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This article comes to you from the archives of the lost year, 2004. About 75 other articles remain in the vaults from last year. I’ll have to save those for that elusive book deal. A recent cellar made me remember the event and pull it out of the safety deposit box to share.

The stars had aligned in San Francisco last Fall for a historical vertical of Jayer Richebourg, one of the rarest and most expensive Burgundies in the world today, one of the only wines to equal if not often surpass the price of ‘s Romanee Conti. We had two gracious hosts who had invited everyone as their guests for this incredible journey. I knew it was a heavy crowd when I introduced myself to someone and he replied, ‘Gordon Getty, nice to meet you.’ a close friend of mine and I flew up together from LA that morning for lunch; I believe it was a Sunday, after a couple of heavy nights of winebauchery. We were still ready, willing and able, of course.

Daniel Johnnes was there (of course) and led things off with an introduction about Henri and his wines. He said that Jayer’s wish was to make wines that were meant to be drunk; in that regard, Daniel said, Jayer does have a modern approach. 1948 was his first vintage, and Daniel called Jayer ‘true to his style from his first vintage to his last.’ Allen Meadows was there as well (of course), and he mentioned Jayer’s use of new oak. Richebourg is split into two subsections, one being ‘Les Richebourgs’ and the other being ‘Les Varoilles.’ Jayer’s vines are in the Varoilles half, which produce ‘more elegance’ than the vines across the way. His holdings are 0.36 hectares, roughly about an acre which could produce 100 cases maximum if yields were not kept low. So one or two barrels, 25 to 50 cases, is the norm. Jayer also destems, which a close friend of mine found tough to believe due to the pervasive dryness of some of the wines.

There were only three flights, organized chronologically except that the theoretical best vintages were saved for the final flight. There were seven wines in the first flight and six in each of the last two. The first flight showed how Henri is a master of making the most out of every vintage. We began with the 1987 H. Jayer Richebourg, which had a tight nose full of alcohol at first. There was some gamy Pinot fruit behind it with soft cherry, dry leather, good earth and a chip or two of semi-sweet chocolate. There was a lot of elegance and style. The palate was citrusy, taut with bright, citrus flavors and a soft finish that still had long acids. White cola emerged in the second go-around, but citrus held its grasp on the flavor profile and made me smack my lips more than once. It was a very good wine for 1987 (91). 1986 has been one of my sleeper vintages of late after having extraordinary wines from Roumier, Mugnier and Rousseau. I think this could be one of those vintages that fell off the radar, only to reappear twenty years later and become quite desirable. We shall see. I am working on a comprehensive 1986 event for 2006. The 1986 H. Jayer Richebourg was another excellent 1986. It was much more forward on the nose than the 1987 in regard to its fruit. The nose was very fragrant and had plum, blackberry and even a touch of boysenberry. There was light mineral dust and a core/spine of leather and cedar. The nose was exceptionally creamy, as was the palate, and the finish had excellent tension and balance. Tannins were present, the acids were good, and the fruit was nice with a hint of the same citrus found in the 1987. The wine got very Asian in the glass, flirted with an outstanding score, and held its length (94). The 1984 H. Jayer Richebourg had a mushroomy nose with a touch of vegetal earth but also nice rose aromas. There was a hint of cardboard that might have been cork. The palate had good structure and balance, but there were more cedar and leather components here, along with dirty flavors of mushroom, earth and garbage, for lack of a better word. You know, that Beverly Hills garbage. The wine was a bit stewed and had a small hole in the middle of it, but for a wine from 1984, which is about as bad a vintage as Burgundy has ever had, it was not bad at all, especially since it was 20 years old (87). 1983 is another ‘forgotten’ vintage with which I have had more good luck than bad over the past year or two. The 1983 H. Jayer Richebourg was very fragrant with sexy, sultry, sweet red fruit. There were supporting aromas of chocolate, caramel, carob and a pinch of brown sugar. Some overripe plums, right before they enter prune territory, rounded out the nose, which seemed to be on a faster evolutionary track. Then again, it was twenty-one years old, so fast is probably a bad word choice! The rich fruit carried over to the palate and flavors, and there was lots of grip here; the wine was surprisingly, very sturdy. The palate exploded more than any other of the previous three wines. The fruit held and remained very exotic, the finish stayed balanced and reined in, and its earth flavors exerted themselves on the backside. It was outstanding (95). The 1982 H. Jayer Richebourg had an intense nose as well with more classic, gamy, Burgundian fruit. It had stinky fruit in that good Burgundy way with lots of fresh vitamin intensity. One might say iodine. There was also good leather in the nose. The palate was quite wound, ‘very dry and stemmy,’ a close friend of mine noted, despite the fact that Jayer does not use stems. I agreed. The 1982 was a little kinder and gentler regarding its acids. The citric intensity crept out of its nose, and the palate was the longest of the flight so far. The citrus flavors were beautiful and not too tangy (95+). The 1981 H. Jayer Richebourg was another wine from a vintage that most people have written off by now. Its nose was shier with some alcohol and mineral aromas upfront. There was a touch of supportive, green stalk, a flash of plum and red fruits, and a light cedar edge. The palate was taut and on the citrusy side of the flavor wheel; red grapefruits, in fact. There was nice vim but less vigor here, but the wine was rock solid and in a good spot right then and there. a close friend of mine called it a thirty-minute wine, although I thought it held well for at least an hour. It was excellent for that first hour, but ultimately very good (92). The last wine of the first flight was the 1980 H. Jayer Richebourg. There were incredible caramel aromas, a home-made, fine caramel with a chocolate center twist. It dominated the nose. The palate was a lot drier than I expected with tight and dusty flavors. It was a tale of two wines the nose was amazing but the palate was tight, shy and unyielding; will it ever yield at this stage? Since this is one of Jayer’s personal, favorite vintages, perhaps the bottle was off. a close friend of mine complained about its ‘oak tannins, not fruit tannins’ (90+?).

If that was any indicator of what was to come, we were in good shape! And we were, indeed. We started flight number two with the 1979 H. Jayer Richebourg. It had a fragrant nose with ripe red and purple fruits black cherry, cassis and plum. It was very open and complex and had lots of cola as well. Someone noted how they ‘love 1979s’ as it was a ‘very aromatic vintage.’ A touch of brown sugar rounded out the nose. The palate was intense, full of acid and citrus. The wine was long and lingering but very taut, bordering on mean. That touch of brown sugar carried over to its rusty palate. The nose got very exotic and saucy, and the fruit became oily and pungent (94). The 1977 H. Jayer Richebourg had mint jelly jumping to my mind first, and it came with a side of lamb chops as it had a meaty, grilled quality as well. It was very aromatic with faded, dried rose and a touch of vitamins. The palate was rich and delicious with nice, earthy fruit and good grip and length. It was surprisingly good. Eric called it ‘a little harder on the finish,’ and a close friend of mine said ‘it doesn’t have the mid-palate of ’79.’ It got a little earthy and stinky, but mint flavors developed as well. What a show for a ’77! I think this is the only Burgundy I have ever had from this vintage, and it wore it well (93). a close friend of mine noticed the chapitalization in the 1976 H. Jayer Richebourg right away, and it did have a sweeter profile that almost flirted with banana. It was definitely different than the ’79 or ’77 with that sweet, masked quality. one of my fellow enthusiasts was definitely operating! The palate was round and fairly rich, with decent leather, but it seemed simpler by all the other standards already set (88). The 1971 H. Jayer Richebourghad a ’45 second finish’ according to Eric, who was liking it a lot. The nose was brooding, shy yet forceful. It certainly did not have the chapitalization of the 1976, but a close friend of mine was wondering if there was still a pinch of it here. There were black olives in the nose, along with good leather and a touch of sugarplum. The flavors had lots of brown sugar, cedar and earth. The finish was long and strong, and there were loads of tension still to the palate. The finish went on and on and on, but in a fine, distinguished way. Eric added, ‘it sits on the mid-palate and sinks in.’ Someone called it ‘foxy.’ It was the finest finish of the afternoon so far, by far. It was reserved and brooding, and its fruit got sweeter and plummier (96). The 1970 H. Jayer Richebourg was a Lichine label but still domaine-bottled. It was surprisingly open in the nose with the brown sugar, tobacco, earth and a touch of tomato stew. There was good t ‘n a, very secondary but noticeable; make that tertiary as coffee grounds were secondary. The palate was a bit clumsy in its earthy, dirty flavors, although there was good wood on the back side. The mid-palate had a tiny hole in it, and a touch of benevolent garbage flavors rounded out the palate (88). The 1966 H. Jayer Richebourg hinted at what I like to call ‘hubba hubba.’ Its nose had gorgeous fruit on the black and purple side with nice t ‘n a. There was a rugged, earthy edge. The wine was sturdy and very dry on the palate will it ever flesh out? Eric loved the wine and gave it an EG 98! The palate was rustic and earthy, and I kept waiting for the wine to come out of its shell and never quite felt it like Eric (or Allen, as I later found out), although it was excellent and still had more potential at age 38 (93+). a close friend of mine could not get over the stem thing and vowed to do his own stem cell research in the cellars of Jayer. That was the end of the second flight.

The third flight had all the big guns lined up, starting with the 1985. The 1985 H. Jayer Richebourg at first blew me away. It was supercharged and a ‘wow’ wine. a close friend of mine added that the wine was ‘very big.’ There was a pungent intensity inherent in the wine with a touch of cat’s pee, some varnish/turpentine (really its t ‘n a), black cherry and citric acid. Someone gave it an ‘oof,’ adding that it had ‘so much fat.’ There was huge intensity to the palate with lots of grip, acid and citric intensity, or ‘stem acids,’ as a close friend of mine continued on his march. The wine was fine, o so fine, but then something happened in the glass. It started to get a little flabby with some air and very candied. The oak came out more and more, and there was a quick, noticeable drop in character quality. The coffee came out, but the mid-palate went home. What started out as the wine of the day so far transformed from a beautiful swan into a, I don’t want to say ugly, but rather a confused duckling. The wine was still excellent, but it went from 97 points to (94?). It was one of the more rapid transformations I have ever seen in the glass for a twenty year-old wine. The 1978 H. Jayer Richebourg, one of my all-time favorite wines, picked up the slack and more than made up for the deflation of the 1985. The color was so dark and young, always a sign of a great vintage. Musk and vitamins took charge in the nose. Twists of citrus, rose and leather danced around the nose as well. The palate was huge, and the finish was humongous, monstrous and gargantuan as if it was King Kong amongst a herd of gorillas. Ok, I know it’s not herd, but I can’t remember the right word, ok? What is it, gaggle? Tribe? Flock? Any anthropologists out there, let me know. We found out that this bottle came directly from the cellar of Henri. There was a touch of cotton candy, and its fruit got meatier, and its vigor held. The wine kept redefining itself on its finsh; it was an amazing, amazing wine (99). The 1964H. Jayer Richebourg was a left turn as it was maderized, the first really ‘off’ bottle for the day. It happens (DQ). The 1962 H. Jayer Richebourg had an exotic, luscious nose full of exotic black and purple fruits, a sweet glaze, and not much more. ‘It’s Zinfandel,’ a close friend of mine cried, half-joking, yet half-serious. ‘A la ’83 Lafleur,’ he continued. The wine was very meaty, dusty and long on the palate, with excellent definition on the finish and a pinch of citrus. There were also flavors of banana bread, old dictionary and brown confectioners sugar, if there were such a thing. It was outstanding (95). The 1959 H. Jayer Richebourg, unfortunately, was corked (DQ). I have had a 99 point bottle of that before. There was one wine left, or so we thought. The 1957 H. Jayer Richebourg had a stinky nose with a bit of hay and diaper along with earth, tobacco, wet dog and mushroom. The flavors were rich and ripe, however, but also dirty and meaty with its brown fruit, leather and autumnal flavors. Gordon was impressed with the entire afternoon, calling them ‘all smashmouth wines!’ (92)

A couple of other 1985 Richebourgs made their way into the lineup at the end, beginning with the 1985 Meo-Camuzet Richebourg. The wine was incredibly pungent with a nose full of cat’s pee, earth, citrus, old book and leather. The wine was huge, pungent and intense on the palate as well with that great Burgundian stink. It was a style of wine not made for everyone; you had to like pungency and intensity, an intensity bordering on masochism. Bacon, game and vitamins all emerged in this crazy wine, one bordering on genius in my book (98). The 1985 Mongeard-Mugneret Richebourg held its own in the nose and was quite fresh and youthful. There were citrus, game and ham aromas. The palate was soft and easy, nice but not great, perhaps suffering from the unfair position of 21st wine of the day, especially when Henri had a hand in the first twenty (90)! Someone opened up a bottle of 2002 Chateau de Puligny Montrachet Montrachet as a ‘fresher-upper.’ There were lots of bananas in the nose, and the wine was amazingly exotic with its guava and mango. The flavors were banana bread, and it was a New World Montrachet, ‘too much and not Montrachet for me,’ Eric said. It still had a lot of character, even if it was Caliesque (92).

There was a lot of heated discussion at the end of the tasting. We were told that Jayer’s favorite vintages were 1980, 1985, 1978, 1959 and 1962 by a nose over 1961. Allen liked the 1962, 1978 and 1966 the best on this day; Daniel the ’62, ’66, ’57 and ’78. I am not sure if it was in order of preference or not. one of my fellow enthusiasts made a very controversial statement, not saying that it was a definitive one, but a statement in the context of the afternoon. He felt that as the vintages got older, the wines did not necessarily get better, whereas in Bordeaux it seems that the older wines always get better in a similar, vertical-styled tasting. Someone then said that maybe Burgundies get older quicker, and another said maybe old Burgundies are great ’60 minute’ wines, not meant to be consumed over long periods of air-time due to the fragile nature of the Pinot grape. Another was quick to jump to Jayer’s defense, citing the fact that many winemakers take decades to discover their true genius, and perhaps Jayer did not hit his stride until the 1970s, and that older bottles have more variation for Pinot than for Cabernet. Another stood up for the extraordinary quality in the lesser years like 1984, 1977 and 1957, to name a few. Larry Stone shared a quote from the incomparable Clive Coates, who called Jayer’s wines ‘too oaky and not substantial.’ Wilf admitted that he was also not in a state of adoration but was quick to point out how much he appreciated the wines and how amazing the off-vintages were as well. Daniel was an adamant defender of the wines, saying how perhaps his personal feelings, due to knowing Henri so well, entered into his judgment, but he was not ashamed to admit it.

Personally, I thought that from 1971 through 1987 the wines were extraordinary overall except for one or two wines, that’s for sure. The 1978 remains one of my all-time greatest wines, tasted twice with consistent notes. The 1962 and 1966 were no slouches either, and the 1959 was corked, so what can one do? I did understand a close friend of mine’s point in that the tasting did not build into a grand finale and that the 1978, being the wine of the day for many, stole the thunder out of the end. Nonetheless, it was an amazing afternoon, and many thanks to the generosity of Wilf and Eric and their willingness to share some of their amazing collections.