For those of you who are curious, the catalog for Rob’s sale will be online on Friday and in the mail on Monday. The salesroom will be packed; make your reservations sooner rather than later if you plan on coming to this historic auction.

I interrupt my report on La Paulee and its final chapter (and its 53 tasting notes) to catch up on some of very special evenings that I have shared with Rob so far in 2008. Two of those nights happened in Las Vegas this past February.

We arrived at the Wynn’s at about 2AM, coming straight from the Mount Sinai charity event whose notes I seem to have lost grrrrrrrr, and we shared a celebratory toast with some 1989 Krug Clos du Mesnil. It was served about cellar temperature, cool but not cold, and it actually ended up being just right, as it allowed the flavors and nuances of this great Champagne really strut their stuff. Its nose was buttery, gamy and pungent at first, morphing into more of the classic vanilla cream of Krug, in oil form. Its butter qualities began to take on many shades; ie, it gave me the impression of different buttered things such as buttermilk biscuit, cheese Danish and even cinnamon roll! There was crazy complexity in this killer Krug. The palate was racy, fresh and lean with delicious corn oil flavors, a touch leaner than the nose indicated, but lively and oh so fresh. Rob called it ‘staggering.’ Its slaty finish was linear yet focused, and while the ’89 lacked a touch of fat in its middle at this stage, it had seductive oil flavors and was indubitably 5-star stuff (96).

That was our Thursday night, and Friday the setting would be Picasso’s, one of Vegas’ best restaurants, one where the chef, Julian Serrano, is actually in the kitchen on most nights. It was 2/8/08, and dinner was set for 8pm, so this officially became our lucky ‘888’ Happy Chinese New Year’s dinner. It was all the more appropriate with a close friend of mine and his mother joining us, as well as ‘Mr. Wine Vegas’ Gil Schwartz, Patman and a few others.

I actually met up with a close friend of mine early, who served me a glass of blind Champagne to begin before the others arrived. It had nice apply richness to its lush nose. a close friend of mine also admired its lush and rich qualities, and it had a mildly pungent, citric character. There was a great stony edge to this long and minerally bubbly that reminded me of an older Dom, actually. ‘You’ll never guess it,’ a close friend of mine insisted, but that’s not the point. It’s just to see if you like it,’ he smiled. There was a nice hint of lime to this NV Armand de Brignac Ace of Spades Champagne. Apparently, a close friend of mine’s got all that Southern California had to offer. What else is new? He told me it was made in a ‘solera style like Jacques Selosses.’ Big Boy was next to arrive and caught a glass and also admired it, citing its ‘great cracked egg nose.’ Jigga what? (94).

It was Big Boy’s turn at the wheel, beginning with the official aperitif for the evening, a 1928 Jacquesson. Now there’s something you don’t see every day. Gil was loving it immediately, citing ‘oloroso and olive.’ There was lots of white and brown sugar in the nose, along with aromas of apple orchard with an autumnal breeze running through it. Still fresh, the Jacquesson was delicious ”“ sweet, tasty, lush, mouthfilling and chewy. Gil picked up on ‘multi-vitamin’ flavors, and there were also kisses of band-aid (Ray Tuppatsch trademark here lol) and white brick. Yum (94).

An impressive quartet was next, pairs of 1928s and 1929s from Lanson and Dom Peringon. I know of only one man on earth who could put together that flight, and he did just that! The 1928 Lanson was a revelation, and Pat and Gil were immediately going bananas over this incredible Champagne. Big Boy found it ‘so Burgundian,’ and its amazing nose was practically perfect in its balance of nut, honey, perfume, lavender and white chocolate aromas. Still very vimful, it also had gorgeous flavors of orange blossom, honey and white minerals. This was stunning stuff! Exotic tangerine flavors developed, and it ‘flirts with 6 stars,’ as Big Boy put it. Krissy, Mrs. Wine Vegas, added ‘Krispy Kreme donuts,’ and it sure was. I was right on the border of 6 stars as well (96+).

The 1929 Lanson had a honeyed, sugared, nectar-like nose with amazing sweetness yet still some reserve to it. Minerals also sparkled in its fresh and apply nose, which still had great pitch. The palate was sweet and more wine-like with mature apricot flavors, excellent in its own right but no match for the 1928 (93).

The color was stunning in another ancient bottle, this time a 1928 Dom Perignon. Rob immediately was calling out ‘6 stars,’ and even a close friend of mine acknowledged that this was a perfect bottle. The nose was very exotic and very fresh, ‘stony’ to a close friend of mine. Gil admired its ‘Northern gooseberry’ qualities, finding it ‘almost Sauvignon Blanc-ish.’ a close friend of mine likened it more to a ‘white Rhone with its beeswax.’ Like I said, this was one exotic Champagne! The nose was also pungent, and the gooseberry carried over the palate. Its texture was soft yet lingering like a great, mature Montrachet, almost a ringer for a great, old Ramonet (95).

The 1929 Dom Perignon had unique aromas of clove and mint that morphed into more definitive spearmint, per Krissy. It was very intense in these regards, and Gil called it ‘really Gin-ny,’ and it was totally that. He was having flashbacks of Tanquerays and tonics, his favorite childhood drink lol. Rob added, ‘the essence of mint in a garden,’ and a close friend of mine added, ‘Chinese herbs,’ and I added, ‘1000 year-old fungi from China,’ half-joking, but half-serious. Gil was all about its herbs, now picking up on ‘chartreuse,’ and to be honest all those gin and chartreuse flavors are not a few of my favorite things, but it did sweeten up considerably in the glass, but its sweetness remained in those herbal families. However, I admired its quality and ageability even though stylistically it was not my cup of tea (93).

What an incredible flight; all these bottles were as good as they could be. Rob toasted 1928 as ‘the greatest vintage ever,’ and then Gil toasted Rob. ‘If it weren’t for guys like you, no one would ever know.’

It was time for some wine and a flight of old Clos des Lambrays courtesy of Big Boy again. The 1901 Clos des Lambrays was obviously ‘topped off,’ but it still retained solid Burgundian character. There was a decadent mix of old and new fruit, and a close friend of mine was muttering about Grenache and chapitalization, still admitting that it was ‘delicious but not all 1901.’ The palate showed much older than the nose, full of strawberry flavors. Pat called it ‘the sherbert of the evening,’ and it was. Gil admired its ‘smoke’ qualities (90?).

The next three Lambrays would show decidedly differently and stood together compared to the 1901. The 1919 Clos des Lambrays was ‘more gamy and meaty, how it should be,’ per a close friend of mine. Aromas of bouillon, garden, earth, tobacco and sweet brown sugar graced its nose. Its palate was rich and citrusy, stabilized by an earthy, light spice. It was gorgeous per me and ‘beautiful’ per a close friend of mine (94).

The 1929 Clos des Lambrays had ‘stupid VA (volatile acidity) ’ per Gil. Aromas of old rose, hibiscus tea and vitamin C were present in this sweet, soft, tender and old wine. Its palate was light and dusty, earthy with a touch of good bitters, and pure cherry fruit. It was a pretty and graceful wine, and a close friend of mine loved its ‘lushness.’ Someone likened it to something relating to a period, and it wasn’t about an era. Let’s just leave it at that. There was this overseeped tea quality on the finish as well (93).

The last Lambrays on our agenda was the 1937 Clos des Lambrays, which had Gil initially wondering out loud if this was the best of the four. It had a nutty, smoky, sweet nose, sweet on the browned side of things, with a great autumnal complexity. Soft and round with nice citrus, earth and tea bag flavors (stop right there Ray) , I liked its bright cherry fruit but ultimately found it less complex than the previous two (92).

We switched to an outstanding flight of 1934 Bordeaux from bottles nestled away carefully in the cellar of Mr. Wine Vegas himself. The bottles were in superb condition, and as in the previous two flights, all the wines delivered everything that one could possibly hope for.

A 1934 Lafite Rothschild had classic pencil in the nose and a great, waxy freshness, along with nice carob, earth and mineral aromas. Shortly thereafter, aromas of jasmine rolled in like a tidal wave and took over. Sweet and tasty, this was a delicious and perfect bottle of ’34. a close friend of mine noted ‘barnyard’ flavors. Citrus, dust and spice all joined the party. This was a tender and lovely wine with a pinch of pungency. Fundamentally linear, the Lafite got tangier in the glass and seemed less impressive after the next two wines, but it was still pretty nonetheless (92).

The 1934 Mouton Rothschild immediately seized control of this flight with its deeper, richer and lusher nose. It was very brooding by comparison with its incredible and trademarked chocolate aromas, accompanied by earth, minerals and nuts. The nose also had an intense trio of cedar, ceramics and mahogany. The palate was intense and hearty, meaty and long with great acidity. The finish was thick and grainy. Rob picked up on some also trademarked ‘mint.’ Earth and oak flavors rounded out this beauty, but it did fall back a step after the Haut Brion (94).

The 1934 Haut Brion was a classic, old Haut Brion. It had the huge coffee milkshake nose that I often get from HB’s in the ‘20s and ‘30s, and it was almost identical aromatically to some ‘28s that I have had; the ’34 could be considered a fraternal twin of sorts. Espresso, garden root vegetable, coffee grinds and a pinch of ginger were all present in this complex nose. Cassis was also there but buried underneath everything else. Flavors of soy and ‘black fruit candy’ (Gil) graced its beefy palate. It was like ‘A1 meets dessert.’ Everyone of significance was in the Haut Brion camp, and even I came around in the end despite my initial infatuation with the Mouton. The Haut Brion kept gaining in the glass while the others fell back, and it clearly had the best concentration of the flight. Gil agreed, calling it ‘more and more intense.’ It also had a balanced, earthy finish (95).

It was a close friend of mine’s turn to bat, and as usual, he was batting clean up, pulling out a 1937 Roumier Bonnes Mares. ‘Fantastic nose’ began my notes. Garden city, chambord, raspberry, earth and minerals all danced in my nostrils. Touches of menthol, coffee and scorched earth supported its all-star cast of aromas. The palate was perfectly balanced with incredible length, rich and hearty with a soup-like intensity. Gravelly, long and possessing that great citric tension of great old Burgs, this was serious stuff, an Esquin Import bottle. Krissy picked up on some tertiary ‘crème brulee’ qualities, while a close friend of mine called it ‘pure chocolate’ (96).

It is always nice to have Roumier’s Bonnes Mares side by side with his Musigny, especially when 1937! The 1937 Roumier Musigny was a Nicolas bottle and similar in style to the Bonnes Mares, although a touch sweeter with more of a cherry core. A pinch of cigar added complexity to this chocolaty, nutty, earthy and sexy wine. The Musigny was richer in the mouth than the Bonnes Mares, possessing more density. Its flavors were again chocolaty as well as gardeny. This was long, super duper rich, open and sexy stuff. It was also a bit oaty, in a good way, and its thick finish arguably gained in the glass. Its texture and concentration were stellar. a close friend of mine observed, ‘it’s amazing the energy that Roumier wines have’ (96+).

The parade of ‘37s continued with an unfortunately corked bottle of 1937 Vogue Musigny Vieilles Vignes. At about $10,000 a bottle, man that hurts, but gentlemen who drink and collect these types of bottles understand that these things happen and move on.

And boy did we move on. Big Boy was back in the driver’s seat with one of his most prized bottles: a magnum of 1937 Romanee Conti. MAGNUM. I mean, it’s only a $50,000 bottle. Yippee-kay-yay. You know the rest. The RC had a deep, saucy nose, still fresh yet maturely warm and inviting. It, too, danced in my nose with its mature cherry fruit, garden, game and oil aromas, along with pinches of menthol and more garden, all signature qualities. It was so aromatic that it made time stand still. a close friend of mine admired its ‘density’ immediately and called it ‘all about ’37.’ The palate was unreal-ly rich (I think I just made up another word) , hearty and with incredible acidity. The ’37 RC was the type of wine to get right in your face and then gently kiss you on your neck. Thick and lip-smacking, it made me lick the roof of my mouth as if, as if”¦I tried to get a mini ‘Match game’ going, but that ended quickly with some very inappropriate comments lol. Its finish was long and gritty. Despite its overwhelming nature, the ’37 RC was still fine and polished. Bottles like this are why God made wine (98M).

After being berated by Rob for my mere 98-point rating (he found it to be 99+) , we sampled our last ’37 on this magical evening, a 1937 Jaboulet Hermitage La Chapelle. The La Chapelle was still good, but very anti-climactic and a bit of an afterthought after the last flight. It was almost Bordeaux-like, possessing aromas and flavors of straw, chocolate, earth, oat and barn (92).

Last and not least, wines number 19 and 20 on this legendary evening, were a pair of 1921 Pomerols, beginning with a magnum of 1921 Lafleur. Yeah, yeah, I know what some of you are thinking already but read on first, will ya? The Lafleur was decadently thick and rich, chocolaty and intense, chunky like Afa and Sika yet agile like Samala. Any Wild Samoan fans out there? Anyway, it had the full fruit symphony ”“ black, red, purple and even blue. It was so rich and thick in the mouth, I coined it ‘redunkulous.’ Lush, round flavors and a thick finish added up to championship material. This was a Nicolas magnum, recorked in the ‘80s according to Rob, and it had a blank cork. Now I know that probably a majority of people in the wine world, both collectors and resellers (at least today ahem ahem) would probably immediately assume this magnum to be fake. I doubt I would sell it in today’s marketplace, too. However, it was consistent with all the other Nicolas bottles of ‘20s Pomerol that I have had (Nicolas are pretty much the only ones you can find anymore that are legitimate) , and it was incredibly good, showing amazing concentration and tell-tale Pomerol qualities. I think Gil said it a couple months ago best, something to the extent that ‘if something this good is fake, I don’t care.’ And if this magnum was fake, then every single 1920s Pomerol in existence is fake, too. Now I didn’t go into this long diatribe because Rob has a lot of old Pomerols in his upcoming auction at the end of April; in fact, he insisted on not offering any, citing market insecurity and the fact that ‘they’re just too damn good.’ And this magnum was a perfect case in point; it was, indeed, ‘too damn good.’ I went into this diatribe because I choose to believe that there are real bottles of these wines still in existence, and that on the scales of justice, paranoia sometimes has to be balanced with a healthy dose of reason. I don’t think too many people treated to a glass of this wine, from this magnum, could convince me or any of the incredibly experienced tasters at our table that something was fundamentally unsound about this wine (97M).

As a side note, the very night prior in New York City, Rob opened a magnum of 1947 Lafleur at the Mount Sinai charity event with approximately 100 people in attendance. The wine was so good that those fortunate enough to have a taste, and those were some of New York’s most experienced palates, went giddy. Rob spontaneously donated a second magnum on the spot to Sinai which was snapped up for $45,000 in some of the evening’s most ferocious bidding. He certainly made a lot of believers on that night, and it is only fitting since not too many guys can open up magnums of 1921 and 1947 Lafleur on consecutive evenings, in different cities no less

I was starting to fade away but managed a few notes about the 1921 Latour a Pomerol. There was more game and yeast here, and this bottle was typical of the older L a P’s that I have had. It had that tell-tale hint of marzipan that this wine acquires at such an age. It was another great wine (95).

What an incredible night. And there was still one more to go”¦

Ok, where was I again? Sorry for the delay, but making four auctions simultaneously over these past couple of weeks has been a bit challenging. Let’s see, there are two single cellar sales, one in April and one in May, then there is the ‘regular’ May auction, and finally our first auction in Hong Kong, all totaling about $15 million in sales. I can honestly say that I can’t wait for you to see them all. Extraordinary stuff!

That’s right, I was still in San Francisco, halfway through my epic four-day journey through the great wines of Burgundy. There was actually a prelude to La Paulee 2008, Part III, an auction on Friday afternoon, and somehow I found myself there doing a little market research. Michael Mina’s was the familiar setting, and I was thirsty.

Kutch was on the scene and starting early with a 1979 Gosset Vintage Champagne. Its nose was yeasty, toasty and nutty with hints of game, nutmeg and dry caramel. There was great sweetness present, balanced well by a lemony streak. It was starting to become wine-like in character, with tangy apple butter flavors and still light spritz, as well as good acidity. Good show (93).

I countered with a 1979 Billecart Salmon Cuvee Nicolas Francois, again off the incredible Champagne list at Mina’s. The Billecart was more pungent, with prominent grass and hay edges, and a baked granulated sugar core behind them. Long toast, rich seltzer and hay flavors all came out on its desert-like finish. Its youthful character and searing acidity were impressive, although I felt it was short a few nuances of outstanding status, at least at this stage (94+).

A 1998 Roumier Bonnes Mares was a pleasant segue to the reds with its sappy nose of sweet raspberry fruit. Its nose was also oily to a degree and had that whiff of Roumier interior, ie, expensive wood. The palate was rich yet soft, still sappy, solid overall with its deep, caressing fruit. It was a very enjoyable wine, and it made me think that the ‘98s are starting to blossom at age ten (93).

There was actually another Champagne, a 1961 Gosset, courtesy of Big Boy this time. Things were a bit chaotic and random; there really wasn’t any method to our madness on this busy afternoon. One could see the same style of Gosset expressed in the ’79. Rich, bready, smooth and toasty with buttery vanilla sugar and spice flavors, the ’61 was long and delicious (95).

A 2005 Niellon Chevalier Montrachet was very forward and buttery, yet still reticent, and my first significant 2005 white Burg. Still minerally and dusty, it had nice citrus flavors and retained its buttery qualities on the palate, yet it remained clean and light on its feet, perhaps a function of its youth. One could still see that this was serious wine despite its pre-adolescence, as it had a big, brooding nature and white fruit flavors (94).

The last wine on this afternoon was a magnum of 1993 Vogue Musigny Vieilles Vignes. A deep, concentrated nose unveiled great spice and a rich sexgasm of citrus and red fruits. It was atypically sweet for a ’93, so decadent yet still so firm. Andy, who treated us to this magnum, admired its ‘velvet’ qualities. While the wine was not tight, per se, it still gave me a coiled impression. Its rust and spice flavors were great, and the wine was delicious, long, balanced and firm (96M).

And that was my Friday afternoon on day three of La Paulee. Friday night would prove to be legendary.

Wilf and Eddie brought together coasts East and West for their own minor La Paulee on Friday night at Acquarello, but the wines were nothing short of major. There would be thirty-five wines sampled before this night was through.

It started with a magnum of 1981 Krug Collection that was yeasty, bready yet sweet. There were great aromas of vanilla cream, that Krug signature that I adore. There were also pinches of horse and wool, but not in an offensive way. The palate was big, rich and long, and Chris observed how it was ‘drinking great right now,’ and it was singing. Caramel flavors on its finish rounded out this beauty. It was just a warm-up from the greatest collection of Champagne in the world that I know of”¦Big Boy Style, aka Robert A. Rosania (95M).

A stellar bottle of 1990 Coche-Dury Meursault Perrieres was the first white on the agenda thanks to Neil. Eric was all over it immediately, citing its greatness. It was a superb bottle, full of aromas of minerals, dust, spice, lime green and that Coche signature nut and kernel. Its texture was nice and buttery, and its finish earthy. Light toast flavors were balanced by excellent acidity. While it was probably peaking, the view was still spectacular (96).

A rare magnum of 1999 Carillon Bienvenues Batard Montrachet came our way via Robert Bohr, whose omnipresence at great wine events is always a most welcome sight for sore taste buds. Wound and steely, there was an initial touch of Windex as the wine opened, or needed to open, I should say. It unfolded into a great combination of smoke and minerality, getting more and more focused with air, as well as more smoky. It was full of crystal white fruit flavors that danced delicately across the palate, and its finish had great white brick flavors. After recently having an also delicious 2001 of this white, this beautiful 1999 has made this a new pet white of mine (94M).

A 2000 Lafon Montrachet was yeasty and a bit stewed in the nose, possessing aromas of creamed corn, coffee grinds and almost a szechuan beefy edge. It still came across oily and a bit syrupy, atypical for 2000, and had pinches of animal as well. Overall, the nose was very exotic. The palate was rich and concentrated with nice texture, oily again, also with good body and garden flavors. Although also kinky and wild on the palate, it was still shorter than I wanted it to be (93).

In Vino Veritas,
JK

Thursday night saw the official beginning to La Paulee weekend, and we celebrated the great whites of Dominique Lafon and more reds from Eric Rousseau. Michael Mina was again the place, closed down for this historic event.

We began with a trio of Genevrieres, and the 2001 Lafon Meursault Genevrieres was clean and fresh with great citrus, dust and spice in its nose, along with excellent minerality and citricity. It had that beefy 2001 edge but was still cut. The palate was round and softer than I expected, still pleasant but easy. There was good hidden acidity here (91).

The 2000 Lafon Meursault Genevrieres had a touch of mildew or mold in the nose, that back alley edge to which I often refer. There was some corn, yeast and citrus behind that, and the palate was clean, but again simple. Mark concurred. There was a touch of tea-like quality and mild acidity in this disappointing 2000 (89).

The 1999 Lafon Meursault Genevrieres had ‘high acid’ per Eddie. It was the biggest nose of the three, showing citrus and fir spice, almost cedar, and snow-capped white fruits. The palate was beefy and more concentrated, longer, big and brawny yet still round (93).

A fascinating duo of Montrachet was next, beginning with a 1997 Lafon Montrachet. The ’97 had a touch of toast to its nose, followed by butter, kindling, corn and sweet musk. Clean and elegant, there was still substance in that sensuous 1997 way. The palate was polished, clean and buttery with excellent spice on its finish. The wine was absolutely delicious, and the nose stayed spicy and vibrant. Wilf hailed it as ‘great,’ and it was (95).

The 1996 Lafon Montrachet was unfortunately a touch oxidized, showing a yeasty, tropical, funky and creamy personality, still enjoyable but a bit on the tutti-frutti side. The palate was confused, stewed in its fruit and flavors, gamy and softer than it should have been. It still had body, and its acidity came out more and more in the glass, and a touch of candle wax flavors rounded out this affected wine (92A).

When discussing the hot topic of premature oxidation of white Burgundies, Wilf shared with me an ominous yet candid prediction, one that I hope does not come true. He said that reds might come under the gun as well, because ‘the genotype is the same, but the phenotype has not been expressed yet. In ten or fifteen years, we might be talking about the premature oxidation in some reds. The silicon treatment of the cork, combined with less SO2 (will lead to) premature oxidation, (whether white or red). ’

On that note, we moved on to the reds and a flight of Clos St. Jacques, beginning with the 1988 Rousseau Gevrey Chambertin Clos St. Jacques. The nose was nutty and deep, oily and rich, beefy and hearty, and with a touch of maple syrup goodness. It had tasty, good fruit, but still ‘hard tannins,’ per Eric. Its red cherry flavors were delicious, and it was rock solid despite ‘a touch of vegetal,’ per Todd. Eddie wasn’t minding it, which is about as good a compliment that you will get out of him for a Premier Cru lol. Mark was looking for more complexity, but I liked the wine a lot and its lumber flavors and personality (93).

The 1983 Rousseau Gevrey Chambertin Clos St. Jacques had a minty, intense nose that was very rusty and still vibrant. In the mouth, there were tasty strawberry and earth flavors to go with lots of acidity and its overall minty personality. Most preferred the ’83 to the ’88, but I found them both excellent and qualitatively equal despite their stylistic differences (93).

The 1978 Rousseau Gevrey Chambertin Clos St. Jacques stood out from the pack with its super intense nose. Dark and nutty with brown leather and vitamin aromas, the ’78 was taut, wound and spiny. Its palate was beefy with that Worcestershire tang. Sturdy, big and muscular, it was fearless in the glass, although Wilf thought there was a slight ‘potassium issue.’ Rose hip flavors and a hint of vitamin C graced its long palate, which Eric found ‘pure and sharp,’ and that was quite accurate. It was a great flight (95).

A trio of Chambertins followed, beginning with the 1983 Rousseau Chambertin, the second night in a row I was blessed with this wine. I love it when that happens. We later found out that this was Eric’s first vintage of Rousseau, officially, that is. This 1983 was big and minty again like the Clos St. Jacques, possessing more cherry oil in its nose in a sweet and spicy way. There was big acidity here, and this bottle was rusty, earthy, wintry and gritty. It was really sturdy. Wilf found it ‘tart’ and Eddie ‘petroly,’ but they both preferred the Clos St. Jacques. It was definitely on the other side of the coin of the 1980 that would follow, showing earth and rust versus the fruit that was coming (93).

The 1980 Rousseau Chambertin was served out of jeroboam. I love it when that happens, too! The nose was big and woody at first, full of spearmint, coiled and thick. With some air, it became sweeter and full of cherry fruit, a trend that would continue. The palate was screechy at first, tight out of jero, but opened up to reveal tender fruit. Despite its fruitier nature, it was still fresh, complex and seductive (93J).

The 1976 Rousseau Chambertin was a bit of an afterthought, earthy, nutty and beefy but a bit two-dimensional and lacking enough fruit to carry through its structural components (89).

Something then came off the menu for our table, generously opened courtesy of Big Boy. It was a jeroboam of 1949 Rousseau Chambertin. The bottle looked like it came out of a tomb, crusty and hand-blown, a true antique. Unfortunately, the wine had leaked and had a lower fill, so what better thing to do than drink it? The wine was clearly a touch oxidized but still delicious, lush and sturdy. Rich chocolate and kinky purple fruit aromas were present. Mark noted ‘sweet, sappy fruit; quite concentrated,’ and added, ‘great grip and length.’ It was rich and lingered long time :). Rob felt, ‘if it wasn’t oxidized, it would be 98 or 99 points,’ and he had a good point. It was thick and long, but still affected (94A-J).

The 1966 Rousseau Chambertin had a fabulous nose of sweet cherry oil essence, bread crumbs and herbs both soaked in butter. Very kinky, its palate was rich, saucy and long, possessing cherry oil and dust flavors, good spine and a smooth and buttery finish (94).

The 1964 Rousseau Chambertin was a tale of two bottles. The first was oxidized besides a rich and creamy edge. a close friend of mine chimed in, ‘that’s the problem with ’64; too many are oxidized.’ The second bottle had a rusty intensity and deep forest oil of cedar and mahogany; it was linearly solid. Eric noted a ‘huge difference’ between the two bottles (94).

A 1982 Lafon Montrachet was the second-to-last official wine served on this incredible evening, and it was the perfect spot for this spectacular white. It reminded me how a bottle (or flight) of Champagne or even white wine can be a welcome intermezzo/cleanser in order to march onwards with the reds. This was a perfect example of that, and Eddie was all over it immediately, citing ‘now this is ’82 white Burgundy.’ It had a big, buttery nose full of almond paste and great bread oil. It was sexy and delicious, super rich and buttery as well as nutty. It was Eddie’s ‘wine of the night,’ and up to that point it was, but it would prove to be a short-lived statement (96).

A 1990 Rousseau Chambertin lived up to that sentiment with its deep, regal nose, a veritable symphony of red fruit oils. It was serious stuff, but still just a baby. Vitamins and catnip were a welcome combination of sex appeal, and Mark found it ‘just starting to spring.’ This wine will probably outlive me, I thought. Welcome to Chambertin (96).

The dinner was over, but the party was just beginning. Apologies in advance for any short notes. You know how that goes. Big boy was feeling good, and he wanted to let everyone know that the East was in the house. Eight more wines would follow, four from his cellar.

A magnum of 1966 Grands Echezeaux welcomed us in stellar fashion. It had a deep nose full of rose, rust and caramel. Thick and rich, there were also bouillon and garden flavors. Yum (95M).

A 1978 Drouhin Chambertin had a baked nose of peanut brittle, but was creamy, smooth, satiny, luscious and delicious with solid iron flavors (94).

A perfect bottle of 1966 Joseph Drouhin Montrachet Marquis de Laguiche was so rich and buttery, smoked and buttered like a bagel with the whitefish yet somehow without the fish. It was so rich and concentrated and had garden, earth, pine and buttery flavors. Wow (96+).

Wow took on a more significant meaning with this next magnum of 1971 La Tache. Its thick, long and intense nose of rose, oil and menthol unfolded into an exotic garden of hedonistic Burgundy. Its palate was unreal, spiny and intense like hot sex with a rusty and minerally vigor rarely matched. It was absolutely, lip-smackingly delicious, as ever, still one of the greatest wines ever made (98+M).

Feeling empty handed, I scored a magnum of 1982 Cristal off the list at Mina’s. It was super toasty, nutty, firm, thick, rich, long and spiny. The palate was super-duper long and intense. This magnum was about as good as this can get (96M).

Jeff came through with a fantastic magnum of 1990 Ramonet Batard Montrachet. It was another killer magnum, one of the best Ramonets I have ever had, a 95 mph curve. The magnum apparently came straight from Ramonet, and Jeff found it ‘screamin.’ Even Fritz got into the act with ‘lime blossom cream’ or something to that extent, but I can’t really read my writing. Daniel Boulud admired its ‘pitch’ (97M).

The last red wine of my evening would be a 1962 Rousseau Chambertin Clos de Beze, which was absolutely humungous. One sip put me all on ten of my toes instantly, its super spicy and spiny palate delivering a climactic finish on this night. Muscular, cut, agile yet graceful, this ’62 Rousseau was another magical magnum. All three magnums of red for the after party were courtesy of Big Boy, whose cellar once again delivered the knockout blow to an incredible evening of fine and rare wine (98).

Make that three magnums and one half-bottle. A half of 1947 Bollinger was delicious, albeit wine-like with its texture and personality, yeasty and old but still with that vanilla sex pop. That’s all I got 🙂 (94H).

I ran for my life somewhere shortly after that. It was either know when to say when or never say never. I chose the former. There was work to do tomorrow, and Eddie and Wilf were having their own Paulee Friday night.

I have been slow to stay current with the wealth of incredible wines that I have tasted during the first two months of 2008”¦my sincerest apologies. The notes are there, but time is not always my friend. Of all the great wines that I have tasted, and of all the great wine events that I have attended and conducted, there are very few that have equaled what I just experienced at La Paulee in San Francisco this past week. Over the course of four nights, I took notes for 138 wines, all incredibly rare vintage Burgundies (except for some Champagnes), and there were quite a few I missed since I seemed to turn into a pumpkin every night around 2AM. What’s a working guy to do?

This is the fourth consecutive year that I have attended and written up La Paulee, and for those of you that do not know what the event is, it is a celebration of Burgundy orchestrated by Burgundy lover extraordinaire Daniel Johnnes, who by day is the wine director for all of Daniel Boulud’s culinary empire, in addition to a quality importer of select wines.

La Paulee culminates every year with a BYO extravaganza where over 400 people come with their good stuff, and plenty of it. There is also always a VIP winemaker dinner Thursday night, this year’s featuring Eric Rousseau and Dominique Lafon, and also a Saturday walkabout afternoon tasting where some of Burgundy’s greatest producers pour some of their newest releases. This year’s vintage happened to be 2005”¦talk about a bonus! This year also saw an incredible Friday night BYO party hosted by Wilf and Eddie, but the week quietly kicked off Wednesday night with a small get-together at Michael Mina’s, my home away from home in San Francisco. Eric Rousseau was the guest of honor, and Wilf, Don and a close friend of mine were some of the guests, so I just had that feeling that there would be some serious ‘honoring’ done before the night was over.

We started with a mag of 1990 Dom Perignon Rose, a bubbly that has shown exquisitely but also perplexingly. This magnum was more on the perplexing side with its hay and barn aromas, still very fresh and sound, but slow to uncoil its rose and strawberry sides. It was definitively earthy and gamy, also big, long and tangy in the mouth with a dusty finish. In the end, it stayed on the horsy side of the fence, and I have had better magnums within the past couple months. Bottle variation rears its head (93+M).

Wilf uncorked a pair of 2002 whites, beginning with a 2002 Sauzet Montrachet. It has a gorgeous nose, although Daniel found it ‘a little oaky’ at first. There was a lot of tropical fruit and banana aromas, but still that nice white Burgundy cut of minerals, along with a pinch of signature Sauzet anise. At first, the wine was very shut down on the palate, but in time, it blossomed into a great wine. Sometimes these things need time! Traces of butter, citrus and minerality uncoiled into a graceful and elegant experience, full of ‘good acidity’ as Thierry observed. The ’02 kept getting better and better and better (95).

The 2002 Chateau de Puligny Montrachet Chevalier Montrachet rubbed Thierry the wrong way initially, as he found it ‘a little oaky and sweet.’ Wilf interjected that he ‘liked the style of the Sauzet, but there is more stuffing here,’ and there was. Wilf went on to say how Sauzet buys all his grapes from Baron Thenard, while Etienne de Montille controls the grapes for CPM, and how that can make a huge difference some years. There was more noticeable oak in the CPM, but I didn’t find it over the top, and there was still pinch and edge to its nose. Aromas of slate, game and exotic wood were all present. The wine was thick and big in the mouth, with more spice and pop to the finish, seemingly longer than the Sauzet at first, but not at last. Wilf found it ‘close to 5 stars,’ and Madame Rousseau preferred the nose of the Sauzet but the palate of the CPM. As the Sauzet started to unfold, Wilf made a point that ‘temperature has a huge impact on style’ (93+).

The 1999 Domaine Leflaive Batard Montrachet popped out of the glass with its super smoky and kernel-filled nose. ‘A touch reduced,’ Thierry observed, and it had noticeable sulfur in its nose, which was ‘a little stinky, but I still like it,’ Thierry reassured me. Corn, citrus, more kernel and lots of minerality kept coming out of the glass. The palate was big, rich and thick with excellent, brooding acidity but a touch brawny and square in its personality. The finish was toasty and minerally, and the acidity lingered beautifully. Thierry was loving the wine despite that touch of sulfur awkwardness, and I also found it excellent overall (94).

A 1997 Coche-Dury Meursault Perrieres had a sparkling nose with a sweet kink of white flowers, flowers just starting to wilt. Its floral components became more wild with time, and a hint of back alley crept in, but the wine was still very clean and had a waterfall-like freshness. The palate was clean, fresh and pure, just gorgeous and in a great spot, clearly the best drinking of any wine so far. The palate had nice spice and was clean, classic and minerally. It was another good show for a 1997 white Burgundy, a great vintage to be drinking now (93).

The 1992 Coche-Dury Meursault Perrieres Don served out of magnum, and Wilf dismissed it right away, calling out its ‘botrytis,’ and adding ‘not for me.’ Joe agreed, finding it ‘cracked.’ Its nose was funky and gamy, stinky and mature with pinches of white pepper and anise to go with its baked white bread aromas. Flavors of candy corn and butter flashed in the pan, and its finish was bitter, as if a shot of vodka was in there, another sign that the wine was starting to crack up and unintegrate (90M).
The 1985 Domaine Leflaive Chevalier Montrachet that I brought was served a little cold, and the nose was mild at first accordingly. There was no doubt about its purity, though, and complex aromas started to emerge. There was a touch of Ramonet-like mint, granulated sugar, white and yellow fruits, smoke and a hint of ceramic complexity eventually in its nose. The palate was rich and creamy with nice yeast and corn flavors and spectacular acidity. It felt like it had another twenty years left in it, and its acidity was clearly the best of the night so far. A hint of bitters on its finish didn’t hold it back, although a close friend of mine found the finish ‘a touch clumsy,’ but he doesn’t know white wines anyway lol (96).

Geez, more whites? It was ok, since it was Montrachet-time, and even better since it was Ramonet Montrachet-time! The 1983 Ramonet Montrachet had a coy nose, mild and clean with a hint of mint, granulated sugar, petrol and garden complexities aromatically. The palate was clean, fresh, long and stylish, stunning with its grace and beauty and in a perfect spot right now. Its sunset of acidity still lit up the sky, and there was great balance, purity and length to this masterful wine. Despite a touch of cat box, the wine was still clean and fresh, more ‘mint’ was observed, and Thierry and a close friend of mine were loving the wine so much that a make-out session practically ensued. We were in San Francisco, after all ha ha, but Kansas City was in the house thanks to this generous bottle brought by Mark (96).

The 1979 Ramonet Montrachet magnum, yes magnum, was a fitting end to the procession of wonderful whites on this evening, and we had Sandy and his incredible Ramonet collection to thank for this. Buttered bread and sweet buttered corn oozed out of its gamy nose. The nose morphed into caramel and shredded wheat morning cereal with sliced bananas. The palate was much yeastier than the ’83, possibly a touch advanced, a close friend of mine wondered. I still found it outstandingly good, rich, buttery and tasty, full of character and an open personality that said right here, right now (96M).

It was time for some red, and there was plenty of Rousseau going around, beginning with a 1982 Rousseau Gevrey Chambertin Clos St. Jacques, again courtesy of the humble Acker cellar. Actually, this bottle was already sold but grabbed by me before the out report oops. Sorry Roger J. Incredible aromas of big-time truffles leapt from its nose. Additional aromas of dried cherries, tobacco and oatmeal also joined the party in this approachable and delicious nose. The palate was round and rich with excellent dust and still sturdy acidity. Long, stylish and surprisingly good, this ’82 was a real eye-opener and a testament to the greatness of both Rousseau and Clos St. Jacques. I should note that the wine did start to fade after thirty minutes or so, but for that half-hour, it was definitely excellent stuff (93).

Next up was the 1983 Rousseau Chambertin, the last bottle on offer from the Acker cellar this evening, but not the last bottle on my bill as you will see. It had lots of spearmint in the nose and a touch of Nyquil, that noticeable rot that many ‘83s are prone to show. A bit of oak crept in, flirting with gingerbread. The oak stayed on the palate in a kiss kiss way, along with nice citricity and good thickness on the finish, and that hint of medicine carried over to the palate. I should note that we had a much better bottle of this the following night, although this bottle was still very good, just different. Remember, this is fine wine, and there will be variation. You can’t make it on an assembly line (91).

It started to get serious with a 1962 Rousseau Chambertin. The Doctor was in the house. Tobasco jumped out of its thick, rich and sweet nose. Sandy called it ‘youthful but old’ and was wondering about any chapitalization, as it did have a sweet, almost tropicalnature. Musky and gamy, Wilf called it ‘brilliant,’ and its palate was thick, rusty and spicy with long, excellent vigor. The wine was sturdy and got a little dirty in the glass, but it never lost the centerpoint and focus of ’62, and despite its hearty nature, the wine was still elegant, although I did wonder whether or not the bottle was a hair affected due to its wild, sweeter nature (95).

Unfortunately, the 1953 Rousseau Chambertin was affected and (DQ). Shit happens. No one cared, especially once the next two wines were on the table.

The 1945 Rousseau Chambertin was extraordinary, one of those special wines that you never forget, and a wine that made me forget anything and everything else around me. It had the superb t ‘n a of 1945, reminding me of Tony Atlas and Rocky Johnson in their prime for some strange reason. It was even more than that, ‘absolute Cloverfield insanity,’ I wrote. It was a powerful wine, is what I am trying to say! Aromas of brussel sprouts graced its stony, spiny and limy core, and a whiff of spectacular cedar/interior wood balanced out its intense nose. The palate was extremely focused, a whiplash of spicy and tangy flavors, clean and mean with a no prisoners attitude yet still with the ability to kiss the palate with tobasco. ‘Finally a 6 star wine,’ a close friend of mine exhaled. ‘Its sweetness and density are insane’ (98).

The 1952 Rousseau Chambertin was no slouch either, revealing a long and deep nose and a rusty intensity a la the ’45. There was super spine and spice here, a brick city of a nose with faint, sweet red fruits and roses and a galaxy of green lime. Thierry and a close friend of mine were at it again, cooing over the ’52 like the two schoolgirls that they are J. Dusty, rusty and spiny, this was another magnificent Chambertin from Rousseau, and another killer ’52 Burg. Much thanks to the Doctor for an opportunity to taste these four legends together, andone could see Rousseau overwhelmed with joy and emotion (96).

Well, Don had something to say, and he said it with a 1934 Rousseau Chambertin Cuvee A, courtesy of the Doris Duke cellar. Rousseau joked that Cuvee A was the best, so I said, ‘no Cuvee F?’ The nose gave a great first impression with its sensual rose, earth and limestone. ‘Tres serieux,’ I smiled at Rousseau. He did not disagree! The ’34 had an incredible centerpoint and an intense, rusty, lemony personality with a touch of confectioners’ sweetness. Rich and long, it gained that tobasco craziness both in the nose and in the mouth that the other Chambertins displayed as well (97).

We were out of wines, so a close friend of mine and I attacked the list. a close friend of mine popped open a rare 1962 Roumier Chambolle Musigny, which had a decadent nose of dirty earth, dark chocolate and sweet rose oil syrup. Rich and still hearty, and despite its two-dimensional nature relative to the great Chambertins we just had, it was still excellent stuff and a revelation for a village wine. The hallmark Roumier acidity still shone brightly (93).

I needed some Champagne to revive, so I ordered a 1961 Krug magnum. The nose had that perfect vanilla cream sex appeal of great, old Krug. Thierry noted, ‘apple cider.’ The palate was creamy, rich and spicy with a vin de paille edge, still sturdy and full of character. Gingerbread emerged in this long and ample bubbly, which had a great center of attention and even commanded Joe to give a standing ‘O’ (96M).

a close friend of mine countered with a 1952 Veuve Clicquot magnum, which showed spectacularly as well. It was even fresher, bigger and bolder than the Krug, similar in style and seemingly younger even though it was older! It was lip-smackingly good and intense with more of a rusty personality, and about as perfect a 56 year-old bubbly could be (97M).

Check please”¦after all, La Paulee was about to start tomorrow. Damn, that Krug set me back, but it was fairly priced, and kudos to the great Raj Parr and the incredible wine list at Michael Mina for having Champagne like that available for our drinking pleasure.