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Experience the finest and rarest wines in the world through the eyes and palate of Acker Chairman and globally renowned master taster, John Kapon (our “JK”).
“Vintage Tastings” is a written journal chronicling the incredible bottles opened at some of the most exclusive tastings, wine dinners, and events all over the globe. These entries represent JK’s commitment to capturing and sharing the ephemeral nature and ultimate privilege of tasting the world’s rarest wines.
Although ratings are based on a 100-point scale, JK believes there is no such thing as a 100-point wine. Point scores assigned to each wine are his own personal attempt to quantify the quality of each experience.
You can never keep a good wine man down. Although he is not on the ‘circuit’ as much as he used to be, Wolfgang Grunewald is doing better than ever. Many of you may remember when we auctioned part of his collection way back in 2008. I know those that bought from the collection remember, as everyone who did wishes they bought more! While recently past the milestone age of 80, Wolf hasn’t aged a bit since that historic auction. In fact, he seems even stronger than before.
Cold on the Trail
Wine and Menu
Garoupa Therapy
Obligatory Food Shot
A recent invitation came to me in the mail, and when I knew it was from Wolfgang, I didn’t even have to look at the menu to know this would be an event worth attending. Two planes and a long car ride up into the snowy Swiss mountains later I had arrived, along with Bipin, whom I had met along the way. Bipin and Wolfgang have been the best of friends for over three decades now, a yin to the other’s yang. In ancient times, there was Beowulf, but in the modern wine era there is Bipinwolf lol. The two of them together is always pure magic, and that’s what happened on this frigid night.
Anticipation
Not too many people can pull out a magnum of 1959 Krug Collection as an aperitif, but Wolf is obviously one of them. The Krug had mellow yet enticing aromas of wheat, grains and a complex kiss of rust. It was full-bodied yet graceful. Wolfgang found it ‘less fresh’ than he remembered, but it was far from the opposite. There was a touch of sour apple in a good way and a twist of exotic citrus rounding out its nose. Its palate was full yet soft, long in its acidity with a mild expression of bubbles still left. It got better in the glass, delivering delightful dry honey flavors (96M).
Ice Never Looked So Good
The evening was an ode to Lafite, and the red wine of our portion of the evening began with a beautiful 1959 Carruades de Lafite. This had a gorgeous nose with nice fruit, fresh yet classically maturing. Carob, caramel, tobacco and a pinch of cedar warmed our souls on this icy night. Its nose was impressively deep and kept opening. Its palate was soft, smooth and tender, a pleasant and pretty wine, but not as exciting as its aromatics. All in all, it was still a beauty (92).
Hardly a Second Wine
A trio of magnums made liftoff official, considering the first was a 1959 Lafite Rothschild. Having had this twice out of bottle in the past month or two, it was good to have another reference point J. This magnum was ‘extraordinary…really extraordinary,’ per one of Wolf’s guests, and he was right. This was a much deeper and darker wine, with black forests and holes needing further research and exploration. There were also chestnuts, smoke, cedar, more roasted nuts and layers of complications in this incredible nose. Black was the fruit on its rich, lush palate. Wolf hailed it, ‘unmistakably Pauillac,’ while Bipin countered, ‘unmistakably Lafite.’ It was saucy and smoky with dark flavors of fruit and middle earth. Rich kept appearing in my notes over and over, as did ‘so young.’ One of the guests (who would know) called it, ‘one of the greatest wines of the century.’ Nuff said (98M).
Magnum Opus
The 1955 Lafite Rothschild magnum was more open in a gamy way, smokier with more red fruits, carob and slate. The palate was smooth and light by comparison with tangy citrus and cherry flavors. There was a nice balance to this plateau-ing wine, which wasn’t showing any signs of decline. It got a little more signature in the glass, moving away from the tang, but staying bright and lean (93M).
The 1953 Lafite Rothschild was another spectacular magnum. Initially five out of eight tasters preferred the 1953, but by the end of the night, it was the same vote for the 1959. The ’53 had a honeyed, buttered nose with all the classic components lined up. Its palate was full and rich out of magnum, long yet elegant. The wine was ‘persuasive and seductive,’ said Wolf. ‘Sounds like your wife,’ I replied. This was another unbelievable beauty, a graceful and sexy wine, but it didn’t have the weight and depth of the 1959, at least not in my book (96M).
The next flight of two began with a 1918 Lafite. It was a bit green and woodsy at first, showing some awkward stages of age. Wolf found it having ‘ammunition’ qualities and ‘roasted,’ also remarking how this wine was still made while the Germans were in France, as the war ended in November. Paint thinner violated the nose and palate a bit, and the other wine writer there called it ‘a lousy vintage.’ It was more interesting than beautiful. There was nice flesh, and the wine got better in time. There was no doubting this bottle’s provenance, as it was a gift from Baron Eric himself (91).
The magnum of 1900 Lafite Rothschild was a real treat; one could see the 1953 in it. They were definite siblings, and Bipin remarked how the 1900 was ‘below 12% alcohol.’ Then he went on to say, ‘alcohol was the enemy of wine.’ A lot of jokes followed, including asking which non-alcoholic wine was Bipin’s favorite J. He meant high alcohol, of course, and he is right. The 1900 had a gorgeous nose. It was so seductive, so sexy, so framed…it belonged in either the Louvre or the Met. Fine and elegant (preceded by two more so’s), this was royalty! Bipin found it ’round and lush like the ’59 with the texture of the ’53.’ It was smooth like butter (95M).
Where Were You Then?
There was only one place to go from here, that being the 19th century, of course. There were three wines from the 1800s, and I started with the oldest, that being the 1846 Lafite Rothschild. Someone cried, ‘History!’ They then took off all their clothes and ran naked into the snow. Just kidding J. I should add that all three had been reconditioned at some point by the chateau, as was the 1900 magnum. There was smoke and gas here along with wealthy fruit. Its creamy and luscious nose was deep and foresty with vanilla and light wood. The palate was more citrusy, soft and tangy (93).
Jiminy Cricket
The 1865 Lafite Rothschild stole the thunder from the anticipated 1870. It had a fantastic nose that was so complex, possessing all the elements of the forest. The trees, the twigs, the earth, the animals, the dew, the moss, the rocks, the wet, the dry, the smells, even the sounds…all it needed was Bear Grylls to jump into the picture with a perfect scoop of butter pecan ice cream in one hand, because that was also definitely in the nose. There was a kiss of banana to its black and purple duopoly. It had an intense finish in an elegant way, bringing cedar, spice and Christmas joy flavors to those both naughty and nice (97).
The 1870 Lafite Rotschild that followed was a bit anti-climactic to me, although five out of eight tasters preferred it. It had more obvious Cabernet in the nose. There was asphalt and meat, and despite the fact that it was richer than the 1865, it was a bit sweet for me. It got simpler in the glass, and I found it softer than I expected or wanted (93).
Doctor’s Orders
Smoke ‘Em if You Got ‘Em
We had a few crazy cigars and a crazy port called Scion, from Taylor’s. It was some barrel they found buried in the cellar that basically was a tawny port from 1855 or something like that, but it wasn’t technically a vintage. I don’t know, look it up, all I can tell you is that it was spectacular, as good as Port gets (98).
Everyone left that night glowing like Christmas trees in December. And off to Paris we went the next morning for six stars in 24 hours, before heading to Bordeaux. The Wolf was back on the circuit, and he was back on the prowl.
The weekend was moderated by James Suckling, and also attended by The Hedonist, so including myself, there were three writers on the scene for this legendary event. The first half began on Friday night, and James warmed us up with a few tidbits, noting how America was really the country that made Petrus famous in the ’80s and ’90s, and that it was over twenty years (1991) since he had done a Petrus tasting that had even come close to what we were about to experience. Today, Oliver Berrouet is in charge of the winemaking duties at Petrus, following in the footsteps of his father, Jean-Claude. The production now averages about 2500 cases, although it was even less in the distant past. Speaking of averages, Petrus is 95% Merlot and 5% Cabernet Franc, and its vines are 100% grown in clay soil. With fifty-seven vintages to sample, that was all the information we needed, and we were all thirsting for our first sip of Bordeaux’s most collectible and expensive wine.
Moderator Extraordinaire
Friday night’s session had us in the modern-era, ie 1982 and younger, and we began with a flight of ‘lesser’ vintages. I have always said that great producers make great wines every year; some just don’t age as long as others. The 1997 Petrus had a nice nose with pleasant plum, cocoa and mineral aromas along with touches of olive and saddle, and a pinch of greenness. At age fifteen, the ’97 seemed to be hitting its sweet spot. The palate was lighter than the average Petrus, but it was soft and tasty with cherry flavors. James admired its ‘black olives, meat and chocolate’ and found it almost Burgundian in character. While it didn’t have the richness of a great Petrus, it gained a bit in the glass and was quite pleasing overall (92+).
The 1994 Petrus had a more pungent, meaty nose with lots of iron, iodine and wild red licorice. There were grain and animal flavors and a medicinal kick to its palate, along with nice richness to its fruit. The Hedonist noted, ‘tapenade,’ and there was also instant oatmeal on its finish. The finish was a lot softer than I expected for this tannic vintage (91).
The 1993 Petrus had an earthy and barny nose, also full of minerals. One commented how it was short and drying out, but I thought that was a bit extreme. This was a rough and rugged Petrus ; it definitely had a bite. It didn’t have the table manners that most of its siblings possess, but its wood and heat made it a bit of a badass. Roman admired its ‘raspberry cassis,’ and I still found it to be very good (92).
Lineup from the Left
I could not say the same for the 1992 Petrus, one of the weakest wines of the weekend, and certainly of this flight. Its nose was yeasty and earthy with a slice of coconut and some dried fruit, almost apple. The palate was simple and relatively unexciting (88).
If there was one vintage that arguably could have been in another flight, it would have been the 1988 Petrus. The Hedonist joked that this was an ‘English vintage, tight ass.’ Roman observed, ‘hazelnut and almond,’ and I also found exotic qualities of cinnamon and red fruits. It was rich, tasty and had the best acidity of the first flight. Cereal flavors rounded out the palate, which lost a step in the glass in time (93).
Lineup from the Right
The 1987 Petrus was corked but still decent. There was a bit of bubble gum perfume, game and date to the nose, and a pleasant, cedary palate. It was round and left a positive impression despite its corked handicap (90A).
The second flight began with the 1986 Petrus and a nose full of red cherry fruit with a shot of cough syrup. Its feminine nose also emitted garden, earth and chocolate aromas, and its palate was a touch sweet. The Hedonist found there still to be a lot of tannins left, and its sandpapery finish backed his opinion up. The palate headed in a candied and caramel direction, ‘a little raisiny’ per James, and ‘baked’ per The Hedonist (93).
The Second Flight
The 1985 Petrus was a horse race with the 1986, literally, as horse and animal was the first thing I noticed in its nose. There was also deep forest and noticeable t ‘n a there. The palate was rich with olive and chocolate flavors, along with tangy bing cherry and game. This was still zippy, more so than most ’85s, and it also had some bakery sweet bread flavors develop. There was a sweatiness that stayed with the 1985, and I preferred it ever so slightly to the 1986 (93+).
The 1984 Petrus had seashells and sawdust in its nose, and while there was not a lot of fruit, it wasn’t bad for 1984. There were flavors of plum and cereal, along with baked apple pie. There was just enough light grit to make it pleasant from start to finish in the mouth (90).
The 1983 Petrus smelled like good real estate in the nose. There were also musk, oats and chocolate pie aromas. The palate was in a great spot like many 1983s, still not peaking either. Rich, tasty and long, I thought this was the best wine of the evening so far, although The Hedonist found it a touch dry (94).
We had another slightly corked wine, this one being the 1981 Petrus. Again, oatmeal and cereal were in the nose, but it was tough to get to much more than that with the TCA there. The palate, however, showed less of the corked qualities, and it came across with impressive earth, meat and black fruit flavors. There was nice flesh to this tasty wine, which was even one’s favorite of the flight (92A).
The crowd was split about what was the wine of the flight, and the 1980 Petrus made an unexpected claim for that title. This was a party Petrus with its wild nose, which was dominated by green olives. There was this Burgundian wildness here, and ‘layers of flavors’ per The Mogul. The palate was lush and tasty, another vintage in a great spot, and certainly the surprise of the night so far (93).
Cork Art
We went forward in time for the next flight, beginning with the youngest wine of the weekend, the 2007 Petrus. This was baby juice by comparison, with grapy, plummy, almost inky fruit that gave a sunny and beachy impression in a California way. The palate was ripe and rich with touches of cinnamon and oatmeal, along with candied fruit and a smooth finish. I wondered whether this wine (and flight in general) reflected that the overall quality of winemaking has gotten better, or just different, and whether that was technology’s blessing, or curse (93).
The 2006 Petrus also had that California exuberance in its rich and buttery nose, along with blueberry and banana fruit. The palate was rich, heavy and large with a creamy, buttery style. Big and buttery appeared in my notes over and over again (95).
I didn’t have much to say about the 2004 Petrus, other than ‘similar candied profile’ and ‘softer.’ It was still an excellent wine, although these young adolescents were starting to be difficult to differentiate as much as the older wines, which is both the worst and best fact about great Bordeaux – it is tough or often a mistake to drink young, but oh so good when old (93).
The last wine of this flight was a 2002 Petrus. This was much leaner in the nose, more cedary and dry. While it didn’t have the fruit profile of the previous three, I liked its poise, strength and character. Its dryness was its strength, for now (93).
I know what you are thinking, sixteen vintages of Petrus and one 95-point wine?!? This Petrus stuff must be overrated and overpriced! Don’t be an uneducated blogger, will ya? There are enough of those out there already, so hold on a second, there was a method to our madness, and might I remind you that Bordeaux really doesn’t get interesting until 1982 and older, as a general (but not universal) rule of thumb.
We marched on to the next flight, which led with the 1999 Petrus. It was as if I was in familiar territory again, back amongst adults after those adolescents from the first decade of the 21st century. Yeast and earth were the first things that stood out of the ’99’s nose, along with t ‘n a and muscular, big and brawny fruit. Black and purple dominated the scenery, although coconut kissed its way in the front door. There was nice game to this zippy, bodybuilder of a Petrus, although The Mogul found it closed (94).
The 1998 Petrus was another monster of a nose, pairing well with the 1999. It was deep like the middle of nowhere in the Pacific, possessing both black fruit and pudding. Its minerals glistened, and smoke and raspberry added complexity. Its palate was a whopper, and while tight, it still showed its big personality well. Flavors of earth, yeast, plum and chocolate were all present, and its acidity lingered in the belly. This was the first, truly profound Petrus of the weekend (96+).
The 1996 Petrus was austere and ‘greeny,’ although there was still yeast and purple rain. While softer and easier than the 1998, it still had some zip. Typical suspects of yeast, smoke, earth, game and chocolate rounded out the palate (92).
The 1995 Petrus was another deep wine, ‘hard’ per Les. The ’95 possessed aromas of yeast and smoke. Muscular and powerful, the 1995 had a boatload of tannins and lots of unrealized potential to follow. I had this another time this year, and it left an even better impression away from all the other Petri dishes, so to speak. Comparative tastings sometimes can lessen or mute a bit the impression one might have when one on one (95+).
Well, the 1989 Petrus did it again. As good as the 1990 was, the 1989 was again better, even though this was more of a photo finish than I remember the other four or five times I have had these wines together. The 1989 had more acidity and zip; it came across broader and deeper, with more earth and length. It wasn’t opulent like the 1990, but its chocolate, yeast, cedar and black fruits were indubitably great. This remains one of the greatest young wines in the world today, and yes, twenty-three years old is young for great wine (98+).
Alexander The Great noted ‘charcuterie’ in the meaty 1982 Petrus. There were lots of green olives as well in this open and gamy Petrus. Someone remarked this was ‘a perfect bottle of 1982,’ and it was similar to the 1980 with its openness. Free love, man, I told you Bordeaux only gets interesting 1982 and older! This was more serious than the ’80, and its palate was lush, tender, soft, delicious and gamy. The Mogul found this was in a ‘sweet spot’ and that ‘it melts in your mouth.’ More olive flavors emerged, and this certainly felt like a great time to be drinking this wine. I still think that while outstanding, it will always be in the second-tier of great Petrus es (95).
There was one more flight to go in our first session, and it was the big-time, young gun flight. I switched it up and went oldest to youngest, since they were all so young, which meant I started with the rock-star 2000 Petrus. I don’t care what everyone says about 2005, 2009, 2010 and the next four vintages of the century that Bordeaux will produce over the next decade, 2000 is still the benchmark vintage for Bordeaux for the 21st Century. The first aroma that assaulted my senses was coffee. The next thing I noticed was its power. The third thing I noticed was how deft and balanced its fruit still was despite all that power. Its fruit was definitely big blue, so much so that I wrote ‘GO GIANTS!’ Yes, it was my 22nd wine, and we all know what happens at this stage of the tasting J. Its nose was ‘perfect,’ and its rich and decadent palate was clearly in the superior category. The Hedonist saw a little ‘baby 1990’ in it. I believe I gave this wine 99 points previously, and I would not be surprised to see other bottles down the road returning to that glory (97+).
Let’s Put This In Perspective
Next up was the 2001 Petrus, an ‘insider’s secret’ vintage per The Hedonist. There was coffee and chocolate in its nose, along with minerals, wheat and a more seductive power than the 2000. This was sexy, seductive and great, and while my notes were waning, the self-evident pleasure of the 2001 Pomerols were not. I still remember a trip to Bordeaux where either Guideneau or one of the Moueixes told me that they wouldn’t be surprised to see 2001 outshine many 2000s a decade or two down the road. This was a big, deep wine, one that left The Mogul’s mouth ‘still dry thirty seconds later’ (95).
The 2003 Petrus was exotic with its cinnamon and molasses aromas. The palate was beefy, rushy and rich, although I can’t for the life of me figure out what rushy means. It was a bit sweet and over the top, a vintage of Petrus that is probably better being sold than consumed in general (92).
There was one last wine, the 2005 Petrus. While I recognized its greatness, I also wrote, ‘I can’t do it.’ It was too concentrated and young for me at this stage; I had given all of myself to each and every wine up to this point and was officially on empty. ‘Coffee, big and buttery, outstanding for sure’ was about as much as I could muster (96+).
The general consensus was that 1989, 1990 and 2000 were the greatest wines of the night. Twenty-five down, thirty-two to go, and what a thirty-two they would prove to be, although I suppose that it was ultimately closer to a top twenty.
Not Much Spitting
Twelve hours later, we began with the 1977 Petrus and another flight of lesser years, but this time with real age on them. None of them could be good, right? Well, the 1977 was certainly evidence for that argument with its nose of dried-out olives and cobwebs. It was ceramic and stony, although there was a touch of plum there. Its palate was brothy and earthy with ceramic, barn and animal flavors. This was just ‘bones and skeleton’ and overly dry (85).
The 1974 Petrus had a nicer nose and darker fruit, along with lighter chocolate aromas. The palate was clearly better than ’77. It was what I would call ‘decent.’ Soft and tasty, this was pleasant and easy with a touch of cardboard in a good way (88).
The 1973 Petrus had more green olive and veggie in its nose, not in an off-putting way. This was tasty, fleshy and actually ripe with some good tomato flavors. There was a nice mineral complexity to the lightly vimful ’73, which was still in a good spot and one of the sleeper vintages of the entire weekend (91).
The 1972 Petrus had powdered sugar in its nose, along with blacker olives and some tomato. This was very aromatic, but its palate was not as good, possessing little fruit and some dry alley flavors. Someone noted that there was ‘almost carbonation’ here, too (86).
The next two ‘off’ vintages both crossed the 90-point barrier, beginning with the 1969 Petrus, which had an exotic nose. Touches of soap and soup mixed with red dust in its dryish aromatics. It got drier in the nose, and I noted that I overswirled a bit while talking, which is not a good idea with older, lesser vintages, as they will not last longer in the glass, and swirling opens up a wine more. The palate, however, had nice lushness in a round way, blacker flavors and a nice finish with respectable acidity. This was still solid (91).
Off Can Sometimes Be On
Last in our first flight was the 1968 Petrus, another wine that exceeded expectations. Roman noted ‘marzipan,’ and James ‘custard.’ It smelled and tasted like a chapitalized Red Burgundy. It was quite gamy with that tobacco and Worcestershire edge. Soft, lush and pleasant, the 1968 was still enjoyable (90).
Our second flight continued with the old and obscure, specifically the 1963 Petrus. Its nose was minty in almost a red way. There were some curds and whey there, along with more red spice. The palate was round and rich but metallic with unripe tannins. There were some pleasant, purple flavors but not much more (89).
The 1960 Petrus was corked, but it could have been a 90-point wine. It was almost bloody in its concentration and felt packed with fruit, ‘very fresh’ per one, but it was ‘hard tasting through’ its corkiness, as James observed (90A+?).
The 1957 Petrus was quite ceramic with lots of band-aids in its nose. The Hedonist found it ‘charred,’ and there were angular aromas of wheat, olives and chocolate. The palate was round and dusty, packed with fruit in a carry-on bag kind of way. Band-aids took over the palate (87).
Hey Buddy! Can You Get Out of My Shot Please?
The 1954 Petrus was about as bad as it got this weekend, with tons of volatile acidity in its nose along with glue. There were bloody mary and celery flavors to this weird wine, which still had decent texture. I wouldn’t call it undrinkable, but it was close, which would mean below 80 points and NR, ie not recommended (82)..
The 1951 Petrus smelled good with nice toast and wheat aromas. Someone remarked, ‘I could drink this,’ a version of a compliment. Its nose was ‘fishy’ to one, but I picked up on cinnamon, dust and dirty birdie. The palate was chocolaty, rich and oily, rather impressive and zippy. It had the most strength of anything so far this afternoon (92).
The Likes of Which May Never Be Seen Again
We traveled back to the Seventies with our next two flights, beginning with the 1979 Petrus. Clearly, we were in younger territory, as well as a more serious category of vintage. Its nose was a bit oceanic, and chocolate was there along with tropical purple. While deep and dark, its fruit was ‘deprived and very dry,’ per The Hedonist, and he was right, particularly in the middle and backside of the palate (88).
The 1978 Petrus was mildewy with a touch of cardboard and redder fruits. While its palate was lusher and more purple, the cardboard stayed, although the wine wasn’t corked. While pleasant and ‘more tannic,’ it was ‘long yet flat.’ Rainwater was present on its palate (90).
The 1976 Petrus also had some cardboard without being corked, and it was minerally, dusty and zippy. It was broad-shouldered with its black fruits in the nose, and deep with its purple fruit on the palate. It was a big wine, and surprisingly the best of the trio we just sampled (92).
The Redheads of Petrus
The 1975 Petrus just slaughtered everything so far on this afternoon. We were clearly in a different, and much better, category of wine, with tons of breed. While a touch shy, there were fresh garden aromas and a deep, seductive minerality here. The palate was rich and decadent, and its acidity stellar. Brooding, big and classic, this was a beautiful monster, one whose acidity kept getting noticed more with each sip. James admired its ‘rough velvet.’ Despite this being a big and monstrous Petrus, the wine still had a delicacy that tickled me. It had a tight and taut personality like a good corset, and it rolled off my tongue like words in a good book (96+).
Unfortunately, the 1971 Petrus was completely (DQ). It was corked beyond repair, unnatural selection at its worst. All things considered, no one could complain given the condition of this collection so far.
The 1970 Petrus was another great Petrus. The 1975 and 1970 are probably the two best values for great Petrus in the market today. It blows my mind when people pay the same price for 2006 etc, as they do for these vintages. Hellllooooooooooo! The 1970 was stony and muscular, with a broader palate and noticeably more oak, but not in a bad way. The Hedonist admired its ‘great purity and definition.’ I was loving this wine, another beautiful monster that was big and rich, a wine that got bigger and more massive with each sip (97).
Anaconda!
The last wine of this flight segued to the Sixties, that being a 1966 Petrus. There was more menthol to its fruit, and its acidity pronounced itself ably on the nose. Olives were also there, as well as on the palate. James noted, ‘hazelnuts and dried meats, bacon.’ There were nice flavors of earth, bacon and black fruit in this outstanding Petrus (95).
The next three flights saw more off bottles than the first three-quarters of the weekend, which was a small bummer, but they also made everyone see the Petrus light shine as brightly as possible. No one was unhappy; in fact, we were all giddy by the end with admiration, more like adoration. One can only hope that 1989-2009 will equal what happened at Petrus from 1945-1966, one can only hope. Every wine with one or two exceptions was incredible from here on out, not counting those off bottles, of course.
The 1967 Petrus was an appropriate warmup for the greatness that would follow. It had a beautifully chocolaty nose and an elegant, feminine style. There was garden all over the place, along with light plum. The palate was round, supple and elegant. This was a vintage that was ready to go, and I was ready to take it there (93).
The 1964 Petrus was the first cooked bottle, as opposed to being corked. It just wasn’t right (DQ).
The 1962 Petrus was ‘gorgeous’ per James; it was another beautiful and elegant Petrus, but it also had stuffing. The Hedonist found it to be a shadow of 1983. I found it a bit more seductive, with depth and lots of red and purple fruit. There was a lot going on on the palate, ‘very complex’ per The Hedonist. Can I use the word ‘on’ consecutively, by the way? There was a sweet core on the palate, which was a bit candied, in a delightful way (95).
Low and behold, the 1961 Petrus. It had been a while since I had had this legendary wine. I will never forget the one I had at Bipin’s super tasting about ten years ago, where I had four 99-point 1961 Pomerol experiences from Bipin’s longstanding collection. It was great to see it live up to that reputation yet again. This was a ‘wow’ nose, deeper and more complex than anything else we had encountered so far. Its fruit was black as midnight, and it got another ‘wow’ from The Hedonist. It was so deep and complex in the nose, with oil, forest and menthol aromas. The ’61 just stayed in my mouth forever. It was so fresh, I could see it lasting another fifty years easily. Rich, thick and incroyable, this was as delicious as it gets, and ultimately most everyone’s wine of the weekend (99).
Star Bright
The ’61 would have been an appropriate end to the weekend, but we had two flights and eight wines to go, and they were all from the Fifties and Forties. That’s my kind of math.
The 1959 Petrus showed a yeastier side of Petrus, along with aromas of earth, mint and chocolate sex. There were some pinches of carob sprinkled on top. The palate was like wealth that didn’t have to work for it; it was so natural and effortless. Someone remarked how the ’59 had ‘a lot of cleavage,’ and it sure did. 1959 Pomerols have never lived up to the Left Bank when it comes to this vintage’s reputation, but the ’59 Petrus was plentiful and in the category of elite wines from this elite vintage (96).
1955 was an extraordinary Pomerol vintage, but this bottle of 1955 Petrus was not extraordinary. I mean, one could still appreciate that it was an outstanding wine, but it was affected and not perfect. It was rich and stemmy, but ‘pruny’ per The Mogul. It was chocolaty, citrusy and woodsy, and I was able to get to a good place with it, and its acidity lingered well. I hope I get to taste a flawless bottle of this wine again (95+A).
The 1953 Petrus had a nose full of hay, vitamins and exotic fruit. It was another for the elegant and beautiful category. It wasn’t as obvious as most ’53s are at this point, and it had nice poise. Roman found this curious ‘plastic poly spray’ element in the nose (94).
The 1952 Petrus was another completely corked bottle, beyond repair. That was too bad, because 1952 is a killer Right Bank vintage that can complete with the best of them (DQ).
There was one last flight for this legendary event, and it was four vintages from arguably the greatest five year stretch in wine history. The 1949 Petrus was great, old wine – still fresh yet lovingly mature. The nose kept changing, evolving like greatness. Mint, dust, dried red flowers and old books were present in the nose. This was a chameleon of a nose, as its sumptuous and tender personality went into phases of dust, wheat and caraway before returning to mint. It was another wealthy wine, with black and purple fruit flavors along with wheat and whey. Its acidity reminded me of 1995 and 1998, and the wine stayed tasty to the last drop (98).
The Mogul found the 1948 Petrus stemmy at the beginning, and it was also a bit volatile with its vitamin and bathwater aromas. The wine was still tasty, even with some cobwebs in there. It had a nice citrus pinch, and it lingered longingly. There was a touch of plastic here, too, but its overt coconuttiness sent that plastic packing in its wallet, for further use abroad (94).
There were two vintages left, and Petrus ‘ two most legendary ones at that. It was time for a 1947 vs. 1945 smackdown, UFC style. The 1947 Petrus was ready to rumble, dancing from the opening bell, or as The Hedonist put it, ‘Staying Alive.’ Its nose was so open and forward, with some grass and some green. Incredibly extroverted, the ’47 was rocking and rolling like Led Zeppelin on tour in the ’70s. The palate was rich, round and oily with hot acidity. This was a wild and crazy wine, and its green blew off into creamy and rich caramel. Rich and decadent, The Hedonist had finally found home in this hedonistic 1947 (98).
The 1945 Petrus lost this battle, even though the best bottle of this that I have ever had is the better wine. It all comes down to the bottle, any given Sunday. The ’45 was still significantly great, but a bit affected. There was a touch of heat to the nose. This was a wealthy wine that didn’t want to spend it. Its palate was rich, heavy and expansive with a long and gritty finish. One found it ‘stewy,’ and it was gamy and volatile (96A).
Legends of the Fall
Our Hamptons auction was right after this event, and while I’m not even sure I have ever been drunk walking into an auction, (I usually do my best drinking at the auction itself), I can safely say that I have never been more drunk walking into an auction than for this one lol. I didn’t exactly hammer down as much as usual that night, but thankfully Truly and Samantha picked up the slack. There are many great Bordeaux, but I have to say that Chateau Petrus is the fairest of them all. In today’s retail market, price is not always an indicator of quality, but in the auction market, it is, and there is a reason that Petrus is consistently Bordeaux’s most expensive wine. Long live Chateau Petrus.
Man, I need to start writing up the nights where there are four, six or eight wines more often. I would get a lot more articles done that way, although I have been tweeting notes for a lot of those nights, follow me @JohnKapon if you want to get more of those. I think I have at least 400+ new wine notes on Twitter from this past year alone, but I digress. ..
One of my signature moves is to write up two parts of a three part tasting and let part three slip into the lost tasting files, but not this time! This was the Tasting of the Year dagnabbit, and I will finish this! That was my own version of self-motivation, and with the most historical retrospective of Petrus EVER waiting in the wings, I had to pull myself away from those 57 vintages to finish the 37 wines we had on Day Three of the Tasting of the Year.
We began on the windy docks outside in the crisp, cold air with some 1907 Heidseick Gout Americain, the original shipwrecked Champagne. Its color was great, someone needs to start an underwater storage facility . It had an apple-y nose with lots of sweet sugar; of course, the ‘Gout Americain’ was intended to be sweeter to satisfy the tastes of Americans at that time. The palate was also sweet, full of yellow fruits, but the finish had a touch of morning mouth at first. It brushed its teeth and developed into honey and gunsmoke and was long and polished with solid acidity despite being more wine-like than bubbly (94).
The Final Day Begins
We went inside to start with a 1906 Montrose that had an old, oaky nose that was way too much for me in the beginning; it was bordering on sickly and interior wax, but it blew off into the nut and cassis direction. The palate had old flavors of nutty ice cream and caramel kisses to go with wafer and wood. This was a tender, old wine that still had something to say at age 106 (92).
The next wine was served out of magnum, and its nose seduced me immediately. It gave me an impression similar to 1968 Unico with its thick and chunky caramel personality, along with black forest fruits. The palate was much lighter and more its age, which was 1916 btw, and while mild, it was still delightful. The 1916 Brane Cantenac magnum was smooth, lightly gritty and grainy with pepper and leather flavors, but it lightened rapidly in the glass and was a two-minute man, so to speak (90M).
On the Sixes
We changed gears to a flight of whites with a fascinating nose that reminded me of old Bordeaux. The glue jumped out immediately, along with fantastic painted room, honeycomb, musk and a whole stick of butter. It was very complex, and we got a clue – this was the first vintage ever of this wine. The palate was great, full of honey and soft, round and chalky on its finish. There was this touch of askew to the palate, but it was still delicious. SuperSomm noted, ‘caramalized apple,’ and Pekka admired its ‘gentle’ personality. It was a 1920 Pavillon Blanc de Chateau Margaux. Wow, that might have been the last bottle on Earth (94).
Two Thrilling Whites
The second white was equally as fascinating. It had a fresher, more youthful nose compared to the 1920, but it still possessed mature, warm fruit with lots of alcohol and acidity. Someone noted, ‘rubbery,’ while another found it to be an ‘Yquem- style, but not the sweetness.’ Apricot, nut, honey and warm toast were both in the mouth and on the palate, and it was so Yquem, as it should have been because it was a 1968 Ygrec, Yquem’s dry white! This was another delicious white Bordeaux, so viscous, with a hint of benevolent bitters to its finish. We all need to age our white Bordeaux more, as this great wine from a theoretically horrible vintage proved (95).
A couple of sweet wines ended the lunch portion of our program, beginning with a wine that emitted ‘cloudberry and white truffle.’ It was really complex and reminded me of an old Riesling, and there was this almost smoked ham quality to go with citrus and apricot jam. The palate was sweet, oily and creamy, and 98s and 99s were coming from the crowd for this viscous, yet not heavy, white. ‘Fresh peach and raspberry’ came from the crowd. After some time, I determined that it wasn’t Riesling, it wasn’t Sauternes, it was beautiful, satiny and polished, it being a 1921 Bredif Collection Vouvray. Impressive (96).
The next wine wasn’t so impressive. White Port, Madeira, Massandra, Sherry and Vin Santo were all written by me, each followed by ‘ish.’ It was awkward and angular and made me frown when I tasted it; the aromas were much better than its flavors, if you could even call them that. It was a 1910 Leone Bianchi Marsala Vecchio Amabile Riserva. That’s a lot of names for a wine I could call a lot of names. I guess we should keep Marsala for cooking (NR).
The tasting began with an old nose, one that was still really nice, ‘a pleasant surprise’ per Pekka. Despite it clearly being old, it was fresh with vimful acid and rose and blood aromas. Pekka continued that it was ‘the best wine from vintage I have tasted.’ Hmmmm. The palate was a touch metallic on the finish, but that blew off into excellent acidity and citricity. There were big-time tobacco flavors on its hot n spicy palate, and it got leathery with a touch of locker room, pointing me in Italy’s direction. Juha added ‘orange peel’ for this amazing 1902 Luigi Arnuleo Barolo. This was your grandfather’s Barolo lol (93).
The next red was open, aggressive and weedy with lots of coffee aromas. Nonetheless, it was deep and alluring, but a bit nervous like the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. Its soft palate had a flash of lush coffee flavors, a medium-body and a splash of water. Flavors of cereal, caramel and coffee were all present in this 1922 Martinez Lacuesta Rioja Reserva Especial, which got a bit herbal in the glass (91).
Your Grandfather’s Barolo
We were back to Italy with a simple and disappointing 1967 Biondi Santi Brunello Riserva. The nose seduced at first in a shows a little, says a lot way, but its palate was watery, light and uncomplicated. Red fruit, citrus, tomato and leather were all there in average fashion (85).
The fourth wine of this first flight was clearly a big-time Rhone with its citrusy, meaty and peppery nose. There were lots of tangy red fruit aromas, and it was pungent in a great way. The palate was identical with animal, ham and garden joining the party, and it still had excellent acidity. Its rich personality held in the glass as menthol flavors developed. It was a wine from a ‘rustic vintage,’ it being a 1975 Jaboulet Hermitage La Chapelle. Good show (95).
The last wine of the first flight was full of asparagus, which somehow degenerated into Golden Showers in our distinguished group. Its exotic, wild nose had grilled pea shoots and pheromones running around, and Super Mario noted ‘more vegetal qualities’ while Juha noted ‘candy.’ There were milky flavors and ‘Asian action’ on the palate, which had me leaning towards something South African. The palate became quite herbal, and asparagus took over there as well in this interesting 1979 Wynn’s Coonawarra Estate Cabernet Sauvignon (90).
The next flight was ‘the first vintage flight,’ meaning every wine tasted was its first vintage, pretty cool. Unfortunately, the 1968 Sassicaia was cooked and (DQ).
The next wine would ultimately prove to be my wine of the weekend. While I am not one who drinks Rhone wines regularly enough to be called a ‘lover,’ I have fallen in love with the 1966 Guigal Cote-Rotie La Mouline, seeing it defeat some of the greatest Burgundies and Bordeaux in battle time and time again. I believe this is the fifth time I have had this wine, and it has never been less than glorious. Its sexy nose dripped with mint, violet and bacon, which signaled the Rhone direction right away. Everything about this wine was spectacular – its richness, balance and acidity were all practically perfect. Hints of licorice emerged on the palate, giving it just the right twist. I couldn’t stop drinking it until it was sadly gone. It is definitely a candidate for my Top Ten wines of all time (99).
The First Vintage Flight
The next wine had me guessing La Turque, but it was far from it. Its deep, heavy nose had lots of black fruits and a touch of gingerbread. Its palate was round, fat and inky but also flabby, with nice cherry flavors on its finish. This was a 1985 Ornellaia (91).
I think the La Mouline took over my senses for a few minutes, as I was then convinced that the next wine was La Turque as well, 1985 of course. The nose was pepper city, and its palate was chunky, rich and long. SuperSomm noted ‘so licorice’ and ‘green vegetal,’ and I noted a moldy confectioners quality. I was stunned to learn this was a 1988 Dalla Valle Maya! ‘Impressive, but doesn’t compute,’ ended my note (93).
For the final wine in this first vintage flight, my tastebuds recalibrated, as I guessed Italian, and it was, a 1988 Il Caberlot. I think this wine had a special significance for Pekka, but I can’t recall. The Caberlot was very leathery, with tasty caramel flavors and a gritty, rocky, minerally finish (92).
The next flight got serious with a trio of big-time Bordeaux, starting with a 1937 Ausone that was reconditioned in 2000 at the Chateau. Bacon fat jumped out of the nose, more on the lard side. This was a bit of a dirty birdie, in a good way. Aromas of wheat, oats, chocolate and horse intertwined in a complicated yet beautiful way. Juha noted, ‘rosemary focaccia,’ and the ’37 was smooth, long, full and elegant all at once. Batman found it to be ‘a British wine,’ while the CFO noted, ‘tobacco.’ It was a good job of reconditioning, even though everyone knows I always prefer the original. I am sure that twelve years of extra bottle age definitely helped its natural, mature qualities to come back to the forefront (94).
A Fab Five
I guessed the next wine to be 1961 Latour, but it was a glorious 1953 Lafite Rothschild instead I can live with that . It had a deep, intoxicating nose, one that Bordeaux dreams are made of. There was impressive power and t ‘n a here, which is why I thought it was the ’61 Latour. Juha hailed it as ‘so aristocratic’ and ‘complete.’ Its cedar flavors were divine on its gritty palate, which also had this slaty grind to it. Dry, old cassis balanced the cedar perfectly in this great bottle. The most interesting fact shared about this legendary vintage for Lafite was that the Chateau bottled over the course of a year, leading to possible bottle variation (98).
The next wine was actually decanted four hours prior, which possibly affected its score. I understand the theory behind lots of air to make a wine ‘open,’ but it also softens a wine where its intensity factor can be compromised. I would rather decant an old wine repeatedly over and over if it needs more air time as opposed to keeping it open that long, but that’s just me. Pekka found it, ‘so thick.’ It was almost disdainfully nutty, along with aromas of wheat, cereal, chocolate and a pinch of port. The palate was thick, rich, oily and gritty, chock full of sparkle. Other comments for this 1962 Vega Sicilia Unico included, ‘not ready yet,’ ‘tannins puckering,’ and ‘not as complete.’ I couldn’t help but wonder if I would have given it a point higher if it had a little less air time, as usually this wine has me around 95 points (94).
Batman was all over the ‘melted butter’ in the next wine. It had a wow nose, rich and ‘Montrachet good,’ per Juha. It was almost toxically good, and the palate didn’t disappoint either, producing a tasty, rich and heavy rock n’ roll experience. I was waiting for the 1961 Latour to show up, Pekka’s #1 wine of all-time, one that he’s had over 100 times. That’s sexy and I know it (96).
The last wine in this stellar flight was a 1972 Penfolds Grange It had ‘a Syrah feeling but not Rhone,’ someone noted, along with ‘ripe blueberry’ and ‘salt licorice.’ It had a bacony, minty nose, and while it was a bit Rhony, it was more concentrated, possessing a sweet red cherry and eucalyptus two-step. It gained in the glass (94).
The final flight of the last tasting portion of our program began with a wine that had a ‘cabbage-y’ nose per SuperSomm. There was also some mildew and cork, and almost a touch of botrytis. There was a sweet core behind its mildew qualities, and bandaids joined the program. The palate was nice, with lingering acid, ‘gorgeous’ per one, possessing ‘bird milk’ per Juha. I tried to think if I had ever had bird milk. Wait a second, do birds even produce milk? The 1938 Clos des Lambrayswas excellent despite some handicaps, and it got dirty on the finish, which, of course, always helps a man finish (93).
The Hits Keep Coming
The next wine had a unique, seductive nose with exotic qualities of garden, date, game, yogurt and a red fruit rainbow. There were delicious strawberry flavors and solid acid. This was sweet, sexy shit. I guessed 1970 Rayas, but it was a 1970 Henri Jayer Vosne Romanee, back when the Cros Parantoux was still going in the Vo Ro, I believe. Dirk Diggler said, ‘he wouldn’t but he did.’ Not sure the context anymore, but I found it important enough to write down, so there you go (95).
A bottle of 1974 Heitz Martha’s Vineyard Cabernet Sauvignon was much better than the magnum I had had a couple months prior, and this bottle came apparently direct from Heitz. This was a classic and what this wine is all about with its mint and chocolate 1947 Mouton character. Asphalt and eucalyptus flavors combined on its rich, heavy palate. When it gets this old, it’s all about the bottle (96).
The next wine was a 1989 Haut Brion, which was incredible as always. I have written up the greatness of this wine so many times, I only found it necessary to write ‘what else is new?’ Juha added, ‘hot stones from a dry season’ (98).
And so ended the last tasting portion of our program, and so began the dinner and final chapter of this legendary weekend. But first, we had a magnum of 1964 Salon, which had a great nose fill of white sugar, butter, ice and diamonds. The front palate was pure and clean with caramel flavors developing, but its finish was a bit yeasty with morning mouth. Was it a kiss oxidized? Something was off, unfortunately, and despite the color, nose and attack being outstanding, something was amiss at the end (94A-M).
Dinner began with a ‘young Sauvignon Blanc,’ but although it was Sauv Blanc, it wasn’t that young, at least for the grape. Aromas of grass, grapefruit, cat’s pee, gooseberry and rye bread were all present in this pungent white. The palate had sweet pineapple and passionfruit flavors and a ripe and racy finish. This was a pure and tropical wine that was impressively fresh, given the fact that it was a 1999 Cloudy Bay Sauvignon Blanc (92).
The next two whites were cross dressers, as I thought the first was Burgundy and the second Rhone, and it was the exact opposite! The first of the two whites had old notes of mature wood, cobwebs, butter and milk in its nose. The palate had nice richness, with tasty and creamy cantaloupe flavors, along with solid acidity. This 1989 Jaboulet Hermitage Blanc Chevalier de Sterimberg was buttery, gamy and fully mature, seemingly older than it was, but liked by me nonetheless (93).
The 1984 Lafon Meursault Charmes had an exotic Rhone-like nose with candle and beeswax, glue, kinked fruit and game. The palate was meaty and oily, with ‘dry brass’ and ‘old hay’ flavors per Super Mario. Its game flavors were great, and while it was missing a bit of acidity, this Rhone impostor from a terrible vintage was quite good and still playing its song (93).
There was one more white, and it had honeyed nose that was musky and perfumed. There was eskimo action here that made me want to snuggle in an igloo, and great fruit that got more complicated. The palate was sweet and tropical, clean and citrusy, ‘viscous’ per SuperSomm, along with asparagus flavors and a minerally finish. Petrol started to dominate in this 1957 Gobelsburg Gruner Veltiner Private Reserve (93).
The next wine was Pekka’s epiphany wine, the 1984 Caymus Cabernet Special Select. I believe he was doing a photo shoot for Mick Jagger, and Mick was drinking it and shared a glass with him. The rest is wine history! It’s amazing how one moment can change the course of someone’s life, and Pekka received his personal emotional rescue from the big guy himself. The nose was all about the caramel, with that asphalt edge of Cali Cab, while the palate was rich and sweet, with grapy, caramel flavors (92M).
Pekka Gets Some Satisfaction
Finally, we landed in RC territory. I was beginning to think it was going to be excluded from the weekend, but I should have known better. The 1955 DRC Romanee Conti had autumnal aromas of rust, truffle and a sweet, brown core. There were tasty ice cream flavors along with wormy, tree bark ones. ‘Nice juice,’ came from the crowd, and this flirty Pinot was arguably a touch advanced, but it wouldn’t let you know it once you closed your eyes and opened your mouth. Tasty and balanced, its acid came out of hiding and lifted into a great, energetic finish (96+).
The next wine was a stunningly and surprisingly good 1999 Rousseau Clos de la Roche. This is a wine that people basically ignore in the Rousseau portfolio, and after one sip of this 1999, I have no good reason why that is! This was pure 1999 at its best with perfume and cherry sex appeal going with loads of vitamin as well. There were oceans of concentrated fruit in this oily and sexy now wine with great pitch and substance. This was absolutely delicious, although it did lose a step or two in the glass over time. This was still a wow wine for me (94).
The 1994 Screaming Eaglecaused a bit of controversy, with Dirk Diggler giving it 84 points and saying, ‘this Screaming Animal is so disgusting.’ Yikes! I think that was a bit extreme, and everyone certainly didn’t agree, myself included. It had a nice, balanced nose with caramel, boysenberry, asphalt, spice and a blue streak of fruit. ‘Over ripe’ and ‘port’ came from the crowd, and it was what it was – a ripe Napa cab with sweet, fleshy flavors. It lacked a bit of nuance on the palate (93).
And that was the last red wine of the weekend, but there were still some bubblies and sweeties to go. A 1996 Krug Clos du Mesnilhad aromas of vanilla cream, toast and yellow ice cream. There were straw and hay flavors, along with vanilla, and ‘wow’ and ‘wonderful’ came from the crowd. It was a bit more approachable than most memories that I have of this legend, but I wasn’t complaining (97+).
Champagne Dreams
I thought the 1998 Bollinger Vieilles Vignes Francaises was a Clos des Goisses, oh well. It was long and zippy, fresh and citrusy with nice tang. There were snowcapped vitamin flavors in this excellent yet young bubbly. The great Champagnes are better to drink when 1996 and older, for now (93).
Five dessert wines to go. I think I can, I think I can. The first was a touch oxidized, but it was supposed to be as it was a 1904 Arbois Vin Jaune from the Jura, which makes oxidized styles of wine to begin with. The flavors were dry and awkward, varying from lanolin to morning mouth to sherry to Comte cheese. Pucker up and blow lol (82).
A 1939 Massandra White Muscatis about as good a Massandra as I can remember. Aromas of chamomile and honey were lush and so sweet, and its oily texture gave off a hedonistic vibe. Someone noted, ‘Cantonese chicken with bamboo’ in this wild wine (95).
The 1903 Oliveiras Madeira Boal Rservaat first reminded me of sniffing glue or rubber cement, but tea took over. There was crazy power in this Hugo Chavez of a wine. It was powerful with thundering acidity, and sweet chocolate flavors rounded it out well. Who was I kidding? Nothing could round this out; its power and acidity were next level. Of all the dessert wines, Madeira is probably my favorite (96).
Was the next port? But it smelled almost like a cognac. There was lots of acid and a touch of mint in this semi-sickly ‘oil painting’ of a wine. It was a 1912 Niepoort Colheita Port (91).
SuperSomm got up and called the weekend ‘an act of humanity’ and how great it was to share history together. It was a nice speech, but we told him to sit his ass down because the 1900 Yquem was coming. Aromas of candlewax, cobweb, butterball and dry toffee were all present in this ‘elegant’ Yquem. There wasn’t too much of anything in this rather restrained Sauternes, and its lovely balance had some finding it fantastic. It wasn’t too sweet, and perhaps it suffered being served after the Madeiras and Ports and such, but it was still excellent (93).
1900 Yquem Closer of the Year
It was a weekend that I will never forget, one I will take with me to the end of my time here. That is the greatness of fine wine, to give memories that last a lifetime, associations of friends and places that will never be forgotten. Many thanks to Pekka for a most memorable weekend; if only you could turn 50 every year.
Day Two of the Tasting of the Year began quietly with a 1976 Krug, following an oxidized 1962 I believe. The nose on the Krug was lightly toasty with golden fruit, wafer, sugar and light petillance. The palate was creamy and tasty but on the mature side for a 1976. There were some comments about 1976 starting to turn the corner for Champagne (93).
Lunch was served first, and I was torn between White Bordeaux and Riesling for our first white wine. There was peach, petrol and wood for sure, but a gaseous element started to take over. There were also layers of lychee and lemon along with white forest. The palate was delicious, ‘fantastic’ to one. There was great balance in this long and elegant white, along with nice petrol flavors. It was more bitter after food, and SuperMario added ‘wet sea shell and orange blossom’ for the 1976 Hugel Riesling VT (93).
Hard at Work
A 1979 Trimbach Riesling Cuvee Frederic Emile was surprisingly bad. There was less petrol here and more forest along with sunned, yellow fruit. Mild and reserved, its palate was very dry and austere with glue flavors and no fruit. I thought it was a white Bordeaux, but this Riesling made me frown, and Juha added ‘too chalky’ (NR).
A 1992 Trimbach Riesling Clos Ste. Hune restored the reputation of the esteemed house of Trimbach. Its nose was a bit sweeter, again possessing petrol but also with some white Burgundy edges. There was nice richness and balance in this oily and viscous Clos Ste. Hune. Some food made it more citrusy, and it had great, lingering acidity (93).
White Lightning
The reds began with an obscure yet ‘famous’ wine, per Pekka. Batman was on the case with ‘high acidity,’ definitely placing it outside the Bordeaux camp. I got cedar, chocolate and cassis, but who was I to question Batman? The palate definitely wasn’t Bordeaux, Nebbiolo I questioned? In a roundabout way, the wine was a combination of my instincts. There were earthy and chocolaty flavors along with sweet and sour cherry, and a dry, leathery finish. Someone observed ‘bitter dark chocolate,’ and Chianti was my last guess for this 1986 Isole E Olena Collexione di Marche Cabernet Sauvignon. I think it won some major tasting years that Pekka held years ago, but time had passed this wine by now, I guess. It was still good with nice acidity (90).
The nose on the second red reminded me of a Rhone wine, but it was deeper and more concentrated than the average one. Cuvee Cathleen crossed my mind. Its palate was big, beefy and roasted with a kiss of earth and a long, concentrated and smoky finish. Guesses were all over, including Italy. The wine was meaty and nutty and finished well with caramel kisses. It was a 1991 Pesquera Ribera del Duero Cuvee Janus. Someone said that Janus was a two-faced god who looked to the past and future at the same time. Deep (93).
The last two wines with lunch were paired with dessert, and the first had an apple cider nose that was quite exotic and noticeably different than any of the wines already served this weekend. It reminded me of Amarone on the palate, but it didn’t seem sweet enough. I was thinking it might have been 1990 Bonneau Cuvee Speciale actually, but this classy 1991 Quintarelli Amarone was drier than expected (92).
Pesquera & Isole & Olena & Quintarelli
I didn’t take a note for the Madeira Malvasia Velha bottled in 1954, as I didn’t want the sugar here to affect my palate after lunch. There was the tasting, after all.
We were back in the other room for the tasting portion of our Saturday marathon, and a magnum of 1976 Philipponat Champagne Clos des Goisses welcomed us to the second act of our day. I guessed Clos des Goisses, as I find its style easy to identify, at least the style of its recently disgorged bottles. This magnum was disgorged only two months prior, and Champagnes need much more time in the bottle after disgorgement to get the mature aromas and flavors out of them, at least in my opinion. The Goisses was grassy and fresh, pungent and vivacious with oodles of zip. It was a touch too grassy for me, and Juha noted ‘coffee’ (92+M).
The official first flight began with a forward and volatile wine. Aromas of hot tobacco, pungent rose and squashed tomato were joined by ‘balsamic’ and ‘dill’ from the crowd. The palate was lush and round with ripe, red, tangy flavors. Tomato and Worcestershire were present in this gamy, wild and exciting wine. It got a little orangey with some apricot jam, but it could do whatever it wanted as it was a 1960 DRC La Tache. This was impressive for a theoretically shit vintage; I don’t think I have ever even had a wine from 1960. Bucket list now shorter (93).
The second wine had a bit of sea breeze on top of peanut, along with chocolate and cabinet rack spice. The palate was round and spicy on the front and still spicy on its backside. More chocolate was on the palate, along with a touch of forest and nice citrus. It was very dry, clearly powerful and long. Juha guessed Spain, but Batman nailed it with Italy. There was high pitch and excellent acidity in this leathery 1969 Giacomo Conterno Barolo Monfortino Riserva (94).
Bucket List Just Got Shorter
My biggest misfire of the weekend was when I convinced myself the next wine was a 1982 Bordeaux. It was a 1944 Vega Sicilia Unico lol. The wine was elegant and creamy, sensual with its nut, cassis, plum, cedar, smoke, pencil…’all the classics,’ I wrote . The stewy rhubarb, along with the ‘green oats,’ should have sent me elsewhere. This super fresh bottle was very dry, and very flamboyant (94).
I was convinced the 1997 Solaia was the 1997 Harlan. The nose was roasted coffee, asphalt, tar and melted chocolate. The palate was rich and long with nice expression of its tannins. It was hedonistic yet reined in stylistically. Batman found it ‘impressive but not my style. Difficult to like.’ I understood his point, as the modernish qualities of the Solaia seemed out of place, but it was difficult not to respect the wine, even if it was too soon and not the right place (94+).
Not Your Average 1982 Bordeaux
Here was the 1982 Bordeaux, and it was a 1982 Leoville Las Cases. This wine has plummeted in value, making it practically half-price and a great buy in the market right now, as this bottle showed. It was elegant and young, with a feminine, musky and nutty nose. Dried herbs and green bean delicately danced about in this ‘very silky’ wine. It had a long and expressive finish, and I thought it was a Pichon Lalande at first, one of the great early drinkers from this vintage. Nice show (95).
Getting Hectic
The first wine of the second flight had an exciting nose that was sexy, musky and full of tomato. There was this volatile Burgundy edge to it in that goody goody bloody bloody mary tangy way. The palate was delicious and extraordinary at first sip, but there were some awkward edges on its finishing flavors, and the wine quickly went the wrong way in the glass, falling apart. It is a difficult question as to what to score a wine like this, this 1911 Colcombet Musigny. Its initial impression flashed much higher potential, but it didn’t last long (90?).
The next wine was a corked 1915 Hospices de Beaune, Corton from someone you’ve never heard about, so good thing I don’t need that information since it was corked. The plastic wrap thing didn’t work or help either (DQ).
Almost Too Sexy
A nutty nose that was deep, heavy and rich had an oaky streak to it that I was hoping would blow off. The palate was more oaky, making this not my cup of tea. The oak eventually blew off, and this 1924 Margaux was pretty and fragrant (90).
A 1928 Smith Haut Lafitte was the definition of doctored. ‘Funny’ and ‘cheap candy’ came from the crowd. This was a wild and kinky wine, although I am not sure I could call it even that. There was nice definition to this reconditioned gone wild Bordeaux. The best way I could describe it is sour candy city with a touch of bathroom sex where the girl is sucking on sour apple and watermelon jolly ranchers at the same time. Amongst other things. The funny thing about it was that was exactly it (90?).
The 1905 Louis Jadot Charmes Chambertin was breathtaking wine, a veritable secret agent of the wine world, as its complex aromas and flavors touched many parts of the globe. Hints of Italy, Spain and the Rhone were all there; let’s hope figuratively. Its sweet nose was ripe and red, and its saucy palate was full of coffee flavors. It was ripe, rich and exciting, lush and oily with impressive acidity. Its flavors became more nutty and caramel-y in the glass, and this wine was good to the last drop. This was one of my wines of the weekend (96+).
I generally love old Cvnes, but this 1951 Cvne Rioja Vina Imperial didn’t excite me as much as usual. There was this raw poultry aroma at first, but thankfully the nose got beyond that and opened into light citrus, wafer and street corner. Someone noted, ‘bloody steak’ (91).
The 1971 Gaja Sori Tilden was about as great an old bottle of Gaja that I have ever had. I can only think of a 1961 Barbaresco sampled fifteen years ago in the same arena. While the nose was volatile at first with a touch of bad breath, it blossomed into a musky, mahogany core. The wine was delicious and classic in many regards, as it had me thinking everything from 1951 BV Private Reserve (a legendary classic Cali) to Burgundy and home to Italy. There was a length and structure here that the other wines in this flight didn’t have, until the last one, at least (96).
I was ultimately surprised how good the 1973 Mouton Rothschild was. I was thinking 1971 Pomerol at first, as there was plump plum and nut aromas happening in its classy nose. The palate had garden and plum flavors, and while there was some greeny drama, this was an excellent and exceptional wine given the vintage. The magic of Picasso continues (Picasso designed the ‘artist’ label in 1973 for Mouton) (93).
Line ‘Em Up
The 1975 Lafleur was black as midnight, so concentrated and rich. It was ‘a tannic pucker’ as one commented. Secondary aromas of leather, tar and mint gave way to flavors of tobacco, plum and more leather. Monstrously tight, it was hailed as ‘a voluptuous virgin,’ with decadent cherry flavors slowly emerging. This will be thrilling wine for decades to come. This was another wine of the weekend (96+).
A new flight turned out to have two of the weekend’s most legendary wines, even though neither made it into my weekend’s top wines. The first wines was another Cune, this time being a 1933 Cvne Rioja Vina Real. Again I was disappointed, as there was a metallic nose, with some Burgish fruit behind it. Suprisingly, it was Dirk Diggler’s favorite wine of the flight (90).
Don’t ask me how to explain the 1945 Chateau de Vosne Romanee Musigny. I can tell you there were aromas of garden, beef blood, iodine and mature Burgundy kink, with a wet kiss of volatility. The flavors were rich and sweet with orange, apricot, game and tang. Its acid lingered. The ‘sweetness of 1929’ was guessed, while ‘strawberry and rhubarb’ were noted. It was an excellent wine, although the mere existence of this wine seems counterintuitive (94).
There were lots of oohs and aahs for the next wine and its deep, chocolaty and motor oil nose. And why shouldn’t there be? It was a 1929 Petrus, after all. There was some fig to its molasses, and a 1947 Cheval-ish personality to this ‘very sweet’ wine. Its sweetness was actually the one thing holding it back a point or two (95).
Big Time Flight
The next wine was another super-concentrated wine that was earthy and a touch dirty in that diaper and band-aid direction. There were black fruits, and its dirty started becoming a good, nightclub dirty. The palate was rich and concentrated, a heavy wine with an ocean of fruit and penetrating acid. It was another wine of the century, a 1947 Cheval Blanc. It was also a reconditioned bottle. The wine was outstanding, but I remain convinced that this wine was at its best a little more than a decade ago (95).
I was convinced into believing the 1987 Gaja Sori San Lorenzo was a Cali Cab, even though my first instinct was Italy. Dangit! It was solid and leathery, dry and impressive for a vintage I have never seen or heard much about in Italy (93).
The notes started to fade, and the next flight was one of Port, beginning with a 1908 Warre’s Vintage Port that looked like a white port and perhaps was suffering a little bottle sickness. But for 104 years old, it got a round of applause (90).
I can’t tell you much about a 1917 Borges Soaltheira Vineyard Vintage Port except that I gave it (93).
I can tell you that the 1931 Niepoort Garrafeira Port was thrilling. It spent six years in wood before being bottled in 1938 in demi-john bottles, before being decanted into normal bottles in 1979. It was one of the best ports I have ever had, full of caramel and pepper, delicious yet most importantly smooth. The secret of the Garrafeira style is one that needs to be shared with the majority of the wine world! Thanks to Dirk Niepoort for this memorable experience. He was also the only winemaker in attendance (97).
A 1963 Cockburn’s Vintage Port was a bit young and sweet by comparison (91).
All I can tell you about the 1980 Quinto do Noval Vintage Port is that it was the best port from this obscure vintage (92).
Dinner started with a couple of less spectacular than usual Cristals. The 1979 Roederer Cristal had a grassy nose with white n yellow sugared fruit. It was a bit Dom-ish and Oeno-ish which is not the usual Cristal style. Still excellent, this is usually superior (94).
A 1989 Roederer Cristal Rose was a touch advanced and bretty. There was strawberry and citrus to its zippy fruit, but this was an off-bottle (92A).
A 1989 Roederer Cristal Rose was a touch advanced and bretty. There was strawberry and citrus to its zippy fruit, but this was an off-bottle (92A).
Cris-Crossed
The first, official flight was still Champagne, beginning with a 1926 Philipponat Demi-Sec Royale Reserve. This was the sweetest Champagne that I’ve ever had. It was caramel city with its smooth, browned flavors. It was balanced and mature to the brink but without being oxidized; it was an age thing. ‘So sweet’ and ‘mushroomy’ summed it up (92).
The color of the next Champagne was quite brown, but it had a more youthful personality than the 1926. It was grassy and full of straw and honey flavors with a coconutty finish. The finish was a touch oaky in this miraculous 1913 Mumm’s Cordon Rouge. It tasted three decades younger(93).
Bubbles!
A 1932 Veuve Clicquot had things like ‘pickled jalapeno’ and ‘leather couch.’ This was like a dry fino, and its overly tangy and bretty personality made me (DQ) it.
I guess the whole flight wasn’t Champagne, as we had a red sparkler, ‘Sparkling Shiraz,’ I wrote. It wasn’t bad, and while mature, there was still acidity there. Grapes, raisins and figs were present in this rich and drinkable 1965 Bertani Recioto Valpolicella Valpantena Riserva Spumante Naturale (90).
Unfortunately, a 1949 Dom Perignon was completely oxidized (DQ).
The first flight of whites began a wine that reeked of white Bordeaux. Glue and t n’ a were all over its powerful nose. Fresh paint and wax joined the party, but the palate in this 1981 Smith Haut Lafitte Blanc was austerely similar with some lime and pineapple flavors trying to fight through (89).
The next white was forward and sweet, exotic with its lanolin aromas and something crazy in the guava direction but not quite that, along with banana skin. The palate was semi-unpleasant; full and gamy in that banana peel direction. Dates and stew rounded out the palate, which ultimately disappointed, as I usually love this wine, almost every vintage. It was a 1986 Chave Hermitage Blanc (87).
A Fascinating Flight of Whites
A 1934 Bouchard Corton Blanc had a metallic nose but a powerful palate. It had great acidity, but felt a bit fresh for 1934. It was reconditioned, as most bottles in the Bouchard cellar are. The palate was full of minerals, ice and fat skin, and this was certainly rich and sexy chardonnay that kept getting better and better (95).
The 1991 DRC Montrachet was guava city. It had a minty, Monty style with its big mouthfeel, and Juha noted ‘jasmine flavors.’ It was not the greatest example/vintage of this legendary wine (92).
There was a second flight of whites, and two were no good, starting with a 1942 Les Successeurs de J.M. Garnier Meursault (DQ).
The next wine had a Rhony kink but also had this older, buttery white Burg thing happening. It felt like it had the same top-off of the ’34 Blanc. It wasn’t as good as the ’34, but it was still solid with nice minerals to go with its butter flavors. ‘Tropical,’ ‘mocha’ and ‘roasted’ came from the crowd for this 1926 Leon Christophe Meursault (92).
White Bordeaux was my first guess when it came to the third white in this flight, as there were mature glue aromas, along with honeycomb and a bit of bikini wax. Its palate had lanolin, minerals and dry white fruit flavors, and more honeycomb. It was long, balanced and pretty, and I was impressed by this 1943 Staaterweinguter Steinberger Riesling Auslese. I wrote that it was amazing how Riesling and white Bordeaux flirt with each other after a lot of bottle age (94+).
Ancient Riesling
Unfortunately, a 1958 Haut Brion Blanc was completely oxidized (DQ).
There was only one flight of reds left for the day, and we started with a ‘rocket ship’ of a 1983 Rousseau Chambertin. This bottle was quite vigorous, so much so I thought it might be from 1990. There were great rose, vitamin, perfume, waterfall, mineral and red fruit aromas. This was high-pitched in every which way, and there was citrus and depth to its palate. Its acid uncurled like a cobra, and ‘raspberry smoothie’ and ‘perfect’ came from the crowd. Its saucy finish had the topic of ‘kissemura’ making a comeback. I have had good luck with 1983 Burgs, and this was a fantastic bottle (95).
The 1992 Leroy Richebourg had so much cedar that it almost had me in Bordeaux territory, but the rose, blood and musk said Burgundy. It had a screechy nose, and an even tighter palate, although the wine did open on its finish more. Red citrus flavors were present, and while the wine was big in true Leroy fashion, the vintage’s shortcomings were evident (92).
The next wine had me guessing 1992 or 1994 Cali Cab. Don’t forget, we did know the vintages in each flight without knowing the wines or the order, so it was possible to make some decent deductions here and there. Charcoal and chocolate dominated its aromas, and blueberry and asphalt joined the party on the palate. This was a rich and concentrated wine, deep and heavy, long with excellent acidity. While the 1994 Harlan Estate Cabernet Sauvignon was hailed as a ‘powerful Cali,’ I also found it losing a step in the glass (94).
The next red had a grassier nose, along with band-aid aromas and a dirty birdie quality. The palate was similar to the Harlan with a different flavor profile, and its volume was less in every which way. Flavors of pepper, musk, earth and garrigue finished up this good but less complicated 1995 Chateau de Beaucastel Chateauneuf du Pape Hommage a Jacques Perrin (92).
Powerful Cali
SuperSomm noted ‘a hint of chicken shit’ in 1990 Jaboulet Hermitage La Chapelle. It had a buttery nose with percolating hints of acid, but its palate seemed really evolved and jammy. It was smooth and satiny, but I wanted and expected more from this wine (94).
One last flight of dessert wines? I think I can, I think I can. My notes were brief, apologies. A 1927 Broilo Vin Santo was white porty with a touch of morning mouth but uniquely excellent (93). A 1901 Bruder Gottdiener Ausbruch Imperial Tokaji had superb toffee flavors, ‘so good,’ I wrote. It had a thick and viscous texture (96).A 1927 Taylor’s Vintage Port was classic but not thrilling (94), and a 1936 Massandra Liveria Port was more similar to the Tokaji than the Taylor’s, despite sharing ‘Port’ in its name (94). A 1909 Filhot was disgusting, ‘RED CARD,’ I wrote in big letters. I wasn’t sure if it was the bottle or not, it had to be, so I gave it a (DQ), although it might be a (NR).
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