2010 has been a vintage year so far, not only for the wine market, but also for my liver. I have been fortunate to taste an incredible amount of great wines in the first two months of 2010, although I have only reported on my January trip to Hong Kong. Well, little ol’ New York still has plenty to say”¦and drink.

There are over a dozen great events that I want to write up, so I kind of picked one out of a hat and was instantly taken back to two glorious, consecutive nights celebrating the Hedonist’s 55th birthday. The first night was at Cru; I wasn’t technically at the dinner party downstairs in the private room, but since I was dining upstairs, there was some positive wine synergy occurring once we knew we were both there.

The Hedonist beat us to the punch by sending us up a couple of glasses of 1955 Bouchard Pere et Fils Corton Charlemagne. It smelled like old Chardonnay for sure, but still came across fresh. Aussie Adam cooed, ‘beautiful nose.’ Its nose was warm and mature, emitting rays of yellow sunshine, rainwater and a hint of yellow prune. Cobwebs glistening in due rounded out is nose. Its palate was smooth and satiny, possessing yeasty flavors and a tender finish (93).

I actually met Adam in Seoul, where he became my official tour guide when I made my first visit back in August of 2007. It was quite the evening; basically the first night prevented a second night from even happening. I believe the phrase ‘no mas’ applied. So when Adam told me he was in NYC, I had to return the favor, although just with dinner. We settled on a 1996 Roulot Meursault Perrieres to start, which just popped out the glass. There was great minerality to its nose, along with citrus, wax, and kernel. Adam found its nose, ‘classic Meursault.’ There were great smoke flavors, and its minerality kept flexing on the palate, as if it were doing reps on my tongue. It was absolutely gorgeous; I could not stop drinking it. It was a sensational wine from a sensational vintage for white Burgundy. Adam summed it up, ‘voluptuous nose, beautiful palate, elegant and fresh’ (96).

What was this, a glass of 1955 Latour a Pomerol, out of double magnum, nonetheless. Yes, they do exist, although after this night, maybe they don’t anymore! The Hedonist had blessed us again. Sir Robert noted, ‘wet, stony, leafy, almost Graves,’ but its core of plummy fruit and chocolate could only be Pomerol. Of course, Sir Robert’s observations were spot on, as always, and it did have these leafy and stony undertones, in a good way. Its palate was masculine, but its finish was feminine. ‘Gorgeous’ kept coming up in my notes, and its soft, chalky and long finish never lost sight of its decadent plum and chocolate core. Did I say gorgeous (95D)?

We started feeling frisky, and we wanted to reciprocate, so I selected one of my favorite, all-time wines, the 1985 Meo Camuzet Richebourg. This is a wine that would be on my top 100 of all-time, and after not having it for at least three or four years, it was good to see it still showing incredibly. Of course, Henri Jayer had his hand in the ’85 Meo, and many feel that Henri was the greatest winemaker ever in Burgundy. Consider the ’85 Meo Riche ‘Exhibit A.’ It had a ‘wow’ nose, layers upon layers cascading up into my nose. I literally felt like I was swimming in it. Pick a fruit, any fruit, as they were all seemingly there – red, purple, black and blue danced together freely, transporting us to a shiny, happy place, a veritable Woodstock for wine. Adam hailed it as ‘intoxicating,’ and ‘miles ahead of in 1985.’ Hey, he said it, not me! But, he was right, not to take away from the Riche, in and of itself a great wine, but the 1985 Meo Richebourg is just one of those wines that is one step beyond the rest. Incredibly complex, there was this magnificent floral component, along with distinctive and sexy Asian spices, an ocean of fruit, and even some morning fog. Smelling it was like looking out on a horizon of wine, endless in its possibilities and promise. Adam noted, ‘sap and pine tar, menthol and spring forest.’ All I could then see were naked nymphs. Adam cooed, ‘the whole world stops for a great bottle of Burgundy; armies could march past me right now, and I would still be sitting here.’ Here, here. No, seriously, here, give me the rest of your ’85 Meo; it was actually a wine over which wars are started (98)!

Jay had one more ’55 up his sleeve, a 1955 Figeac, another one of my favorite things. There is not a more underrated, under-appreciated property in all of Bordeaux. In the face of all these ‘garage’ wines getting so much acclaim, Figeac remains a beacon for classic winemaking. I’ll keep the Figeac in the cellar, all those other wines can stay in the garage J. Figeac does need more time to age and blossom than most St. Emilions; perhaps that is where its secrets lie. This Figeac didn’t have that problem even though it was served out of magnum since its vintage was ’55. The nose was blacker than I expected out of magnum, possessing black fruits, olives, forest and mint. It was so rounded, and so good. Flavors of olive, cherry oil, musk and hints of nuts graced its palate. Jay also had a bottle of the same wine, which was redder in its fruit and riper in its personality, although a touch more linear as well. Qualitatively, they were consistent. In the end and after time in the glass, it actually out-showed the Latour a Pomerol (95+M).

That was much more than I expected on this wintry evening. The next night was actually the main event, and Hollywood Jef had even flown in to help with the celebration. He was armed with a few bottles of Montrachet, so we surrendered quickly, beginning with a 1989 Montrachet. The ’89 had a warm, inviting nose of corn, light sweetness, butter and hints of orange and citrus spice. Its palate was round and smooth with light flavors of butter and minerals, lighter than one would expect from an ’89 Montrachet. It was a good vintage to start the vertical with accordingly. Those that know this wine know that ’89 was a bit of a disappointment for relative to its usual quality. Don’t get me wrong, it was still an excellent wine. A hint of that tropical kink developed, and while the wine was soft and polished, its acidity crept out more. It was almost latent, getting bigger in the glass but also a touch square. Lora, a former food editor and avid taster, found it, ‘elegant and perfect’ (93).

The 1991 Montrachet that followed had more exotic sweetness and lots of caramel. The Hedonist hailed it, ‘a different beast.’ Its color was much deeper, on a faster maturity track. Its nose was musky, and Lora found it ‘luscious.’ It was earthier and heartier than the ’89, quite rich in its personality, which also had more veggie flavors, in a good way, further flirting with bouillon. While a little wild and rugged, the 1991 was an excellent, mature Monty, qualitatively equal although stylistically different to the ’89 (93).

The 1979 Montrachet made us quickly forget about the previous two wines. It was a staggering example of great white Burgundy. The nose was so musky and nutty but deep, very deep, super sexy juice. There were exotic fruits abounding in the nose, hinting at guava without the sweetness, along with orange and other tropical impressions. Icicles also came to mind in its piercing and riveting nose. The palate was incredibly rich with insane depth. There were decadent coffee flavors and perfect sweetness; the marriage of musk and caramel was made in heaven, and the lobster risotto that followed took it up a notch. Amazing wine (98).

It was a tough act for the 1993 Montrachet to follow. Ron called out ‘bubblegum,’ while the Hedonist observed ‘odd fruit, more pear than Chardonnay, really.’ It was total pear, and after the comment, that’s all I could smell. It had a hint of liqueur, and while smooth and solid, it was no match for the ’79. I really like 1993 whites, although this one was less than I hoped it would be (92).

It was onto the reds, and some more ‘55s. The 1955 Haut Brion was all gravel, smoke and charcoal in its nose. It also had lots of band-aids, showing its back-sided qualities instead of its fruit. Laura observed, ‘smoky cinder box.’ The HB still had fruit in the mouth and enough cassis to build a bridge to its back side. Soft and fleshy, it was an outstanding HB (95).
It was paired, of course, with the 1955 La Mission Haut Brion. ‘Both are very good and as expected,’ the Hedonist asserted. The La Miss was deeper with more purple to its fruit, along with more spice and less gravel, also smoky but in a white direction. Jef found it ‘a little austere’ at first, and it was shy on the palate. Its treasures were more hidden in a brooding way, and it was clear that it had a longer life ahead of it than the HB. With that being said, it wasn’t in as giving a mood as other bottles I have had (95+).

The next flight was a celebrity death match ”“ 1982 Lafleur vs. 1990 La Tache, a wine equivalent of King Kong vs. Godzilla. For those of you that forget or may not know, a celebrity death match is where you taste two totally random wines from different regions against each other; in fact, I have a whole article coming up dedicated just to the concept. But I digress”¦

The 1982 Lafleur was a great bottle, kinky from the get-go. Of course, the Hedonist hailed it as ‘one of the greatest Bordeaux ever,’ as ’82 Lafleur has long been hailed as one of the most hedonistic wines ever made. Its nose was chocolaty and smoky, brimming with blue fruits. The palate was rich with a small spike of alcoholic power, along with benevolent flavors of stems and stalks. While tighter than I remember the wine being, which bodes well for the future, it still had that gamy, sweet fruit, that mature Lafleur mega-fruit rainbow spectrum. Its acidity and alcohol stood out from the crowd, and Jef noted, ‘licorice and lavender.’ This wine was poised and still ready for a long run (97).

The 1990 La Tache had a deeper and more expansive nose, very Sequoia-esque with its forest, garden, mushrooms and stalk. This was a great bottle of 1990, and it was ‘singing’ to Lora. The wood elements were noticeable but not offensive, and while the Lafleur was admittedly more enjoyable, the La Tache was the better wine, but the room was split down the middle, with three votes on each side. The texture, weight and length of the La Tache, though, was undeniable to me (98).

We brought things full circle with a 1997 Montrachet. The first thing that I thought was that this was the second-best Montrachet of the night, and it was. There was force in its nose, which was rippling with minerals, and plenty of citrus to back that thing up. This was a powerful Montrachet, and while there was a hint of botrytis, it was deliciously there, and the 1997 was long and racy without the race track. It stood up to the two incredible reds served beforehand (95).

There were six of us, and nine wines were down the hatch already, but somehow, there were actually three more wines served on this starry night. My notes were not so starry by this point, as I was definitely drinking to the last drop all night long with this lineup. A 1959 Latour was chalky, smoky and slaty, polished but not perfect, and a bit disappointing (93A). A 1955 Latour made up for it with its sweet fruit and what I called ‘A to Z greatness’ (95). A perfect 1955 Yquem rounded things out in fine fashion, just as it oughta be and then some (96+).

It was a stellar birthday celebration, a definite Hedonist production. There is one thing that I have learned over the years, a fact reinforced by this incredible night. Life is short, drink it.

I know I never got to writing up my last trip to HK in November, which included numerous great events and wines, so we will keep that in the vault for now. This past January, Hong Kong kicked off 2010 in fine fashion, not only on the sales floor, but also on the dinner table.

I actually missed my flight out to Hong Kong. I had planned my trip perfectly. The flight was 9:20AM, and the previous night I stayed up working with Samantha until 3am on the next HK catalog. Everyone else was already on their way. I slept about three hours, gathered my belongings and headed to the airport on schedule. If I could sleep shortly after take off, it would put me on HK time rather effectively, and some Ambien was in my pocket ready to assist. There was one small glitch; I forgot my passport. Yes, those three-hour nights of sleep after a night of work overload can cause small oversights. Fortunately, there was another flight at 2pm, and my plan was able to stay fairly on course, albeit delayed.

I arrived in Hong Kong around 6pm local time, and I had dinner plans with Hong Kong’s version of the Good Doctor. By the time I got out of the airport and freshened up, I was a bit late, so I missed the 1996 Salon. Something tells me it was still one of the best young Champagnes that I have ever had. Fortunately, I didn’t miss any other wines, as the lineup was fantastic. The Good Doctor definitely had the perfect remedies for any jet lag I might have been suffering. Not only were there great wines, but I was also treated to an incredible, home-cooked Shanghainese-style dinner, one of the best Chinese meals that I have ever had.

We started at the table with a 2004 Drouhin Montrachet Marquis de Laguiche. The Drouhin had a classy nose of sweet butter, yellow fruits, corn, minerals, wheat and caramel. The palate was beautiful, quite elegant for Montrachet, long and smooth. Master Vincent admired its ‘very long’ qualities, and there was nice grain on its finish. Wendy, the Angry Chick, was along for the ride and observed, ‘fresh lavender,’ and its palate got smokier in the glass (94).

The Good Doctor offered up some 1998 Cheval Blanc, and why not. He has over 50 cases of it. Have I mentioned how they like to drink it in Hong Kong? The nose on the Cheval was tight yet sexy, its great t ‘n a slowly unwinding in a seductive manner. It was feminine yet full, possessing lots of red fruits, peanut, wintergreen and ‘still very fresh tannins,’ per the Master. There was great spice in the nose, but the palate was still a baby, but what a baby. There was huge alcohol and acid here, with expressive and defined tannins. Vincent called it ‘a young frau.’ Flavors of rust, red fruits and a hint of licorice emerged, and while this wine was decanted over two hours prior, it tasted like it could have been decanted for twenty-four hours and still come across youthfully. It still maintained a heavenly elegance despite all of its power. This is definitely an undervalued Cheval at the moment (96).

Wendy brought along a perfect bottle of 1975 Petrus. Vincent told us, ‘along with La Mission and Haut Brion, Petrus harvested early before the rain,’ which accounted for why these three wines were so good in ’75. Wendy observed ‘leather,’ while the Good Doctor just found it ‘gorgeous.’ The nose was ripe and kinky, like meat in the sun in a good way. Its fruit dripped black and purple, and aromas of black olive rounded out its nose. The palate was enormous and endless; its finish said fifty more years to go. Its palate was deliciously gamy and full of royal purple flavors. There was enough t ‘n a here for the Dallas Cheerleaders, and its thick tannins formed a perfect truce with its wealth of fruit. I could not stop drinking it (97).

Where could we go from here? 1989 Haut Brion, now there’s a good idea. This wine has been popping itself open around me about once a month for the past six. I could get used to that. It is and will be one of the greatest wines ever made in Bordeaux. Period, paragraph. The nose screamed great; its smoky and charcoal-laced fruit was as black as midnight. While fat and voluminous, it was also perfumed, and its posture was perfect. This bottle had even more fruit than the one I had in Bordeaux; it was as good as this wine can get. The Good Doctor also knows his provenance and storage; it says a lot when a bottle in HK can be even better than a bottle in Bordeaux itself! Vincent was admiring its concentration. Its palate was cedary, thick, long, gritty and grainy, almost Pomerolesque in its fruit. I had a flash of 1989 Petrus. The 1989 is an explosive wine that destroys everything in the room without anyone even hearing a sound, and this bottle was no different and as good as I ever remember it being (99).

There was one wine left on this magical beginning to this month’s HK venture, my 1996 La Tache. This bottle delivered an outstanding experience, more so than the bottle I had about six months ago at Bipin’s weekend. It had that ‘wow’ factor, even after some stiff competition from Bordeaux. This was more like the 1996 La Tache I remembered, with more meat on its bones. There was lots of winter in its nose, like cedar in a frozen forest. Mint and layers of penetrating t ‘n a rounded out its cavernous nose. The acid of 1996 was shining brightly here, and flavors of mint and menthol lined up like soldiers for its forceful palate. It was rich, saucy, hearty and long, and its fruit has finally fattened out just enough for it to be ‘next level,’ although I could see the monstrosity of its acid not being for everyone. Vincent observed ‘milky’ characteristics, part of its green tannin flavors, which were delicious in a foresty way. I vascillated between 96 and 97 points until the last drop, so let’s call it (96+).

It was a good start to the week in HK, but it was just beginning. Lunch the next day with Vincent provided an interesting head-to-head match-up of 1994 Sassicaia versus 2001 Lafite. The 1994 Sassicaia was ‘very Bordeaux-like’ per Gil, but the ‘olive hints at Italian.’ There was green bean in its nose, and a tangy undercurrant as well. Gil continued on to call it ‘olive juice.’ The palate was gamy and tangy with flavors of citrus, olive and stewed fruit flavors. Its tannins were dry, and its aftertaste full of oak, too much of it, in fact. The nose was better than the palate, and it was a bit sour (87).

The 2001 Lafite Rothschild had a gorgeous nose, with classic aromas of cedar, cassis, pencil and sweet, open fruit. There was much more volume here, and Alex found it ‘voluptuous.’ The palate was round and coy, its hidden acidity slowly emerging. Its tannins, too, were on the dry side and hints of oak, soy and salt led to a fish ‘n chips impression. Pretty and polished, long and with nice citrus twists, the Lafite was an excellent wine (93).

That very same night had us hosting sixty people for an evening of 1990 Left Bank Bordeaux. We didn’t tell anyone in advance that it would be blind; there were fifteen wines served, and at the end we tallied everyone’s top five wines (5 points for first, 1 point for fifth). The results were fascinating.

Now before I begin, I will actually revert back to November and include one event where I was hosted by one of my favorite tasting groups in Hong Kong, the AlcoholiHKs. This group of young financial wizards is always a lot of fun to be around and epitomize passion for the grape, although you don’t want to find yourself alone with Jerome after midnight. Trust me. The evening that they hosted for me in December served as a pre-cursor for our own event, and about eight of us gathered at the Hong Kong Country Club for a quartet of 1990 clarets.

The wines were served single blind, meaning we all knew the lineup but not the order. After evaluating the wines over a period of time, I was able to identify each of the four correctly, thankfully. Once in a while I get something right!

The 1990 Margaux had a deep, elegant nose with a hint of cinnamon. The nose also had cassis fruit and grilled nuts and meats. Deeper and deeper the nose went, down an Alice in Wonderland hole of elegance. Rich and delicious in the mouth, the Margaux didn’t lose any of its elegance on the palate, and its smooth and satiny style set the stage for flavors of purple fruits, nuts, grapes, musk, minerals and slate. The wine smacked on its finish (95).

The 1990 La Mission Haut Brion was more pungent with a hint of wheat grass at first. Hints of windex, nuts and animal rounded out its furry nose. The palate was full of gravel and alcohol with lots of dirty purple and charcoal flavors. It was clearly the lightest of the four, but it had excellent acidity to its finish. Gritty, grainy and gravelly, the La Miss also had a hint of green bean flavors (93).

The 1990 Haut Brion had the deepest nose of the four wines. There was thick, sweet, sappy fruit, and the nose had a good stink emerging from the streets of its smoky city. Gamy and chunky in both the nose and the mouth, the HB was rich, long and delicious. Its flavors were peanutty with a hint of kinky, and there was ample supporting slate. The HB had the most power of our quartet (96).

The 1990 Latour was fabulous. This was the second knockout bottle of this wine I had had within the month. Its sweet nose was inviting and open, more showy than any other wine. Its trio of musk, cedar and cassis was pure nose candy, and fresh, honey-roasted walnuts rounded out its sexy aromatics. It was so delicious, classic and the freshest palate of them all, showing lots of tasty pencil flavors. There was also great cedar to the palate, which was less ripe than the nose led me to expect, and the 1990 Latour was the best balanced of the four wines, providing an equal ratio of fruit and finish (97).

Now back to January, the 28th to be exact, and the fifteen wines and forty-five bottles we had assembled. Gil was in charge of the order of wines served, and the only one who knew which wine was what. I played along. At the end, we tallied everyone’s top five wines and revealed the identity of each wine from the least favorite wine of the night to its most popular, which is always fun.

The first wine had a clean nose with hints of green olive and bean, gamy in that direction. Its fruit was meaty, and its aromas were rich and hearty with nice spice. Cedar and minerals emerged from underneath, as did traces of leather. It was very open compared to the second wine, and while its fruit had some richness, its body was lighter in style. The wine with which it was served knocked it back a bit. Peter of the AlcoholiHKs nailed the wine ”“ it was the 1990 Gruaud Larose (93).

The second wine had ‘very dry tannins,’ and ‘ginger flowers’ in its nose per Vincent. The nose was very shy at first, possessing faint peanut. This wine was all about what I call ‘backside’ elements ”“ leather, cedar and minerals. The acidity was superb, and the wine was very long on the palate; it kept coming out more and more with time in the glass. Classy, long and minerally, this was still young and possessed very fresh tannins. Vincent and I were convinced it was the Chateau Margaux, but it was the 1990 Ducru Beaucaillou. It was impressive, but its subtle style did not stand out for many on this night (95).

The next flight was three wines, and the first was very chocolaty in its nose, more like cocoa powder. There were bigger and blacker fruits, and supporting smoke and dust. Additional aromas of cedar, carob, almost soy and a little hoisin rounded out the nose. The palate was concentrated, big and beefy with a thick finish, and excellent balance and acidity. This plump 1990 Pichon Lalande was quite pleasing and an excellent wine. For it to get 79 points from the world’s most regarded critic of Bordeaux is a bit confusing; there must be a batch of this wine that is not on par with the rest? I was surprised to see a second consistent note posted recently in June of 2009. Things that make you go hmmmmmm (93).

The next wine was a lot greener, closer to the Gruaud in style, but with less flesh and more peanut. It was lighter in its nose with some sweet plum and prune. The Good Doctor defended its length, and it did gain in the glass a bit. Vincent was suspecting this was the Lalande; he was only a wine late, and I completely saw his reasoning. Flavors of olive and game rounded out this 1990 Palmer (92).

The third wine of this second flight was deeper in its nose and possessed more oak. Cedar blended in, but its oak was still noticeable. The wine was long and gritty, cedary and leathery but marred by the oak. There were lots of forest flavors as well, but the fact of the oak remained. The Good Doctor didn’t like its flavor, and it was his least favorite wine so far. It was very dry, long and closed, and while there was good acid here, there was no fruit up front on its palate. I was stunned to learn later that this was the 1990 Margaux. Based on my experience two months prior, this showing was not consistent. I know bottle and variation are dirty words in Bordeaux when used together”¦more things that make you go hmmmmmmm (92?).

The third flight led off with a wine that had a big, warm nose fill of sweet, purple cassis. There was great musk and spice, excellent nut, and an almost creamy impression. The palate was rich, hearty and long with outstanding acid and outstanding tannins. Its finish was huge, really big, the biggest so far by a long shot. It had a tidalwave of a finish. The Good Doctor observed, ‘almond,’ and I added extract. This was a great showing for the 1990 Leoville Las Cases, and ultimately my wine of the night (96+).

It was paired with a wine that was much less impressive. This next wine was very green in the nose with lots of bell pepper. Its palate was lighter with chalky green flavors, as well as wet hay ones and a horsey and gamy personality. I guessed Montrose or Mouton. It was the latter, and this 1990 Mouton Rothschild seemed more mature than the average 1990 on this night, and disappointing overall (89).

The first wine of the fourth flight had a waxy nose which was deep and big. Aromas of game, spice and a touch of freshly painted wood were present. The palate was rich, saucy and smoky. I then wrote how almost every wine served on this night had a great finish, but this one was a bit bigger than most. Rich, fresh and balanced, this 1990 Haut Brion was fairly consistent with the bottle I had had two months prior (95+).

As was the 1990 La Mission Haut Brion that followed. The La Miss had lots of coffee in its nose, along with green bean and minerals. Hints of hoisin and peanut rounded it out. Long and dry, it was coy at first, expanding a bit later on (93).

The 1990 Lynch Bages was all about the coffee as well, more grinds than fresh brew. There was a powdery edge to the nose, and hints of animal and green bean lingered. The palate was rich, but the finish was softer, especially once I considered what it was later on. There was a touch of a synthetic quality to its flavors, and it was exotic in its cinnamon and cedar (93).

Bottle variation reared its head again with the eleventh wine served on its night. The first bottle had a rubber tire nose. There was cassis and fruit behind that, along with asparagus and animal. The flavors were all asparagus, and the finish was out of balance. ‘Tarry and leathery’ came from Vincent. He continued, ‘its earthiness is on the Northern side.’ This first bottle of 1990 Pichon Baron was barely (90). The second bottle I tasted was spectacular; there was a thick ocean of deep fruit along with smoke, charcoal, gravel and rich tobacco flavors (95). It just goes to show you that it always comes down to the bottle, and while wines are more consistent than they are not, there is variation.

The wine that was paired with the Baron was quite pungent, possessing glue in its nose at first. Brooding fruit and lurking oak peered out from the shadows of this behemoth’s nose. There were lots of peanut flavors and sweet cassis fruit, and this wine had excellent length and balance, gaining and expanding in the glass. It was a 1990 Latour, and while not as good as my two recent experiences, it was still outstanding (95).

The last flight was upon us, and my notes were a bit briefer. We had to start gathering everyone’s votes and then tally them, so I rushed through this flight a bit more than the others. The first wine was a classic and great. It was all about the cedar, supported by morning cereal, yeast and even a hint of coconut. Its palate had excellent citric tension, and it was nice to see a good show for the ‘house’ wine, so to speak, as this was the 1990 Chateau Lafite Rothschild (95).

The second to last wine of the night would ultimately become the group’s wine of the night. The nose was open and exotic, full of blackberry fruit in its nose. The palate was rich and saucy, with coffee grind and earth flavors and a meaty and dense personality. It was a Dr. Jekyll bottle of 1990 Montrose, which can often be green and unpleasant, but this was obviously one of the ‘good’ bottles that received so many accolades (95).

The last wine would be a disappointing 1990 Cos d’Estournel. It was sweet and almost cough syrupy, very different from my memories of this wine. It was very cherry and too sweet (91?).

We took everyone’s top five votes, five points being awarded to first place, and one point being awarded to fifth place. Here were the results:

1) Montrose (101 votes)
2) La Mission (97 votes)
3) Haut Brion (76 votes)
4) Lynch Bages (75 votes)
5) Lafite (62 votes)
6) Las Cases (56 votes)
7) Margaux (55 votes)
8) Mouton (53 votes)
8) Pichon Lalande (53 votes)
9) Pichon Baron (46 votes)
10) Latour (39 votes)
11) Cos (34 votes)
12) Ducru (27 votes)
13) Palmer (24 votes)
14) Gruaud Larose (13 votes)

So, what to make of all this data? First of all, I should say that often in these types of tastings, the wines at the end of the tasting get more unintentional favoritism. Their impressions are more recent, the earlier wines have been consumed and are long gone, etc. There is also a pack mentality that happens, i.e., the quality of wines tend to converge a bit more than when served non-blind. Lesser wines get more benefits of the doubt, as the mind sends subliminal messages ”“ ‘but what if this is the Margaux?’ And the opposite happens for the better wines, ‘but what if this is Gruaud Larose, that couldn’t be my favorite.’ The real surprises for me were the La Mission and Lynch Bages in the group’s top five. Both were excellent wines but did not stand out for me as much as the group. I was also surprised how high the Mouton scored given its green personality, a personality consistent with other experiences of the wine. Certainly, the Pichon Baron might have snuck into the top five if that one bottle wasn’t as off as it was. I am not surprised that the Ducru didn’t show well even though I really liked it, although it would be interesting to know what would have happened if it was in the last flight rather than the first. Cos was disappointing, as I am a fan of the 1990 and the estate in general since 1982. The biggest disappointment had to be the Chateau Latour; while I found it better than most, I was stunned to see it in the bottom third. After having this wine on two occasions within the previous two months, I was convinced that Latour would win and that it is the Left Bank wine of the vintage; it was that good both times prior. These tastings are always fun because they consistently show that just when you think you know all the answers, someone changed the questions.

The next day was Friday, the day of the auction, and we were joined by renowned and respected importer Martine Saunier, who joined us to help celebrate the sale of her personal collection of Henri Jayer. What better way to celebrate than sample seven of Henri’s wines over lunch at Restaurant Petrus in the Island Shangri-La.

The 1988 Henri Jayer Vosne Romanee was an excellent beginning and about as impressive a 20-year old AC wine as I have ever had. Its sweetness and perfume were so balanced, and its deep purple nose accompanied by delightful aromas of game, leather and violet. This was a deep and expansive wine. Martine reminded us that 1988 was ‘a very hot vintage’ and ‘extra tannic.’ The palate had flavors of ‘rose hips’ per Wendy, vitamins, leather and ‘cranberry’ per Gil. Its acidity was impressive, and great caraway flavors developed. Wendy admired its ‘soft, floral Grand Cru nose,’ and hints of cedar rounded out its finish. This was a drinker’s Burgundy, for sure (93).

The 1989 Henri Jayer Vosne Romanee Cros Parantoux had a deep chocolaty nose that was tight and full of t ‘n a. Aromas of black fruits and cola were also present. The palate was big, brawny and muscular, full of spice. It was earthy and long, but I must confess that the charm of the previous wine was so divine, that it almost stole the Cros’ show. The palate was thick and cedary, rich and close to outstanding, very foresty in its flavors. It was clearly the ‘better’ wine with a longer future, but I would rather drink the ’88 today. The Cros got a ‘wow’ from Gil, along with ‘caramel’ (94+).

The next flight was a trio of Echezeaux, beginning with a 1991 Georges et Henri Jayer Echezeaux. Martine told us that the Georges bottling is the same as the exclusively Henri bottling, and since the market pays much higher prices when Georges’ name isn’t on the bottle, the smart money is on Georges. This ’91 was singing in the nose, which was a deep, dark, purple forest. There was incredible sweetness and spice. Cassis, currant, blackberry, cranberry and so much musk were all there. Its signature style of rose hips, vitamins, citrus spice box and mahogany let you know this was all Jayer. The palate was rich, sensual and balanced, so classy, silky and sexy that it felt like drinking negligee. It was absolutely gorgeous (95).

The 1990 Henri Jayer Echezeaux had a lot going on in its nose. It was heavy and thick, beefy, brothy and foresty, with that citrus pitch and spice. It was like a forest sledgehammer, so thick and sweet, displaying that purple signature style. The palate was rich with endless acidity that was still somehow reined in. The palate was so rich, so saucy, so concentrated, so spectacular. It also had that cedary, foresty edge to its flavors. If the 1991 was a girlfriend, the 1990 was a bodyguard (97).

The 1989 Henri Jayer Echezeaux was more gamy and a little figgy, more exotic than the other Ech’s. It was very forward with a little tutti frutti there. Gil found ‘yogurt’ in the nose. The palate was big and hearty but both ‘89s showed some squareness, and that grainy, cola-flavored personality was also consistent for both (93).

Martine told us how ’89 had nice weather and was a good wine, but the 1990 was forceful and amazing. It was ten years before the 1990’s came out of their seclusion. 1991 was a shadow year, lost in the shadow of 1990, but she thought it was sensational from the beginning. In fact, she bought more 1991 than 1990! She hailed its perfect balance, and said that Lalou Bize-Leroy likened it to 1959, a vintage that was always good from the very start.

The 1982 Henri Jayer Echezeaux was open and milky, redder in its fruit profile and rusty. 1982 was ‘a big harvest, so people that made too much wine didn’t make great wines.’ The palate was rich and full of decadent strawberry fruit, bright, saucy and long. Hints of wheat and lavender rounded out this exotic wine, which was a testament to how masterful Henri was in the so-called ‘off’ vintages. Martine would later say, ‘he never made a bad bottle’ (95).

We finished with a 1982 Henri Jayer Richebourg, of which there was only a barrel or two every year. The Riche had aromas of forest, boullion cubes, spice and mahogany. It was rich, concentrated, thick and long, with lots of leather, cedar and dust in the mouth. Flavors of red fruits, tomato, garden, stalk and more cedar undressed themselves layer after layer on its hearty palate. The 1982 Jayer Richebourg was like a strip-show for the mouth, complete with the bill (96).

The auction saw fireworks out of the glass and on the sales floor. Numerous wines were sampled and consumed during the auction, and two stood out for me above all the rest. Wendy had brought a 1955 Dom Perignon which was in perfect condition. It was just delicious. The nose had straw, hay, vanilla, cream, caramel, rain, wheat, crackers, musk”¦there was a lot going on. It was rich and tasty, very saucy and still with a lot of pop to it. There was great balance, a youthful personality but mature flavors. It was everything one could want in a vintage Champagne (97).

I had brought a magnum of 1996 Latour to share with a few people, and it was outstanding and bordering on that next level, as usual. Out of magnum it was a bit tight, but it was the typical brooding beast that young Latour can be. All the elements were there ”“ black fruits, walnuts, minerals, earth. It felt mountainous in the mouth but was still graceful and stylish in its presence. This will be an all-time great Latour (96+).

The auction was a tremendous success, posting over 99% sold and over $7.6 million on the gross. On Sunday night, we celebrated with a few close friends and decided to make Martine drink Bordeaux. She was in Hong Kong, after all.

The 1996 Dom Perignon Rose was consistent with all my previous experiences. Very dry, citrusy and tangy, it has the potential to blossom, but it is a bit mean at the moment. I do not think it is in the elite category of DP Roses, and I would rather have many, many other 1996s before this, at least for now (93).

We actually did serve a couple of Burgundies first. We didn’t want Martine to start getting the shakes lol. A 1961 Clos de Tart smelled great. There was lots of rust, bright citrus and intense t ‘n a. Hints of violets, rose petals and game rounded out its complex nose. It had long acidity on the palate, as good ’61 Burgs are prone to have. I was discussing recently with Wilf, and he thinks it might be considered the best of the decade before all is said and done. 1961 always seemed lost in the shadows of ’61 Bordeaux and ’62 Burgs, but I must agree that the ones I have had of late are fantastic. This was no exception, and its brick flavors, pinches of Worcestershire and strawberry/rhubarb action all added up nicely. Gil noted, ‘a little VA, but who cares.’ A hint of vanilla ice cream and creamy root beer floated its way into the equation, and this wine was tasty and possessed great rusticity. The thing I liked most about the bottle was the Acker sticker on the back 🙂 (94).

A 1955 Clos de Tart Vandermeulen bottling was a bit controversial. Martine noted ‘coffee’ right away, and that it was ‘not pure.’ It tasted very chocolaty and fruity, and definitely not 100% pure. The question became, when and where did the doctor operate, and the relativity theory of its authenticity came into play. If it was real, i.e., actually released by Vandermeulen, but it was so doctored, was it still real? That kind of stuff. It was quite fruity and young, a little Syrah-ish, definitely more New World than old, and tough to drink next to the 1961 (88?)

We played a game of bottle variation with two bottles of 1926 Cos d’Estournel, secured from the auction the previous day, actually. The first had a gorgeous nose, classic with its great cedar, cobwebs, smoke and positive hints of vanilla, lemon and rubber. It had a divine perfume without being perfumed, if that makes sense. I loved its dust and spice in the mouth, and it was far superior to the second bottle (94). The second bottle was not as perfumed; ironically, its color was younger even though it was from the same batch. The nose was a bit more closed, purpler and danker, although Gil was in its camp at first. I thought it was shy, and perhaps a hint off (90?). If winos were football players, the above is what we would call, ‘Any Given Sunday.’

Horace brought a bottle of 1948 Haut Brion he picked up at a great price at one of our auctions. It was very dry in the nose with lots of charcoal, straw, smoke, citrus and a pinch of penetrating horseradish. The palate was citrusy and tangy, with nice definition of its tannins. There was this bamboo jungle edge that emerged in the nose, and the palate became rich, bordering on saucy, but kept in bounds by its ceramic framework. It was long, elegant and poignant, and an excellent, old HB (94).

Vincent brought a bottle of 1962 Lafite Rothschild, one that we weren’t even sure was a 1962 until a thorough investigation of the cork. The vintage was illegible on the torn label, and the cork was eroded/faded to the point where it was very difficult to see the vintage, but ultimately I found the brand. Sometimes corks can fade or erode and be difficult to read, even when the wine is 100% legit, as this Lafite was. There was a kiss of cardboard in the nose, but behind it was a wealth of fresh fruit, along with carob, chocolate and pencil. Gil noted, ‘a little bandage.’ The palate was pretty as all heck, delicious with beautiful balance and natural, mature flavors that still came across fresh. Its silky, velvety mouthfeel caressed my palate gracefully (95).

The 1947 Vieux Chateau Certan stole the show, however. It had a deep, special nose, a veritable ocean of plummy sex. Alex observed, ‘jasmine,’ and found it ‘pure.’ Hints of garden and tree bark complemented the nose, but it was all about the Pomerol fruit. The palate was rich, saucy and concentrated, pure decadence. Its pure fruit flavors of plum and cassis were mature in their complexity yet youthful in their personality, just as it ought to be. It was lush and long but integrated, with its tannins and alcohol melted into its wealth of fruit. Wow (98).

There was one last wine to this amazing week in Hong Kong, and that was a 1962 Magdelaine, reconditioned at the Chateau in 1991. This was a ‘good’ reconditioned bottle, one that still retained the original personality of the wine. The nose was sweet and sexy with lots of red fruits, wintergreen and nice pitch and spice. The palate was similar, and while the wine still had that reconditioned polish, it was an excellent bottle of wine (93).

What a week. Great food, great friends and great wines. That’s what life is all about. I returned to New York, where I was reminded right away that we still know how to drink here in NYC. Stay tuned.

Recently, I spent 24 hours in Bordeaux, swooping in like agent Jack Bauer for my own version of the wine world’s ‘24.’ Fortunately, there were no casualties, and while no deadly fruit bombs were discovered, there were many explosive wines that we systematically defused while there through the tried and true method of consumption. Agents Desai, Grunewald and Woolls were already on the scene when I arrived, investigating three vintages of Pichon Lalande over lunch at the Chateau.

The 1996 Pichon Lalande was a classic, an ‘archetype’ as someone noted. Its finesse didn’t suffer from a higher percentage of Cabernet Sauvignon. Gildas of Pichon Lalande explained to us that the last ten or so vintages of Pichon have had a higher percentage of Cabernet in the final blend as the Cabernet has been more ripe than before over the last decade. Was this global warming, we inquired? The answer was a definitive no; it was rather that famed oenologist and Robert Parker favorite Alain? Reynaud pushed everyone to pick later. Nuts, minerals, pencil, cedar and cassis were all in harmony in the nose, and the palate was polished in that Pichon way. Its flavors were black, purple and delicious with nice nut and cassis overtones. I have always liked this wine from the moment it was released (94).

The 1982 Pichon Lalande was much more open, with hints of coffee in its nose and more gamy fruit. It was musky and husky, with hints of corn oil and sweet fruit. Signature nut and pencil were there, and the pencil really started to take over in the nose with some air. Flavors of cassis, green bean and olive were present in this tasty wine, with more pencil on its finish. It was lush, round and rich with great black fruit flavors, and its olive became blacker in style. Someone called it ‘reductive’ (96).

The 1953 Pichon Lalande had a gorgeous nose, peanutty at first. It reminded me of the 1982 in terms of the richness in its nose, although there was no green olive here. The green olive did show up a little on the palate curiously enough, and Wolf admired its ‘nice concentration for the vintage.’ It was certainly the best older Pichon Lalande that I had ever had, and its nutty and smoky palate also had hints of coffee a la the 1982. There was a bit of exotic green to the palate with its olive and even apple qualities. Its sweet fruit had honey and hints of autumn, iron, slate and ceramic, with curds and whey on its finish. A bit of exotic berry came out with a refill, and one hour later, this wine still had me licking the roof of my mouth. It was certainly outstanding, and Bipin likened 1953 to 1985. He then went on to say how 1982 was ‘not a great vintage, only twenty Chateaux are surreal, the rest are quite volatile’ (95).

It was time to taste some 2008s, so we ventured off to Lafite. After a few pleasantries with Charles Chevallier about Lafite’s popularity and how the price of the Carruades has also soared, it was interesting to see the respect that the Chateau had for Duhart Milon. Why not change the name to Duhart de Lafite? Well, Duhart Milon was a separate property recognized by the 1855 classification, and even though Lafite could also absorb Duhart into Lafite and increase production, they are committed to this property. Charles commented how he thinks, ‘Duhart is the investment wine.’

The 2008 Carruades de Lafite was a blend of 51% Cabernet and 45% Merlot, and it had a grapy, inky nose. There was pleasant musk and a sprinkle of dusty chocolate. Its fruit was fat, grapy and nutty with hints of lavender. The palate has nice richness, mostly baby fat, and its vimful finish had nice leather qualities. One could see the Merlot here, and hints of coffee grinds rounded out its finish (91).

The 2008 Duhart Milon had more reserve to it, showing only cedar and cinnamon at first. Its classic style had only a hint of that baby fat fruit in the background that a young claret usually displays nowadays. The palate was mild and elegant, not fat, possessing nice cedar flavors. Its drier tannins proved more serious than the Carruades, with real lift on the finish. Charles admired its ‘fresh fruit, good acidity and supple tannins.’ He kept going back to the word freshness (93).

The 2008 Lafite Rothschild had a distinguished nose, and a warm, oven-baked goodness to its nose, just like Mom used to make lol. There was not only cinnamon, but more really cinnamon toast with a granulated sweetness and even a hint of butter. Its deep fruit was laying low in the background, also elegant and reserved like its sibling Duhart, but more omni-present. There were blacker fruit flavors here, with lots of supporting, youthful leather. Its finish was fuller, longer, deeper and stronger than the Duhart, very dry times two with its powerful tannins. Its serious length kept going and going, and Charles commented how ‘great terroirs auto-regulate pH, acid and alcohol’ (95).

It was off to Mouton to do a similar lineup, beginning with the 2008 D’Armailhac. There was nice toast and a pungent, Windex core with meaty cassis and solid minerals. Its palate was round and pleasant with nice flavors of smokehouse, cassis and coffee, but it was clearly simpler, especially after tasting the Mouton, which dropped it like a pretender (89).

The 2008 Clerc Milon gave me a similar impression that the Duhart did after tasting the Carruades. There was lots of cinnamon and more reserve here, although there was more purple floral action here. Round, soft and simple, it was very good but not as good as the Duhart (91).

The 2008 Le Petit Mouton is a relatively new wine for the Chateau, and perhaps they should relegate it back to the cellar for a few more years, as it was quite average at best. Its nose was gassy and possessed a lot of farm action, and not in a good way. I’m talking compost, animal, wet hay. The palate was aggravatingly pungent and difficult to drink, although it did get a little better with some air. Perhaps it was just this particular bottle (80?).

Thankfully, there was still the 2008 Mouton Rothschild. ‘Back to Jesus,’ I wrote. The nose was distinguished and elegant, long and foresty with lots of Asian and cinnamon spice. The palate was clearly outstanding from first sip. There was great balance yet also deft agility to its clean, long and fresh personality. There were great flavors of cedar and this hybrid of chocolate and caramel that was dry and not sweet. The nose produced a secondary hint of waterfall, and a hint of animal and fur joined the palate. The ’08 Mouton had great pitch, and was ‘fat’ per Bipin. It was definitely had more game than the Lafite, and in New York City, that would be a good thing 🙂 (95).

It was off to Margaux, where the incredibly warm and welcoming Paul Pontallier was at our service. Whenever I see Paul, I just feel like I am at home, no matter where I am. He is a true ambassador for Bordeaux and, of course, Chateau Margaux. We started with a 2008 Pavillon Rouge du Chateau Margaux. Its nose was pretty, perfumed yet full. There were still stern minerals enveloping its backbone of fruit. Earth and minerals kept creeping out more, as did a hint of hay. The palate was fresh, light and pleasing, but still cedary and with some heat and a touch of spiciness on its finish. The palate was clean, showing mahogany flavors. Paul admired its ‘purity and aromatic complexity’ (91).

We talked a bit about the 2008 vintage for a minute with Paul. ‘The freshness of the vintage and the fact that it is easy to drink is equal to the 2004. It is not as dense and packed as ’06, but it is easier to drink. There are good levels of ripeness, balance and density, but it is softer and doesn’t pretend to be a great vintage. At the same time, Pavillon Rouge will be great to drink after 20 years. 1999, 2001, 2004 and 2008 are the key vintages for the cellar, as they are delicious and will be for at least another twenty to thirty years.’

We were told that the 2008 Margaux was almost 90% Cabernet. The nose was fine and elegant like the back of a woman’s neck. It had a hint of everything ”“ iron, spice, cedar, cinnamon, musk and purple fruits and flowers. Its aromas were so long in an elegant way, but its palate was rich and expansive. Bipin found ‘the end of mouth amazing.’ Rich and delicious, this was the tastiest of the First Growths that we had sampled on this afternoon, and while it still had backside, it was more reined in and balanced than either of the Rothschilds, aka not as powerful. Someone noted, ‘great length and nice density.’ There was a hint of field green in a great way that someone called ‘fresh mint,’ and Agent Woolls found its ripeness typical of Napa mountain fruit. It certainly was the most drinkable and charming of the Firsts (94).

We were treated to a couple of other recent vintages, beginning with the 2007 Margaux, which was bottled five months prior. The nose was quite mild compared to the 2008, with a hint of wet hay and light spice cabinet. Bipin liked its nose and perfume, and a little iron rounded out the nose. The palate was round but soft, ‘elegant and silky,’ but light in its tannins. It was pleasant and easy, but deceptively so as it kept gaining in the glass with time. I think it still had a bit of bottle shock to shake off, as it soon became excellent, giving off what I called, ‘Thanksgiving sex appeal.’ That’s when you get to baste the turkey 🙂 (93).

We expected 2006 to be next but were treated to the 2005 Margaux instead! At first, the ’05 seemed very shut down. While there was cedar and dust there, I was shocked to find that Paul had already decanted the 2005 for two hours! It was still closed. Hints of black fruits tapped at the surface, almost begging to come out but unable to climb past the glass walls that encased them. The palate, however, was very concentrated, almost jammy because it was so rich. Hints of coffee and tree flirted with my palate, and Paul admired ‘the volume.’ It was a great wine ”“ elegant and silky inside with a big body in which to house it all (96+).

Unfortunately, there was no time to dilly dally, as dinner back at Chateau Lafite was in less than thirty minutes. We would see Paul again there soon.

Every year, Bipin holds ‘Bipin’s Thanksgiving’ at Chateau Lafite in the month of December. This happened to be Bipin’s 25th Anniversary of said holiday feast. As the French would say, ‘incroyable!’ He always invites a great winemaker and some of their wines from another significant region, such as Egon Muller and Monsieur Perrin in previous years that I have attended. This year we would pay homage to the wines of Comte de Vogue, represented by Jean-Luc Pepin. The guest list was a who’s who of the Bordeaux world such as Anthony Barton, Herve Berland, Hubert de Bouard, Jean-Michel Cazes, Charles Chevallier, Jean-Bernard and Jean-Philippe Delmas, John Kolasa, Thierry Manoncourt, Paul Pontallier, Jean-Guillaume Prats and Christophe Salin amongst others. Before the night was over, we would sample at least twenty wines from a combination of the cellars of Vogue and the 1989 vintage in Bordeaux. Let the games begin.

Everyone arrived over some 1999 Jacques Selosses Vintage Champagne. The vintage Selosses is incredibly rare, as he made only approximately 2000 bottles of the 1999! I recently did a massive Selsosses tasting, so I will get more into him at a later date, but this ’99 was fantastic. Wolfgang was loving it, which is always a good sign for a domaine that it has done something right. He called it ‘super, a little toasty, but it stays in my mouth for minutes.’ It was long and clearly the best 1999 that I have had so far. It was quite big for a 100% Blanc de Blancs (all chardonnay grapes), very full and forward as well. Its gritty and grainy finish was well-defined, and its palate packed big and bready flavors. If only Selosses focused more on making vintage wines as opposed to solera, multi-vintage cuvees, he would already be on everyone’s top ten list in Champagne (95).

Jean-Luc gave us a brief introduction about Vogue, reminding us how it was still family owned, dating back to the 15th century. George Vogue had a daughter who died in 2002 and left it to her two daughters. 1993 was the last vintage of Musigny Blanc, as they replanted the vineyard with young vines and now call it Bourgogne Blanc. When the vines are old enough again, we will have Musigny Blanc again, although technically it is still Musigny Blanc now. I believe he also said that any fruit that comes from vines less than 25 years of age will not go into the standard Musigny Rouge. I also learned later on that the Domaine has no records of ever making two different Musignys. This was in regard to a question about the fact that sometimes there are older bottles of Vogue that just say Musigny as opposed to ‘Vieilles Vignes.’ Since Vogue worked with about a half-dozen different suppliers, to whom they sold barrels and provided labels, some requested that it just said Musigny. So, any Vogue Musigny should be the same as a Vogue Musigny ‘Vieilles Vignes.’ Interesting stuff.

We began with some Bourgogne, the 2004 Comte de Vogue Bourgogne Blanc, to be exact. It had a smoky nose and was typical 2004 with its clean fruit, touch of sweet citrus, hints of waterfall and dust. The palate was smooth, long and pretty, solid stuff. There was hidden acidity here, like a big backside masked in a flattering dress. There were great smoky flavors with twists of lime. John Kolasa noted ‘flint stone’ (93).

The 1999 Comte de Vogue Bourgogne Blanc unfortunately suffered from some premature oxidation. It wasn’t intolerable, but it was there. A hint of banana peel slipped its way through, as did sawdust, but the wine was forward and gamy. The palate was big but full of tutti-frutti flavors, a sure sign of premox. There was so much muscle to the palate, typical of 1999 which is a brawny vintage, but unfortunately, I could not form a complete picture of the wine. Thierry Manoncourt said something funny in French, but I can’t read my own writing now. Man, it’s early for that (92+A).

The 1992 Vogue Musigny Blanc was very forward in that 1992 style. Its nose possessed aromas of rainwater and dirty back alley, along with orange blossoms heading south for the winter. It reminded me of a wine that would be drunk in Sin City, as in the movie. The palate was round and with a hint of metal without being metallic. Its white fruit flavors were starting to turn. Drink up (89).

We marched on to the reds, beginning with a 1985 Vogue Musigny Vieilles Vignes out of magnum. Its nose was open and minty, full of damp earth and crushed mint leaves. Its fruit was definitely in the background, and there was a hint of beef. The palate, however, was full of red fruits, vitamins, stems and stalks, much more powerful than I expected, perhaps aided by the magnum format. There was nice, taut ripeness and a flash of game, along with nice definition on its finish. It got more wild in the glass, and for some reason I thought of ‘The Fly.’ This was tasty and excellent (94M).

The 1993 Vogue Musigny Vieilles Vignes elicited a ‘hello Dolly’ from me. There was a big frame here, encasing deep, subtle and inviting fruit. The wine was far from obvious, and its earth, vitamin shavings, dark chocolate and forest floor reminded me of why 1993 is such a great vintage. It will be one of the years Burgundy lovers will continue to seek out for decades. There was a lot going on in this wine. The palate was big yet sensual, long yet fine with a great mix of fruit and finish. It was flat out great, still young but approachable. Its skin has been shed, but this snake still has bite and plenty of venom left! It was big yet agile in a kick your ass kind of way. The acidity lingered for over a minute after it went down down down down down (96).

The 1999 Vogue Musigny Vieilles Vignes was much shier than the 1993, more masked in its personality. It showed more nut in the nose with pinches of stems and gas. It came across brawny after the swift and cut 1993. Kosala found it ‘elegant but not as complex.’ There was this hint of New World, like Pinot in a beefy, California way. The palate had traces of fig, beef and game, but this was not exactly the home run I was looking for, given the home run that this vintage is in Burgundy. More acidity came out with some food, but I was disappointed, I must admit (93).

The 2006 Vogue Musigny Vieilles Vignes was pure and transparent; what you smelled is what you got. Aromas of red cherry, vitamins and stems were bright yet thick. The palate was a lot richer than the nose, also thick. It felt big despite still possessing some baby fat. The ’06 took it step by step, as if it knew it could roar, but decided against it until it was really ready to let it rip. I am a fan of this vintage, and I look forward to trying this wine many times over the course of its evolution (95).

Jean-Michel Cazes admired them, saying they were ‘all quite good yet all different.’ Someone asked Jean-Luc whether 2006 was similar to 1985, and he replied that there is ‘better acidity in ’06.’ He also called Musigny ‘aloof’ in its personality. The Moose can be loose, and now it can be aloof, too :).

It was on to Bordeaux and a 1989 retrospective orchestrated by the maestro known as Bipin. And why not? It was twenty years after the fact, and a perfect time to check in on this highly regarded yet controversial vintage. We would soon see why.

We started with a trio of St. Emilions, beginning with the 1989 Canon, served out of magnum. Its nose possessed nice aromas of olive, black fruits, fig confiture and a hint of winter. It was classic, smooth and tasty with flavors of black fruits, olive, wheat and leather (93M).

The 1989 Figeac was similar, with more olive and green goodness. Olive, more olives and even olive oil danced like Zorba around its nose. It was very bright and forward. The palate had lots of olives as well, but more black in flavor. Long and stylish, the palate was sexier than I thought it would be. The wine wasn’t one of the greatest Figeacs ever, but it was just delicious, a wine that didn’t have to be over-analyzed because it was just damn good to drink. Why is the oldest and most experienced man in St. Emilion, who is still going strong at age 94-ish, still its best-kept secret (94)?

The 1989 L’Angelus was deeper, nuttier and thicker than the first two wines, possessing aromas of peanut and black cherry. Its flavors were much blacker as well, invoking feelings of tar, asphalt, chocolate and black fruits. It tasted like it was on steroids compared to the first two wines. It was big, beefy and long, but not really my style, especially after the first two classics (92).

We crossed over to the Left Bank and begun with the 1989 Leoville Barton. Its nose was yeasty with traces of oatmeal. It had a lot of black fruits, with pinches of chocolate and windex. As most Leoville Bartons are, the 1989 had significant power on the palate, expressing big-time alcohol and acidity. Leave it to Bordeaux’s British ambassador to add the most oomph (93+).

Waterfall came first in the nose of the 1989 Lynch Bages, which is not that common in Bordeaux. There was a bit of stable in the nose, but not really quite that. There was some espresso, but not really quite that, either. Cola, that was there really, as was peanut J. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks ”“ sautéed string beans yum! The palate was big and rich, quite enormous and even more impressive in its power than the Leoville Barton. There was enough alcohol here for a high school prom. The ’89 was still quite young. It was big, black and dark. Did someone say something about”¦.never mind (95).

I liked the 1989 Cos d’Estournel, which was classic all the way around. There was nice balance between its t ‘n a in the nose, with aromas of peanut, cassis and black fruits. The palate was rich and long, possessing nice spice and a big character (94).

I have always preferred the 1989 Montrose to the 1990, and this bottle reminded me why. Its nose was yeasty and earthy, quite sexy in a black and blue way. Kosala found it the ‘tightest’ of the Left Bankers so far, and someone else found it ‘the most masculine.’ It was clearly special, with flavors of oil, ink and hints of animal just starting to show some skin (95).

We segued to the First Growths with a 1989 Cheval Blanc, a First Growth in its own right. The Cheval was very aromatic with its olive, black and red fruits, and oak trees covered in snow. I was under-impressed the first time I had this wine many years ago, but every time I have had it since, it keeps getting better (93+).

The 1989 Margaux had a tender nose with hints of semi-sweet fruit, both black and purple. The palate was a bit watery for lack of a better word, and its flavors were pleasant but not great (92).

The 1989 Lafite Rothschild was classic with its cedar and cassis combination, and hints of oatmeal and sugar rounded out its nose. Again, that water showed up on the palate, although the Lafite did come across a touch fuller and more balanced than the Margaux. Its acidity was still long (93).

The 1989 Mouton Rothschild had more charcoal in its smoky nose, and its palate was similar with cedar flavors as well. It was similar to the Lafite in style and personality except for the charcoal (93).

And then came the 1989 Haut Brion. The 1989 Haut Brion proceeded to just blow everything away. This was like UConn coming to town to play a game of women’s basketball against any of your female population. Dick Vitale would of course cover the game and find it ‘Awesome baby!!!!’ It again proved why it is one of the greatest wines of all-time. Its length, depth, breadth and soul are pillars of strength that will always support the argument that Bordeaux produces the best wines in the world. Easy Burghounds, I said argument! What a wine. I did find this bottle just a hair drier than usual, but it was still extraordinary juice, just a step behind the usual 99 point experience, you’ll have to forgive it (98).

How could all the Super Seconds outshine the Firsts? Haut Brion is clearly an exception to the 1989 rule, as it was a vintage where the wine gods shined brightly on Graves and Pomerol. Everyone else had a tougher time, however. It was a very hot vintage, and obviously some had difficulty managing that heat. 1990 was a much more classic vintage by Mother Nature’s standards. 1989 will always be a vintage known for two of the greatest Bordeaux ever made, Haut Brion and Petrus, but it did not produce quality across the board like a true great vintage should, and the First Growths, outside of Haut Brion, universally underperformed, even Latour (you can ask Bipin why there was no Latour served). This is why 1989 will always be controversial. We still saw that quality could be produced in the Northern part of the Left Bank, but 1989 will never receive the accolades of other great vintages due to the overall quality of the First Growths relative to other years. How did this happen? I didn’t dig deeper, sorry, it was late and approaching 5am, NY time, where I started my day the night before. What surprised me the most was how the Super Seconds were cumulatively better than the Firsts, taking Haut Brion out of the picture. 1989 must have been a blue moon vintage, or something of the sorts, as you don’t see that too often.

The next day saw us at Haut Brion, where we tasted a horizontal of 2007s before lunch. They were not ready to show their 2008s at this time. I think they were recently bottled, or something technical of the sorts. The 2007 La Chapelle de la Mission had a nice, chocolaty style with a gravelly edge. The nose was chunky and possessed some depth. The palate was round and lush with nice dryness, cassis and charcoal flavors. Pleasant and easy, this second wine also had nice acidity (90).

2007 was the first vintage for Haut Brion’s new second wine. The 2007 Le Clarence de Haut Brion effectively replaces the Bahans Haut Brion. It had a similar nose to the La Chapelle but was a bit more elegant and regal, still a bit chocolaty but less so. The palate was brighter and more vimful, possessing sawdust and cedar flavors and hints of citrus (91).

The 2007 La Mission Haut Brion was like the La Chapelle, but more grainy in its nose. There were aromas of fresh field and stalk, coffee and lots more reserve and breed. The palate was very tight, not giving a lot, very dry and citrusy. The La Chapelle was more enjoyable at this stage, but the La Mission is clearly the better wine (92+).

They only made 8800 cases of the 2007 Haut Brion, compared to 13,000 cases in 2004. (La Mission made 4500 versus 7500 fyi). The Haut Brion had a great nose, all about the earth, and so regal at the same time. There were hints of roasted nuts, some honey and a twist of lime. The fruit was richer than the La Miss. Someone said, ‘2007 equals charm and pleasure, while 2008 is tighter and tougher in style.’ There were hints of animal to its nice, rich fruit. Its excellent finish had great balance between its tannins, alcohol and acidity. Its acidity kept extending (94).

The 2007 Laville Haut Brion was very gamy in its pungent nose with aromas of straw, hay, chicken coop and glue. The palate was lemony and melony, a bit tangy with lots of vitamin flavors on its finish. There is much more Semillon (80%) in the Laville than the Haut Brion Blanc that followed (92).

The 2007 Haut Brion Blanc is usually a 50/50 blend of Semillon and Sauvignon Blanc, although there was 55% Sauvignon Blanc in 2007. Only 600 cases were made. The nose was distinct Haut Brion Blanc; there was this great core of pungent minerality and sweet honey, along with glue, limestone and a tropical kink. The palate was outstanding with great flavors of slightly sweet honeydew and guava. Bipin found it ‘amazing’ and Wolf ‘racy.’ It was lush yet taut, long, regal and stylish”¦flat out great (95).

Lunch was served, and we continued on with another couple of whites, this time with a little more age. The 2005 Laville Haut Brion was more taut than the ’07 despite being a couple years older. Classic aromas of minerals and glue oversaw its big, alcoholic palate. There were flavors of glue, straw and honeycomb. The ’95 was stony, full, long and impressive, balanced and deft despite an oversized personality (94).

A 2001 Haut Brion Blanc was a bit oxidized. It was very open and gamy, really forward and seemingly off. I couldn’t quite tell if this was just the style of the wine in 2001, or an affected bottle. Even bottles direct from the Chateau can have problems, I suppose (90?).

The 2001 La Mission Haut Brion was rich and hearty with a long finish full of acid. The fruit was a touch gamy as well with a hint of marzipan, maybe it was a 2001 thing after all. Creamy flavors of dates and chocolate were present in this saucy wine (91+).

My last wine on this trip to Bordeaux was a 1986 Haut Brion. Even though it was a new day, and this was only wine number ten of said day, I couldn’t read half my note, how fitting. The ’86 had a deep nose, coming on slowly and surely. It was big and zippy with flavors of grape, carob and light slate. I was surprised how lush and open this wine was on the palate, as ’86 is a tannic year. This ’86 was delicious and flavorful, showing quite well at the moment (93).

24 hours, 44 wines and no casualties. Mission accomplished.

Big Boy has a lot of monopolies. One of them is great wine events in the month of December. Tradition always has me chez Rosania on New Year’s Eve, and previous articles of his incredible events to ring in the New Year have already been published for the last few years. After 2009, someone needs to call the FTC, because this past New Year’s Eve, it officially got out of hand, in the greatest sense possible.

I arrived a bit late and missed a handful of things, like 1989 Krug, 1989 Krug Clos du Mesnil and 1979 Pommery. Oh, well. Other commitments had me on the tardy side, but I was able to get in the swing of things rather quickly. By the time I arrived, Slover, who was to be helping everyone keep up with the onslaught of wines all night, was already a couple blocks away in Lenox Hill Hospital from a sabering accident. It just goes to show all you kids out there that sabering is not something that should be done unless under proper adult supervision. Four stitches later, however, Slover had admirably recovered and was back at wine control, albeit a little limp-wristed for the rest of the evening.

Every wine was served out of at least magnum, with a few Jeros making their way into the lineup later in the evening. The theme of the evening was vintages ending in the year ‘9,’ which is probably the luckiest number when it comes to vintages of the last 100 years.

The first wine on which I laid my lips was a 1979 Krug Collection. It was the same as it ever was, still very young and at least a decade away from being approachable if you ask me. Its finish requires rocket fuel, as it has that much power and acidity. Hints of milk and wood were a bit out of sync from other recent experiences. Gentleman Jim noted, ‘light in its flavors like an Angel Food Cake.’ Indeed, the 1979 Krug Collection is all about the backside at the moment, but there is enough there to merit an outstanding rating, although this particular magnum didn’t make me want to add a ‘plus’ sign as usual (95M).

A 1979 Pol Roger Cuvee Sir Winston Churchill was a bit disappointing. Nothing was wrong with the bottle, but it seemed to lack that boom boom pow. As Big Boy observed, ‘it was a little light and didn’t pop.’ The nose was stone city. The palate was long, gritty and grainy with white fruits and wheat, but I expected more from this normally outstanding cuvee (92M).

The ‘regular’ 1979 Krug was fantastic. The nose was big, bready and toasty with hints of egg, varnish and mahogany. It was deep, open, rich and expressive with lots of meaty, gamy fruit. The palate also had great fruit and finish; its flavors were open and hinting at key lime, while its length was still impressive, indicating that the words ‘Collection’ and ‘Clos du Mesnil’ are not necessary for a Krug to be ageworthy (96M).

It was time for some red wines, and Big Boy was in a Pomerol state of mind. We warmed up with the 1989 Petrus. Man, I love this wine. 1989 is clearly the greatest modern-day Petrus, the one against which all others should be measured. We’ll see how vintages like 1998, 2000 and 2005 develop, but they will all have to answer to this vintage. The ’89 was unreal as always, even more of a behemoth out of magnum, infantile in its initial expression, and all the more brooding. There was still fruit showing, and its acidity was hidden at first but slowly uncoiled to reveal regality. Big Boy observed its ‘vahlrona chocolate.’ This wine was quite hedonistic, packed and stacked with chocolate, plums and earth, adding up to near-perfection again (99M).

The Petrus was paired with a 1989 Lafleur out of double-magnum. Dapper Dave noted, ‘leaner but more open, great.’ He preferred the nose of the Lafleur and the palate of the Petrus. The Lafleur was definitely more fragrant, with hints of olive to go with classic Pomerol fruit. I was surprised by the Lafleur’s approachability, especially since it was out of double magnum, and even more so since this wine has blown me away with its power on more than one occasion out of standard bottle. There was long acidity and chalky flavors here, and the crowd observed ‘porcini’ and ‘Nebbiolo cherry.’ It was still outstanding, but this wine should be in that 97-99 point category, and this double magnum wasn’t (95D).

A pair of 1949 magnums were next, also from the Holy Land known as Pomerol. When it comes to magnums of 1940s Pomerols, you either believe or you don’t, so all non-believers can feel free to skip the next two paragraphs. Anyone who was treated to a glass of either wine, however, would find it difficult to say anything negative or defamatory about either of these two nectars.

The first was a 1949 Clos L’Eglise Clinet, which had what I would call a ‘typical’ Nicolas Pomerol profile. Both magnums were Nicolas bottles, by the way. Plum, olive and lots of chocolate were in the nose; its core was sweet and musky. The palate was quite similar, very satiny and smooth, polished and chocolaty, easy and delicious (94M).

The 1949 Latour a Pomerol was another beauty, although I wanted to see what others had to say first, so I put Slover on the spot. ‘Smells great,’ was his first reaction, ‘lots of olive. The color seems youthful, but the palate is so relaxed it could be that old, amazing.’ Every sip I took, this wine became more impressive, and not because it gained power in the glass. Like a wine of this age should, it unfolded different layers as opposed to gaining steam. The classic Pomerol was there, particularly the olive and plum, with more cassis and less chocolate than the L’Eglise. It was sheer deliciousness, even more so than the L’Eglise Clinet because its fruit was purer. The L a P was decadent but light on its feet. Gorgeous and pretty were two words that came to mind in describing this ancient wonder. That hint of fresh garden unfolded, and the Latour a Pomerol left the L’Eglise behind. Hints of slate also unfolded, as did ‘Mexican coffee’ per someone. Arriba arriba (96M).

A perfect magnum of 1979 Louis Roederer Cristal snuck in right before Midnight. Aromas of sweet golden corn and yellow straw combined with ‘creamsicle’ ones, per Dapper Dave. It was elegant yet powerful, absolutely sizzling on the palate with its racy acidity and expressive bubbles. Creamy and somehow integrated despite all that fizz, the 1979 was another example of why Cristal is not just a name (96+M).

Midnight struck, and Big Boy gave one of his notorious speeches. There were many warm and fuzzy things said, one of which wasn’t ‘I can’t wait to get rid of this f’ing decade’ lol. Out came a Rehoboam of 1959 Moet. I think that is somewhere between Jero and Methusaleh, just don’t miss that right turn in Reims. I am pretty sure this was the first one of these opened in 2010, and possibly the last one that ever will be. The nose was clean with light citrus and apple with pinches of musk, anise and truffle. The palate was a bit tangy for me, its bubbles just hanging on despite the fact that there was no oxidation here. Its wine-like personality was very oily, but its flavors just didn’t do it for me. I like to stick to the pre-Dom Perignon Moets, personally (88R).

There were a couple more bubblies before we went to Burgundy. A 1979 Taittinger Comtes de Champagne Rose was race car city at first, fresh and zippy both in the nose and palate of this perfectly stored magnum. ‘Zippedy doo dah’ summed it up. There were nice, secondary strawberry aromas, but the palate was tight and almost a bit mean, super dry and rocket-like in its finish. Olof thundered in from the North, took off his horns and aptly came up with ‘a little white asparagus, platinum and copper.’ He then proceeded to impale someone who disagreed with him. Someone else appreciated its ‘good stank.’ Kayne West would have described it as ‘bright funky earthy fresh,’ as I wrote, and Big Boy lobbied for 96 points, but I told him it just wasn’t showing enough yet for that (95+M).

A jeroboam of 1949 Pommery was coffee city. It was mature and rich with luscious, earthy and dirty white chocolate flavors. These old Pommerys can be all-star material, but even bottles that aren’t at their best are still always good everyday players. This jero was a touch mature but still creamy and lush, arguably slightly affected but still excellent (93J).

It was time for some Burgundy, and Big Boy delivered a 1-2 knockout punch that would have settled this whole Mayweather-Pacquiao BS by leaving them both lying on the canvas, wondering what hit them. A magnum of 1969 Rousseau Chambertin, the one and only in Rob’s collection, was incredible. Wendy was going crazy over it; this was as excited as I have ever seen her over a given wine, and as the honorary ‘Angry Woman,’ she has seen a lot of greatness for sure. Rousseau undoubtedly made the wines of the vintage in 1969; what he did in this year is nothing short of spectacular given how most other wines from the vintage are showing. Words like ‘unreal, great, rich and spectacular’ graced my notes. The fruit and finish were both extraordinary. Citrus and rose blended together with tomato and rust to form an exemplary combination that left my palate watering for more. It remains a benchmark wine not only for 1969, but also for Burgundy (97M).

The wine that followed took it up another notch. The jero of 1959 La Tache quickly laid claim to wine of 2010 with its incredible nose. It was and LT all the way, one of the best examples of this wine that I have ever had. I have rated it as high as 99 points, but that was over five years ago and I have not had it hit the heights ever since until now. Smoke, mesquite, rose, rust, tomato, citrus, iron, cola, vine and more rust were all balanced by great acidity. This wine was so intense it made Big Boy look passive. Secondary aromas and flavors of bouillon joined the party, as did ‘perfect violet’ per Wendy. One couldn’t deny the style or greatness of here; kudos once again to the greatest producer of wine in the world (98+J).

A half-dozen Champagnes slowly rounded out the evening, which was ultimately to end at 4am. We came down back to earth with a magnum of 1970 Veuve Clicquot Rose. Its nose was yeasty and full of vitamins, mature and warm. I noted flavors of orange blossom and tangerine, while Cliff found ‘orange Sunkist wedges.’ Wendy called it ‘a bit tropical, watermelon and persimmon”¦confectionary’ (93M).

The 1949 Louis Roederer was quickly crowned ‘Champagne of the night’ by the King of Champagne. Anyone who disagreed would quickly be banished from the kingdom, so good thing he was right. Rizzo observed ‘butter toffee,’ and it was housed in vanilla city. Hints of root beer, coconut liqueur and ‘salt water taffy’ per Cliff rounded out its exotic nose. Its flavors were all about the butter ”“ that butter toffee, butter rum and even butterscotch got into the game, all dry and all great (97M).

The crown of Champagne of the night didn’t last long, as I liked the magnum of 1959 Pol Roger even a touch more. Its nose was crystal clear with divine yellow fruits. Its palate was fantastic; it was big and smooth, force without mass. It was deliciously buttery without any of the sweet butter qualities and kinkiness of the ’49 Roederer. It was classic in the ‘Fall’ sense of the word, Yankees style (97+M).

A 1959 Veuve Clicquot was outstanding. It tasted (and looked) more recently disgorged than not. It was strong, long and full of song. Well, that’s what I wrote. It was getting to that point in the evening where I was about to be full of something else 🙂 (95M).

The 1969 Taittinger Comtes de Champagne was exotically good, as usual for old C de C’s. Butterscotch and lemon/lime were present in this fresh and well-stored magnum. I can’t exactly read what I wrote, it looks something like ‘anal’ and ‘great,’ but since my memory is fuzzy around this point, let’s hope it wasn’t exactly that lol (95+M).

The 1929 Louis Roederer was ‘unreal great.’ I wish I could tell you more about it, but the pen had officially fallen off the page. I do remember that it was a continuance in style of the 1949, though less exotic and more mellow, definitely close to divine (96M).

Oh, what a night, and thanks again to the most generous host in the world today. Here’s to 2010 being another year filled with great friends and great bottles