I recently woke up in Vegas and flew back to New York for dinner, before leaving shortly thereafter for Europe, all in one day. Only a dinner of significant magnitude could make me adhere to such a schedule, and it was a special one, a vertical of Cos d’Estournel back to 1893, including almost all of its most significant vintages. All the more special was the fact that Jean-Guillaume Prats of Cos joined us personally for this dinner; in fact, we had moved the original date to January in order to coordinate with Jean-Guillaume’s schedule.

There is probably only one man in the wine industry who could empathize with the day of which I was in the midst, and that would be Jean-Guillaume. We must be distant cousins, as my middle name is also William. He is a true ambassador for Bordeaux, dare I say ‘the’ ambassador. He knows every country, every city, every market for Bordeaux and has been to them all on multiple occasions. A typical itinerary might be Johannisberg to Dubai to Mumbai to Bangkok in five or six days or something extreme of the sorts. No one is out there like him, seemingly carrying all of Bordeaux on his shoulders.

He has also made significant investments and improvements in his Chateau, which I recently visited in December. It is one of the most breathtaking visits in all of Bordeaux today, a marriage of custom and innovation, impressive being an understatement. He is truly one helping lead Bordeaux into the 21st Century. In case you haven’t noticed, I admire him a lot.

I also admire his wines, speaking of which, the vertical. The first flight was comprised of ‘lesser’ yet fascinating vintages, many of which were far from lesser. We started with the 1933. It had a great nose of lovely, old, mature fruit with aromas of carob, cassis, sweet dust and spice. Its flavors were tender and old, and Bob admired its ‘cedar still coming through.’ Sweet rust flavors lingered lightly on its finish. While its nose was better than the palate, it was quite delightful and still (90) points, by a nose heh heh.

The 1937 was oxidized, even though I could respect the architecture (DQ). All the wines came from one cellar from Northern Europe, a most reliable source of great wines. When wines are old, these things happen, and the only thing to do is move on.

We moved on to the 1942, which Jean-Guillaume found ‘very tannic,’ in a positive way. Bob also admired its ‘structure,’ and its deep, dark fruit got a ‘superb’ as well. There were great nut aromas along with some fresh greens. The palate was rich, medium-bodied and possessed great balance. It was impressive, all the more so considering what was going on in France at the time. It flirted with 95 points (94+).

The 1943 was equally as impressive, ‘similar to the ’42’ as Don observed, but seemingly taking it up a notch with its big, rich personality. I loved its coffee nose, which also had secondary rye aromas. There were great chocolate flavors on its big, rich palate, but as time went on, the ’42 was clearly the ‘43’s equal, if not better. Interestingly enough, the ’43 was preferred by all guests at a 2 to 1 margin, as did I, at first (94).

The 1948 was another excellent nose, more wheaty with some underlying caramel. Old wood exerted itself aromatically. While leaner than the last two, the ’48 was still excellent, also wheaty on its palate. One found it ‘the best with food’ (93).

Jean-Guillaume shared some of his wisdom and perspective about this first flight. ‘The beauty about this flight is that it has nothing to do with how the wines are made today. These were not made by winemakers; they were made by farmers. Many estates were very poorly run, and wine was often a secondary source of income. (The two war vintages) needed time to come around. There was no oak then, only old wood. No one could afford it like today.”

The next flight had five wines, but only three were consumed. Alas, the 1893 and 1926 were oxidized (DQ). With 23 wines on tap, and some special showings already, no one was worried. Ironically, I had had the 1926 almost a year ago exactly from the very same cellar and gave it a respectable (94). It’s old wine, you never know. There’s quite a bit I drink that you never hear about, you know 😉

The 1898 was toasty and elegant, suffering from a bit of sulfur at first, possibly reconditioned. There was lots of popcorn with a touch of honey there, and its palate was medium-bodied, honeyed in a light way, possessing flavors of old red fruits and books. Graceful and gorgeous, it was a setting sun of a wine (92).

The 1911 had a fabulous nose, modest yet stylish. ‘Green tea’ and ‘vegetal’ components were noted, and I found light, dry weeds, cedar, fresh field and a touch of manure, in a good way. The wine was flat out delicious, and while its elegant personality might have been dwarfed a bit by its two bigger bookends, this was the wine of the flight of which I would want to drink a whole bottle first (93).

The 1919 had an oaky nose full of wood, dominated by it. I wondered if this was left in the vat a bit too long, being just after World War I and such. It had good texture, but its flavors came across sickly to me, but it was ‘rich and full.’ There were a lot of 1919 fans over time, however, as it really integrated in the glass and put on weight, developing chocolate flavors and a smoky finish. It stayed woody at its core, though (92).

Jean-Guillaume remarked how 1893 was the earliest harvest ever (in August!) , and then went on to comment how Bordeaux has always been marked by eras of prosperity, followed by the exact opposite. From 1725-1855, Bordeaux struggled to make its way, but after the 1855 classification up until 1870, helped in part by the Paris Expo, Bordeaux became the great wine of the world. From 1870 until 1982, there were two World Wars, and decades such as the 1930s, 1970s and perhaps one or two more where there were no great vintages. From 1982 onwards, ‘great wines were made every year,’ and with 1982 began the age of America, led by the ascension of Robert Parker to the top of the wine critic world, beginning another age of prosperity. That prosperity has continued on until today, except beginning in 2005, the age of China began. It was a fascinating perspective.

The next flight was perhaps the evening’s most fascinating, beginning with the always fascinating comparison of 1928 versus 1929. The 1928 had a big, deep nose and was clearly in a league of its own. There were great, dusty aromas of vanilla and rich berry fruit. Its palate was big and rich, delicious in every which way with long, long acidity. Still young, the 1928 was outstanding stuff, classic and ‘one of the greatest wines of the vintage,’ if he did say so himself :). Comparing the two vintages, Jean-Guillaume continued and admired the ‘freshness of the 1928, but the 1929 is slightly fatter’ (97).

The 1929 was no slouch, either. Jean-Guillaume found the 1929 to be like ‘Pinot Noir,’ and that was an excellent descriptor for its silky, voluptuous style. The nose was incredibly seductive, super forward with its explosive aromatics of chocolate wafer and rosy red fruits. Bill also concurred, ‘more of a Burgundy nose.’ So was the palate! This was a delicious, special wine, round and lush with a kiss of vanilla on the finish that left me wanting more (96).

The 1934 had a minty playfulness to its nose along with sexy spice. Bob found ‘cloves.’ I have always liked ‘34s, even if they were never outstanding, and this was a perfect example. The palate was clean, elegant and fresh, and there were nice dust and earth flavors. Jean-Guillaume found it ‘quite charming with great minerality.’ It was both pleasant and pleasing, ‘good wine,’ as Bob eloquently summed up (93).

The 1947 was thankfully our last oxidized wine of the night (DQ) , and we quickly moved on to the 1952, which had an oaty nose. There was nice cassis there and big volume. The palate had good richness and flesh, and its fruit was still wound. There were excellent tannins still from this tannic vintage, ‘what it is,’ as Jean-Guillaume succinctly put it (93).

The four benchmark vintages of the post World War II era were next, beginning with the 1945, which had another great nose with lovely cherry fruit. There was a decadence to its sweetness, and purple joined the party along with baked bread. The palate was a little lighter than I expected but still nice, possessing dust, citrus and ‘a little cough syrup’ flavors. The 1945 was tasty and got better in the glass but still did not possess the density of many other ‘45s. Jean-Guillaume remarked how 1945 had very low yields due to the war (94).

The 1959 was quite gamy, with aromas of anise and black licorice. There were jammy flavors of overripe plums and fig. I wasn’t sure if this bottle was 100% perfect, and Jean-Guillaume was definitely in the ‘have had a better bottle club’ (92?).

The 1961 had what I call attic and cobweb in the nose, along with a touch of pungent, musky goodness. In the mouth, it was classic yet tender, tasty and long but not spectacular (93).

The 1982, however, was spectacular and unexpectedly stole the show in this flight. This was a great ’82. I remember about six or seven years ago when the ’82 Cos stole the show from the ’82 Mouton in a blind head-to-head, and 1982 Mouton is certainly a great, great wine. It was good to see this vintage still exceeding its so-called bar. The nose was full of smoke, nuts, cassis, wafer, chocolate, vanilla and youth. The palate was big, rich, long and lush, both weighty and heavy yet still agile. Delicious flavors of rich milk chocolate lingered in the mouth, while Jean-Guillaume noted some ‘Indian curry spiciness.’ He concurred that this was a great bottle, putting it in context by calling it ‘a new point in a new cycle’ (97).

The last flight was crowned the ‘Four Horsemen of the Last Decade’ and began, of course, with the 2000. My notes are a bit briefer for this flight, as it was that time of the night. Jean-Guillaume commented that ‘we are starting a new tasting with nothing in common with before.’ The 2000 was classic and clean, young and excellent but a bit less than the usual Cos standard, given the vintage. A bit of windex clouded its overall expression, and Jean-Guillaume conceded that it was the ‘weakest’ of the flight (93).

The 2003 was typically forward and sweet, almost Napa-esque with its sweetness and richness. Lush and delicious, this was rock n’ roll Bordeaux (95).

The 2005 was like a combination of the previous two wines and clearly the most concentrated. I loved its rich, chocolaty palate, which had the best of all words (96+).

The controversial 2009 was deep, sweeter and also chocolaty, and I could see the now famous ‘Harlan’ reference. However, this was still Bordeaux, and it won’t crack up in ten years, that’s for sure. This wine definitely has huge potential, if it can get a breast reduction naturally over time ha ha (95+).

While in general, I tend to prefer 2000 and its more classic style, as far as Cos goes, 2005 is definitely the one, and shows the greatness of that vintage. It has all the characteristics of a truly great vintage. It was ‘the hottest decade in human history,’ Jean-Guillaume noted. What about the upcoming decade? ‘2010 was the driest vintage ever, the vines were stressed from a lack of water (which usually produces great fruit, by the way). It is more 2005 than 2009; there will be extraordinary Pomerols in particular.’

Well, there you have it. It was a great evening featuring wines from a great Chateau that is led by a great man. Who’s on first?

Every New Year’s Eve I find myself in the same place, year after year. No matter where I am in the world, I make sure that I am landing the afternoon of the 31st in New York City. And why wouldn’t I? When the King of Champagne comes calling for an evening of celebration, it is always wise to RSVP accordingly. It is safe to say that no one has opened up more great Champagne for more people than Rob. Maybe Juhlin has tasted more, and that’s a maybe, but I doubt he’s shared his portfolio as openly and effortlessly as the KOC.

Now Big Boy isn’t exactly someone I would call introverted, but trust me when I tell you that’s exactly what you don’t want him to be when you are a guest in his home, on New Year’s Eve especially. I was there early, and some interesting and eclectic non-vintage ”“ make that multi-vintage ”“ Krugs started things off curiously, though not incredibly impressively. A case of halves of multi-vintage from the 1970s was a bit oxidized, bereft of bubbles, although its nose seduced at first. There were warm, inviting caramel and vanilla notes initially that soon waned into a thin palate lacking substance. The thing about multi-vintages is that they can age”¦and be spectacular, as Bruce the Returner reminded me. It’s just that these particular half-bottles weren’t. So I was quickly onto a multi-vintage Krug Rose from the 1980’s. This was delightful, clean and fresh, light yet with an extreme finish. It maintained delicious strawberry dust flavors, and I took a quick refill (93).

A 1966 Bollinger led us into welcome vintage territory, but didn’t make me feel welcome with its simple and one-dimensional palate. It was mature and pleasant in the nose, but another wine that didn’t deliver upon the promise of what it should have/could have been (90?).

The 1966 Billecart Salmon Cuvee Nicolas Francois set our course back on target with an intriguing nose of honey, vanilla and lilac, all deftly woven. There was nice sprite to its palate, with lean, sweet wheat flavors, almost yellow carob. Its finish was lemony, and Olof noted, ‘copper,’ although I wasn’t sure if he was talking about his investment strategy. Big Boy said something about a ten-case parcel, and I think he was talking about his investment strategy lol (94).

Then came the magnums. Everything from here on out was served in magnum or jeroboam. We stayed on route ’66 with a 1966 Louis Roederer Cristal. It was another mature nose, in a heavy white molasses direction and not as expressive as old Cristals usually are. Its palate was more like it, still tasty with orange blossoms, game and a sweet, big, nutty finish. It clearly had the best density of anything so far, and the guy with the five Harleys that Vince McMahon was looking for took off his horns to declare that ‘the ’66 rocks.’ Nonetheless, it was an affected bottle, one that had the most sophisticated palates abuzz with discussion due to its two-sided story (95M-A).

A 1971 Ruinart de Brimont Reserve de Vicomte was the first of our 1971s, as the rest of the evening would only be on the ‘71s and ‘61s. Actually, more ‘ones’ were planned in honor of 2011, but I only made it a little past 2AM. I need to get that report, come to think of it. I wasn’t sure if the Ruinart was a different Ruinart house, as the label was completely different than anything I had seen from Ruinart but apparently Brimont and its vineyards is the ancestral home of Ruinart. However, this was an entry-level vintage Champagne and not the clearly not the ‘tete de Cuvee.’ It had an apple-y nose, and while nice and smooth, it didn’t stand out. Bruce politically hailed it as ‘a good example of a great vintage’ (91M).

The 1971 Dom Perignon began a monster streak of six killer Champagnes in a row from Big Boy, much like Derek Jeter delivers during World Series. Rob added six runs scored and twelve RBIs on top with the array that followed. The DP was classic with its sugary, vanilla wafer nose. It was rich and delicious, full of granulated sugar flavors to the point where I thought about it making one heck of a Bollini Royale or whatever mixed drinks they make with bubbly. I happen to always drink it straight, so I don’t really know these things. Although a touch sweet, all in all, it was outstanding (95M).

The 1971 Dom Perignon Rose was an ‘infant’ per Lady Agah, the artist formerly known as the Angry Chick. It’s 2011, time to reinvent yourself, in case you didn’t get the memo. The DP Rose had wet earth aromas with light strawberry ones to match, both deep and coiled, seemingly ready to strike. Its palate was huge with ‘insane’ structure, with enough acidity for a college university chemistry program. Dry and powerful, this was a perfect bottle of this wine, taking off like a rocket ship on its jet-fueled finish. There were gorgeous flavors unfolding as it opened, particularly in the red and rose direction, with more earth as well. Lady Agah continued, ‘it’s like a red wine,’ paying its density and structure a compliment. It was a beautiful monster, indeed. I’m sure its score will improve with time, but it’s just not quite there yet, there being ‘best ever’ and 97 points and up (96+M).

The magnum of 1971 Krug Collection answered the bell swinging, and was already there with a signature nose of mountainous, sweet and complex vanilla aromas. Super sexy white fruits and nuts provided the landscape on which they sat. The palate was another huge one, with big, rich and ‘wondrous’ fruit. Massive and long, its buttery fruit was just starting to show some skin in the mouth, and the skin wasn’t soft, but damn it felt good. It did open well, taking the definition of delicious just one step further with each sip (97M).

The 1971 Salon was served a bit cold and left a few searching for more in it, but it was shut down like New York City during last week’s blizzard. The nose was intense and wound with stony, anise aromas, but it was unyielding. It felt like we were bothering it, disturbing it too soon, as its palate was incredibly shy and wound, at first tickled by a steak of wood. While rich, big and long, it was too tight. This particular magnum didn’t shine as brightly as Salon can, but it was still outstanding (95M).

The next wine was so tasty that I invented a word in its honor, ‘yow.’ That’s yum and wow together, by the way. This magnum of 1961 Dom Perignon was an extremely rare, original and non ‘Wedding Cuvee’ – Charles’ and Diana’s, that is. The Royals snapped up most of the production for the wedding, a wise choice, indeed, as Bruce declared that this was ‘one of the Greatest Champagnes ever made,’ and he would know. I thought about it for a second, and after one sip, I concurred. 1961 has always blown me away, but I never put it in the context of the greatest of all-time until then. The nose was fantastic, with a wealth of gold encased in a young personality despite it being an original bottling. There was great fruit here, with none of the excessive sugar of the ’71. Its flavors were rich, big, bold and all balanced by superb acidity. Somehow, despite all of its flavor, it managed to retain a delicacy to its personality. Spectacular stuff (98M).

The last Champagne that I had for the evening was the one served pre-stroke of midnight, a jeroboam of 1961 Pommery, sabered by Big Boy himself, which is no easy task for a jeroboam. Upon sabering the jero in one stroke, the King of Champagne announced, ‘there will be books about me when I’m dead.’ That’s Big Boy style :). Everyone was feeling great, and 2011 was upon us, and the Pommery held up its part of the bargain, delivering another special experience. Its fruit was sweet, yellow and dusty with aromas of almost lemon squares. It was both mature and young, in that sweet spot that I’d like to think I’ll be for another thirty plus years myself. The palate was special and outstanding, a great drink as pre-70s Pommerys usually are (95J).

What would be a Big Boy way to ring in the New Year? Twin jeros of 1971 , of course. Insert your own bomb sound here. Those that have known me for a long time know my love affair with 1971 s is no secret. Just because it is my birth year is mere coincidence! The 1971 s are spectacular, and these two jeros cemented that fact at the bottom of the Hudson River for any of those that denied it :). The 1971 Richebourg began 2011 in fine fashion with an inviting nose of old yet fresh Burgundy fruit. Dank red fruits danced about in a muddy nose of tomato, rose and sea salt. The jero was a little dirty at first, but that is usually a good thing after midnight. The palate opened up into a saucy mouthful of red fruits with a light caramel coating. Long and distinguished, it was a special wine (95J).

There was nowhere to go after the jeroboam of 1971 La Tache was opened. It cornered us all, towering over us with its greatness. I have had the good fortune of having this wine about fifteen times in my life, and I cannot wait for the next fifteen. About ten years after having it for the first time, it is still every drop as good. Consistently 98 points ever since I met it, this jeroboam was no different. The breed, the stature, the depth of concentration and character in the nose”¦it could only be La Tache. Every positive descriptor you could ever say about an older Burgundy and about 1971 in general was right here. I will end this note by only saying that everyone should make sure they drink a good bottle of this before all is said and done (98J).

There were a couple other big bottles too Big Boy for print, but by that point all was said and done. It was another memorable beginning to what will most certainly be another memorable year, and many thanks again to the most generous collector on Earth for sharing from his extraterrestrial cellar.

Whenever I go to Hong Kong, there always seem to be enough great wines on the dinner table for their own section in the auction, and while it started innocently enough this past November with a couple of incredible bottles on Monday, by Tuesday evening we were in full cruise mode, with a dinner on the water in the middle of Hong Kong harbor. Spectacular stuff, indeed.

We got off to a great start with a few bottles of 1997 Salon, and this was the best of the three times that I have had the pleasure of trying this newly-released bubbly so far. A remarkably tender and drinkable wine already, it got a little grassy in the glass. Drink this Salon over the next ten or twenty years while you let your 1996s age (93).

We sat down to an official flight of Salon, beginning with the 1988 Salon. It had a nose of bread soaked in extra virgin olive oil, and Raymond noted ‘vinegar.’ Alex picked up on ‘biscuit’ amongst its pungent white fruits. While balanced, elegant and long, it was clean but lighter in character for me, although a couple people preferred it for the flight. The Poet noted its ‘nice finish but light body’ as well, and I felt disappointed by this bottle overall (91).

The 1985 Salon stepped it up a couple notches with a more forward and expressive nose that possessed pungent lanolin, nutty white meats and fruits, as well as hanging game qualities. Its creamy palate was long and balanced, with Vincent agreeing, ‘full-bodied and rounded.’ Other quotes from the crowd included ‘peachy’ and ‘gamy/earthy.’ In the glass, the 1985 got all the more luscious and delicious (95+).

1983 is a vintage in Champagne where not everyone declared a vintage year, but this 1983 Salon made me wish more did. It was noticeably darkest in color. It was certainly a mature wine with the wild game character in full effect, supported by wet wool. The oily, rich palate was full of deliciously decadent white fruits, gently fallen from the tree after hanging a couple of days too long. There was great sweetness on its palate, with honey and oil everywhere, ready for a Girls Gone Wild DVD. The 1983 was definitely on a plateau, and Alex concurred, but it held remarkably well over time in the glass, which I didn’t expect. I doubt it will get any better, though, and I wouldn’t hesitate to enjoy it now (94).

A flight of that Enlgish claret was next, starting with the elegant 1979 Palmer, which had a pretty nose. Fresh, clean fruit with nice, light cassis and a hint of slate danced softly in the nose while coffee snuck in the back door. Its palate was tender, smooth, balanced and classy, still youthful, and ‘fresh’ and ‘clean’ made their way into my notes again. It was chocolaty with a delicious hint of marzipan, but it didn’t hold that well in the glass, ie, drink up (93).

The 1964 Palmer was like walking into a freshly painted room, then exiting and walking right into a barnyard filled with hay. Gil was ‘mushroom’ farming next door lol, and the palate was better than I expected given the fading reputation of the ’64 vintage in the Left Bank. The Poet remarked that he thought this wine ‘was picked after the rain,’ accounting for its better than expected quality. There was more slate on the palate, but still a tasty flash of fruit, along with chocolate flavors and a sawdusty finish. It held well, too (93).

The legendary 1961 Palmer clearly had more density and volume than the others, with hints of wheat germ, forest and what can only be described as a cassis fountain of youth. The wine was absolutely delicious, and its acidity stood out like a center amongst point guards. A hint of tomato and much redder fruits rounded out this champion of a Margaux. Gil cooed, ‘there is nothing quite like when an old wine drinks young.’ Amen (97).

We got even older with a great bottle of 1929 Latour. It had a reserved nose, unfolding into cedar, charcoal, tobacco and chunky fruit. The palate was rich and still young, eliciting a few wows from the crowd. There was this sexy, raspberry kink and a ‘beetroot sappiness’ per Alex. Creamy and fleshy, this delicious and outstanding Latour had wild cherry and cigar flavors finishing it off. What was most remarkable was that it held well in the glass, too (96).

The 1957 Latour had a gorgeous nose for a not so wildly-regarded vintage, possessing the walnuts, chocolate, cassis and class reminiscent of ’59. The nose was classic in every regard. The palate was lean but still pretty, and its acidity held things together on the slaty finish. A little dill crept in, and the Poet noted ‘ginger flowers’ (92).

The 1962 Latour was from another underrated vintage, a ‘shadow’ year hidden behind the great 1961, and it had another great nose, milder and milky. It was both a little floral and a little stinky, but then the cedar took over with a smokehouse feel. The fruit was lean at first, but it gained density in the glass, particularly on its thick, cedary finish (93).

Things got stinkier with the 1970 Latour, which can be that way. It was grassy and needed extra air for the wet sheep to dry off their coats, but once it was worked out (ie aired and swirled) , it was better. There was still a pleasant wine here, with nice wafer and chocolate flavors and a balanced, lightly gritty finish. It was lighter than I remembered, however. It would prove to be better out of double magnum in Rio de Janeiro last week, but that’s for another article (93).

We switched gears to a 1949 Ausone. It made everyone take notice with its youthful and remarkable nose. Charles summed it up aptly, ‘Absolutely incredible, so exotic with aromas you don’t expect.’ Vincent continued the travel theme with, ‘ginger, leather and Sri Lankan jasmine.’ This great Ausone was eerily transcendent and complex with ripe, rich red fruits and a kinky, sweet sexiness that just wouldn’t quit. It ended up capturing the most first place votes on the evening, although there were a lot of diverging opinions on that topic (96).

The 1948 Margaux was like a coffee shop in Holland with marijuana and old money notes in its nose. Oatmeal was the healthy side of its herbal edge. The palate was fleshy with hints of exotic fruits, and there was a gorgeous honeyed glaze to its finish. I was quite impressed with this wine, which showed better than I thought it would, and it received a surprising number of first-place votes as well (94).

We ended this fabulous evening with a pair of Burgundies, beginning with a 1966 Mommesin Clos de Tart, which took us into the wild open with grainy and gamy aromas. It was rich and fleshy with almost a touch of cough syrup. ‘Great freshness and finish,’ proclaimed Charles, and it was at least one person’s favorite wine, as you can’t keep those Burg men down! It was a touch gamy for me to be outstanding, but close (94).

The 1966 Vogue Musigny Vieilles Vignes suffered slightly in comparison to the Clos de Tart and was a touch oaky and very reductive on the nose. The palate was better and had good density but was a touch stewy. This was clearly not a perfect bottle, but it could not take away from our perfect night (92A).

We had such a great night that a couple nights later, we had to do it again, with a different set of wines, of course.

A magnum of 1981 Krug Collection got us off to a great start with a nose full of vanilla bean and toasty oak. The palate was a touch lean at first, still incredibly racy and youthful, but the honey flavors got spicier and fuller by the time the evening finished. All in all, it was a tasty and impressive wine (94+M).

The 1969 Krug Collection magnum had a similar personality that was more on the cola side of things, and its vanilla qualities in the nose were much more forward, so forward that I started blushing! In the mouth, the wine was still very fresh and firm, with tender fruits and an edgy Krug Collection, rocket-like finish. Some oxygen mellowed the wine out decadently; this was a complete wine, as it really came together in the glass, becoming creamier and exceptionally delicious (96M).

A trio of Palmers commenced with a gorgeous 1955 Palmer. The enticing nose plied with perfume, sweet corns and delicate fruit, leading to a rich palate of chocolate and caramel flavors, held together by stylized structure. This was a balanced and elegant older wine that seemed to pick up steam over time, and Michael noted that it was ‘surprisingly fresh.’ He would know, as he is one of HK’s best drinkers and palates, so much so I have crowned him ‘Mr. Magic’ (95)!

The 1982 Palmer was classic all around and had a lovely cassis nose with a touch of dustiness. The palate was softer than expected, creamy and almost toasty, turning a bit dirty in a good way. The finish was balanced and smooth, but the nose was the better part of this for now (93).

The 1983 Palmer was rather grassy and almost stinky on the nose, but the palate was cleaner and its finish even better with great length and structure. The plum fruits were carefully concealed by finely delineated tannins. The 1982 was more of a now wine, but everyone could see the ’83 getting better with time (94).

We were then privileged to have an exceptional bottle of 1952 Latour. The nose was a perfect combination of chocolate, walnut, pencil and slate. The long, zippy tannins and acidity kept this wine singing in the mouth and throughout the night. It was a spectacular wine with a long, nervy finish, possessing great tension and balance – simply great (96)!

The 1952 La Mission Haut Brion was not a perfect bottle, but you could see a great wine underneath its oxidized qualities. There were very mature prunes and dates and touch of Madeira and old chocolate pudding. It would have probably been 95+ points if a completely sound bottle.

The surprise of the evening was a very fresh and pleasant 1967 Mouton Rothschild, which had nice spice once its touch of Windex blew off. The palate was lean, but still a fighting machine. It was a balanced and tasty wine with a gently lingering finish. It just goes to show that great producers make good, age-worthy wines every vintage (92+).

The generally, more highly regarded 1966 Mouton Rothschild suffered slightly in comparison. It was a sound bottle but not the best example of this wine that I have had. A slightly muddy, chocolaty nose was lightened by herbal kisses and a hint of wood. Lean, clean and fresh, but ultimately simple, it left me wanting something more (90).

The 1961 Mouton Rothschild lived up to the billing of a legendary vintage and had an outstanding nose of tobacco, chocolate, dry-aged meat and clover honey. A long and elegant structure held the rich, fleshy flavors together. This was clearly the wine of the night, and a superlative example of this great Chateau (97).

In comparison to the ‘61, the 1982 Mouton Rothschild seemed like a barrel sample or an unruly child. Little brother had a long way to go, even though there was massive concentration for an ’82. It’s tough to drink a ‘young’ wine after several perfectly mature ones, but there was still clearly a lot of upside here, and I could not argue with anyone who says that Mouton was the best First Growth of this legendary vintage (96+).

We again ended with a pair of Burgundies, this time some 1985s, and both s. The 1985 Romanee St. Vivant had beautiful menthol aromas, almost vitamin C too, and a rose hip nose that got spicier and more beef bouillon-y. The creamy, ripe palate had a touch of brett and got a little dirtier as time went on (94).

The 1985 Richebourg was a bigger wine with brighter acidity, which was a good thing, as I was getting dimmer at this point! It was a beefy wine with a pleasant autumnal glaze, picking up more mint. Mr. Magic was ‘liking the long finish’ as was I, and I was officially finished (95+).

Time to do it again!

For many years now, I have heard the story of this particular batch of 1945 Petrus. When Wilf Jaeger tells you that it is the best bottle that he’s ever had, it’s hard not to listen. It just so happens this batch rested comfortably in the ‘Imperial Cellar’ for many years, and for most of those many years I had to hear Wilf and Eric tell me over and over how great it was, digging my desire a little bit deeper with each recollection of their magical evening, which also saw 1945 Trotanoy as a distinguished runner-up.

Low and behold, the last four bottles turned up in our record-setting May auction, and immediately after the sale, I made my move on the buyer, who happened to be the top buyer of the sale. I asked if we could share one together, my treat, as I had to have this bottle before it disappeared forever like that girl you never asked out in high school. I was determined for that not to happen again. Call me a cork dork if you must :).

My first evening in Hong Kong this past week saw the 1945 Petrus make its way to the dinner table, at long last. First, we started with a 1955 Leroy Mazis Chambertin, a generous contribution from my newfound best friend. The Leroy had a truffly, mushroomy, sous bois nose at first, with some dirty earth and soupy bouillon followed by secondary rose and citrus aromas. Its acidity was still extraordinary, and my host told me after my first sip the story of how one evening, this bottle showed even better than all the top Bordeaux, including a 1947 Cheval Blanc. ‘The power of Burgundy,’ I wrote to myself. The wine got better and better with each sip, shedding some of its dirt to reveal chocolaty flavors with borders of various nuts. Hints of tomato joined the trifecta of citrus, chocolate and earth flavors, and the wine fleshed out in the glass as well. However, it couldn’t top the Bordeaux that would follow on this night, and possibly even suffered a point accordingly (94).

Five years in my making, and sixty-five years in the bottle, it was finally time for this 1945 Petrus. This was an original, no doubt about it bottle. Perfection came to mind upon first whiff, as its nose was a kaleidoscope of greatness, as if every great quality from all the Pomerols I’ve ever had were right there in my glass. Aromas of plum, chocolate and royal garden marched into my nose with style and precision. Fine was an understatement, as its elegance and breed were of an Olympic equestrian level, carrying over to its fruit, which was elegant but at the same time beyond wealthy. Its concentration was golden, as in bars not bracelets. I could not get over its density, both in the nose and on the palate. The 1945 was all that and then some, and it seduced me like a gorgeous woman whispering in my ear, ‘I’ll be whatever you want me to be.’ Its color was still dark and vibrant; this wine could last another fifty years without issue. Its royal garden qualities upgraded to Versailles status, and flavors of mocha abounded on its dense and deft palate, with nice traces of chalk on its finish. There were pinches of wild herbs emerging, in a rosemary meets wheat way, as well as a baked goodness in a coconut direction, but not quite coconut. Our sommelier noted, ‘strawberry.’ The chef at Otto E Mezzo, Hong Kong’s version of Mario Batali, gushed that it was ‘so young and so healthy.’ What was so great about this bottle, and this vintage for the Right Bank in general, is that it still possessed a tension to its fruit, unlike 1947, which produced concentrated and much sweeter wines in general. I can only hope to taste this nectar again in my lifetime, but I strongly suspect that it will be difficult to achieve the heights that this bottle achieved. It touched my soul (99+).

It was a nice warm-up for the week that followed, a casual Monday that was anything but. It’s Hong Kong, they drink it.