in Bordeaux. Let the games begin.

Everyone arrived over some 1999 Jacques Selosses Vintage Champagne. The vintage Selosses is incredibly rare, as he made only approximately 2000 bottles of the 1999! I recently did a massive Selsosses tasting, so I will get more into him at a later date, but this ’99 was fantastic. Wolfgang was loving it, which is always a good sign for a domaine that it has done something right. He called it ‘super, a little toasty, but it stays in my mouth for minutes.’ It was long and clearly the best 1999 that I have had so far. It was quite big for a 100% Blanc de Blancs (all chardonnay grapes), very full and forward as well. Its gritty and grainy finish was well-defined, and its palate packed big and bready flavors. If only Selosses focused more on making vintage wines as opposed to solera, multi-vintage cuvees, he would already be on everyone’s top ten list in Champagne (95).

Jean-Luc gave us a brief introduction about Vogue, reminding us how it was still family owned, dating back to the 15th century. George Vogue had a daughter who died in 2002 and left it to her two daughters. 1993 was the last vintage of Musigny Blanc, as they replanted the vineyard with young vines and now call it Bourgogne Blanc. When the vines are old enough again, we will have Musigny Blanc again, although technically it is still Musigny Blanc now. I believe he also said that any fruit that comes from vines less than 25 years of age will not go into the standard Musigny Rouge. I also learned later on that the Domaine has no records of ever making two different Musignys. This was in regard to a question about the fact that sometimes there are older bottles of Vogue that just say Musigny as opposed to ‘Vieilles Vignes.’ Since Vogue worked with about a half-dozen different suppliers, to whom they sold barrels and provided labels, some requested that it just said Musigny. So, any Vogue Musigny should be the same as a Vogue Musigny ‘Vieilles Vignes.’ Interesting stuff.

We began with some Bourgogne, the 2004 Comte de Vogue Bourgogne Blanc, to be exact. It had a smoky nose and was typical 2004 with its clean fruit, touch of sweet citrus, hints of waterfall and dust. The palate was smooth, long and pretty, solid stuff. There was hidden acidity here, like a big backside masked in a flattering dress. There were great smoky flavors with twists of lime. John Kolasa noted ‘flint stone’ (93).

The 1999 Comte de Vogue Bourgogne Blanc unfortunately suffered from some premature oxidation. It wasn’t intolerable, but it was there. A hint of banana peel slipped its way through, as did sawdust, but the wine was forward and gamy. The palate was big but full of tutti-frutti flavors, a sure sign of premox. There was so much muscle to the palate, typical of 1999 which is a brawny vintage, but unfortunately, I could not form a complete picture of the wine. Thierry Manoncourt said something funny in French, but I can’t read my own writing now. Man, it’s early for that (92+A).

The 1992 Vogue Musigny Blanc was very forward in that 1992 style. Its nose possessed aromas of rainwater and dirty back alley, along with orange blossoms heading south for the winter. It reminded me of a wine that would be drunk in Sin City, as in the movie. The palate was round and with a hint of metal without being metallic. Its white fruit flavors were starting to turn. Drink up (89).

We marched on to the reds, beginning with a 1985 Vogue Musigny Vieilles Vignes out of magnum. Its nose was open and minty, full of damp earth and crushed mint leaves. Its fruit was definitely in the background, and there was a hint of beef. The palate, however, was full of red fruits, vitamins, stems and stalks, much more powerful than I expected, perhaps aided by the magnum format. There was nice, taut ripeness and a flash of game, along with nice definition on its finish. It got more wild in the glass, and for some reason I thought of ‘The Fly.’ This was tasty and excellent (94M).

The 1993 Vogue Musigny Vieilles Vignes elicited a ‘hello Dolly’ from me. There was a big frame here, encasing deep, subtle and inviting fruit. The wine was far from obvious, and its earth, vitamin shavings, dark chocolate and forest floor reminded me of why 1993 is such a great vintage. It will be one of the years Burgundy lovers will continue to seek out for decades. There was a lot going on in this wine. The palate was big yet sensual, long yet fine with a great mix of fruit and finish. It was flat out great, still young but approachable. Its skin has been shed, but this snake still has bite and plenty of venom left! It was big yet agile in a kick your ass kind of way. The acidity lingered for over a minute after it went down down down down down (96).

The 1999 Vogue Musigny Vieilles Vignes was much shier than the 1993, more masked in its personality. It showed more nut in the nose with pinches of stems and gas. It came across brawny after the swift and cut 1993. Kosala found it ‘elegant but not as complex.’ There was this hint of New World, like Pinot in a beefy, California way. The palate had traces of fig, beef and game, but this was not exactly the home run I was looking for, given the home run that this vintage is in Burgundy. More acidity came out with some food, but I was disappointed, I must admit (93).

The 2006 Vogue Musigny Vieilles Vignes was pure and transparent; what you smelled is what you got. Aromas of red cherry, vitamins and stems were bright yet thick. The palate was a lot richer than the nose, also thick. It felt big despite still possessing some baby fat. The ’06 took it step by step, as if it knew it could roar, but decided against it until it was really ready to let it rip. I am a fan of this vintage, and I look forward to trying this wine many times over the course of its evolution (95).

Jean-Michel Cazes admired them, saying they were ‘all quite good yet all different.’ Someone asked Jean-Luc whether 2006 was similar to 1985, and he replied that there is ‘better acidity in ’06.’ He also called Musigny ‘aloof’ in its personality. The Moose can be loose, and now it can be aloof, too :).

It was on to Bordeaux and a 1989 retrospective orchestrated by the maestro known as Bipin. And why not? It was twenty years after the fact, and a perfect time to check in on this highly regarded yet controversial vintage. We would soon see why.

We started with a trio of St. Emilions, beginning with the 1989 Canon, served out of magnum. Its nose possessed nice aromas of olive, black fruits, fig confiture and a hint of winter. It was classic, smooth and tasty with flavors of black fruits, olive, wheat and leather (93M).

The 1989 Figeac was similar, with more olive and green goodness. Olive, more olives and even olive oil danced like Zorba around its nose. It was very bright and forward. The palate had lots of olives as well, but more black in flavor. Long and stylish, the palate was sexier than I thought it would be. The wine wasn’t one of the greatest Figeacs ever, but it was just delicious, a wine that didn’t have to be over-analyzed because it was just damn good to drink. Why is the oldest and most experienced man in St. Emilion, who is still going strong at age 94-ish, still its best-kept secret (94)?

The 1989 L’Angelus was deeper, nuttier and thicker than the first two wines, possessing aromas of peanut and black cherry. Its flavors were much blacker as well, invoking feelings of tar, asphalt, chocolate and black fruits. It tasted like it was on steroids compared to the first two wines. It was big, beefy and long, but not really my style, especially after the first two classics (92).

We crossed over to the Left Bank and begun with the 1989 Leoville Barton. Its nose was yeasty with traces of oatmeal. It had a lot of black fruits, with pinches of chocolate and windex. As most Leoville Bartons are, the 1989 had significant power on the palate, expressing big-time alcohol and acidity. Leave it to Bordeaux’s British ambassador to add the most oomph (93+).

Waterfall came first in the nose of the 1989 Lynch Bages, which is not that common in Bordeaux. There was a bit of stable in the nose, but not really quite that. There was some espresso, but not really quite that, either. Cola, that was there really, as was peanut J. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks – sautéed string beans yum! The palate was big and rich, quite enormous and even more impressive in its power than the Leoville Barton. There was enough alcohol here for a high school prom. The ’89 was still quite young. It was big, black and dark. Did someone say something about….never mind (95).

I liked the 1989 Cos d’Estournel, which was classic all the way around. There was nice balance between its t ‘n a in the nose, with aromas of peanut, cassis and black fruits. The palate was rich and long, possessing nice spice and a big character (94).

I have always preferred the 1989 Montrose to the 1990, and this bottle reminded me why. Its nose was yeasty and earthy, quite sexy in a black and blue way. Kosala found it the ‘tightest’ of the Left Bankers so far, and someone else found it ‘the most masculine.’ It was clearly special, with flavors of oil, ink and hints of animal just starting to show some skin (95).

We segued to the First Growths with a 1989 Cheval Blanc, a First Growth in its own right. The Cheval was very aromatic with its olive, black and red fruits, and oak trees covered in snow. I was under-impressed the first time I had this wine many years ago, but every time I have had it since, it keeps getting better (93+).

The 1989 Margaux had a tender nose with hints of semi-sweet fruit, both black and purple. The palate was a bit watery for lack of a better word, and its flavors were pleasant but not great (92).

The 1989 Lafite Rothschild was classic with its cedar and cassis combination, and hints of oatmeal and sugar rounded out its nose. Again, that water showed up on the palate, although the Lafite did come across a touch fuller and more balanced than the Margaux. Its acidity was still long (93).

The 1989 Mouton Rothschild had more charcoal in its smoky nose, and its palate was similar with cedar flavors as well. It was similar to the Lafite in style and personality except for the charcoal (93).

And then came the 1989 Haut Brion. The 1989 Haut Brion proceeded to just blow everything away. This was like UConn coming to town to play a game of women’s basketball against any of your female population. Dick Vitale would of course cover the game and find it ‘Awesome baby!!!!’ It again proved why it is one of the greatest wines of all-time. Its length, depth, breadth and soul are pillars of strength that will always support the argument that Bordeaux produces the best wines in the world. Easy Burghounds, I said argument! What a wine. I did find this bottle just a hair drier than usual, but it was still extraordinary juice, just a step behind the usual 99 point experience, you’ll have to forgive it (98).

How could all the Super Seconds outshine the Firsts? Haut Brion is clearly an exception to the 1989 rule, as it was a vintage where the wine gods shined brightly on Graves and Pomerol. Everyone else had a tougher time, however. It was a very hot vintage, and obviously some had difficulty managing that heat. 1990 was a much more classic vintage by Mother Nature’s standards. 1989 will always be a vintage known for two of the greatest Bordeaux ever made, Haut Brion and Petrus, but it did not produce quality across the board like a true great vintage should, and the First Growths, outside of Haut Brion, universally underperformed, even Latour (you can ask Bipin why there was no Latour served). This is why 1989 will always be controversial. We still saw that quality could be produced in the Northern part of the Left Bank, but 1989 will never receive the accolades of other great vintages due to the overall quality of the First Growths relative to other years. How did this happen? I didn’t dig deeper, sorry, it was late and approaching 5am, NY time, where I started my day the night before. What surprised me the most was how the Super Seconds were cumulatively better than the Firsts, taking Haut Brion out of the picture. 1989 must have been a blue moon vintage, or something of the sorts, as you don’t see that too often.

The next day saw us at Haut Brion, where we tasted a horizontal of 2007s before lunch. They were not ready to show their 2008s at this time. I think they were recently bottled, or something technical of the sorts. The 2007 La Chapelle de la Mission had a nice, chocolaty style with a gravelly edge. The nose was chunky and possessed some depth. The palate was round and lush with nice dryness, cassis and charcoal flavors. Pleasant and easy, this second wine also had nice acidity (90).

2007 was the first vintage for Haut Brion’s new second wine. The 2007 Le Clarence de Haut Brion effectively replaces the Bahans Haut Brion. It had a similar nose to the La Chapelle but was a bit more elegant and regal, still a bit chocolaty but less so. The palate was brighter and more vimful, possessing sawdust and cedar flavors and hints of citrus (91).

The 2007 La Mission Haut Brion was like the La Chapelle, but more grainy in its nose. There were aromas of fresh field and stalk, coffee and lots more reserve and breed. The palate was very tight, not giving a lot, very dry and citrusy. The La Chapelle was more enjoyable at this stage, but the La Mission is clearly the better wine (92+).

They only made 8800 cases of the 2007 Haut Brion, compared to 13,000 cases in 2004. (La Mission made 4500 versus 7500 fyi). The Haut Brion had a great nose, all about the earth, and so regal at the same time. There were hints of roasted nuts, some honey and a twist of lime. The fruit was richer than the La Miss. Someone said, ‘2007 equals charm and pleasure, while 2008 is tighter and tougher in style.’ There were hints of animal to its nice, rich fruit. Its excellent finish had great balance between its tannins, alcohol and acidity. Its acidity kept extending (94).

The 2007 Laville Haut Brion was very gamy in its pungent nose with aromas of straw, hay, chicken coop and glue. The palate was lemony and melony, a bit tangy with lots of vitamin flavors on its finish. There is much more Semillon (80%) in the Laville than the Haut Brion Blanc that followed (92).

The 2007 Haut Brion Blanc is usually a 50/50 blend of Semillon and Sauvignon Blanc, although there was 55% Sauvignon Blanc in 2007. Only 600 cases were made. The nose was distinct Haut Brion Blanc; there was this great core of pungent minerality and sweet honey, along with glue, limestone and a tropical kink. The palate was outstanding with great flavors of slightly sweet honeydew and guava. Bipin found it ‘amazing’ and Wolf ‘racy.’ It was lush yet taut, long, regal and stylish…flat out great (95).

Lunch was served, and we continued on with another couple of whites, this time with a little more age. The 2005 Laville Haut Brion was more taut than the ’07 despite being a couple years older. Classic aromas of minerals and glue oversaw its big, alcoholic palate. There were flavors of glue, straw and honeycomb. The ’95 was stony, full, long and impressive, balanced and deft despite an oversized personality (94).

A 2001 Haut Brion Blanc was a bit oxidized. It was very open and gamy, really forward and seemingly off. I couldn’t quite tell if this was just the style of the wine in 2001, or an affected bottle. Even bottles direct from the Chateau can have problems, I suppose (90?).

The 2001 La Mission Haut Brion was rich and hearty with a long finish full of acid. The fruit was a touch gamy as well with a hint of marzipan, maybe it was a 2001 thing after all. Creamy flavors of dates and chocolate were present in this saucy wine (91+).

My last wine on this trip to Bordeaux was a 1986 Haut Brion. Even though it was a new day, and this was only wine number ten of said day, I couldn’t read half my note, how fitting. The ’86 had a deep nose, coming on slowly and surely. It was big and zippy with flavors of grape, carob and light slate. I was surprised how lush and open this wine was on the palate, as ’86 is a tannic year. This ’86 was delicious and flavorful, showing quite well at the moment (93).

24 hours, 44 wines and no casualties. Mission accomplished.

FIN

JK

VINTAGE TASTINGS - New Year's Eve 2009

Big Boy has a lot of monopolies. One of them is great wine events in the month of December. Tradition always has me chez Rosania on New Year’s Eve, and previous articles of his incredible events to ring in the New Year have already been published for the last few years. After 2009, someone needs to call the FTC, because this past New Year’s Eve, it officially got out of hand, in the greatest sense possible.

I arrived a bit late and missed a handful of things, like 1989 Krug, 1989 Krug Clos du Mesnil and 1979 Pommery. Oh, well. Other commitments had me on the tardy side, but I was able to get in the swing of things rather quickly. By the time I arrived, Slover, who was to be helping everyone keep up with the onslaught of wines all night, was already a couple blocks away in Lenox Hill Hospital from a sabering accident. It just goes to show all you kids out there that sabering is not something that should be done unless under proper adult supervision. Four stitches later, however, Slover had admirably recovered and was back at wine control, albeit a little limp-wristed for the rest of the evening.

Every wine was served out of at least magnum, with a few Jeros making their way into the lineup later in the evening. The theme of the evening was vintages ending in the year ‘9,’ which is probably the luckiest number when it comes to vintages of the last 100 years.

The first wine on which I laid my lips was a 1979 Krug Collection. It was the same as it ever was, still very young and at least a decade away from being approachable if you ask me. Its finish requires rocket fuel, as it has that much power and acidity. Hints of milk and wood were a bit out of sync from other recent experiences. Gentleman Jim noted, ‘light in its flavors like an Angel Food Cake.’ Indeed, the 1979 Krug Collection is all about the backside at the moment, but there is enough there to merit an outstanding rating, although this particular magnum didn’t make me want to add a ‘plus’ sign as usual (95M).

A 1979 Pol Roger Cuvee Sir Winston Churchill was a bit disappointing. Nothing was wrong with the bottle, but it seemed to lack that boom boom pow. As Big Boy observed, ‘it was a little light and didn’t pop.’ The nose was stone city. The palate was long, gritty and grainy with white fruits and wheat, but I expected more from this normally outstanding cuvee (92M).

The ‘regular’ 1979 Krug was fantastic. The nose was big, bready and toasty with hints of egg, varnish and mahogany. It was deep, open, rich and expressive with lots of meaty, gamy fruit. The palate also had great fruit and finish; its flavors were open and hinting at key lime, while its length was still impressive, indicating that the words ‘Collection’ and ‘Clos du Mesnil’ are not necessary for a Krug to be ageworthy (96M).

It was time for some red wines, and Big Boy was in a Pomerol state of mind. We warmed up with the 1989 Petrus. Man, I love this wine. 1989 is clearly the greatest modern-day Petrus, the one against which all others should be measured. We’ll see how vintages like 1998, 2000 and 2005 develop, but they will all have to answer to this vintage. The ’89 was unreal as always, even more of a behemoth out of magnum, infantile in its initial expression, and all the more brooding. There was still fruit showing, and its acidity was hidden at first but slowly uncoiled to reveal regality. Big Boy observed its ‘vahlrona chocolate.’ This wine was quite hedonistic, packed and stacked with chocolate, plums and earth, adding up to near-perfection again (99M).

The Petrus was paired with a 1989 Lafleur out of double-magnum. Dapper Dave noted, ‘leaner but more open, great.’ He preferred the nose of the Lafleur and the palate of the Petrus. The Lafleur was definitely more fragrant, with hints of olive to go with classic Pomerol fruit. I was surprised by the Lafleur’s approachability, especially since it was out of double magnum, and even more so since this wine has blown me away with its power on more than one occasion out of standard bottle. There was long acidity and chalky flavors here, and the crowd observed ‘porcini’ and ‘Nebbiolo cherry.’ It was still outstanding, but this wine should be in that 97-99 point category, and this double magnum wasn’t (95D).

A pair of 1949 magnums were next, also from the Holy Land known as Pomerol. When it comes to magnums of 1940s Pomerols, you either believe or you don’t, so all non-believers can feel free to skip the next two paragraphs. Anyone who was treated to a glass of either wine, however, would find it difficult to say anything negative or defamatory about either of these two nectars.

The first was a 1949 Clos L’Eglise Clinet, which had what I would call a ‘typical’ Nicolas Pomerol profile. Both magnums were Nicolas bottles, by the way. Plum, olive and lots of chocolate were in the nose; its core was sweet and musky. The palate was quite similar, very satiny and smooth, polished and chocolaty, easy and delicious (94M).

The 1949 Latour a Pomerol was another beauty, although I wanted to see what others had to say first, so I put Slover on the spot. ‘Smells great,’ was his first reaction, ‘lots of olive. The color seems youthful, but the palate is so relaxed it could be that old, amazing.’ Every sip I took, this wine became more impressive, and not because it gained power in the glass. Like a wine of this age should, it unfolded different layers as opposed to gaining steam. The classic Pomerol was there, particularly the olive and plum, with more cassis and less chocolate than the L’Eglise. It was sheer deliciousness, even more so than the L’Eglise Clinet because its fruit was purer. The L a P was decadent but light on its feet. Gorgeous and pretty were two words that came to mind in describing this ancient wonder. That hint of fresh garden unfolded, and the Latour a Pomerol left the L’Eglise behind. Hints of slate also unfolded, as did ‘Mexican coffee’ per someone. Arriba arriba (96M).

A perfect magnum of 1979 Louis Roederer Cristal snuck in right before Midnight. Aromas of sweet golden corn and yellow straw combined with ‘creamsicle’ ones, per Dapper Dave. It was elegant yet powerful, absolutely sizzling on the palate with its racy acidity and expressive bubbles. Creamy and somehow integrated despite all that fizz, the 1979 was another example of why Cristal is not just a name (96+M).

Midnight struck, and Big Boy gave one of his notorious speeches. There were many warm and fuzzy things said, one of which wasn’t ‘I can’t wait to get rid of this f’ing decade’ lol. Out came a Rehoboam of 1959 Moet. I think that is somewhere between Jero and Methusaleh, just don’t miss that right turn in Reims. I am pretty sure this was the first one of these opened in 2010, and possibly the last one that ever will be. The nose was clean with light citrus and apple with pinches of musk, anise and truffle. The palate was a bit tangy for me, its bubbles just hanging on despite the fact that there was no oxidation here. Its wine-like personality was very oily, but its flavors just didn’t do it for me. I like to stick to the pre-Dom Perignon Moets, personally (88R).

There were a couple more bubblies before we went to Burgundy. A 1979 Taittinger Comtes de Champagne Rose was race car city at first, fresh and zippy both in the nose and palate of this perfectly stored magnum. ‘Zippedy doo dah’ summed it up. There were nice, secondary strawberry aromas, but the palate was tight and almost a bit mean, super dry and rocket-like in its finish. Olof thundered in from the North, took off his horns and aptly came up with ‘a little white asparagus, platinum and copper.’ He then proceeded to impale someone who disagreed with him. Someone else appreciated its ‘good stank.’ Kayne West would have described it as ‘bright funky earthy fresh,’ as I wrote, and Big Boy lobbied for 96 points, but I told him it just wasn’t showing enough yet for that (95+M).

A jeroboam of 1949 Pommery was coffee city. It was mature and rich with luscious, earthy and dirty white chocolate flavors. These old Pommerys can be all-star material, but even bottles that aren’t at their best are still always good everyday players. This jero was a touch mature but still creamy and lush, arguably slightly affected but still excellent (93J).

It was time for some Burgundy, and Big Boy delivered a 1-2 knockout punch that would have settled this whole Mayweather-Pacquiao BS by leaving them both lying on the canvas, wondering what hit them. A magnum of 1969 Rousseau Chambertin, the one and only in Rob’s collection, was incredible. Wendy was going crazy over it; this was as excited as I have ever seen her over a given wine, and as the honorary ‘Angry Woman,’ she has seen a lot of greatness for sure. Rousseau undoubtedly made the wines of the vintage in 1969; what he did in this year is nothing short of spectacular given how most other wines from the vintage are showing. Words like ‘unreal, great, rich and spectacular’ graced my notes. The fruit and finish were both extraordinary. Citrus and rose blended together with tomato and rust to form an exemplary combination that left my palate watering for more. It remains a benchmark wine not only for 1969, but also for Burgundy (97M).

The wine that followed took it up another notch. The jero of 1959 DRC La Tache quickly laid claim to wine of 2010 with its incredible nose. It was DRC and LT all the way, one of the best examples of this wine that I have ever had. I have rated it as high as 99 points, but that was over five years ago and I have not had it hit the heights ever since until now. Smoke, mesquite, rose, rust, tomato, citrus, iron, cola, vine and more rust were all balanced by great acidity. This wine was so intense it made Big Boy look passive. Secondary aromas and flavors of bouillon joined the party, as did ‘perfect violet’ per Wendy. One couldn’t deny the style or greatness of DRC here; kudos once again to the greatest producer of wine in the world (98+J).

A half-dozen Champagnes slowly rounded out the evening, which was ultimately to end at 4am. We came down back to earth with a magnum of 1970 Veuve Clicquot Rose. Its nose was yeasty and full of vitamins, mature and warm. I noted flavors of orange blossom and tangerine, while Cliff found ‘orange Sunkist wedges.’ Wendy called it ‘a bit tropical, watermelon and persimmon…confectionary’ (93M).

The 1949 Louis Roederer was quickly crowned ‘Champagne of the night’ by the King of Champagne. Anyone who disagreed would quickly be banished from the kingdom, so good thing he was right. Rizzo observed ‘butter toffee,’ and it was housed in vanilla city. Hints of root beer, coconut liqueur and ‘salt water taffy’ per Cliff rounded out its exotic nose. Its flavors were all about the butter – that butter toffee, butter rum and even butterscotch got into the game, all dry and all great (97M).

The crown of Champagne of the night didn’t last long, as I liked the magnum of 1959 Pol Roger even a touch more. Its nose was crystal clear with divine yellow fruits. Its palate was fantastic; it was big and smooth, force without mass. It was deliciously buttery without any of the sweet butter qualities and kinkiness of the ’49 Roederer. It was classic in the ‘Fall’ sense of the word, Yankees style (97+M).

A 1959 Veuve Clicquot was outstanding. It tasted (and looked) more recently disgorged than not. It was strong, long and full of song. Well, that’s what I wrote. It was getting to that point in the evening where I was about to be full of something else :) (95M).

The 1969 Taittinger Comtes de Champagne was exotically good, as usual for old C de C’s. Butterscotch and lemon/lime were present in this fresh and well-stored magnum. I can’t exactly read what I wrote, it looks something like ‘anal’ and ‘great,’ but since my memory is fuzzy around this point, let’s hope it wasn’t exactly that lol (95+M).

The 1929 Louis Roederer was ‘unreal great.’ I wish I could tell you more about it, but the pen had officially fallen off the page. I do remember that it was a continuance in style of the 1949, though less exotic and more mellow, definitely close to divine (96M).

Oh, what a night, and thanks again to the most generous host in the world today. Here’s to 2010 being another year filled with great friends and great bottles.

FIN

JK

VINTAGE TASTINGS - The Punisher

I interrupt my natural progression through some of this Fall’s more noteworthy wine evenings in order to bring you notes from a night last week that was so extraordinary, it immediately went to the top of my pile, easily one of the ‘nights of the year,’ so to speak. And there were only three of us.

I have often joked in years past about the two Jef(f)s in Los Angeles who share a last name (despite different spellings), the ‘good’ Jef being one of my close friends. Well, the, um, let’s call him ‘other’ Jeff, was in town on his way back from two weeks in Bordeaux and reached out to get together with myself and another special guest a couple months ago, and the evening was finally upon us. This other Jeff was fresh off an evening in Baltimore with Mr. Parker himself, drinking 1961 La Chapelle from Bob’s cellar amongst other goodies. It is, in fact, on Mr. Parker’s website where you will often find the other Jeff posting away on a daily basis, to which his thousands of posts will attest. When you talk that much on web bulletin boards, you are bound to find some people disagreeing with you, but after this evening, I can safely say that both Jef(f)s in LA are now ‘good’ in my book.

We were joined by one of New York’s empirical collectors, one who used to have an Airplane in his nickname, but after this night, he will only be known as ‘The Punisher,’ because he just punished us with incredibly rare wine after another until we couldn’t drink no more. And there were still another eight or ten bottles in tow if necessary!

Acrobatic/exotic/unique chef Wylie Dufresene’s 12-course tasting menu (at WD-50) also filled us to the gills, but was absolutely critical in soaking up the awesome arsenal of insane wines to which we would be privy on this special night.

I was sitting at the bar for about twenty minutes, not knowing that Jeff and The Punisher were waiting patiently in a booth in the back. I finally called The Punisher, perplexed as to how both of them could be so late – was my calendar wrong? This was the right restaurant, no? I was not wrong in either regard. Bad hostess, bad bad bad bad girl! Thankfully, I hadn’t missed much. Jeff and The Punisher were casually sipping on a 1900 Pichon Baron and had not gotten any further. In advance, Jeff offered up a 1989 Rayas, and I a 1993 Mugnier Musigny, although I changed up to a 1978 Ponsot Clos de la Roche at the last second due to circumstance…and still had the Mugnier, of course, just in case. The Punisher had assured us in advance that he ‘should be able to find something,’ and knowing his cellar already, that was good enough for us.

Ok, time for some notes. The 1900 Pichon Baron had a deep nose, still with a wealth of fruit despite a healthy whiff of oak at first. Aromas of peanut and walnut were also there, and with some extended aeration and swirling action, the oak settled down into more of a benevolent cedar, along with some creepy caramel and sawdust. The palate was rich and luscious. The Punisher remarked how he liked the ‘nose more than the mouth,’ and Jeff agreed, finding it ‘a hair short and a bit taut,’ but make no doubt about it, this bottle was in fabulous condition, still fresh for age 109 despite no signs of reconditioning. It was a natural fresh; it doesn’t get any better than that for old wine. There was a little bit of locker room funk that emerged, but this ancient rarity was still a tasty treat and an impressive bottle (92).

We jumped into my 1978 Ponsot Clos de la Roche. It was actually graciously given to me to taste from a case by a potential seller, as some of the color was off in a few but not all of the bottles, per his ethical acknowledgement. The nose was at first minty, beefy and chocolaty, also ‘foresty’ per The Punisher. Hints of tea rounded out its nose. The palate was rich and round, tender yet long, and tasty in a sweet, brothy, bouillon way with a hint of citrus. Autumnal flavors of forest and damp earth were present, along with game, browned fruit, beef and chocolate. There was still nice tannin definition to its cedary finish, and the wine possessed a little bit of that good dirty. The Punisher grimaced. ‘It is moving in a stewed direction.’ The wine was a bit exotic and unfortunately a bit affected, still good but not a perfect bottle (94A).

Jeff’s 1989 Rayas Chateauneuf du Pape followed, and it needed to be woken up a bit. A first there was a lot of sweet cherry, but in a cough syrupy way, with enough menthol in its nose to clear any sinus on any occasion. The palate was rich, hearty, decadent and delicious. Jeff questioned ‘a touch of volatile acidity?’ The Punisher noted, ‘Riesling diesel.’ The wine had amazing power and acidity, not to mention its sweet concentration. Its cherry flavors were superb, and garrigue and white pepper balanced it out perfectly. One could pick at it and call it ‘too sweet,’ but it was pretty delicious to me, and a wine that will age a long time (95+).

It was at this point where The Punisher took over. He told us how he recently bought this old cellar where the Pichon Baron came from and had brought a few others from it to try to make sure the cellar was good. Enter 1918 Ducru Beaucaillou. The Punisher was having a case of ‘deja-vu,’ as he felt ‘like I just drank this wine.’ The Ducru was lighter than the Pichon Baron, also possessing more sour cherry in the nose. The palate was a bit yeasty at first, with some morning mouth flavors on its finish and fruit that I would call on the tired side, despite the condition of the bottle being fine and fresh per my note on the Baron. Flavors of citrus, wheat, sour cherry and dust were here, and the wine grew on me, as I was again impressed by the condition of the wine, even if it was, perhaps, past its prime. Jeff picked up on secondary ‘butterscotch’ aromas, which I saw in a dry way. There were cobwebs on its tangy finish (90).

The Punisher pulled out a 1925 Mouton Rothschild next as if it was another weapon to help him carry out wine justice. Jeff immediately noted, ‘pretty Asian spice,’ and The Punisher ‘strawberry.’ Jeff countered with ‘tobacco and truffles.’ The Punisher then finished the rally with ‘a touch of salty vinegar and metal on the end.’ I saw all that and then some. The nose was like cobwebs meeting biscuits, and it was divinely sweet in a restrained and refined way. I was really digging the nose on this ’25, which I believe is the first Bordeaux I have ever even had from this rarely seen vintage. Its front and mid-palates were great, although the finish did have some of that awkward metal. Light Asian tea flavors and ‘rhubarb’ per Jeff were upfront in the mouth, and while the wine was soft and bright, its citrus flavors were a touch too tart (?), I questioned, and Jeff chimed in on that ‘hint of metal.’ With a little more air, its citrus flavors became great, and the palate leaned on the sexy side in a ballerina way with light brothy qualities. Light beef and previous citrus flavors gave way to old cherry vanilla ones in the end, and overall, this was an excellent Mouton, perhaps never to be experienced again (93).

‘Let’s try some ’01 Lafite,’ The Punisher pronounced. Jeff had to stop himself. He was wondering, why are we going to try something so young now, until he realized it was the 1901 Lafite Rothschild. Like, duh :). The nose said ‘wow,’ roaring to reveal this decadent, toasted caramel like Smores without the chocolate, made with caramel instead, and a hand-made Guy Savoy caramel at that. Jeff kicked in ‘gingerbread,’ and that he ‘would have guessed Right Bank’ if the wine had been served blind. This, too, had a light, deft edge that the previous wines from this cellar showed and again was fresh and lively. The palate had nice citrus hints and ‘light brown sugar’ flavors. This wine was absolutely delicious, and I loved it, giving it three yums. Even at the end of the night, it was still delicious, still classy and incredibly distinguished. Move over, 1900 (96+).

The Punisher was just warming up. I swear I heard the click of a shotgun, and out came a 1904 Lafite Rothschild. The sibling rivalry was on. There was more citrus in the ’04, and more floral qualities to its sweetness, but we could all see it was a sibling to the ’01. The 1904 was much lighter in the mouth, however, and no ’01 for sure. It had wafer and water flavors along with sour cherry, dust and cobwebs in an old cupboard. It was still pleasant but its palate didn’t live up to its nose; it was a big drop off (88).

The vertical continued with a 1905 Lafite Rothschild, which had a deeper and darker nose than the previous two and was the first of the Lafites to show black fruits in its nose. There was also this hint of windshield wiper, but not in a negative way. Again the palate was on the lighter side. These weren’t hallmark vintages, of course, so that should not be a surprise for hundred year-old wines from years that are not from those ‘vintages of the century.’ The palate was also round, possessing waterfall flavors and again those dusty cobwebs, this time wrapped around old books (90).

There was one more Lafite to this impromptu flight, a 1907 Lafite Rothschild. I asked the sommelier for his thoughts, to which he replied that it had ‘the most grip and is a lot bloodier in its flavors.’ The Punisher playfully asked me if I was trying to get the sommelier to write my notes for me lol. The 1907 was the most classic in my book, possessing rich cassis and cedar in its nose. There were flavors of band-aids and strawberry soup on the palate, which was again lighter but more substantial than the 1905. It developed nice baked aromas as well (92).

It was Mouton’s turn again, beginning with the 1929 Mouton Rothschild, whose nose was intriguing and exciting. It was deep, long and smoky and clearly great claret. It had hickory, cassis and cedar aromas, all working well together. The palate was another wine that could best be described as delicious. Rich and sweet, it had both great fruit and great finish, with coffee flavors on its long backside. It was saucy with black cherry flavors and a hint of grill. The only negative was that it got a touch figgy in the glass after some time, pulling it down from outstanding back into the excellent zone, even though that initial impression was without a doubt outstanding (94).

The 1928 Mouton Rothschild made for an interesting comparison. I have always liked both these vintages for Mouton despite a lack of critical acclaim, and this evening reinforced my internal beliefs. Jeff resurfaced to find the ’28 ‘minty,’ although The Punisher was a bit concerned with some ‘cardboard’ at first. I saw what he was saying, but likened it more to an un-fresh bathroom edge, with hints of chlorine, although black fruits kept trying to fight their way through. Thankfully, the ’28 tasted far better than it smelled. The ’28 was rich and chocolaty, beefy and saucy. There were lots of Vitamin C flavors surrounding its dusty and zippy, rich fruit. The Punisher noted ‘mushroomy’ qualities and found ‘the nose better on ’29, but the mouth better on ’28.’ The Punisher also found that the ’29 softened in the glass, as well, and I agreed that while the two were close in quality now, as time continues, the 1928 will distance itself more as the better wine. Only in Bordeaux can a wine at age eighty still have time to outdistance another similar vintage! Jeff was in the ’29 camp, however, rating it one point higher ‘for elegance.’ The ’28 got better and better, and its nose became integrated and less awkward (96).

I don’t think I could have eaten another crumb or drank another drop. It was at this point that I had to say, ‘I think that cellar’s good.’ What a cellar, and what a night. Somehow, I think that if we didn’t throw in the towel, we could have stayed until every bottle in The Punisher’s wine bag was done.

I bowed down before the wine superhero before me, meagerly offering up my unopened 1993 Mugnier as a token of my gratitude. It quickly got sucked into his arsenal with the ease of a gun being put back into the holster of a marksman. As I stumbled out of WD-50 into the cold, rainy New York night, all I could hear was the crowd cheering, ‘Ed-die, Ed-die, Ed-die….’

FIN

JK

VINTAGE TASTINGS - A Trio of Krugs

On my last trip to Hong Kong, I was fortunate to sit down to a late dinner where only Krug was served, centered around a trio of 1996s, including the recently released Clos d’Ambonnay. New CEO Maggie Henriquez was in town, and we celebrated the then upcoming lots sourced directly from Krug’s cellars with some Krug, of course.

The 1996 Krug Clos du Mesnil was intense and deep like an abyss in its nose. Minerals, rocks, light citrus, wet earth and wheat aromas were present. There was still elegance in what could be called its sadistic nose, its power whipping my senses over and over again. The palate was lightning in a bottle; there was enough acidity for University chemistry courses. Someone remarked, ‘1996 is a 10/10 vintage for its acidity and alcohol.’ It would be tough to argue that this is not the Champagne of the vintage (98+).

The 1996 Krug Clos d'Ambonnay was more perfumed and sexier than the Clos du Mesnil. It was softer and more tender in its aromas, exuding hints of lime and 'lemon soap.' It was still quite deep and expansive. On the palate, it was elegant, and tender came to mind again. Its smooth and satiny style charmed me while its vim and spice picked my pocket. While classy and stylish, it was still powerful and possessed tremendous acidity. Decadent flavors of bread soaked in oil emerged. Tasting side by side with the 1996 Mesnil, they struck me as the perfect husband and wife, with the d'Ambonnay being all woman, and I say that with only the best connotations in mind (97).

The little ol’ ‘regular’ 1996 Krug wasn’t too shabby, either. It was clean, fresh and classic, quite zippy itself and noticeably special, even after the two monarchs that preceded. The palate was long, spicy, edgy and longgg. It will be fascinating to have these three together for the decades to come (96).

It was a youngie but a goodie night, as any night when Krug is served is. There is Champagne, and there is Krug…

FIN

JK

VINTAGE TASTINGS - In Europe In Love

I often title consignments we get directly from Europe ‘From Europe with Love,’ as I always love to get collections directly from there, and this November, I was in Europe on a couple of occasions and in love thanks to some fantastic wines and meals. Whenever in Europe, I am always in awe of the quality of food. From the everyday gas station quick mart to the greatest of restaurants, the food is far finer when it comes to Europe, and so are many of the wines. Thankfully, they sell more than they buy when it comes to the best of wines – wine is almost regarded more like an everyday beverage, adult cola if you will. However, there still remain many incredible wines nestled away in some extraordinary cellars, as well as on numerous wine lists across the continent.

One of my trips was on the way to Hong Kong and begun near Milan, on a quiet little Lake named Como. I was there for a conference, but it was a lunch on the day of my arrival that was most noteworthy, consumption-wise, at least. It was an international get-together including a few fellow Americans and some European trade members. Lunch was actually in Switzerland, a mere ten minute drive away, and we pillaged a local wine list to celebrate our arrival.

We started with a 2005 Didier Dageneau Pouilly Fume Silex, one of the world’s most collectible Sauvignon Blancs. Dageneau recently passed away tragically while piloting his own plane. Although I had never met him, those that knew him say that he was one of the most adventurous people they have each encountered. The Silex was quite wound, full of structure, tight and pungent with lots of wooden match and icy yellow fruit aromas, with hints of minerals and pee. Its fruit was quite rich for a Sauv Blanc. Kevin found it ‘very tight’ as well, and it was quite shut down although lush. Kelly observed ‘grapefruit’ in the nose. Someone on a later date told me not to drink his wines for 10-15 years, and this ’05 showed me why. The flavors that did show were pungent. There were nice hints of tea on its finish, and Gil was admiring its hidden acidity. It did linger in the belly (92+).

It was truffle season, so we complemented a great pasta and truffle course with a 2001 Clerico Barolo Ginestra. Ironically, I had just had this wine four days prior in New York. It both started my week in New York and my weekend in Europe. It was classic Piedmont with its nose of leather, tar and pine nuts. Gil observed, ‘tomato salsa.’ There was lots of intense structure and great black fruits along with a hint of black jam, anise and mint chocolate. Kelly found ‘a lot of oak.’ The palate was thick on its finish, and a lot of oak did linger on its backside. It hinted at flavors of leather, tar and anise. The finish was smackingly good in that Barolo way (94).

A pair of 2005 Burgundies set the stage for a celebrity death match. The 2005 Rousseau Chambertin Clos de Beze was full of baby fat, although its fruit was still sexy with its red roses and raspberries. The wine had big lift in its nose but was so elegant at the same time. I think Kelly observed ‘Miracle Whip,’ to which Gil concurred, though he varied a bit, citing ‘more the blender ozone with the whip cream, totally with the metal.’ I found forest and crushed fruits. Kevin found it ‘very primary.’ The palate had hints of taut red fruits, forest and vitamins to go with leathery, stemmy flavors. There was definition and true grit here, but I found it almost too young to appreciate, and while still sexy, the wine that followed made it seem lighter and dare I say lesser (95+).

The 2005 DRC La Tache had a much deeper nose with blacker fruits, more crushed and with more tea. There were also hints of citrus and wooden match again. The palate was grand but closed at first. It was long and stylish, complicated but so young. ‘See you in twenty years,’ I wrote. As I said before, when I went back to the Rousseau, the La Tache stood out more. It was deep, dark, black, large and in charge. I think King Angry has a fantasy about that, the 2005 La Tache, that is. It got better with each sip, flexing just a bit more when I thought it possibly couldn’t. It is one of the great young wines I have tasted (98).

We ended with a blind wine that had a nice nose for something very old, but not for a wine from 1985. The 1985 Pousse d’Or Volnay Clos des 60 Ouvrees had lots of animal and sweet, kinky fruit, along with leather, game and some Syrah bacon. There were also hints of powdered sugar, ‘the leather of Barolo’ per Kelly, big-time garden and lots of alcohol and acidity. Gil found ‘hints of B vitamin 6 and 12 and sautéed liver.’ Despite all that going on in the nose, the wine was tired on the palate, a bit rusty and with lots of citrus flavors. It was clearly an affected bottle, advanced and a bit cooked (91A).

The weekend had its share of interesting encounters, like dinner with Luciano Sandrone, lunch with Piero Antinori, a drink with Charles Banks as well as seeing some familiar friends such as Eric Rousseau and Louis Michel Liger-Belair. I tasted a pair of 2007s from Rousseau, the Clos St. Jacques and Clos de Beze, and I was impressed with them both. I asked Eric to compare 2007 to other vintages, and after some hesitation, he finally said that it was a combination of 2002 and 2001 if anything. I also grilled Sandrone about Italian vintages and his opinion of them all relative to each other, thanks to some deft translation courtesy of Gil. Here’s the brief synopsis: first, I asked him about 1989 vs. 1990, perhaps the two greatest back-to-back vintages in Italian history. Interestingly enough, Sandrone felt that almost no one hit the bullseye for both vintages; those that made great 1989s had issues in 1990 and visa-versa. When asked of the other three vintages from the ‘80s, (’82, ’85 and ’88), Sandrone felt that 1988s are really good wines, but they will always be in the shadow of the ‘89s and ‘90s. 1985s are starting to dry up, but 1982 is the true classic vintage that will continue to age for years to come. He gave the edge to 2001 over 2004, and the sleeper vintage that everyone seems to have forgotten is 1999, which he clearly feels made some great wines despite the fact that no one seems to notice at the moment. I could have sworn I asked him about 1996 vs. 1997, with 1996 prevailing, but I am not completely sure of that last one!

Happy Birthday to Me

My second trip to Europe took me to a top secret location and an extraordinary cellar, one that I was working on for our January auction. The depth and quantity here is extraordinary, and the older wines are in particularly spectacular condition. I was in awe of it for most of the weekend, and I am very excited to be representing it. I was most in awe for the two dinners where we sampled wines from the cellar, the first evening which saw me celebrate my 38th birthday. I hear the combination of three and eight is very lucky, and I am looking forward to this coming year accordingly.

The wines were served blind, and mercifully we were not left guessing for too long. The first wine on this starry night was a Champagne, one that I thought was a Rose but ultimately was not. I did guess late ‘60s/early 70s, and it was a 1971 Lanson Red Label, their top of the line cuvee at the time. Lanson made some great Champagne in the ‘70s; this I already knew, and this bottle backed up that fact. There were aromas of sweet faded roses, dried strawberry and breath mints, along with hints of dark chocolate and earth. There was nice, light petillance in the mouth, and our host noted flavors of ‘creamy caramel brioche.’ There were more citrus flavors on its really good finish, and its acidity was long and stylish, blending well with the citrus. Its flavors were sweet with hints of oil and more earth. I was surprised to see that it wasn’t Rose, but we were convinced that there was definitely a higher concentration of Pinot Noir in the blend. Great strawberry jam flavors developed in this outstanding bubbly (95).

A pair of whites followed, and the color was noticeably different in the two. The first was much lighter and hence younger. It almost gave off a Sauvignon Blanc impression in the nose, but its palate was definitively Chardonnay. The nose was clean and fresh with a pungent core; it was taut and citrusy, wrapped around an obsidian-like minerality on a bed of honeysuckle fruit. The palate was very rich with lots of acidity and noticeably strong alcohol. Its honeysuckle qualities came on stronger and stronger and were joined by acacia. This 2002 Comtes Lafon Meursault Genevrieres had been open for an hour. It was another testament to the 2002 vintage, the most forgotten of the great vintages. Everyone talks about 1999 and 2005; even 2001 and 2006 get more recognition it seems, although I am talking reds, really, but even the whites seem to be less discussed in the context of greatness. This ’02 was loaded with Chardonnay fruit and flesh, and its minerals and acidity were superb. The only flaw was this spike of alcohol, but it didn’t detract from the wine for me (95).

The second white we got a clue – ‘same wine, different vintage. It was a 1992 Comtes Lafon Meursault Genevrieres, a nice pair with the ’02. The nose was sweet and buttery, full of tropical mango and kinky corn with a drop of heavy cream. The palate was rich, round and tangy with golden raisin and sunned fruit flavors. The acidity was still solid even though the wine was fatty and a bit over-ripe as ’92 whites are prone to be. This was still about as tasty a 1992 as I have had in a while, and while the sun is slowly setting on this vintage, there was still goodness in a gamy, semi-sweet way. Secondary flavors of banana peel (from the inside out) and tangerine joined the party. The ’92 kept growing on me, and it was a bottle that came directly from Lafon’s cellars on release, in fact (94).

It was onto some reds, and another pair. The first wine I pegged 1999 Burgundy right away – the decadent fruit and rich, saucy and sexy style gave it away. It was deep and inky and edgy with its fruit. This wine had tremendous energy; the tannins and alcohol had that boom boom pow. The wine was incredibly rich and powerful on the palate as well, and the acidity was of superhero status. Our host found it akin to ‘eating berries off the tree’ as it was so concentrated. There were deep black fruits in this wow wine, and I was shocked to see it was the 1999 Claude Dugat Gevrey Chambertin Lavaux St. Jacques, as it was better than the Griottes that I had had just a month prior. On cue, our host made a glowing comment about the quality of his cellar, of course. It did get a little drier in the glass as more skin aka tannins started to show (95+).

The second wine was another that I had had within the past month, but this time the US bottle showed much better. This bottle of 1999 Rousseau Gevrey Chambertin Clos St. Jacques was very sulfury. There was barn, animal, cedar and hay behind it, and our host also found it ‘gassy.’ Touches of garden rounded out the nose, but the gas dominated, for sure. The flavors were more on the candied red fruit side with a hint of rust, along with popcorn. The bottle was not exactly right, as the glorious other bottle I recently had would attest. Somehow, too much sulfur made its way into a batch of this wine, and here was one of them (93A).

The next wine was unfortunately corked, and it was a 1971 DRC Grands Echezeaux, in honor of my birth year. Rats (DQ).

The next wine was also from my birth year, a 1971 Gros Frere et Soeur Richebourg. Its creamy nose was full of barbecue aromas along with the horseradish and brown sugar that often accompany BBQ. It was rich and saucy, also displaying distinct green olive aromas. The palate was rich, saucy and hearty, although it had some skunked keg flavors on its finish, which was also likened to ‘old furniture.’ It was ‘not so clean with some chemical qualities, but also minerals and vitamins,’ our host commented. Kisses of tobasco, game and cherry rounded out the palate in this fleshy red, which was still excellent despite some unusual edges (93).

The next wine had a great nose, with this 7up sexiness to go with citrus and black cherry. It was rich and sexy, more hearty on the palate. The finish was big and gritty, displaying lots of minerals and flavors of olive and slate. It was very Burgundian in style, so I was surprised to see this be a 1971 Certan de May! It was a ‘wow’ wine for sure, and a pet wine of our host’s (95).

The next wine had a hint of oxidation, paint-like in its impression, although our host insisted we give it some time to allow that paint ‘to crack off.’ The palate was decadent, rich, oily and thick with hints of port and ‘layers.’ It was still rich and saucy and what I would consider an outstanding wine despite the nose, as it was cleaner on the palate, and air continued to benefit the wine, as flavors of chocolate and bread pudding developed. Our host smiled after the wine, and all of us, came around, admiring its ‘bakery’ aromas and how it was ‘packed with fruit and acidity.’ It was a 1945 Certan de May (96).

We ended our meal with a 1990 Jacques Selosse, one of the great producers in Champagne who still seems to be under the radar, perhaps due to his dizzying array of non-vintage bottlings. The nose was cream city, make that cream soda city, very Krug-like in its personality with rich vanilla aromas that were also almost beefy, or ‘coq au vin’ as someone commented. In the mouth, the Selosse was long and decadent yet fine and elegant. Our host noted, ‘rich with good acidity…fat’ (95).

We didn’t end our night, however. We went back to the cellar for a healthy midnight raid, beginning with a 1986 Domaine Leflaive Chevalier Montrachet. Healthy and forward aromas of corn, butter, stalk, cream and nut were all over the nose, developing into a hybrid of corn nuts and hazelnuts. There were rainwater flavors in this round and mature ’86, as well as lots of corn ones including candy. This was about as good as 1986 gets now, a vintage to drink up and enjoy (94).

The last wine on this extraordinary night was an also extraordinary 1961 Palmer. There were lots of cobwebs at first in this ancient wonder, but they blew off into black cherry dust, spice and ‘mushrooms.’ Flavors of chocolate shavings and earth were present in this round, tender, soft yet sturdy wine. It was dust city on its hearty finish, a classic claret all the way (96).

It was a definite happy birthday to me.

And then there was the night after, a quiet get-together of just me and my host after a hard day’s work in the cellar, with three more extraordinary wines selected, beginning with an incredible bottle of 1955 Roederer. Acquired from the cellar of a Belgian castle, this bottle, despite some wear and tear on the outside, had an amazing color and fill. Thankfully, there are 12 more in our January auction! The bottle was amazingly fresh, its bubbles popping in the glass upon first pour. Aromas of honey, tea, dried fig, straw, orange blossoms and ‘green apples’ were everywhere in its complex nose. The palate was delicious, long and with great effervescence, impossible to stop sipping. A hint of meat/game/animal developed in the nose, and our sommelier eagerly added, ‘pink grapefruit.’ My host wisely commented, ‘what you have in the nose, you get on the taste, and that is a sign of a great wine.’ I just couldn’t stop drinking it, and caramel started to take over its palate in time. It was clearly outstanding and flirting with that next level, best wines of my life category, but I left it on the border (96+).

The next bottle was one we took a chance on, a low-fill 1961 Rayas Chateauneuf du Pape. ‘It’s aliiiiiive,’ I smiled. It was another low fill Burgundy/Rhone that proved to be outstanding, another feather in Mr. Jaeger’s cap regarding his theory of lower fill bottles from these regions. ‘Cooked strawberry marmalade,’ my host admired, and he didn’t mean that the wine was cooked, it was just the aroma he found. It was a ‘wow’ wine, so sweet and sexy with amazing spice. Plum, boysenberry and cassis were all there, wrapped in a decadent musk. Additional flavors of bamboo shoot, new leather and a hint of truffles were there; it was another wine I could not stop drinking. ‘Burgundy-like, except for the alcohol,’ my host keenly observed. There was great tension; this was a wine that would make aspiring rappers want to ‘smack that.’ Candle wax emerged after extended time. It was another wine right on the border of the greatest of all-time, but it didn’t last as long in the glass, perhaps a combination of its age as well as its fill catching up to it a little (96).

The third wine of the night was a rare 1967 Bruno Giacosa Barbaresco Asili Riserva Speciale. Tar and leather were the first things I noticed in the nose, but also lavender and ‘white flowers’ balancing it out. It was a desert storm of a nose, with additional hints of black rose, fig, tobacco, spice and spine, along with huge alcohol and acidity, plus a little coconut skin. The palate was full-bodied with loads of tar and charcoal but this awkward edge on its finish at first. The fruit was sweet, but the finish ‘not that long.’ There was good spice, excellent flex and definition still. It was a perplexing wine, as one sip would be great, and the next awkward, but one of the best lamb dishes that I have ever had kept it on the greater side, and flavors of chocolate-covered cigar developed. It held well in the glass, gaining in time and ultimately proving to be close to outstanding (94+).

There was one more wine on this night, a 1997 Giacomo Conterno Barolo Monfortino Riserva, generously given as a gift by the restaurant. How come they don’t do that in New York :). It first came across rich, lush and hearty with a long, leathery personality that alternated between stroking me and slapping me between its fruit and finish. The palate was quite gamy and figgy, though. It ‘reminds me of a garage St. Emilion, slightly overripe,’ my host noted, adding, ‘but I like it.’ Its backhand was wicked, but its forehand was fruity and figgy and honestly tough to drink compared to the three classics also on the table. It did hold in the glass and hinted at more potential, but like many 1997s, they might not last as long as people think (93+).

Memorable meals in memorable places with memorable people are just enough to make me fall in love, especially in Europe, where the food and wine can be as good as it gets.

FIN

JK

VINTAGE TASTINGS - EMP

One of the best meals I have had this Fall was at Eleven Madison Park, or ‘EMP’ as the kool kids like to say. Chef Daniel Humm, known and respected by a couple of my most significant European collector friends, showed us why he is top of his game with a custom tasting menu fit for a king. It just so happened that we had a king at our table, King Angry, that is, but after the spectacular meal that followed, even King Angry had a smile on his face. Special thanks goes to Carl for organizing such a wonderful meal.

We started with a pair of Krug mags, beginning with a 1990 Krug. This was as great a bottle of this that I have ever had. Its nose was perfect, a great mix of vanilla and citrus with hints of nut. The palate had a great center, a linearity from start to finish that made my spine arch. Long, citrusy and zippy, this outstanding and bready bubbly was focused and in charge. I could have drunk it all night long and been quite happy (96M).

The just released 1985 Krug Collection was more pungent, very wheaty and grassy. Minnesota Slim found it ‘yeasty.’ Just disgorged last year, the 1985 was tighter than a nun’s knees, coming across too young and too recently disgorged, to be frank. The flavors were also grassy, and its finish long, fine and grainy. Chalky and limestony, the Collection had lots of potential, but was just too young and too ‘RD’ for me at the moment. It was tough to drink next to the 1990 (93+M).

There was only one blind flight for the night, and it was reserved for the whites. The flight was single blind, as we knew what the wines were, but not in what order they were served. Leflaive and Niellon Batards and Chevaliers were our subjects, and 1996 was the vintage.

The first white smelled like 1996 and popped like fresh kernels, which made me think Leflaive. The King called it ‘obvious.’ It was smoky and toasty with lots of forest, cream and yellow fruits. The nose was thick, long and sexy, but the palate was softer than I thought it would be. It was round with yellow and waterfall flavors, also with nice dust and spice on its finish. JP noted, ‘a little bit of bubblegum’ in this 1996 Domaine Leflaive Chevalier Montrachet. I should add that we did not know the name of the wine until all of them were tasted and discussed (94).

The second white was cleaner, more floral in style. There were aromas of fireplace and brick, a veritable white Christmas of a nose. The nose was regal, long and full of spice. If the first was Leflaive, this was definitely Niellon. The palate was rich and lush, sexy with its white fruits and tender with a delicate wintry edge. The floral qualities were divine and delicious in this 1996 Niellon Batard Montrachet (95+).

The third wine had the same style as the first with its kernel, toast, musk, waterfall and smoke. JP was loving ‘the clean, razor-cut acidity.’ There were lots of kernel and toast flavors on its round and lush palate, but again there was this tender side. There was still excellent pop and definitely more acidity and length than its sibling. Although a touch was missing up front in the mouth, its big acidity more than made up for it. Since the next wine was corked, and this was the 1996 Domaine Leflaive Batard Montrachet, this was a day of Batard over Chevalier, ‘rare’ in Ray’s book (95).

As indicated, the 1996 Niellon Chevalier Montrachet was unfortunately corked (DQ).

The next course was foie gras, and the obligatory Sauternes came out, a 1988 Climens. I didn’t taste it. I know that it is a great pairing, but I do not like having a sweet wine in the middle of my dry wines, as it can affect the next few wines and diminish one’s tasting abilities.

The 1995 Krug Clos du Mesnil that followed was an excellent palate cleanser. Champagne is the only wine that is great before, during and after a meal. It fits in everywhere you put it, and this Krug was no exception. Aromas of cream, butter, vanilla, musk and yeast graced its nose, all supported by wood, almost a bamboo. The palate was dry, lean and long. The finish was exceptional, but this was very lean and dry. Perhaps 1995s will blossom, but that is typical of the vintage, one that I feel is very good but not great (94).

It was time for some reds, some Rousseaus to be exact, beginning with the 1985 Rousseau Chambertin. When asked to share my notes, I began with ‘milky, foresty, yeasty.’ Young Chris remarked how he didn’t like the Rousseau, to which I replied something far too undistinguished to write again here. The Rousseau was also beefy and saucy, and Worcestershire and tree bark came out. It was a bit dirty in a mushroomy way. The palate was round and rich, soft yet lush, tender but long. Two sips resulted in two sneezes, which is always a sign of outstanding in my book :). The third sip showed me its tender side, but the acidity remained constant. JP also noted the ‘mushroom,’ and it got redder over time (95).

The 1991 Rousseau Chambertin was all about its oak at first, that and some burnt popcorn. Vitamins and sour cherry slowly but surely fought through, and the wine found itself eventually. The palate was rich, lush and long, balancing out to reveal great definition and length. Its flavors of cedar, tree bark, forest and leather all had me licking the roof of my mouth. Once the oak blew off, the wine was fantastic, but in the end, after the last sips were said and drunk, the 1985s were one step ahead (94+).

The 1991 Leroy Chambertin that followed was deeper and much darker with its noticeably blacker fruits. There was oil in dem der hills for sure. This was a midnight wine, and JP admired its ‘spice.’ The King chipped in with ‘velvety, silky and smoother.’ The palate was also rich and lush showing that 1991 goodness, and its finish was grapy and grainy (94).

The 1985 Rousseau Chambertin Clos de Beze backed up the 1985 is greater than 1991 theory. There was much more perfume to the Beze. Tender and lush was again the theme, and lavender took over its perfume while spice emerged. The palate was delicious with super fruit and great roundness. Pinches of vitamins rounded out this beauty (95).

We continued the ’85 vs. ’91 battle with a pair of Contis. The 1985 DRC Grands Echezeaux had a spectacular nose that sung all the great qualities of 1985 in that unique DRC way. Aromas of rust, menthol, red fruits (rusty ones again) and iron were present in its tense, zippy, pungent and deep nose. The palate was rich, long and saucy, still young with taut fruits and lingering acidity. It was a tightrope walker of a wine, balancing its fruit and finish components deftly in delicious fashion. Many hailed it as wine of the night (95+).

JP remarked how the 1991 DRC Grands Echezeaux ‘needs time.’ It was blacker in its fruit, also possessing aromas of menthol, forest and bread soaked in something. The palate was thick, big and young, again with lots of black fruits and very good in a beef bouillon way. There were hints of garden here as well, but midnight struck and its fruit was nowhere to be found, as the wine shut down in the glass rather than open more (93).

A trio of 1985 Guigal La La’s were last, plus a bonus wine. Practice agreed with theory for this flight, at least in my book. I was not loving the 1985 Guigal Cote Rotie La Turque. There were aromas of lavender, bacon, menthol and gyro meat. Its palate had olive and dark fruit flavors but was also a touch oaky, and the wine was simpler than I wanted it to be (93).

The 1985 Guigal Cote Rotie La Landonne was beefier, bigger and thicker than the La Turque. There was more stone, wheat, chocolate and sprinkles on top. The palate was long and thick with excellent acidity. It was more classic Cote Rotie and smacked around the La Turque (95).

The 1985 Guigal Cote Rotie La Mouline was the best of the bunch – what else is new? It was the sexiest of the three, with aromas of bacon, leather, grilled meat and gyro juice. Meaty and fragrant, it had that whiff of Viognier along with complex black fruit, leather and lavender flavors. It was great and WOTN for me, although JP stuck to his ’85 DRC gun (97).

There was also a 1990 Guigal Cote Rotie La Mouline, but I was kind of spent. It was quite peppery and also outstanding, pretty and precious (95).

It was the night before auction and time to check out, not a creature who came would stir in their house.

FIN

JK

VINTAGE TASTINGS - Latour at Latour

There is a restaurant named Latour tucked away an hour outside of New York City in New Jersey, within the confines of a very special place, Crystal Springs Golf Resort. It is a great place for a weekend getaway of golfing or skiing (depending on the season), spa-ing, eating, drinking or even just relaxing in the hotel room with a loved one…playing backgammon, of course :). I was there for the eating and drinking part, as the restaurant was hosting a very special vertical of Chateau Latour back to 1955, guided by none other than Frederic Engerer, president of Chateau Latour.

By the way, the wine list at Restaurant Latour is one of the country’s finest, and the prices are fantastic. The night prior, I had a bottle of 1982 Vieux Chateau Certan off the list for $195. The half-bottle of 1999 Lafite had just sold out earlier in the week. It was $95 on the list! I think you get the picture. The VCC was classic with its aromas of deep plum, olive and chocolate. It was very elegant, round and supple. It showed the tender side of 1982 and felt like it was entering its plateau. Traces of garden rounded out its finish (93).

Back to the main event…our evening of Latour started with the 2004 Latour, which had a sweet, sexy nose, ripe with its cassis and carob and framed by nut, pencil and cedar. Its fruit dominated at this young stage, and hints of lilac, lavender and jasmine were present. In the mouth, the wine was round, supple and soft, very shut down at the moment, especially when compared to the nose. It was not giving a lot, and G-man found that it had ‘too much pencil and was missing some legs.’ Engerer commented how ‘Cabernet doesn’t need heat, it needs light’ (92).

All wines were opened and double decanted about three hours before the event, which gave all the wines a very polished quality. I couldn’t help but wonder if a score or two might have been different were they not so aerated, as some wines may have given a more vigorous impression. Regardless, everything showed beautifully. They were also scanned by the restaurant’s patented machine, which detects any level of corkiness or oxidized qualities in any wine.

We sat down to a pair of 2006 and 2005. Engerer told us that this evening ‘is about pairs.’ The 2006 Latour was more classic, still possessing excellent fruit but also more minerals and earth. It was still purple passion with its deep, youthful cassis in the nose, but it also had more tobacco and structural components. The palate had excellent acidity and lots of earth and cedar flavors. It was long and lingered, and even though its fruit was a bit shy, it was still tasty and showy. Its perfume filled up the room. Engerer commented how the 2006 did not have ‘the breed of 2005…but long and deep’ (94+).

The 2005 Latour was very wound, showing lots of cinnamon, leather and earth. It was dark and brooding, with hints of whitewall tire. The brooding continued on its big, rich palate. Sandy and earthy, there was also a nice hint of bitters here. It was really deep and impressive in its size, even though it was a bit shy. The acidity was long, but the 2005 was definitely more secondary than primary. G-man admired ‘a lot of raw materials, and well-integrated compared to 2006,’ even though the 2006 was more inviting (96).

The next pair was ’03 and ’02. ‘Wow, what sauvage’ came from G. The ’03 was very forward in that ripe 2003 style, roasted as well, again with that hint of rubber tire. It continued to gain in stature in the glass, possessing more structure than the typical 2003 Latour with noticeable alcohol and acidity. Toasty caramel emerged. The palate was rich, ripe, big and delicious. This was a ‘show me the money’ wine, hedonistic and sexy with lots of slate on its finish. ‘Very showy,’ someone remarked. Engerer said, ‘the ’03 comes to you, but you have to go to the ’02.’ I couldn’t help but love this ripe and rich 2003 (96).

Engerer commented, ‘I love the line in the ’02. It’s like a black star.’ I also loved its pointed nose; it was on the t ‘n a side with lots of cedar, carob, caramel and musk. Its sweetness was all caramel. The palate was linear and focused, zippy in the middle but lighter on its backside. The 2002 Latour was really good and much better than I thought it would be, gaining in the glass (94).

Engerer shared how he and Parker always debate these two vintages, and that Frederic always stands up for the 2002. The 2003 had Parker excited early, but for Frederic it was too easy and lacked the balance he yearns, and for him, the ’02 has that balance. I saw both sides of this debate!

The 2001 Latour was fragrant and perfumed, showing more violets than any previous wine. There was a sweet fragrance about it, leaving a nectar-like impression with this lavender honey quality. The palate was round, with nice pop to its long finish. Black fruits and dusty flavors rounded out this excellent ’01 (94).

The 2000 Latour had a wow nose. It was deep and dark, chocolaty and cedary, possessing lots of edge and qualities of carob and Egyptian cotton. The palate was thick, especially on its finish. Its backside was long and gritty for its glazed palate, and Engerer admired that the 2000 was ‘the best since 1982 in terms of balance, but today a little closed.’ He conceded, ‘I would probably want to drink the 2001 tonight’ (97).

1996 versus 1995 has always been an interesting head-to-head. The 1996 Latour had a fabulous nose with lots of nuts, windex, cedar, toast and cocoa. It was long and cedary, tight and minerally in its aromatics. The palate was long, dusty, lingering and tasty, possessing the most acidity of any Latour so far. It was ‘a whole different breed, on par with the 1961,’ someone commented. After some time in the glass, it became beefy and jammy; this was serious stuff (97).

The 1995 Latour was classic in the nose, similar to the 1996 with its minerals, dust and windex. This was closer than I thought it would be, and the finish of the ’95 stood up to the ’96. The 1995 had excellent thickness and body, showing a little more than the 1996 although overall possessing a little less (95).

We took a trip back in time with a flight of four older wines, beginning with the 1971 Latour. The ’71 was very bready with a pinch of pungency to the nose. It was also nutty and had nice fruit aromas of cassis and blueberry. The palate was rich and lush, a touch gamy and deliciously grapy, delivering a great drink of mature claret (94).

The 1962 Latour was beefy and brothy with a little wet cardboard in there. Hints of tobasco and pungent fruit marked its tangy aromas. The palate was fleshy and still zippy with great, pure flavors of plum and grape. Wholesome, round, tasty and lush, the 1962 was the second excellent bottle from this vintage that I have had in the past month, provoking some future curiosity (94).

The 1964 Latour had a nutty yet dirty nose, with lots of earth and a hint of cotton candy. It also had the cedar of ’64. The palate was round with lots of coffee, earth, cedar and tobacco flavors. It was pleasant, round and balanced, but a little cardboard-y on its finish (92).

The 1970 Latour was the last of this flight of four, and it proved to be the winner for me, by a nose, so to speak. The nose had this initial bread pudding quality to it, built off toast, raisin, game and black fruit aromas. Its flavors were the youngest, and there was great definition to this long and vimful Latour. A chalky and leathery intensity and hints of citrus separated this Latour from the rest. Some food made the power in this vintage stand out from the prior three (94+).

There were three more pairs on this evening, beginning with the modern-day heavyweight matchup of 1990 vs. 1982 Latour. The 1990 Latour was fresh and clean with nut, plum and spice aromas. It was rich, lush and seductive both in the nose and on the palate. Its cashmere tannins just melted in my mouth. Engerer found it ‘very extreme for Latour.’ It was so creamy and tasty, very forward and hedonistic with still enough stuffing for any turkey. It would be the first of three times for this wine in the coming month, and all three showed in the same decadently delicious way (96).

The 1982 Latour quickly rose to the top of the charts and took wine of the night honors. It was much more wound than the 1990, also with more minerals in its long, classic nose. Dust, cedar and more minerals kept surging out of the nose. The palate had so much length and strength, noticeably more so than any other wine on this starry night. While the 1990 was sexy, the 1982 was serious, and a wine that still stood out even four hours after being opened and decanted. Engerer commented how the ’82 was ‘sure of itself and surfed across your palate.’ He went on to comment how ‘all Latours gently age’ (98).

It was now time for the classic heavyweight matchup of 1961 vs. 1959. The 1961 Latour was a bottle released from Latour in 2003, and hence reconditioned. The nose was fabulous, with power, fruit and finesse all rolled into one. There were cassis and plum fruit aromas in this youthful Latour. Engerer found it ‘tighter than 1982, a bizarre accident of nature, with frost coming after flowering.’ The palate was gritty and long with lots of cedar flavors. G noted ‘coconut milk,’ while I did slate and cement on its finish. G did admit that there was ‘an element missing,’ and while there was outstanding definition to the finish, the fruit didn’t show the natural mature qualities I wanted. It got a little dirtier in the glass (95).

The 1959 Latour had so much more fruit, deep fruit, along with game and nut, and both G and I immediately preferred the ’59 to the ’61. There was more maturity, more open fruit, and a soft, lush, easy and pure personality. Its sheer deliciousness was tough to not like, and this bottle of 1959 definitely KO’d the 1961. Of course, at this age, it all comes down to the bottles. Hints of fig, game, truffle and chocolate sex appeal rounded out this impressive and original bottle of 1959 (97).

There were two more wines to go, although after the previous two pairs, almost anything would seem anti-climactic at this point, but the ’55 was up for the challenge. The 1955 Latour had a creamy, sexy nose with aromas of nut, A1 without the steak sauce, caramel, game, spice, citrus and leather from an S & M suit. It was rich, round and tasty, another sexy 1955. Caramel flavors and a hint of teabag were flat-out delicious. Engerer agreed, noting, ‘like ’62, a lot of energy’ (95).

There was a blind wine served at the end, a solid 1950 Latour. I didn’t have much left in me, but it was chalky, rich and with an excellent finish. It was a Latour, after all (93).

It was a special night at a special place, and a pleasure to have Frederic on hand to guide us through over fifty years of the greatest Latours.

FIN

JK

VINTAGE TASTINGS - Let's Play Two

Early October was a month of small get-togethers, a lot of one-on-one ball, so to speak. Despite a healthy wine market and a Dow that continues to flirt with 10,000, large celebrations have become a bit rarer, as conscious remains king in 2009. When dining a duo, usually two is the magic number as far as a bottle count goes, although three proved to be the right stuff for the first of four fine evenings over the course of a week or two. Does that add up?

There once was a man named Hans. He had a very big cellar. Hans was in town on his yearly pilgrimage to the US and we decided to get together for dinner, at a place called Veritas. They have been doing some good promotions of late and keeping people coming back for more.

We started with a bottle of 1990 Raveneau Chablis Valmur. 1990 was a great vintage for Chablis, and what better place to be than on top of the ladder with Raveneau. It didn’t disappoint with its nose of svelte yellow fruits, rain on rocks, minerals, wax and anise. It was lean yet still in fighting shape, fragrant with a hint of pungency. The palate was delicious, clean and fresh, showing mature roundess but still possessing solid acidity, tasty in that kinky Raveneau way. Rocks, anise and limy fruit balanced their way down the hatch in slippery yet agile fashion (95).

A rare bird followed, and I am not talking about the food. We grabbed the last bottle of 1955 Domaine de Chevalier Blanc off the list. Old white Bordeaux can be spectacular, even the dry ones, although this wine was extremely oaky at first. It took a lot of coaxing to get it to come into its own, but once it did, it was quite the wine. Its oak blew off into the classic straw, dry honey, glue and cement. The wine stll came across youthfully, amazingly fresh for a white 55 or so years old, and its palate kept pace with its nose. There was nice density in the mouth, still roundness and richness but in a graceful way, with flavors of straw, glue, dried yellow fruits and kisses of oak still married together after all these years. It was an excellent wine and a real treat, but make sure to remember that old white wines need aeration too (93).

The third wine on this enjoyable evening was a rare 1950 Ausone. It was a reconditioned bottle, but a job well done, and a bottle we enjoyed to the last drop. The nose was deeper accordingly, a bit fresher than one would normally expect for a wine this age, with a wave of purple fruit emerging first. After a swirl or two, more classic and mature wintry red aromas came, along with earth, stone barn and gravel. Light Christmas spice danced around gingerly, perhaps gingerbreadly. In the mouth, the wine showed both its sides – the original and reconditioned. It was a bit deeper and hinted at youth with its spectrum of fruit, but it still had classic aged St. Emilion flavors, especially the red fruits, earth, game, animal and tobacco. It was tough not to love it (95).

A day later I found myself drinking 1982 Mouton at Tse Yang. No, I was not by myself. It was a gorgeous bottle in beautiful condition and one of the more open bottles of this that I have had. I have always been impressed by the power of the 1982 Mouton, one of the few wines reticent to give into the hallmark elegance of the 1982 vintage. This bottle was starting to give in, perhaps softening up in its old age so to speak. The nose was everything claret should be – regal, refined, elegant and classy. It oozed out black fruit, dry cassis, pencil, earth and a hint of carob. This was open, sexy and singing. The palate was rich and round. There was strength in its silent finish, one that caressed and petted rather than smacked and attacked. It was long and round, almost frightfully delicious in its approachability. There is a lot of bottle variation amongst 1982s, so it is tough to make a consensus about this vintage, or any for that matter, based on the snapshot of one bottle, but this one sure made me think that the top 1982s could be starting to plateau, which for a great vintage in Bordeaux, could last decades, of course (97).

My friend and I snagged the last bottle of 1999 Dugat Griottes Chambertin off the list. Curiosity killed the wine lover. Dugat’s modern and oakier style is a bit controversial amongst the Burgundy intelligentsia, but this bottle delivered a positive experience. It was certainly beefy; concentration was king here, and there was a bit of an animalistic edge to this brute of a wine. ‘I am Tarzan,’ came to mind lol. Deep purple and black fruits seeped out, all served in a tangy vitamin wrap. The wine was rich and lush in the mouth but lacked the definition to support its ocean of fruit. Could its structure be latent? Yes, possibly, as many 1999s have so much fruit that their structures can be lost at this early age, but the finish seemed almost too soft despite its upfront complexities and unique style (93).

A few days later it was off to Long Island for a couple of bottles with another friend of the court, and we started off in familiar territory, with a 1996 Salon. If there is a better young Champagne in the world today, please let me know. I have written this bubbly up on numerous occasions, and it was lightning in a bottle again. Minerals and diamonds abounded as the Salon wrapped my palate in mink and then cut right thru it with its razor-sharp acidity and long, sexy finish (97).

The 1999 Rousseau Gevrey Chambertin Clos St. Jacques that followed was also extraordinary. Its fabulous nose was so good, possessing great aromatics. Sweet and pungent cherry red fruit, vitamins, musk, delicate cedar and perfume all came together in an overall meaty impression. The palate was rich and flavorful with tastes of spice, tea and sandbox. There was real depth here in this mouthful of a wine. While long and stylish, the Rousseau retained its elegance. Absolutely delicious (95).

The final night of this Fantastic Four saw me with another distinguished European gentleman, a Cabernet lover by confession, so we drank some Burgundy. A 1979 Dujac Clos de la Roche was a little woolly at first, needing some extra aeration to dry off its sweat and reveal a wonderful range of aromatics. Tobasco was first to jump out for me, along with old, pungent strawberry and dried leaves. There was also earth, leather and a pinch of Worcestershire along for the ride. The palate was mature, more purple in its profile, tasty with hints of saddle sweat and old book. It still zipped on its finish, and lots of citrus came out accordingly. It was another solid ’79 red, a vintage almost forgotten for Pinot (94).

We exercised some judgment with a half-bottle of 1989 Mugnier Musigny Vieilles Vignes as our second bottle. Mugnier only made a V.V. bottling two or three times, definitely in 1986 and 1989, I can’t remember if there was another. The ’86 has blown me away before, and I could have sworn the 1989 has also, but this half was a bit funky. It was milky and yeasty, pleasant yet simple, not what I had hoped for. It had a bit of a sour edge to it, and it didn’t pack the punch that ’89 can and should. It was still a pleasant wine, but I wanted more (88H).

Things heated up in the second half of October with a special Latour vertical, King Angry holding court, some auction debauchery and a lunch in Lake Como. Stay tuned – that flight to Hong Kong should have me catching up soon!

FIN

JK

VINTAGE TASTINGS - Kickoff Classic

The Tuesday after Labor Day saw the Fall season commence in fine fashion with an extraordinary BYO spectacular at Bouley. Many of New York’s brightest wine stars were in attendance, and by the end of the night, it seemed that more than a few were a little rusty from the summer solstice and not in as good drinking shape as usual lol.

The evening started fast and furiously, as the Hillbilly needed to get his drink on and started popping DP’s. The 1955 Dom Perignon was alive although maybe a hint mature, as in more mature than a perfect bottle would be. It was still excellent, still coming across with some freshness and a hint of cement around a classic core of sweet caramel and vanilla cream. The palate was rich and round with similar flavors of sweet caramel, vanilla and cement. Bad Boy Bruce hit the nail on the head when he said that this was a DP that ‘would benefit from food’ (94).

A 1973 Dom Perignon was delicious and classic with its granulated sugar, white fruit and mineral aromas and flavors. It was very fresh and racy, in a perfect spot. For some reason, a few of the ‘Dom-inators’ were a bit under-impressed by the ’73, but I thought it was outstanding (95).

Mr. Happy was already up and about, sharing some of his magnum of 1982 Billecart Salmon Blanc de Blancs. It was still tight with great and dominant vitamin aromas, quite fresh as well. It was excellent, long and stylish with yellow, tangy fruit flavors (94M).

Justin slid me a glass of 1983 Krug Clos du Mesnil, which was yeasty and bready, but leaner than most Krug Mesnils. It had a wafery dry quality, and despite good definition, it was lacking in its fruit (92).

JJ had a bottle of 1969 Dom Perignon Rose, the second bottle of this batch that I have had in the past three months, maybe four. It had a sweet, candied nose with great musk and earth aromas, and strawberry and rose stood out as well. Its flavors were very earthy with a hint of barn, and its bubbles were starting to mellow, but this still was an excellent DP despite its down and dirty personality (94).

The first wave of bubblies was over, and it was time to settle in with some whites. Doug E. (I guess we have to call him Fresh now) brought a 1993 Roumier Corton Charlemagne. It had a nice nose with real balance between its sweet, tender fruit and its chalk, dust and minerals. The wine sparkled in its nose, and while the palate was a bit light in the front and middle, it had nice yeast flavors to its finish. Smooth, easy and in the right spot, this was a sensual and impressive white from a producer known for his more than impressive reds (93).

The Don was in the house, and I actually got him to show up on time! The Inspector awarded me a badge of honor when he arrived to see The Don there before him lol. He had a few goodies with him, of course, the first of which was a magnum of 1986 Ramonet Bienvenues Batard Montrachet. The nose was waxy and pungent, very stony with aromas of fireplace, rainwater and minerals. Its flavors were toasty with exotic hints of guava and honeysuckle (94M).

The 1985 Louis Latour Montrachet was a pleasant surprise, with an inviting, warm and toasty nose. Despite Latour getting taken for granted by many collectors, this was a special wine, and it had great aromas of corn, cereal, oats and puffed rice. In the mouth, the wine was tasty, nice, round and easy with light grit (93).

Bruce slid over to my table with a gorgeous bottle of 1962 Dom Perignon. He was cooing over it, and rightfully so. He got it from one of our auctions :) . The bottle was just f’in delicious. Forgive my French, but it was French, after all. Grainy, toasty, rich and creamy, this was a classic. Hay and honey dripped out of the glass and coated the palate. This was an extraordinary bottle (96).

I finally got to take a taste of my wine, a magnum of 1981 DRC Montrachet, from Wolfgang Grunewald’s cellar. Awooooooooooooo! I was told that 1981 was actually a very well received white Burgundy vintage upon release, soon to get lost in the shuffle of 1982, 1983, 1985 and 1986. I was dying to try this wine, from a vintage that I don’t think I have ever sampled. The nose was incredibly exotic with super coffee aromas including the bean and the stalk, bordering on espresso liqueur. The palate was rich, tasty and delicious; this was another real surprise. Andy remarked that it was old Chard for sure, and I don’t think he is a fan of old Chard. There were definite cobwebs, but most were loving this mature DRC Monty (94M).

A 1982 Louis Latour Corton Charlemagne was a bit stinky and horsy with lots of animal and vegetable aromas. It was round in the mouth, but aggressive in its coffee and vegetable flavors (90).

There were two more white wines on this already extraordinary evening, a 1999 Coche-Dury Meursault Perrieres courtesy of Sweet Lou. Mr. Fresh hailed it as the best white of the night. It was extraordinarily clean and fresh, popping out of the glass as Coches tend to do. The nose was certainly amazing with aromas of wintry white fruits, minerals, sweet corn and kernel. The flavors were similarly delicious, but the palate didn’t quite pop for me like the nose, although I didn’t have much of it to play with (93+).

The last white was a 1992 Drouhin Montrachet Marquis de Laguiche. It was definitely ’92 in its personality, but a bit better in that Montrachet way. There was that round, waterfall quality, turning the corner like 1992s are. Tasty and pleasing, there was still solid, hidden acidity in this descending white (93).

After a brief debate, our table decided to do the red Bordeaux before the red Burgundies. I kicked things off with a half bottle of 1962 Latour a Pomerol. I think I picked this up at one of our auctions for less than $200, and it turned out to be one of the best buys I have ever made. The nose was classic Pomerol, with Versailles garden and hints of cocoa shaving to go with its reticent plum core. The palate was round, tender and soft, just beautiful and delicious out of half. Andy felt it was just hitting its plateau of maturity, and The Duke remarked wisely, ‘it’s tough to beat that’ (96H).

The next Bordeaux was a 1929 Latour courtesy of Jeff. It had a wow nose and impressed the heck out of everyone. Hints of hinderbush, I wrote. Yeah, that’s a new one lol. There were also great aromas of tobasco, musk, cassis and toll house. The palate was full of cedar, cobwebs and sweet cherry fruit. Duke hailed it as ‘wine of the night’ so far, and the Inspector called it ‘the best bottle of this that I have ever had.’ Wait a second, was that a compliment for a Bordeaux wine from the Inspector??? Sacre bleu! Chalk outlined the palate gracefully in this regal and still ruling claret (95).

King Angry must have heard the word ‘regal,’ as he interrupted the royal procession of the ’29 Latour with some 1964 Krug. The Duke gave it an official, ‘That’s gooooood.’ It was delicious with decadent vanilla and cream soda flavors. Pure and balanced, its long finish went on and on (95).

We were back to Bordeaux with a 1947 Clinet. It had a nice nose, also with that hint of fresh garden a la the ’62 L a P. There were also hints of olive. The palate was a bit soupy and dirty, but it was still long and really good (94).

Andy graced us with a 1959 La Mission Haut Brion, a bottle that was reconditioned in 2002. It was fresh accordingly, but still had mature nuances in its aromas and flavors as well. Gravel jumped out at first, along with pleasant t ‘n a. The palate was full of cassis and gravel. It was round, lush and delicious, about as good a mix of old and new that one could hope for in a reconditioned wine. The finish was round and grainy. It was a delicious reconditioned bottle, although I would still take an original bottling any day (95).

JJ had unwittingly brought a 1989 La Mission Haut Brion, not knowing this would be the third time that I had the wine this month. I mean, what nerve, sheesh :) . Its deep purple fruit jumped out amongst all the older wines. There was also cotton, earth, gravel and coconut in this unbridled and youthful claret. It was, too, delicious; this wine’s ocean of fruit always stuns me, although given its mature company, it came across a bit boyish on this night (95+).

It was time for another Champagne intermezzo, and the 1971 Dom Perignon was another great Dom. It had a perfect nose, similar to the bottle I had just had with the Hedonist Jay. It was all about the vanilla and granulated sugar in the nose. The palate was rich, lemony, zippy and great (96).

A couple of more Champagnes rapidly followed. The 1975 Dom Perignon was more yeasty and full-bodied, a bit rougher around the edges. It was chalky and grainy, but still excellent (93).

Peter snuck me over some 1999 Philipponat Clos des Goisses Rose, a very rare bird. The color was the lightest color I have ever seen in a Rose. It was vitamin city, more tender in its vibrant fruit than I would expect for something so young, but it still came across o so fresh (94).

Three Champagnes were just enough to cleanse the palate for a healthy procession of red Burgundy. The first was a 1978 Drouhin Vosne Romanee Beauxmonts. The nose was like citrus meets beef bouillon lite. Hints of forest complemented tangy flavors in this smooth and balanced Pinot. Traces of Worcestershire rounded out the flavors on its finish (93).

Justin, who ultimately won ‘most outstanding drunk’ for the evening, had another ace up his sleeve, a 1966 DRC Romanee Conti. He had forgotten about me as he was besieged with screaming fans once the RC started flowing, but thankfully the Inspector shared his glass with me. It was everything it should have been and then some, classic all the way. There was great spice, rose and menthol to this man amongst boys. The Inspector and I finally agreed on a score for a wine; I guess we need to share the same glass more often (96).

A 1966 Clair-Dau Chambertin Clos de Beze was up for the challenge of following the RC. It was a killer bottle, possessing superb lift in its long nose. A weed-like complexity complemented its citrus, red and watermelon trifecta, and a hint of game and pinch of bitters gave it just enough tension to make any drinker take notice. This was a great wine. I am not sure who to thank, because by this time The Don and two Dougs had become a three-headed hydra supplying great bottle after great bottle, so thanks y’all (95).

The 1949 Gouges Nuits St. Georges Les St. Georges Doug E. hailed as red wine of the night so far. What the Don hailed as ‘band-aids’ I found more to be like earthy, dirty shorts. The wine was very complex and all over the place, extremely nutty at first with lots of toasty kernel and citrusy fruit. The earth of NSG continued to dominate, and its flavors stayed dirty and earthy, with a bit of leather coming in (93).

I think between Ray, Bruce and Todd there must have been 47 vintages of Dom at their table, and it was time for the 1976 Dom Perignon. It was another beauty, all it should be and delicious. And at wine #28, the notes are starting to shorten (94).

But not before an incredibly grand finale. The Duke had been laying low with a stocked box chock full of hotness, and he finally took center stage on this star-studded night with a pair of 1971 Musignys. The first was a 1971 Vogue Musigny Vieilles Vignes. The nose was perfect at first sniff, with great fruit that was clean but gamy, rich yet sensual, red but hints of brown and purple, and meat that was both raw and grilled. Despite autumnal flavors and hints, the wine was still young and full of vitamins, rose and how now brown edges, brown like sugar and Worcestershire. The brown edges were a bit too brown for the brothers Doug, but I found the Vogue to be delicious and full of citrus smack, an all that and then some wine. ‘I need a whole bottle to figure this one out,’ The Duke playfully joked as he went for a refill. This was a wine where you wanted the whole bottle for yourself, for sure (96).

And the next one was even better. A glorious bottle of 1971 Roumier Musigny rained down on every other wine’s parade and quickly took my personal wine of the night crown. It got the universally accepted ‘so f’in good wowowowowow.’ Yes, it was about that time. The dust, the earth, the wind, the fire – this wine had all the elements of greatness. The citrus and rose balance was perfect, and the pitch and tension made me smack my lips. It had all the ’71 sex appeal with its great flesh and acidity. The Roumier wasn’t a wine, it was a meal (98).

There were a few more reds that I had some quick sips of, notably a 1958 B.V. Private Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon, a 1971 and 1975 Trotanoy. I couldn’t really get much out of any of these three wines at this point, but then one last wine stood out for me at the end of the night, a 1983 Guigal Cote Rotie La Mouline. Roasted, earthy, long, fine and sensual, the La Mouline was still full-bodied and really great. When I thought I was starting to lose my palate, it found it for me. It jumped out at the end of the night (95+).

The next night was the auction, and the momentum from this event carried over to the sale, which ended up being 100% sold. It looks like it’s gonna be a good season!

FIN

JK

VINTAGE TASTINGS - Dinner with Jay and Anne

As we turn the page to Fall, I wanted to sneak in a quick, special evening I recently had in late August. I know, Rob, I never got to the Krug vertical amongst a dozen other special summer soirees. Catching up seems to be something perpetual in my world.

Summer evenings in the Hamptons are always special, even if I am a Fire Island guy at heart. Recently, I spent a most memorable evening in the Hamptons, arriving from Fire Island in fact, welcomed into the home of Jay and Anne for a fantastic dinner where the number of wines ultimately outnumbered the number of guests. Good thing I only had to drive upstairs at the end of this night. I found out the hard way that there is a reason many call Jay ‘the Hedonist.’

There were some other noteworthy guests staying at their place for the weekend, but since they didn’t join us for dinner, they will have to live without infamy. I was joined by Alexander the Great, and one other couple joined us, dear friends of Jay, Roger Waters and his wife. Yes, that Roger Waters. Having met Roger on a couple of other brief occasions, I knew this was going to be a fun night. Roger always enjoys a good joke or three, and he won’t hesitate to make you pull his finger lol.

Roger was running late, and Jay and I started to become dizzy and confused without a bottle open between us. He quickly remedied that situation with a 1990 Dom Perignon. The 1990 DP had a toasty nose, just right in that regard. There was great balance with its granulated sugar sex appeal, and bread joined the aroma party with a rye twist. Alexander admired its ‘floral’ qualities, and Jay its ‘freshness.’ This was about as good a bottle of 1990 Dom that I have had, and there have certainly been lesser ones, a fact echoed by Jay. Hints of apple were on the palate, and it got cracker crispy in the glass. It s acidity was outstanding, and so was the bubbly (95).

Inspired by the 1990, Jay dug deep into the cellar early on, pulling out a pristine bottle of 1971 Dom Perignon from his cellar. The bottle lived up to its appearance, as it was practically perfect. Jay pegged, ‘apple cider and armagnac.’ I wrote, ‘so complex, what a wonderful nose.’ There were warm, mature notes in its aromas and flavors despite its youthful character, and I could see the consistency of the style of Dom Perignon travel back in time from the ’90 to the ’71, which was impressive. The apple, the bread and the crackers were joined by a dash of sea salt. Its flavors were meaty and full of vanilla oil, musk and citrus jam. Despite its creaminess and more secondary nature, it was still almost as fresh as the 1990! What a bottle (97).

We sat down to dinner and were greeted by a pair of whites, the first being a 2004 Domaine Leflaive Chevalier Montrachet. ‘Smells like Leflaive,’ Jay confirmed. Aromas of sweet musk and citrus jumped out of the glass like an adolescent in gymnastics class. It did a forward roll into hints of tangerine, cold butter and rainwater. The palate was fresh and round, long and satiny, giving off more butter than anything else. While sexy juice and possessing a bit of pubescent tension, it didn’t quite have the crispness I wanted out of it just yet. It still needs time to come into its own (94).

The next wine was truly extraordinary, sick as sick can be, love at first sip. The 1996 Lafon Montrachet was so good I think I heard trumpets canoning in the background as I raised the glass to my mouth after nearly inhaling it. It had that 1996 spark, its vibrant acidity screaming and whispering at the same time. This was a white wine on which buildings could be built. It was most fascinating to watch this wine develop in the glass, as it went through multiple personalities. After about fifteen or twenty minutes, it started to become brothy and tea-like, hinting at tutti-frutti, and I was afraid that perhaps the wine was suffering from a little premature oxidation. A refill kicked the wine back into kill mode, and it regained its taut, smacking personality, full of unsweetened lemon ice flavors. Rich, thick, slaty, long and dry, the Montrachet had a lot going on despite a bit of a Jekyll and Hyde conflicted personality. It definitely found itself, and its long, lip-smacking finish made everyone warm and fuzzy (96+).

A pair of Vogue Musignys were next, beginning with a 1991 Vogue Musigny Vieilles Vignes. Roger noted a ‘strong hint of urine.’ He then looked down at the ground and said, ‘Oh, shit!’ Just kidding :). There was also a core of very sweet raspberry fruit along with forest aromas. Jay noted ‘a litte VA.’ Its sappy core had hints of mint, and its gamy palate hinted at fig and leather. Jay admired its evolution in the glass, citing ‘a little barnyard, a lot of forest, but the funk blew off and it is now elegant in a Burgundy way.’ The acid was still sturdy, and this 1991 was still solid, getting a little coconutty in the end (94).

Roger was warming up, and he found the 1998 Vogue Musigny Vieilles Vignes ‘faintly Cuban.’ Jay added ‘a hint of Montecristo.’ The boys were jamming. I couldn’t pin the exact cigar but did get the cigar thing in this taut and leathery nose. There was definite tension here, and a hint of rubber tire that wanted to burn. Roger honed in on the leather, finding it more like ‘sweaty bridles.’ There were much more vitamins present in the 1998. The Vogue also had this back of a ruler thing going on, and hints of earth and cereal were present in this sturdy, long and thick red. It was an impressive 1998, a vintage that is still taut and developing, and one that might provide a lot more long-term pleasure than many think (94+).

Roger is a true claret lover, British to the core, but these Burgundies definitely made their mark on him, and he appreciated them to the last drop. Nonetheless, he was beginning to playfully grumble about having some real wine, so the boys all went down to the cellar to dig around and find him some claret before he trashed Jay’s dressing room. Jay pulled out an ’82 Haut Brion and a 1989 La Mission, and we tried to make a decision. When Roger told us while he has had the 1961 La Mission about two dozen times but has never had an ’89, the decision made itself.

The 1989 La Mission Haut Brion was a whole new world. Alexander the Great purred, ‘now this is leather.’ Its deep, dark fruit had lots of slate and gravel supporting it, and that classic toasted kernel of this particular wine was alive and popping. A pinch of salt was there, but the rocks and fruit dominated the nose. The palate was so rich and concentrated, and coffee flavors emerged after a little cheese. It was almost too much wine, the wine itself that is. Satin took over its palate after time in the glass, and its finish stayed long and special. Jay quipped to Roger, ‘we are making you look right.’ To be fair, it was a handicap match, as the ’89 La Miss is an all-time great Bordeaux, although a separate, recent head-to-head matchup with an ’89 Haut Brion after being uncorked two days prior had the La Miss a noticeable second (97).

We closed with a couple more Champagnes, beginning with the 1990 Dom Perignon Rose. To be honest, this is a Champagne that shouldn’t be touched for another decade. It was bone dry, long and with excellent acidity but everything about it was about the dryness, even its red fruits. Strawberry tried to creep in, but it was so dry. Alexander found it ‘talc-y’ (95+).

The 1990 Krug was the closer, and I think we were all just about closed for the evening, anyway. The Krug had the classic toast, bread, musk and vanilla cream in the nose. It was furry in a mink kind of way, and the vanilla morphed into a liqueur-like ecstasy. Flavors of butterscotch and white chocolate abounded in this long and still so young bubbly. There is Champagne, and then there is Krug (96).

And then there is hangover.

FIN

JK

VINTAGE TASTINGS - Hong Kong Diaries, September 2009

I love Hong Kong. The city, the people, the energy, and the passion for wine are a combination rarely seen in the world today. My ten days in HK saw a lot of great wines and generosity on display, and the festivities commenced on Monday night, which was technically a ‘category 8’ Typhoon night, with 12 being the highest and most dangerous category. The wind was certainly whipping, but the rain mercifully stayed away until late in the night, really coming down heavily the next morning. Eight was enough to close schools and many businesses the next day, although by the afternoon, the typhoon had passed through, and it was business back to normal.

About eight of us got together on Monday night thanks to the efforts of Lawrence, and Paul was able to secure us a table at Café Gray, which is not officially open but doing a few, special pre-opening meals for some of Hong Kong’s finer diners. Gray himself was there, getting ready for what will technically be the opening in a couple more weeks.

Some 1995 Dom Perignon Oenotheque kicked off the evening in fine fashion. The ’95 had that classic Oeno style – clean, pungent and grassy with hints of hay, citrus and melon. The palate was full and fresh, quite long, yet the acidity didn’t overpower the wine like many young Champagnes. It still sparkled in the glass and had nice zip, rounding out and becoming more fleshy with time (94).

A 1976 DRC La Tache set the stage for what would be a mainly Bordeaux night, and it had a great nose. 1976s can be instant charmers but not be last-longers, so to speak, and I predicted this would be great for about 30+ minutes before disappearing into the air. I guess one could say that ’76 Burgs are great first kissers lol. There was sweet musk and black cherry fruit along with nice stalk, forest and a pinch of menthol in the nose. The palate was full of autumnal fruit flavors, round and balanced, with traces of earth, tea and dust on its finish (93).

Desmond noted ‘chocolate’ right away in a 1959 L’Evangile, and Gary found it ‘quite powerful.’ Loewe concurred, calling 1959 ‘more tannic than ’61,’ in general. It was, indeed, quite chocolaty with a hint of garden goodness, along with some faint aromas of cement and pungent interior. The palate was big and a bit of a bruiser with lots of alcohol showing. Its cassis and plum fruit were walking on slate stilts, and a hint of metal/iron ore was there as well. The L’Evangile’s sexy nose was old but fresh, and its acidity was really long in the belly, but there was some squareness in its shoulders. 1959 was never quite the vintage in Pomerol that it was for the rest of Bordeaux, although clearly still way above average (93).

Unfortunately, a Jean Nony Negociant bottling of 1947 Cheval Blanc was corked (DQ).

Paul had brought a pet wine of his, the 1958 Haut Brion, a vintage not often seen. This bottle was from the Mahler-Besse cellars, and the nose was certainly classic HB. There was that instant whiff of gravel, although oak started to creep in, in eyebrow raising fashion. The tannins and acidity were still firm in the penetrating nose, but its palate also had that oaky edge. The initial attack in the mouth was nice, but its mid-palate and finish were soft. Its flavors were more oak than anything else, although its oak morphed into cedar a bit. I was wondering if the wine was reconditioned at all, but there was no indication that it was (88).

Hello, 1955 La Mission Haut Brion. The first words to be written were ‘wow.’ There was a deep core of cassis and chocolate here, escorted by massive t ‘n a, cedar, mahogany and more classic wood without the oak. The palate was rich, sensual and vibrant, with secondary dust and desert qualities. There were nice, old citrus kisses to its caroby core, and it got more chocolaty in the mouth over time. While it competed with the last wine we would have on this night for ‘WOTN,’ it ultimately fell a step behind as we headed down the stretch towards the finish line (95).

A 1959 Lafite Rothschild was reconditioned in 1998, perhaps a bit too much so. It was sweet and gamy with lots of t ‘n a in the nose, but it came across younger more than older; it didn’t find the right balance that a great reconditioned wine should have. The palate was sweet and chocolaty, flirting with figgy, nicely dense and with flavors of leather, spice and cassis. Lawrence admired its ‘excellent finish,’ and while the wine was tasty, it was a bit hot and lacked the depth that I wanted and expect from this wine. It was still very good, but it should have been outstanding (92).

A 1953 Lafite Rothschild closed the evening in fine fashion. This, being an original bottle, was everything I expected and wanted. At first, it was a bit stinky, and it needed time to blow off some of its initial hay and wet grass. Thick, seepy fruit emerged with some swirling and aeration. The wine was rich and tasty, richer than I expected, and its hay blew into coffee and earth with a pinch of citrus. There was great ‘smack’ to this leathery wine and excellent pop to its finish. Carob, cobwebs and dust were all there as well. The wine was delicious, still vigorous but definitely mature. It remains one of the all-time classic Lafites (96+).

I actually had to go back to work after dinner and ended up spending another four hours trying to deal with deadline issues for our next set of Fall auctions. I wasn’t jet-lagged at all during my trip to Hong Kong, just work-lagged! The next two days were basically devoted to October and November, so I was especially ready come Thursday night to enjoy some more great wine, and we had assembled about fifty eager collectors for a BYO spectacular at the Island Shangri La. It was a quite social affair, and I only managed a dozen, brief notes, but they were good ones :).

We started off with a magnum of 1992 Sauzet Montrachet, which was as great as 1992 can be. The wine was rich and yeasty, only showing a touch of that fast-forwarding 1992 style. Its acidity was still solid, and this was a mouthful of a white, no doubt helped by the magnum format. Sauzet is one of the elite producers of white Burgs, and probably the least appreciated of the elite. His style has a power unmatched by any other producer in Burgundy (95M).

A magnum of 2002 Chave Hermitage Blanc stood up nicely to the Sauzet, even though it was from a vintage not held in high regard. If real estate is all about location, location, location then wine is all about producer, producer, producer. A great producer will make quality wines every year no matter what the conditions, and this Chave proved it. The Chave had lots of gamy fruit and glue in its nose. The palate was long and had great spine with lots of honey and wax flavors. Thanks, Dave (93M).

There was a James Suckling sighting, and along with him came a 2001 Massetto. Talk about a great package deal. James is always great company at a tasting and an encyclopedia of wine knowledge, and he was really the first major Western wine critic to experience the Hong Kong market. No one from the West knows Hong Kong and its major collectors more than James. The Massetto was super-concentrated and deep purple personified. The words ‘rich’ and ‘thick’ kept appearing over and over again in my notes, along with ‘super.’ James added, ‘layered and powerful…black olives and mint.’ This was an awesomely endowed wine, full of decadent flavors of coffee and blueberry. It was still very young but incredibly sexxxy juice (97).

If there were a Bordeaux that could stand up to the Massetto, a good choice would be the 1989 Haut Brion. It was another ‘wow’ wine; it is always special, indubitably one of the top ten wines made in Bordeaux over the last forty years. Long, elegant yet meaty, it zipped along faster than the speed limit but still seemed like it was moving slowly. It was so sensual, seductive from the first sniff to the last sip, full of carob, caramel, cedar and enough spice for Julia Child’s kitchen cabinet. This is an any place, any time wine. Thank you my friend (99).

The 1982 Haut Brion that followed had many similar characteristics, but there was much more peanut butter here in a peanut brittle way. This had a tender side to it that the ’89 wasn’t ready to show. It was more forward than the seven years between the two, gamier and readier, although still with a long life ahead of it. The ’82 HB seems to be under-appreciated in the market and is certainly the best value of all the First Growths (95).

A magnum of 1966 Haut Brion was all about the coffee in the nose. Its palate was smooth and satiny, soft and tender, fully mature and ready to go. While not in the category of the greatest Haut Brions, it is still very good, though probably best to drink up (91M).

Thomas blessed us with a rare 1969 Beaucastel Chateauneuf du Pape. As I have recently iterated, I love old Beaucastels. They are amongst my favorite, old wines and an incredible value relative to similarly old, great Bordeaux and Burgundy. This ’69 was no exception. It was full and regal in the nose, emitting black fruits, wet stones and pinches of game, tar and pepper. It was long in the mouth, tasty and tender despite a full finish marked by earth and cement flavors. It was another awesome, old Beaucastel (94).

A 1995 Roumier Chambolle Musigny Les Cras was pungent and gamy, long and full of iodine and dry leather flavors. While 1995 is a controversial vintage in Burgundy, there is no doubt that Roumier hit the bullseye this year and made the wines of the vintage, and this Chambolle proved why (93).

It was back to Bordeaux with an excellent magnum of 1964 Latour. Its nose reminded me of rich, Christmas pudding. It was long, tasty and sensual, in a good spot out of magnum, displaying classic flavors of black fruit, carob, walnut and pencil (93M).

A bottle of 1983 Margaux was in perfect condition, chalky and minerally, fuller-bodied and more stony than any other bottle of this that I have ever had. Its acidity was noticeable and noticeably good, and its spine and length suggested younger rather than older. Its black fruits were almost entrapped by its minerality; this will be a fascinating wine to follow for the next 25 years (95).

There was one more Bordeaux on this starry night, a 1990 Cheval Blanc, whose nose was full of meaty, wintry red fruits and hints of gingerbread. There is always this hint of game and wild grass to the ’90 Cheval, and I say that in a positive way. The palate was classic all the way around, rich and red, tasty yet still somewhat shy and reserved. This was a meaty, long and regal wine that will be enjoyable for decades to come (96).

I didn’t have much left in me by the time a magnum of 1989 Giacosa Barolo Falleto Riserva came around. Its leather and acidity really stood out at this point, along with its black as night fruit. This was a mouthful of a wine, practically taking my tongue hostage with its sheer strength. Long and zippy, the Giacosa spoke up for Italy admirably on this great night (95+M).

After a good night’s sleep, it was the day before the auction and time for our pre-auction tasting. There were many fantastic wines being poured. I only had time to taste about a dozen of the 35-40 wines being poured, but the standouts for me included 1971 Moet Rose (94), 2004 Marcassin Pinot Noir Three Sisters (94), 2003 Dujac Clos de la Roche (95+), 2001 Lafleur (96) and 1985 Rayas (96). The Moet Rose was delicious, still fresh yet showing some mature and open red fruit flavors, still vibrant with its effervescence and citrusy goodness. The Marcassin was remarkably good. It was rich, saucy and full, a mouthful and then some of beefy, California Pinot that retained the grape’s natural sex appeal. I was impressed, and equally so by the 2003 Dujac. I must confess that I have not had too many 2003 Burgundy recently as I don’t drink that much ‘serious’ young wine, and I have also perhaps been a bit brainwashed by a few Burgundy connoisseurs that this is not a pure or classic vintage in Burgundy due to the excessive, record-breaking heat of 2003. Well, this Dujac lit my mouth up. It was rich and concentrated and still full of acidity and length, making my lips smack and my tongue lick the roof of my mouth. It had sweet fruit, but not what I would call overripe, as the knock can be on ’03. It left me with a yearning to try a bunch more ’03 Burgs in the near future. 2001 Lafleur is a classic Lafleur, and 2001 is a great vintage for Pomerol. I will never forget when one of the Moueixs told me, ‘It will be interesting to compare the 2001 and 2000 over the next ten years,’ and that ultimately one day the 2001 might be held in higher regard. ‘Nuff said. The 1985 Rayas showed the glory of great Chateauneuf du Pape. I don’t know about all these new producers that have achieved huge ratings. When it comes to Chateauneuf, I keep it simple – Rayas, Beaucastel, Bonneau, Pegau, Brunel…I might be missing a couple of others, but you get the idea. The classic producers that have been making wine for decades are the ones I tend to prefer, and the same goes for the rest of the world, too. Experience matters. The ’85 was open and rich, tasty and gamy, jammy with its kinky strawberry fruit, supported by hot stones, leather, garrigue and spice. It was the real standout of the whole tasting for me, even more so than the Lafleur despite their same score, since the Rayas was much more open due to the sixteen year age difference.

I ran off to a quick dinner, where I had a flashback of our last auction in Hong Kong as 1989 and 1990 Petrus were already being served. I was given the pair blindly and able to identify which one was which. Phew :). I guess it helped having the same pair three months ago! My conclusion of the two was also the same, although this bottle, make that bottles, of the 1990 were better than the one I had in May. 1989 is the greatest of the greats, though.

The 1990 Petrus had a gamy nose, a touch figgy and caroby but still possessing a core of hardcore Pomerol fruit. It was also waxy and had more noticeable alcohol than the last bottle in May and a little more strength. Gil found it ‘a bit rusty’ and its alcohol a hair ‘disjointed.’ The wine was tight, better than the last bottle I had, but it continued to improve in the glass and with each refill. It is nice when you have two bottles of this wine to go around and around! The finish kept expanding, and the wine kept fleshing out. It was easy to keep drinking it, for sure (96+).

The 1989 Petrus was deeper and more chocolaty in its nose, pure class in a glass. In the mouth, it was regal, long and full of vim. Flavors of chocolate, plum and forest danced together like Baryshnikov and an ensemble of thousands. Length, harmony and strength - that is the 1989 Petrus. It will age forever (99).

The 1992 Screaming Eagle was a fascinating follow up to the pair of Petruses. It actually had a little Petrus character to it. Hints of game and fig jumped out at first, followed by black cherry fruit, coffee and a touch of olive. It was full of exotic spices. The palate had great game and spice flavors, and more coffee. That kiss of Cali sweetness was not over the top and rather refined here, and its tangy cassis and grainy cedar qualities were joined by exotic blueberry. Gil found it more ‘huckleberry, exotic raspberry coulis and a peach schnapps finish.’ It was long and delicious and could hang in the same flight as the Petrus, although the Petruses kept getting better while the Screamer stood pat, and if anything started to soften (95).

A glass of 1995 Krug Clos d’Ambonnay helped us say goodbye on a high note, although I still find this first vintage to be excellent and not yet outstanding. There was lots of lemony goodness and elegance in this young, taut Champagne. There was a flash of fruit, and while its flavors were great and its finish long, it still needs lots of time to come into its own (94+).

Once again, thank you very much to my friend, who also brought the 1989 Haut Brion the night prior. It was an incredible evening and a pleasure to meet some of your friends as well.

The auction was on Saturday, and it was a tremendous sale, but you all know about that already. I always like to enjoy a drink or six at an auction, so I brought with me a glorious magnum of 1989 Chateau de Beaucastel Chateauneuf du Pape Hommage a Jacques Perrin. I haven’t had this wine in a while, and it has always left the impression on me as one of the greatest Rhone wines ever, always exceeding the equally-regarded 1990. While this wine has always been massive, and it was still big, there was a decadent core of fruit showing in this magnum that was delicious and open. There were black and purple fruits, spice, pepper, earth and that Rhone gamy quality all combining for a fantastic experience. Chunky and long, this was again special stuff and starting to shed some of its thick skin (97M).

The Monday after brought another festive gathering, kicked off by a spectacular bottle of 1996 Salon. This bottle was just perfect, like drinking diamonds. It just sparkled from first sip to last. Minerals, white fruits and extraordinary acidity produced lightning in a bottle. It was so fresh, so long and so balanced. Its tangy, pungent fruit was like a sun rising with its yellow flavors, and this Champagne just dropped me to my knees (97).

Surprisingly, some liked the 1996 Dom Perignon Rose better. The nose was all alcohol and acidity at first, but rusty red fruit tried to fight through along with a pinch of grass and almost melon. This is a wine that needs time; it was rusty and clean but very lean, tight and unyielding. It came across with more brute strength than the Salon, and it did open up in about an hour showing hints of exotic fruits, ginger, lime rickey and citrus peel. Its last sip reminded me of strawberry lime soda (93+).

Paul noted ‘lychee’ in a 1972 DRC Richebourg. Additional aromas of earth, bacon, tomato and ‘mint’ were present, along with some nice t ‘n a. There was also this touch of grilled endive meets marshmallow (accompanied by a ‘yes!’ in my notes; I was excited to pinpoint such an unusual combination lol). Light toast and a hint of animal rounded out its nose. The palate was very citrusy and leathery, lean and dry. Paul keenly observed, ‘it will turn sour in an hour,’ but he gave it too much time as I started to see that in fifteen minutes. The wine kept heading south for the winter despite its initial complex aromatics (88).

A 1989 Guigal Cote Rotie La Turque burned rubber in the nose fast and furiously. There was lots of classic, mountainous Rhone fruit with tons of minerals and quartz. The palate was very peppery and also with bacon, earth and garrigue flavors. Victor found its bacon qualities more ‘smoked meat.’ The wine was a bit dry, its only flaw (94).

A 1999 Ponsot Close de la Roche V.V. had chunky, thick fruit in that 1999 way. Vitamins jumped out of the nose, with hints of medicine dropper, baby style. It was very wild with lots of kinky raspberry fruit. The palate was rich and concentrated, again with a hint of medicine, along with some iron. The wine was fleshy, kinky, sweet and unusual Burgundy. I saw the style of 1999 in the wine, but overall it was atypical (92).

A 2004 Leroy Gevrey Chambertin had a rich, saucy nose. I was told that Leroy didn’t bottle any grand or premier crus in 2004, so all the wines went into an ‘AC’ Gevrey and Vosne, depending on the vineyard, of course. The nose was exotic and concentrated with seepy, thick raspberry and blackberry fruit. The palate, however, was softer, easy and smooth, nice and pleasant, but simpler than I wanted. There was a touch of New World beef, along with menthol and spice (91).

The biggest surprise on the night was a 1998 J.J. Confuron Romanee St. Vivant. Leather and cedar were the first things I noticed, with reticent black fruits behind. It had what I call nice ‘whiff’ to it with its hints of allspice and all-fruit, for that matter. I really liked its taut style, and the palate was singing, impressing me with its leathery, taut 1998 side, and this was already open for two hours! It was still tense, with hints of hilltop garden, and it possessed classic qualities despite Confuron being a producer that is sometimes considered to be on the New World side of the wheel. I think I will be drinking more 1998s in the coming year; I think it is time to revisit this underrated vintage (93).

We finished up with a classic 1983 Yquem, sweet and delicious with lots of candle wax and honey. It was very stony in its aromatics, still sweet and decadent as only Yquem can be, with outstanding acidity (95).

There was one more night, and it proved to be a definite nail in the coffin, as I didn’t drink for three days afterwards as a result. It was all Jerome’s fault, but I’ll get to that later. We had a fun group assembled, including another James Suckling sighting.

The evening started off innocently enough with a magnum of 1990 Dom Perignon, which was very fresh out of magnum, much younger than out of bottle, as it should be. It was clean with great acidity, as well as mineral, spice, cement and straw aromas. With excellent definition and length in the mouth, it got even breadier over time, like toast soaked in oil. Yum (95+M).

Thomas, one of Hong Kong’s most knowledgeable wine lovers, brought with him a few goodies, the first of which was a 2003 Trimbach Riesling Clos Ste. Hune, one of my favorite white wines, period. The nose was great, full of lychee, honey, petrol and waterfall. The palate was also delicious, balanced between its sweet fruit and petrol qualities. It was smooth and floral with nice richness, beautiful fruit and a soft, tender finish. Happy happy (93).

A pair of Margaux Blancs was next, beginning with the 2000 Pavillon Blanc du Margaux. The nose was yeasty with complex straw and gold aromas, along with honeydew and honey drip. The palate had glue flavors, along with waterfall and sunchoke ones. It was tender and definitely at its peak, pleasing at first, but the more I tasted it, the more it went downhill (88).

The 2005 Pavillon Blanc du Margaux was similar in style but sweeter. It had the glue, the hay, the yeast. It was ‘a point or two more’ per James, who was in the 87/88 point zone for both these wines. I preferred the 2005 significantly more than the 2000, and found it richer and fresher. Maybe this is a wine best within its first five years. Peter admired its ‘vanilla’ qualities (91).

It was on to the reds and another Thomas treat, a 1986 Ponsot Latricieres Chambertin, which Thomas quickly asserted was ‘better than the 1985’ he had the night prior. High praise indeed! The nose was super sexy, so seductive and gorgeous, sweet and musky. There was a lot going on: iron, black cherry, raspberry, tangy vitamins, garden and citrus borders all framed by impressive vigor and t ‘n a. The palate was ‘wow’ with its strong acidity and huge personality; this was about as impressive a 1986 as I can remember, save a 1986 Roumier Musigny. The finish was massive; before that there was a surplus of citrus, leather and cement smack flavors. It popped in the mouth, and I could not stop drinking it. Gil loved its ‘bang for the buck,’ and someone called it ‘the cat’s meow.’ Tasty, dry like the vintage, and with hints of cedar and menthol, this was an impressive wine, and James was loving it too, although he graded it a point less than me as he felt it would not get any better than it is right now (95).

Thomas pulled another cat out of his bag with a 2000 Anne Gros Richebourg. This was another impressive Burg from a year that is not that highly-regarded for its reds. It was another testament to the most important wine lesson I can ever give, which I will say again here: producer, producer, producer. The 2000 was quite rich in the nose, another ‘wow’ wine, very concentrated and beefy with tantalizing black raspberry fruit. It gave an oily impression, and aromas of vitamins, forest and cedar rounded out its nose. The wine was rich and tasty in the mouth with strawberry flavors and a kiss of lemon drop. I think it was James who said that it was ‘more modern but there is still precision and upside here.’ This time he was a point higher than me, but it felt like we were in sync. I get to be Justin lol (94).

A 2001 Comte de Vogue Musigny V.V. was next. There was a hint of milk in its tight nose, and it was also beefy and had more penetrating t ‘n a. Thomas was huffing how it was ‘not true Pinot.’ It had a nice shield around it of glass and citrus. The palate was a bit shut down. It was beefy, earthy and leathery with excellent acidity, but it clearly needed more time than the previous two wines (93+).

There was one more Burgundy on our agenda, a 2003 Rouget Vosne Romanee Cros Parantoux. The Rouget had a deep, saucy, concentrated nose, again this grilled endive thing around a core of plum, cassis, soda and liqueur. It was a thick wine, and the second tasty 2003 Burg that I had had on this trip. It was really good, hedonistic and rich, long and concentrated, sweet and hearty, if anything a touch too sweet, but hey, that’s 2003 (93).

I was surprised to see there was only one Bordeaux in the lineup; it was an outstanding 1990 Leoville Las Cases. It had a great nose, classic Bordeaux all the way with its cedar, minerals, pencils and cassis underneath. The palate was still so, so young, long, cedary and zippy. James found it ‘velvety,’ and I found lots of interior qualities in that Better Homes and Gardens kind of way (96).

We skipped, or make that sipped, through Spain with a NV Vega Sicilia Reserva Especial. They make this wine every few years as a blend from three different vintages, so one has to track the inconspicuous lot numbers on the label to know which one is what, which is kind of annoying; this was a blend of 1985, 1991 and 1996, or so I was told. This had that Vega egg to its nose, as well as a sweet, leathery kink and good wood. James noted ‘jammy and rich, chocolate, tobacco and rose leaf.’ The wine was gamy, smooth, soft, tender, easy and tasty, but it didn’t quite have the complexity of a typical Unico (92).

A 2001 Quicleda Creek Cabernet Sauvignon was like ‘Idaho jam,’ James joked. It was definitely deep and inky, chocolaty and cassisy, sporting a New World woody. It was soft and smooth, relatively unexciting. Perhaps I was generous giving it 90 points, as James walloped it with an 88 (90).

A couple of Rhones closed out the red wine portion of our program, beginning with a 1989 Jaboulet Hermitage La Chapelle. Peter found it ‘plastic-y,’ but then said he finds Rhones that way in general. The nose was fabulous, full of sweet, black fruits, garrigue, spice, pepper, game, chocolate, minerals and bread aromas. The palate was rich and hearty, more limited and square than its nose, although there was nice citrus and leather smack to its gamy finish (94+).

We also got to try a 2003 Pegau Chateauneuf Cuvee du Capo, which Peter thought had ’20, 30 years to go.’ The nose was full of sweet and sexy Grenache fruit, so strawberry and so sweet. It was gamy in a confiture way, and super delicious. There was great balance to its fruit and long finish despite its overall sweet personality. This was a wine that was gettin’ figgy with it (95+).

Actually, I forgot, we had a 2005 Two Hands Shiraz Ares, which elicited lots of boos and hisses. This was hailed as a nightclub wine, and ice cubes were requested. I guess it could have been better with some girls around :) (88).

There was also a 1990 Yquem, which someone called ‘better than 1967.’ Honey, coconut, pineapple and candle wax complemented its rich structure and super sexy, nutty, lush finish. It is a great Yquem, but I’ll drink ’67 over it any time, at least for a while (96+).

When asked for my thoughts regarding the best wine, I said that I wanted another bottle of the Ponsot for right now even though the Las Cases was my highest-rated wine, and the Pegau won the freak at the end of the night award lol. It was about that time, and the guys made me do some Chinese traditions after dinner, including Jerome force feeding me shots of various liquids. Unfortunately, they forgot to give me the traditional herbs to overcome a massive hangover, a hangover to the point where I couldn’t remember getting back to the hotel or even think about alcohol for the next three days, messing up my routine :).

It was a great night of great wine, a fitting closing chapter to another great week of wine in Hong Kong. I can’t wait to be back in November.

FIN

JK

VINTAGE TASTINGS - Back to Back

Recently I spent back-to-back nights in two different cellars in two different states. The first night was at The Don’s, the unofficial church of Burgundy here in America. A delicious lineup of five different wines had me thanking the wine Gods accordingly.

We started with a delicious 1990 Dauvissat Chablis La Forest. This wine really knocked me out and cemented the fact that 1990 may be the greatest Chablis vintage of my lifetime. (Yes, I know, 1996 could be as well). The nose was so warm and mature, yeasty in the best way possible, giving way to earth, smoke, baked yellow fruits and hay. The palate was rich and saucy, meaty and chewy, full of mild citrus and terroir flavors. While at its peak, the La Forest was pure hedonism and had me forgetting about the trees (94).

We paired it with a 1989 Raveneau Butteaux. The Raveneau was much more anisy and spiny, showing more citrus and minerals. It was more wound up, pungent in a good way, clean and long. It had more smack and was more youthful than the La Forest, but it didn’t quite deliver the same pleasure quota, although in five years it may be the better wine (93+).

A 2003 Haut Brion Blanc was a welcome introduction to dinner. The nose was sweet and giving, rare for a young HBB. The appeal of the 2003 vintage made itself known immediately, as sweet aromas of Sauvignon and Semillon fruit combined with the usual suspects of glue, hay and smoke. Almost tropical, the HBB was so delicious, sweet and balanced, elegant yet full-bodied. It didn’t feel like it was on a fast evolutionary track, but rather one of those wines that will always be enjoyable from the word go (95).

A pair of 1999 Leroys rounded out our evening. It has been a while since I have had any Leroy ‘99s, and I love ‘99s, so this was perfect as far as I was concerned. The first was the 1999 Leroy Vosne Romanee Beauxmonts. It had the signature, beefy Leroy style, dripping with black and red fruits, earth, and a long, defined finish. The Vosne maintained its inherent, elegant nature and gave off a silky impression (93).

As impressive as the Vosne initially was, the 1999 Leroy Corton Renardes just bullied over its sibling. It made the Vosne seem lighter and less of a wine, to be frank. The power of the Corton was searing. Its acidity and tannins stomped all over the Beauxmonts, and it kept a rich, powerful core of dense fruit to match its everlasting finish. This was impressive stuff (96).

On the next night, I found myself down South with a longstanding collector of forty years. While half of his cellar had been sold off due to divorce many years ago, and thousands of bottles had been consumed over the years, there was still a lot of great juice left, much of which you will hopefully be seeing soon at auction. We sampled a bunch of wines from the cellar, more eclectic and value selections since we wanted to save the best stuff for the auction. The result was a great testament to the ageability of quality wines in general, and how taken for granted many older wines have become. This evening proved that a wine doesn’t have to be a First Growth or DRC or from only the greatest of vintages to age gracefully and provide much pleasure.

We started with a wine that was never commercially available, a 1979 C.I.B. Corton Bressandes. The CIB is an organization in Burgundy that makes selections and wines every year for seminars that it conducts about Burgundy. My friend happened to help organize a series of their events here in America many years ago, and he was allowed to keep the leftovers as long as he promised not to sell them. He kept his promise, and was I ever glad for it. This wine was stunning, hauntingly delicious, showing mature nuances of game, black raspberry, earth and truffle. It was in a perfect spot and a wine that I could just keep drinking endlessly for hours. It was flat-out delicious. It, coupled with the extraordinary Ponsot that I had sampled recently, made me want to find more 1979 reds! This was a generic Corton Bressandes, mind you. It was what Burgundy was all about – gamy, sweet fruit, supple body and fleshy yet firm texture. This was 99 points on the enjoyment scale; it was that good. I couldn’t stop drinking it, and if it ever did come up for auction, it would probably be less than $50 (95).

We turned to California next with an off-the-trodden selection from one of his favorite winemakers and former friends, Joe Heitz. The 1977 Heitz Cabernet Sauvignon Fay Vineyard was another excellent wine. It was taut and mineral driven in that Heitz style, flirting with anise and chock full of earth, coffee, slate and hints of chocolate. Long and fine with good grit, this was still holding up well after all these years, from a vintage to which no one pays any mind anymore. It just goes to show that great producers make great, or at least really good, wines every year. This is another wine that if it ever came up for sale, it would probably only get $40 or $50, if that. Now that would be money well spent (93).

We went to dinner, and I grabbed a 1978 Heitz Pinot Chardonnay, because curiosity killed the critic. The kick was up, it’ssss goooooood! It was still rich and yeasty, smoky and woody, a solid wine that was clearly mature but still enjoyable. Mature flavors of cobwebs and campfire rounded out this piece of history, and although some alley crept in, it didn’t cross the line. Remind me why they don’t make wine in California like they used to again (90)?

I picked another curiosity, a 1968 Chateau Ste. Michelle White Oak Cabernet Sauvignon. Well, you can’t win ‘em all. The nose wasn’t bad, giving off cedar, cassis and lots of slate, but the palate was a bit sour and thin. It was still fun to try, and drinkable for a 40-year old Washington wine (83).

Since there was a lot of Bordeaux in the cellar, I insisted on one claret, and we had a half-bottle of 1970 Latour. Out of half, the Latour was a bit more mature than your average bottle but still excellent. It was gritty and sandpapery, framed by chunky black fruits and hints of coffee. It went down easy and remains a solid Latour, although not as great as many initially felt it was (93).

This gentleman has a great German collection, so we finished with a 1976 Albert Kallfelz Riesling Beerenauslese Merler Stephansberg, a producer whose family has been making wine since 1450. Now that’s a family tradition! The BA was very good, showing mature aromas and flavors of yeast, peach, basement, lychee, rainwater and minerals. It was a great way to end this evening, one that reminded me how great wine is, especially when you find great ones that aren’t the so-called great ones (92).

The bill for dinner was quite reasonable, especially the $2 corkage fee per bottle. You gotta love the South…

FIN

JK

VINTAGE TASTINGS - Bad Boy 2

It was one month later, so wine’s original Bad Boy Bruce decided to have another get together at his home in New Jersey. It was a smaller get-together than his previous party, but still on hand from last month’s birthday bash were King Angry, the Hillbilly and Alexander the Great. I don’t think the Hillbilly ever left, actually. Bad Boy’s musical world touched us on this night, as we were also joined by Maynard Keenan, lead singer of Tool, a passionate wine lover and maker of fine wine as well. I had dined with him before a couple of years ago, and we had enjoyed an incredible wine dinner at Cru, but I somehow lost those notes and was never able to share that night. He was in town for a concert, and his presence was just enough to spark a fantastic evening centered around 1979 Champagnes, Soldera and Monfortino. The King and the Hillbilly, in a twist of half-inspiration and half-destiny, answered the musical bell and assumed the role they were born to play: the wine world’s version of Tupac and Biggie lol.

We started with a magnum of 1979 Louis Roederer. While good, the Roederer was simpler than I would have hoped and a significant drop off in quality from the Roederer bottles of the ‘60s, ‘50s and older, which all have legendary potential in them. I am not sure when this quality curve changed, perhaps coinciding with an increase in production of Cristal. The Roederer was clean and fresh with light aromas of yellow and toast. The palate was a little pungent, with flavors of urine and minerals (89M).

A magnum of 1979 Pol Roger Sir Winston Churchill had decadent vanilla aromas. It was ‘peachy and slaty’ per Todd, aka the Hillbilly, and also had great white musk and light toast aromas, more like bread soaked in oil. The palate was still young, very young, with nice bread, toast and white chocolate flavors. There was a bit of dirty earth on the finish, holding it back a bit (94+M).

A 1979 Veuve Clicquot La Grande Dame was gorgeous and lived up to its name. The Great one was admiring its soft, caressing nature. It was very floral with crushed, crystallized fruit aromas, sprinkled in sugar. A touch of hay added complexity. The palate was very clean. It was also long and fresh and possessed great effervescence, an effervescence that was more about its bubbles than its acidity. The Hillbilly said, ‘JK 94,’ and he was right. What can I say, the guy worships me :) (94).

We did a fascinating comparison of three bottles of 1979 Krug, all with different disgorgement dates. ‘Real geeky wine stuff,’ Bruce gleefully admitted. The first was believed to be the original release, some time in the mid-80s. Alexander found it ‘very creamy,’ and Todd ‘more golden.’ It was big and bold, full of that Krug vanilla cream, but it was really more egg cream this time. While big, rich and bold, the ’79 was also a touch aggressive. Bruce thought it had ‘more yeast, balance and development.’ It stayed eggy but in a good way. The second bottle was disgorged in 1990, and showed more youthfully accordingly. Alexander noted, ‘white cherry,’ but there was also a slight must to this bottle. On the palate, it also had the egg, more wood and vanilla cream pie. Big, rich and bubbly, while there was more muscle here, there was also more BO, as in cork issues. The third bottle of 1979 Krug was disgorged in 1988. Again eggy, the third bottle finally had everyone jumping on my egg bandwagon. Todd called it ‘hard-boiled and sulfury.’ This bottle was the best balanced, and while lighter, it was tastier, too. The Hillbilly found it ‘less robust,’ but then again, he’s a big guy and needs those 99-point Shirazes, Priorats and Chateauneufs to wake up his senses lol. He didn’t think it would go well with Possum Stew, always a big factor in his ratings scale. Speaking of which, while all three bottles were different, and one was affected, I found them all to be qualitatively equal and (95).

It was at this point that Bruce started grumbling about the female sommelier he hired to serve at the party. The Hillbilly was all over him, saying ‘you can’t get a girl to come over even when you pay her, and she doesn’t even have to have sex with you.’ It was quite a funny moment, and no one enjoyed it more than the Hillbilly, who hooted and hollered for approximately the next five minutes. We gave him some oxygen to settle him down.

But it was really the 1979 Krug Collection from magnum that got Todd’s attention. The Collection had a great, toasty nose with unreal vanilla cream aromas. The HB noted, ‘more linear and saline…a tighter package.’ It absolutely was, and racy enough for any major speedway. It had a rocket-like finish that took off, leaving a trail of dust, minerals and spice. This was the first Champagne I insisted on seconds (96+M).

A 1979 Taittinger Comtes de Champagne Rose had a nice nose, very floral in a thick way. There was red rose and strawberry fruit, mint and chocolate. The nose was outstanding and really seduced me, but the palate was milder and more elegant, simple with its sweet and earthy personality. The King agreed about the nose, but found it ‘too sweet like cotton candy.’ Alexander the Great also found it ‘sugary like lemonade’ (92).

We had our first wine of the night, and it was from Arizona, our friend Maynard’s estate Cabernet, of which he makes about 90 cases in total. The 2007 Caduceus Cabernet Sauvignon Nagual del Judith was an inky baby. It had a young, sappy and seepy nose, quite juicy in that New World way. There were nice minerals dancing around a core of superripe cassis, make that hardcore; this is Tool we are talking about! The palate was rich, saucy and juicy, with nice flesh to its finish, very good definition and traces of earth, melons and coffee grinds. The winery was named after the staff of Hermes; of course, King Angry insisted that his staff was bigger lol. This was a well-made wine by someone who takes his wine very seriously, and I look forward to trying more wines from him in the future (93).

There were three more ‘79s to go, though, and they were three of Champagne’s finest. The 1979 Louis Roederer Cristal was distinctively Cris. It was very bready, with fine, sweet vanilla wafer, smoke, orange rind and crème brulee aromas in the nose. The palate was rich and heady with a sweet, oily core and an aggressive ‘burnt’ edge in the mouth. Very full-bodied, this ’79 was quite wild on the palate, sporting earth and weed flavors, but they were balanced by pleasing caramel, sweet margarine and yellow corn ones. Bruce hailed it as ‘great and staggering.’ There was a hint of celery, veggie goodness here. At first, the Cristal was all over the place, almost too complex, or as Todd put it, ‘a little furry.’ It really rounded out with some time in the glass, its sweetness reined itself in, and it got oily, kinky and sexy, three of my favorite things when they are enjoyed simultaneously (95+).

While I enjoyed the 1979 Salon more than the Cristal at first, by the time I had finished evaluating the both of them, the Cristal had snuck ahead. The Salon was clean and racy like light speed in the nose. It was so focused with its aromas of white fruits, ice and granulated sugar. It had the perfect sweetness, and it was a ‘laser cannon’ per the Hillbilly. The sweetness carried its perfection over to its rich palate through a rainbow of lemon and lime flavors. Its finish was long, and it had great balance. It was elegant but still big, starting to plateau and mellow, and it continued to mellow more in the glass while the Cris took off. The King added ‘vanilla cream soda’ (95).

Last and certainly not least was the 1979 Krug Clos du Mesnil. The last two bottles that I have had of this were horribly corked; thankfully, history would not repeat itself, and this bottle lived up to its historic reputation. This was the first vintage for what is now considered by many to be greatest Champagne made year in and year out, the Romanee Conti of the Champagne world. The Mesnil had a big, scintillating nose full of cinnamon, antique wood and vanilla bean. It was so big that it came across almost beefy. Deep and regal, it required our complete attention. The palate was rich, heavy and hearty, with its cinnamon and wood qualities carrying over to the palate. It was absolutely delicious, like drinking feathers and still having the meat along with it. With air and food, the wood melted away into a butter bomb. The Mesnil became saucy and decadent, rich and full of vanilla. ‘Vanilla cream soda,’ the King added. Wait a second, you said that for the Salon? ‘Make that celery soda,’ he laughed. This was finally the bottle of this legendary wine that I have been looking for; it didn’t disappoint (98).

It was time for some wine, and we began with a couple of Contis before heading over to Italy. Ray’s mystery wine had a gamy nose full of wintry red fruits and a kiss of menthol, along with rose, garden, citrus and tree bark. The palate was rich and intense with lots of red citrus fruits. There was great spice, tree flavors and a leathery finish that supported cedar and mahogany flavors. It was a delicious 1983 DRC Echezeaux. I have said it before, that many 1983 Burgs can be surprisingly good, especially for DRC’s (94).

The Ech was paired with a 1985 DRC Grands Echezeaux. Alexander the Great noticed ‘beet cottage’ right away in its big, beefy nose. There were lots of brown aromas, but not as in mature. Some vitamins and rose crept out behind the beef. The palate was oily and concentrated, almost too much so, again beefy. Its finish was lip-smacking but bruising, and the GE was a bit broad-shouldered at the moment. Although I thought the ’85 to be the better wine as far as its raw materials and long-term aging potential, I preferred the ’83 Ech on this night, as did Maynard and Ray (95+).

It was on to the Italians and the Solderas, Tuscany’s true First Growth. By the way, all Solderas are Casse Basse, which is the name of the estate, I believe. There has long been confusion about whether a Soldera is Casse Basse or not, but they all are! The 1997 Soldera Brunello Riserva had a sweet cherry core but was really all about the dust. There was also a cigar dipped in chocolate aroma in this deep, dark wine. The palate was rich and concentrated with great smoked Brunello flavors of beef, earth and leather. I was pleasantly surprised by this 1997, which seems to have floundered in the secondary market recently. Why, I am not sure (95).

The 1995 Soldera Brunello Riserva was more leathery with lots of peanuty goodness to its nose. One could tell the 1995 and 1997 were related, as the Soldera style translates in any vintage. The palate was rich and thick, full of tobacco, black fruit and tar flavors, also marked by a little egg. Its finish was much drier than the 1997’s, and it exerted itself firmly on the back end (94+).

The 1993 Soldera Brunello Riserva followed suit admirably for a vintage that isn’t considered to be a great one. Besides the usual suspects, aromas of glue and oat made their presence known. The 1993 was still rich in fruit although lighter than the previous two vintages, and flavors of leather and sour cherry candy were there in this fairly concentrated wine (93).

The 1990 Soldera Brunello Riserva had more garden and bell pepper at first, blacker fruits and a very nutty profile. It was by far the deepest and most expansive nose. The palate was thicker than anything else either, almost over the top with its motor oil concentration. Burnt coffee grinds simmered in the background. This was the essence of Brunello, and when I say essence I mean where something is taken and then reduced and concentrated. The 1990 was so concentrated that everyone lost complete focus, but that usually happens around wine #19 lol. While the 1990 stood out, the entire flight was consistently amazing and a reminder as to the greatness being achieved here (95+).

Unfortunately, a 1985 Soldera Brunello Riserva was corked (DQ).

There was one last dance, a flight of Monfortinos beginning with the 1958 Giacomo Conterno Barolo Monfortino Riserva. The nose was fabulous, and everything one could want in an old Barolo. There were mature aromas of sweet tea fruit, earth, tobacco, tar, minerals, leather, citrus, oil, smoked meats and truffles. The palate was quite concentrated as well, thick bordering on syrupy. The strength of the acidity was mind-boggling; this was a powerful wine and at age 41 showing no signs of slowing down (96).

The 1961 Giacomo Conterno Barolo Monfortino Riserva was more classic in style, a cleaner, more elegant and feminine style of this wine. This was a beauty, making the 1958 a beast. There was also more reserve and depth in the ’61. Reserve, breed and class all came to mind. The palate was delicious with its mix of tobacco, citrus, autumn and bouillon flavors. Again, there was impressive acidity here, and great smack to its finish, which was full of citrus and earth (97).

The 1964 Giacomo Conterno Barolo Monfortino Riserva had aromas of sweet cherry, seemingly more mature than its older siblings, but it still possessed a tight core of leather, citrus, old book, tobacco leaf, varnish and sweet cigar aromas. It was round and rich with excellent acidity, nice leather and citrus flavors, and a gritty finish. Again, the acidity really impressed (94).

The last of the four horsemen here was the 1971 Giacomo Conterno Barolo Monfortino Riserva. The 1971 was more anisy, and bready in a biscotti way. The palate had lots of black fruits, and this came across as the youngest by far, more so than the actual age difference. The acidity again was superb, and its flavors were thick but more tangy, and also more primary at this stage (95).

There was one last wine on the program, a 1976 Dom Perignon. This was a fantastic bottle of Dom, complete with that granulated sugar goodness, rich and delicious. It was long, focused and youthful. Awesome summed it up (95).

I am hoping this turns into a monthly occurrence!

FIN

JK

VINTAGE TASTINGS - 50 In Style

There’s something about July and birthdays that works for me. A close friend and loyal Acker client recently turned 50, and he celebrated in the finest of fashions with two dinners this month, the first of which celebrated his birth year, 1959. He has occasionally made his way into some previous vintage tasting notes, but due to a personal request, let’s just call him ‘Mr. Happy.’ It is most certain that everyone in attendance for this extraordinary evening was giddy by the time the night was over, and the food at Per Se didn’t make anyone grumpy, either.

The evening started with a bang and the only Rhone for the night. The 1959 Chateau de Beaucastel Chateauneuf du Pape had an explosive and amazing nose; this was clearly an incredible bottle, love at first sniff. Actually, it was Domaine de Beaucastel at the time. I guess they got some new digs soon thereafter! Anyone that thinks Chateauneuf cannot compete with the greatest wines of the world need to start with old Beaucastel. Jules gave it a ‘hubba hubba,’ while Amy added ‘smoked bacon.’ Deep garrigue was accompanied by green olive, smoked meats (indeed), menthol and juicy red fruit aromas in this spicy nose. Jean Luc admired the ‘mint,’ while Sarah admired its balance. The palate was rich, saucy, hearty and earthy, and its acidity was still young; this wine was still ascending at age 50, much like Mr. Happy. Flavors of chocolate, great earth and hints of rust and tobasco on the finish made this wine even more special. Jules summed it up, ‘it’s like really good Wagyu; it just melts in your mouth’ (97).

We quickly moved to Burgundy and a 1959 Mommesin Clos de Tart. Mr. Happy quickly gave it an ‘oh my God and wow.’ It was classic ’59 with that sweet hint of over the top ripeness. The wine was bursting with red fruits, ‘iron ore’ per Jean Luc, and the Happy one concurred with ‘minerality.’ Hints of orange peel and yeast proceeded in this complex nose, along with whiffs of good wood, beef satay and hot cereal with the brown sugar. Its flavors were sweet and tender, silky with hints of metallic goodness, like a shield from bad wine. Mr. Happy found it rhymingly ‘sappy,’ and it was smooth but still a bit hot (94).

The Tart was paired with a 1959 Noellat Romanee St. Vivant, which was about as good as an old Noellat as I have had. It was also sexy with that sweet ’59 style, syrupy and sugary with hints of orange again, but more citrus overall. It was tasty with a bittersweet finish, again with hints of tobasco. The Noellat was hearty with a twisted spice, like brown leather syrup. While the Clos de Tart danced more, the Noellat could knock you out. Jean Luc found it ‘more put together,’ but its ‘dustiness’ bothered Sarah a bit (93).

Some foie gras was served, along with the classic pairing of Sauternes and a 1959 Rayne Vigneau. Despite the magic of the matching, I still find having a sweet wine in the middle of many dry ones a bit intrusive. Nonetheless, I serviced with a smile. The Rayne had a nice nose with aromas of coconut, candle wax and almost a bit of beef. The palate had ‘serious dried fruit’ per our host, peach to be precise. It was rich and sweet with a tender, soft finish. The foie gras brought out its mid-palate and finish more (93).

The next flight was one of Musigny, with a bonus round. The 1959 Moillard-Grivot Musigny had lots of brown sugar in its nose in that chapitalized way. It was very Asian in its profile, and also had some hot, salty pretzel in there. The nose was hearty, spicy and woodsy, but the palate was light, a touch metallic, although it leveled out in a leathery direction. Sarah concurred that the ‘aromatics are on steroids,’ but the palate, although beefy, had tutti frutti fruit and a square finish, although some emerging chocolate flavors didn’t hurt (92).

The 1959 Vogue Musigny Vieilles Vignes was a superb bottle. It had sweet, delicate cherry vanilla aromas with much purer and high-toned fruit. There was lots of citrus here in this very bright and ‘framed’ (Jean Luc) wine. There was also a decadent, floral, lavender soap quality without the soapiness. The Moillard-Grivot versus the Vogue was like bowling versus baseball; ‘no, you mean versus soccer,’ Jean Luc insisted with a smile. Someone admired its ‘precision,’ and Sarah its ‘raisiny’ qualities. This was definitely a raisin in the sun. The palate was round with nice spice, smack and pinch. It had great red citrus components that went on and on; this wine kept on giving all through the night (96).

A 1959 DRC La Tache was a most welcome way to say goodbye to Burgundy. This bottle was a bit affected, but still outstanding. It was quite meaty, almost like meat liqueur, beefy yet tropical as well. There was a touch of cork, and a hint of maderization as well, but it was a fine line between that and gamy. The palate was rich and hearty, brawny and soupy. It had the most muscle of any Burgundy so far, and the most serious acidity of the night as well; in these regards, it was no contest. The inherent greatness of this wine was evident despite it being gamier than usual and despite it having some cork issues (95+A).

It was time for Bordeaux, and we started with some Pomerols, namely a 1959 La Conseillante, which had a fresh, young nose filled with purple fruit galore. Vanilla, musk and hints of coconut unveiled in its sexy nose. There was also gauze there but no need for medical attention. Despite the cavernous nature of the nose, the palate was leaner, possessing more chalk and citrus although still nice purple fruit. Someone admired its ‘floral and rose petal’ qualities (91).

There was one magnum on this starry night, a magnum of 1959 Gazin. Its nose was rich with a deeper and sexier Pomerol kink. Royal garden, chocolate, cassis, plum and ceramics rounded out the nose. I preferred its smooth and satiny style to the Conseillante, as it was more balanced and also had more fruit on the palate. Jean Luc agreed, citing ‘more length’ on the Gazin (93M).

While the first two wines reminded me that 1959 wasn’t as good a year for Pomerol as it was for the Left Bank, the 1959 Petrus reminded me that Petrus doesn’t care. Jean Luc remarked, ‘its intensity is almost painful.’ There was a deep core of alcohol and acidity, as well as an ocean of plum and cassis. Its initial wood blew off into garden, chimney and ceramic, and its palate was absolutely f’in delicious. It popped and hit warp speed, leaving the other two Pomerols in another galaxy. Rich, regal, long and with great spine, slate and vigor, the Petrus made me change my mind about ’59 Pomerols (96+).

The 1959 Ausone wasn’t bad either. Was this the last great year of Ausone until the ‘80s? Perhaps, perhaps. The Ausone needed a lot of work as in aeration to shed its very dusty nose. Red fruits slowly emerged, along with big-time black licorice, rye bread and caraway seeds. It spine and spice created an impression of a deep forest in the heart of winter. The palate was saucy and firm, and it had soupy good fruit, and ‘tar on the back end’ per Jean Luc. Rich, delicious and ultimately perfumed, the Ausone was outstanding (95).

A 1959 Palmer was ‘stinky in the best possible way,’ according to Sarah. Additional aromas of cigar, tobacco, yeast and crusted red meat with a sea-like twist made up its unique nose. The palate was good but a little underwhelming after the Petrus and Ausone (92).

It was not a good day for the Left Bank, as its other representative, a 1959 Latour, was way too oaky, to be frank. I just couldn’t deal with it at this point in time, although I just think it was an off batch rather than an off bottle, so to speak (DQ).

There were a few dessert wines that continued the celebration, one being a 1959 J.J. Prum Wehlener Sonnenuhr Riesling Auslese. It smelled like mother’s milk. There was a whiff of oak that was so clean; it was amazingly young for a 50 year-old Riesling, and its color looked like it could be less than 10 years old! It was delicious and clean, linear and focused, elegance wine-sonified. Vanilla flavors lingered on its finish (93).

The 1959 Huet Vouvray Le Haut Lieu was much sweeter, musky and seepy, rich and smoky with a hint of Sauternes here. Aromas and flavors of yummy honeycomb, apricot and hints of dandelion were all present in this great wine (95).

There was another German, our last sweet wine of the night, a 1959 Von Schubert Maximin Grunhauser Herrenberg Riesling Beerenauslese. It had deep honey and kink in the nose. Thick, rich with a swath of wood but decadent honey to balance it, the Von Schubert was rich, lush and impressive (95).

We had our only bubbly from 1959, a 1959 Cristal. Although it was a little tough going dry after all those sweets, the Cristal managed to show quite well, although it might have showed a point or so better at the beginning of the night. Aromas of baked bread came out first in this rich and decadent nose, although the dessert wines definitely cut the sweetness in the mouth. Someone observed ‘a key lime citrus burst’ in the mouth, no doubt getting that tang due to the dessert wines stealing some sugar from the spotlight. Flavors of oats, earth and yeast were more dominant accordingly, and there was still a kiss of spritz in this sunsetting yet beautiful Cris (94).

There was actually one last wine, a blind wine, served courtesy of one of Mr. Happy’s friend’s who could not make the event. He knew the lineup in advance, and wanted to get him something that he would never forget. The nose had ‘green apple jolly rancher’ per Mr. Happy. It was like Sprite meets Grappa to me. It smelled like I was in a nightclub where I didn’t know the address (not a good thing), and ‘waking up next to a stranger’ per one of the ladies on hand. It was a NV Thunderbird, particular flavor undetermined, if they even have flavors of that swill lol. It was the first time I ever had some T’bird, and definitely the last. Man, that stuff was putrid, so it got the rare ‘Not Recommended’ (NR).

A toast was in order, and a good friend of Mr. Happy delivered and summed up this celebration with one of his favorite quotes, ‘Though youth gave us love and roses, age still leaves us friends and wine.’

I will always drink to that.

FIN…

…but it wasn’t over. Two days later, we were together again, this time closer to Mr. Happy’s home upstate, and with a whole host more people, including many of the Acker crew. It still had its share of 1959s, although since there were over fifty people, and at least six bottles of every wine served, there was a wider range of wines on this evening.

A glass of 1985 Salon kicked things off. It had a yeasty nose with lots of game and a miso glaze, also with hints of white chocolate and musk. The palate was rich, spritely and long with excellent lift. Very meaty and very gamy, the 1985 Salon again gave me the impression that it might mature earlier than other Salons from top vintages, but it was still outstanding and with serious structure (95).

A 1971 Schloss Eltz Rauenthaler Baissen Riesling Spatlese was delicious, just a pure, hedonistic and juicy Riesling that was in the perfect sweet spot, aka not too sweet and not too dry. There were great petrol aromas and sweet fruit, and aromas of honey, musk, apricot and lychee. There were rich flavors of orange and honey glaze, and a hint of nice ‘butter’ per Alexander the Great (93).

A flight of 2002 Burgs were next, beginning with a 2002 Henri Gouges Nuits St. Georges Blanc La Perriere and ending with a Pillot that I will get to in a minute. Both were pungent and acidic at first, but the Gouges the more so of the two. It had a pungent, anisy nose with aromas of rusted metal and wet earth, but the palate was rich with a lot of backside showing. It had a bruising style, big but clumsy (91).

The Jean-Marc Pillot Puligny Montrachet Cailleret had a cleaner nose that was more mineral driven and rocky, with tantalizing hints of dew-laced yellow fruits. It was balanced with a really nice perfume to it, and what I would call ‘make up flavors.’ Rainwater flavors were clean, elegant and stylish (93).

A 1959 Josef Schmitt Trittenheimer Apotheke Riesling Auslese had a great, yeasty nose with additional aromas of orange peel, rubber, mint and a kiss of very mature wood. Alexander noticed ‘basement,’ and that was a ‘great’ call, of course. There were good sugar flavors on its oily palate with a kiss of cement (94+).

The procession of ‘59s continued with a 1959 Cune Rioja Reserva Especial Vina Real. Aromas of chocolate, game, iodine and lots of leather sat perched in the glass, alert and ready for duty. The palate was also very leathery, still young and with a nice citrus smack to its finish. The Unico that followed made the Cune seem drier and outclassed this excellent Rioja, although others did prefer the Cune, as difficult as I found that to believe (93).

The 1959 Vega Sicilia Unico was incredibly exotic and complex. There was a lot more wood in the nose at first, but it soon gave way to cherry, vanilla and soy, along with a sweet, leathery kink. The wine was flat-out delicious, rich and meaty in that kinky, Unico style. Its kink was in the citrus and leather family, and the wine was edgy and hit staccato notes deftly. It was a great, classic Unico with nice musk, great spice and crackle to its finish, which still had good tannins (95+).

We had the 1959 Moillard-Grivot Musigny again, and I liked the bottle better on this night, perhaps because it was the only Burgundy on this evening ? (Actually, there was one more later, off the menu, so to speak…) Competition can be tough, as we all know. It was ‘blue velvet’ per Alexander, whose greatness was showing brightly again. This bottle came across more regally, and its long, gritty tannins played out well with earth, autumn and red fruit flavors (93).

A jero of 1959 Gruaud Larose had a reticent nose, deep but reticent, with nice black fruits, nuts and earth, but shy overall. The palate had classic qualities although it was a bit fruit forward. Bright and round, it was long and gritty but simple, possibly reconditioned (91J).

It was dueling jeros, the next being a 1989 Chateau de Beaucastel Chateauneuf du Pape. The week was coming full circle, and the Beaucastel was a complete wine to match. Alexander the Great found ‘pork rinds and salty bacon,’ and along with that there was deep violet, cassis and all the black fruits, dark as night, with a hint of garrigue. The palate was superb with hints of pepper and more black fruits, and phenomenal t ‘n a. Its earth components were gritty, agile and balanced, and its finish thick. The ’89 remains a great wine and the true modern-day legend of this legendary estate (96J).

A 1983 Jaboulet Hermitage La Chapelle was a worthy adversary, ‘irony’ per the Great One, who added ‘blood.’ It was much more wound than I remember it last being, but upon looking at the bottle, it did look like a later release. Aromas of black fruits, earth and hot stones were complemented by a big, beefy palate, which was really sturdy for a 1983. It had lots of power and a similar finish to the Beaucastel in its gritty, earthy and balanced style, although it had a more roasted flavor to it (94).

There was one last wine to this night, a 1959 DRC La Tache redux, from the same batch as the bottle served two nights prior at Per Se. It was also gamy with a bit of stew and raisin at first. Mr. Happy noted ‘sous bois city.’ It opened up into aromas of bouillon, autumn, earth, a pinch of cola and wild greens. The palate was insanely good – rich, hearty and fatty like a good piece of sashimi, with awesome concentration, hearty garden flavors and superb acidity. It both danced and boxed, to continue an analogy from the first evening. This was special stuff, and it may not have been a 100% perfect bottle, either, but it didn’t matter (97).
What a week and many thanks to Mr. Happy. Encore encore! I think you need to turn fifty again next year, and the year after that, and the year after that…

FIN

JK

VINTAGE TASTINGS - Bad Boy Birthday Bash

July 2nd proved to be one of the year’s most noteworthy wine bashes, a birthday celebration for wine’s original ‘Bad Boy’ and 12 Angry Manner Bruce. Bruce is a veteran of the music industry and accordingly knows how to throw a party, and about forty of his closest friends including many significant others gathered at his home for a celebration of wine and Champagne.

It started in fast and furious fashion, as when I arrived with Big Boy, such dignitaries as Airplane Eddie, Tennessee Tom, Wheels, Brad and others were already sampling some goodies, and when I say goodies, I mean some really goodies. Everyone’s generosity was on full display in honor of our gracious host.

A quick glass of bubbly came my way to waken up the palate, and it was an obscure 1969 Reserve Selection Le Mesnil, apparently some joint bottling made by the growers at the time of the famed Champagne vineyard. It was the first time that I ever even saw such a bottling, and it had a rich and fat nose with aromas of butter and vanilla. It was toasty and smoky but a bit alcoholic, rough around the edges and a bit chemical in its flavor profile, but an interesting experience nonetheless (88).

There was a lot of DRC going around the room, a lot of which was thanks to Wheels, so I did my best to catch up quickly. A 1964 DRC La Tache had a dusty nose, but there was sweet perfume behind it, mainly rose with a lot of minerals in tow. The palate was rich, hearty and gamy, classic 1964, with a sweet front palate that was ‘beautiful’ (95).

The 1962 DRC La Tache was even better. There was more lift and breed to its nose, which displayed fine aromas of regal garden and tobasco goodness. The nose was so fine and expressive, gamy and sweet in that perfect, old Burgundy way. The palate had length, fatness and richness, also gamy and meaty as well. It was pretty extraordinary and a testament to how good ‘62s can be when they are on, although Eddie chimed in that he had had better bottles. True, I have had 99-pointers as well of this wine, but neither of us were complaining (96+).

What better way to follow up the ’62 La Tache than with a 1962 DRC Romanee Conti. There was this initial hint of baby powder in the nose, which was deeper, thicker and richer than the La Tache. There was a kiss of good stink here along with enough meat to satisfy the hungriest of carnivores. The wine was rich and saucy, smooth and luscious. Its rich, gamy fruit had ‘rose petals galore,’ but its palate was smoother and more satiny than the nose led me to believe, showing more of that ’62 class. It was very balanced with nice slate and minerals on its finish, which was a ‘good dirty’ (96).

Big Boy pulled out one of the real treasures in his cellar, a 1923 Liger-Belair La Tache. I was lucky enough to have this bottle from Rob with Louis Michel Liger-Belair a few months ago, and I was more than happy to have it again. It was a ‘wow’ wine. The nose was so rich and saucy with incredible complexity, just so much going on. Minerals, gravel, dust and spice were perched atop beefy, rich fruit, with additional aromas of tomato, garden, oil and a pinch of Worcestershire. The palate was rich and still hearty after all these years, flat-out fantastic. Its acidity was endless. This is definitely one of the greatest wines ever made (98).

The hits kept on coming as a 1929 DRC Romanee Conti was next, courtesy of Eddie. Unfortunately, it was a touch corked, but it did blow off and was still well worth getting to know, and the palate was not even showing any traces of cork. The wine was satiny smooth with great texture and hints of earth, spice, dust and leather. There was great mouth feel to this gorgeous wine, whose acidity was still there, but not as forceful as the ‘23’s. A touch of citrus rounded out another classic, whose palate was so good, I was hesitant to call it ‘affected,’ but I decided ultimately that it was affected due to its nose (95A).

Next up was my contribution for the evening, a jeroboam of 1957 DRC La Tache, and what a jero it was. This is one of the few wines from 1957, Bruce’s birth year, that can still deliver, and out of jeroboam it was extraordinary. This bottle would be a good exhibit A for those that feel the best barrels often went into the large formats of DRC. The nose was gorgeous and pungent, wild and gamy with that pure La Tache style. It was incredibly aromatic, with oceans of spice, mushroom, truffle oil and garden. The palate was juicy and saucy, rich with beautiful rose hip flavors and the Vitamin C. Eddie hailed the nose as ‘singing’ while King Angry, a late arrival due to holiday traffic, observed its ‘burnt’ qualities, although he was not hating. This wine was still singing out of the bottle eight hours later…impressive (95J).

The 1942 Krug signaled the end of the procession of Romanee Conti, although I would soon sample one more that had already been opened before I got there. Of course, we had big Boy to thank for this treasure, from this rarely seen vintage of Champagne. This was special stuff, with heavenly aromas of butter and vanilla. The bubbly had perfect color and poise, and its palate had a perfect balance of fruit and finish. Bubbles were still present though mature. Butter butter butter was what this beauty was about, although there were great cement flavors to its fine finish. The nose became grainy. Big Boy came over to me and asked, ‘what did you give this, 96, 97 points?’ To which I replied, ‘it’s right there on the border of 97.’ Big Boy was pleased that he knows my palate. Everything about this Champagne was beautiful, but I kept it South of the 97-point border in the end, as its ‘earlier’ maturity kept it from that ‘best wines that I have ever had’ category, but it sure was close (96+).

A blind wine came out courtesy of Mr. Antonio Galloni. Of course, it had to be an Italian wine, although it gave me a bit of a Bordeaux impression at first, until a few swirls brought out its true character. It had a deep nose full of mocha, cedar, earth, leather and a nutty glaze. Alexander the Great chipped in, ‘Christmas tree sap,’ and there was also this kinky tar. The palate was great, leathery and gritty with intense spice. Flavors of tar and chocolate were dominant, and this 1982 Giacosa Barolo Collina Rionda was in a great spot, and it wasn’t even a Riserva (95).

Antonio also treated us to a 1970 Giacosa Barolo Collina Rionda, which had a much milder nose to the 1982. There was more wheat cracker, yeast and zeppole here, and the palate was smooth and balanced with nice tannins, but it left a simpler impression after the 1982 despite nice grit on its finish (92).

I got a swallow of the 1934 DRC Romanee Conti that somehow I missed prior. It was only a swallow, so forgive the brief note. This wine has been amongst the greatest of my life, and while this bottle was great, it was a bit affected and browned around the edges. There were unique pizza oven aromas, which were probably in their tertiary or later stages by the time I got to taste. The palate was thick, rich, saucy and oily with flavors of orange zest, slate and port (95+A).

Eddie pulled another whopper out of his arsenal, this being a double magnum of 1955 La Mission Haut Brion. It was another special bottle, and our first of only a few Bordeaux on this magical night. As can be typical with old La Mission, gravel and slate jumped out of the nose. Slate continued to dominate, but black fruits slowly crawled out from underneath, along with charcoal, peanut and chocolate. On the palate, slate and chocolate continued to exert their influences, along with nice plum. Rich, long and fine, the ’55 had a thick finish where the gravel and charcoal came out again. Zippy, long and extraordinary, the La Miss was still young out of double mag (96+D).

A magnum of 1953 DRC Richebourg was unfortunately quite gassy and like ‘rancid crayons,’ per King Angry. Needless to say, it was (DQ).

A 1964 R. Engel Grands Echezeaux had a chapitalized nose with aromas of brown sugar, oat and a touch of pizza crust. Eddie wasn’t impressed, calling it ‘burnt in the mouth, horrible tail.’ There were some rich red fruits in the mouth, but there was also a bit of alley, barn and animal as well (89).

A 1969 Hudelot Musigny had that same chapitalized style of the Engel, possessing brown sugar, oat and more rust. The finish was longer and better, gritty and stony. Someone called it ‘pungent egg soaked in alcohol.’ It was very good, but you had to like that chapitalized style (91).

It was time for some more bubbly, and King Angry had brought a rare jeroboam of 1945 Ruinart. Wheat jumped out of the nose, along with a touch of grass, hay and ‘camomille frappucino’ per The Great One, who then added, ‘pumpernickel,’ while I added buttered. It was tasty, round and smooth, definitely possessing camomille flavors as well. It had richness with a dollop of sauciness, a hint of lime and a nutty finish. Butter and ‘caramel’ joined the party, and I found the Ruinart excellent, although a bit wild and woolly, and aggressive for some (93J).

A 1964 Krug Collection had a superb nose, possessing great freshness. There were aromas of whitewall tires along with the leather interior, and white fruits, flowers and rain. The palate was classic, long and dry, although at first a bit linear. Someone called it ‘ordinary for Krug,’ but its acidity slowly started to emerge, and it took off like a rocket. It became more buttery, more gamy, more minerally, just more. It zipped into the future and finished strongly (95+).

A pair of Goisses were next, beginning with a magnum of 1966 Philipponat Clos des Goisses, which came across young as heck. It was recently redisgorged, of course, in 2003. Pungent and gamy, it was spritely, long and zippy, but simple. King Angry found it ‘primary’ (91M).

The 1964 Philipponat Clos des Goisses magnum was also recently redisgorged (in 2000), but I enjoyed it much more. There were more mature flavors of rich butter and a great core. Rich, racy and zippy, I couldn’t read my notes too well other than great iron flavors. The King made a great point about how the extra three years of disgorgement made a big difference, but I think that there were also some inherent differences in the style of the wines and vintages. After about twenty wines, the notes started to get a little brief, as I was not spitting much. Apologies in advance of the rest of this article (94M).

A mini-Krug vertical broke out, beginning with a 1982 Krug Clos du Mesnil, which had amazing aromatics. The palate was rich yet reticent in what could best be described as a sleeping beauty (95).

The 1979 Krug Clos du Mesnil, its first vintage, was corked. That sucked (DQ).

The 1985 Krug Clos du Mesnil was fantastic. It was rich, buttery and classic, so balanced and long, make that really long. Its zip and zoom were still massive, although it was in a spot where the words ‘Great Awakening’ came to mind. It was King Angry’s favorite ‘young’ bottle of champagne from the evening; he loved its powerful fruit and acidity, but also the fact that it was ‘light as a feather’ (97).

The 1969 Krug Collection magnum was right there with the ’64, possessing tart lemon flavors balanced by sweet marzipan kisses. It was outstanding (95M).

The 1995 Dom Perignon out of jeroboam was long, grainy, edgy and zippy but one-dimensional. Ray and Bruce thought it was ‘flat-out great,’ Ray adding ‘smoky aromas, a wealth of yellow fruit and that creamy DP style…staggering.’ I should add that they were both plastered at this point lol. The King had his hand on a saber already, so I didn’t want to argue (92J).

The 1979 Krug Collection magnum was the same as it ever was, but old Krug is always a lot better than Old Milwaukee, and this old Krug was still young. Racy and zippy, NASA should test the ’79 as an alternative to rocket fuel (95+M).

A flurry of wines came back before the Champagnes answered the bell one last time. 1961 La Mission Haut Brion, now that got my attention. It was another classic La Miss, with gravel and great, rich cassis fruit to match. Long and sensual, the wine was good too :) (95).

A magnum of 1929 Rausan Segla from the Grunewald cellar now via Minnesota’s #1 troublemaker was extraordinary. Is there a bottle from Wolfgang’s cellar that hasn’t been? The Segla was sweet, rich, round and lush, displaying dynamite old book and ‘library’ aromas and flavors (95).

The Artful Roger was in the house, with bags of…wine in tow. One of those wines was a 1969 Rousseau Clos de la Roche, which was so mint jelly I wanted a lamb chop. I am actually not eating red meat for the summer, so restraint was in order. It was rich, sweet, lush and exotic, still delicate and full of menthol (94).

The 1966 Guigal Cote Rotie La Mouline was full of violets and purple fruits along with light pepper. Rich, long and creamy, it still had acidity and length. Its pepper turned more to shades of white in the mouth, and the first vintage of La Mouline again proved to be timeless and extraordinary (96).

A magnum of 1966 Palmer was beautiful and classic, long and feminine and gorgeous. It still had edge and a lot of slate on its finish (94).

The next wine I had I can’t read what it was or remember. It was from ’83, maybe ’93, and it was leathery, long and balanced. Highly recommended :) (93).

A 1962 Vega Sicilia Unico was delicious. Rich and headstrong, possessing classic Unico leather, kink, egg and meaty fruit, this magnum jumped off the page at the end of the night for its richness and vigor. It flirted with oaky but ended up being good ol’ fashioned good wood (95M).

A 1989 Coche-Dury Meursault Rougeots was in the house, again courtesy of the Artful Roger, and it was excellent. You want more notes, bring me another bottle ha ha (93).

There was a 1964 Dom Perignon Oenotheque, which was big and full of straw and hay. Zippy and heavy, this was serious stuff and an older green label Oeno. As the Angriest of the Angry pointed out, it had ‘remarkable freshness due to its late disgorgement as well as the complexity of a 45 year-old Champagne’ (95).

The 1996 Krug Clos du Mesnil shattered every glass in the room once opened. Champagne of a lifetime? Bet the house on it, with or without equity in it (98).

There was a 1988 Dom Perignon and a 1990 Taittinger Comtes de Champagne, both hanging out in that excellent zone. It started to get a little ugly, so the long, stumbling and mumbling goodbye commenced. I think the main point was thank you Bruce, thank you Bruce, thank you Bruce. To many mooooooooooooooorrrrrrre!!!

FIN

JK

VINTAGE TASTINGS - DRC Weekend

Bipin returned to Las Vegas this year to sample the cuisine of a couple of his favorite French chefs while they were in town, which is a lot easier than a trip to Paris! Joel Robuchon and Guy Savoy were both in Vegas, and Bipin followed suit accordingly since his aces were in the hole. Of course, he planned a wine weekend around it, and this year he was in the mood for some DRC. It ended up being a weekend of mainly Montrachet and La Tache, although thanks to some generosity of Midwestern Magnum Mark, a few Richebourgs made their way into the mix for some interesting perspective. As with every Bipin event, the food, the wine and the company were all extraordinary.

We started Friday night at Robuchon with a 2001 DRC Montrachet, whose nose jumped out of the glass with that DRC class. Sweet butter, musk heaven and a core of richness flirted with that touch of botrytis that the DRC Montys almost always have. The palate was shut down, however, leaving a soft and confused impression at first. There was nice, light grit and decent length but that soft impression never left. Flavors of white tea and ‘crushed almonds’ were present (per Mr. Wine Vegas, aka Gil), but this 2001 was definitely in a bit of a dumb phase (94).

The 2000 DRC Montrachet was more elegant than the ’01, long and cleaner in its aromas, more 2000 in style than DRC. There was a kiss of ice skating rink to its citrusy nose, and the palate was delicious, with lots of minerals, grit and elegance, although King Richard found it the ‘weak man here.’ It didn’t have the raw materials of the ’01, but I found it quite pleasant, although it did wane in the glass. The 2000 was singing for Ed, and Bipin admired its acidity (93).

The 1999 DRC Montrachet took control of our first flight with its spiny character. Gil admired ‘Chanel No. 5,’ while someone else called it ‘the most pungent,’ part of its spiny quality. The nose was full of anise, hot stones and minerals, and there were nice flavors to match. Rocky, spiny, edgy and long, the ’99 rocked and rolled over the previous two, and it was ‘the biggest of the flight, obviously,’ as King Richard decreed (95).

An animated discussion followed about the first flight. All were kind of closed and shut down; words like ‘disappointing, short and no subtlety’ were thrown around a bit maliciously, but given the price tag and expectations, perhaps they were a bit justified, but how a wine is showing versus what it is and where it is going are two different stories. ‘None are really showing right now,’ Mr. Vegas concurred, but we both agreed that all of these will benefit from Father Time.

The second flight began with the 1990 DRC Montrachet, which started to show the benefits of age in a very regal way. There were aromas of butter, oil, tea and a bit of fortune cookie here, and the palate was rich, smoky and long, with more noticeable alcohol. Richard observed, ‘more butter,’ and while the alcohol made the ’90 hotter, it stayed on the outskirts of integrated, and it was clearly the best Monty so far. Flavors of vanilla and rainforest rounded out this ‘marvelous, always marvelous’ wine according to Ed (95).

The 1989 DRC Montrachet was cleaner and spinier than the ’90, and its palate was long, clean and buttery, but simple. Gil noticed, ‘dill weed,’ and the ’89 was clearly softer and possessing less power than the ’90. It was a mismatch. No one was blown away by this tepid ’89 that had more flash than fortitude. Bipin admitted that the ’89 has always been disappointing and never impressive (92).

It was on to the reds, beginning with the 1998 DRC La Tache. The ’98 had a taut, vitaminy and leathery nose that showed the best qualities of the vintage. Gil admitted that 1998 was ‘a vintage that grows on you,’ and perhaps went a bit overboard with the question, ‘The 1993s of the future?’ The first red after a bunch of whites always makes a good impression lol. It had a pungent core with lots of cinnamon spice, and concentrated, fresh fruits in the nose, which continued to sing and change and develop. The palate was also leathery and cinnamony with more noticeable oak. Gil called it ‘ratatouille in a glass,’ and the tomato and garden were there. We both found this crazy yet distinct tequila with lime aroma in the nose after some time in the glass. It was a ‘wow’ impression once identified, as it was so strong! The palate stayed oaky and dry overall, but give this complicated La Tache some time to integrate, and you may have yourself a sleeper (92+).

The 1988 DRC La Tache had a lot of urine in its nose, or as Gil politically corrected me, ‘uric acid,’ in this nightclub sofa kind of way. Catbox, stewed tomato (‘canned actually,’ Mr. V chimed in), citrus and tang all emerged in this pungent nose, along with nice minerals. Both the nose and the palate turned green a la the incredible Hulk in this tannic wine, with me noting peas and Gil ‘fava beans.’ Whether that will be a good thing in the future remains to be seen (92+).

As noted already, a handful of Richebourgs made their way into our Montrachet and La Tache weekend, thanks to the generosity of Midwestern Magnum Mark. Merci beaucoup! I liked the nose of the 1988 DRC Richebourg better than the LT; there was more earth, more open red fruits, musk, forest, truffle and sweet mint aromas. The palate had delicious red fruits and nice citrus vigor; the Richebourg was classic and delicious. Gil called it a ‘Rayas impersonator with its Chateauneuf pepper.’ On this day and for this vintage, the Richebourg out-charmed the La Tache (93).

The 1993 DRC Richebourg was more coy and wound, like the vintage, with lots of stems and wintry red fruits in its nose. The palate was milky and stemmy, with nice earth and forest qualities but a bit unyielding overall (91).

Our overlapping trio of duets finished with a 1993 DRC La Tache, which was richer and more concentrated than the Richebourg. It has an oilier nose, and the palate was long and gritty with flavors of leather and strawberry, along with excellent earth and waterfall ones. King Richard found it ‘very lovely, pure silk.’ It kept growing and growing in the glass, and while this was not the magic of that one 97-point experience that I have had with this wine, it was still flirting with outstanding. 1993 DRCs do have a lot of variation, I should add (94+).

The next flight began with a gorgeous 1985 DRC La Tache. I have always loved this vintage for La Tache, despite the fact that it has always been picked on by some as far as the ‘great’ vintages of La Tache go. The nose was open, ripe and full of sweet red fruit. Rose, nut, mint, bouillon and game were all present. Its palate was more concentrated, oily and tasty, long and zippedy doo dah with its lipsmacking finish. There was real character here, and secondary flavors of cola and tobacco joined the party. Gil admired that ‘it has everything,’ and there were plenty of vitamins and pitch left on its young finish. It was ultimately Gil’s and my wine of the night (96).

Unfortunately, the 1978 DRC La Tache was oxidized. Ouch (DQ).

The 1990 DRC La Tache was the right stuff. Its nose was rich and concentrated, yet reticent. Very saucy, there was oil in dem dar hills. George called it ‘big and brutal,’ and it was full of foresty, black fruits. The palate had enough tannins and acidity for an entire vintage of Burgundy, with secondary hints of rubber tire. The finish was super hearty, but its fruit and up-front nature were shut down and quiet despite its obvious richness. To be continued…(95+).

The 2003 DRC La Tache sung ‘baby baby’ with its nose. Aromas of black raspberry and minerals dominated, and its nose gave me a bit of a 1998 impression. The palate was smooth and soft, and while thick, it just didn’t seem to have the acidity one wants for long-term aging, a knock on the vintage overall (93).

We had a treat for dessert, a 1900 d’Oliveras Madeira Barbeito. I love old Madeira, and although I rarely have dessert wine as I find it to be too much sugar for my body after having other wines (alcohol is sugar, after all), if I had to choose one dessert wine to have, it would be Madeira. Tea, molasses, tang, lemon, zip…all were present in this sexy, smacky wine. Still beefy, it was like molasses with a twist of lemon and a side of horseradish. Its concentration was outstanding (95).

Most found the 1985 to be the wine of the night, or at least the most enjoyable, although someone found the 1993 ‘the best wine in every respect.’

Day two was a lunch at Guy Savoy, with Guy himself manning the ship, which is always something extra special. Bipin said how he prefers lunch to dinner, as the palate is always fresher and more alert during the day. The 2006 DRC Montrachet kicked things off in a clean and fresh fashion, with yellow flowers and fruits seeping out of its nose, along with citrus and musk. There were nice minerals delicately perched atop its other aromas. The palate was round with medium body, good minerals and a nice finish. It had a pleasant, perfumed way about it, with some of its mineral qualities showing obtusely due to its youth, but overall it was a beautiful and promising, young Montrachet (94).

The 2005 DRC Montrachet had a deeper nose with more toast and wood, integrated at the last bar possible. The nose was bigger and had more weight, and a bit of spice was just right. The palate was really long, yet still delicate up front. It squeezed on the back side, however, with lots of minerals exerting themselves alongside citrus juice, twists and pop. There were lots of young, woodsy flavors here. Mark found the ‘06 ‘more delicate yet really closed,’ while the ’05 had more power and was ultimately the better wine. Bipin cooed how ‘the first two are incredible, the acidity is so high. The ’06 is flamboyant, and the ’05 needs time’ (95).

We time traveled with the second flight to the 1986 DRC Montrachet, which had a milky nose, ‘2 day old milk?’ Gil questioned. JJ added, ‘clams, sea salt, ocean.’ The nose was yeasty and buttery, with sweet corn, but it had that old feeling to it, older than it should have, perhaps. The palate was rich with a backside that was out of balance and woodsy in its flavor profile. The finish was hot and long with nice, slaty flavors of yeast and white cola. It got fresher and sweeter with air, morphing into corn oil meets caramel, getting dirty and staying rich. That reminds me of a few people lol. JB admired its high acidity, calling it ‘more ethereal and more feminine.’ In terms of its overall existence, the ’86 is declining, but still holding on to excellence (93).

The 1985 DRC Montrachet had a cleaner nose and came across elegantly with flashes of yellow, waterfall, hints of apple, grilled something a la sea bass or some sort of white fish, along with nice sprinkles of white Asian spices. The palate was a bit dirty in is flavors, soft, easy and round with more milky flavors. It was a bit stewy, with some alley and backwater as well. Mark observed ‘sawdust,’ and Gil ‘crushed Triscuit.’ It did gain in the glass and evened out with the 1986, and JB also found it ‘funky in the beginning but getting sweeter and more structure.’ For both these bottles, though, I wanted more (93).

The 1978 DRC Montrachet was spectacular as always. I have had this wine a half-dozen times in my life, and if there is a better DRC Montrachet, then I haven’t had it. JJ noted ‘milk house,’ and there was more power here in this ’78 than either of its predecessors, even though it was older. Musky goodness, fire and creamed corn were in its richer nose, which had nice toast and a smoky sex appeal. The palate was great with rich, buttery flavors, an oily palate and a long finish with the acidity of the previous two wines combined. This was special stuff. Its stalky flavors had lots of corn, too, along with lots of mountainous qualities. It was so rich and concentrated, with great musk and a lot of personality. While I have had 99 point bottles of this wine, this was ONLY (97). JB concurred, and he would know.

Montrachet’s turn was over, and it was back to La Tache, beginning with the 2004 DRC La Tache. The ’04 was super wound and high-pitched with aromas of crushed red fruits, sandalwood, black raspberry, stems, a kiss of nut butter and lots of t ‘n a. The nose was very expressive, and its acidity impressive. Mark was saying how he has been impressed with 2004s, especially DRCs, in general. This ’04, despite its youth, was really singing, and I kept noting its acidity over and over, a good sign for its future (94+).

The 2002 DRC La Tache was classic with its crushed roses, great spice, vitamins, great stems, olives and lots of citric tension. There was great (sensing a trend?) vim here, both to the nose and to the palate. Its flavors were long and stylish, elegant like a lady with a few bodyguards in tow. Its acidity was also superb, even more so than the ’04 as it was more reined in but still vigorous. ‘So good, so long, so fine’ summed it up. I couldn’t help but think about how great this 2002 was, and how the vintage is general is a bit under the radar in the market right now as far as top-tier vintages of Burgundy go. Everyone talks about 1999 and 2005, but 2002 could be a vintage that finds itself in that discussion more and more as time goes on (96).

The 2001 DRC La Tache had Gil’s attention right away, not something easy to accomplish. He noted ‘garrigue, olive grove and lavender.’ There was some great pitch in the nose, and the ’01 possessed more fruit than the ’02 along with more sweetness. It also had some of the length of the ’02 but was milder in that regard. Gil still found it a bit Rhonish. The palate had nice stems and was elegant, but it didn’t have the power of the ’02. There was nice cedar smack to the finish in this excellent ’01 (94).

The 2000 DRC La Tache was ‘a jar of dill pickles’ per Mr. Vegas, but it became curry in a hurry for me. Olive, dill and green bean were all in the nose. Its palate also had dill flavors, but it was fleshy and tasty, on a faster maturity track than the previous three, but there’s at least a decade or two to enjoy this vintage of LT for sure. While congenial and forward, it still had strength and ageability (93).

Mark commented on the flight that if you had these four wines served single blind, you would know which one is which, as they all classically reflected the vintage and showed each year’s typicity. Bipin hailed the ’02 as ‘a truly great wine,’ how good the 2000 and 2004 were ‘a surprise,’ and the ’01 ‘great but monolithic.’

JJ found the 1996 DRC La Tache like ‘Bordeaux.’ I found it classic ’96 – screechy with its long acid, but it also had some fatness to its fruit, decadently both purple and red. Slate, rubber tire and minerals all blended with the acid, and menthol was hidden underneath. It felt like the menthol will ultimately take over the character of this wine in time. The palate was coy, softer than I expected, still possessing length and grit with nice tannin definition, and more menthol and slate on its finish. The nose was special, but at the moment, the palate of this LT was shut down, although the wine still screams potential (94+).

The 1995 DRC La Tache had crushed red fruits and bull’s blood to its reticent nose, which was also a bit rubbery. The palate was rusty, dry and long with a serious finish, but will the fruit catch up? The 1995 rap was evident here, as someone noted, ‘just structure, really no fruit.’ Gil chipped in at the end, ‘carraway seed and Chinese black tea’ (93).

The 1991 DRC La Tache had a special nose. It had rich, concentrated and saucy fruit. Kisses of milk, vitamin, citrus, rubber, minerals and leather danced around its flashy core of sweet, pungent red fruit. The palate was delicious with great iron flavors, musk and more red fruits. It was noticeably long, and someone called it ‘superb’ (95).

The Good Doctor shared some comments with the group about the first two flights, hailing La Tache as ‘always enjoyable even though all fairly young. The ’02 stood out, and in the second flight the ’96.’

The next flight began with another comparison of La Tache and Richebourg, this time the vintage being 1989. The 1989 DRC La Tache was a Bordeaux impersonator with its open, cassisy fruit and cedar, along with a pinch of pavement. There was nice flesh to its nose as well. The palate was rich and hearty with black fruits and flavors. Very musky, the ’89 was long and had excellent acidity, very 1996 in style with all that slate and acidity. It got a little dirtier in the glass (94).

The 1989 DRC Richebourg was more classic, possessing more elegance than the LT. There were plenty of musk, earth and nut aromas balanced by rose and vitamins. There were also lots of vitamin flavors and a long finish, which was full of excellent acidity like its sibling. I liked the fruit of the Richebourg and its flavors better, but I couldn’t rate it higher than the La Tache and the LT’s impressive breed and structure. With that being said, the Richebourg was really good and a more enjoyable wine on this occasion (94).

1989 remains an interesting vintage to me, one that is quality and seemingly forgotten in the minds of many Burgundy lovers. 1988 was a vintage embraced by Parker that had the market’s hopes very high accordingly, but it soon became controversial with its big tannins and monstrous style, so there was some trepidation over embracing 1989, and then 1990 quickly overshadowed not only 1989, but them all, so to speak. It remains a year worth getting to know a little more in Burgundy.

I had saved a few sips of 2006 and 2005 Montrachet, and it was at this point that I revisited both. The ’06 opened a little but was still dusty and shy. The ’05 also gained a little more, but not much more, and the ’06 seemed to gain on it.

The 1980 DRC La Tache had a great nose, ‘so great,’ I put. It was musky, open and sexy with its strawberry fruit. There was also great earth here, and this struck me as the greatest ‘young’ vintage of La Tache to have that also shows mature qualities. It won’t get any better, but it will hold for a while, too. There were delicious flavors of menthol, tobacco, rose oil, ‘vanilla’ per Mark, and ‘mesquite’ per another (96).

The last red on this afternoon was a 1964 DRC Richebourg, which was the third time I had had this wine in six weeks. I love it when that happens. It got an ‘ok’ from the Good Doctor, and it was not as good as the other two bottles recently sampled, but still excellent. It was hearty a la ’64, with nice rose and red fruits, good dirt and earthy flavors and hints of menthol. Its tannins and acidity were first only pleasing, but soon gained in the glass, like a mini-explosion. JJ found it ‘very candied and very sweet,’ and that sweetness played into its minty, fresh and elegant style. It couldn’t quite shake its dirt clean and maintained an earthy streak (93).

We finished the afternoon with another glorious Madeira, an 1875 Barbeito Madeira Malvazia. It never ceases to amaze me how young 100+ year-old Madeira can come across. Aromas of raisin, fig, date and nut musk seeped out of the glass. This was more elegant and not as heavy as yesterday’s Madeira, medium-bodied and possessing great spice to both the nose and palate. JJ noticed its ‘oak,’ and there was this charred, wet oak quality. There were indoor screen flavors, which wasn’t a bad thing. JJ also noted ‘cinnamon’ and ‘Duncan Hines’ (93).

Day three was at Picasso’s, one of my favorite restaurants in Las Vegas. What makes Picasso’s special besides the multi-million dollar paintings by its namesake hanging all over the restaurant, is the fact that it is one of the few restaurants in Vegas where the actual chef is in the restaurant every night. It makes a difference, and Julian Serrano was in fine form as always. We got off to another good start with the 2004 DRC Montrachet, whose nose jumped off the page. It was very musky and minerally, with aromas of sweet butter, spice, nuts and more musk. The palate was smooth, balanced and long, rounded and feminine in style. Bipin admired its ‘high acidity’ and felt it had a ‘great future.’ While its nose rippled with character, the palate of the ’04 was a bit coy and still missing some weight, although I am sure it will improve with time (94+).

The 2003 DRC Montrachet had a mild nose by comparison with light yellow hues including corn and the stalk, along with a lot of slate. There were nice, round, forward flavors with some richness despite a softer and simpler overall personality. It is a good vintage of DRC Monty to drink young with its round, lush and forward style. Bipin commented on its ‘low acidity,’ and a debate emerged about its ageability, and Mark stood up for its potential, comparing it to 1976, another hot vintage (92).

The 2002 DRC Montrachet had a complex nose with more orange fruits and peel, very penetrating aromatically in a slow and seductive way. There was great nut and caramel kink here. The palate was rich, luscious and honeyed with a long finish; this was clearly outstanding stuff and carried my 2002 thesis quite admirably, that 2002 is a forgotten vintage in the context of big-time wines. Manny hailed it as ‘the most balanced’ of the three, and some secondary mango emerged, along with more butter and musk. Mark felt that each wine in the flight had its own distinctive quality, ‘the citrus minerality of ’04, the opulence of ’03, and the balance of 2002’ (95).

The next flight paired 1996 against 1995, always a fascinating comparison when you have two good bottles. The 1996 DRC Montrachet had a bit of milk and waterfall in the nose; the high acidity of the vintage stood out in the nose but in an elegant and refined way. It had a long, wintry palate that was elegant, regal and stylish. Seomone remarked how the ‘nose was more closed, but the finish explosive.’ Mark shared my opinion of the wine when he commented that it was the ‘lightest of the two but surprisingly long, although I expected more’ (94+).

The 1995 DRC Montrachet was much more honeyed and forward, with Mark noting its ‘butter.’ I could not get past its honey; it was pure honey in the nose. The palate was much richer, also woodsy, but fat, long and edgy. There were great minerals on its finish, and ‘a lot of botrytis’ per Bipin. It was exotic, like a freak show or Frankenstein, take your pick. Rich, buttery and kinky, the 1995 reminded Mark of 2005, which he found a step behind this wild and crazy 1995. While the 1995 wasn’t exactly classical, it was definitely jazzy with a lot of bass. The ’95 and ’96 were two totally different wines (95).

We said goodbye to Montrachet for the weekend with an unfortunately oxidized 1983 DRC Montrachet (DQ).

We said hello again to La Tache with a fantastic 2006 DRC La Tache. The ’06 was so fresh, brimming with crushed red fruits, stems, roses, oil, mint, black cherry and cola. It was so fragrant, with excellent richness and divine aromatic sweetness. Wow! The palate was also great, its fruit clean and natural to the core. It was similar to the nose with dominating black cherry and stem flavors, along with choice earth and great tannin expression. Traces of cinnamon sprinkled over its ‘high-toned fruit’ (Mark). Man, was that nose damn good (96).

While the 2006 set a high bar rather quickly on this Sunday afternoon, the 2005 DRC La Tache set one even higher. While it was more reserved than the ’06 at this stage, its depth in its nose was undeniable. It had aromas of earth that sparkled with diamonds, rust without the decay, and black as midnight fruit. The palate was incredibly concentrated. It was rich, beefy and stemmy, possessing so much fruit yet still coiled and deadly. Its t ‘n a squeezed my tongue like a python, and blood emerged in its bloody good nose. So fine, so rich, so long, I think profound summed it up best (98).

As if there could be another wine that could stand up to the first two in this flight, oh, that’s right, we had yet to sample the 1999 DRC La Tache. There was more elegance here but still meat on dem der bones. There were also more vitamins and cola, but some expressive black cherry as well. The palate was rich, long, elegant but fat, also showing more cola. While reserved and more backhand than forehand, the ’99 was still a winner all the way. It got more aromatic in the glass as its crushed qualities became more fragrant. Jim also noted that fact, saying that ‘the ’99 has lost its initial baby fat but is gaining in harmony,’ also finding it the most enjoyable of the three right now. Gil found the 1999 ‘woodsy, like a lukewarm sauna,’ as well as ‘crushed nutshells and cranberry red fruit,’ although he did find the ’99 closed as well. Manny called this flight one of ‘three superstars’ (97).

We traveled back in time rather quickly with our last Richebourg pairing for the weekend. The 1976 DRC Richebourg was noticeably mature with warm aromas of menthol, olive, game and ‘caramel’ per Bipin. There were also secondary aromas of garden and sweet bouillon. Its beefy, dirty flavors were browned and autumnal, with more bouillon emerging. While it only lasted about thirty minutes in the glass, it had a fleshy character and an open, spicy citricity. Someone keenly remarked how ‘sometimes it is nice to have wines where you don’t have to say it will get better’ (93).

The 1976 DRC La Tache was nutty and gamy, less pungent but with similar qualities to the Richebourg. There was more style, more elegance and more reserve here, but it was still autumnal in its personality. It was thicker and longer than the Richebourg. Both had a lot of ‘toffee’ per Bipin, and Paul chipped in how ‘both are drinking beautifully right now’ (94).

There were two wines to go in this magical weekend, and one of them was a magnum of 1972 DRC La Tache. The ’72 had a sexy nose with just a hint of that ’72 tomato. There was also sweet cherry, meat, oil, citrus, Worcestershire and chocolate. The palate was dirty even though its acidity was excellent. There were Korean barbecue flavors, a lighter mid-palate and dry tannins. The ’72, even though it was served from magnum, quickly headed south for the summer (92M).

The closer for the weekend was a fitting choice, the 1971 DRC La Tache. This wine has always been one of my all-time favorites, and it is probably the greatest wine that I have had on the most occasions, ie more than any other of the all-time greats. Bipin also shared how it was his frist great Burgundy, and that the first time this wine was even brought into California was by him! I knew there was a reason I liked it so much :). The nose creamed citrus, olives, meat, oil and spice. Admittedly, this bottle was a bit more autumnal than some of the best bottles that I have had, but the palate had great citricity and flavors of bouillon in its long and fleshy profile. There was pitch and class here, and the acidity still snapped, crackled and popped (97).

It was a great weekend, and another testament to the greatness of Domaine de la Romanee Conti, another chapter in the endless story of the greatest producer of wine on Earth.

FIN

JK

VINTAGE TASTINGS - Roaring Twenties

I interrupt my recent trip to Hong Kong for an article I started writing before I left, one that I finally finished on my way back. I still do have one article left from HK in order to wrap things up for Book 2, Chapter 4 of Hong Kong Diaries, 2009. I will try to get to that one soon, famous last words, I know.

Before I get started, I have to make a correction relative to a previous article recently written. I had mentioned the Roumier and Ponnelle connection, and that Georges Roumier had at some time made the wines for Ponnelle in the 40s or 50s. I was corrected by a close friend of Christophe Roumier’s who told me that Georges never made the wines for Ponnelle, and that they were made by Christophe’s other grandfather as his mother is a Ponnelle.

I also have to give a little grief to the Big Ticket for hosting a great 1998 Bordeaux tasting on the same night as my Roaring Twenties dinner, and only giving everyone like three day’s notice. I would have loved to be there, big guy. I think he said the Chateau Camensac was wine of the night lol.

Ok, now to our featured program, the Wine Workshop’s recent dinner at CRU, featuring a baker’s dozen of Bordeaux from the 1920s. The food was incredible as always. As fate would have it, there were a few more wines to be had, but we’ll get to that later. When it comes to claret and the 20th century, the ‘20s can certainly lay claim to ‘top decade’…as could the 40s, 50s, 80s and honorable mention to the 90s, but let’s get back to the 20s.

The first flight was a pair of wines from a vintage I don’t think I have ever sampled, 1920. When planning this event, I was surprised to find out this was a highly-regarded vintage, one known for its acidity. You just never see wines from this vintage, and the two that we sourced were kind of random, the first being a 1920 Chateau Cantemerle. The nose was great, and the wine was still fresh. Cedar, horseradish, tangy citrus and dust bowls swirled around its nose. Its nose’s greatness was seconded by many, and a kiss of woodsy rainbow rounded out the aromas. The palate was round and soft, with nice citrus and wood flavors. ‘Still hangin’ on after all these years,’ I wrote. Someone observed ‘rose garden.’ DC Don then gushed, ‘this is like having sex with a 90 year-old,’ to which I replied, ‘I’ll take your word on that’ (90).

A 1920 Baret was muddier in color, but still solid. Curious George noted ‘VA on the nose,’ meaning volatile acidity. George is definitely curious, as his love for wine takes him anywhere, anyplace he can, and he would rather try something new like these pair of 20s than things he has had two dozen times. Those who need a further clue about George think Bacchus plus Commanderie plus one of the great collections in America. Back to the, um, what’s it called, right, the Baret. Ed noted ‘vegemite,’ and there was a kiss of oxidation, but the wine wasn’t oxidized; it was the VA that George observed. The nose was open, musky and gamy, and it tasted fresh due to the high acidity. There were nice lemony flavors with pleasant dust and spice. George called the pair ‘amazing for two unclassified wines.’ Holly noted ‘morels, when you hang them up to dry for a while.’ The Cantemerle was definitely the favorite of the group, but the Baret was still solid and enjoyable (88).

The 1921 Ducru Beaucaillou had this earthy, natural gas kick, almost like popcorn. George noted, ‘aluminum shavings and green olives.’ It was very toasty with a mellow palate, soft and easy, with a mercury-like flavor on the finish, along the lines of the aluminum to which George was referring. It mellowed with air and wasn’t as toasty in time. There were smooth, green olive flavors with kisses of horseradish and citrus, and then it got this great grilled endive quality (91).

The 1924 Beychevelle was unfortunately corked, but its texture was the best of the first four. The flavors behind the corked quality were great; its fruit was deeper with nice cassis and flesh, as well as great balance (93A).

We kept progressing in time, stopping two years later with a 1926 La Mission Haut Brion. Its nose was port city, like claret meets port. Ed noted ‘celery salt,’ and someone else noted ‘vegetable juice.’ It had aromas of earth, mushroom and truffle oil. The palate was round, soft and supple with a lemony squirt and beefy flavors, flirting with bouillon. The La Miss opened and gained with time, and while a couple wrote it off immediately due to its porty nature, I found it to be excellent (93).

We had a couple of backup bottles on hand, just in case, so I felt like breaking one out to make up for the corked Beychevelle in the second flight. I can’t help myself when it comes to extra unopened bottles lying around, you know. We happened to have a 1924, too, a 1924 Sarget de Gruaud Larose. This was the second label of Gruaud, but it showed like the first. The label was scratched out and illegible, so maybe it was the Gruaud, after all. It came from the Graham Lyons cellar, and the neck tag insisted Sarget, so we will trust his impeccable records. Holly noted ‘nice structure,’ and the Curious one ‘pure definition.’ It had a classic nose full of cedar, cassis, leather and dust, and its palate was classic as well. Its palate was smooth, so elegant and refined, but it still had vim and zip, buttressed by cedar flavors. The Sarget was very stylish, like Brooke Astor with the memory (93).

The 1928 Brane Cantenac was our first reconditioned bottle of the evening, but still had a complex nose with hints of anise, cassis and nut, an almond with the skin thing. Someone noted, ‘diaper.’ It was a touch metallic in the mouth at first, with some dirty water flavors, but it still came across fresh. The nose opened to the pruney side, like raisins soaking in a jar. The palate stayed (91).

The 1928 Cos d’Estournel had a dirty nose with a touch of vegetable at first. Then it blossomed into a nice peanut character with hints of wax. Its flavors were the best of the night so far; great and classic in every way. Nut, interior, stone wall, caramel, ‘quince and persimmon’ (had to be George) were all there, and someone found it ‘fleshy like a marbled steak.’ This is what one expects out of a ’28; rich, balanced and long, it had all the components. This was one situation where ‘fat’ and ‘gains weight’ were compliments for this lingering and superb Cos (95).

Someone found the 1928 Montrose to ‘smell like Venice.’ It was earthy and full of hay, but also perfumed, reticent compared to the others. DC Don noted, ‘fonde duc, those Moroccan courtyards where they have the tanneries and hash.’ That must have been where he met that 90 year-old lol. Mike noted ‘cigar box,’ and its structure came out more with time, as did its fruit, revealing nice red cherry flavors along with great dust and length. The minerally, edgy finish had definition and true grit to it, but this was not the best bottle of this wine that I have ever had. It did continue to grow on me, however (94+).

When comparing the two St. Estephes, Holly noted that the Montrose spilled off the side of your tongue while the Cos was more upfront with its spicy and fleshy character.

The 1928 Clos Fourtet was also reconditioned, and it had forward red fruit oil aromas along with band-aids, chocolate and earth. The palate was rich and lush, hearty and with lots of acid; the motor was definitely ‘souped up.’ Someone else noted the new motor thing happening, and added ‘with the grease seepin’ out.’ Flavors of wintergreen and nice earth were present on its finish, and the sweetness in its nose became more concentrated. This was long and sexy juice, a good job on the con, I mean recon :) (93).

A rare 1928 L’Evangile had everyone serious for a Seoul second. George noted ‘liquid chocolate’ right away. This was forward, sexy stuff, super sticky, gamy, edgy and oily. The palate was rich and gamy with this rusty edge that somehow lacked rust. I noted tangy taffy flavors, Hilt did ‘brown sugar and peach cobblers,’ and the Scruffy Neurologist added ‘cinnamon butter toast.’ There was a lot going on, and a lot of sweet, complex fruit in this Evangile. Rich, long and leathery, I liked its vim but found it ultimately short of outstanding (94).

The 1928 Cheval Blanc was my favorite nose of the evening by far. Mike noted, ‘burnt rubber,’ while George ‘roasted coffee.’ George pulled the Jedi Wine trick as everyone was repeating roasted coffee almost immediately. He is a jedi, of course, so that makes that ok. The Cheval was rich and delicious with nutty and caramel flavors that lasted longly, longingly and longestly. Holly hailed it as ‘NAMMERS,’ aka indescribably delicious. It’s a down south thing, I think. George had ‘melted silk’ in his mouth, and those were not panties, I swear. He continued how the Cheval ‘clinged to all the nooks and crannies in your mouth.’ Bill hailed it as ‘a warm embrace, not a taste but a feeling.’ I gently asked him to take his head off my shoulders, and quickly moved on to find great definition; it was so long and so balanced, yet light on its feet, but rich in its flavors and still endless on its finish. George officially felt encouraged after such a special bottle (97).

A pair of ‘29s marked the last flight, beginning with the 1929 La Lagune, a bottle that was reconditioned in November of 2008. ‘Minty’ and ‘strawberry’ came from the crowd. It was a little horsey, a little gamy and a little zippy. There was a little candy store in this rich wine. There was this exotic, woodsy edge, almost like gingerbread meets teriyaki. The wine was very good, but it was a bit ‘clinical,’ as one put it, a la hospital, a function of its doctored nature, of course (92).

The last wine of our official program was a glorious bottle of 1929 Margaux, a bottle that would leave us thankful for curiosity, and continue to condition us to love those things original. David observed ‘French polish’ of antique furniture in the nose, and it was there along with mint, caraway, julep and wild field full of dandelion. The wine was incredibly sensual, caressing in its personality and fresh in its nature. George commented, ‘so Margaux, with its hint of violets.’ It was lush with great, tender fruit, and a tea-like complexity developed. It was only fitting that the one bottle from George’s cellar rounded out the night in fine fashion (95).

But the night was not over yet…

Upstairs, Big Mike had gathered with a small group of friends and family celebrating his run for governor in 2010. Either that, or he got a new puppy, I can’t remember exactly, but it was cause for celebration, and Big Boy, Airplane Eddie, Neal Diamonds, Sir Robert Bohr and others were present already, and I slipped upstairs with a bottle of 1928 Pichon Lalande, my extra backup bottle even though there was no need for it downstairs. I passed out Pichon with political fervor, making sure everyone I knew got a taste and then some. The Pichon was in a perfect spot, beautiful and graceful, timeless yet coming into its time both at once. Elegance and style married like its cassis and pencil, and its tender, sweet finish left me yearning for more (95).

Dueling jeros were next; jeros of 1971 DRC Grands Echezeaux and 1971 DRC Richebourg. Like whoaaaaa. They were both fantastic bottles, and on this night, I gave the slightest of edges to the Grands Echezeaux, and Air Jordan, the Duchess of Bohr, agreed with me. They both were long and rich; both full of tar, rose and leather; both menthol on skates…but the Grands Ech had more power and stuffing. Obviously, this is not a universal occurrence when these two are served together, especially jeros, which probably have been served together maybe once, twice, three times a lady in the course of history? Who knows, could it have been the first time ever? History check, please. Airplane Eddie found the Richebourg ‘cleaner.’ I found it (95J) and the Grands Ech (96J).

There were two magnums of 1999 Roulot Meursault Perrieres served, and I got to try from both. The first was decanted two hours prior and was quite clean with yellow fruits and light toast (93M), while the second one, opened much more recently, had more character. It was richer, larger and a butter bomb in that elegant Burgundy way. I guess time doesn’t always do a white Burgundy good (94M).

A jero of 1988 Bollinger RD was very good; lemony, bready, yeasty, zesty, zippy and clean, it was nice but a touch simple as RD’s can be (92J).

There was some Giacosa wine served at the end, and it was outstanding stuff, but I didn’t quite write down the right stuff enough. I will dig further, and save those notes for when I can identify the Unidentifiable Giacosa Object. For now, it goes into the bucket with the hundreds of other nights, the ‘never got written’ bin, the ‘put me in coach’ basin, the ‘if only writing this stuff created income’ box lol.

The great thing about Bordeaux is its age-ability and the fact that it is about the only thing left from the ‘20s that can still roar. This night was a true testament to the ‘tough as nails’ x-factor that makes Bordeaux so great, and cheers to Big Mike for providing the hammer to close out this magical evening in the finest of fashions.

FIN

JK

VINTAGE TASTINGS - Hong Kong Diaries 2009, BYO

Last night saw sixty of Hong Kong’s finest collectors gather in a celebration of fine and rare wines, BYO style. This was a first for most of the guests and a new concept; one could tell that everyone wasn’t really sure what to expect at first, but once everyone settled in and got some ground rules, a great time and some great wines were had by all.

The rules for a good BYO are simple: 1) get a list of what everyone is bringing in advance; 2) seat everyone together based on said wines; 3) encourage everyone to pour out half of their bottle at their table and then trade with other tables the rest of the bottle; 4) remind everyone not to grab other people’s bottles without asking :)

I found myself surrounded by some of the world’s greatest wines early on, and made sure I got to know them before sampling some of the rest of the room’s selections. I also made sure to make my rounds of giving before I made my rounds of receiving, always a good BYO host rule of thumb.

The night got off to a great start with a 1986 DRC Montrachet. What was even more special is that it came from a parcel of ten cases purchased twenty years ago! About five are left. Taiwan was in the house, and many thanks to my good friend for his generosity, and everyone’s for that matter. The nose was fabulous in an ’86 way – sweet and buttery with lots of wild corn and clear botrytis. There was a little waterfall edge and a touch of benevolent alley. Its flavors were similar, adding some light cement and a bit of butter that has been out on a hot summer day all afternoon. Kisses of caramel rounded out the flavor profile along with game and candle wax, and the acidity was superb and the best ’86 impression that I have had in a while. It is always a good thing to have those unmoved, purchased upon release bottles (95).

The only other white at my table was a 1992 Ramonet Batard Montrachet. While 1992 is a vintage that is starting to pass its prime for many white Burgundies, this Ramonet was still far from maturity. I don’t know what he did in 1992 that makes his wines stand out so much from the rest of the pack (with Leflaive right behind it), but the acidity in the 1992 Batard was mind-blowing. It was as fresh as fresh can be, taut, minerally and zippy with incredible white fruit flavors and an endless finish. Smoke and minerals were everywhere; this was a fiery wine that could burn down any wine lover’s palate (95+).

A rare 1961 Latour Haut Brion was excellent, full of gravel, smoke, slate and dirt, slowly revealing a bit of a BBQ edge. There was lots of cement to the palate, and black fruits emerged in time. Samantha noted ‘hickory,’ and someone else ‘high acidity.’ There were still lots of tannins and life left in this ’61 (93).

That red was a warm-up, as we got very serious, very quickly, beginning with the 1989 Petrus. A 1990 would follow, as would a 1990 Le Pin. Now that’s a flight! The ’89 was spectacular and the wine of the night. It had a big, bold nose with lots of t ‘n a, chocolate, earth and black and purple fruits. It was so thick yet so fine. The palate was insanely good, so chocolaty and thick, absolutely delicious. Hendra also commented, ‘more chocolaty and hot.’ This is a staggering wine and a great time to be buying it since the price has practically dropped in half over the past year (99).

I know that the 1989 versus 1990 Petrus is supposed to be a great debate, but to be honest, it isn’t even close. The 1990 Petrus was still an outstanding wine, but the ’89 has just clearly distanced itself from the ’90. The ’90 was minty with a fleshier nose, possessing more red fruits and green olives. It was a bit milkshaky, with secondary aromas of grain and bran. Its flavors were more yeasty, and the palate was still long and elegant, but it left a little sister impression after the 1989 (95).

The 1990 Le Pin was very fragrant in an aggressive way. Aromas of green bean combined with wild, exotic tropical fruits into a unique and ‘sexy’ style. The palate was very shut down at the moment for me, and although it rounded out, it left me with a mellow, soft, tender and easy impression, which was not the case the last time I had this wine late last year, when I rated it 96 points. This bottle needed more time, and will surely get better (94+).

The 1982 Lafleur had a rich, creamy and sexy nose in that kinky Lafleur way. Aromas of coconut, green olives and a rainbow of black, purple and red fruits rounded out the nose, although there was more structure here than other memories that I have of this wine, which can often be super fleshy and wide open. This one still had a long way to go. Hendra hailed it as ‘all seasons – any place, any time’ (97).

The last couple of bottles I had at my table were Burgundies, beginning with a 1999 DRC Richebourg. 1999 plus DRC always equals greatness. Aubert de Villaine and company really hit the bullseye in 1999. The Richebourg’s nose was fleshy, young and zippy, full of violets, lavender and minerals with the encrusted diamonds. The nose was super sexy, oily and ‘just like the 1990,’ per one who would know. The 1990 has a little more power at this stage I think, but the 1999 is even more seductive (97).

Last but not least before I ventured out into the room to receive was a 1990 Ponsot Clos de la Roche Vieilles Vignes. The Ponsot was a bit milky and yeasty at first, but it blew off into a powerful concoction of menthol, oil, black fruits and yeast without the milk. Its flavors were distinctively black; olives and fruits. It left a midnight impression, lingering on its long and thick finish, which was both slaty and edgy. Concentration was king for this 1990 (97).

The rest of the night was a bit of rapid fire, but all friendly fire thankfully. Forgive the lack of notes, but with a tasting in three hours and the seating for tomorrow’s auction still to be finished, I will have to defer my observations until the next article – I will get to them, I promise! It will be a few paragraphs of recapping, as snapshots were really all that could be taken at this time. Look for a more detailed recap of the rest of the wines in my next article. For now, the scores…

1989 Cheval Blanc (94)
2003 Haut Brion (92J)
1983 Billecart Salmon Blanc de Blancs (94)
1997 Leroy Clos de la Roche (92)
1996 Sauzet Bienvenues Batard Montrachet (92)
1999 Niellon Chevalier Montrachet (94)
1994 Latour (93)
1971 Faiveley Clos de la Roche (93)
1996 Margaux (96)
1996 DRC Romanee St. Vivant (94)
1986 Lafite Rothschild (96)
2000 L’Evangile (95)
1994 Cheval Blanc (92)
1995 Rousseau Gevrey Chambertin Clos St. Jacques (92)
1999 Claude Dugat Charmes Chambertin (94)
1990 La Conseillante (95)
1978 Leroy Beaune (91)
1990 Haut Brion (95M)
1982 L’Evangile (94)
1983 Lafleur (94-95)
1995 Leoville Las Cases (93)
1975 Latour (94)
2001 Shafer Hillside Select (93)

The great thing about a BYO is the diversity of wines and the sheer spontaneity of it all. It was a great assortment of great wines, and most importantly, a great mix of people. I look forward to the next one!

FIN

JK