I interrupt my natural progression through some of this Fall’s more noteworthy wine evenings in order to bring you notes from a night last week that was so extraordinary, it immediately went to the top of my pile, easily one of the ‘nights of the year,’ so to speak. And there were only three of us.

I have often joked in years past about the two Jef(f)s in Los Angeles who share a last name (despite different spellings), the ‘good’ Jef being one of my close friends. Well, the, um, let’s call him ‘other’ Jeff, was in town on his way back from two weeks in Bordeaux and reached out to get together with myself and another special guest a couple months ago, and the evening was finally upon us. This other Jeff was fresh off an evening in Baltimore with Mr. Parker himself, drinking 1961 La Chapelle from Bob’s cellar amongst other goodies. It is, in fact, on Mr. Parker’s website where you will often find the other Jeff posting away on a daily basis, to which his thousands of posts will attest. When you talk that much on web bulletin boards, you are bound to find some people disagreeing with you, but after this evening, I can safely say that both Jef(f)s in LA are now ‘good’ in my book.

We were joined by one of New York’s empirical collectors, one who used to have an Airplane in his nickname, but after this night, he will only be known as ‘The Punisher,’ because he just punished us with incredibly rare wine after another until we couldn’t drink no more. And there were still another eight or ten bottles in tow if necessary!

Acrobatic/exotic/unique chef Wylie Dufresene’s 12-course tasting menu (at WD-50) also filled us to the gills, but was absolutely critical in soaking up the awesome arsenal of insane wines to which we would be privy on this special night.

I was sitting at the bar for about twenty minutes, not knowing that Jeff and The Punisher were waiting patiently in a booth in the back. I finally called The Punisher, perplexed as to how both of them could be so late ”“ was my calendar wrong? This was the right restaurant, no? I was not wrong in either regard. Bad hostess, bad bad bad bad girl! Thankfully, I hadn’t missed much. Jeff and The Punisher were casually sipping on a 1900 Pichon Baron and had not gotten any further. In advance, Jeff offered up a 1989 Rayas, and I a 1993 Mugnier Musigny, although I changed up to a 1978 Ponsot Clos de la Roche at the last second due to circumstance”¦and still had the Mugnier, of course, just in case. The Punisher had assured us in advance that he ‘should be able to find something,’ and knowing his cellar already, that was good enough for us.

Ok, time for some notes. The 1900 Pichon Baron had a deep nose, still with a wealth of fruit despite a healthy whiff of oak at first. Aromas of peanut and walnut were also there, and with some extended aeration and swirling action, the oak settled down into more of a benevolent cedar, along with some creepy caramel and sawdust. The palate was rich and luscious. The Punisher remarked how he liked the ‘nose more than the mouth,’ and Jeff agreed, finding it ‘a hair short and a bit taut,’ but make no doubt about it, this bottle was in fabulous condition, still fresh for age 109 despite no signs of reconditioning. It was a natural fresh; it doesn’t get any better than that for old wine. There was a little bit of locker room funk that emerged, but this ancient rarity was still a tasty treat and an impressive bottle (92).

We jumped into my 1978 Ponsot Clos de la Roche. It was actually graciously given to me to taste from a case by a potential seller, as some of the color was off in a few but not all of the bottles, per his ethical acknowledgement. The nose was at first minty, beefy and chocolaty, also ‘foresty’ per The Punisher. Hints of tea rounded out its nose. The palate was rich and round, tender yet long, and tasty in a sweet, brothy, bouillon way with a hint of citrus. Autumnal flavors of forest and damp earth were present, along with game, browned fruit, beef and chocolate. There was still nice tannin definition to its cedary finish, and the wine possessed a little bit of that good dirty. The Punisher grimaced. ‘It is moving in a stewed direction.’ The wine was a bit exotic and unfortunately a bit affected, still good but not a perfect bottle (94A).

Jeff’s 1989 Rayas Chateauneuf du Pape followed, and it needed to be woken up a bit. A first there was a lot of sweet cherry, but in a cough syrupy way, with enough menthol in its nose to clear any sinus on any occasion. The palate was rich, hearty, decadent and delicious. Jeff questioned ‘a touch of volatile acidity?’ The Punisher noted, ‘Riesling diesel.’ The wine had amazing power and acidity, not to mention its sweet concentration. Its cherry flavors were superb, and garrigue and white pepper balanced it out perfectly. One could pick at it and call it ‘too sweet,’ but it was pretty delicious to me, and a wine that will age a long time (95+).

It was at this point where The Punisher took over. He told us how he recently bought this old cellar where the Pichon Baron came from and had brought a few others from it to try to make sure the cellar was good. Enter 1918 Ducru Beaucaillou. The Punisher was having a case of ‘deja-vu,’ as he felt ‘like I just drank this wine.’ The Ducru was lighter than the Pichon Baron, also possessing more sour cherry in the nose. The palate was a bit yeasty at first, with some morning mouth flavors on its finish and fruit that I would call on the tired side, despite the condition of the bottle being fine and fresh per my note on the Baron. Flavors of citrus, wheat, sour cherry and dust were here, and the wine grew on me, as I was again impressed by the condition of the wine, even if it was, perhaps, past its prime. Jeff picked up on secondary ‘butterscotch’ aromas, which I saw in a dry way. There were cobwebs on its tangy finish (90).

The Punisher pulled out a 1925 Mouton Rothschild next as if it was another weapon to help him carry out wine justice. Jeff immediately noted, ‘pretty Asian spice,’ and The Punisher ‘strawberry.’ Jeff countered with ‘tobacco and truffles.’ The Punisher then finished the rally with ‘a touch of salty vinegar and metal on the end.’ I saw all that and then some. The nose was like cobwebs meeting biscuits, and it was divinely sweet in a restrained and refined way. I was really digging the nose on this ’25, which I believe is the first Bordeaux I have ever even had from this rarely seen vintage. Its front and mid-palates were great, although the finish did have some of that awkward metal. Light Asian tea flavors and ‘rhubarb’ per Jeff were upfront in the mouth, and while the wine was soft and bright, its citrus flavors were a touch too tart (?), I questioned, and Jeff chimed in on that ‘hint of metal.’ With a little more air, its citrus flavors became great, and the palate leaned on the sexy side in a ballerina way with light brothy qualities. Light beef and previous citrus flavors gave way to old cherry vanilla ones in the end, and overall, this was an excellent Mouton, perhaps never to be experienced again (93).

‘Let’s try some ’01 Lafite,’ The Punisher pronounced. Jeff had to stop himself. He was wondering, why are we going to try something so young now, until he realized it was the 1901 Lafite Rothschild. Like, duh :). The nose said ‘wow,’ roaring to reveal this decadent, toasted caramel like Smores without the chocolate, made with caramel instead, and a hand-made Guy Savoy caramel at that. Jeff kicked in ‘gingerbread,’ and that he ‘would have guessed Right Bank’ if the wine had been served blind. This, too, had a light, deft edge that the previous wines from this cellar showed and again was fresh and lively. The palate had nice citrus hints and ‘light brown sugar’ flavors. This wine was absolutely delicious, and I loved it, giving it three yums. Even at the end of the night, it was still delicious, still classy and incredibly distinguished. Move over, 1900 (96+).

The Punisher was just warming up. I swear I heard the click of a shotgun, and out came a 1904 Lafite Rothschild. The sibling rivalry was on. There was more citrus in the ’04, and more floral qualities to its sweetness, but we could all see it was a sibling to the ’01. The 1904 was much lighter in the mouth, however, and no ’01 for sure. It had wafer and water flavors along with sour cherry, dust and cobwebs in an old cupboard. It was still pleasant but its palate didn’t live up to its nose; it was a big drop off (88).

The vertical continued with a 1905 Lafite Rothschild, which had a deeper and darker nose than the previous two and was the first of the Lafites to show black fruits in its nose. There was also this hint of windshield wiper, but not in a negative way. Again the palate was on the lighter side. These weren’t hallmark vintages, of course, so that should not be a surprise for hundred year-old wines from years that are not from those ‘vintages of the century.’ The palate was also round, possessing waterfall flavors and again those dusty cobwebs, this time wrapped around old books (90).

There was one more Lafite to this impromptu flight, a 1907 Lafite Rothschild. I asked the sommelier for his thoughts, to which he replied that it had ‘the most grip and is a lot bloodier in its flavors.’ The Punisher playfully asked me if I was trying to get the sommelier to write my notes for me lol. The 1907 was the most classic in my book, possessing rich cassis and cedar in its nose. There were flavors of band-aids and strawberry soup on the palate, which was again lighter but more substantial than the 1905. It developed nice baked aromas as well (92).

It was Mouton’s turn again, beginning with the 1929 Mouton Rothschild, whose nose was intriguing and exciting. It was deep, long and smoky and clearly great claret. It had hickory, cassis and cedar aromas, all working well together. The palate was another wine that could best be described as delicious. Rich and sweet, it had both great fruit and great finish, with coffee flavors on its long backside. It was saucy with black cherry flavors and a hint of grill. The only negative was that it got a touch figgy in the glass after some time, pulling it down from outstanding back into the excellent zone, even though that initial impression was without a doubt outstanding (94).

The 1928 Mouton Rothschild made for an interesting comparison. I have always liked both these vintages for Mouton despite a lack of critical acclaim, and this evening reinforced my internal beliefs. Jeff resurfaced to find the ’28 ‘minty,’ although The Punisher was a bit concerned with some ‘cardboard’ at first. I saw what he was saying, but likened it more to an un-fresh bathroom edge, with hints of chlorine, although black fruits kept trying to fight their way through. Thankfully, the ’28 tasted far better than it smelled. The ’28 was rich and chocolaty, beefy and saucy. There were lots of Vitamin C flavors surrounding its dusty and zippy, rich fruit. The Punisher noted ‘mushroomy’ qualities and found ‘the nose better on ’29, but the mouth better on ’28.’ The Punisher also found that the ’29 softened in the glass, as well, and I agreed that while the two were close in quality now, as time continues, the 1928 will distance itself more as the better wine. Only in Bordeaux can a wine at age eighty still have time to outdistance another similar vintage! Jeff was in the ’29 camp, however, rating it one point higher ‘for elegance.’ The ’28 got better and better, and its nose became integrated and less awkward (96).

I don’t think I could have eaten another crumb or drank another drop. It was at this point that I had to say, ‘I think that cellar’s good.’ What a cellar, and what a night. Somehow, I think that if we didn’t throw in the towel, we could have stayed until every bottle in The Punisher’s wine bag was done.

I bowed down before the wine superhero before me, meagerly offering up my unopened 1993 Mugnier as a token of my gratitude. It quickly got sucked into his arsenal with the ease of a gun being put back into the holster of a marksman. As I stumbled out of WD-50 into the cold, rainy New York night, all I could hear was the crowd cheering, ‘Ed-die, Ed-die, Ed-die”¦.’

On my last trip to Hong Kong, I was fortunate to sit down to a late dinner where only Krug was served, centered around a trio of 1996s, including the recently released Clos d’Ambonnay. New CEO Maggie Henriquez was in town, and we celebrated the then upcoming lots sourced directly from Krug’s cellars with some Krug, of course.

The 1996 Krug Clos du Mesnil was intense and deep like an abyss in its nose. Minerals, rocks, light citrus, wet earth and wheat aromas were present. There was still elegance in what could be called its sadistic nose, its power whipping my senses over and over again. The palate was lightning in a bottle; there was enough acidity for University chemistry courses. Someone remarked, ‘1996 is a 10/10 vintage for its acidity and alcohol.’ It would be tough to argue that this is not the Champagne of the vintage (98+).

The 1996 Krug Clos d’Ambonnay was more perfumed and sexier than the Clos du Mesnil. It was softer and more tender in its aromas, exuding hints of lime and ‘lemon soap.’ It was still quite deep and expansive. On the palate, it was elegant, and tender came to mind again. Its smooth and satiny style charmed me while its vim and spice picked my pocket. While classy and stylish, it was still powerful and possessed tremendous acidity. Decadent flavors of bread soaked in oil emerged. Tasting side by side with the 1996 Mesnil, they struck me as the perfect husband and wife, with the d’Ambonnay being all woman, and I say that with only the best connotations in mind (97).

The little ol’ ‘regular’ 1996 Krug wasn’t too shabby, either. It was clean, fresh and classic, quite zippy itself and noticeably special, even after the two monarchs that preceded. The palate was long, spicy, edgy and longgg. It will be fascinating to have these three together for the decades to come (96).

It was a youngie but a goodie night, as any night when Krug is served is. There is Champagne, and there is Krug”¦

I often title consignments we get directly from Europe ‘From Europe with Love,’ as I always love to get collections directly from there, and this November, I was in Europe on a couple of occasions and in love thanks to some fantastic wines and meals. Whenever in Europe, I am always in awe of the quality of food. From the everyday gas station quick mart to the greatest of restaurants, the food is far finer when it comes to Europe, and so are many of the wines. Thankfully, they sell more than they buy when it comes to the best of wines ”“ wine is almost regarded more like an everyday beverage, adult cola if you will. However, there still remain many incredible wines nestled away in some extraordinary cellars, as well as on numerous wine lists across the continent.

One of my trips was on the way to Hong Kong and begun near Milan, on a quiet little Lake named Como. I was there for a conference, but it was a lunch on the day of my arrival that was most noteworthy, consumption-wise, at least. It was an international get-together including a few fellow Americans and some European trade members. Lunch was actually in Switzerland, a mere ten minute drive away, and we pillaged a local wine list to celebrate our arrival.

We started with a 2005 Didier Dageneau Pouilly Fume Silex, one of the world’s most collectible Sauvignon Blancs. Dageneau recently passed away tragically while piloting his own plane. Although I had never met him, those that knew him say that he was one of the most adventurous people they have each encountered. The Silex was quite wound, full of structure, tight and pungent with lots of wooden match and icy yellow fruit aromas, with hints of minerals and pee. Its fruit was quite rich for a Sauv Blanc. Kevin found it ‘very tight’ as well, and it was quite shut down although lush. Kelly observed ‘grapefruit’ in the nose. Someone on a later date told me not to drink his wines for 10-15 years, and this ’05 showed me why. The flavors that did show were pungent. There were nice hints of tea on its finish, and Gil was admiring its hidden acidity. It did linger in the belly (92+).

It was truffle season, so we complemented a great pasta and truffle course with a 2001 Clerico Barolo Ginestra. Ironically, I had just had this wine four days prior in New York. It both started my week in New York and my weekend in Europe. It was classic Piedmont with its nose of leather, tar and pine nuts. Gil observed, ‘tomato salsa.’ There was lots of intense structure and great black fruits along with a hint of black jam, anise and mint chocolate. Kelly found ‘a lot of oak.’ The palate was thick on its finish, and a lot of oak did linger on its backside. It hinted at flavors of leather, tar and anise. The finish was smackingly good in that Barolo way (94).

A pair of 2005 Burgundies set the stage for a celebrity death match. The 2005 Rousseau Chambertin Clos de Beze was full of baby fat, although its fruit was still sexy with its red roses and raspberries. The wine had big lift in its nose but was so elegant at the same time. I think Kelly observed ‘Miracle Whip,’ to which Gil concurred, though he varied a bit, citing ‘more the blender ozone with the whip cream, totally with the metal.’ I found forest and crushed fruits. Kevin found it ‘very primary.’ The palate had hints of taut red fruits, forest and vitamins to go with leathery, stemmy flavors. There was definition and true grit here, but I found it almost too young to appreciate, and while still sexy, the wine that followed made it seem lighter and dare I say lesser (95+).

The 2005 La Tache had a much deeper nose with blacker fruits, more crushed and with more tea. There were also hints of citrus and wooden match again. The palate was grand but closed at first. It was long and stylish, complicated but so young. ‘See you in twenty years,’ I wrote. As I said before, when I went back to the Rousseau, the La Tache stood out more. It was deep, dark, black, large and in charge. I think King Angry has a fantasy about that, the 2005 La Tache, that is. It got better with each sip, flexing just a bit more when I thought it possibly couldn’t. It is one of the great young wines I have tasted (98).

We ended with a blind wine that had a nice nose for something very old, but not for a wine from 1985. The 1985 Pousse d’Or Volnay Clos des 60 Ouvrees had lots of animal and sweet, kinky fruit, along with leather, game and some Syrah bacon. There were also hints of powdered sugar, ‘the leather of Barolo’ per Kelly, big-time garden and lots of alcohol and acidity. Gil found ‘hints of B vitamin 6 and 12 and sautéed liver.’ Despite all that going on in the nose, the wine was tired on the palate, a bit rusty and with lots of citrus flavors. It was clearly an affected bottle, advanced and a bit cooked (91A).

The weekend had its share of interesting encounters, like dinner with Luciano Sandrone, lunch with Piero Antinori, a drink with Charles Banks as well as seeing some familiar friends such as Eric Rousseau and Louis Michel Liger-Belair. I tasted a pair of 2007s from Rousseau, the Clos St. Jacques and Clos de Beze, and I was impressed with them both. I asked Eric to compare 2007 to other vintages, and after some hesitation, he finally said that it was a combination of 2002 and 2001 if anything. I also grilled Sandrone about Italian vintages and his opinion of them all relative to each other, thanks to some deft translation courtesy of Gil. Here’s the brief synopsis: first, I asked him about 1989 vs. 1990, perhaps the two greatest back-to-back vintages in Italian history. Interestingly enough, Sandrone felt that almost no one hit the bullseye for both vintages; those that made great 1989s had issues in 1990 and visa-versa. When asked of the other three vintages from the ‘80s, (’82, ’85 and ’88), Sandrone felt that 1988s are really good wines, but they will always be in the shadow of the ‘89s and ‘90s. 1985s are starting to dry up, but 1982 is the true classic vintage that will continue to age for years to come. He gave the edge to 2001 over 2004, and the sleeper vintage that everyone seems to have forgotten is 1999, which he clearly feels made some great wines despite the fact that no one seems to notice at the moment. I could have sworn I asked him about 1996 vs. 1997, with 1996 prevailing, but I am not completely sure of that last one!

Happy Birthday to Me

My second trip to Europe took me to a top secret location and an extraordinary cellar, one that I was working on for our January auction. The depth and quantity here is extraordinary, and the older wines are in particularly spectacular condition. I was in awe of it for most of the weekend, and I am very excited to be representing it. I was most in awe for the two dinners where we sampled wines from the cellar, the first evening which saw me celebrate my 38th birthday. I hear the combination of three and eight is very lucky, and I am looking forward to this coming year accordingly.

The wines were served blind, and mercifully we were not left guessing for too long. The first wine on this starry night was a Champagne, one that I thought was a Rose but ultimately was not. I did guess late ‘60s/early 70s, and it was a 1971 Lanson Red Label, their top of the line cuvee at the time. Lanson made some great Champagne in the ‘70s; this I already knew, and this bottle backed up that fact. There were aromas of sweet faded roses, dried strawberry and breath mints, along with hints of dark chocolate and earth. There was nice, light petillance in the mouth, and our host noted flavors of ‘creamy caramel brioche.’ There were more citrus flavors on its really good finish, and its acidity was long and stylish, blending well with the citrus. Its flavors were sweet with hints of oil and more earth. I was surprised to see that it wasn’t Rose, but we were convinced that there was definitely a higher concentration of Pinot Noir in the blend. Great strawberry jam flavors developed in this outstanding bubbly (95).

A pair of whites followed, and the color was noticeably different in the two. The first was much lighter and hence younger. It almost gave off a Sauvignon Blanc impression in the nose, but its palate was definitively Chardonnay. The nose was clean and fresh with a pungent core; it was taut and citrusy, wrapped around an obsidian-like minerality on a bed of honeysuckle fruit. The palate was very rich with lots of acidity and noticeably strong alcohol. Its honeysuckle qualities came on stronger and stronger and were joined by acacia. This 2002 Comtes Lafon Meursault Genevrieres had been open for an hour. It was another testament to the 2002 vintage, the most forgotten of the great vintages. Everyone talks about 1999 and 2005; even 2001 and 2006 get more recognition it seems, although I am talking reds, really, but even the whites seem to be less discussed in the context of greatness. This ’02 was loaded with Chardonnay fruit and flesh, and its minerals and acidity were superb. The only flaw was this spike of alcohol, but it didn’t detract from the wine for me (95).

The second white we got a clue ”“ ‘same wine, different vintage. It was a 1992 Comtes Lafon Meursault Genevrieres, a nice pair with the ’02. The nose was sweet and buttery, full of tropical mango and kinky corn with a drop of heavy cream. The palate was rich, round and tangy with golden raisin and sunned fruit flavors. The acidity was still solid even though the wine was fatty and a bit over-ripe as ’92 whites are prone to be. This was still about as tasty a 1992 as I have had in a while, and while the sun is slowly setting on this vintage, there was still goodness in a gamy, semi-sweet way. Secondary flavors of banana peel (from the inside out) and tangerine joined the party. The ’92 kept growing on me, and it was a bottle that came directly from Lafon’s cellars on release, in fact (94).

It was onto some reds, and another pair. The first wine I pegged 1999 Burgundy right away ”“ the decadent fruit and rich, saucy and sexy style gave it away. It was deep and inky and edgy with its fruit. This wine had tremendous energy; the tannins and alcohol had that boom boom pow. The wine was incredibly rich and powerful on the palate as well, and the acidity was of superhero status. Our host found it akin to ‘eating berries off the tree’ as it was so concentrated. There were deep black fruits in this wow wine, and I was shocked to see it was the 1999 Claude Dugat Gevrey Chambertin Lavaux St. Jacques, as it was better than the Griottes that I had had just a month prior. On cue, our host made a glowing comment about the quality of his cellar, of course. It did get a little drier in the glass as more skin aka tannins started to show (95+).

The second wine was another that I had had within the past month, but this time the US bottle showed much better. This bottle of 1999 Rousseau Gevrey Chambertin Clos St. Jacques was very sulfury. There was barn, animal, cedar and hay behind it, and our host also found it ‘gassy.’ Touches of garden rounded out the nose, but the gas dominated, for sure. The flavors were more on the candied red fruit side with a hint of rust, along with popcorn. The bottle was not exactly right, as the glorious other bottle I recently had would attest. Somehow, too much sulfur made its way into a batch of this wine, and here was one of them (93A).

The next wine was unfortunately corked, and it was a 1971 Grands Echezeaux, in honor of my birth year. Rats (DQ).

The next wine was also from my birth year, a 1971 Gros Frere et Soeur Richebourg. Its creamy nose was full of barbecue aromas along with the horseradish and brown sugar that often accompany BBQ. It was rich and saucy, also displaying distinct green olive aromas. The palate was rich, saucy and hearty, although it had some skunked keg flavors on its finish, which was also likened to ‘old furniture.’ It was ‘not so clean with some chemical qualities, but also minerals and vitamins,’ our host commented. Kisses of tobasco, game and cherry rounded out the palate in this fleshy red, which was still excellent despite some unusual edges (93).

The next wine had a great nose, with this 7up sexiness to go with citrus and black cherry. It was rich and sexy, more hearty on the palate. The finish was big and gritty, displaying lots of minerals and flavors of olive and slate. It was very Burgundian in style, so I was surprised to see this be a 1971 Certan de May! It was a ‘wow’ wine for sure, and a pet wine of our host’s (95).

The next wine had a hint of oxidation, paint-like in its impression, although our host insisted we give it some time to allow that paint ‘to crack off.’ The palate was decadent, rich, oily and thick with hints of port and ‘layers.’ It was still rich and saucy and what I would consider an outstanding wine despite the nose, as it was cleaner on the palate, and air continued to benefit the wine, as flavors of chocolate and bread pudding developed. Our host smiled after the wine, and all of us, came around, admiring its ‘bakery’ aromas and how it was ‘packed with fruit and acidity.’ It was a 1945 Certan de May (96).

We ended our meal with a 1990 Jacques Selosse, one of the great producers in Champagne who still seems to be under the radar, perhaps due to his dizzying array of non-vintage bottlings. The nose was cream city, make that cream soda city, very Krug-like in its personality with rich vanilla aromas that were also almost beefy, or ‘coq au vin’ as someone commented. In the mouth, the Selosse was long and decadent yet fine and elegant. Our host noted, ‘rich with good acidity”¦fat’ (95).

We didn’t end our night, however. We went back to the cellar for a healthy midnight raid, beginning with a 1986 Domaine Leflaive Chevalier Montrachet. Healthy and forward aromas of corn, butter, stalk, cream and nut were all over the nose, developing into a hybrid of corn nuts and hazelnuts. There were rainwater flavors in this round and mature ’86, as well as lots of corn ones including candy. This was about as good as 1986 gets now, a vintage to drink up and enjoy (94).

The last wine on this extraordinary night was an also extraordinary 1961 Palmer. There were lots of cobwebs at first in this ancient wonder, but they blew off into black cherry dust, spice and ‘mushrooms.’ Flavors of chocolate shavings and earth were present in this round, tender, soft yet sturdy wine. It was dust city on its hearty finish, a classic claret all the way (96).

It was a definite happy birthday to me.

And then there was the night after, a quiet get-together of just me and my host after a hard day’s work in the cellar, with three more extraordinary wines selected, beginning with an incredible bottle of 1955 Roederer. Acquired from the cellar of a Belgian castle, this bottle, despite some wear and tear on the outside, had an amazing color and fill. Thankfully, there are 12 more in our January auction! The bottle was amazingly fresh, its bubbles popping in the glass upon first pour. Aromas of honey, tea, dried fig, straw, orange blossoms and ‘green apples’ were everywhere in its complex nose. The palate was delicious, long and with great effervescence, impossible to stop sipping. A hint of meat/game/animal developed in the nose, and our sommelier eagerly added, ‘pink grapefruit.’ My host wisely commented, ‘what you have in the nose, you get on the taste, and that is a sign of a great wine.’ I just couldn’t stop drinking it, and caramel started to take over its palate in time. It was clearly outstanding and flirting with that next level, best wines of my life category, but I left it on the border (96+).

The next bottle was one we took a chance on, a low-fill 1961 Rayas Chateauneuf du Pape. ‘It’s aliiiiiive,’ I smiled. It was another low fill Burgundy/Rhone that proved to be outstanding, another feather in Mr. Jaeger’s cap regarding his theory of lower fill bottles from these regions. ‘Cooked strawberry marmalade,’ my host admired, and he didn’t mean that the wine was cooked, it was just the aroma he found. It was a ‘wow’ wine, so sweet and sexy with amazing spice. Plum, boysenberry and cassis were all there, wrapped in a decadent musk. Additional flavors of bamboo shoot, new leather and a hint of truffles were there; it was another wine I could not stop drinking. ‘Burgundy-like, except for the alcohol,’ my host keenly observed. There was great tension; this was a wine that would make aspiring rappers want to ‘smack that.’ Candle wax emerged after extended time. It was another wine right on the border of the greatest of all-time, but it didn’t last as long in the glass, perhaps a combination of its age as well as its fill catching up to it a little (96).

The third wine of the night was a rare 1967 Bruno Giacosa Barbaresco Asili Riserva Speciale. Tar and leather were the first things I noticed in the nose, but also lavender and ‘white flowers’ balancing it out. It was a desert storm of a nose, with additional hints of black rose, fig, tobacco, spice and spine, along with huge alcohol and acidity, plus a little coconut skin. The palate was full-bodied with loads of tar and charcoal but this awkward edge on its finish at first. The fruit was sweet, but the finish ‘not that long.’ There was good spice, excellent flex and definition still. It was a perplexing wine, as one sip would be great, and the next awkward, but one of the best lamb dishes that I have ever had kept it on the greater side, and flavors of chocolate-covered cigar developed. It held well in the glass, gaining in time and ultimately proving to be close to outstanding (94+).

There was one more wine on this night, a 1997 Giacomo Conterno Barolo Monfortino Riserva, generously given as a gift by the restaurant. How come they don’t do that in New York :). It first came across rich, lush and hearty with a long, leathery personality that alternated between stroking me and slapping me between its fruit and finish. The palate was quite gamy and figgy, though. It ‘reminds me of a garage St. Emilion, slightly overripe,’ my host noted, adding, ‘but I like it.’ Its backhand was wicked, but its forehand was fruity and figgy and honestly tough to drink compared to the three classics also on the table. It did hold in the glass and hinted at more potential, but like many 1997s, they might not last as long as people think (93+).

Memorable meals in memorable places with memorable people are just enough to make me fall in love, especially in Europe, where the food and wine can be as good as it gets.

One of the best meals I have had this Fall was at Eleven Madison Park, or ‘EMP’ as the kool kids like to say. Chef Daniel Humm, known and respected by a couple of my most significant European collector friends, showed us why he is top of his game with a custom tasting menu fit for a king. It just so happened that we had a king at our table, King Angry, that is, but after the spectacular meal that followed, even King Angry had a smile on his face. Special thanks goes to Carl for organizing such a wonderful meal.

We started with a pair of Krug mags, beginning with a 1990 Krug. This was as great a bottle of this that I have ever had. Its nose was perfect, a great mix of vanilla and citrus with hints of nut. The palate had a great center, a linearity from start to finish that made my spine arch. Long, citrusy and zippy, this outstanding and bready bubbly was focused and in charge. I could have drunk it all night long and been quite happy (96M).

The just released 1985 Krug Collection was more pungent, very wheaty and grassy. Minnesota Slim found it ‘yeasty.’ Just disgorged last year, the 1985 was tighter than a nun’s knees, coming across too young and too recently disgorged, to be frank. The flavors were also grassy, and its finish long, fine and grainy. Chalky and limestony, the Collection had lots of potential, but was just too young and too ‘RD’ for me at the moment. It was tough to drink next to the 1990 (93+M).

There was only one blind flight for the night, and it was reserved for the whites. The flight was single blind, as we knew what the wines were, but not in what order they were served. Leflaive and Niellon Batards and Chevaliers were our subjects, and 1996 was the vintage.

The first white smelled like 1996 and popped like fresh kernels, which made me think Leflaive. The King called it ‘obvious.’ It was smoky and toasty with lots of forest, cream and yellow fruits. The nose was thick, long and sexy, but the palate was softer than I thought it would be. It was round with yellow and waterfall flavors, also with nice dust and spice on its finish. JP noted, ‘a little bit of bubblegum’ in this 1996 Domaine Leflaive Chevalier Montrachet. I should add that we did not know the name of the wine until all of them were tasted and discussed (94).

The second white was cleaner, more floral in style. There were aromas of fireplace and brick, a veritable white Christmas of a nose. The nose was regal, long and full of spice. If the first was Leflaive, this was definitely Niellon. The palate was rich and lush, sexy with its white fruits and tender with a delicate wintry edge. The floral qualities were divine and delicious in this 1996 Niellon Batard Montrachet (95+).

The third wine had the same style as the first with its kernel, toast, musk, waterfall and smoke. JP was loving ‘the clean, razor-cut acidity.’ There were lots of kernel and toast flavors on its round and lush palate, but again there was this tender side. There was still excellent pop and definitely more acidity and length than its sibling. Although a touch was missing up front in the mouth, its big acidity more than made up for it. Since the next wine was corked, and this was the 1996 Domaine Leflaive Batard Montrachet, this was a day of Batard over Chevalier, ‘rare’ in Ray’s book (95).

As indicated, the 1996 Niellon Chevalier Montrachet was unfortunately corked (DQ).

The next course was foie gras, and the obligatory Sauternes came out, a 1988 Climens. I didn’t taste it. I know that it is a great pairing, but I do not like having a sweet wine in the middle of my dry wines, as it can affect the next few wines and diminish one’s tasting abilities.

The 1995 Krug Clos du Mesnil that followed was an excellent palate cleanser. Champagne is the only wine that is great before, during and after a meal. It fits in everywhere you put it, and this Krug was no exception. Aromas of cream, butter, vanilla, musk and yeast graced its nose, all supported by wood, almost a bamboo. The palate was dry, lean and long. The finish was exceptional, but this was very lean and dry. Perhaps 1995s will blossom, but that is typical of the vintage, one that I feel is very good but not great (94).

It was time for some reds, some Rousseaus to be exact, beginning with the 1985 Rousseau Chambertin. When asked to share my notes, I began with ‘milky, foresty, yeasty.’ Young Chris remarked how he didn’t like the Rousseau, to which I replied something far too undistinguished to write again here. The Rousseau was also beefy and saucy, and Worcestershire and tree bark came out. It was a bit dirty in a mushroomy way. The palate was round and rich, soft yet lush, tender but long. Two sips resulted in two sneezes, which is always a sign of outstanding in my book :). The third sip showed me its tender side, but the acidity remained constant. JP also noted the ‘mushroom,’ and it got redder over time (95).

The 1991 Rousseau Chambertin was all about its oak at first, that and some burnt popcorn. Vitamins and sour cherry slowly but surely fought through, and the wine found itself eventually. The palate was rich, lush and long, balancing out to reveal great definition and length. Its flavors of cedar, tree bark, forest and leather all had me licking the roof of my mouth. Once the oak blew off, the wine was fantastic, but in the end, after the last sips were said and drunk, the 1985s were one step ahead (94+).

The 1991 Leroy Chambertin that followed was deeper and much darker with its noticeably blacker fruits. There was oil in dem der hills for sure. This was a midnight wine, and JP admired its ‘spice.’ The King chipped in with ‘velvety, silky and smoother.’ The palate was also rich and lush showing that 1991 goodness, and its finish was grapy and grainy (94).

The 1985 Rousseau Chambertin Clos de Beze backed up the 1985 is greater than 1991 theory. There was much more perfume to the Beze. Tender and lush was again the theme, and lavender took over its perfume while spice emerged. The palate was delicious with super fruit and great roundness. Pinches of vitamins rounded out this beauty (95).

We continued the ’85 vs. ’91 battle with a pair of Contis. The 1985 Grands Echezeaux had a spectacular nose that sung all the great qualities of 1985 in that unique way. Aromas of rust, menthol, red fruits (rusty ones again) and iron were present in its tense, zippy, pungent and deep nose. The palate was rich, long and saucy, still young with taut fruits and lingering acidity. It was a tightrope walker of a wine, balancing its fruit and finish components deftly in delicious fashion. Many hailed it as wine of the night (95+).

JP remarked how the 1991 Grands Echezeaux ‘needs time.’ It was blacker in its fruit, also possessing aromas of menthol, forest and bread soaked in something. The palate was thick, big and young, again with lots of black fruits and very good in a beef bouillon way. There were hints of garden here as well, but midnight struck and its fruit was nowhere to be found, as the wine shut down in the glass rather than open more (93).

A trio of 1985 Guigal La La’s were last, plus a bonus wine. Practice agreed with theory for this flight, at least in my book. I was not loving the 1985 Guigal Cote Rotie La Turque. There were aromas of lavender, bacon, menthol and gyro meat. Its palate had olive and dark fruit flavors but was also a touch oaky, and the wine was simpler than I wanted it to be (93).

The 1985 Guigal Cote Rotie La Landonne was beefier, bigger and thicker than the La Turque. There was more stone, wheat, chocolate and sprinkles on top. The palate was long and thick with excellent acidity. It was more classic Cote Rotie and smacked around the La Turque (95).

The 1985 Guigal Cote Rotie La Mouline was the best of the bunch ”“ what else is new? It was the sexiest of the three, with aromas of bacon, leather, grilled meat and gyro juice. Meaty and fragrant, it had that whiff of Viognier along with complex black fruit, leather and lavender flavors. It was great and WOTN for me, although JP stuck to his ’85 gun (97).

There was also a 1990 Guigal Cote Rotie La Mouline, but I was kind of spent. It was quite peppery and also outstanding, pretty and precious (95).

It was the night before auction and time to check out, not a creature who came would stir in their house.