Friends and Family

Posted on | April 2, 2011 | 1 Comment

I love wine. I love to taste wine, many different wines, on a regular basis in what some might call a punishing fashion. It just so happens I am friends with The Punisher, which reminds me that while tasting can be done with anyone and everyone, drinking can only be done with friends. When I think about friends within the Acker family, there are some that always come to mind immediately. It just so happens I had the good fortune of seeing many of them over the past couple weeks. Being in New York a month straight may be a foreign concept to me, but it has also proven to be quite rewarding.

Tuesday night Poker chez Big Boy proved to be a win-lose scenario, thanks to a couple of unfriendly rivers. Of course, one of them happened to be Big Boy’s, cracking my straight with a full house after I played him perfectly and had his three-of-a-kind dominated. That one hurt me the most. The ten-minute lecture about how he was the greatest poker player in the world didn’t exactly console me, something along the lines of why he was the King of the Business. I had to go to the shades after that, to which Patman quipped, ‘What’s up with the shades, Kapon? In a few minutes, I’m gonna look over there and see you with a Full-Tilt Poker shirt on next?’ LOL. Funny guys, these poker sharks.

Fortunately, I got to drown my sorrows with wines from the world’s most generous collector, putting the win back in front of my mounting losses.

I grabbed a 1988 Krug out of the cellar when I could have grabbed anything; perhaps I was too gentlemanly, but chivalry still does exist for some when in others’ cellars. I figured we’d ease into the evening with some bubbly, a general game plan if there ever were one. The Krug was big, bold, beefy and butterscotchy, quite dry, but even more so quite full. It was a big, classic Krug that could use another decade still before really getting to know better (95).

A rare bottle of 1962 Comte Armand Pommard Clos des Epeneaux was up next, and was gamy and forward, a bit stewed. Aromas of grape leaves and pungent fruit graced its nose, while its palate showed off round, rich, soft and gamy qualities. ‘Big Boy found it, ‘pretty but not substantial.’ I think the bottle wasn’t perfect, although it did have a nice body, as did the dealer. It was a Big Boy production so I expected nothing less, and the Gonzagas on our dealer would have made any UCLA Bruin blush (93A).

A magnum of 1962 Grivot Vosne Romanee Beauxmonts had a sweet, foresty nose on the blacker side of berries, with some stalks thrown in. It was super musky, with oats and a brown mesquite glaze. The palate was rich and hearty and had a big, fortified feel, with lots of muscle and brown sugar. Rob was commenting how well this wine went with the flavor of his smoke, an unlit cigar, of course (91M).

We changed gears to a 1978 Ponsot Clos de la Roche. The nose was a bit musty at first, earthy but reticent, not yielding much. The palate was the exact opposite, offering up a rich, fleshy and seductive mouthful of a wine. It was lush and oily in a gritty way with a thick finish. The finish was really long, impressively so, and this big, muscular Ponsot was quite tasty in an earthy way. When Ponsot hits the bullseye, it is as good as anything else, although inconsistency still plagues this great Domaine (95+).

‘Petrus or Lafleur?’ I was asked, to which I would always reply the same thing, ‘Petrus.’ No offense to the incredible Lafleur, but I’m a Petrus boy, what can I say. A magnum of 1953 Petrus reminded me why I made that decision without hesitation. This was a spectacular wine from the very first sniff. The nose was fabulous, perfect old Petrus. Plum, olive, earth and iron all danced like white and black swans so happy together. Pat noted, ‘the good part of the banana peel.’ The wine had deep and rich fruit that was dripping everywhere, both aromatically and on the palate. The wine was lush, meaty and nutty, still round with a tight chalkiness, nonetheless. We guessed how many magnums of 1953 Petrus remain in the world today, and Big Boy conservatively guessed three to six, while I said less than twenty. I couldn’t stop drinking this wine, it was just so delicious and just right out of magnum right now (96M).

A 1966 Rayas was an unusual move for Rob, but a welcome one. Old Rayas and Beaucastel can thrill as much as any Bordeaux or Burgundy, and this Rayas showed why. The nose was ripe, rich and spicy, full of strawberries and a pinch of rhubarb. It got saucier in the glass and started to emit complex nut oil aromas. The palate was also rich and spicy, although more hearty and jammy than the nose. There were thick, ceramic walls encasing the wine. Big Boy hailed it as ‘the purest Chateauneuf I have ever had.’ Of course, it was probably only his fourth . Its long, thick finish held the wine together well in the glass, and its fruit stayed saucy in this sexy red (96).

The last wine on this already historical evening made it officially historical, as it was a 1962 Rousseau Chambertin Clos de Beze. Its spectacular nose was super rich and the concentrated essence of great Pinot Noir. There was almost ‘ridiculous’ richness, and this was one 1962 that certainly was not riding off into the sunset ever so slowly, as many are. This was a perfect specimen for 1962, with its fresh fruit, oil, tomato and hints of bouillon. There are only three wines that have energy like this, Vogue Musigny, La Tache and RC. And on that note, it was time to say good night (97).

And on the next day, it was time to say hello again, this time to a King and his merry men at Del Posto, for a semi-regular gathering. Too bad I showed up at Marea. Fortunately, I was only fifteen minutes delayed, and quickly caught up to a bevy of beauties, the Champagne, that is. While Big Boy may open up more wine than anyone in the world today based on a criteria of value, King Angry certainly tastes more wines on a regular basis than anyone I know, well with the exception of one handsome and dashing young Acker wine auctioneer .

I caught up quickly on the first flight of Champagnes. In true royal fashion, one Champagne is never enough for the King, so we had five. Technically, the welcome wine was a magnum of 1970 Moet, which almost stole the show. It had a delicious nose that hinted at its more distinguished sibling, Dom Perignon. Musky and smoky, its rich nose was full of bread and oil, and the palate was delicious. While big and brawny, it was quite tasty, and a delicious vanilla flavor profile developed, along with a honeyed nose. Earth and broth kept everything in balance in this decadently friendly bubbly, quite a good show for a 1970 (94M).

A trio of Oenotheques followed from the actual Dom Perignon, beginning with the 1964 Dom Perignon Oenotheque (disgorged in 1999). The ’64 had a sugary nose, like a hard brittle made from hand-poured caramel. Its palate was clean, ‘it has the Oeno palate,’ I wrote, with its lightly sweet personality and traces of citrus, straw and hay. It was classy, and JP noted ‘honey’ (94).

The 1975 Dom Perignon Oenotheque (disgorged in 2007) started more slowly out of the gate, but it finished the strongest, no doubt assisted by the most recent disgorgement date. Its nose was bigger, full of grass and noticeable lime. The palate was big and aggressive, although at first it tasted a touch bitter and too young. It continued to put on weight and got bigger in the glass, and although I preferred the initial style of the 1964 better, both that and the following 1976 eventually fell back in the glass while the 1975 got better and better. The honey of the 1964 became ‘honeysuckle’ for the 1975 for JP, and someone likened the 1964 to a female, and the 1975 to a male accordingly (95+).

The 1976 Dom Perignon Oenotheque (disgorged in 2003) had a wheatier nose with a hint of soup, but the signature sugar came out slowly. The palate had a decent initial attack but was ultimately lighter and softer, quite tangy as well (93).

The Oenotheque program is a fairly new one for Dom Perignon, and they seem quite content to charge significantly higher prices for these late releases direct from the Domaine. Time will tell whether or not the Oenos can age like original releases; I, for one, would always prefer an original release to any wine tinkered, touched up, redone, fixed, enhanced or whatever adjective any given doctor might prescribe to this condition, like another might describe a new set of breasts. I will say that the Oenotheques are certainly quality, but I do taste the style of Oeno over the style of any given vintage. You’ll have to make your own decisions from here. One thing for sure, a bottle of Oeno will always show well, unless it went through some horror story shipment.

An Italian two-step led us into the reds, beginning with a gorgeous 1970 Giacosa Barbaresco Montefico. Its nose was delightfully complex and open, with classic Italian cigar, earth and tobacco leaf, along with chocolate and tar. There was bright cherry fruit behind it, so much so that it flirted with Burgundy with its soft, tender personality. The wine was as delicious on the palate as it was on the nose, delivering earthy and nutty flavors in tasty, fine fashion. It ultimately won the first King Angry Miss Congeniality Award, and the King is tough to please (95).

A 1971 Gaja Barbaresco Sori Tilden was poo-pooed at first, but I liked its nose right away. It was more soupy than the Giacosa, not as fresh and clean, with some winter vegetable action as well. There was lots of mushroom to its palate, more flesh and a lush and tasty overall personality (93).

Ahhhhh, Burgundy. The 1985 DRC Echezeaux oozed wet earth, truffles, fungus, tobacco and sweet cherry in a pungent way. The palate was thinner than the nose led me to believe and had some body odor issues (92).

The 1985 DRC Romanee St. Vivant was clearly a sibling of the Echezeaux, with a purer nose. There was more coffee to its nose, along with fresh red fruits and rainwater. Its palate was soft and beautiful, tender with its round and deceptively long personality. It got a bit dry over time in the glass, a knock on ’85 DRCs for some, but not a problem for me, usually (94).

We were back to Italy with a pair of ‘82s, again led into the flight by a Giacosa, this time a 1982 Giacosa Barbaresco Santo Stefano Riserva. Its darker, deeper nose had brown sugared fruit, flirting with a Port meets Tokaji experiment. There were tar and leather flavors and a zippy finish, but this bottle was clearly affected and not at its best (91A).

The 1982 Giacomo Conterno Barolo Monfortino Riserva was much fresher, with tar and anise laying their claim to its aromatic profile first and foremost, so much so that hairs felt raised on the back of my neck. The palate was similar, with some leather thrown in for spanks and giggles, and its long acidity summed up this youthful and hesitant wine with one word – regal (95).

A pair of Guigals rounded out our evening, beginning with a special 1985 Guigal Cote Rotie La Mouline. Beef, blood, oak, menthol, black fruits and olives were all in its layered and complex nose. Its earthy palate was long and zippy full of minerals and menthol as well. It clearly had the most material of all of the above, with plenty still to unveil (97).

The 1988 Guigal Cote Rotie La Turque had a much oakier nose with lots of pepper. Black fruits and oil permeated the nose and mouth, and while it was thick and long, the La Mouline absolutely ‘pancaked’ the La Turque. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the opposite happen. Long live La Mouline (93).

A week or so later, I found myself at Veritas, circumstantially there the same night it received three stars from the New York Times. Since I don’t review food, I’ll leave that up to you to decide, but I will say that the wine list is still going strong, alive and kicking, with a phenomenal selection that’s still priced incredibly fairly. The Hedonist and I gathered for a long overdue dinner where we happily plundered the list for one, two, three times a lady. I was looking for lightning to strike twice when I selected a 1996 D’Auvenay Chevalier Montrachet first. The price was right, and it had been one of the best white wines I ever had when I drank it chez Imperial Cellar a year or so ago. This bottle wasn’t perfect like that one, but it was still outstanding. The wine was still big and rich with amazing density, although a touch sweet and advanced. It was still a mammoth, but clearly had matured faster for whatever reasons. Being the gentlemen that we are, we drank the whole thing (95A).

Jay wisely selected a 1993 Rousseau Gevrey Chambertin Clos St. Jacques. It was class in a glass and absolutely delicious. It was full but elegant with great fruit – black, red and purple were all there. Forest, earth, minerals all played their supporting roles perfectly in this superbly sippable wine. I could drink Rousseau’s Clos St. Jacques every day, it’s basically Chambertin gone wild, in that hot, feminine way (96).

Jay was all over a 1993 Bachelet Charmes next, but I talked him into a 2002 Meo-Camuzet Vosne Romanee Cros Parantoux. I have had a recent hardon for 2002, finding the wines to be in a great spot right now, and the vintage to be the forgotten great vintage lost between 1999 and 2005…and Cros Parantoux, how could one go wrong? Well, I forgot the wines of Meo tend to be very unyielding in their youth, and this was certainly no exception. While tighter than a nun’s knees, the Meo slowly uncoiled aromatically and majestically. The nose had so much going on, it was just seven levels down below, and concentration was required. The palate was lean and tight, but the wine’s aromas still seduced. To be continued (93+).

The last evening of my friends and family plan took me to a familiar place, a place not so far away and very close to my heart, chez The Don, the king of all things Burgundy. There isn’t a better cellar, or a better dinner companion than The Don. With the Inspector and Mr. K also on hand, everything was set for a fine evening of food, friends and fine wine. It doesn’t get any better.

The weather was starting to cooperate in Spring-like fashion, so we started with a couple of Raveneaus on the patio. I caught the tail end of a disappointing and perplexing 1996 Raveneau Montee de Tonnerre . I love this bottling and vintage from Raveneau, but this bottle seemed confused, lacking a centerpoint. It wasn’t oxidized or cooked or corked, but it wasn’t what it should have been. It was a touch oaky, lacking definition (85?).

We soon forgot the mystery of the Montee de Tonnerre thanks to an excellent 1996 Raveneau Chablis Valmur. ‘It’s screaming oyster shells and minerals,’ Mr. K keenly observed. There was also wet earth, damp towel and yellow citrus, with just a touch of tropical in there. Everything in this wine was lightly positioned, coming together quite well. Its palate was clean and fresh, with those oyster shells taking center stage amidst other flavors similar to its aromas. This was a smooth and steady Chablis, but I was looking for a bit more oomph given the vintage’s reputation (93).

I found just that in a 1996 Roulot Meursault Perrieres. It had a fantastic, fat, buttery nose with great toast to spread it on. The mouthfeel was rich, big and lush, classy yet oily. It had the perfect amount of toast to its palate, putting the wet in the kiss in which it was framed. Decadently drinkable, this was a wine that puts the wow into white Burgundy (95+).

We sat down to dinner with a 1985 Bachelet Charmes Chambertin Vieilles Vignes. It was a nice ‘starter’ wine. I couldn’t help but think again how I was supposed to have the 1993 a night ago! The Bachelet had a beautiful, deep, dark and chunky nose with hints of satay to go with its garden and fruits, which were black and purple. Someone admired its ‘wonderful purity.’ Vitamins and musk joined the party, and Mr. K commented how it was ‘all crushed berries.’ It was quite fruity in the mouth, and this pie of a palate had a dirty slice to it, as mushroom and dill crept in. All in all, it was a smooth and balanced wine, typical of 1985 in that regard, although there was a touch of atypical to it in regard to Burgundy (93).

The night’s featured attraction was a flight of four 1949s, all Chambertin in one form or another. We began with a 1949 Faiveley Mazis Chambertin. The nose had an old, oaty (yes, oaty), earthy, old school Faiveley style, sprinkled with lots of citrus dust. There was a little VA on the nose per the Inspector, like brown sugar meeting a barnyard feeding bag, if that makes sense. The wine was polished and fine in the mouth, mature but still on the tail end of a plateau. There were lots of vegetable flavors along with some game and meat, but the animal qualities were the side dishes. A hint of celery snuck in there to go with its soupy, bouillon flavors (91).

The 1949 Morin Chambertin actually stole the show in the flight. Its nose was much fresher and redder than the Mazis, with more sugar sprinkled about. It smelled almost buttery, flirting with a BBQ kinkiness at times. The palate was soft, tender and tasty with a nice finish and some tongue-twisting tension left that was light yet firm. The acidity seemed to gain in the glass, and the Morin provided a pleasant and unexpected ‘wow’ factor (94).

We had another Faiveley, this time a 1949 Faiveley Chambertin Conferie des Chevaliers du Tasteduvin bottling. Unfortunately, this bottle was more Madeira than red, definitely oxidized although arguably drinkable (DQ).

We finished the flight as we should, with a 1949 Leroy Chambertin. Again, there was a celery component in the nose, although with this Leroy, it came first not later. There was a lot of stalk and veggie in the nose, but the palate had more rose to its flavors, with nice citrus overtones. It was a classic 1949, tender and pleasant, silky and soft, and with time became more exotic, offering fruit tea flavors and aromas that flirted with apricot. The Inspector kept inquiring what vintage everyone thought it was, refusing to close the case. The wine was graceful and elegant, but I wanted more (92).

And more we did get, in the form of a 1990 Chave Ermitage Cuvee Cathelin. Mr. K was already setting the table with ‘one of the all-time greats, on a par with Roumier Musigny and Jayer.’ The Inspector was already sulking now that Burgundy had left the building, but he pulled himself together to observe ‘root beer float.’ I got the whole ice cream sundae thing, along with a kick of gas. The palate was thick like an oil slick full of black fruit and asphalt flavors, quite velvety on its finish with kisses of menthol. Mike came in with ‘young puppy breath,’ and I saw what he was saying. There was a lot of animalistic edges to this big-time wine (95).

There have been many other wines and nights this year, none greater in breadth and scope than La Paulee. Come to think of it, I never wrote up last year either. Stay tuned.

55 from ’55

Posted on | March 28, 2010 | No Comments

2010 has been a vintage year so far, not only for the wine market, but also for my liver. I have been fortunate to taste an incredible amount of great wines in the first two months of 2010, although I have only reported on my January trip to Hong Kong. Well, little ol’ New York still has plenty to say…and drink.

There are over a dozen great events that I want to write up, so I kind of picked one out of a hat and was instantly taken back to two glorious, consecutive nights celebrating the Hedonist’s 55th birthday. The first night was at Cru; I wasn’t technically at the dinner party downstairs in the private room, but since I was dining upstairs, there was some positive wine synergy occurring once we knew we were both there.

The Hedonist beat us to the punch by sending us up a couple of glasses of 1955 Bouchard Pere et Fils Corton Charlemagne. It smelled like old Chardonnay for sure, but still came across fresh. Aussie Adam cooed, ‘beautiful nose.’ Its nose was warm and mature, emitting rays of yellow sunshine, rainwater and a hint of yellow prune. Cobwebs glistening in due rounded out is nose. Its palate was smooth and satiny, possessing yeasty flavors and a tender finish (93).

I actually met Adam in Seoul, where he became my official tour guide when I made my first visit back in August of 2007. It was quite the evening; basically the first night prevented a second night from even happening. I believe the phrase ‘no mas’ applied. So when Adam told me he was in NYC, I had to return the favor, although just with dinner. We settled on a 1996 Roulot Meursault Perrieres to start, which just popped out the glass. There was great minerality to its nose, along with citrus, wax, and kernel. Adam found its nose, ‘classic Meursault.’ There were great smoke flavors, and its minerality kept flexing on the palate, as if it were doing reps on my tongue. It was absolutely gorgeous; I could not stop drinking it. It was a sensational wine from a sensational vintage for white Burgundy. Adam summed it up, ‘voluptuous nose, beautiful palate, elegant and fresh’ (96).

What was this, a glass of 1955 Latour a Pomerol, out of double magnum, nonetheless. Yes, they do exist, although after this night, maybe they don’t anymore! The Hedonist had blessed us again. Sir Robert noted, ‘wet, stony, leafy, almost Graves,’ but its core of plummy fruit and chocolate could only be Pomerol. Of course, Sir Robert’s observations were spot on, as always, and it did have these leafy and stony undertones, in a good way. Its palate was masculine, but its finish was feminine. ‘Gorgeous’ kept coming up in my notes, and its soft, chalky and long finish never lost sight of its decadent plum and chocolate core. Did I say gorgeous (95D)?

We started feeling frisky, and we wanted to reciprocate, so I selected one of my favorite, all-time wines, the 1985 Meo Camuzet Richebourg. This is a wine that would be on my top 100 of all-time, and after not having it for at least three or four years, it was good to see it still showing incredibly. Of course, Henri Jayer had his hand in the ’85 Meo, and many feel that Henri was the greatest winemaker ever in Burgundy. Consider the ’85 Meo Riche ‘Exhibit A.’ It had a ‘wow’ nose, layers upon layers cascading up into my nose. I literally felt like I was swimming in it. Pick a fruit, any fruit, as they were all seemingly there – red, purple, black and blue danced together freely, transporting us to a shiny, happy place, a veritable Woodstock for wine. Adam hailed it as ‘intoxicating,’ and ‘miles ahead of DRC in 1985.’ Hey, he said it, not me! But, he was right, not to take away from the DRC Riche, in and of itself a great wine, but the 1985 Meo Richebourg is just one of those wines that is one step beyond the rest. Incredibly complex, there was this magnificent floral component, along with distinctive and sexy Asian spices, an ocean of fruit, and even some morning fog. Smelling it was like looking out on a horizon of wine, endless in its possibilities and promise. Adam noted, ‘sap and pine tar, menthol and spring forest.’ All I could then see were naked nymphs. Adam cooed, ‘the whole world stops for a great bottle of Burgundy; armies could march past me right now, and I would still be sitting here.’ Here, here. No, seriously, here, give me the rest of your ’85 Meo; it was actually a wine over which wars are started (98)!

Jay had one more ’55 up his sleeve, a 1955 Figeac, another one of my favorite things. There is not a more underrated, under-appreciated property in all of Bordeaux. In the face of all these ‘garage’ wines getting so much acclaim, Figeac remains a beacon for classic winemaking. I’ll keep the Figeac in the cellar, all those other wines can stay in the garage . Figeac does need more time to age and blossom than most St. Emilions; perhaps that is where its secrets lie. This Figeac didn’t have that problem even though it was served out of magnum since its vintage was ’55. The nose was blacker than I expected out of magnum, possessing black fruits, olives, forest and mint. It was so rounded, and so good. Flavors of olive, cherry oil, musk and hints of nuts graced its palate. Jay also had a bottle of the same wine, which was redder in its fruit and riper in its personality, although a touch more linear as well. Qualitatively, they were consistent. In the end and after time in the glass, it actually out-showed the Latour a Pomerol (95+M).

That was much more than I expected on this wintry evening. The next night was actually the main event, and Hollywood Jef had even flown in to help with the celebration. He was armed with a few bottles of DRC Montrachet, so we surrendered quickly, beginning with a 1989 DRC Montrachet. The ’89 had a warm, inviting nose of corn, light sweetness, butter and hints of orange and citrus spice. Its palate was round and smooth with light flavors of butter and minerals, lighter than one would expect from an ’89 Montrachet. It was a good vintage to start the vertical with accordingly. Those that know this wine know that ’89 was a bit of a disappointment for DRC relative to its usual quality. Don’t get me wrong, it was still an excellent wine. A hint of that tropical DRC kink developed, and while the wine was soft and polished, its acidity crept out more. It was almost latent, getting bigger in the glass but also a touch square. Lora, a former food editor and avid taster, found it, ‘elegant and perfect’ (93).

The 1991 DRC Montrachet that followed had more exotic sweetness and lots of caramel. The Hedonist hailed it, ‘a different beast.’ Its color was much deeper, on a faster maturity track. Its nose was musky, and Lora found it ‘luscious.’ It was earthier and heartier than the ’89, quite rich in its personality, which also had more veggie flavors, in a good way, further flirting with bouillon. While a little wild and rugged, the 1991 was an excellent, mature DRC Monty, qualitatively equal although stylistically different to the ’89 (93).

The 1979 DRC Montrachet made us quickly forget about the previous two wines. It was a staggering example of great white Burgundy. The nose was so musky and nutty but deep, very deep, super sexy juice. There were exotic fruits abounding in the nose, hinting at guava without the sweetness, along with orange and other tropical impressions. Icicles also came to mind in its piercing and riveting nose. The palate was incredibly rich with insane depth. There were decadent coffee flavors and perfect sweetness; the marriage of musk and caramel was made in heaven, and the lobster risotto that followed took it up a notch. Amazing wine (98).

It was a tough act for the 1993 DRC Montrachet to follow. Ron called out ‘bubblegum,’ while the Hedonist observed ‘odd fruit, more pear than Chardonnay, really.’ It was total pear, and after the comment, that’s all I could smell. It had a hint of liqueur, and while smooth and solid, it was no match for the ’79. I really like 1993 whites, although this one was less than I hoped it would be (92).

It was onto the reds, and some more ‘55s. The 1955 Haut Brion was all gravel, smoke and charcoal in its nose. It also had lots of band-aids, showing its back-sided qualities instead of its fruit. Laura observed, ‘smoky cinder box.’ The HB still had fruit in the mouth and enough cassis to build a bridge to its back side. Soft and fleshy, it was an outstanding HB (95).
It was paired, of course, with the 1955 La Mission Haut Brion. ‘Both are very good and as expected,’ the Hedonist asserted. The La Miss was deeper with more purple to its fruit, along with more spice and less gravel, also smoky but in a white direction. Jef found it ‘a little austere’ at first, and it was shy on the palate. Its treasures were more hidden in a brooding way, and it was clear that it had a longer life ahead of it than the HB. With that being said, it wasn’t in as giving a mood as other bottles I have had (95+).

The next flight was a celebrity death match – 1982 Lafleur vs. 1990 La Tache, a wine equivalent of King Kong vs. Godzilla. For those of you that forget or may not know, a celebrity death match is where you taste two totally random wines from different regions against each other; in fact, I have a whole article coming up dedicated just to the concept. But I digress…

The 1982 Lafleur was a great bottle, kinky from the get-go. Of course, the Hedonist hailed it as ‘one of the greatest Bordeaux ever,’ as ’82 Lafleur has long been hailed as one of the most hedonistic wines ever made. Its nose was chocolaty and smoky, brimming with blue fruits. The palate was rich with a small spike of alcoholic power, along with benevolent flavors of stems and stalks. While tighter than I remember the wine being, which bodes well for the future, it still had that gamy, sweet fruit, that mature Lafleur mega-fruit rainbow spectrum. Its acidity and alcohol stood out from the crowd, and Jef noted, ‘licorice and lavender.’ This wine was poised and still ready for a long run (97).

The 1990 DRC La Tache had a deeper and more expansive nose, very Sequoia-esque with its forest, garden, mushrooms and stalk. This was a great bottle of 1990, and it was ‘singing’ to Lora. The wood elements were noticeable but not offensive, and while the Lafleur was admittedly more enjoyable, the La Tache was the better wine, but the room was split down the middle, with three votes on each side. The texture, weight and length of the La Tache, though, was undeniable to me (98).

We brought things full circle with a 1997 DRC Montrachet. The first thing that I thought was that this was the second-best Montrachet of the night, and it was. There was force in its nose, which was rippling with minerals, and plenty of citrus to back that thing up. This was a powerful Montrachet, and while there was a hint of botrytis, it was deliciously there, and the 1997 was long and racy without the race track. It stood up to the two incredible reds served beforehand (95).

There were six of us, and nine wines were down the hatch already, but somehow, there were actually three more wines served on this starry night. My notes were not so starry by this point, as I was definitely drinking to the last drop all night long with this lineup. A 1959 Latour was chalky, smoky and slaty, polished but not perfect, and a bit disappointing (93A). A 1955 Latour made up for it with its sweet fruit and what I called ‘A to Z greatness’ (95). A perfect 1955 Yquem rounded things out in fine fashion, just as it oughta be and then some (96+).

It was a stellar birthday celebration, a definite Hedonist production. There is one thing that I have learned over the years, a fact reinforced by this incredible night. Life is short, drink it.

FIN

JK

Hong Kong Killers

Posted on | February 22, 2010 | No Comments

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)
Mouton (53 votes)
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

Vintage Tastings – ’24 hours’

Posted on | February 18, 2010 | No Comments

Recently, I spent 24 hours in Bordeaux, swooping in like agent Jack XXXXXXXX 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.

John Kapon

Monday Night Football

Posted on | December 18, 2009 | No Comments

I’m staying current for a hot second, as this past Monday night had me at Marea with some of the Angries for a most noteworthy evening, even though it was under the guise of a casual get together. Wine’s original Bad Boy aka the Returner aka the Warden aakkaa was holding court with some bubblies, and he had some great Champagne on tap as well. He was joined by another enforcer extraordinaire, the Hillbilly, and even Big Boy came out of the woodworks of fatherhood to share in the festivities.

I was only passing through, but it was tough to stay on schedule as great wine after great wine emerged. It started with a killer 1982 Cristal. The nose was honeyed and butterscotchy, showered in golden toast. There were lots of yellow aromas and buttery cream ones, and its caramel glaze (again, with a yellow hue) soothed my senses. The palate was fresh and smooth, right down the middle like a 95 mph fastball. There was nice zip and vim, and a long, grainy, spritely finish. It was just flat out delicious (96).

The 1989 Cristal Rose with which it was paired was a bit oxidative in the nose. There were aromas of faded strawberry and a hint of wet wool. The palate was very citrusy and metally without being metallic, something Todd picked up on as well, also calling it ‘salty.’ There were tangy red fruit flavors on its gamy palate; Big Boy called it ‘stewy,’ and it was clear that it was oxidized. I could have still drunk it and probably would have on another night, but with the punches rolling, we let it go (91A).

It was on to the DP’s, beginning with a 1964 Dom Perignon. Todd jumped on ‘oatmeal’ right away. I saw that but found it more stony in the nose at first. Bruce chipped in how ‘it needs a little time to get integrated,’ and how he hates popping and pouring old Champers right away. Big Boy admired its ‘mature’ qualities, and with a little time, exotic aromas of coconut, cream soda, vanilla wafer and milk candy emerged. It was very complex once the stone walls came down around it, just as the Returner had prophecized. Delicious flavors of vanilla and cream soda danced on its long and lush palate. It was both delicate yet sturdy, ie, it didn’t have a lot of fizz but there was just enough to make it outstanding. It was another delicious wine (95).

The 1973 Dom Perignon was ‘too cold,’ per the Warden, who was annoyed he let the temperature of this DP slip past his guard. There was more wafer here, along with light sweetness in a honey, lilac and white honeysuckle direction. It was also fresher than the ’64. This was a classic ’73. The palate was long and zippy, more linear with lots of minerals and much more race in the car. It lacked the fat, decadent fruit of the ’64, however, and the Hillbilly found it ‘thinner and getting crushed.’ I defended the ’73 a bit and its minerally definition, and he conceded he was a bit hard…for various reasons. Its finish kept getting stronger in the glass. Hints of rye crisp rounded out this excellent DP (94+).

It was Krug’s turn, beginning with the 1976 Krug. It was similar to the ’73 DP in its stony and minerally personality, but ‘heavier’ per Bruce and ‘a little dusty.’ It had the signature Krug vanilla cream on top of everything. Its palate was big and rich, heavy being a good way to put it. The ’76 was full, long and in charge with lots of straw and hay flavors. Its power really impressed (96).

The 1979 Krug, batting second in this flight, smelled a kiss mature, masked a bit and closed in its nose. The palate was ‘snappy’ per Todd, and Rob agreed. It was zippy and stony but noticeably simpler than the ’76, squarer on its dirty palate. It was a good dirty, of course. These were both ‘regular’ Krug bottling, not Collection (94).

It was on to a trio of super-heroic Burgundies, beginning with my 1966 DRC Richebourg, which had a great nose. It was ‘sexy and velevety,’ per the Hillbilly, but he might have been talking about something else lol. The nose was super sexy, so sweet and forward with loads of red fruits, baby powder, oatmeal and brown sugar. The palate also had lots of oatmeal and brown sugar, outlined in chalk. The finish was a bit dirty with some bitter citrus twists. This was a ‘take me now’ wine, a quality the Hillbilly likes in many ways. Its flavors were very autumnal and menthol started to take over; there was a lot going on in this mature and tasty Richebourg. It might have been a touch advanced, but not enough to make its way into the score (93).

Everyone got out of the way for the wines that followed. Big Boy was about to put on a production, beginning with a 1962 Rousseau Chambertin. It had a deep nose, brimming with haunted red fruits, forest and a hint of woodsy spice. Chunks of wet earth were also present in its oily nose. The palate was round and rich but satiny smooth like ’62, very elegant and with bits of browned biscuit flavors on its finish. There was also a hint of autumn to its palate, like the beginning of Fall on a late September morning. Some latent grit emerged with time in this classic (95).

The 1978 DRC Romanee Conti that followed put everything to bed. The nose screamed ‘WOW’- it was menthol city, built upon iron, rose and blood. Some garden came in, providing some nice recreational aromas for this budding metropolis. Layers upon layers of every shade of exotic fruit unfolded, and beef satay with hints of peanuts joined the party in its incredibly decadent nose. The palate was smooth and lush, dripping with oil and full of bloody mary flavors. It separated itself from the pack, although we could all see the sibling rivalry with the Richebourg. Big brother won. As I settled in on my score, I had to put this wine in that ‘best wines of my life category’ and one level up from outstanding. At the same time, I felt like this was a wine that was as good as it was ever going to be, and I didn’t see as much long-term potential as in other big-time vintages of RC. It was definitely plateau-ing, but it could possibly do so for another thirty years, to be fair. Big Boy agreed that while extraordinary, it will never be on that mega-level of the greatest RC’s of all time, citing ‘not in the top 10 of the 20th Century.’ So my point is while the ’78 RC is 97 points right now, I wouldn’t be surprised if this slipped to a 96 over the next decade or so (97).

After an unfortunately oxidized 1949 Pommery (DQ), we finished strongly with an excellent 1955 Pommery. Aromas of fresh straw and hints of glue and soap jumped out at first, and when I say sopa that is in a good way, like the soap you find in one of the best hotels when you really need a shower. There was orange marmalade as well, and its flavors were nice and clean, full of white fruits (93).

I am not sure what else was tapped into by these fine gentlemen later that evening, as I finally made my exit, the first one to do so. It was a great Monday, one that would make Hank sing, ‘All my rowdy friends are here on Monday night!!!’

FIN

JK

The Punisher

Posted on | December 7, 2009 | No Comments

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

A Trio of Krugs

Posted on | December 5, 2009 | No Comments

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

In Europe in Love

Posted on | November 30, 2009 | No Comments

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.

EMP

Posted on | November 26, 2009 | No Comments

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

Latour at Latour

Posted on | November 19, 2009 | No Comments

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

Let’s Play Two

Posted on | November 18, 2009 | No Comments

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

Kickoff Classic

Posted on | September 25, 2009 | No Comments

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

Dinner with Jay and Anne

Posted on | September 22, 2009 | No Comments

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

Authentic Venetian Prosecco

Posted on | August 7, 2009 | No Comments

A recent advertisement for a Prosecco offer issued by Averys of Bristol and The Daily Telegraph caught my eye. It ran in the Weekend section of this venerable British newspaper on 1 August, 2009. The Daily Telegraph is a reputable newspaper. Averys of Bristol is part of Laithwaites which own Direct Wines and the Sunday Times Wine Club amongst others.

Let’s take a closer look.

The title ‘Authentic Venetian Prosecco’ is clearly designed to persuade a consumer that prosecco is a traditional and historical beverage intimately connected with ‘La Serenissima’ (produced in Venice) and that only ‘authentic prosecco’ has the right to be considered as such. The bottle contained in the offer is one such example.

However, there is no such thing as ‘Authentic Venetian prosecco’. The descriptive ‘Venetian’ only refers to the city of Venice (not the Veneto nor Friuli Venezia Giulia) and no wine has ever been made in Venice for the simple reason there are no vineyards. Much of the wine consumed during Venice’s early history was made in the south of Italy (Puglia) and the modern drink known as ‘Prosecco’ was only created in its current form in the early part of the 20th century following the invention of the system for producing the secondary fermentation in sealed stainless steel vats which results in the wines effervescence. It is then bottled directly. This was an Italian invention (1895 Federico Martinotti) albeit patented by a Frenchman (Charmat). The first bottle of wine produced with ‘Prosecco’ on the label was only in 1924 manufactured using the Charmat method. The wine appears to have no quality labelling attached to it – IGT or DOC.

Prosecco is the name of a grape not an area, which is why it had (until this year) escaped protection under Italian/European law in its use/misuse unlike, for example, Champagne. Prosecco is grown all over the world and apart from its heartland in Italy of Conegliano-Valdobbiadene it is grown throughout the Veneto, FVG and Piemonte.

Having established the phoney credentials of this wine, as described by the Daily Telegraph’s/Averys copy writers it perhaps comes as no surprise that they should continue to be compounded.

‘Unlike most sparkling wines, the authentic prosecco Frizzante ‘Di Paolo’, from the hills north of Venice…’ This is interesting because we are now told that the wine is not ‘authentic Venetian’ but in fact comes from the ‘hills north of Venice’. However, this appears to be written to persuade people that these are other qualities which also justify its status as ‘authentic’. ‘Unlike other sparkling wines it has only gentle effervescence and moderate alcohol…’. The suggestion here is that these are characteristics unique to ‘Di Paolo’. Firstly, all Prosecco is moderate in alcohol. Second, the ‘gentle effervescence’ (in other words ‘frizzante’) whilst widespread in Italy generally denotes a wine which is inferior in quality, and cheaper, to ‘spumante’. Wines which are ‘frizzante’ in style may have less alcohol in them and less pressure in the bottle from the gas in the wine. Good quality ‘Prosecco’ is invariably ‘spumante’.

The quote from a wine critic used in the advertisement “Deliciously fruity, crisp, off-dry and light… one of the world’s most voguish wines” actually comes from an article the critic wrote on his website about the true heart of prosecco which is the area of Conegliano-Valdobbiadene, now an area designated DOCG under Italian wine legislation and which the Italian Agriculture minister recently described as the “historical areas of wine production”. It has little to do with the wine advertised in the offer.

From August 1, the use of the word Prosecco on a label is more controlled. ‘di Paolo’ may no longer be able to label this type of wine ‘Prosecco’ should he decide to make it next year. So much for its ‘authenticity’.

Since there are no examples of this wine being sold anywhere else in the UK there is no way of knowing if the price is a genuine reduction or not. It is simply listed on the Daily Telegraph website at the higher value.

The artwork of the advertisement also struck me after a while. Why not show the whole bottle and cut off the photograph at the neck? Well, there is one possible explanation. Perhaps it does not carry the kind of foil over a stopper some might expect from a Prosecco – wines which are ‘frizzante’ often don’t. Some people will undoubtedly be disappointed if this is true. The position of the glass over the bottle is no simple idle montage. Good quality Prosecco has a special bottle shape. This photograph thus seeks to disguise the shape of their own wine bottle.

Prosecco comes in a variety of styles – brut, extra dry and so forth. Nothing in this advertisement declares the wine’s style – an important factor.

Judge for yourself the merit of this offer.

For all one knows the wine may be quite excellent… but it seems doubtful. Only the offer price seems to be of importance: the cost of this wine is mentioned no less than 5 times.

Bad Boy 2

Posted on | August 6, 2009 | No Comments

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

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