The 1985 Krug Clos du Mesnil was deemed ‘perfect’ by The Punisher. It was much more zippy in a leaner way, quite racy and dare I say fresher than the ’88, not that the ’88 had any problems! This wine had a great icy white personality, perhaps more suitable for my Scandanavian wine loving friends lol (95).

The 1989 Coche Corton-Charlemagne was corked L, but the palate wasn’t bad enough to turn me away! There were many classic components along with nutty and caramel notes there, so it got a hall pass in my mouth, wait, that doesn’t sound right. Despite its corkiness, it clearly outshined the MP (96A).

The 1995 Coche-Dury Corton Charlemagne that followed was gamier and a touch more wheaty than the 1996 and much more open and inviting. This was all rainwater and yeast with corny, gamy fruit and a fleshier, more buttery and kinky palate (95).

Next up was the 1992 Coche-Dury Corton Charlemagne, which showed up with more rainwater and butter on its nose with that ’92 botrytis kink. It was lush, creamy, so sexy and good, with great sweetness on the palate. its sweet honey flavors made me coo, but this was still a vimful 1992 (96).

The 1991 Coche-Dury Corton Charlemagne had a bit of back alley and rainwater to the nose, but this leaner wine couldn’t compete with the other glasses around. It was a milder effort, still long on acid with nice intensity but less complexity (91).

We time warped and jumped to the 2002 Coche-Dury Meursault Perrieres, which had much ‘more sulphur’ per Bad Boy’s lady friend of the week. This was fresh and zippy with all the typicity of Coche. The 2002 MP was an outstanding and classic example of this wine, bringing this ‘premier’ cru back to the its rightful glory spot. Sorry, that should be G spot and glory…glory hallelujah! This had all the great spice and flexing acid this wine should (96).

The 2005 Coche-Dury Corton Charlemage was a beauty, with all the classic Coche goodness. It had all the balanced elegance that one could hope for in a big, ripe vintage. This was all about the white fruits and ice. There was an incredible smoothness on its palate along with nice spice, minerality and a long, smooth finish (95).

I wasn’t spitting much, and it was a long day of travel involving two flights to get here, so I was starting to fade a bit. The last couple of whites (before some reds) had some snippets qualify as notes. The 2006 Coche-Dury Corton Charlemagne was ripe, tropical and clean but a little simple. Perhaps it was some palate fatigue setting in, but I still found the wine at the bottom of excellence (93).

The 2007 Coche-Dury Corton-Charlemagne drank better, with a longer finish in the classic white, icy style. This was an outstanding wine, although I am not sure it will get much better (95).

It is always nice to see a good bottle of fifties Petrus, and tonight’s was the 1959 Petrus. On this night, it was riper than the Lafite and, of course, more Pomerol-ish. It showed lots of deeper purple rain and chocolate qualities. It was chunky and oily, and it took me a while to pin down which vintage it reminded me, and then it came to me in a flash: 1970! It had that same chunky richness. There were nice curds and whey, so I obeyed (96+).

The 2010 Coche-Dury Corton Charlemagne was so elegant and so long (I wrote: see previous note with The Rev and Bad Boy in LA, or did I not write that one up?). It was reminiscent of the 1996 vintage upon its release, another vintage that Coche released late, except I think that it was 1k a bottle at the time not five! It was still quite shy, but one sip had me once bitten. The wine was clean and pristine, clearly with the most potential generosity (98).

Recent trips to Europe and Nantucket saw me drinking lots of Bordeaux, and significant selections from two of its most righteous vintages, 1982 and 1945. There is no doubting the greatness of 1945, arguably the greatest vintage of the 20th century. There should be no doubting the greatness of 1982, either. I think there is still some Parker envy relating to 1982, since this was the vintage that made him a star, and so many still can’t accept it. Anyway, consider me a 1982 lover, I even had kids with one 😉

A 1982 Cos d’Estournel was unfortunately corked, which was a shame since this can compete with the best of the vintage (DQ).

The 1982 Grand Puy Lacoste immediately showed how good Pauillac is in this magical vintage. Its nose was rich, buttery and heavy with blacker walnut, slate and nutty aromas. Garden and fresh herbs added complexity to this rock solid wine. There were more tannins here on its rich palate, which had great minerality on its finish. This was still young (95+).

I expected the 1982 Leoville Las Cases to be one of the wines of the day, but this bottle needed more time. It was a bit oakier at first, lengthy yet smooth. Its tannins had flesh, and its fruit morphed into delicious, but in a more violet and herbal way. It ‘acted like a shock absorber’ per Omar, and we both sensed more Cabernet Franc here than anything else. I will say I have had better bottles, not that this one was off (94).

We changed gears to St. Emilion and a 1982 Canon. This had a great nose, with that St, Emilion/Cab Franc thing happening, again with violets but also with great musk. The wine was round and tasty with nice stones, herbs and purple kink. It, too, was on the border of outstanding, but it just made it across. A real pleaser, especially given the price in the market (95).

The 1982 Ausone came from the dark era of Ausone, that mid-60s to mid-80s era when the wine simply was not great like before and after. This was much mintier and wintier, so to speak. Red fruits gave way to Christmas trees and pudding. At first, it was softer, easier and tender, but it put on weight with time in the glass and with food. It fattened up and out (93).

The 1982 Cheval Blanc was more reserved. It was dustier and lighter than expected, as the Canon stole the show. There was great intrigue and subtlety to its aromatics. This, too, was smooth and long, and it continued to improve and flex more and more. Omar hailed Cheval as the ‘one-third wine.’ It is right next to Pomerol, its gravelly soil is reminiscent of Graves, yet it is St. Emilion, of course. Ultimately, I gave it the same score as the Canon, but the Canon was more enjoyable today (95).

The 1982 Haut Brion was delicious but advanced. It had an intoxicating, sweet nose that reminded me of the ’45 Mouton I had the night prior, but I will get to that more later. Its minty, sweet, brown sugary nose was very inviting, but it was more advanced and more mature than every other wine so far. It was still so good, but it was more ’45 than ’82. I guess that’s a compliment. If it was really a 1945, I probably would have given it a point or two higher, which sounds like the definition of pedigree (95A).

The 1982 La Mission Haut Brion was a spectacular bottle, probably the best one of this that I have ever had. It was young and tight, full of black fruits. There was a flash of sweetness, but this was a taut, stacked wines. Flavors of charcoal, gravel, chocolate and nuts blended together like a ’60s quartet of rhythm, blues and soul. Shit, that’s a trio (98).

The 1982 Mouton Rothschild was much tighter in the nose, but more open on the palate. There were hints of BBQ, cassis, green fruit and honey. Rich, buttery and raw potential oozed into my mouth. This was the most open and giving ’82 Mouton that I have ever had. The fruit had more layers than government red tape, and it went fifteen levels below ground zero, making it (98+).

This bottle of 1982 Mouton Rothschild wasn’t as ripe as the one in Nantucket. It was more pointed, a touch leaner, with leather, cedar and a nice, long finish. There was more fruit in the mouth and on the finish, and it kept getting better. This was big and polished (97).

The second wine of this blind flight was a touch weird at first, possessing banana peel and coffee grinds in its nose. A touch of cinnamon freshened up the back alley action that was trying to work itself out. The palate of this 1949 Latour was quite pleasant, solid but again a step short of greatness. Frederic found it ‘a little mushroomy.’ We later found out that the ’49 and ’50 that followed were both recorked in 1992 or 1993, although Latour doesn’t indicate that on the cork. On average, they sacrifice one bottle for every two cases when they recondition (94).

The 1950 Latour had a thicker finish with a strong grip. It was drier with more desert qualities and a leathery personality. Its nose had great spice and earth aromas, along with black tobacco. Its palate was big, rich and chocolaty, but with a little air, it came back down to Earth. Initially, it was my favorite, but it got leaner in the glass, a touch too quickly (93).

The crowd was pretty much equally divided as to its favorite of the first three wines, but there was no denying that the 1961 Latour was the wine of the night. There was a similar fruit profile here to the previous Latours, in a much younger and more virile way. This was much deeper, and much more serious. There was a lot of intensity here, and the ’61 Latour had all the right moves and all the right curves to move in the first place. My notes read, ‘I’m yours.’ Not sure if I meant the wine said that to me, or I said that to the wine. Either way, it was on. ‘Raw’ and ‘chocolate’ came from the crowd, and Frederic admired its ‘noble herbal energy.’ There was great minerality and outta control spice to this increasingly complex wine. Flavors of tightly-wrapped nuts in cassis lingered seemingly forever. By the way, there are 25 Imperials left of this vintage at the Chateau. Damn (99).

The 1945 Cos d’Estournel set the evening on the right course with a fabulous nose full of smoke, cedar, charcoal and nut. This was a clean and smooth wine. Its palate was satiny, balanced and creamy. While delicate, it was still charming, with delectable cherry flavors and a nice, dry finish. The Fink found it ‘more interesting’ than some of the warmups (94).

The 1945 Palmer had a deep, dirty nose, but in a good way. It was nutty and deep with a chocolaty, beef satay edge. Its palate was full, lush and heavy, and we were certainly in outstanding territory. The muscular style of 1945 flexed here in this big, rich wine. It kept getting better (96).

Cheval Blanc was the only Right Banker on this evening, and it didn’t disappoint with its red, wintergreen and forest fruits. It needed a little more time to open up and shake some metallic edges out, but the earth came out eventually. The animal, the mineral and the vegetable were all there. This bottle of 1945 Cheval Blanc stayed fresh, and its acid really stood out. This had some gorgeous t ‘n a, worthy of Instagram. Yes, I’m hooked, find me @john.kapon . That’s where you get the real time wines being tasted, but still far from all lol (95).

The 1945 Lafite Rothschild had a touch of VA in the nose that blew off with time. Aromas of ramps and leafy greens gave way to caramel and cedar. Its palate was fleshy, and that initial touch of madeira blew off into a solid and delicious wine, but not one of the vintage’s elite (94).

The 1945 Chateau Margaux had a mmm mmm great nose that was smoky, elegant and smooth. It had this ‘good cardboard’ to it, like a new Chanel box for women. Its palate was simpler and easy, a bit woodsy yet pleasantly full-bodied (93).

Young Bordeaux may be out of fashion, but if anyone need to be reminded of the greatness of Bordeaux, pop open a 1982, or even better a 1945. There is no denying the great pleasure these great vintages and wines give when of a certain age.

Ok, I officially recognize that I am still stuck in March and now three months behind all my notes, and that I never even wrote up the hundreds of Burgundies tasted during our Grande Fete de Bourgogne week back in February. Now that I have addressed my guilty conscience for all these notes I have yet to share, I am addressing another thing that has me feeling guilty – too many of my notes are Burgundy, and I am not sharing enough notes for all the other wine regions. Truth be told, I do drink a lot of everything. Italy is a particular pet peeve, as are the dry GG German Rieslings, Austrian Gruners, and the great value that represents the Rhone, to name a few. But the first place I have to go after Burgundy will always be, of course, Bordeaux.

Now before I dive into a most memorable evening of Bordeaux I had last month, I have some unfinished business that first week of March, and a magnificent dinner hosted by Tom Terrific at Quince in San Francisco. It was a Magnum Burgundy dinner, carefully curated by Dapper Dave, with some very special magnums assembled with some of New York and San Francisco’s greatest wine intelligentsia. I guess I do drink a lot of Burgundy, it even has to make its way in my Bordeaux article lol. So here is the lineup and scores, before a brief summary paragraph or two.

We had an ‘acclimation’ wine, a 1978 La Mission Haut Brion. While it lacked the intensity of another recent bottle, it was still a very good wine. Soft, tender and smooth, it was very fresh and ‘delicious.’ Miss Moutai found it quite ‘smoky,’ and an amazing and distinctive Smores like quality developed in the nose with time. However, this particular bottle lacked oomph; another recent bottle was closer to 95 points (92).

The 1961 Haut Brion had an ‘oh yeah’ nose that was talking out loud with its nutty and creamy style. It had the caramel and the smokehouse with a touch of band-aid along with palm tree and cocoa butter. The cocoa butter really took over, excitingly so. This was a rich, sumptuous, decadent and creamy palate with nice grit, and it was right there with the 1989 qualitatively. Miss Moutai admired its ‘salinity,’ and there was no doubting the quality of the bottle of the glorious 1961 (98).

The 1959 Haut Brion was richer in the nose and more chocolaty. There was a touch of game, but its palate delivered a richer, denser experience than the 1961 with better concentration. There was more plum and chocolate again, and cereal flavors emerged. It had a ‘well formed backbone of acidity’ per one guest, and was ‘coherent and consistent’ per another (98).

Alas, the good luck couldn’t last, and a 1945 Haut Brion was (DQ).

It was Margaux’s turn, starting with a 1982 Margaux, Chateau Margaux lol. There were great grains to its nose, every cereal flavor imaginable. Its mouth was rich and round with a nice kiss of peppermint. There was nice length to this smooth and delicious red, although it was a bit mild. ‘Wet Shitake’ came from Miss Moutai (95).

The 1959 Margaux had lots of black fruits, and more of that reference iron fist. There was more animal here, almost sweat. It was rich and round like the ’82, with nice charcoal flavors on its finish. This was an outstanding wine, a fastball of a Margaux with equal status to the 1982 (95).

There was a great nose full of caramel city. It was rich and sexy with loads of toffee candy. While delicious, it quickly lost a step in the glass. Special K noted, ‘blood,’ and someone else admired its smoky and meaty qualities. The wine was a 1928 Margaux (95).

A discussion about the Margaux flight ensued, and the concept of femininity came up, and how that should not be considered equivalent to being weak. Margaux was not feminine like a flower, but rather feminine like a bomb, reasoned one of the women in attendance. I have seen many feminine bombs firsthand, and I agree. I can safely say they are the most deadly lol. Both the HB flight and the Margaux flight had great consistency, and someone observed ‘mint mint mint’ in the Margaux.

Now it was Lafite’s turn, beginning with a 1986 Lafite Rothschild, which was quite elegant. This was more feminine than any Margaux, smooth and soft like satin sheets at first. Its palate had lots of wheaty flavors, and nice concentration emerged with time. This was an outstanding feminine specimen lol (95).

The 1966 Lafite Rothschild was a bit of an outlier given the quality elsewhere, but we marched on. There were curds and whey here with sweet and sour fruit. Special K found it mousy, and it was definitely thinner than anything else so far (90).

The 1953 Lafite Rothschild has long been a legend of this vintage, along with Margaux. This bottle didn’t disappoint. It was a pinch weedy at first, but it still had this rich toffee decadence. This was a ‘honey bunny’ per one of the guests, and its honeyed sweetness tickled all my senses, too. ‘Pure genius’ was noted by The Big O, as well as the fact that this flight wetted his appetite to the point of salivation, well, at least the last two wines. On this night, and with these two bottles, the ’53 surpassed the ’59 (98).

The 1959 Latour was richer and frankly better than the 1961. It was another example in my case study. ‘Again ’59 reigns supreme,’ I wrote. Not much more needed to be said, other than black, rich, leathery and zippy. This was a great wine (98).

The 1949 Latour was clearly older than the previous two wines, but there was still outstanding complexity here. There were great old book flavors in this super sexy wine. It was long with a crackling finish, but air took a lot of wind out of the ’49’s sails rather quickly. It got a bit herbal and vegetal thereafter, but it still maintained its outstanding status (95).

The 1929 Latour, the second oldest wine we would have on this evening, had a bit of hot sauce to it. This was buffalo wing city in its nose. It was another rich and sexy wine, adding sumptuous to the mix. There was still grip initially, but a bouillon characteristic soon took over. While the ’61 ascended a couple of points, the ’29 descended accordingly. Cherry cola, barn, hay and mesquite all joined the party. The first sip was 98 point territory (96).

There were four more Firsts to go, the first being a superlative bottle of 1982 Mouton Rothschild. This was so young compared to almost everything else so far, deep and dark like a forest at night. I started to lose sight of my notes, but I saw tobacco and a good quote from The Big O, who could ‘see the future of the wine.’ I didn’t lose sight of my score of this impressive ’82 (98).

There was another very good but lesser ’66, this being the 1966 Mouton Rothschild. It was full of animal, barn and hay, a bit weird. It was Mouton light with ‘peanut butter.’ Another found it to be a good ‘chugger’ (90).

There was one perfect bottle, or as close as it gets, since I don’t believe in perfection. The 1945 Mouton Rothschild once again proved to be one of the greatest wines of all time. The mint, the eucalyptus, the soy, the tea leaves…there was a log going on. Someone found ‘hoisin,’ and without question this was the heaviest and most concentrated wine of the night. This was, indeed, flamboyant, so exotic, practically ‘medieval’ per one. If you wanted to argue that this was the best wine ever made, it would be tough to argue otherwise, although I might have 3-4 recommendations, and they all start with DRC or Petrus (99).

It was great to get back to the Bordeaux basics thanks to The Big O, and it reminded me while Burgundy may be more exciting and enticing for those first thirty years, and while it may be a coin flip for the next twenty, it is tough to argue with the reliability and the ageability of great Bordeaux to go 50-100 years. There isn’t much better, and therein lies its greatness. Cheers to Bordeaux!

We had a few whites to start, a pair of Raveneaus and a pair of Leflaives. The 1999 Raveneau Chablis Valmur was elegant and steely, and its palate was smooth and tasty. It offered up lots of signature Raveneau goodness in a light, pleasant way. It seemed to be on its plateau already; not a wine that will improve. It was pretty (93).

The 1990 Raveneau Chablis Valmur was a ‘great bottle’ per The Ambassador. It was much more mature in its nose, showing more yeast, more yellow fruits, more spice, more perfume – just more of everything than the ’99. It was long and delicious, in a great spot with its chewy fruit and smoky spice (95).

The 1988 Domaine Leflaive Batard Montrachet was gamy and more figgy; a bit mature but in a passing its prime kind of way. In hindsight, the Batard should have been served first. It had nice lushness but could not shake its gaminess. Candle wax flavors also developed (92).