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Every day, every one of us plays the role of judge. We judge people when we interact with them, we judge people when we read about them, we judge people when we look at them without knowing a thing about them. Then there are real judges, the ones that lay down the law, so to speak. But when it comes to wine, there is only one Judge, but he lays down bottles. And after reviewing the thousands of cases over which he presides, I can safely call him ‘Your Honor.’
Outside the Judge’s Batcave
A 1990 Bollinger RD was not exactly welcome due to my headbanging night prior, but it got me back on the wagon with its tasty and slightly oxidized style. It was disgorged in 2005, eight years ago, which almost fit into my ‘needs at least 10 years of disgorgement’ theory. This was ready to go and enjoyable in its bready, beefy way (93).
The night prior I was actually with The Keymaster, holding his only bottle of 1962 Domaine Leflaive Chevalier Montrachet in my hands. I cooed, I nudged, I complimented, but the bottle went right back into the racks. He still opened up a crazy amount of wines, so I couldn’t complain, but I couldn’t help but think about what could have been for the rest of the night, and for the rest of the next day as well.
Lightning struck twice, but this time it hit me right on the palate, as The Judge pulled out the very same wine the next day. There are many things that will never happen again in my life, and I am pretty sure that seeing a bottle of this wine on consecutive days in different countries could be number one on the list lol. This bottle had a touch of alligator pee to its color, and the fill was a touch low, so I put it in the 50/50 category – either it would be great or Drano.
Dreams Do Come True
Thankfully, it was still alive, with a full, rich personality. I put that in my ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’ category, especially in the presence of The Judge. Old wood, forest, tanned fruit and big butter all made its nose delectable and delightful. Its mouth had a Sauternes-like richness with a great finish full of toffee. The Judge noted how ‘the acidity was still there,’ and Sebastien drooled ‘great’ out of the corner of his mouth. Orange crept in as the palate became even more buttery, and white forest joined the party. It got better and better, with ‘flambe’ and ‘eucalyptus’ from the crowd (97).
A quartet of ancient Margauxs followed, as in the appellation and not the Chateau, save one. The 1929 Cheateau La Colonilla sounded more like a reason to visit the doctor than a wine. Old banana wood and mesquite came out of its sickly nose. Tree bark was there and still fresh, but the palate was a bit tangy, although it possessed nice fruit. It was generous like a good ’29 should be, but there was fungus under its nails and more tang without the Shanghai. The Judge observed ‘incense’ while I found cocoa. It was interesting and good in a perverse way (87).
Yabba Dabba Doo
The 1929 Chateau de Lamouroux had ‘peppermint and eucalyptus’ in its nose, but its palate was decidedly corked despite some nice flesh. Beyond its corked quality, this was classic, like an 88 mph fastball from an 8-time all-star that was no longer at that level but still a pro (89A).
1928 was a great vintage, and the 1928 Chateau Desmirail was exhibit A. Even a relatively unknown wine such as this showed splendidly and quickly took charge of the flight. It smelled younger and fresher than either of the ’29s, and Sebastien noted ‘menthol.’ I noted coffee, while The Judge found it ‘creamy.’ Its palate was nutty and sweet, with oil, caramel and black fruit/cassis flavors. It was almost excellent but very good in the end (91).
Four of a Kind, But Only One Queen
Sebastien likened the 1928 Margaux to ‘an artist’s studio,’ as he smelled canvas and palette. It was spot on! There was also some George Clintonesque chocolate city there as well. The palate continued that theme in lush, tasty and long fashion. The Judge admired its meatiness, and I its salty finish. Sebastien found its salt to be that of a langoustine, ie of a brinier nature. Chateau Margaux clearly stood out from the rest of the pack (95).
A 1937 Gruaud Larose also had a salty nose, a la seawater from the ocean. It had a soft and smooth palate that was easy, luscious and tender. The goose made it even more loose, or better, I guess that is all about relativity (93).
Self Explanatory
The 1959 La Tour Haut Brion quickly became red of the night. This was a superb bottle, full of smoke, caramel, black licorice, black currant, leather, green mint in a chocolate chip ice cream way. The Judge found ‘the buttery style of Pomerol’ in this giving and delicious red. Graves and 1959 will always go well together (96).
The 1947 Lynch Bages had typical Lynch beef and black fruit aromas, along with wafer, cold asphalt and ‘animal.’ Its palate was even blacker, and while this was still an excellent wine, it was at the end of its apogee (93).
The 1928 Pichon Lalande was tea-like and (DQ).Bottle dismissed.
Solid Cork
People say they don’t like to be judged, but on a night like this, it was an honor to be Judged. Holding court never tasted so good.
In Vino Veritas,
JK
