From Taipei it was back to Hong Kong, where my first twenty-four hours were not so glamorous. I was basically stuck in my hotel room for that first day and night there, working around the clock on our first September auction catalog. It was a bit more work than anticipated, and my schedule became blurry shifts of naps, meetings, lunches and dinners for my entire time there. I was getting a bit edgy, I must confess, as a good night sleep soon became a distant memory.

What was glamorous was the spectacular view overlooking the Hong Kong harbor from my room at the Grand Hyatt, keeping me in touch with the energy constantly emerging from the amazing city of Hong Kong. Hong Kong is like the New York City of Asia, with a splash of Hawaii, and a giant harbor as well. In a brief history lesson that I later got from a taxi driver I hired for the day, there are currently over seven million people in HK, half of whom live in affordable government housing, where a fifty square meter apartment will cost the equivalent of $150 US a month. While gas may be a small fortune, and wine still taxed heavily, the government does make sure that its working class people have affordable necessities. There are three main territories in HK; Kowloon, Central and the New Territory, but which is what and where I’ll have to get back to you on. Hong Kong is driven by the financial sector, along with tourism, manufacturing, and more financial activity. I believe the government posted over a $50B surplus last year. Not bad for one year and seven million people, I’d say!

The Chinese language is a maze of hundreds of dialects, although the one unifying factor is that the language of reading and writing is all the same. Mandarin is quickly becoming the dominant dialect and the chosen one of Beijing and Shanghai, while Cantonese is a fading second, although more prevalent in HK from what I understood. ‘What’s the third most common dialect,’ I asked my driver. ‘Fuking,’ he replied. After confirming the spelling, I asked on cue, ‘Is there a lot of Fuking in China?’

Ok, sorry for that one to all my Chinese friends, I couldn’t help myself. One must laugh and love to live, no? Anyway, I finally escaped to dinner with a former New York client that retired back to Hong Kong. We went to Yung Kee, a great authentic and traditional Chinese restaurant where you must try the goose! He graciously brought a 1990 Haut Brion. This bottle was decanted for over two hours, as his taste prefers a rounder, softer and gentler style of Bordeaux, and I am sure the same goes for many of his Hong Kong brethren. The wine had a gorgeous and open nose full of cassis fruit, supported by cedar, minerals and tobacco. There were lots of layers and nuances to this complex wine. Tobacco came to the forefront of its aromas, and a baked morning cereal quality emerged. Despite the two hours of decanting, the finish was still spicy and had rock solid t ‘n a. There were lots of tobacco and earth flavors, and its style was long and regal. Stylish, long and with a smoky finish, the ’90 HB was a pleasure to drink in HK. There were also nice mineral flavors to its now satiny finish (95).

It was back to work after dinner, and the next fourteen hours consisted of that and short naps, as well as a morning massage to resuscitate. Massage is one of the keys to survival when traveling and overworking; without them I think I’d be dead already. Revived and regenerated, I headed over to Petrus, one of Hong Kong’s more renowned restaurants, nestled high in the sky in the Shangri La hotel. Most of the top restaurants in Asia are in the biggest hotels, although that culture is starting to change. In Hong Kong, it is a good thing, as the views from the top in this incredible city are breathtaking.

It was only lunch, so my guest and I settled on a 1997 Lafon Meursault Charmes. 1997 has become one of my favorite white Burgundy vintages to drink at the moment, and this Lafon once again proved why. It had a fabulous nose that was ‘right there.’ There was incredible musk, sweet butter, caramel and great spice aromas, as well as citrus twists and pine and mahogany traces. Still fresh and just starting to enter that plateau of maturity, the ’97 had great citrus flavors and kisses of earth and minerals. Its buttery flavors were still sweet, and this was excellent stuff, the perfect lunch time solution (93).

After more meetings, naps and catalog, I found myself at Yung Kee again for a casual get together. I told you this place is good! We sampled a 2001 Chateau Kefraya ‘Comte de M,’ Lebanon’s other wine, its first ambassador being the always interesting and tasty Chateau Musar. The Kefraya is a Cab/Syrah blend and had a big, deep nose full of dark black fruits and a leathery, rocky kink. Firm tannins and alcohol were framed by a kiss of modernity. Its flavors had sweet fruit, still on the black side but with cherry twists. Medium-bodied, the wine had good tannin and nice grit. There was some beef to its flavor profile, szechuan perhaps, or that might have been the table next to me! Some bacon from its Syrah emerged, and a touch of olive rounded out this smooth and pleasant wine (90).

The next morning, also my last day in Hong Kong, I finally finished that damn catalog, so I could now have a relaxed lunch with a significant private collector, one who generously brought a 1975 Petrus! Unfortunately, the bottle was slightly maderized, but not enough not to enjoy it throughout a most memorable lunch. 1975 Petrus can be one of the riskier Petruses in the vintage market due to the fact that there was a bottling issue at the Chateau that year, as many seasoned collectors will attest to. Nonetheless, I had no problem drinking it! ‘Mushroomy’ at first, my host noted, and there was old, gamy fruit, musk and a citric twinge. He quickly assessed that he had had better bottles, but the quality of the tannins and acidity were still very self-evident, and the wine had a smooth and satiny body with a nice nip to its finish. Its flavors were a bit old, though, and clearly advanced for its age. It still had a dusty finish, dry caramel flavors and nice grit despite polished tannins. The structure was there, but this gamy bottle, as previously noted, was not all that it could be (93A).

My last night in HK saw me at the home of one of its longstanding collectors, one who had amassed a joyous gathering of friends to celebrate my first trip to his home sweet home. I traveled up the famous ‘Peak’ where many of the lifestyles of Hong Kong’s rich and famous reside. It is a giant mountain overlooking all of Hong Kong, and getting up it is a long and winding road that would have made Lennon proud.

You know it is a good night when the cocktail round is a 1985 Roulot Meursault Perrieres. It was a bit cold at first, but it warmed up to reveal aromas of corn, yeast, oil, earth, gamy white meat and a hefty pat of sweet butter. In the mouth, it was round, rich, tasty and pure with long acidity and nice spice and length. This was exquisite stuff, round, smooth and buttery, ‘almondy and hazelnutty’ one noted, while another found it ‘still so fresh.’ Orange marmelade rounded out this complex and delicious white (95).

We sat down to a pair of La Turques, 1989 and 1990, to be exact. The Rhone had finally made an appearance on my Asian tour, and the 1989 Guigal Cote Rotie La Turque was special stuff. At first, it was very shy and wound, with slick tannins and alcohol, subtle and slinky yet long and elegant. Cracked white pepper, violet and crushed black fruits eased out of its reticent nose slowly but surely. The palate was quite spicy with lots of pepper, cedar and mineral flavors, yet somehow the wine was able to remain soft and caressing. There was impeccable balance, nice spice and enough pitch to make the three tenors go for thirds (96).

The 1990 Guigal Cote Rotie La Turque was a bit more controversial. At first, I preferred the 1990, I will admit. It was more open, more forward and had more fruit initially. Nonetheless, it was very similar to the ’89, also stylish and sensual, and also possessing the white pepper, the violet and the cassis, but also more yeast. One noted that it was ‘more dusty,’ while another noted its ‘mint.’ There was also more bacon, menthol and flesh, but our host was steadfastly in the 1989 camp, as was one of Hong Kong’s most respected and distinguished merchants. The question was whether this bottle of 1990 was a bit more developed than it should have been, and with oxygen its initial forward qualities started to lose focus in the glass a bit. I still did like its forward, fleshy and gamy style, but the consensus was that this bottle was just a touch off (94A).

Another pair of ’89 and ‘90s were next, this time being La Conseillante. The 1990 La Conseillante had a deep, intense nose, oh so Pomerol with its cocoa, game, plum, chocolate, dates and coconut aromas. Its t ‘n a was rock solid, and its ‘plenty of fruit’ was admired. Similar exotic flavors graced its extraordinary palate. ‘Game, game and more game,’ I wrote. In the end, the 1990 had more balance and depth than the 1989, a touch more classic, but it was a very fine hair to split (96).

The 1989 La Conseillante was similar in style but more brutish, but not in a bad way, more in a ‘watch out or it might play dirty’ way. It managed to rein all that in. Its opulent Pomerol fruit aromas seeped out of the glass. There was some caraway to go with its date and mineral flavors, along with vanilla, game and purple fruit. Opulent and more kinky than the 1990, the ’89 La Conseillante was still surely outstanding (95).

Someone made a joke about ‘Bored-eaux.’ I did tell you Asia was a continent of claret, didn’t I? Variety is not one of the Asian market’s specialties just yet, but it will come.

The next wine was quite exciting, however, despite it being yet another ”“ yawn ”“ Bordeaux. Just kidding! I still love the stuff and all of God’s children for that matter, at least when the winemaker doesn’t get in the way. The 1949 Mouton Rothschild was a great bottle of this wine though unfortunately a bit corked, but the transparency and clarity of the wine still came through on the palate. Tender, soft, smooth and easy, its corkiness blew off a bit to reveal cedar, leather, dust and tobacco flavors. Then, its cassis and black rose fruit flavors really came through. In fact, the cork seemed to disappear as both time and the wine kept unfolding in the glass. Round, beautiful and balanced, I really felt that I could still taste this seductive wine despite the initial, pronounced cork aromas, and I decided that my judgment of the wine was not clouded; hence, there will be no ‘A’ for affected for this score (94).

The last wine on this memorable evening was a blind Port. The English are so predictable, ha ha, but not this Englishman, as he served a 1900 Taylor’s Vintage Port! What a treat. Its nose was sweet, smooth and nutty, on the cherry side with a shot of Robitussin in there. Tasty yet a touch medicinal with its alcoholic edges, as Port is prone to be when it becomes ancient, it was very smooth and soft, which had me guessing 1955, but I should have known better. I’ll get it right next time (92)!

Many thanks to my generous friend. It was a great way to cap the very hard week I had in Hong Kong, but wait a second, that wasn’t the nightcap”¦all I can say is two bottles of Cristal and San Antonio Spurs dancers, no lie! They were on some promotional tour of Asia, and they liked their Champagne, so being the gentleman I am”¦it was a fun time. Thankfully, I knew when to make my exit, as I had danced my dinner off, blew off all of the week’s steam, and somehow remembered that I had to make it to Macau in the morning.

One more thing before I forget. The Hong Kong airport is also magnificent and monumental. One could spend the whole day there leisurely. In fact, most of the major airports in Asia, and the couple to which I have recently been in Europe, were all very nice, with incredible shops, spas, healthy and multiple restaurant options and often much more, although the sex shop in the Munich airport I thought was a bit inappropriate for traveling families (!) American airports are HORRIBLE by comparison, full of junk food, crummy t-shirts, often run down and grimy. Can’t we find a way to make traveling in our country a little more civilized?

After a hearty weekend in Shanghai, the next stop on my Asian tour was Taipei, capital city of Taiwan. After looking at my itinerary, then a map, and then my itinerary again, I quickly learned that China still has a chip on its shoulder in regard to Taiwan and its independence, the equivalent of sibling jealousy or resentment over an ex-wife or husband. Accordingly, one cannot travel directly to Taiwan from China, and I had to fly from Shanghai to Hong Kong, layover for an hour or so, and fly back up to Taipei, even though Taiwan is between the two. It literally made the trip a Taipei two step. I was a bit grumpy about the whole situation, especially after the consecutive head-banging evenings in Shanghai, but I soon forgot about the extra effort once I sat down to the magnificent dinner that my host had orchestrated. Someone remarked during dinner that ‘a barking dog cannot bite’ in response to my recount of the mini-ordeal.

Taiwan is an island, mountainous, rural and green by contrast to Shanghai and the flatlands surrounding it. The city of Taipei is not as awe-inspiring as Shanghai but still definitively urban and buzzing away. Taipei is a scooter city, with thousands of people driving them around at any given time. It seems to be the preferred method of transportation.

I stuck with the taxi as my choice for transportation and traveled over to the Ritz, or what was formally the Ritz, recently purchased and renamed, but basically still the Ritz. The private room in its top restaurant was ours for an evening of special Burgundy. Asia is definitively a continent of claret, so I found it quite fitting that the spirit of Burgundy would be alive and well in Taipei, as both Burgundian wine lovers and the Taiwanese seem to have that independent spirit burning inside, and on this night, the two came together in perfect harmony.

Taiwan’s most significant wine collector had gathered a group of friends together, notably another significant collector of Burgundy who also does some importing, one of its major wine and food writers and two very happy and good-natured Doctors, one of whom declared himself ‘Mr. La Tache.’ If you do not know who Taiwan’s premier collector is, then I am not going to tell you! For the sake of this article, we will call him ‘Mr. T.’

We started with a magnum of 1976 Veuve Clicquot Champagne, the traditional vintage, gold label. It had a gorgeous nose full of both white and brown sugar aromas, as well as a touch of corn oil and caramel. It was rich and buttery yet long, smooth and round, with a pinch of seltzer rounding out its nose. Its palate still had a touch of petillance and was round, rich and buttery as well. There were great corn and yeast flavors and some wheat on its finish. Very tasty and still with good acidity, it reminded me of a delicious and mature Corton Charlemagne, and after an hour in the glass and some food, it got a touch more bubbly (93)!

Mr. T pulled out one of my favorite Burgundies next, a 1985 Meo Camuzet Richebourg. It was in outstanding condition, and the wine delivered a more than outstanding performance. It had a pungent, gamy nose with incredible sweet fruit behind, a veritable symphony of red, black and purple. There were loads of vitamins, musk, minerals and pungent leather. ‘We are talking rare air,’ I wrote. Its tannins and acidity were still so fresh; it was an impeccably kept bottle. Its gamy complexity walked itself out into a Versailles garden of aromas, barefoot and perfectly manicured. The palate was equally as spectacular as the nose: rich, meaty, long and balanced with flavors of earth, game, leather, musk and dark, pungent meat. It had a pinch of benevolent barn, in a farmer’s daughter way, I suppose. A touch of benevolent cat box also joined the party, blending into a wicked streak of anise. The vigor, the kink, the intensity, the game”¦in my mind, the 1985 Meo Richebourg is the wine of the vintage (98).

A 1972 Bouchard Gevrey Chambertin Clos St. Jacques was brought by one of the guests, and it was from some stock recently released from Bouchard’s cellars and in perfect condition accordingly. It had a nice nose, full of sweet cherry fruit and excellent forest-like complexity. Brown sugar and nut along with a ginger glaze and an exotic lychee kink rounded out this youthful wine. The palate was rich, sweet and sturdy with great structure, make that surprisingly huge structure, and lots of cherry vanilla flavors. Despite that ‘o so fresh’ feeling of being reconditioned, it was still a delicious wine (93).

A 1975 Bouchard Monthelie was spontaneously opened after the success of the Clos St. Jacques. Monthelie and 1975 are not usually a few of any Burgundy connoisseur’s favorite things, but the nose was pleasant, and I never would have guessed either 1975 or Monthelie if served blind. Mild and a touch metallic, square and with noticeable acid, the wine was rusty and spiny, hard as nails without being too, too hard. Still a touch awkward, Mr. T commented on its ‘sour wood’ (86).

The final wine of the evening was a 1971 La Tache, a bottle that had been to Taiwan and back. Let me explain further. Now I knew Mr. T was an old Burgundy lover based on his bidding history, and I promised to bring a bottle of Burgundy to share on this special night. The week before my trip to Asia, I was cataloguing away in the cellar of ‘The Man with the Golden Cellar,’ the incredible and potential $15M collection coming to you this October via Acker Auctions. When I was inventorying the ’71 La Taches and the different batches that this spectacular collection has, I noted a couple of bottles with Taiwanese strip labels on them, and right then and there, I decided that I was going to splurge. That was going to be the bottle I was going to bring back to Taiwan. The bottle was gorgeous; great fill, cork branded correctly, everything about it looked heaven sent, and I was very proud of myself with the notion that I was going to bring this bottle back to Taiwan and its original resting place. I would later find out that Mr. T knew the importer quite well, as I should have guessed!

I must interrupt this tasting note with an important news bulletin. Whenever an American sees an Asian strip label on a bottle of wine, more often than not, that American will look at that bottle as being ‘bad’ or highly risky, etc. Conversely, I have found that wines with American strip labels suffer from the same bias here in Asia. You know what I discovered on my trip? I found out that those who are professional and serious about their wine in Asia are taking care of the product just like we do here in the States, and that the same can be said for both of our continents’ serious collectors. This notion of inferior provenance here and there, trumpeted by many in such major supply markets as London and Bordeaux, is an unfair assessment, one that is also conveniently justifying higher sale prices in said markets, as well as keeping the Asian and American markets more apart. There will always be a small risk when buying older wines, no matter where they come from; small, that is, if you are dealing with reputable merchants that thoroughly inspect and care for the wine. More great wine has gone to America over the last fifteen years than anywhere else, and the time is now for America to emerge as more of an important secondary wine market for the rest of the world. The weak dollar should also make the stock here all the more attractive to foreign buyers. Asia’s consumption is rapidly on the rise, so put two and two together, and now you know why I have been here for almost three weeks, and also why I have only gotten to the third night of its tasting notes. Sorry, it has been a ridiculously busy trip, twelve years in the making”¦*hiccup*

Back to the ’71 La Tache”¦now this was a bottle that was definitely shaken, not stirred. Since one cannot carry a bottle of wine onto the plane anymore, this bottle went into the luggage and not only went from New York to Shanghai, but also then from Shanghai to Hong Kong to Taipei the same day it was being drunk, and the bottle was still spectacular. I am not sure that bottle shock is something I believe anymore! Yes, it was a bit murky from the sediment being integrated into the wine, but it did not take away from the wine at all. The experience reminded me of a ’45 Haut Brion that I had to ship overnight for a dinner a couple of years ago that was also phenomenal. Its nose was spectacular, incredible, amazing”¦insert your own superlative here. Rose and oil were first and foremost, then there was this ménage a toi of citrus, leather and cedar, you know, the tasteful kind ha ha. The vitamins, minerals, spice and overall depth were extraordinary. ‘This is the 71 LT I know and love,’ I wrote. The musk qualities were bringing sexy back, and the wine itself was bordering on a sexual experience. This was sheer liquid nobility, and all these observations are just describing the aromas! The palate kept pace with the nose; first and foremost, there was rust, citrus and spine galore. Its t ‘n a was enormous, searing my mouth with its laser-like precision and possessing enough acidity to go another 36 years. There was a touch of vanilla and cream soda, and a also hint of eucalyptus. Rich and rusty with great spice, the ’71 La Tache also had a hint of tomato stew, in a good way. What a wine (98).

There were no late night escapades in Taiwan. It was off to Hong Kong in the morning for four nights and a busy agenda, and I needed some rest.

Shanghai Nights

Greetings from Asia. I have begun my first tour of duty here in the Pacific Rim, and I started my trip off with a weekend in Shanghai. The fourteen plus hour flight did not seem so bad since I was able to sleep for close to nine hours of it; of course, that was only made possible by a miserable all-night catalog production the night before. I think I got home at 6am, and scraped myself out of bed at 9am, as there was much to do before departing that evening. Well, I made it, although the final proof of this catalog is still haunting me five days later. It’s a big one.

I was given a good tip to stay at the Grand Hyatt all the way throughout my seven city, three week tour, and the Grand Hyatt in Shanghai is housed within Shanghai’s tallest building, its lobby on the 54th floor. The views are accordingly spectacular and worth the trip alone; it is a sight to behold, looking out over all of Shanghai, an endless sea of a city, home to over 20 million people and growing everyday. The view from the Grand Hyatt made New York seem like, well, Chinatown, and with construction everywhere, there seems to be no sign of that changing anytime soon.

Many of you know of my close friendship with one of my fellow enthusiasts , wine collector extraordinaire, yet only a few of you know the Doctor’s older brother, who spends half his year in Shanghai. Since three out of the four wines we drank together were Chateau Margaux, we will now, at least temporarily, knight him, ‘Mr. Margaux.’

I arrived at 5am, worked my tail off until 11, and then had a lunch meeting, nap and then dinner with Mr. Margaux. Taxi drivers in Shanghai are the equivalent of a free ride at Great Adventure, one for which you definitely need to be at least ‘this high.’ Buckle up and hold on! They won’t understand a word you are saying either, so don’t bother to tell them to slow down. The difference between 229 and 299 was a five-minute discussion with plenty of sign language as we tried to find my destination’s building number.

Mr. Margaux took me to Jean Georges in order to ease my transition into the Eastern world. You know that a city is significant when a chef like Jean Georges opens up shop in it. I am sure we will see more of the same in the near future in Shanghai. Dinner was very good, and we had a bottle of Champagne and a bottle of Margaux to warm up our whistles on this busy Friday night.

If there is one thing you can count on in this world, it’s that you will find Dom Perignon in every major city in the world. What do they make of that stuff now, 4 million cases a year? Just kidding, Nicole, and it was good to see a familiar face on the wine list to start things off, 1996 Dom Perignon to be exact. Toasty, lean and racy, there was a bit of a white Burgundian, smoky complexity to the nose in this 1996 DP, along with distinct corn oil aromas. I have had a lot of variation with the ’96 already in its short life, but this was an excellent bottle, with flavors of rainwater, musk, toast and yeast. Of course, it had the vintage’s fantastic acidity, but the wine was just a touch square at the moment, a squareness that I am sure time will undo (94+).

The 1986 Margaux was about as open as this wine has ever been for me, possessing dense plum and cassis fruit, forward in its personality and more forgiving than most ‘86s I have had of late. The wine also had some noticeable oak in the nose, not offensive, yet noticeable, which is never something I would call a good thing, either. In time, the oak integrated well, however, and this was a perfumed ’86, actually charming and seductive. Make no mistake about it, there was still a very sturdy backbone of tannins and acidity behind it, but in a good posture kind of way, in that you don’t notice it until you see someone/thing without it. Mr. Margaux noted ‘flowers and earth.’ The palate was spicy, with vanilla and oakflavors most noticeable, a bit shy overall, yet its big acidity and dry tannins made their presence more known in the mouth than in the nose. Its long finish had earthy flavors, and its fruit was a bit dormant in the mouth, typical for most ‘86s at the moment. Mr. Margaux noted the ‘tannins and acid are most noticeable in ’86; it is a long-term vintage and relatively a bargain accordingly.’ He also admired the ‘elegance of the earth’ and the terroir of Margaux. The 1986 Margaux was a spiny wine, still unyielding in the mouth despite signs of charm and finishing school in the nose; it was definitely an iron fist, without the velvet glove just yet (94+).

Mr. Margaux took me on a tour of Shanghai’s nightlife after dinner, beginning with a walk through XinTianDi (translation New Heaven Earth). This area had plenty of pubs and shops and reminded me a bit of a college town atmosphere, with lots of community eating and drinking and a buzz in the air. There were also plenty of foreigners in this area, so it is a good place to visit when in Shanghai. Fellas, be prepared to be aggressively courted by many young women in Shanghai. For a country where pornography is illegal, one of the world’s oldest professions seems to be thriving. Not that I partook ”“ yes, I can hear the cascade of ‘yeah yeahs’ all over America, thanks guys, but I did get asked on eight occasions during the evening between here and a stroll up and down Heng Shan Lu, another area filled with local bars and restaurants, with more locals and less foreigners but still that college town feel. It was a fun night, one that ended up at Bar Rouge, one of Shanghai’s top night clubs, where we proceeded to conduct a Champagne head-to-head matchup of Krug Grande Cuvee versus 1999 Cristal.

The Krug was delicious, as always, and I actually preferred it to the DP. Its balance, flavors, length and style were everything I could ask for in a quality Champagne. There is no doubt that the ‘Multi-Vintage’ Krug Grande Cuvee is the best buy in all of luxury Champagnes. Every home should have at least four six-packs on hand! Stop thinking Champagne is for special occasions; Champagne is for every occasion (95).

The 1999 Cristal was extra special, extraordinary in its combination of elegance and power. Its flavors were crisp, clean and intense, long and stylish with superb acidity that did not get in the way of the purity and style of the wine. It was integrated despite its extraordinary length. Its aromas of lightly toasted bread, corn and minerals danced around our table aptly with all the young ladies the Champagne seemed to attract. I love it when that happens. We danced the night away, so I was able to skip the morning workout (97).

Day two saw a couple of more meetings for me. The wine market in China is still in its infancy, and despite a big buzz in America about ‘China China China’ when it comes to wine and especially Lafite Rothschild, premier grand vin of choice of the Chinese, there is still a long way to go for fine wine to become a part of the everyday culture here. Those of you more interested in hearing about it can take me out to some dim sum in NYC! Speaking of which, on my second night in Shanghai, Mr. Margaux treated me to some local cuisine before heading to ”“ yikes ”“ a karaoke bar. Damnit, here it was, only my second night in Asia, and I was already in some karaoke place. There is no way I was taking the microphone, I knew that already. I can drop the hammer, but I can hardly carry a tune. At least this was a private club with private rooms, so if it got ugly, the embarrassment would be minimal. Mr. Margaux held court with some more wines from his cellar and a few friends.

The main event was the always-interesting match-up of ’95 versus ’96 Margaux. The 1995 Margaux had a soft, seductive nose, which was still wide in its aromatics. It had a delicate perfume yet was still forceful with its nut, cassis and mineral aromas. T ‘n a oozed out of its glass after a lot of coaxing, yet the wine never lost its balance. There were nice earth and toast elements underneath, rounding out the nose. The palate had outstanding spice and acidity. It was long and smooth, seductive and charming with a nice minerality to its finish. Pure and classic, the palate maintained the gymnast-worthy balance of the nose admirably (95).

The 1996 Margaux had a spicier nose; its tannins and alcohol jumped out right away compared to the charm and tickle of 1995. There was more of a cedary whiff to its profile. The personality of the nose was strict and stern, spiny and long, deep and dungeon-y. There was definitely some spank to the ’96; it was as if little miss ’95 went home after work and put on the full black leather outfit and let her hair down, whip in hand. The palate was enormous compared to the ’95, with a tidal wave of a finish and massive acidity and gritty, dry tannins. Its length was superb; this is easily a 50-100 year wine, and after some time, even some dense fruit developed. Superb stuff (97).

There was one last wine to the weekend, and it was a 1998 Lafleur. The Lafleur had a deep, intense nose full of chunky, meaty Pomerol fruit. Chocolate, graham cracker crust and black and blueberries were present as well. There was a balancing beam of anise with an exotic edge to its fruit, almost tropical but not quite. The nose was also full of iron, complementing its meat and game. The palate was huge, enormously endowed, wound and a bit unforgiving. In another twenty years, it will be forgiven for sure! Game, twisted t ‘n a, plum, anise, mineral, that Pomerol kink and that exotic Lafleur edge to the fruit were all there. It was another spectacular, 50-100 year wine (96+).

Somehow we ended up at Bar Rouge again, and they were out of Krug, so we did the 1998 Dom Perignon versus the 1999 Cristal. It was not much of a contest, but the DP was pleasant, smooth and easy to drink (91). As I admired the women that had surrounded us in the club, Mr. Margaux gave me some wise advice, an old Chinese proverb. ‘It is ok to squeeze the milk, but don’t take home the cow.’

Shortly thereafter, I went home, cowless, but on my way out, I was reminded that Shanghai is still a tale of two cities. For all the construction, excitement and energy in the city, there is still a great deal of poverty as well. Outside of the club, there were mothers with their young children in tow, using them to beg for money. A young boy got on his knees in front of me, and I couldn’t help but give him something, I mean, he had to only be seven or eight years old. So I reached into my pocket and peeled off 100 RMB, the Chinese equivalent of thirteen US dollars, and he started screaming at the top of his lungs as if he had just scored the winning goal in overtime of the World Cup final. There were instantly more than a dozen other beggars heading my way, and I was whisked away into a taxi before getting stampeded. It is a memory that will never leave me.

One of New York’s most renowned and important collectors celebrated his 50th birthday in fine fashion recently at Bouley’s private ‘Test Kitchen’ here in New York City. David was at the top of his game for the twenty-some-odd courses that came out. Although the tables were set, it ended up being more of a cocktail party, with the cocktails being some of the 20th century’s greatest wines, mostly in magnum, many brought by the eager invitees. It was a fitting celebration for a gentleman whose cellar is already fit for a king.

There wasn’t much white wine to be had on this summery afternoon, but there were three significant samples to warm up with, beginning with a magnum of 1989 Jadot Chevalier Montrachet Les Demoiselles. For the rest of this article, unless I say otherwise, the wine was served from magnum. The Jadot was alcoholic at first, wound out of magnum. Aromas of corn oil, butter and caramel fought through along with mild citrus flavors, light tang and smoke. It was a bit monolithic but still rich and buttery, excellent overall. Cotton candy aromas and apple flavors developed (93M).

A magnum of 1986 Ramonet Montrachet had a sweet and pure nose, with the style, balance, depth and reserve that only Montrachet could have. Its sweetness in the nose was buttery in the usual style of the vintage. The palate was rich, heady and alcoholic; a touch square yet still stellar. Baked bread crust aromas and flavors joined the party. Big, buttery and brawny, there was an alcoholic pop to its finish (94+M).

After a little air, the 1989 Ramonet Montrachet revealed aromas of classic mint, sweet cream and white fruits. There was almost a hint of jasmine to the nose, but not quite, and Ray added ‘lavender but not quite.’ Charcoal and ‘sage’ (Ray again). made appearances as well. Again big, brawny and buttery, both Montrachets proved young out of magnum, and a little square as a result (95+M).

The first red was probably the day’s most controversial, and probably deservedly so since it was a 1870 Lafite Rothschild. a close friend of mine was doubting the 1870 part of the wine right away but still found it ‘Lafite, sweet and almost Burgundian.’ Now I have been blessed to have an original bottle of 1870 Mouton once, a bottle that was spectacular. This wine was not that and clearly reconditioned. After that, unfortunately, it is anyone’s guess anyway as to what the wine really is. Could it have had some 1870 in it? I thought so, but for something that old to have as much youth as it did bothered some. However, its older qualities still took center stage. There was a lot of tobacco in the nose along with old book and cedar. Its flavors were gravelly. There was not a ‘whole lotta’ acidity, but there was lushness, and it had that old Lafite character. Its finish was chalky and minerally, and its flavors had an old cobweb feel despite a sweet cherry core. Slate and citrus also emerged on its lightly gritty finish. It was definitely Lafite, probably some 1870, and still an interesting wine but not the earth shatterer it was supposed to be (91M).

A 1945 Vogue Musigny Vieilles Vignes was unfortunately a touch oxidized. It still had tender, soft, old fruit and complex aromas of cloves, cinnamon, hoisin BBQ and earth. Tender, old and endearing, this magnum was not dead yet, though definitely in a nursing home. Pleasant rose and citrus flavors and a nice, lip-smacking finish rounded out this salty old magnum. a close friend of mine felt it was about 65% of what it was supposed to be (93A-M).

Despite stumbling out of the gate a little, all was soon well after a pair of 1962 Burgundies were opened, beginning with a 1962 Vogue Musigny Vieilles Vignes. Hello, Doctor. The nose had gorgeous perfume, hauntingly elegant yet still backed by some hybrid of sweet cherry oil, liqueur and fruit. Sweet and creamy, there was tender cherry fruit and cinnabon flavors along with traces of oat and wheat. Round, satiny and smooth; long, exotic and gorgeous, the 1962 Vogue was a knockout (97M).

The 1962 Ponsot Clos de la Roche Vieilles Vignes was an equal match, yet a totally different style. Eddie admired its ‘meaty and bloody’ personality, while I its great, rich, chocolaty fruit. There were loads of iron and vitamins in this healthy wine, and wicked cherry tang, all coming together in a nose of exquisite pitch. Its flavors were citrusy and vimful, perfectly balanced with its beef and earth notes. Great, exotic chocolate flavors rounded out this spectacular wine, although most including Ray and Shelley were in the Vogue camp if forced to pick a preference (96M).

The 1978 Ponsot Clos de la Roche was no match for the ’62. Its nose was musty, dirty and earthy, a bit off. Its flavors were bright with citrus and earth, however, with hints of chocolate. There was good balance to its solid palate, but the wine soon got lost and forgotten amongst the greatness uncorked that afternoon (92M).

It was Ponsot again, this time the extra-terrestrial 1959 Ponsot Clos de la Roche Vieilles Vignes. Its nose oozed out gorgeous, cherry fruit, that forward, warm, sweet fruit of 1959. Breadcrust, earth, sand and cement were behind its sweet core. The palate was superb with incredible vigor and spice. Its acidity and alcohol were alive and kicking more than Mick Jagger, and its rich, lush and smooth personality won the whole crowd over. Dust and citrus flavors competed with its gamy overall flavor profile. It was pretty much everyone’s favorite wine of the afternoon so far. Smooth yet complex, it was a tasty book of knowledge. Rob called it ‘on a different level.’ I commented to a close friend of mine how I do not think this wine will ever reach the heights of that one bottle we shared last October, to which he replied that ‘the first time is always better.’ The second, actually make that at least the third, time was still a charm (97+M).

We were back on the ’62 wagon with a 1962 Rousseau Chambertin. Like whoa. The Rousseau’s nose was unbelievable, and given three out of the last four wines, that was no easy task. Deep and meaty, the Rousseau’s nose clearly possessed the most power, and was the most ‘precise’ per a close friend of mine. Tom ‘loved the earthy elements.’ Minerals, vitamins and a touch of lit match rounded out its nose. Its palate was full of stems, meat and vitamins, possessing great length, breed and style. Tom called it the ‘breed of the day,’ and he would know, being not all that far from Churchill Downs a lot of the time (98M).

A 1962 Romanee Conti was both thrilling yet also disappointing. It had an incredible nose full of earth, beef, menthol, spice, date, autumnal forest floor and black cherry cola. Yes, it was complex. Jennifer picked up on ‘apricots,’ and they were totally there. Absolutely delicious at first, there was rich and meaty fruit that quickly morphed into more of a figgy quality. Spice and apricot jam were on its finish, and bouillon came out along with ‘burnt coffee’ (Tom). Although this bottle flashed brilliance, it was ultimately slightly oxidized, and as a result it did not have much staying power in the glass, quickly falling in stature (95A-M).

Our first regular-sized bottle was a 1966 Lafleur. Keeping up with the Joneses aka the Burgundies, the Lafleur also had a gorgeous nose, although it was a decided left turn with its Pomerol cream, chocolate and minerals. Rich, smooth and long with impeccable balance, the ’66 was in a beautiful spot (94).

A magnum of 1961 Latour was next, and I think it was the third time Eddie had had this wine out of magnum during the past month. When it rains, it pours. The wines were starting to come at a brisker pace, so I only have a brief note on this particular occasion. The Latour had a great palate, indubitably intense and full of its classic sea salt. Someone called it the one of the best mags of ’61 Latour they had ever had, and some huge argument broke out, most likely with Ray in the middle of it, or at least inciting the small riot (96M).

A 1945 La Mission Haut Brion settled things down. This particular magnum was reconditioned in 1989, and it reminded me somewhat of the 1870 Lafite with its reconditioned personality, and its similar aromas of gravel, old book and cedar. Its palate was much richer, quite hearty, big and powerful. It was almost a touch too big, but it leveled out with some air to provide an outstanding glass of wine (95M).

Bottles again appeared for a duo of Guigals, the first being a legendary needle in the haystack, a 1966 Guigal Cote Rotie La Mouline. The notes were getting more and more illegible, but I still managed to observe superb cedary dust, minerals, chocolate and earth. The bottle was a little shook up and the wine murky accordingly, but there was still olive, game, menthol and bacon to this delicious and decadent bottle of La Mouline. I have had better bottles, but this one was still superb (96).

A 1978 Guigal Cote Rotie La Landonne was also delicious, stony and with big-time earth and spice. Robust and rocky, the La Landonne was a bit rugged and square after the sensuous ’66 La Mouline, but it was still round, rich and long (95).

A bottle of 1961 Haut Brion was absolutely delicious, full of decadent chocolate, coffee and caramel. There was also earth in the delicious bottle of delicious wine; I couldn’t stop writing the word ‘delicious’ (96).

The end was near, as we finally left France with a pair of Unico magnums. The 1968 Vega Sicilia Unico was rich and smooth with that leathery kink unique to the wines of Spain. Ben found it ‘rustic,’ and someone else observed ‘faint raspberry’ (95M).

The 1970 Vega Sicilia Unico had a great nose full of leather and peanut. Robert admired its ‘Bordeaux-like’ personality. Deep, rich, sweet and intense, the 1970 outshone the 1968 for the first time when I have had them side by side”¦I think (96M).

Last but not least was a magnum of 1900 Yquem. ‘Caramel sex heaven’ seemed like an accurate descriptor at the time and also a good place to be going right about then. It could have been considered old to some, but mature and wise to others like me (95M).

That’s it and that’s all. Eddie, I have always thought 51 as a more significant number to celebrate than 50. And then there’s 52 of course”¦