The 1979 Krug Collection gets better with each day that passes. It is finally starting to show some skin, and this magnum was oh so good. Aromas of vanilla cream and honey were plenty prevalent in its saucy, sexy nose. There was some laser and razor to it, and its honey kept blossoming. The palate was rich and zippy with more honey flavors, almost spoon-like in their personality. A wafer-like complexity emerged as its honey dissipated. I think we had The Cardinal to thank for this treasure (96+M).

A quartet of white Burgundy followed, and the first wine was thanks to Gentleman Jim, and extra thanks were in order since it was a 1996 Coche-Dury Meursault Perrieres. There was a touch of gas to its snowcapped fruit, along with ice crystals. Its fruit was wealthy, and its acidity was incredible. There were flashes of yellow to this young and impressive white. It still felt 5-10 years away from being there. Someone admired its oily mouthfeel (96+).

The 1998 Coche-Dury Corton Charlemagne was cleaner and more elegant than the Perrieres. It had that signature Coche nuttiness but was still very icy and coy. There were minerals and earth underneath this flirtatious wine. The acid stayed strong and the finish long in this almost rich white. We could thank Lady Agah for this one, or visa versa on the Coches (94).

There is something about a bottle of DRC Montrachet that makes any occasion a special occasion. It doesn’t even have to be great, but the 2001 DRC Montrachet sampled on this night certainly was. I had to apologize to The Punisher and Bad Boy, as they had this vintage four days prior, even though they forgot to give me the call. The Punisher quickly recognized this as a ‘great bottle,’ while Bad Boy hailed it as ‘advanced stratisfication.’ Look it up if you don’t know J. He meant the Monty was the best of the whites, and he was right. It had a very complex nose with great aromatics and pure musk. It was the essence of Chardonnay, and it didn’t suffer from the overt botrytis that many vintages of this wine can have. The palate was round with excellent spice, although the sweetness factor kicked in on the first few impressions in the mouth. Its mint, spice and zip were still all that and then some, tall dark and handsome, if you look me in the eye, I’ll tell you where I come from. It was a Punisher 97 as well (97).

We began another flight with a tight and tannic nose. Plum, cassis, mineral and slate paved the way for this ‘earthy’ wine. It wasn’t as bright as the previous flight per Lady Agah, but its palate recovered with a flash of fruit and a long, alcoholic finish. It was quite tannic, and I thought it could have been Right Bank or La Miss, but it was 1982 Latour. It was less open than the last three or so bottles I have tasted over the last year, but it got bigger and more open with time. I do love this wine (97+).

We figured out rather quickly that we went across the river for a flight of Pomerols, beginning with a figgy and gamy 1989 Le Pin. It was tighter on the palate, with a finish that unfolded over time. The nose was a stark contrast, very open and almost easy. Its gamy, coconutty qualities amongst its aromas merged on to its palate, and I have to say that I was disappointed (92).

I am in the midst of a ferocious few days of fine and rare wine. And on three of those nights, I had the pleasure of properly reconnecting with wine’s original Bad Boy, aka Bruce the Returner. On two of those nights, we were joined by The Rev, one of the fine wine world’s kindest hearts and most gifted palates. The Rev and Bad Boy happen to be good friends, forming what is most certainly the wine world’s most ‘Unholy Alliance.’ On one of those nights, we were also joined by the Botrytis Brothers, who made the evening all the more sweet, of course.

1979 Champagnes were one of the themes, beginning with a 1979 Veuve Clicquot La Grande Dame. It had a lightly creamy nose with traces of vanilla rust and orange rind. It continued to move in a rusty and citrusy direction, possessing nice acidity and length. There were nice kisses of white sugar to its palate (93).

We all thought a 1973 Taittinger Comtes de Champagne was a 1976, as that’s what I told everyone it was, but it was a 1973. Oops. Bruce said ’76 should have been ‘one of the greatest Champagnes ever,’ and he would know. He likened it to ‘sucking down the best lemonade,’ and while the 1973 was similarly a touch lemony and had great zip and doodah to its full finish, this was an affected bottle whose color was a touch brown. It just wasn’t where it needed to be (94+A).

There was one last Champagne on this special evening, a special late release bottle of 1979 Krug. It was released in 1990, and ‘younger’ because of that fact. It definitely came across younger than the Cristal, but not necessarily better. It did feel like it would age longer if trying to gauge in terms of decades. The Cristal had more immediate delectability, but the Krug kept growing on us as well. There were signature apple flavors in this monstrous Krug, which kept improving and opening despite its searing acid. Bad Boy likened the Cristal to a ‘hot blonde’ and the Krug to a ‘sultry brunette.’ Decisions, decisions (97).

The waiter asked us if we wanted dessert, to which I quoted Hemingway. ‘A man who eats dessert is a man who doesn’t drink enough.’ The Yquem was enough, and we finished our wines while celebrating this ‘Unholy Alliance.’

When it comes to the Northern Rhone, there are two names that stand out above all the rest, Guigal and Chave. While the history of Guigal dates back to 1946, Chave’s winemaking heritage dates back to 1481. Now that’s history.

A recent evening in New York saw a group of savvy New Yorkers sampling two decades worth of Chave’s Hermitage Rouge at Boulud Sud. It was a Wine Workshop affair, and the seas were calm with Messrs Hamburger and Madrigale running the show. The wines were anything but, however, as they spoke loudly and proudly on behalf of ‘The Hill.’

The 1990 Chave Hermitage took no prisoners, as always. It is tough to think of a greater vintage for this great wine. The nose has everything and then some – the animal, meat, game, honey, all perfectly roasted in an open campfire meets spitfire, good way. The palate was the tightest so far despite being the oldest, and its acid lingered like great memories. I need a whole bottle of this to myself some time soon (97).

Any good Chave tasting will always have the 1989 Chave Hermitage follow the 1990. The ’89, the year I graduated high school, was another taut one and even more backsided. Its roasted earth qualities were covered in snow; it was definitely a bit shut down. Flashes of tomato, sous bois and white pepper peeped on the palate and while a dose of flash and a shot of heat were present, it just couldn’t get past coming across shut down (94+).

There were two wines left, and both were from the rockin’ Seventies. The 1979 Chave Hermitage had a honeyed, smoky nose that came across marinated, positively so. There was more unique expression to the ’79, but it still had the classic animal, bacon and violet. This was both classy and classic, and while not ‘next level,’ it was still in a good spot (93).

Last and certainly not least was the 1978 Chave Hermitage. Animal, game, smoke, cement, twigs, garrigue and light pepper were all over its open and seepy nose. Its palate was fleshy and still possessed nice richness for such an old soul. It got fleshier and meatier with time. This was absolutely singing right now, there for the taking, but you might wake up without your wallet. I went back to the 1990, and these were definite siblings. The oil and youth of the 1990 clearly stood out when going back, but if you fast forwarded the 1990, you would have the 1978, or at least something close (97).

There are many one two steps to be had in the world of fine wine, but only one Cha Cha Chave.

A fairly recent trip to Bordeaux saw me at Ducru Beaucaillou, with Bipin Desai by my side. It was great to see Bipin, especially in France, as he knows his way around a restaurant and a fine and rare winery or fifty. We were hosted by the dynamic Bruno Borie, owner of Ducru, who made us guess the vintage in each of the four flights featuring eight wines. It was a Noah’s Ark of a night, and all the animals were on their best behavior at the dinner table.

The first Ducru had a deep nose with noticeable oak, as well as cassis and purple fruit. Its fruit was fresh, but it was clear this was a bit brutish with its oak; otherwise, it was great. There was some acid here that integrated over time, and its finish was dry and gritty. The palate had a shot of dry cassis in this young and intriguing 2006 Ducru Beaucaillou (92).

The wine that was paired with it had deeper fruit and a nutty nose. There was real perfume here, and a sweet sex appeal. Its nose was certifiably in a great spot, and its palate was creamy, smooth and lush. There was good spice on its finish. This was a delicious wine with flashes of 1996 and 1982. Every time I have an ’04 claret nowadays, they’re freaking delicious, load up on the 2004 Ducru Beaucaillou for drinking (94).

The fifth wine of our merry evening had some bakery action in its nose with a dried Zin kick. Wood and wool were present, along with yeast and a touch of alley cat in a meeowww way. The palate was delicious again; this was a recurring theme throughout the evening. There were creamy half n half flavors, along with grape jam ones. This was round, rich, lush and pretty, and while the 2003 Ducru Beaucaillou was a little more obvious than the average Ducru, that was A-ok (93).

The 2009 Ducru Beaucaillou was super concentrated, so rich and another over the top wine. All I had left in me was ‘wow,’ and ‘not sure I can drink a whole bottle though… (yet).’(95).

It is tough not to include Ducru amongst the top wines of Bordeaux of the last decade. This was a spectacular showing for young Bordeaux by one of its greatest Chateaux. Bravo, Bruno.