Warning: This email is very long, but if you like French wines, it is well worth reading.

This past week brought me to Paris for my yearly pilgrimage. It is a trip sparked by the passion of Dr. Bipin Desai for the best that the food and wine world has to offer, and there is no doubt that Paris is as good a place as any for this pursuit. Bipin organizes a week-long trip out to Paris every September, and it is well worth the effort of forgetting that it is actually September, that summer is officially over, and remembering that life is something meant to be sipped slowly and savored. Of course, between lunch and dinner, lunch and dinner, lunch and dinner, and that additional pursuit of packing on about ten pounds (or so it felt), I found time to work every second I could in communicating back to home base and specifically preparing to make our October auction while also making sure things were sailing smoothly over in the shop.

The trip also afforded me the opportunity to say hello to a few friends and clients in the area, and the trip started off innocently enough with a casual dinner Sunday evening in the home of S. and his lovely wife Cecile. We started off with a 1996 Dom Perignon, and we were quickly marveling at not only the quality of the 1996, but also about how they make close to one million bottles of it when a vintage is declared, and how that has to translate into about $50-75 million for the company each vintage. Not bad. The 1996 DP was a good way to start the trip and reminded me that if I had to stock up on one vintage of Champagne for the long haul, it would be 1996. The DP was fresh, racy and full of minerals with lots of zip and zest and a stone-faced personality. The wet rock and youthful mineral flavors were delicious, and the acidity left no doubt that this wine would shine for a long, long time. There was still a delicacy to it, and while it was not rich up front or in its fruit qualities yet, the finish left no doubt that this is an all-time classic for DP (96+). We had two wines with dinner, the first being a 1978 Domaine de Chevalier Rouge. 1978 is one of those forgotten vintages, but with wines like Haut Brion, La Mission Haut Brion, Margaux and Latour amongst others, it is still a vintage worth keeping an eye on. It was probably best in the Graves overall, and this Domaine de Chevalier backed up that argument. It had a great nose full of nutty, plummy cassis fruit, accompanied by chocolate and vigorous alcohol, supplemented by a firm backdrop of earth and cedar. ‘Still young,’ S. observed as he reminisced over when he first had this wine and how he is always seeking it. There was a lot of acidity and alcohol on the palate, zesty and fresh without being overbearing. I really liked the wine, the vigor of the earth, nut and tobacco flavors, its chocolate and nut kisses, and the chalky, spiny finish (93). S. had a little fun with me with the second wine, servingit blind. After swinging and missing a couple times, he mercifully revealed that it was a 2000 C. Dugat Gevrey Chambertin ‘Premier Cru.’ I will say that the wine did give me an initial Rhone-like impression with its extraction. ‘Very extracted’ were the first things I said when the wine’s identity was revealed. The wine had cigar and chocolate in the nose with some sour cherry, earth and almost sea air. The nose was musky, tangy and intense, and the palate was rich, fleshy, tangy and vigorous. There was excellent extraction, pushing the limits of extraction for a red Burgundy yet somehow not over the top. There were lots of vitamin flavors that developed, and this is one of the best 2000s that I have had in recent memory, stalky and jammy with nice stem and spice flavors on the finish. The acidity was excellent, and I thought to myself how perplexing a producer Dugat is, sometimes exhilarating as in this bottle of premier cru, but also disappointing in others, like his 2002 Griottes that I had earlier in the year. I think his 2000s look like a buy, however (92+).

The next day saw a doubleheader at Taillevent, one of Paris’ longstanding culinary institutions. This was no ordinary day, for Bipin had assembled about 40 vintages of Chateau Montrose, all sourced directly from the chateau, whose owners and winemaker were also in attendance. The vertical was so vast that it was split into day and evening sessions. Not only were the owners and winemaker there, but almost every significant European wine writer/critic was in attendance as well. Gerald Asher, Michel Bettane, Michael Broadbent, Clive Coates, David Peppercorn, Jancis Robinson, Steven Spurrier, James Suckling and Serena Sutcliffe were all there, amongst others. I was quite honored to be one of the media’s three ‘American representatives,’ as Bipin told me. James Suckling and Tara Weingarten were the others, and I gladly accepted the challenge of helping represent the USA amongst this venerable group.

Paris is a city of firsts for many, whether it is one’s first culinary epiphany or the birth of a first love; for me, it was my first 2003 Bordeaux, the 2003 Montrose, of course, reputedly one of the wines of the vintage. Clive, to whom I was sitting next, had previously told me that 2003 was a good Bordeaux vintage if you liked California Cabernet, so I was quite curious to experience it firsthand. The 2003 Montrose had a very ripe and rich nose with remarkable sweetness yet noticeable terroir; it was very complex with its nut, mineral and earth components with some piercing (more like pinching) alcohol and acidity aromas underneath its massive fruit. Chocolate, coconut and good wood rounded out its exotic and meaty nose. Secondary aromas of freshly baked bread developed later on. The palate was rich and oily with lots of nut, chocolate, plum and oil flavors. The finish was a touch dry, the acidity solid, and the wine was overall rich and sexy, always a good combination in my book. Clive muttered how everyone should drink it now while we could because it won’t get any better, and that there was ‘too much Chateauneuf du Pape here,’ referring to its overripe quality, adding that all 2003 Burgundies taste like they were ‘made by Helen Turley.’ Clearly, 2003 was a hot year everywhere in France. Steven Spurrier was quick to defend the 2003 when the topic arose. The only negative thing I can say about the 2003 is that after three hours in the glass, while the 2000 was still going strong, the 2003 seemed to be losing its focus, although I did only have a half of a swallow left by that time, so perhaps that was a factor. How wines expand and hold over time in the glass is always a sign of greatness in a young wine. Despite sitting next to Clive and the enormous influence he was trying to wield, I still found the wine outstanding (95). The 2002, ‘an ignored vintage’ according to Clive, had a more classic nose with more prominent cedar to go with the earth and terroir of St. Estephe. It did have a pinch of exotic cinnamon and a smoky edge; the nose gave me a log cabin impression, an impression not intended to be negative or imply an overuse of oak. The fruit came out with time, but the palate was clearly lighter than the 2003 pleasant, yet lighter and not nearly as definitive with its structural components. There were pleasant flavors of pencil shavings on the finish (89). The 2000 seemed to have tightened up, certainly having much more structure and much less baby fat than the 2003 at this point. There were great aromas of smoke, cedar and minerals; the wine had breed and was elevated and stylish, though definitely in reserve. The nose had impressive length; it was deep, dusty and a veritable spice box of dried herbs. Frank wondered if it was ‘a little green,’ but I found that to be a quality of the 1996 more so and not here really. Michel Bettane found significant bottle variation between the two bottles of 2000 that were served. Some fireplace action emerged with the wood, ash and brick, and some sweetness slowly slinked out. The acidity kept gaining in the glass, and as previously mentioned, three hours later the wine was still going strong. The structure was indubitably outstanding; there was great balance to its body and flavors between the front and back ends, but it did not quite have the weight I expected, perhaps a stage. The wine was still outstanding, don’t get me wrong. Clive called it ‘glorious,’ though ‘a bit adolescent,’ and that it had ‘gone into its shell, which you’d expect. Drink after 2015.’ While the 2003 was more enjoyable right now, the 2000 reeked of more potential (95+). The 1996 had the first sign of green, benevolent in a bean and forest way, and thick cassis underneath it in a rich and chunky way with a waxy edge. Candle wax, mint, caraway and alcohol rounded out the nose. The palate was gritty and spicy, hearty, long and back-sided; i.e., more finish than fruit. There was lots of lingering acidity. That pinch of green was also on the palate more in its bean form; I did like its style, but I could see some not liking it, such as Clive, who called it the ‘least exciting’ of the flight and not having the ‘same dimensions’ (91). The 1990 has always been a bit of a controversial wine in my mind, never living up to my expectations. I suppose I need to curl up with a bottle for five hours, as Mr. Squires insists, one of these days; my one Achilles’ heel as a wine writer is that I tend to experience many wines at once and smaller samples. I enjoy the comparison and contrast of that format most; however, I do recognize that my impressions may be more snapshots than full length videos, but I doubt that I am alone in that regard when it comes to those in the business of publishing their notes. Back to the 1990 the nose had that greenish hue with the bean but also a sweet pinch of cinnamon, and there were much more pronounced aromas of barnyard and animal, which has always been one of my issues with this wine. There were a lot of horses racing around my glass, thoroughbreds perhaps, but horses nonetheless. A touch of morning mouth did not help, and I am talking about the wine and not me. The nose needed a lot of coaxing to shed its animal skin and don a mineral one. Once that skin was shed, I slowly started to become more infatuated with the wine and found more mocha, coffee and piercing minerals within. The horsy quality faded back in and out; it was a wine that almost needed to be swirled a few minutes before each sip and evaluation. The richness of fruit was clearly superior though, but its animal components kept distracting me. The plump, rich and fat fruit combined with its elegant and long acidity won me over a bit, but I still have my doubts about this ‘modern-day legend’ (95). The 1989 had a fabulous nose with a gorgeous center point with minerals and alcohol balanced around it. The nose was searing yet not too hot; ‘just right,’ as Goldilocks might say. There was a great balance of cedar and nut; the fruit was there but lurking, and Frank picked up on some ‘iodine.’ It was my style of nose rich, hearty and spiny with a nut oil/syrup thing happening. The palate was rich, fleshy and leathery; perhaps the wine does not have as much long-term potential as the 1990 or others, but it was my favorite at this point in time of the first flight. Right there and right then, it was great. Its soy-like ripe fruit and ripe tannins were lip-smacking good (96). The room was divided about 50/50 over the 1989 versus 1990 debate. While Clive found the 1989 ‘hedonistic’ and the 1990 ‘classic,’ Michel found it the exact opposite. So much for a consensus amongst experts! Clive asked Michel whether he liked 2003 or 2004 more, to which Michel replied, ‘2005.’ That’s right, ladies and gentlemen, start your engines as it looks like 2005 could be a great vintage in Bordeaux. This first flight was decanted roughly two hours before being served; for the rest of the wines served, it was about thirty minutes.

We traveled back in time exactly a quarter-century for the next flight, beginning with the 1964. The nose was pungent, and we were ‘starting to get in that area I like,’ Frank coyly observed. ‘You mean that yummy, tasty, mature area?’ I smiled back. Let me say once again and for the record that Bordeaux does not truly get great for at least thirty years, and I am sorry for anyone that thinks otherwise. The nose of the 1964 was quite pungent, with a lot of alcohol to go with its cedar, brick, cinnamon, earth and leather aromas. The nose was definitely alive and kicking, and some forest emerged as the nose started to flirt with some baked nuts. The palate was dry and cedary, pleasant and lightly spicy, but lacking weight in the middle. The wine was still bordering on very good and had some exotic and very faint banana flavors, but the palate was really all about the cedar, that and a drop of chocolate. Overall, the wine was on the dry and austere side but still nice (89). The 1961 had a very vegetal nose at first with lots of that 1990 horse, animal and barnyard action. Michel was quick to point out that 1961 may be a ‘legendary vintage, but bottles are not always legendary.’ I started to work the wine in my glass a bit, and the earth of St. Estephe emerged, but the wine had a bit of a mildewy edge that was bothersome, and it was not cork or bottle taint. The wine was much better on the palate, where it was rich, smooth, satiny and round. Almost fully mature, there was still vigor and life here, but it was not the impression that most ’61s give me on a regular basis. There were solid leather flavors, and the wine was certainly very good, but not great. I wondered about the bottle being affected somehow (91?). David Peppercorn reminisced about how in 1961, a lot of people were short on money, so many chateaux were selling on futures in July before the vintage was even harvested. He added that there is an old saying in Bordeaux, that ‘if a vintage is small, it will be even smaller.’ The 1959 saw some bottle variation, but two of the bottles were glorious. A third was opened to replace one of the bottles; in general, there were two bottles of each wine served and occasionally a third opened when one came into question. There was significantly more power and stuffing than the ’61 and excellent vigor and spice in the nose. There was some black cherry fruit underneath it all. The mouthfeel was rich with excellent structure as well, and strawberries started spilling out of the glass to the point of ‘wow.’ The nose became more chocolaty and figgy. Classic, muscular, balanced, rich, hearty and spicy, the 1959 Montrose was an outstanding wine (96). The 1955 was no slouch, quickly picking up where the 1959 left off. The nose was seductive with great cedar, nut and caramel aromas, and touches of animal, brick and cinnamon. The nose was fabulous and almost stole the show from the 1959. I went on my ’55 tangent, about how this was probably one of the most overlooked, overall, great vintages of the century. Frank chipped in how it was Jean-Michel Cazes’ favorite vintage as well. Secondary layers of spice, earth and sawdust of cedar rounded out its complex nose. The palate was great; its earthy flavors fit right in with its overall personality, and caramel ones supplemented the earth wonderfully. It was a close call with the 1959, which ultimately had more power and hence a higher score (95). The 1953 had a nutty, figgy nose with some pastry and bakery aromas relating to molasses, gingerbread and confectioners’ sugar. The wine was maderized, more mature than the other wines in its peer group; all three bottles were off in the same way. It was very ripe, bordering on stewed. There were lots of nutty, vanilla flavors, easy and simple ones, with some old book flavors as well. A little woodsy on the palate, these bottles of 1953 were definitely past their prime but still had some enjoyable qualities (87A). The 1952 was the year Michel Bettane was born, and he joked how the wine was ‘a bit younger than me today.’ At first, the nose was quite bizarre and total chalk city; it was almost as if we were smelling more glass than wine. The nose was extremely spiny in a floor cleaner way, but that is 1952, someone said, all finish. Nut and carob emerged on the nose and on the palate, and the palate was certainly all about ’52 a hard, whips and chains nature with robust tannins and finish. I found the wine quite tasty with lots of backside flavors of rust, brick, earth, leather, dust and cedar. It held quite well and had excellent stuffing. Bipin insisted on the 1952 being included after having an incredible magnum and said that it was one of the wines of the vintage. Someone remarked how ’52s were better palate wines than nose ones, and Leoville Barton and Calon Segur also came up as sleepers, along with Mouton. The wine was excellent, bordering on outstanding but not quite (94).

The last flight was one so rare that it will most likely never be recreated. We started with the 1918. Frank was admiring its ‘sweet’ nose, although I found it to be more buttery and oaky. In fact, it was the first nose where the oak bothered me a bit old oak, of course. It was brought to our attention that most of the wines, at least in this flight, except the 1916 which had original corks, were reconditioned at the chateau in 1993. HOWEVER, at Chateau Montrose, all wines are reconditioned with the same vintage (BRAVO). One of greatest tragedies of the 20th century in Bordeaux are the amount of wines that were reconditioned, or topped off, with younger wines, especially when a majority of them did not even have to be in the first place. Basically, we are talking winocide, perhaps more like sedation, as reconditioned wines that are topped off never reach the heights of original or properly reconditioned bottles. Without naming names, suffice it to say that there were some significant chateaux in Bordeaux that topped off many wines, wines with good fills even, unnecessarily and incorrectly. But I digress the 1918 came around a bit with some aeration, although Francois Audouze and Michel both said that wines of this age are meant to sit in the glass and not be swirled. Well, mine benefited from some swirling, and some carob, old wood and book, a touch of musk and caramel all emerged. The wine had nice texture and body, flesh and balance, still meat on its bones, but its flavors were definitely old. Its ‘oldness’ was not necessarily a negative, but not necessarily a positive either. Frank said ‘it still has life, but it might need a eulogy soon.’ The structure held, and I had to respect the wine, but its old flavors were not my cup of tea. Serena Sutcliffe waxed on about the wine’s virtues, however, calling it ‘scented’ and ‘so elegant.’ She filled us in on a bit of history, reminding us that at the time it was regarded as a big vintage that needed time, and that in the past,vintages were not judged as they are now (90). The 1916 was next, and we were reminded about how World War I was taking place at the time this wine was made. Its nose was maderized just a touch yet still fresh. There was definite Madeira in the nose, along with worcestershire, tomato and syrup. The palate was much fresher than the nose had me expecting with flavors of caramel, nut, earth and slate. Its freshness on the palate was all the more remarkable considering this was the one wine that was not reconditioned. Its finish and texture were excellent, and Serena agreed how despite the fact that the nose was a touch maderized, the palate was quite good (93). The 1911, despite looking a bit like primordial soup in the glass, was outstanding. I guess I got the bottom of the bottle, as Frank’s glass was clear, so I tried his first. It was classic with lots of minerals, brick and cedar and had outstanding flavors to match. My glass, with more of the sediment in it, had an edge of burnt popcorn, still buttered, that was not offensive but just different than the other glass. I liked the wine’s pungent quality; it was toasty and tasty, slaty, long and kinky, and ultimately outstanding for me, despite Serena’s opinion that it was past its prime. I found it to be incredibly exotic. With time in the glass, it held well and separated itself from the 1906, which was next (95). The 1906 had a classic, chalky nose with some ‘spearmint,’ as Frank noticed. There was good vigor, although that vigor was on the slaty and minerally side. The 1906 also had the popcorn of the 1911 and great verve and backbone in the nose at first. The palate was softer with nice balance and nutty and dusty flavors. I also noticed citrus for the first time. Its balance and roundness were excellent, and Frank personally gave it bonus points for its age (93). The 1898 caused Frank to have a silent orgasm, I think. The nose was amazing; there was perfect balance of nut, chocolate, cedar, spearmint and earth. It was warm, inviting and phenomenal. The palate was pure and beautiful with lots of chocolate, sweet baby’s bottom, nut and this Krispy Kreme glaze, again in a chocolate way. The wine had a hedonistic, dessert-like quality to it, but it was far from dessert wine. Rich, velvety and long, this wine was fantastic, incredibly exotic and complex. It had a nose unlike any other, and even the ‘lesser’ bottle I liked. Thankfully, I had the better one. Along with the 1911, the 1898 won the award for ‘most exotic’ (96). The show was not over yet, though. The 1890 also had an exotic nose that was also briny. It was a spine, slate, popcorn, chalk and mineral quintafecta. There was sweet fruit underneath on the plum side. There was lots of earth, sporty sweat and vim to the wine, and the palate was round, rich, lush and balanced, long in a mature way, subtly and not overtly. The 1890 shared the spearmint of the 1906 and 1898, and it also had a Graves-like gravelly character to accompany its tenderness (93). Lastly and not leastly was the 1888, which had a (surprise) deep, complex nose. Again, I got the bottom of the bottle, being the youngest in attendance, I suppose, or just some luck of the draw. The nose had meat, chocolate, earth, leather, and snappy fresh green vegetables such as green pepper and cucumber. Chocolate and molasses rounded out the nose, and the excellent palate was gravelly with lots of coffee and mineral flavors, a touch of confectioners, and some gateau-like action. For 117 years old, it was pretty damn good. Torn between 94 and 95 points, I split it down the middle (94+). Serena shared with us that the 1888 was the last vintage made by the Dalfus family; ‘papa’ died and had left too many children behind to work it out, so they sold to the same family that owns it today, the Charmolues.

Bipin brought it all into perspective, as always, when he said that Montrose ‘fits the definition of a truly great wine. It needs time, but if you have patience, it develops into a complex, balanced wine. It has terroir and year after year is consistently great.’ Francois made one last comment about food and its influence on wine, strongly convinced that some wines, like the 1961 and 2003, benefited by having food with them while others, like the 1959, stood out on their own.

Evening session, post-nap

Hardly bright-eyed yet obviously bushy-tailed, I made my way back to Taillevent for the evening session after a deep, deep nap. A photographer was there taking lots of pictures, even after we sat down, prompting Ed to joke that ‘this guy must have been chasing Princess Di.’ I went along and replied, ‘the last time I had so many pictures taken of me was when I did that spread for Playgirl.’ It was a great issue, I might add.

We quickly got down to business with the 1986, which Clive had earlier mentioned as being a poorer vintage for Montrose, along with 1983, so it was an interesting way to start the evening. The 1986 had a pleasant nose, delicate by ’86 standards, but still long in the nose with its sultry and perfumed aromas of cassis, nut and light cedar. More nuttiness came out, and the wine became quite pleasantly rich without and heaviness of the tannins or alcohol invading. Cedar came out more and more with coaxing. The palate was nutty with additional flavors of black olives and had a dry, cedary finish, and good acidity. The fruit on the palate was dry, and it was a back-sided wine, typical of 1986, and Steven called it ‘slaty.’ James Suckling was very happy, reminiscing about 1986 being one of his first vintages in Bordeaux, calling the wine ‘typical 1986’ with its ‘tannins, clean fruit, mineral edge’ and predicted a ‘long life ahead.’ This wine had me torn between 92 and 93 points, back and forth on whether it was excellent or just very good, and due to its tannins and resulting potential, and after seeing how well it lasted in the glass, I decided it was excellent after all, despite the bah humbugs of Uncle Clive (93). The 1985 had a gorgeous nose: forward, fragrant and seductive. There was plump cassis, plum, chocolate, nut, caramel, cedar, minerals, pencil, bread and earth all dancing in unison in its nose. Steve called it ‘rich, especially compared to 1986,’ and the palate was just delicious with its round and rich flavors, with more of the earth and mineral shades exerting themselves. The saltiness of St. Estephe seemed to be taking charge, and there were more tannins and acidity than I expected on the palate; it was still less dry and tannic than the 1986 but just as good if not slightly better at this stage. Bipin, right on cue, went into his 1985 vs. 1986 spiel, which is how 1985 is superior to 1986 and that the two vintages are similar to 1953 vs. 1952. For this wine and this moment, the case could be made, although I thought the 1985 lost its focus more over time in the glass, but it was certainly the most enjoyable of the first flight at the moment. James called it ‘softer, rounder and more ready, but I like the more austere quality of 1986’ (93). I could very well be underrating the 1985, and if it didn’t lose a little focus in the glass, I would have rated it a point higher. The 1982 had a very spiny nose in a pungent and alcoholic way. Aromas of anise and indoor cleaner dominated with some plum, fig and raisin underneath. There was a lot of cedar in the nose as well. The palate was long, sturdy and spiny, possessing lots of vigor, although it was definitely lopsided towards its dusty back end. The wine started to get a little sappier in the glass and come out of its shell, and flavors of green olives emerged. I asked Steve about his preference between the 1986 and 1982, a question that will constantly be repeated for years to come, and he said that he loved the 1986 and found it typical, but that one had to know with whom one was drinking to have that wine, that it was a claret lover’s wine, and that the 1982 was ‘more exotic and universal.’ James found the 1982 ‘ever changing’ and admired its ‘strength and clarity,’ adding he could drink it ‘all night long.’ For me, it was a statistical dead heat, although the finish of the 1982 showed more potential, I will admit (93+). The 1975 was a pleasant surprise with its pungent nose and that anise and indoor cleaner combo again. It was slaty with lots of minerals and what I call indoor aromas, but it was mild beyond that and overall. You really had to inhale deeply to get something out of it, so it wouldn’t be a wine to bring over to Bill Clinton’s house for dinner. The pleasant surprise really occurred on the palate, which was quite good. Spicy and rusty, the 1975 was masochistically tasty with its baby got backside of cedar and minerals and taste (flash) of chocolate. The ’86, ’82and ’75 seemed very related, and I loved the ’75’s vigor and iron-fisted personality on the palate. The wine could be a long-term sleeper but is by no means a fruit bomb, not even in any wine lover’s deepest, darkest fantasy. James noted how ‘the seventies were a tough time, but this showed better than I expected. I enjoyed it’ (92). The 1970 has long reputed to be a great Montrose. Ed was liking it while Bipin found it ‘swampy.’ I was somewhere in the middle. Its aromas of chocolate, cigar, nut, olive and stewed prune were appealing, but it was a bit swampy, which is never a good thing. The palate was back-sided, as were all the wines in this flight (which was well assembled), and had cedar and slate on its long finish and solid t ‘n a. Its upfront flavors were a bit woodsy for me, and the 1970 was my least favorite of this flight. In seemed riper in the nose in that figgy, ‘I’m ready’ way, and while its structure was solid as a rock, its flavors were disappointing and a bit too gamy and woodsy for me (88).

We jumped back in time to the 1949, which had a musty nose and traces of old oak that once might have been cedar. There was some oily and chunky cassis fruit that was a bit masked by the previously mentioned qualities. The palate was pleasant with flavors of old wood, carob and leather. The wine was nice but unexciting, mature and possessing a shred of tannins (90). The 1948 had an exciting nose, especially since it was a 1948, a vintage of which I had recently tasted a disappointing Haut Brion. It was one of those things that make you go ‘mmmmm.’ There were great cedar, nut and caramel aromas balanced by smoky, plummy and vanilla ice creamy fruit. The palate was mature yet sturdy, long with nice grip. Its carob and cedar flavors were tasty in that mature way, and there were some teabag and leather flavors as well, but its overall personality was chalky. Wolfgang loved the wine’s opulence, and Josh said, ‘this is the real story (of the flight) given it is an off vintage.’ Ed did not feel ’48 was that ‘off’ a vintage. The palate was a step behind the nose, for sure, but the nose stayed fabulous, with what poker fans would call great ‘nuts’ (93). The 1947 was exotically rich, sweet and oily, possessing that elusive ‘yum’ quality. There were divine aromas of nutty chocolate and caramel, and the wine was brimming with red fruits, rose oil, raisinets, vanilla and almost coconut. Its nose was very exotic and seductive. The palate was rich and full of vigor and length, with a wave of red blending into auburn fruits followed by minerals, cedar and slate. It was chocolaty and flat out great. The nose stayed meaty and syrupy, the palate rich and thick (96). The 1937 was a bit off-putting in a corky way, definitely musty with a lot of band-aids, minerals and not much else. It was tough to find any fruit in the nose, and while the palate was better, it was still on the slaty side with those band-aids. There was nice balance, but the wine wasaustere nonetheless. Someone called it ‘dirty because it always was.’ That must be that ‘once a, always a’ concept (86). The 1934 showed more promise, with some sourdough to its fruit along with traces of caramel, dust, tang and old wood. Its very pleasant nose also had traces of cinnamon and brick. The palate was rich with nice, mature flavors and a hearty finish. The ’47 and ’34 were both ‘volatile’ wines in regard to their acidity, but I liked them regardless. I guess I’m just a volatile kind of guy. The nose got more chocolaty and meaty, and the wine stayed tasty with poised grit and length. The mineral-laden earth flavors had chocolate shavings on them, and the 1934 gave the 1947 a run for its money. This is another sleeper from 1934, a vintage one rarely sees. I have also had excellent bottles of Latour and Petrus (95).

There were a whopping eight wines in the last flight, beginning with a 1945 that was purposely served out of order. The 1945 had a great, classic nose with a wintry spice and traces of cedar, minerals and smoke. There was a shred of caramel, mocha and vanilla as well. You could tell this was a massive, youthful wine at first smell. There was fabulous breed to it with cedar flavors, structure and strength to its length. Classic, beautiful and very Cabernet with its flavors of cedar, leather and pencil, the 1945 was an outstanding wine, one that I found on the dry side, but hardly starting to dry out as Serena questioned (96). The 1929 was another wine with a fabulous nose, this one with loads of cherry fruit and accompanying brick, smoke and vanilla. It was heady, rich and lush. There were some secondary aromas of tapenade, cedar and earth, but the fruit was primary. The palate was round, rich and lush with an incredible mouthfeel; for 75 years old, it was amazingly lush. Its bright bing cherry flavors were joined by vanilla, cedar and a cream soda edge. Soft, lush, easy and round, its vim held quite well (96). As good as the first two wines were in this flight (did someone plan this?), the 1928 left no doubt as to what vintage was wine of not only this session, but also the entire day. ‘Wow’ starts my note, ‘this nose is bordering on liquid crack.’ That is a presumption, I would like to add. I hope you get the idea. There was a divine chocolate, caramel and bakery character to the nose. So nutty, so thick, the 1928 also had a spine unlike any other wine on this day. The power of the ’28 was staggering, shattering every wine of both sessions. Young and intense, nutty and tasty, long and viscous, the 1928 was the most beautiful girl in the most beautiful dress winning an award for best something. It got another ‘wow’ from me and was certainly wine of the day (98). You know that the difference between 96 and 98 is a big deal, right? It’s all about exponentials, ladies and gentlemen, in case you forgot. Just when I thought the evening couldn’t get any better, it almost did. Almost. The 1926 had seductive aromatics too, more playful and floral than the ’28, more delicate yet still brimming with red fruits, vanilla bean, cloud smoke, caramel and rubber tire, adding up to an absolutely delicious nose. There were lots of caramel flavors, great structure and a long, rich finish. This was the first wine from 1926 where I saw its light. There was a caramelized sex appeal without being maderized, and great leather and cedar. Gerald Asher noted its ‘elegance and substance it threw me back in my chair.’ It exceeded the 1945 and 1929, and everything except the 1928 (97). The 1921 was ‘an exception for the Left Bank in 1921,’ Bipin told us, along with Mouton, meaning that it was a success. The wine was incredibly oaky in the nose, less so on the palate but still oaky, nonetheless. The palate was rich and long with lots of alcohol, but overall it was a bizarre wine. Coffee, caraway, caramel and almost port flavors were minor compared to the oak. There was indubitably great texture and structure, and while I had to respect it, the 1921 was not my style, at least this bottle (90+). We were back with the program with the 1920. There were more classic cedar, green bean and ashtray aromas, with the ashtray having a marijuana edge, an edge that started to morph into older oak. The nose had presence, and the palate was deliciously firm and chocolaty dusty, spicy, earthy, rusty and tasty. It wasn’t the same for everyone, as Gerald called it a ‘letdown,’ but I enjoyed its mineral, rust, mocha and wax flavors. The only issue I had with the ’20 was the fact it started to lean on the oaky side of things both aromatically and on the palate with a little time, but it was a lean and nothing more (94). Ed wondered aloud who was as good and consistent in the 1920s, to which Bipin replied, Latour and Calon Segur. I think they were both talking ‘Leftist,’ so to speak. The 1900 was also a bit oaky at first, though baking soda fresh. An exotic, banana flamb eacute; sundae quality mercifully took over the stage from the oak after we had some food, pigeon to be precise. Carob, forest floor and cream became its signature aromas, and the palate was still fresh, round and pleasant. Its flavors were on the citric side, old and pretty, and the 1900 was still walking and talking well yet was not one of the superior wines of the day, although Bipin got a lot more out of it than I (92). We came to the last wine of this historic wine experience, the 1893, and it delivered a grand finale. The nose was decadently rich, a bit horsy on the animal side but exquisite nonetheless and not overbearing. Additional, aged aromas of earth, dried beef, leather and spice complemented its rich, lush, tasty and round palate, which also had flavors of beef to go along with forest floor, old book and caramel. Beefy, rich and lush, all deserving a ‘so’ in front of them, the 1893 caused Gerald to note how we were ‘tasting sunshine that’s a century old. Extraordinary, seamless, affectionate ‘ (97).

Gerald had some of the most interesting and astute comments of the day when asked to speak about this flight, including ‘if you had to define these wines by one thing, it would be structure- the elegance and simplicity of line that goes through the wines, the acidity more than the tannins.’ He also reminded us that we weren’t tasting wines but rather bottles when it came to the older ones, and that judgments were never truly definitive as a result. He reminisced over the endless debates between back to back vintages such as ’28 vs. ’29 (‘same difference after all these years’), or ’52 vs. ’53 (his ‘first’ discussion of the sorts), or ’85 vs. ’86. He quickly warned that ‘analysis should be left for technicians,’ however, and that far too often we have a ‘tendency to taste a wine for what it isn’t rather than what it is, but we should always enjoy it for what it is.’ Some Angry Men jumped to mind! Wine should be ‘something to drink and have something to say, should reflect the vintage’ and be consistent with the style of the producer. He reiterated that all of these wines had a character specific to Montrose. A great wine should remind us of where, who and when, and the combination thereof proved to be unforgettable on this day.

Bipin, to whom we were all indebted for organizing such an event, summed the day up perfectly when he asked, ‘how many Chateaux could stack up to these if you had the same vintages?’ Not many, indeed. Here is to Chateau Montrose.

So that might be enough to make the trip worthwhile, you say? Technically, the official part of Bipin’s trip began Tuesday night at Carre des Feuillantes, but what was one to do Tuesday afternoon? We had to eat, right? Well, Bipin and some of his early bird disciples, myself included, gathered at Hiramatsu, a restaurant that takes its name after its
Asian chef, but it is not an Asian restaurant. It was a gourmet experience all the way and a personal favorite of Bipin’s, and the wines were something to write home about as well. Arriving a few minutes late after a morning meeting, I quickly intervened; there was a non-vintage Champagne that was just ordered, and I suggested we replace it with a 1979 Louis Roederer Vintage Champagne. After all, it was only 200 Euros or so on the list, so for the extra ten or so Euros a person it would end up being, it seemed like a no-brainer. The group quickly agreed. While looking over the rest of the wine list, I was thinking about how much great wine is tucked away in restaurants in Paris, or France for that matter. Sometimes, it seems like none of it ever left! 1993 Rousseau Chambertin was about half of its market value on the list, as were many others, although some wines were not cheap. Back to our regular programming – Louis Roederer is the producer that makes Cristal in case you forgot, and some of his regular vintage champagnes, particularly those of the pre-Cristal era, have been some of the greatest bubblies I have ever had 1928 and 1959 included. The 1979 was still very fresh. Bipin found it ‘too meaty and not my style,’ but it was oh so mine. The nose was rich and complex, honeyed and bready with some citrus and orange edges and a pinch of caramel to its honeyed sweetness. It was quite full-bodied and long with an extensive finish full of attack and graceful length. With lots of exquisite acidity and verve, it became more stunning with each sip. Flavors of soda, freshwater, geyser, citrus and bread were impeccably balanced on its oily palate with liqueur-like edges. This champagne was bordering on outstanding, right on the cusp of elite status, but I think I need to revisit it in ten years first before I give that up to it (94+). We skipped the whites for now and eased into a 2000 Roumier Bonnes Mares. The 2000s are a fashionable vintage to drink young, so I was quitecurious to try a wine from one of the best producers in all of Burgundy, although I couldn’t help but notice the 2002 on the list at about the same price. ‘The 2000 is more ready,’ explained Dr. Desai, which offered a glimpse into his mind and thought process. The nose had sexy, cherry fruit that was incredibly fragrant and forward. Besides loads of cherry, rosy and stemmy fruit, the 2000 had additional, complex aromas of pure earth, spice, forest, mint and chocolate. Round, smooth and satiny, its palate had a nice kick of acidity on the finish, but the nose was ahead of the palate by a bit at this stage. Its palate had a leathery backbone that was firm yet understated, but its fruit had this just-beginning-to-bud quality with some benevolent green and muted fruit flavors. The 2000 had a 95-point nose, but the palate still needed to grow. The backside had ‘oomph’ and hence promise, but the palate was a bit light texturally up front (92+). Three wines from Michel Gaunoux were next, the father of Francois. ‘He died in 1978, and the wines were never as good,’ said Chris, and after having the trio of wines I am about to describe, I can assure you that pre-1978 Gaunoux is something of which to get a hold. The 1947 M. Gaunoux Pommard ‘Grands Epenots’ had a Tasteduvin label, which means it was bottled, or bought specifically for that historic and still active group. Bipin quickly called it ‘terrific,’ citing 1947 as a ‘very hot vintage, but not great like 1949.’ The nose was absolutely fabulous; incredibly rich, fleshy, meaty and beefy. The alcohol underneath all that was penetrating like a needle drawing blood, precise and exacting. There was a touch of old book but overall the wine’s aromas were sweet and hedonistic. Flavors of beef, stems, molasses and a pinch of worcestershire made this wine quite tasty, and its volatile acidity (there I go again) gave it spine with some whips and chains to go with it. Chris called it ‘perfect the balance, the sweetness and the length.’ Licorice,cherry and honeyed cough drops were adjectives coming from the group. There were also old book flavors, lots of wood spices and decadent coffee and mocha flavors that developed, while Frank noticed its ‘toast and burnt sugar.’ This wine almost exceeded being outstanding, but it was Pommard, after all (96). There were two more Pommards, beginning with a 1926 M. Gaunoux Pommard ‘Rugiens,’ which was drier and earthier than the ’47, still with some red fruits but not nearly the sweetness of the 1947. The red fruits in its nose were beautiful nonetheless red currants, cranberry and raspberry to be exact, and the nose was wound in a pinchy, dusty way. More citric vigor was noticeable here. On the palate, there were flavors of old book, or ‘sauvage/wet leaf’ to which Chris likened it, that gently rolled around one’s tongue in a soft, smooth and mature way. The middle palate was softer but not absent, and there was nice leather on the finish (93). The 1927 M. Gaunoux Pommard ‘Rugiens’ had more ripeness and oil to its nose with pungent aromas of brown sugar, alcohol and fading rose. The palate was rich and sweet, again not as rich as the ’47, but still excellent with its dry, pinchy tannins and drier, waxier, book-ier flavors. Mushroom came out in the nose, which expanded quite well, and the palate fattened accordingly, more so than the 1926 (94). We ended the afternoon with a white, another one of my suggestions, the 1973 Trimbach Riesling ‘Clos Ste. Hune,’ another wine that was very underpriced. They also had the 1976, a better vintage Bipin assured me, but I had had the 1976 once before, so the new experience of the 1973 appealed to me. The Trimbach had a fabulous nose, one with which only a white Burgundy could compete (or visa-versa, I suppose). Peachy, petroly, penetrating fruit was patiently pacing precariously ok, sorry about the alliteration, but it was still an accurate description! There was a pinch of mint blending into its mineral and slate qualities, and bright, yellow, citrus jelly candy as well. The petrol was still in charge of this nose, though, make no mistake about it. The palate had excellent balance and length with a nice, long, grainy and sandy finish. There were flavors of lemon, wax, petrol and dried peaches and apricots, and someone noted the ‘purity of fruit,’ while the sommelier chipped in, admiring the fact that it was ‘straight.’ With medium vim and a straight-laced personality, this Clos Ste. Hune was a nice way to end the afternoon (93).

Dinner was at 8pm, so there was no time to dilly-dally about town. Carre des Feuillantes was the place, and it was nice to see Bernard Hervet of Bouchard again, who joined us on this night. This was officially the beginning of the week, although it felt like I was there for one week already! The NV Pol Roger Brut was delicious, a great non-vintage champagne with a lot of sweet fruit and flavor to go with its lovely delicacy and balance. The same cannot be said for all non-vintage bubblies (90). We sat down to a couple of Haut Brions, Laville Haut Brions, that is. The 1998 Laville Haut Brion was served a bit on the cold side, but beneath the icy mute on it were some classic LHB aromas of glue, straw, honey, dried yellow and white fruits, candle wax, honeycomb, nuts and orange peel soaked in white chocolate. The palate was rich and lightly toasty with flavors of citrus, honeydew and cantaloupe (‘melon that’s it!’ Elaine agreed), and none of the overoak or glue that sometimes plagues young, dry, white Bordeaux. With time in the glass, the wine became fresher and more vigorous once it warmed up, its superior minerality becoming more and more self-evident. Teona found it ‘like a good stinky cheese,’ probably picking up on what I call glue. There were lots of white floral edges in this tasty, pure, delicate and spicy (in a Graves way) white. The acidity got stronger and stronger, bordering on searing in the belly (94+). The 1989 Laville Haut Brion had a nose that caused Frank to comment, ‘there’s a nose that I like,’ referring to the more mature style of the 1989. An extra decade does a Laville well, I always say, and the 1989 had a fatter, wider nose with more nutty sex appeal. There were also wax, alcohol, honey, musk and caramel aromas. The palate was richer and meatier with more sweet caramel flavors and an earthier finish. Fleshier and oilier with loads of caramel, the 1989 stood out over its younger sibling (95+). Bipin told us he chose the 1998 since he had never had the wine before, adding that it was very hard to get upon release. Adding that there was a very low production made, Bipin found them both ‘spectacular.’ Having had some spectacular, very old LHBs, I can say that this is one wine that benefits from a lot of age, hence my ‘plus’ on each score. I always say that Bordeaux gets truly great after thirty years of age, and this is one white Bordeaux to which that saying applies. Next up was a flight of Chevalier Montrachets from Bouchard directly, all served out of magnum. The first was the recently released 2003 Bouchard Pere et Fils Chevalier Montrachet ‘La Cabotte.’ Bernard later explained to us that ‘La Cabotte’ is the plot of land between the upper part of Montrachet and the lower part of Chevalier, adding that they decided to bottle it under a separate designation than their regular Chevalier as they felt it was closer in style to a Montrachet. The 2003 had a clean and smoky nose with sweet butter and tropical Chardonnay fruit, so sweet I would have guessed Kistler if it was served to me blind. That must be that ‘Helen Turley’ factor in regard to the 2003s to which Clive had earlier referred. There was nice earth and wet rock there behind its sweet fruit, and the palate was very chewy and nutty with taffy-like flavors and an oily texture. Sweet, nutty, and buttery, the 2003 had a caramel center if you kept chewing away. Someone commented that the wine ‘won’t last that long.’ The acidity was not that prominent at this stage, and this tropical wine was a bit sweet for me but still respectable. (91). The 2002 Bouchard Pere et Fils Chevalier Montrachet ‘La Cabotte’ was a whole new ballgame. The 2002 was much more wound with divine minerals rippling through the nose. Smoky and lightly toasty, the wine had pineapply fruit slowly emerge with pinches of anise and rainwater. Elaine called out ‘apples’ clearly and correctly. It was my kind of nose, more about the earth than the fruit. The palate was flat out fantastic, long with great acidity and a spicy, spiny finish. The wine was rich and loaded with lots of yellow fruit bullets, dried yet somehow ripe. Streaky in a good and intense way, the 2002 stayed spectacular on the palate, and the acidity kept exerting itself like a boa constrictor trying to suffocate my nostrils. I saw the Montrachet here (96). The 1992 Bouchard Pere et Fils Chevalier Montrachet ‘La Cabotte’ was actually the first vintage that Bouchard ever bottled, all one barrel of it, and all in magnums, magnums that have never been sold or offered. One barrel means only 150 magnums were made. Now Bernard would be the first to admit that the Renaissance of Bouchard Pere et Fils did not begin until the mid-nineties, and this 1992 showed that to be an accurate statement. The 1992 had a dirty nose, and Frank saw what I was saying but still liked it. There was this rotten edge, some pungent alley action that dominated, and behind that were additional aromas of smoke on the water, dirty earth and stewed, overripe corn. The palate was better with some nice flesh, richness and sweet, creamed corn flavors, but also with more of that dirty earth, this time with some wax. The palate could have offended many, though, and it was not a wine that was pretty by any means. Its texture was its best quality, and although it mellowed out in the glass, and Elaine found it to improve, it was an auspicious beginning to what has to be now considered one of Burgundy’s elite white wines (88). It was on to the reds and a flight of Moutons. The 1988 Mouton had a better nose than I expected, classic in style with its cedar, walnut, cassis, minerals and earth. Frank said that it was still ‘austere. So dry, it gives me goose bumps.’ He was a little ahead of me already! The nose was stereotypically perfect, almost, and slate and plum rounded it out but cedar was the dominating factor, a profile which Elaine could not get past. Unfortunately, the palate lived up to my expectations of ‘Mouton-lite.’ It just lacked the weight and texture in the mouth. There was cedar, pencil shavings, earth and not much more. Who gave this 100 points again? (88). The 1986 Mouton, one of my all-time favorite Moutons, was unfortunately an off bottle, at least the one we had (DQ). We had the 1985 Mouton out of magnum, and it was very fresh and vigorous, more so than the average ’85 I thought, which had to be the magnum factor. The nose was decadently nutty with toast, caramel drops, underlying cassis, coffee, minerals, earth and chocolate croissant aromas. The body was excellent, medium-bodied, spicy with great cedar flavors on its chalky finish. There was some richness to the palate and nice grit, but the wine lacked some weight in the middle, its only noticeable flaw. Bipin assumed his usual position about ’85 vs. ’86, saying ‘The 1985 has been ready to drink for twenty years and is still drinking beautifully. You decide what is the better wine.’ Despite Bipin using the force and one of his Jedi wine tricks, this is one ’85 vs. ’86 debate that he cannot win with me. On this night, however, he was correct, but that is because the ’86 was off, although only my table seemed to notice (93). The 1985 was basically the only enjoyable wine in the flight. I mean, I could probably enjoy the 1988 Mouton on its own, but in the context of other great wines, it was difficult. Now I had the pleasure of sitting with Frank and Jim, aka the Good Lawyer and the Good Doctor, and Mary and Elaine, their wives and two experienced tasters in their own right. Jim and Frank are both avid connoisseurs who are not exactly tiny guys. So when the next wine came out corked, there was mutiny on the bounty. It was too bad, as it was a 2000 Chave ‘Cuvee Cathelin.’ Now I have had that wine three times (two bottles on one occasion actually), and two of the bottles were corked. This is one of those things that make me go ‘hmmmm.’ We quickly got a list and honedin on a 1993 Meo Camuzet Richebourg before someone had a seizure. A debate ensued as to who would try and break that ice with Bipin, as none of us would dare do it without speaking to him first. Bipin is a man of procedure and etiquette if he is nothing else. Of course, I was elected, and I crept over to Bipin’s table, hovering for a couple minutes trying to jump in, but he was deeply entrenched in a conversation with Bernard, so I could not work my way in. I slithered away to the bathroom for a break, only to hear cries of ‘wuss’ from Jim and Frank, and by the time I got back the dessert wine was being served, and the moment was lost. Oh well. We somehow managed. The dessert wine, by the way, was a 2002 Francois Laplace ‘Maydie’ de Tannat. It was a red dessert wine from the South, served slightly chilled and Amarone-like in style yet Banyuls-like in flavor. Made from the Tannat grape, it was port ‘Parisian style,’ with less alcohol yet stil rich, lush and lingering (92). It was time to stick a fork in me, but if someone did, I might have exploded.

I was losing track of time, but it was only Wednesday, which meant it was time to hop a train to Lille and then a van to Belgium to experience the 3-star cuisine of Hof van Cleve. After experiencing a morning in the life of a Parisian and taking the metro (subway) to the ‘gare’ (train station), and using my limited yet effective French, we made the train with about 15 minutes to spare. The van that met us in Lille was one seat short, so I volunteered to sit in the back on the floor, important cargo that I was. By the time we got to Hof van Cleve in the middle of the Belgian countryside, everyone was good and hungry. We started with a NV Gosset ‘Grande Reserve’ Champagne, which had a bready and full-bodied nose and a taut, fresh palate that was finish-centric. It was decent but a bit taut and citrusy, though bright and fresh as it should be (88). A flight of Clos Ste. Hunes was first, beginning with the 1995 Trimbach Riesling ‘Clos Ste. Hune.’ The 1995 had a classic, beautiful CSH nose, very youthful and brimming with minerals and peachy fruit. There were secondary aromas of wood, mild alcohol and what Jim called ‘honeybees.’ Yellow and white flowers were also there along with rainwater, white lilac and a pungent fruit I couldn’t quite peg until Jim helped me out again with ‘grapefruit’ bingo! There was impeccable balance amongst all its aromas, but the wine was a bit shy on the palate. There were a lot of muted fruits and a drop of petrol but other than that it was shut down or was it just not a great Clos Ste. Hune? It was still very good, but there were more skin and rind flavors than fruit. Jim noted how the ‘flavors are gone in fifteen seconds.’ The nose kept improving over time and became quite precise with its anise and mineral components, but the palate never followed suit. It might improve, but it wasn’t obvious to me that it would (91). The 1992 Trimbach Riesling ‘Clos Ste. Hune’ had an intense, more pungent nose, pinchy with its spice and wood, moremature with pruny white and yellow fruits. A lot of petrol, minerals and ‘golden raisins,’ as Russ picked up, rounded out the nose. The wine was showing a lot of flesh on its palate and great balance between its fruit, mineral and petrol flavors. It seemed to be just entering its plateau of maturity. There was not a boatload of acidity, so I do not think it will improve considerably, but it was pretty darn good. Someone noticed that ‘it gets better the weight on the tongue it expands in the mouth.’ Russ admired its ‘nice sweetness to the palate,’ and there were nice apricot and lemon drop flavors that emerged on its finish (93). The 1986 Trimbach Riesling ‘Clos Ste. Hune’ had a great nose. There was this dollop of what I would call pungent, mature Riesling the dried grapefruit along with yellow citrus fruits, a healthy and appealing streak of wood, minerals and tang. The pinch in the nose was super sexy, and the palate was big with youthful acidity, although the flavor profile was on the sour side. Elaine said, ‘it tastes like grapefruit that was picked from the tree too soon,’ and she was also bothered by its ‘stemminess’ as its wood flavors were more pronounced. The wine was still quite layered with the longest acidity of the three by far. It needed a lot more time and started to come around more and more; we ran out of time before it did in the end, and Frans wisely noted that ‘in twenty years, the 1986 will still be here.’ It definitely showed the youngest and had the most potential of the flight (94+). Bipin summed up the flight calling the 1995 ’round, rich and potentially great,’ the 1992 ‘lighter in style,’ and the 1986 ‘extraordinary.’ A pair of Ramonets were next, beginning with the 1989 Ramonet Chassagne Montrachet ‘Les Ruchottes,’ one of my pet wines not specifically the 1989 but the Les Ruchottes in general. The nose had amazing nutty and caramel qualities, quite exotic with its white chocolate, mint and as Russ noted, ‘sausage.’ He was right! Fragrant, forward and honeyed, the 1989 had a kinky edge to its spice, so kinky it turned me on. Let’s not forget the butter and the corn yum. The palate was full of vigor and alcohol with wood, corn and butter flavors as well, a touch rugged but in a good way. Frank called it the ‘best ever’ for Les Ruchottes, and the nose ended up smothered in butter and all about the caramel, while the palate went in a dusty, gritty mineral direction. I had gotten a substitution for my fish dish, and it was beef cheeks. The Ruchottes actually went well with the beef, which brought out its acidity quite nicely. That should give you an idea about how much was going on in this ‘premier cru’ white (96). The 1990 Ramonet Bienvenues Batard Montrachet was a complete contrast in style. Anisy, tight and waxy, its nose was very shy and despite some bread in there, there was a bit of the ‘cleaner syndrome’ here, where a wine takes on aromas similar to a recently waxed floor or polished substance. It was shy but indubitably deep with its cascades of minerals that seemed laced with diamonds. The palate was even shier at first, incredibly youthful, long, lingering and regal yet oh so young. It slowly kept emerging, and someone noted how ‘its finesse and class are superb.’ The acidity was like ‘whoa,’ like a knife in the gut slowly inserted, if that could be a good thing. Some nut and popcorn slowly came out in the glass, as did some sweet corn that was the first sign of any fruit. Elaine noted some ‘white pepper’ (man, she’s good). This was a wine that might have needed a week to open up, and if the fruit ever expands, it could become incredible (95+). Bipin found the 1989 ‘so intensely rich, balanced and extraordinary’ while the 1990 was ‘very, very good but too lean with high acidity and lightness of fruit’ at this stage. We moved on to the reds and two wines from St. Emilion’s self-proclaimed greatest producer, Chateau Figeac. The 1966 Figeac had a sexy nose of red wintry fruits,green olives, milk chocolate and musk. Incredibly fresh and vibrant, its red fruits blossomed into jammier raspberry and strawberry aromas. Its stem and olive aromas balanced out the nose like the scales of justice, and some plum, cassis and Cabernet fruit aromas slipped in there. The palate was very dry, however, and there were lots of alcohol and browned flavors. The wine was overly dry and on the bitter side, still pretty and holding onto whatever youth it may have left by a thread (90). The 1964 Figeac was distinctively different from the 1966, deeper and more chocolaty, nutty and syrupy in character. There were lots of plum, nut and vanilla going around the nose, which was more Pomerol than St. Emilion, with which Chris was quick to agree. The palate was rich, round, balanced and smooth with light dust and grit on its finish. Flavors of black olives and black ‘n white ice cream graced the palate, and the acidity held well in this excellent L’Evangile, I mean Figeac (93). There were three more wines to go, and two of them were Musignys each over 75 years old. The 1915 Guichard-Potheret Musigny had a vibrant nose for the age of ninety, woodsy with its mushroom and forest and meaty with its worcestershire. There was an Madeira-like edge to the wine, which was not maderized but definitely showing some signs of its age. Flavors of worcestershire, dry brown sugar, band-aid and tomato were all present along with some wintry edges to its finish. Nice but not great, it was aliiiiiiiive, I joked. The brown sugar and earth components became more and more pronounced, but for what it was, and if you have a taste for very old wine, it was very good (91). The 1928 Chevillot Musigny was outstanding. Its nose was sweet, seductive and lightly pungent with divine, musky, sexy fruit. There were aromas of red and brown fruits, musk, candied cherry, strawberry ice cream and a pinch of cat’s pee. The palate had excellent vigor dusty, round and long, it was still smooth. There was a ‘just-right’ woodsy kiss. This was big and bodacious Pinot Noir, lush and sweet, reminding me of 1959. Jim noted while after thirty minutes the 1915 was getting tired, the 1928 was not.

For whatever reason, the notes from my trips to LA these past 3-4 months have been buried in my files, so I decided to finally catch up on them as I headed out this past Columbus Day weekend to inspect a couple important cellars.

Chapter I – The Colonel’s Nuts, Uncle Matty, Mount Eden and Tequila

We start this recap back in July, the 21st to be exact, when the Colonel Yarom Limor had assembled some of his faithful ‘Nuts’ at the Four Seasons Hotel for an evening of fine wine, food and cigars. Everyone brought a bottle of their choice, and Yarom has a knack for keeping the quality up while not being anal about it, and the result is always a fun, relaxed and enjoyable evening. However, if you end up at the same poker table as him, he will take you out!

We started with the 1989 Laville Haut Brion, a wine I recently wrote up from my trip to Paris. This bottle had a lot of toasty oak in that white Bordeaux way, still showing youthfully with aromas of wheat, glue and a drop of honey. With some air, marmalade joined the party, and the palate produced complex flavors of toast, wheat, cracked rye, sunflower oil and white earth. Round and rich, this wine was still on the rise. Ron picked up on its ‘butterscotch’ qualities, and once he said it, I was stunned how I missed it in the first place! The acidity was long and squeaky in what will probably prove to be an outstanding LHB. I think I preferred the bottle that I had in Paris slightly, but then again, doesn’t everything taste better in Paris (94+)? We switched up to white Burgundy with an unexciting 1998 J-M. Boillot Corton Charlemagne. Jeff immediately called it ‘kind of flabby,’ and it was mature in the nose and older than its age should be. It had a waxy, tropical edge and its fruit was stewed, and its flavors were more wax and morning mouth. Yeasty and tired, there was a dose of sweetness on its palate, but either this bottle was affected or just not very good (82?). With the foie gras course we had a 1967 Coutet, which someone told me was once part of Yquem but split off in the ’20s or ’30s. I didn’t fact check, though. This almost forty year-old Sauternes had a beautiful, amber color with complex aromas of orange peel, honey-roasted and toasted nuts (though a touch drier) and whiffs of wax, porcelain and spice. There was a nice minerality here, and the palate was beautiful, drier than I expected and not over-the-top sweet, which was a good thing since it was early in the meal. Flavors of dry caramel, fig marmalade, wax and nuts were quite harmonious in this very nice, mature and plateauing Coutet (93). As a side note, it amazes me how inexpensive older Sauternes (other than Yquem) is in the marketplace.

We segwayed to the reds with a 1969 Bouchard Pere et Fils Vosne Romanee ‘Aux Reignots, Chateau de Vosne Romanee.’ Someone quickly remarked that ‘not a lot was going on,’ but others liked its nose. Steve liked the ‘barnyard’ quality, and I found a lot of classic 1969 rust, some fig, and a lot of shining minerals, spice and alcohol. The wine almost had a cedary edge and was very good in a mature way. The palate was soft, still rusty, with a touch of citric tension. Steve found it ‘extraordinary,’ and it was very nice, its flavors lightly browned and still hanging on after all these years (90). The fourth wine was the favorite of an unexpected guest, the west coast Krug representative who joined the party merely because she was sitting at a table next to us and was obviously curious as to what was happening. Since she was attractive, some of the boys reciprocated that curiosity and before you knew it, she was in there. The wine was the 1991 Leroy Vosne Romanee ‘Les Beauxmonts.’ The nose was deep and brooding, classic Leroy with darker fruits, iron and cedar. There was plum, cassis and blackberry fruit. Very rich on the palate, the 1991 had more sweet raspberry flavors, a thick texture and lots of power on its finish. There was a wave of alcohol and tannins that was barely reined in, and long, lingering acidity (95). A 1993 Roty Charmes Chambertin ‘Tres Vieilles Vignes’ was next courtesy of Jeff of the Burgdoms, another LA tasting group that I hope to be able to join for an evening sooner or later. The Roty had the charm of 1993 with its tight and spiny personality, but there was also a pungent, beefier style to it with influences of oak. The nose was ashy with lots of vitamins as well. The texture was incredibly rich and meaty for a ’93, more so than one normally tastes in a wine from that vintage. The wine was certainly toeing the line with its use of oak and finished with long, earthy flavors. If its oak ever completely integrates, my score could improve, as the Roty was certainly the sturdiest wine of the evening, although it kept going in and out of a small shell relative to the open 1991 (94+).

The 1983 Palmer bid a gracious farewell to the Burgundies with its aromas of plum, chocolate, cassis, cedar and minerals. It was classic all the way around in both its fruit and pinch, and its minerals blended into rocks, waterfalls and heat, that sun on the rocks thing I sometimes find in a wine. Smooth, satiny and silky on the palate with a vim-ful finish, the Palmer was graceful and gorgeous in that classic claret way. Boysenberry emerged on its nose, and there was lots of spice, earth and tension to its finish. There is no doubt in MY mind that it will be better in ten years and keep improving (94+).

That was it for Bordeaux, and we moved into the wonderful world of Syrah, beginning with a 1977 Penfolds Grange. Perhaps lost in the shadow of 1976, this was a stunning Grange. Ron quickly told me how ’78 and ’72 are also sleeper Granges of the Seventies. I was quite impressed by its nose. Aromas of primary cola, black cherry and classic Grange menthol/eucalyptus with secondary bacon and earth, the ’77 had a gorgeous sweetness to it and a confectioners’ edge in its nose. There were great, beefy flavors on its oily, balanced, thick and long palate with lots of alcohol, spice and mint blending in. The wine was still powerful and youthful at age 28 and deserves to be mentioned alongside the ’76 and ’71 (96). The 1985 Guigal Cote Rotie ‘La Turque’ was a nice follow up to the Grange, but the Grange was in such a good spot that it stole the show from the La Turque’s usual limelight. Its nose was beefy and bacony with lots of that classic Cote Rotie, gamy, waify whiff. There was menthol and very deep black and purple fruits. Its palate was rich and bacony with more gamy fruit, and the LT was very smooth on the palate, more so than I remembered at first, although it did gain in the glass and come out a bit more to reveal good, but not mammoth, grip (95). There was one more wine to our evening, a 1991 Chapoutier Cote Rotie ‘La Mordoree.’ The nose was a bit horsy and barnyardy, softer, kinder and gentler. Musk, plum and bacon aromas gently caressed the nose. The palate was soft, smooth, round and easy and probably at its peak, but it might be there for a while. It was greener than the LT, too (92).

The next night was Uncle Matty’s second annual Pax barrel sample tasting, which he hosted in his new digs in the hills of Pacific Palisades. Pax was there, of course, along with Juan of Realm and the talented, young winemaker Mike Herby. There were even a few shall-remain-nameless celebrities mixed in the crowd. It was a party as opposed to the usual sit-down tasting where one can take serious notes, so no official notes were taken. In addition to all the 2003 Pax barrel samples. I can give a list of wines that were opened, including bottles of 2001 Schrader, 2002 Realm and 1990 Rayas; magnums of 2001 Schrader MX, 2001 Shafer Hillside ‘Sunspot,’ 1991 94 Dominus, 1975, 78 84 Heitz ‘Martha’s,’ 1970 Mayacamas, 1992 97 Montelena, 1998 SQN ‘E-Raised’ Syrah, 1990 La Tache, and 1947 Lafleur (a close friend of mine was thirsty); and double magnums of 1990 La Mission and 1982 L’Evangile. I am sure there were more too. I must say it was a lot of wine for the twelve of us – just kidding. I can say that I do not even remember the 1947 Lafleur, or the 1990 Rayas that was apparently my idea and treat from Matt’s cellar, nor the fact that my glass of it ended up all over my pants. I do remember the 1990 La Tache, magnificent and coiled out of magnum, and the two delicious double mags that followed as my last official memories of the evening. Oh what a night, and oh what a hangover…

The next night I had to do it all over again, but in the much more formal setting of Spago with Dr Bipin Desai and about 40 devoted disciples. The evening was a special retrospective of Mount Eden Estate Chardonnay, whose owner, Jeffrey Paterson, was in attendance. Not having much experience with Mount Eden myself, I was quite intrigued by this amazing retrospective, especially since everything was served out of magnum.
Many feel that Mount Eden has been California’s best and most consistent Chardonnay over the past thirty years and hence California’s all-time greatest historically; however, the wines form Mount Eden remain under the radar of the American public in this age of Marcassin. To give a little more perspective, J.P. Miller, of the Peninsula Wine Tasting Group in California, sent me an email about Mount Eden after the 1976 Paris Tasting Recreation that read:

quot;For many years — and I constantly test this — I find Jeffrey Patterson’s Mount Eden Chardonnay to be among the best Cal Chards. It’s not as quot;big quot; (over-ripe, over-oaked, over-extracted) as Marcassin or Peter Michael or Kistler, etc. but it certainly is more nuanced and, frankly, more bottom-line enjoyable. Part of my preference for it is that it does resemble (to a greater extent) white Burgundy at its best — maybe not the best Grand Cru (although sometimes it’s close), but certainly top-level Premier Cru. What I do not understand is how little mention it gets from critics — how infrequently it shows up in quot;best of quot; lists. What is your view of why wine writers/ critics seem to pay so little attention? Does it have something to do with Jeffrey’s lack of PR for his wine compared to the other wineries? Is it that critics quot;cater quot; to American tastes, knowing that most American wine drinkers prefer the styles of Chardonnay mentioned above, and thus realizing that if they did tout Mount Eden that their readers would, upon not quot;getting it, quot; turn away from their opinions? quot;

Some interesting questions, indeed. Let’s see what the wines had to say.

In 1971, the old Martin Ray property was renamed Mount Eden, and its life began. The average goal is to make 80-90 barrels a year out of 20 acres; Jeffrey has made up to 160 barrels in a year, even though he ‘didn’t want to, but did.’ The average age of the vines in the first flight was twenty, and we began with the 2003. The 2003 was very forward and sexy in that Cali way but still had some Old World, or classic sensibilities. The nose had lots of banana with hints of citrus and caramel. Very aromatic, the wine had a smooth and frisky palate which finished with some alcohol, mineral and acid. Buttery and a touch young, it had flavors of banana and minerals. It was very good, but as we were to soon find out, it was the one wine that did not belong in this flight and was atypical (91). The 2002 unfortunately, was corked, so it didn’t belong either, actually! With 28 wines on tap, I moved on (DQ). The 2001 was a bit of a ‘problem child’ according to Jeffrey, but I liked it. Its nose was much more reserved and more back side than front. Banana was again there (signature?), but there was also cracked wheat and light traces of cinnamon. The palate was very buttery with good spice and spine and very long acidity. The finish was tasty with a dash of yeast and honeyed fruit flavors (94). The 2000 had a nose full of slate, minerals and a drop of benevolent soap shavings (not the glass). Butter and clove filled out the nose, and nuts were all over the palate. The 2000 seemed more advanced than the year that separated it from the 2000, but it was still very good with its waxy flavors and touch of heat to its finish (91). In 1999, they harvested in October as opposed to the usual September. The nose was fresh and full of lime, freshwater, anise and wax and pungent in its anise; the nose was incredibly vigorous. Someone noted that it was ‘very sinewy with a lot of good acid and close to French,’ and I asked, ‘Premier Cru?’ ‘Like aSauzet,’ Bipin observed, and that was it! There was exquisite acidity, length and balance here (95+). The 1998 had a leesy, yeasty nose full of bread crusts, bread and more bread. The palate was simpler, good but a touch past its prime. There was still nice acidity in its nose and a trace of spine on the palate but not much more. The flavors were overly bready, and Jose noted ‘a little wet dog’ (88). The 1997 had ‘a little botrytis’ Frank keenly observed, and Bipin agreed. There was more anise and Sauzet characteristics again, and it also had traces of banana and butter. There was nice acid on the palate, yellow fruit flavors and a long, dusty finish (93). Don noted at the end of this first flight how the ‘age difference doesn’t jump out at you in the first flight,’ a testament to the wines’ ageability. The common denominators of the first flight were banana, mineral, zest and most importantly acidity. Bipin kicked in ‘smoke and molasses.’ Frank liked the 2002 best and Kirk the 2000. As I was furiously scribbling away and trying to capture as much detail as possible, Frank asked me ‘how do you write so much?’ I replied, ‘How does a porn star ‘ He smiled, and then I added, ‘it was my years as a porn star that prepared me for this,’ which got a chuckle. I told you about that Playgirl spread, didn’t I?

Anyway, back to the matter at hand, which was flight number two, beginning with the 1996. The 1996 gave me a flashback of a 1986 Montrachet that I once had in its botrytis qualities. There was a pinch and touch of stink there as well. The palate was smooth, balanced and round with that touch of banana, ‘pineapple,’ and a pinch of caramel. Frank noted a big change in style here, and the acidity really came out after the food. Jeff called it ‘a big blast of heat.’ The palate was a touch tropical overall and stayed on that sweet side (92). The 1995 had an even more mature nose with its dry caramel, fino, mahogany and almost tobasco aromas. There was definitely some maturity here and more caramel on its finish, less depth in the mid-palate, and lots of musk. Someone called it ‘eccentric’ (89). The 1994was a ‘classic’ according to Jeff. Smoky, hazy and toasty, the nose had some of that molasses, brown sugar and spice, but also anise and spine. The palate was sturdy and spiny with lots of spicy acidity. The texture was oily, but I couldn’t help but wonder if it would have been better a few years earlier, as the fruit tasted a bit confused despite the great structural components (93). The 1993 was a ringer for a Ruchottes from Ramonet with its mint, corn and butter. Kirk liked it the most, and it was at the top of my list for this flight as well. There was lots of complexity and while the wine was leaning towards maturity, there were still a lot of youthful qualities and great yeasty and buttery corn flavors. Quite exotic, this Ramonet junior was delicious (94). The 1992 was Jeff’s personal favorite, and he called it ‘zippy and juicy.’ There was the highest amount of tension in the nose so far, very anisy and spiny, but Bipin preferred the 1994 and felt that the 1992 did not have the same ‘follow through.’ The palate was sweeter and also with great acidity, but the flavors were a bit tangy with lots of green apple and a touch of cat’s pee. The 1992 was a bit masochistic in that regard but seemed the youngest of the flight so far and with more potential than the rest (94+). Like 2001 and 1997, the 1991 had an early bud break, was a larger crop and had a late harvest. The nose was very nutty with a tea/coffee-like edge and an exotic trace of white mocha. Mahogany, butter and earth were there, but there was this rotten edge to the nose that carried over to the palate as well. The acidity again stood out, but its aromas and flavors became a bit aggressive (90+). The 1990 was another personal favorite of Jeff’s, and its nose had a nice pungency with lots of anise, smoke, earth and minerals. Someone called it ‘extraordinary’ and ‘wrapped in time.’ There was lots and lots of acidity and a heck of a finish with flavors of slate, minerals and mouth-licking spice. I needed to hit the water! The wine mellowed a bit in the glass but was certainly outstanding for a little bit (94). Dan Berger was in attendance and got up to speak about the wines and this flight and made some interesting observations. ‘There are only three things to age wine – pH, pH, pH. If you want to make a wine that ages well, be prepared to die early; great wines do not age early; there is nothing in the 2003 except the future. California Chardonnay (in general) does not age because most don’t make it to age.’

The 1989 was very fresh considering the vintage; perhaps 1989 is a secret Chardonnay year despite the stigma that it was for Cabernet? It had a nice mesquite edge to its light anise, rainwater and yeast aromas. The palate was a little leaner, still with nice acidity and an excellent overall impression (93). The 1988 was similarly good to the 1989, and Bipin remarked how he couldn’t believe that this flight was older than the previous one. There were great bread and caramel aromas and flavors, good spice and a longer and fatter quality than the 1989. Nice job again in a tough vintage (94)! The 1987 had a bready nose with some benevolent rotten edges but was still fresh with its butter and corn aromas. Its palate was square, however, big and clumsy, a bit bitter on the finish with some of the dreaded morning mouth (89). The consistently fresh trend continued with the 1986 and its rainwater, anise, yeast, bread and corn. Despite being very balanced, the 1986 was a bit watery on the palate. There was nice acidity but not a lot of flavors up front, and it, too, came across squarely. Kirk noted its ‘canned pineapple,’ but the wine quickly faded in the glass (86). The 1985 had a very bready and yeasty nose, a pinch tropical with caramel that melted into its bread. There was nice mouth feel and a roundness here, with good length, nice spice and a Sauternes-like edge, which someone thought was some oxidation. I still liked it, although it may be heading towards the point of no return sooner rather than later (92). The 1984 was clearly the wine of the flight, very fresh, spicy and long with loads of acidity. Smooth and long on the palate and retaining that fresh quality of the nose, the 1984 was a great wine. Bipin agreed and Jeff said it was his ‘favorite Chardonnay that I ever made’ (95). The 1983 was no match for the ’84, vegetal, rotten and the worst wine of the night. It was an El Nino year apparently and a difficult one with lots of rainfall (NR). The always eloquent Manny Klausner got up and admired the ‘extraordinary consistency of style,’ also adding that while the acidity was quite special in the context of California Chardonnay, that that ‘was not enough’ and that there was more to the greatness of these wines.

There was one flight to go, and the notes were getting less and less (surprise and surprise). The 1982 had a milky and yeasty nose with a core of corny fruit, citrus twists and sweet and sour complexity. The flavors were delicious, and there was nice richness in the mouth. While the wine was very mature and flirting with the edge of the cliff, it was very tasty and right there, right then (94). The 1981, Jeff’s first vintage, had an anisy, spiny nose that was tangy in that direction. The wine lacked acidity and was pleasant yet uninspiring (86). The 1980 had foie gras in the nose, I swear, and its palate was different, aggressive and just plain weird (83). The 1979 had a nice nose of butter and caramel and a hard-candied personality. The flavors were exactly the same, the acidity nice and the finish spicy in this excellent, twenty-six year-old Chardonnay (93). The 1978 had an ‘oxidized’ nose according to Bipin, but I like to call it mature. It was tropical and ripe with old, oaky flavors. Molasses was there as well, but it was a bit over the top, and close to the hill as well (90). The ’77 was corked, and I officially ran out of gas for the last wine, the 1976.

I quickly proceeded to step on the gas to try and meet Yarom at the Roosevelt hotel, and Jose joined the party. Unfortunately, we couldn’t get in (it was a zoo), so we proceed back to Jose’s where we had an unofficial Tequila tasting. I actually took notes of the seven of the ‘best’ Tequilas, some of which I knew and others which I didn’t, but it was clear that Jose knew what he was talking about and passionate about some of the unknown producers that he has discovered over the course of his life. So here are my first Tequila notes. No numbers, sorry.

1. Cuervo Reserva de la Familia – good, rich, smooth heavy yet light on its feet
2. Don Fulano – Sweet, smooth, supple – my favorite
3. Arette Gran Classe – Early favorite of Jose, my second favorite; fuller, more aggressive finish and flavor with the Agave
4. Don Julio 1942 – Aggressive, woody, smoky style
5. Herradura Secleccion Suprema – Too woody – at $300 a bottle what a rip-off; my least favorite, but that should give you an idea of the level of quality that Jose broke out for me
6. Arette – Unique; amazing penetration and power; longest finish
7. Raicilla – Actually a region outside of tequila and supposedly a hallucogenic; like Tequila but sweeter and coarser; lesser flavors

Ay, papi. It was time to call it a night, I had a great time hanging and getting to know Jose.

Chapter II – The Night the West Was Won and a ‘Casual’ Dinner

A few weeks later, I was out in LA again, this time with Big Boy in tow. Not many people can be an entourage all by themselves, but Big Boy has that special knack. I was actually summoned out to L.A. on the orders of Uncle Matty, who had said a few months back that after all these years of attending his and a close friend of mine’s DDB and Burgwhore events as a guest, that it was finally time for me, ‘mooch extraordinaire,’ to host. I was up for the challenge, and thankfully I had a secret weapon with me.

For those of you forget, the DDB (Deaf, Dumb and Blind) is a tasting group organized by Matt Lichtenberg, aka Uncle Matty, ‘kvetch extraordinaire.’ The idea is that each month a member hosts an event where all the wines are served blind and revealed post-flight, after a discussion and lots of questions and incorrect guesses, of course. So, August was my turn to host, and Los Angeles would never be the same. Thanks to a lot of help from Big Boy, it was the Night the West Was Won, although a close friend of mine won it right back with his uncanny ability to identify most of the wines blindly, or at least be in the general vicinity. one of my fellow enthusiasts will be starring in the upcoming ‘Golden Child 2’ as a result.

Each flight, we tried to give one clue about the wines, and the first one was ‘Old and Rare Champagne.’ Ok, it was not the most clever clue in the history of the DDB, but what else is there to say? We had an auspicious beginning with a maderized 1949 Bollinger ‘Extra Quality’ Champagne (DQ). There were two more Champagnes in the first flight, however, and the second was extraordinary. It had an amazing nose, still so fresh but with a nutty intensity that said older. Hazelnut, bread, a drop of honey and a glaze of marzipan all added up to a gorgeous nose. The palate was right on the cusp of wine meets Champagne, although Brad vigorously defended its effervescence, which it did indeed have, but it was as much wine at this stage as Champagne, which is a positive sign of maturity. The flavors were great, full of woody intensity and a streak of acidity. a close friend of mine called its ‘extra,’ slightly less dry quality, as well as the fact that it was a ’30s, ’40s or ’50s Bollinger or Pol Roger. With a second pour, this magnum of 1937 Bollinger ‘Extra Quality’ Champagne became nuttier, breadier and earthier, expanding and opening to even greater heights (96+). The final Champagne of our first flight had another gorgeous nose, beautifully honeyed, perfectly nutty, and lightly kissed by bread, spice and caramel aromas. The palate was stone cold fresh and racy, on the lean and mean side. The depth to its fruit just wasn’t there yet. a close friend of mine, having had this 1976 Salon Champagne the week prior, identified it accurately and found it to be magnificent, admiring its acidity and 100% Chardonnay style. ‘Champagne is all about acid; wine tannins and acid,’ he reasoned (94+).

It was time for the white Burgs, and our clue was ‘The Devil Went Down to White Burgundy.’ Let’s see if you get it before I tell you why. The first wine was amazing. The nose was incredible, and yes, a close friend of mine knew what this was right away as well. Its nut, signature kernel, popcorn, minerality and toast aromas were divine, and Brad added ‘petroleum.’ There was also wax and mint to its precise nose, its ‘so’ precise nose. The palate was a little fatter than previous experiences, perhaps the extra bottle age, and its acidity was a bit buried. Still exquisite, the oil, depth and character in the wine were extraordinary. Christian was loving the texture of this 1996 Coche-Dury Corton Charlemagne (96). The second white was clearly the oldest in this flight based on its color. It had a waxy nose with a stewed nuttiness to it. Additional aromas of straw, vegetable oil and oak were also present in its layered nose. The palate was heavy, woodsy, thick and long with a big, brawny finish, a bit clumsy overall, complicated but clumsy. There was slight oxidation from what a close friend of mine guessed as a ‘hot vintage.’ It was a 1976 Montrachet (90). The following white had a ‘crazy/wacko/intense’ nose. It was incredibly waxy, screaming with acidity and exotic green, Spanish olives. The nose was staggeringly complex; racy, buttery and almost briny with loads of minerals. It was so pungent without being pungent, if that makes sense. Brad felt there was ‘too much acidity and not as balanced,’ and someone said it reminded them of ‘Sauzet’ with its ‘lemon tones.’ It did have great pitch and harmony, also with anise, butter and corn flavors. It was an amazing bottle of the 1986 Domaine Leflaive Batard Montrachet (97). Don’t worry, I have two more from the same batch for my ‘Burghound in the City’ weekend in May 2006. The final white of the flight had another great nose; if I didn’t know it was Ramonet, then I might have guessed Leflaive. There was the popcorn of the Coche, the wax of the and the nut of the Leflaive all in one here, and great acidity, deep and secondary. The palate was enormous in a subtle way, fine and long with great depth of mineral and corn flavors. It was the 1986 Ramonet Montrachet (96). The clue referred to the fact that every vintage ended in ‘6.’ Now that was a good clue!

The third flight had the clue of ‘Back to back vintages, three different producers.’ The first wine had a nose that was a bit oaky for my Burgundy but also had lots of citrusy vim, great acidity and vigor, and healthy shots of beef and earth. The palate had incredible texture; it was long, rich and beefy. The palate was huge and extraordinary, but the oak in the nose remained bothersome, at least for me. Muscular, long, beefy and rich, this magnum of 1979 Richebourg was just shy of outstanding due to its oak issues, but excellent nonetheless. It was some people’s wine of the night, though (94+). ‘Only one vineyard has chocolate like this,’ a close friend of mine professed to us undergraduates, ‘Clos de la Roche.’ Indeed, the next wine was a 1978 Ponsot Clos de la Roche. The nose was pungent, spiny and full of alcohol, with that chocolate, but its structural components were clearly dominant in the nose. The palate was pungent and taut, high pitched with its cat’s pee and dried plum flavors. A bit on the S M side, the wine was excellent but not necessarily for everyone (94). The third wine was yet another red Burgundy, and the best so far. There was a divine nose of rose, beef, blood, iron, menthol and Worcestershire. The palate was super sturdy, earthy and pungent with flavors of iron, library books, animal and lightly grilled game. Exquisite and intense, this 1978 Richebourg had impeccable balance and was still in its ascension (96). The final wine of this flight was a left turn with its contrasting sweet cherry jam and kirsch fruit, light garrigue and lots of stone. Rich, long and smooth, this 1978 Rayas Chateauneuf du Pape had an intense spine, great grit, length and balance. Perhaps the wine is on its plateau, but I do not think it is going anywhere that soon despite other observations (95).

I forget the clue for the next flight, but the wines were all magnums of Bordeaux from consecutive vintages. The first a close friend of mine found ‘maderized,’ and a lot of guys quickly followed suit and wrote the wine off. There was a touch of maderization, but it was not overwhelming or dominant to my nose, and there was beef, blood and earth behind it. The palate had nice texture and was rich and long, but on the earthy and briny side without much fruit. It was a rare magnum of 1948 Haut Brion (88A). The magnum in the middle actually came from the cellar of JFK courtesy of the cellar of Big Boy, and it was an incredible magnum of 1949 Calon Segur. How did Big Boy get his hands on that bottle? You didn’t hear? He just bought the Kennedys. That’s why we call him ‘Big Boy.’ All kidding aside, the Calon had a fabulous nose that was rich and lush with great t ‘n a, cedar, nut and carob aromas. Its acid and texture were unbelievably good, wonderfully fantastic and its finish went on for what seemed like minutes (97). The last wine was poo-poohed by a close friend of mine as an uninteresting ‘Pauillac from not a good vintage in the ’50s,’ and it was a 1950 Mouton Rothschild. Damn, a close friend of mine. If there ever were a wine superhero, one of my fellow enthusiasts would be it, and since he looks really good in tights, maybe we need to get him an outfit just kidding. Despite once sharing a bed with the doctor, I have not seen him in tights unless he is hiding something a la Clark Kent. The nose of the Mouton was a bit angular and off-putting, I must confess, with an artificial, bathroomy edge. The palate was too gravelly and again off-putting, and despite some great texture, the wine was what I would call below average (83).

There was one final flight, and we took it over the tracks to the Syrah part of town. The first wine was an incredible bottle of what it was. The nose was full of beef, menthol, intense spice and garden fresh herbs. Deep like a black forest at midnight, this wine had a gorgeous palate to match, less intense than the nose in its fruit but still great with its enormous acidity and length. There were lots of oohs and aahs for this 1949 Jaboulet Hermitage ‘La Chapelle’ and its great spice and spine (97). The next wine was more Madeira than wine, chocolaty and rich with a Verdelho edge and tangy sweetness. It was a 93 point Madeira, but for what it was, it was a disqualified 1955 Penfolds Grange (DQ). Too bad. The third wine of this flight had a shy, subtle nose with amazing secondary aromas of subtly sweet, strawberry fruit balanced by razor-sharp acidity. Deep and sensuous, its nose got more and more exciting with its mineral and slate components entering the picture, but the fruit never left, either. The palate was fantastic with great tension and acidity in this outstanding 1966 Chateau de Beaucastel Chateauneuf du Pape (96). The last wine of the night, of this odyssey, had another complex nose with fruit that was super-charged in its plummy, cassisy and sappy personality. White pepper extraordinaire and the perfect amount of slate balanced out its fruit, and its palate was rich, intense, deep and heavy. It was a great bottle of 1976 Guigal Cote Rotie ‘La Mouline’ (95+).

Rob wanted to see a close friend of mine’s cellar, so we packed up our bags and headed east to the cellar for a midnight run and a night cap, and what a night cap it was, the 1952 Romanee Conti. Chunks of ripe tomatoes dripped out of this beefy and gamy wine, covered with a gravy that only a Burgundy could have. It was ‘dripping Prime Rib,’ Rob concurred, and the wine was rich like Trump and long like like like let’s just call it long. With enough breed for the Kentuck Derby, this thoroughbred of a wine left no doubt as to what was the wine of the night. What is so amazing about the ’52 is how it was the first vintage of RC with the young vines after they tore up the vineyard after the 1945 vintage. I guess greatness doesn’t always have to come from old vines (98).

The night after brought us all together again for a casual dinner with Carl, Hendra, Genevriere and her tattooed friend. Meow. Joe Smith also happened to be at the restaurant celebrating his anniversary, and Joe is one of LA’s longstanding collectors and known music industry mavens, and it was nice to see him since I hadn’t for a while. The wines, however, were anything but casual due to some unbelievable generosity on the part of a close friend of mine and Hendra. We started off with a magnum of 1966 Dom Perignon, which had a bready and yeasty nose and touches of nut, caramel, geyser, soy and white chocolate. The palate was smooth and fresh, mature with its bready flavors but still possessing nice spriteliness and length. A touch of old wood and orange rind flavors emerged, and its sneaky acidity held it together beautifully. It even got racier and meatier over time; in fact, it is one of the few Champagnes where I remember it significantly improving with more time in the glass. ‘5 stars’ was a close friend of mine’s verdict, and we were on the same page (95). We segwayed to a white wine, Burgundy of course, and it was the 1992 Niellon Chevalier Montrachet. The nose was quite racy for a ’92, with more upfront minerals and anise, but the sweet butter and corn did slowly emerge as well. Balance was found between the two sides of this expensive coin, as it was served a bit too cold, so the fruit needed to catch up with the pitch. A sexy musk started to ooze out of the nose with time. The palate was typically ripe a la 1992 with a touch of oil, musk and yellow fruit flavors like banana, pineapple and yellow apple – all dried. The acidity seemed to be near the end of its optimum drinking window, expressing itself more on the finish than in the middle, and the palate had a woodsy streak that was not over the top. It did have a bit of squareness in the middle, but it got more and more exotic with its white and yellow floral components, and more minerals came out on the palate. While I originally had this wine rated in the excellent category of 93-94 points, after two hours I was amazed at how much the wine came together, and how scorchingly good the acidity became, almost out of nowhere. This wine was a good case for wine needing time to be evaluated properly (95). The always controversial 1985 La Tache was next, and although I have been a big defender of this wine in the past, on this night it was not as great as bottles past, which could have been relevant only to the random bottle that we had, of course. Perfumed and aromatic, there was great balance between its earth, animal and leather side versus its rose and black cherry one. Tomato, Worcestershire and underlying minerals were there, and the palate was more on the gamy, beefy and earthy side with flavors of leather, animal and iron. Its acidity lingered in a feminine, delicate style, athletically cut. There was not as much ‘oomph’ as I expected, and Rob agreed that it was ‘lean,’ although he was loving its ‘smoked meats.’ Stylish and pure but not spectacular, I saw the other side of the story when it comes to the 1985 and how it does not live up to most of the other great vintages of La Tache (94). What did we have here? A 1962 Romanee Conti. Hello, nice to meet you. Unfortunately, this bottle was an affected one. The nose was thick but a bit sherrified and ‘stewed tomatoes,’ a close friend of mine noted. Its molasses, earth and sherry sides were dominant in this hexagon of a wine, not completely dominant but enough to tell most of its story. The palate had some beefy flavors but was lacking secondary depths despite excellent texture. a close friend of mine found it ‘beautiful but not at its best,’ and I could tell it was real but not the total package it should have been. C’est la vie when it comes to older wines, and if you cannot accept that when you come across one of this sorts, then you should not be drinking it in the first place (DQ). No worries, there was a 1982 Lafleur on the table already. The Lafleur had an incredible nose, but what jumped out immediately was the streak of slate and minerals as opposed to the usual plummy and chocolaty fruit. That fruit was right behind the minerals, but other bottles I have had have been the exact opposite. a close friend of mine reasoned that Lafleur is basically ‘a small hut that still bottles barrel by barrel.’ Well, that made sense as to why there would be variation and why this bottle was a minerally ’82 Lafleur versus the fruit bomb that other bottles have been. Hendra was quick to point out how the Lafleur ‘needs time,’ and with that time the fruit started to saturate more and more. The palate was rich and chocolaty with phenomenal acidity. Long, fine and well bred, the 1982 Lafleur never lost track of its minerality and acidity despite the fact that the fruit kept trying to bust out of its shell. It probably would have by next morning (97+). There was one more wine left, an if you insist type of wine, the 1961 Petrus. The nose was dripping with chocolate, cassis, plum, grape and a touch of smoke. Decadently nutty and chunky, it was like the candy bar namesake with its chocolate, nut and raisin aromas, but like a custom, boutique Swiss chocolate company using top of the line ingredients as opposed to M M and Mars. The palate was rich, fleshy and balanced with fairly integrated acidity. The wine was long, fine and sensuous. Coffee crept in the nose, and the wine got spicier in the glass but was a bit softer around the edges than the typical ’61 Petrus experience that I have had consistently on four occasions. Hendra agreed. That experience is usually a 98 or 99 point one, and this was a 95 point one. What does it all mean? It all comes down to the bottle. If I remember correctly, Edouard Moueix once told us, and I think that he was serious, how the actual winemaker for the ’61 was the gardener due to internal circumstances at Petrus! That had to make for a little variation, no (95)?

Chapter III – Heitz, more Nuts and a Quartet of 1988 Burgundies

The final trip of this quarterly update was just this past weekend, and it was more work than pleasure, but I somehow managed to sneak a little pleasure in, just a little. There were two major cellars I had to inspect and catalog, and while I slaved away during the day, I was able to stumble across a few events at night, the first being a Heitz Cabernet Sauvignon ‘Martha’s Vineyard’ vertical from 1985 back to 1966 orchestrated by Uncle Matty and one of my fellow enthusiasts at La Terza.

You know it’s a good night when the cocktail round is three magnums of 1983 Louis Roederer ‘Crisatl’ Champagne. Absolutely delicious, the 1983 was both young and fresh AND mature and absolute class in a glass. Yarom, the Colonel himself, was there, and he made a special point to me of how good the 1979 was as well. Duly noted (94). Sorry for the brief notes there, but it was the cocktail round. We sat down to a 1949 Pommery Champagne. It had a deep, gold color with nice amber qualities and a fabulously nutty nose of white chocolate, caramel, earth (more dirt) and butter. Its nose was very aromatic, and its palate was very fresh, still with lots of bubbly freshness and zip to its acidity. Flavors of caramel, honey, dirt and seltzer were there, and the palate was outstanding. The dirty edge was the only negative, and a small one at that. A touch of fino and some chalk and minerals rounded out this beauty (95).

The flights were organized based on vintage quality, and the former cellarmaster from Heitz was there to tell us afew stories of ‘back in the days,’ most of which I won’t repeat here! We started with the 1967, which had an attractive nose of cedar, cassis, plum and sweet berries with secondary spice, pepper and mocha. The nose was delicious, but the palate was a little green, chalky and tangy, basically lean. The nose was excellent as nut and indoor cleaner joined the party, but the palate was average and one-dimensional, averaging out (88). The 1970 had a deeper nose with more nut, signature eucalyptus and lots of chocolate. It was meaty and rich with a nose full of black fruits, slate alcohol and acidity. The palate was big but very dry; there was a wave of a finish with lots of chalk, cedar and mouth-coating tannins. Its flavors were a bit citric, and the nose got more woody. Its tannin expression was great, though, and despite the shy fruit, it was still excellent (93). The 1972 had a funky nose with a bit of morning mouth and aggressive wood, but there was some rich cassis behind those. The palate was significantly better and quite rich and beefy, full of cassis flavors with a nice balance of fruit and finish. Yarom didn’t like it, but I did despite the fact that the nose got worse and worse. The palate was long and lingering and had the richest expression of fruit in the first flight. You just had to hold your nose while drinking it (92)! Next up was a non-vintage MZ1, which was a solera-type blend of a few vintages in the early ’70s with 50% of its fruit coming from Martha’s Vineyard. I am not sure if they made this wine on more than one occasion. The nose had a cotton candied quality, ‘more Pinot Noir,’ a close friend of mine observed. There was nice stalk and cedar aromas, a good minerality and a pleasant overall sweetness to the nose. The palate had coffee and stalk flavors and was still very good overall, and a close friend of mine kept his Pinot analogy goingwith ‘Volnay’ (90).

The next flight was 1980 through 1983, beginning with the 1980. The nose of the ’80 was cedary and tangy with lots of alcohol and rich, chocolaty fruit underneath. The nose was quite alcoholic and spiny, and the palate was very tannic and surprisingly robust, not full of fruit but still slaty and intense. There were lots of mineral, cedar and slate flavors, and the nose got more baked chocolaty with molasses. a close friend of mine like the 1980 a lot, and it was creamy and smooth with nice, nutty flavors and a sleeper (92). The 1981 had a funky nose a la the 1972 with a lot of cleaner aromas, t ‘n a, and some smoke and cassis underneath. There was a pinch of floral jasmine emerging as the cleaner blew off, and lots of cedar. The palate had lots of t ‘n a and not much more except for good concentration on the back side. Some plum came out with a pinch of flesh, and the nose got meatier and the alcohol even more enormous. This could be another sleeper, but a close friend of mine did not think it would get much better and also remarked at its alcoholic personality (90+). The 1982 was another wine not on the list of Yarom’s personal favorites, and its nose was yeasty, almost mildewy, but behind that was bright red cherries, musk and a drop of honey. The palate was dry and dirty with citric dust and leather flavors. a close friend of mine found it ‘musty,’ and it was decent but not exciting, pleasant and easy but nothing to write home about (86). The 1983 was very chalky with enormous alcohol. The palate was also very chalky, as well as rich, cedary and long. The 1983 was pleasant and somewhat classic, but if you have chalk on the blackboard issues, you might want to avoid this one. a close friend of mine found it ‘green,’ but it had nice alcohol, spice and kick (90).

Next up was the only flight of two for the night, the 1984 and 1985. The 1984 had a spiny nose with lots of pitch and complex aromas of lemon, cassis, cedar, alcohol, spice, leather and a drop of honeyed sweetness. The palate was nice and fleshy, rich and chewy with lots of plummy, cassisy fruit with good cedar, spice and kick to its finish. It was very tasty, but after the 1985 seemed lesser, I must confess. The wine got chalkier and spinier in the glass but is indubitably an excellent Heitz MV (94). The 1985 was probably the best bottle of this wine that I have ever had. I have had a lot of variation in the negative direction over the years, and this was the first bottle where I can safely say I got it. Yarom concurred with me before we had it that it was always a disappointment for him as well. This bottle of 1985 had a creamy nose with lots of nut, vanilla, plum and cassis. There were also additional aromas of bread crust, gingerbread and a drop of cleaner. a close friend of mine found it ‘youthful and extracted,’ and its finish was bigger and longer than anything so far. The palate was a bit monolithic at first as the finish was really big, and its flavors were all cedar, slate and minerals as opposed to fruit. Once the chocolate started to take over, the wine got very tasty. The finish never let up, and Scott called it ‘Mouton-like’ while someone else called it ‘the next ’74.’ a close friend of mine preferred the balance of the 1984 to the over the top style of 1985, but I was in the other camp in this head to head, although the 1984 was more balanced and Old World in style (95+).

The fourth flight of Heitz began with a 1969, which had a fabulous nose that reminded Scott of 2001 Latour. Chocolaty and rich, there were aromas of minerals, slate, spice, cedar, cream and nuts – ‘WOW,’ I wrote. With an outstanding palate to match, this huge, long and barely balanced 1969 was the talk of the table. It was a roof licker, a lip smacker, and a 5 star Broadbent wine we were informed. Dusty, smooth , spiny, spicy and balanced, this outstanding 1969 had exquisite flavors of charcoal and stone, and it reminded a close friend of mine of the 1947 Mouton. Someone said it ‘tickles your insides.’ It was one of the most memorable wines of the night, and arguably THE wine of the night (96). The 1973 was another 5 star Broadbent wine and another intense nose, this one stony, chocolaty, anisy and wound. There was that drop of cleaner blending into its cedar, mineral and slate aromas. The palate was smoother and more velvety, luscious and smooth, quite creamy. Flavors of leather, carob and cedar got a little spinier but never reached the vigor of the 1969 (94). The 1979 was quite stony and full of vim with intense minerals in its nose and chocolate, plum and leather as well. A sprinkle of coffee and mocha rounded out the nose, and its palate was classic and tasty with cedar, leather and one chocolate chip. a close friend of mine was digging it, and there was good spice to the finish. Ironically enough, this was one of the few wines where I noticed eucalyptus, the supposed signature aroma and/or flavor of Martha’s Vineyard, and Yarom and I shared that sentiment that there wasn’t a lot of eucalyptus going around (94).

There were two more flights to go, and it was the 1975’s turn to take center palate. The 1975 had all the classic components: cedar, charcoal, tannins, alcohol and just enough cassis to hold it all together. Smooth and balanced, it too (surprise) was on the back side of the flavor wheel but still excellent (93). The 1976 was similar to the 1975 except there was more fruit in its nose, of a cassis direction. The palate was not as intense but still very good. The acidity in all of these wines is what really set them apart from most other Cabernets 92). The 1977 was back to the anise and indoor cleaner side of things with a touch of burnt popcorn and cassis. The palate was smooth and mature, on a plateau and quite easy, pleasant and straightforward (88). I preferred the 1977 Bella Oaks slightly to the Martha’s with its stewed sweetness and exotic, floral fruit. There was a bit more richness to its fruit and some nice caramel aromas and flavors here (89).

Here came the big one, the mother of all flights, starting with the 1966. The 1966 was the first vintage ever produced of Martha’s, and it had a yummy nose of chocolate, charcoal, cedar, slate, eucalyptus and chocolate-covered plums. Yarom found it ‘Cognac-ish’ with its high alcohol, and there was lots of pinch blending in. The palate was smooth, still rich but mature, with nice tannin and acid expression and a lot of pinch (93). The 1968, though, made me quickly forget about the ’66. ‘Whoa,’ was the first word that came to mind. The ’68 had a nose full of chocolate sex, incredibly rich, and the first nose in a while (and for almost the entire night) that was all about the fruit. There were aromas of coconut, oak, mint and ‘shake.’ The palate was rich, thick and long with lots of slate, cedar and chocolate flavors. It was outstanding (96). If there was one wine that could follow the act of the 1968, it was the 1974, and it did so very nicely. Always a classic, the 1974 lived up to its reputation. Being a bit tired, I wrote ‘see past notes.’ The 1974 seemed younger than the 1968 – wait a second, it was. Although most people were on the side of the 1968, I felt that six years from now the 1974 would be as good if not better than the 1968 and have a longer life over all. Interestingly enough, the former cellarmaster from Heitz said that the 1968 ‘was always the one’ (96+). Lastly, we had the 1978, which was a bit edgy by comparison to the rest of the flight. Toasted and with anise and cleaner flavors, there was a touch of funk here, but its acidity was cracklingly good (92+).

Taxi?

The next night found me slurping down a magnum of 2004 George Pinot Noir ‘Martinelli Vineyard’ at the Four Seasons with George himself. Man, it was tasty and a welcome wagon after ten hours inside a warehouse cataloging wines such as 1961 Palmer and 1971 Richebourg in magnums. You’ll see that cellar in November’s auction. It was a low-key night, and I had to be close to San Diego at 10am, so I slithered back to the Hilton and collapsed in exhaustion. Sorry, no note was taken as I was pretty beat.

Sunday night, after a round trip to San Diego and checking out another great cellar, one that included an owc case of 1982 Lafleur (yup, see November auction again), it was time for another dinner with the Colonel Yarom Limor and his ‘Nuts.’ We went to the Rainbow, a legendary rock n’ roll hangout, and Yarom is probably the only guy in the entire country that would do a wine dinner in such a locale, but you know what? That’s why his group is always fun, and the food was quite good and the company even better. We were also joined by Jose, now infamous for his midnight Tequila tasting. We had a blast, and some pretty good wines as well.

We started with my favorite wine of the night, actually a champagne. The 1976 Taittinger ‘Comtes de Champagne’ Champagne was delicious, smooth and creamy with rich fruit flavors, yellow ones, along with starch, bread, honey and caramel. The nose came alive with a refill and was dominated by its bread and caramel components. A spicy tomato salad brought its acidity into perspective in this excellent, 100% Chardonnay cuvee (94). The 1964 Pio Cesare Barolo had a sandy and leathery nose with sweet Burgundian fruit. Yarom noted how ‘it looks and smells like Burgundy,’ and there were many similarities. Aromas of rose, nuts and sweet tar pointed towards Nebbiolo. Its palate was very mature with a slaty, soft finish. Its fruit was leathery, beefy and sweet in those regards. There were no tannins left, just fruit and acidity, and that was ok. Still balanced and beautifully smooth and tasty, there were traces of cigar, chocolate, smoke and tar to this deliciously mature Nebbiolo (93). Caren called the 1979 Chave Hermitage ‘skanky and good,’ and she was right. There were lots of earth, hay, freshly cut grass, animal and sweet, stinky black and purple fruits to the nose, and a touch of exotic tea and jasmine aromas and flavors, too. The flavors seemed more Cote Rotie than Hermitage to me, and there was not a lot of acidity left, but the wine was still tasty, fully mature and easy, smooth and luscious with some classic roasted, beefy fruit (92). A 1990 Carpazo Brunello di Montalcinowas pleasant with its sandy, leathery and dusty Brunello nose. There was just a bit of taut, sweet black cherry fruit. Smooth and easy, there were tar flavors and citric tang on the palate (90). Another Italian was next, the 1995 G. Conterno Barolo ‘Cascina Francia Riserva.’ The nose was shy, but I could still pick up on tar, dust, leather and deep fruit. Its palate was rich and lush, though, full of olive, leather and anise flavors. While not what I wouldcall taut, it was on the drier side (92). We segwayed to Burgundy with a 1997 Arnoux Echezeaux. The nose was pinchy with some citric vim and stalky edges. There was fragrant black cherry fruit behind it, and its palate was also very cherry, chewy, stemmy and easy. There was a bit of aggressive wood there, though (90). We then had a wine from Peter Linn, who was there, and whose family owns and runs Majella in Australia. He, however, is making Syrah in California, and we sampled his 2004 Peter Linn ‘Carlson Canyon’ Syrah. The nose was rich and deep, somewhat brooding with a sweet, hedonistic concentration to it. The palate was rich and beefy, smooth and tasty, classically Californian in style. A touch of bacon and molasses rounded out its finish (91). We then had a 2001 Greenock Creeck Shiraz ‘Alice’s Vineyard,’ which was more reserved than I expected in its nose. The nose was more bready and chocolaty than anything else, and its palate was smooth with some orange rind flavors. Scott found it ‘almost like syrup,’ and there was a pinch of apricot on the palate and decent length in the belly (91). There were two more wines to go, and one of them was a 1986 Margaux. The Margaux has an intense nose full of vigor but also that Margaux elegance. Nut, iron, cedar, slate, plum and brine were all to be found in the nose, but the palate was a lot smoother than I expected. There were barely any tannins here, and something was definitely missing in this bottle (92A). We finished up with a very rare 1982 DeBortoli Botrytis Sauternes from Australia. This is a wine that has a little bit of fame but not that much, and I have never seen any bottle of it that was this old. Rich, coconutty and delicious, the DeBortoli had touches of wood and custard and was still young. Someone suggested that if this was served blind, people would guess ’67 Yquem. Well, not quite, but it was still excellent, and those rock n’ roll girls at the Rainbow sure liked it, too (93).

Columbus Day 2005 had me with Jefery Levy, director extraordinaire, catching up on some things and some wines. I just realized that I was in LA two Columbus Days ago as well with a close friend of mine drinking that 1870 Mouton that was so great. Columbus Day, LA and JK all go great together, I reckon. 1988 was the theme, and Burgundy the playing field. 1988 is a much maligned and overlooked vintage, but it is one that I have had some success with in my limited experience, so I was quite curious to get to know the fantastic four that we had assembled. I brought the whites and Jefery the reds. We started with a 1988 Lafon Meursault ‘Desiree,’ which had a buttery nose full of caramel and pinches of slate, anise and minerals. Very mature and musky, its fruit was quite sexy. There was that classic Lafon bigness to the nose, and the palate was round, smooth and easy with lightly lingering acids. There was a lot of caramel on the finish as well, and the wine was very buttery with secondary wax and toffee flavors. Despite some early premonitions, it held quite well in the glass over dinner (92). The 1988 Coche-Dury Meursault ‘Perrieres’ was a whole ‘nother ballgame. The nose was much purer, cleaner and more concise with the signature Coche aromas of nut, kernel, citrus, bread and butter. It seemed a lot younger than the Lafon in its nose and still felt young overall. The palate had great flavors of citrus and minerals and balance between them. There was a kiss of grapefruit to its lemon and nice tension in the mouth. Longer and better balanced, and with superior acidity, the Coche stood out from the Lafon by a couple of lengths. The only thing that one could say negatively about the Coche was the lack of weight on the palate, but to many that could be a great thing (93+). A 1988 Echezeaux had a dirty, stinky nose at first but rich rose, beef and sturdy wood right behind. It was quite edgy with its wood and cedar qualities, and there were nicer aromas of iron and stem. The palate was rich, rusty and tannic (did someone say ’88?), a classic ’88 that is youthful and large. There were sawdust, earth and tobacco flavors, but overall the wine was a bit aggressive in its wood, and its wood became green (91). The 1988 Leroy Vosne Romanee ‘Aux Reas’ was pretty special, as Madame Leroy only made 300 bottles, or one barrel. It had the signature Leroy style of deep, dark black fruits, cedar and spine. Lightly stemmy, the palate was smooth with pretty rose, cherry and citrus flavors. It gained in the glass and surpassed the Echezeaux with time, and its tannins kept growing in the glass (92).

PS – By the way, I am taking the next couple weeks off from writing before I go blind. We have an auction this weekend, we have to make the next auction the following week, and then there’s the 2nd Annual ‘Top 100’ weekend in NYC. That will be one to read all about.

This past summer saw the end of the first year of my first official tasting group, the 12 Angry Men. They said it wouldn’t last, but we made it, nonetheless. All the politics, all the extra effort and all the coordination of doing a group like this seem well worth it after looking at all the great wines we were able to try, and all the good times we were able to share together. Only half of this initial year’s events made its way to the public, as many events remain in the archives of 2004, including one of the greatest evenings of Bordeaux that I have ever experienced, hosted by the one and only ‘Big Boy.’ You’ll read about that one sooner or later. Our first calendar year was actually 15 months for various membership reasons. ‘Brose was closing out the first year with an event at his gorgeous home up in Connecticut. He had gotten a car for the NYC crew to come up, and after fighting through some rush-hour traffic, we finally made it up and were definitely thirsty, despite the bottle of Champagne we had on the way up.

We were welcomed by some more Champagne, that Champagne being a 1985 Cristal, a delicious bottle of bubbly with great bread and toast flavors, possessing that elegant richness that only Cristal can, finishing smoothly and finely. It was exquisite (95). We had a white, or two, but due to some initial service confusion, we each basically got one white. I had the 1989 Trimbach Riesling ‘Cuvee Frederic Emile’ SGN. Ray was quick to share some of his knowledge, citing the fact that Frederic was the grandfather, and that the 1964 Clos Ste. Hune is the best bottle of white he ever had. The 1989 SGN had a lot of minerality, petrol and what Peter pegged as ‘honeysuckle.’ The nose was very racy and intense and not overly sweet. Spicy, zesty and alluring, there were lots of yellow fruits as well. Its palate was rich, meaty, lush and spicy, almost Gewurz-y in style. There was zip and zing with a great, woodsy and slaty spice on the back end. Peter found it ‘consistent and thick,’ while Jim liked its ‘balance’ (95).

It was time to get serious, and a flight of La Missions was first. This bottle of 1955 La Mission Haut Brion was spectacular. The nose was amazing, unbelievable with its super chocolaty and grapy fruit balanced by classic earth and slate. There was incredible depth and breadth to its fruit in the nose, and Mike keenly observed that it had ‘all the stuff that should be there’ and added ‘hickory.’ Ray had to jump in with ‘cinnamon pot pourri,’ but he did just return from the bathroom. HA. There was gravel, spine and edge to the wine, which was long, fine, smooth and intense. It was rich, lush, thick and spicy, and Peter found some ‘bacon fat’ emerging. Wow (98). Eric threw in a 1955 Haut Brion as a ‘ringer’ for our La Mission flight. The nose was a bit caramelized, and Rob immediately thought the wine was maderized. It was affected a bit, but far from being shot and still had a lot of purple flavors, along with bacon, earth, gravel and smoke, but the La Mission did crush it, and it should have been a little closer. The wine was still long and fine with nice earth and gravel. The palate was excellent but still less than it should have been, although its caramel flavors were great. This wine made me want to add a new dimension to my ratings, an ‘A’ for affected bottle (93A). The 1961 La Mission Haut Brion was similar to the 1955 in its grapy and chocolaty profile, although someone said that its finish was ‘lighter and more chalky.’ I saw the chalk in the nose blending in with its slate and gravel. There was lots of spine in the nose; the palate was more gravelly and stony. The finish was a walloper, though, a veritable ‘cedar chest,’ Jim noted. I wouldn’t exactly call this bottle affected, but I have had better (95+). Lastly in this flight was a stellar 1975 La Mission Haut Brion. I found its nose exciting in an almost erotic way. Its seepy, grapy fruit oozed out of the glass, guarded closely by chocolate, fig, walnut and slate. There was lots of character, and supercharged t ‘n a. Make that loads of t ‘n a, spice, power and length; the wine was impressive, as always, for me at least (97+). Actually, the 1975 wasn’t the last wine in the flight, as we had a bottle of 2000 La Mission Haut Brion that I had actually forgotten until turning the page of my notes. Here’s to old age .or too much alcohol. They’re both noble causes. The 2000 was undrinkable in the presence of its elder siblings. Flamboyant, over the top and almost Caliesque after the other three La Missions, the 2000 was the junior member of the team and not allowed to sit in on this board meeting. I am sure 2000 La Miss is a great wine and have had different experiences with it, but on this night and in this context it didn’t matter. Everyone wanted to drink all the other La Misses and knew that there was still plenty of wine to come (Unrated).

The next chapter in this saga was a long one, featuring five wines from 1982 and an ’86 Mouton, beginning with an outstanding 1982 Leoville Las Cases. The nose was deep and intense with a lot of spine. Rob found it ‘quixotic,’ whatever that meant. It was a big word from Big Boy. The wine was still young but brooding in a mature fashion. There were great aromas of grape, cassis, earth and slate. The palate was spicy and intense; it was certainly a great bottle of 1982 Las Cases. Let’s just say that I have already seen considerable variation with many different ’82s. This was a bottle that was still young and should be profound in twenty years. Mike awoke from a deep slumber to utter ‘cucumbers,’ but I actually saw what he was talking about (95+). The 1982 Latour was bready and yeasty in a good way, grilled like meat fresh off the fire. It had deep, chunky, cassisy fruit and was dripping with fat. The wine was so thick, rich and unctuous that it was immediately in charge and told the Las Cases that its turn was over, as good as the Leoville was (97+). A 1982 Pichon Lalande was next and out of magnum. A quick debate ensued between Mike and Rob over the wine. Mike found it ‘unusual’ for 1982 Pichon, and Rob was talking about the magnum factor. I was definitely starting to feel it and missed taking a lot of notes on this wine, but I did find major structure here, and the wine was not as open as the usual ’82 Pichon, so I guess they were both right. There was lots of spine and a spicy finish for this outstanding magnum of Lalande (96). One of my favorite wines from 1982, the 1982 Mouton Rothschild was intense and definitely a wine that one had to dig into. This wine was not going to give itself to us just like that. The breed was staggering, deep and thunderous with a centerpoint, a veritable eye amidst a tornado of a structure. The wine was flat out enormous, almost freaky in nature compared to the personalities of its previous brethren’the cedar was just, just starting to emerge. I immediately told Jefery, of Los Angeles, the real one if you remember, ‘don’t touch this wine for another twenty years,’ because it will be spectacular. There is no doubt in my mind that good bottles of 1982 Mouton will in the end stack up with the other great Moutons of the 20th century, and we all know Bordeaux doesn’t truly get great until the age of thirty, right? The wine was still shy, yet sturdy and sly, quite ‘longgggg,’ I wrote (97+). As good as the 1982 was, the 1986 Mouton was staggeringly so. ‘WOW,’ was the first thing that came to mind. Its amazing concentration was the second. Huge, thick and lip-smacking, this ’86 elevated this flight to another level. Since this wine was served blind, there were a lot of ’82 guesses occurring, and Jefery liked its ‘vanilla.’ As good as the previous four wines were, this bottle of 1986 Mouton made me want to downgrade all of them! This is another Mouton that will be amongst the 20th Century’s Top Ten, and maybe even Top Five Moutons (99). The 1982 Lafite that closed out the flight was anti-climactic yet still outstanding. It had another great nose, filled with peanut, earth, more nuts, tannins, alcohol and spice. The wine was rich, long, smooth and sexy (96).

Words really started to elude me for the final flight, which started off as a flight, at least. The 1994 Harlan had greatness written all over it. It stood up to the previous flight of incredible Bordeaux and the ‘only wine that can,’ Ray added. It was indubitably great, as it always has been, one of the greatest wines ever made in California (98). The 1997 Harlan had tons of milk chocolate in its nose but was clearly not as good as the 1994. There were intense walls of alcohol to get over to get into this humongous, massive wine. It was not that drinkable at the moment, perhaps that moment, but the wine certainly had more ‘oomph’ than the ’94. Comparatively unready, the 1997 did make a good case that it might outlive the 1994, though (95++). The 1998 Greenock Creek Cabernet Sauvignon ‘Roennfeldt Road’ had exotic aromas of apple and plum, ‘green’ apple Ray suggested. ‘Overripe raspberry,’ someone countered, and there was black cherry and tang as well. The wine was rich and kinky but far from incredible. I neglected to give it a rating, but if memory serves me correctly, we were talking probably 92 points. There was a 1997 Shafer ‘Hillside Select’ that I absolutely can’t remember and took absolutely no notes for. Sorry. The last wine I had anything written about was a glorious 1978 Jaboulet Hermitage ‘La Chapelle.’ It was a great bottle, full of coffee, gingerbread, mocha, menthol, earth and bacon, wound and high-powered (98). We somehow managed to get home.

Jefery had just gotten into town that week, for he was staying in New York for a couple months while directing, and we soon thereafter got together along with Rob and some female companionship at Cru, where a new alliance formed as well. What slowly started as an innocent evening quickly turned into the inaugural meeting of the ‘Cru Club,’ a group dedicated to enjoying the fruit off the award-winning wine list at Cru every so often.

I quickly found a lonely bottle of 1993 Ramonet Montrachet, which had a gorgeous, waxy nose. Aromas of honeycomb, anise, alcohol, nut, light butter and mature Chardonnay musk danced in its smoky nose. The palate was full of forward alcohol and spice, corn, yeast, candle wax and dry honeycomb (no sweetness to the honey). The palate was saying ‘drink me now,’ not in that it would be ‘or never,’ but in that it is pretty damn good right now. The wine was long, and you could taste the greatness of Montrachet. Three hours later the wine was still singing (95). The 1964 Clos de Tart had a gorgeous, seductive nose with great aromatics of rose, smokehouse, gardenias, pinches of menthol and leather, red cherry, sexy musk and light , underlying earth. Ruth observed how it was ‘unlike anything I have ever smelled,’ while Teona noticed its ‘stinky wood.’ Rob found it ‘Baroloesque.’ While the nose was complex, the palate was delicate and easy. Worcestershire crept in to join its menthol flavors, and the wine softened yet held in the glass (92). The 1983 D’Angerville Volnay ‘Clos des Ducs’ was a real treat. The nose was nutty and meaty with a light brown sugar glaze and accompanying aromas of gingerbread, earth, grape and light t ‘n a. The mouth was ‘rippin,’ according to Rob, and it was rich, mouth-filling and with some ‘pop,’ which translates into a vibrant quality to its tannins/alcohol/acidity, almost explosive on its finish. There was more alcohol and acid than tannins, however, as its tannins were fully integrated. There was still a lot of vigor to its finish in this excellent wine, which was quite nutty and gave some ‘dirty bomb’ impressions, although that is supposed to be a positive thing. Someone called it ‘a revelation.’ The wine held quite well and its ‘oomph’ factor never left. It was another pleasing 1983, which remains somewhat of a sleeper of a vintage at the top level (94). Next, we plucked a 1986 Ponsot Clos de la Roche V.V. off the list, which had a noticeably lighter color than the Volnay. Its nose was amazing with sweet, sweet fruit that was ‘Yquem-like’ with its apricoty aromas. It was quite distinct and an accurate description. There was still the rust, leather, whips and chains of the ’86 vintage, another vintage that I have been having a lot of luck with as of late. There was a touch of milkyness and an amazing kink to its fruit with lots of leather. With a little time, the wine became round and smooth, though a bit short in the middle, but the wine then reversed course to gain in the glass and become more assertive (93). The 1964 La Tache was a ‘Big Boy’ selection, of course, and he quickly put its nose as ‘Right Bank and Lafleur more than La Tache,’ and he was 100% right. It was a Pomerol impersonating a Burgundy, but that wouldn’t be the first time that happened. Its nose was chocolaty, plummy and figgy, and the only sign of Burgundy in its nose was some mesquite. The palate was rich and hearty, full of spice, tannins and length. It had a ‘summery’ taste one of the ladies noticed, and there were lovely strawberry fruit flavors along with leather and musk oil ones. The wine was satiny, on the smooth side, yet still somewhat vigorous in a lip-smacking, roof-licking way (95). The 1991 Meo-Camuzet Richebourg had another intense nose with a lot of character, full of citrus, earth, nut, grape, blackberry and cedar. There was an intense grit to the palate; the wine was very gritty, long and another roof-licker. Its finish was gritty as well, sandy and spiny, but I think this wine needs some more time to find itself completely (94+).

Just when I thought that things were winding down and that the bill might be fairly reasonable since we chose wisely, and since Cru’s prices are phenomenal, Big Boy summoned for a wine list. Gulp. A 1978 Guigal Cote-Rotie ‘La Mouline’ soon came out thereafter. This is the second time I have had a bottle from this very same case, and it was unbelievable again. Aromas of blueberry pancakes, maple syrup, bacon and whip cream jumped out of this exotic wonder. Robert Bohr finally got into the act, calling ‘its concentration of fruit stunning.’ The fruit was so thick, it was bordering on scary. Cassis, violet, black raspberry, leather and musk were all present as well. Its nose was so good, it was almost too good to drink almost! Flavors of spice, bacon, menthol, violet and slate caressed our palates, and if I wasn’t a bit fatigued, and if we had had it earlier in the night, it probably would have been a 99-pointer as the other bottle we had recently (98). Robert Bohr made the last selection of the evening for us, a 1968 Mastroberadino Taurasi ‘Castelfrancia’ Riserva. ‘This is a wine that deserves to be written up indubitably Italian,’ Robert said. Made from Aglianco, Nebbiolo and possibly one other grape, Robert insisted it was the best wine ever made of its type. Volcanic and ashy, the wine had an intense nose full of spine, leather, spice, earth and minerals, chock full on all accounts. Its rich, hearty flavors had great cedar to them. There were a few more descriptors written, unfortunately now illegible a month later. I think one of them was about the nose from an anonymous member of Cru, calling the leather ‘spank me’ quality, but I could be mistaken (94+).

And that was the first official meeting of the ‘Cru Club.’

Meanwhile, the seeds for another group were being planted. Four cities in four quarters, eight members, and some very serious wines make up the recipe, and we had a precursor event at the Four Seasons organized by Jefery, where we were joined by ‘never stand’ Pat, Bruce and some ladies including Gina Gershon, who is very fine, indeed, as Clive would say. The name of the group is the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, of course. C’mon, you know it’s a good one. So this was an exhibition dinner, if you will, as the group has not officially started, but three definite members were in attendance.

A trio of Salons started our evening, and we begun with the 1979. There was some maderization to the nose, but it was not ‘dead,’ as Rob insisted. There were bready and seltzer flavors along with some sherry ones that were too mature for its age. In the end, I had to (DQ) it, anyway. The 1982 Salon was great, just as I remembered the bottle we had last week at Bruce’s place. There was great toast to its flavors, and it was still fresh with plenty of meaty, chewy richness to boot. There was great balance, nice length and tasty flavors to this pure, outstanding Champagne (95). The 1985 Salon was a lot lighter than the 1982, still fresh, but almost like a little brother. It was soft and easy with a nice elegance and freshness but no match for the 1982 (92).

A pair of ’85s were next, starting with a 1985 H. Jayer Vosne Romanee ‘Cros Parantoux.’ Unfortunately, I think this bottle was fake. There was no ‘Cros Parantoux’ on the cork, so it was most likely a regular Jayer Vosne Romanee relabeled as it was still branded by Jayer. This is why we check all Jayer corks when auctioning or offering them through our store, as there are some counterfeits out there due to their extraordinary value. The bottle was also a bit musty and corky, but behind that it was beautiful, smooth, refined, subtle, soft and elegant. It was a very good wine, most likely village Jayer Vosnr Romanee, but not what it was supposed to be and therefore (DQ). The 1985 Leroy Chambertin had a deep, brooding nose with incredible depth and length there musk, meat, nut, vitamin, game and black fruits on the dark side all found themselves in its saturated and complex nose. The palate was big and rugged in the way that only Chambertin can be, although perhaps still on the young side for optimum drinking (95+).

A Clos de la Roche Celebrity Death Flight was next, pitting Ponsot against Dujac. While the Dujac should have been served first, shit happens, so we started with the 1990 Ponsot Clos de la Roche V.V. It had a fabulous nose with a beautiful, pure core of fruit, great balance and an appealing obesity. There were secondary aromas of meat and menthol, and the wine felt like a beast lurking the bushes of the glass. Pat found it ‘sexy and chewy.’ The palate had loads of vitamins and red fruits and a pinch of pungency that someone translated as ‘cat piss.’ The wine lacked some of the weight of other bottles that I have had, but that could have been me on this night. The wine was indubitably outstanding, just not as outstanding as three or four other occasions that I remember vividly (96). The 1990 Dujac Clos de la Roche was a perplexing bottle. The nose was a bit oaky for me, an unusual occurrence when it comes to a bottle of Dujac. There were a lot of oohs and aahs, so I became a bit introspective. The wine was atypically earthy and oaky with a lot of forest flavors, all floor ones, in fact. Some cherry fruit started to emerge, but this bottle just didn’t seem as good as it had been or should have been (usually 95 points); perhaps it was the curse of Allen Meadows regarding the 1990 vintage (92?). The 1991 Ponsot Clos de la Roche V.V. was not a favorite of Bruce’s or Rob’s, but I was digging it. The nose was rich, meaty and earthy with a lot of power and spice there. The palate was on the drier side but more intense with a lot of earth, black fruits and spice. It rounded out well in the glass (95). Again, the 1993 Dujac Clos de la Roche was oakier than I ever remembered it being. Was it possible that two batches from two different vintages could be off this way? Was it me? Or was it the Ponsot taking charge of this head-to-head matchup and leaving the Dujac naked in the middle of the ring? All these questions had few answers. The winedid have beautiful texture but was marked with an oak ‘letter’ (92?).

I was a bit disturbed at the showing of these Dujacs, but three La Taches were on their way to the table, starting with a 1991. Rob came out with a ‘spectacular’ right away, and I must admit that the wine was (is) in a great spot. Rich and meaty, its bouquet was filled with iron, vitamin, spice and leather. Intense, long, balanced and gorgeous, this was some serious Burgundy. It was a step up from the Clos de la Roche, possessing more intensity, spice and tannin than any of the prior wines. The palate was similarly rich and long with a touch of cola flavors (97). The next bottle had the honor of becoming the best 1993 La Tache that I have ever had. It was classic 1993 all the way with its intense, long and spiny nose, which was also loaded to the gills with vitamins. The palate was also loaded with vitamins, earth and spine; the wine was more than outstanding; it was ridiculous and the first glass that I finished on this night (97+). Compared to the 1991 and 1993, the 2001 La Tache was ‘superfly,’ forward and aromatic, dripping with cherry fruit, cherry fruit that needed to be popped. There were also lots of vitamins and nice spice, but it seemed ‘Junior Varsity’ after the 1991 and 1993. It was still outstanding; it only needs time (95).

We headed south to the Rhone Valley, where a flight of La Mouline awaited. The 1976 La Mouline had an incredible nose, amazing, even ridiculous again! There was first some confectioners sugar and molasses, but behind those the classic aromas of great Cote-Rotie. Violets, bacon and even biscotti graced the nose, as did coffee and blue fruits our palate. The wine was super, super smooth, possessing a finesse and grace that only thirty years of age can (97). The 1983 La Mouline, one of my all-time favorites, was a little weird, having some brett issues. There were band-aids and licorice aromas, and some fruit started to break through with a little coaxing, but the wine was not 100%. The palate was especially gravelly and stony, but its length and power were unmistakable. Its flavors were internal, affected by brett most likely, and although one could understand the wine’s greatness, its flavors were not complying (95A). I was pretty much out of gas by the time the 1985 La Mouline came out, a gingerbread man of a wine with lots of pungent and lethery spice and a smooth, long, regal palate (96).

There was one wine left, a fantastic bottle of 1974 Heitz ‘Martha’s Vineyard.’ It was a great bottle, a veritable chocolate ice cream soda loaded with minerals that was amazingly fresh. It stood up to all the Old World wines quite well and was the perfect finishing touch (97).

And that is my summer tasting group update.

First of all, I’d like to thank all the concerned readers who constantly remind me how I’m slacking off and not writing enough tasting notes. I am a bit backed up, I must confess. There has been no shortage of great wine events over the summer, albeit at a bit of a more civilized pace than the usual Fall and Spring seasons. Hopefully, I will be caught up over the next few weeks, current and ready for an amazing Fall season of incredible wine events. For those of you that don’t know, many of these events are open to the public you can check out the schedule at www.ackerwines.com/workshop. Our Top 100/All-Star weekend this October is officially sold out.

Eighteen of us gathered at the Four Seasons this past May for a comprehensive retrospective of the great Lafite-Rothschild, one of the world’ most famous wine properties. When it comes to the First Growths, my experience has led me to favor three of the ‘fab’ five. Margaux has always been my least favorite First Growth, especially when you go back further than twenty-five years. This does not mean that there are not great Margauxs that I have enjoyed, but in the context of this century, which is the active drinking pool for all of us right now, Margaux has never been at the very top of my list. Its elegant style usually has me looking for more, but perhaps the modern-day greats like 2000, 1996, 1990 etc., will deliver on their perceived promise. Lafite would be next on my personal preference list, working my way up from the bottom. Again, Lafite has also had a more elegant style over the years, and while I have had some great bottles of Lafite, mainly the 1996, 1990, 1988, 1982, 1959 and 1953s, it has just not been my cup of tea, so to speak. The continental divide forms here, and then we have Latour, Haut Brion, and Mouton. Now, it gets interesting. I know Latour can be a very strong argument, but for me at the moment, I would have to put it in third place. I know what you are going to say, and yes the 1982, 1961, 1959 and 1928 (maybe even the ’45) are amongst the greatest wines of the century, but Latour has been inconsistent and less than stellar in years it should have been great; furthermore, I have found some of the ‘better’ older Latours to not be so hot anymore, but that could always be bottle variation. So that’s that. That leaves us with Haut Brion and Mouton Rothschild, and second place is a close call over third. Haut Brion, with the 1989 cemented as probably the greatest First Growth of the modern era, along with wines such as 1928, 1945, 1955, 1959, and 1961, is my second favorite of the moment. I have found it more consistent overall, and I guess I am a sucker for Graves, as if La Mission was in this contest, it would finish ahead of Haut Brion and perhaps even Mouton. Yes, for me, Mouton Rothschild wins the blue ribbon. The 1986 and 1982 stand like bouncers outside a hot nightclub in NYC, ready to deny admittance to anyone that approaches. 1961, 1959, 1955, 1949, 1947, 1945, 1928 even and the 1945 is one of the top ten wines of the century, period. The 1947 is perhaps the most overlooked, great wine of the century as well. Every chateau has had its ‘off’ years, but if you look at the best ten wines produced by any chateau, I do not think that anyone stacks up 1-10 against Mouton. It has also been my favorite of the 1982s, although see me in twenty years, so we can actually enjoy them!

But I digress, it was Lafite’s turn at the table, and we started with the 1961, served out of two half-bottles. The 1961 has never lived up to the status of the vintage overall, so I did not think that having half-bottles here mattered that much, and besides, it was also an interesting experience. The 1961 had nice carob, nut, pencil and cedar. There was a touch of metal there and some awkward flavors that blew off. It was obviously not a great wine but still good, smooth and easy with light traces of caramel. It was good, enjoyable but unexciting (87). The 1970 had a little green and horse stink to its nose; it was definitely a dirty Lafite, one that might not be invited to the dinner table if guests were coming. The wine was smooth with good character and nice dust, earth and cedar flavors. The dirty qualities of the nose translated into game on its palate (88). The 1975 had a touch of must to its nose that lessened with time, translating into sweet soy fruit laced with brown sugar. The wine was gritty and round, yet less complex than other bottles that I have had. The palate was a touch musty as well, but its tannins were the most noticeable so far. I think this bottle was affected a little by cork issues as well as possible heat exposure, although each in a slight way (88+?). The 1976 rounded out the first flight and had a great nose full of menthol and chocolate, very Mouton-ish circa the forties and fifties, I thought. This has long been reputed to be the ‘wine of the vintage’ by many, and I could easily see why. Its rich, complex nose was supported by a smooth, chocolaty palate that was a step behind its aromatics (92).

The next flight was made up of 1985, 1988 and 1989. The 1985 had a lovely nose, almost having this exotic orange/citrus edge, along with peanut, carob, grilled meat and white flowers. This was the ‘first Lafite nose,’ Bryan keenly observed. The palate was a bit lost at the moment with little expression and definition at first. It did open up with time (91). The 1988 was excellent as always, clearly having more intensity in its nose than anything prior. Nut, chocolate, cocoa, espresso bean, alcohol and the slightest hint of menthol all graced my nose. There were good tannins and balance to the palate with lots of minerals on the finish. The wine gained in the glass. It is an excellent Lafite and perhaps the wine of the vintage (93). The 1989 had a perfumed, lavender edge with the usual carob and nut. It was very classic in many regards and quite expressive and showy at the age of sixteen. It was the most expressive so far, in fact. It had great balance and nice acidity and some additional flavors of stone and green bean (94).

We went back in time with the third flight, beginning with two bottlings of 1900. The 1900 BG bottling was a bit suspicious, a little fresher than I remembered and expected. The wine had a metallic streak as well that was unsurpassable, so I had to (DQ) it. The 1900 that was recorked by Whitwham’s smelled much more authentic. Some feel that bottles recorked by Whitwham’s are a bit unpure, and Bryan felt that this bottle had a ‘hollowed out quality.’ I found a lot of positives out of it, though, as there was lots of cedar, hay, earth and cobwebs there. The wine was smooth, soft and tasty and definitely a bit hollow, although I think most 105 year-old wines will be! It was like a frame with half a picture, but it held well to reveal lots of sand, dust, earth and desert flavors (92). The 1953 was unfortunately a bit maderized, but in that ‘second stage’ way that Roberto Conterno alluded to when we did a vertical with him this past Spring. It was affected but quite tasty, and I still enjoyed its candy corn and caramel-driven personality. However, it was not what it should have been, which is one of the most charming and seductive Lafites ever made, so even though this bottle was in the 93 point territory, it should have been 95-6 (93+?). The 1959 more than made up for the 1953. It had a spiny nose with lots of t ‘n a and a cleaner edge. There was also nut, grape and cassis – its fruit was very young and very fresh for its age, and the wine also had lots of oomph and finish, the biggest finish of the flight. There was lots of edar, earth and mineral flavors and a great, long finish. The palate was round and long and had it all fruit, finish and acid. It was an outstanding bottle (96).

From 1959 we went to 1982, and the 1982 we had seemed more Mouton or Heitz than Lafite, and Bryan noticed it as well. He went on to say how he had had it a dozen times and never like this, and I was probably the only one who could concur. The finish was enormous and the biggest of the night, and Bryan was really digging the wine, enjoying how it had ‘the yummyness of 1982’ and how it ‘may be atypical, but it’s a humdinger!’ He went on to call it the tastiest 1982 Lafite he ever had. It had big-time eucalyptus and flirted between excellent and outstanding. It is a great wine, but I am not convinced yet that it will reach that next level of greatness (95+). The 1986 had a pine sol/exotic flower tension in its nose with some other classic components on the palate but was overall disappointing. It was Lester’s least favorite of the flight, and I agreed. There were nice grape flavors and good tannins but more polished than I remember. It did kick into overdrive on its finish with time in the glass, but I need to revisit this wine again some time soon (93+). The 1990 had a beautiful nose, classic yet with good stink. This wine has always been one of Clive Coates’ wines of the vintage, and this bottle did not disappoint. The mouthfeel was rich; this was a high density wine. The palate was full of chalk, minerals, slate, hay and black fruits. It is an undervalued Lafite (95).

The final flight was composed of the ‘young bucks,’ beginning with the 1996. Now I have had an elusive ’99 point’ experience with this wine, but not on this night. It was still outstanding. The 1996 is one of my all-time favorite Lafites. ‘There’s a Lafite nose,’ I wrote. It had a touch of earth, the ‘pine spine’ and deep purple, grape ape fruit. There was also some buckwheat flapjack there, and the wine was rich and meaty. Tobacco and dirt were also present. The wine did come out a little cold and kept unfolding in the glass (96+). The 1998 gave me a first impression of earth, stink and expressive black fruits. The nose was a blend of Old and New worlds, but the palate was more Caliesque. I had flashes of Harlan and Maya without the power and balance. The wine seemed shut down with very little except tobacco and green bean on its finish. Someone said, ‘I could drink this tonight. It lacks complexity or delineation.’ Yup (90). The 1999 was more nutty with nice coffee, caramel and toast aromas. The wine was very Caliesque again. WHAT IS HAPPENING WITH MY BORDEAUX??? That’s all I am going to say on the matter. The wine was still very good but lacked oomph and verve (92). The 2000 had the most intriguing nose of the flight, eliciting an ‘Mmmmm’ out of me. The nose was very deep and layered with lots of coffee, smoke, cassis, herb, fresh green grass and great earth. The wine was long, balanced, smooth and gorgeous. The 2000 quickly put my paranoia to rest after the 1998 and 1999. Lester felt that the 1998 and 1999 were ‘overstuffed’ to make up for each vintage’s deficiencies. He also remarked how this last flight had ‘a uniformed style I couldn’t find in other flights. Admittedly, it was a closer range of years.’ I will leave you on that note.