This article comes to you from the archives of the lost year, 2004. About 75 other articles remain in the vaults from last year. I’ll have to save those for that elusive book deal. A recent cellar made me remember the event and pull it out of the safety deposit box to share.

The stars had aligned in San Francisco last Fall for a historical vertical of Jayer Richebourg, one of the rarest and most expensive Burgundies in the world today, one of the only wines to equal if not often surpass the price of ‘s Romanee Conti. We had two gracious hosts who had invited everyone as their guests for this incredible journey. I knew it was a heavy crowd when I introduced myself to someone and he replied, ‘Gordon Getty, nice to meet you.’ a close friend of mine and I flew up together from LA that morning for lunch; I believe it was a Sunday, after a couple of heavy nights of winebauchery. We were still ready, willing and able, of course.

Daniel Johnnes was there (of course) and led things off with an introduction about Henri and his wines. He said that Jayer’s wish was to make wines that were meant to be drunk; in that regard, Daniel said, Jayer does have a modern approach. 1948 was his first vintage, and Daniel called Jayer ‘true to his style from his first vintage to his last.’ Allen Meadows was there as well (of course), and he mentioned Jayer’s use of new oak. Richebourg is split into two subsections, one being ‘Les Richebourgs’ and the other being ‘Les Varoilles.’ Jayer’s vines are in the Varoilles half, which produce ‘more elegance’ than the vines across the way. His holdings are 0.36 hectares, roughly about an acre which could produce 100 cases maximum if yields were not kept low. So one or two barrels, 25 to 50 cases, is the norm. Jayer also destems, which a close friend of mine found tough to believe due to the pervasive dryness of some of the wines.

There were only three flights, organized chronologically except that the theoretical best vintages were saved for the final flight. There were seven wines in the first flight and six in each of the last two. The first flight showed how Henri is a master of making the most out of every vintage. We began with the 1987 H. Jayer Richebourg, which had a tight nose full of alcohol at first. There was some gamy Pinot fruit behind it with soft cherry, dry leather, good earth and a chip or two of semi-sweet chocolate. There was a lot of elegance and style. The palate was citrusy, taut with bright, citrus flavors and a soft finish that still had long acids. White cola emerged in the second go-around, but citrus held its grasp on the flavor profile and made me smack my lips more than once. It was a very good wine for 1987 (91). 1986 has been one of my sleeper vintages of late after having extraordinary wines from Roumier, Mugnier and Rousseau. I think this could be one of those vintages that fell off the radar, only to reappear twenty years later and become quite desirable. We shall see. I am working on a comprehensive 1986 event for 2006. The 1986 H. Jayer Richebourg was another excellent 1986. It was much more forward on the nose than the 1987 in regard to its fruit. The nose was very fragrant and had plum, blackberry and even a touch of boysenberry. There was light mineral dust and a core/spine of leather and cedar. The nose was exceptionally creamy, as was the palate, and the finish had excellent tension and balance. Tannins were present, the acids were good, and the fruit was nice with a hint of the same citrus found in the 1987. The wine got very Asian in the glass, flirted with an outstanding score, and held its length (94). The 1984 H. Jayer Richebourg had a mushroomy nose with a touch of vegetal earth but also nice rose aromas. There was a hint of cardboard that might have been cork. The palate had good structure and balance, but there were more cedar and leather components here, along with dirty flavors of mushroom, earth and garbage, for lack of a better word. You know, that Beverly Hills garbage. The wine was a bit stewed and had a small hole in the middle of it, but for a wine from 1984, which is about as bad a vintage as Burgundy has ever had, it was not bad at all, especially since it was 20 years old (87). 1983 is another ‘forgotten’ vintage with which I have had more good luck than bad over the past year or two. The 1983 H. Jayer Richebourg was very fragrant with sexy, sultry, sweet red fruit. There were supporting aromas of chocolate, caramel, carob and a pinch of brown sugar. Some overripe plums, right before they enter prune territory, rounded out the nose, which seemed to be on a faster evolutionary track. Then again, it was twenty-one years old, so fast is probably a bad word choice! The rich fruit carried over to the palate and flavors, and there was lots of grip here; the wine was surprisingly, very sturdy. The palate exploded more than any other of the previous three wines. The fruit held and remained very exotic, the finish stayed balanced and reined in, and its earth flavors exerted themselves on the backside. It was outstanding (95). The 1982 H. Jayer Richebourg had an intense nose as well with more classic, gamy, Burgundian fruit. It had stinky fruit in that good Burgundy way with lots of fresh vitamin intensity. One might say iodine. There was also good leather in the nose. The palate was quite wound, ‘very dry and stemmy,’ a close friend of mine noted, despite the fact that Jayer does not use stems. I agreed. The 1982 was a little kinder and gentler regarding its acids. The citric intensity crept out of its nose, and the palate was the longest of the flight so far. The citrus flavors were beautiful and not too tangy (95+). The 1981 H. Jayer Richebourg was another wine from a vintage that most people have written off by now. Its nose was shier with some alcohol and mineral aromas upfront. There was a touch of supportive, green stalk, a flash of plum and red fruits, and a light cedar edge. The palate was taut and on the citrusy side of the flavor wheel; red grapefruits, in fact. There was nice vim but less vigor here, but the wine was rock solid and in a good spot right then and there. a close friend of mine called it a thirty-minute wine, although I thought it held well for at least an hour. It was excellent for that first hour, but ultimately very good (92). The last wine of the first flight was the 1980 H. Jayer Richebourg. There were incredible caramel aromas, a home-made, fine caramel with a chocolate center twist. It dominated the nose. The palate was a lot drier than I expected with tight and dusty flavors. It was a tale of two wines the nose was amazing but the palate was tight, shy and unyielding; will it ever yield at this stage? Since this is one of Jayer’s personal, favorite vintages, perhaps the bottle was off. a close friend of mine complained about its ‘oak tannins, not fruit tannins’ (90+?).

If that was any indicator of what was to come, we were in good shape! And we were, indeed. We started flight number two with the 1979 H. Jayer Richebourg. It had a fragrant nose with ripe red and purple fruits black cherry, cassis and plum. It was very open and complex and had lots of cola as well. Someone noted how they ‘love 1979s’ as it was a ‘very aromatic vintage.’ A touch of brown sugar rounded out the nose. The palate was intense, full of acid and citrus. The wine was long and lingering but very taut, bordering on mean. That touch of brown sugar carried over to its rusty palate. The nose got very exotic and saucy, and the fruit became oily and pungent (94). The 1977 H. Jayer Richebourg had mint jelly jumping to my mind first, and it came with a side of lamb chops as it had a meaty, grilled quality as well. It was very aromatic with faded, dried rose and a touch of vitamins. The palate was rich and delicious with nice, earthy fruit and good grip and length. It was surprisingly good. Eric called it ‘a little harder on the finish,’ and a close friend of mine said ‘it doesn’t have the mid-palate of ’79.’ It got a little earthy and stinky, but mint flavors developed as well. What a show for a ’77! I think this is the only Burgundy I have ever had from this vintage, and it wore it well (93). a close friend of mine noticed the chapitalization in the 1976 H. Jayer Richebourg right away, and it did have a sweeter profile that almost flirted with banana. It was definitely different than the ’79 or ’77 with that sweet, masked quality. one of my fellow enthusiasts was definitely operating! The palate was round and fairly rich, with decent leather, but it seemed simpler by all the other standards already set (88). The 1971 H. Jayer Richebourghad a ’45 second finish’ according to Eric, who was liking it a lot. The nose was brooding, shy yet forceful. It certainly did not have the chapitalization of the 1976, but a close friend of mine was wondering if there was still a pinch of it here. There were black olives in the nose, along with good leather and a touch of sugarplum. The flavors had lots of brown sugar, cedar and earth. The finish was long and strong, and there were loads of tension still to the palate. The finish went on and on and on, but in a fine, distinguished way. Eric added, ‘it sits on the mid-palate and sinks in.’ Someone called it ‘foxy.’ It was the finest finish of the afternoon so far, by far. It was reserved and brooding, and its fruit got sweeter and plummier (96). The 1970 H. Jayer Richebourg was a Lichine label but still domaine-bottled. It was surprisingly open in the nose with the brown sugar, tobacco, earth and a touch of tomato stew. There was good t ‘n a, very secondary but noticeable; make that tertiary as coffee grounds were secondary. The palate was a bit clumsy in its earthy, dirty flavors, although there was good wood on the back side. The mid-palate had a tiny hole in it, and a touch of benevolent garbage flavors rounded out the palate (88). The 1966 H. Jayer Richebourg hinted at what I like to call ‘hubba hubba.’ Its nose had gorgeous fruit on the black and purple side with nice t ‘n a. There was a rugged, earthy edge. The wine was sturdy and very dry on the palate will it ever flesh out? Eric loved the wine and gave it an EG 98! The palate was rustic and earthy, and I kept waiting for the wine to come out of its shell and never quite felt it like Eric (or Allen, as I later found out), although it was excellent and still had more potential at age 38 (93+). a close friend of mine could not get over the stem thing and vowed to do his own stem cell research in the cellars of Jayer. That was the end of the second flight.

The third flight had all the big guns lined up, starting with the 1985. The 1985 H. Jayer Richebourg at first blew me away. It was supercharged and a ‘wow’ wine. a close friend of mine added that the wine was ‘very big.’ There was a pungent intensity inherent in the wine with a touch of cat’s pee, some varnish/turpentine (really its t ‘n a), black cherry and citric acid. Someone gave it an ‘oof,’ adding that it had ‘so much fat.’ There was huge intensity to the palate with lots of grip, acid and citric intensity, or ‘stem acids,’ as a close friend of mine continued on his march. The wine was fine, o so fine, but then something happened in the glass. It started to get a little flabby with some air and very candied. The oak came out more and more, and there was a quick, noticeable drop in character quality. The coffee came out, but the mid-palate went home. What started out as the wine of the day so far transformed from a beautiful swan into a, I don’t want to say ugly, but rather a confused duckling. The wine was still excellent, but it went from 97 points to (94?). It was one of the more rapid transformations I have ever seen in the glass for a twenty year-old wine. The 1978 H. Jayer Richebourg, one of my all-time favorite wines, picked up the slack and more than made up for the deflation of the 1985. The color was so dark and young, always a sign of a great vintage. Musk and vitamins took charge in the nose. Twists of citrus, rose and leather danced around the nose as well. The palate was huge, and the finish was humongous, monstrous and gargantuan as if it was King Kong amongst a herd of gorillas. Ok, I know it’s not herd, but I can’t remember the right word, ok? What is it, gaggle? Tribe? Flock? Any anthropologists out there, let me know. We found out that this bottle came directly from the cellar of Henri. There was a touch of cotton candy, and its fruit got meatier, and its vigor held. The wine kept redefining itself on its finsh; it was an amazing, amazing wine (99). The 1964H. Jayer Richebourg was a left turn as it was maderized, the first really ‘off’ bottle for the day. It happens (DQ). The 1962 H. Jayer Richebourg had an exotic, luscious nose full of exotic black and purple fruits, a sweet glaze, and not much more. ‘It’s Zinfandel,’ a close friend of mine cried, half-joking, yet half-serious. ‘A la ’83 Lafleur,’ he continued. The wine was very meaty, dusty and long on the palate, with excellent definition on the finish and a pinch of citrus. There were also flavors of banana bread, old dictionary and brown confectioners sugar, if there were such a thing. It was outstanding (95). The 1959 H. Jayer Richebourg, unfortunately, was corked (DQ). I have had a 99 point bottle of that before. There was one wine left, or so we thought. The 1957 H. Jayer Richebourg had a stinky nose with a bit of hay and diaper along with earth, tobacco, wet dog and mushroom. The flavors were rich and ripe, however, but also dirty and meaty with its brown fruit, leather and autumnal flavors. Gordon was impressed with the entire afternoon, calling them ‘all smashmouth wines!’ (92)

A couple of other 1985 Richebourgs made their way into the lineup at the end, beginning with the 1985 Meo-Camuzet Richebourg. The wine was incredibly pungent with a nose full of cat’s pee, earth, citrus, old book and leather. The wine was huge, pungent and intense on the palate as well with that great Burgundian stink. It was a style of wine not made for everyone; you had to like pungency and intensity, an intensity bordering on masochism. Bacon, game and vitamins all emerged in this crazy wine, one bordering on genius in my book (98). The 1985 Mongeard-Mugneret Richebourg held its own in the nose and was quite fresh and youthful. There were citrus, game and ham aromas. The palate was soft and easy, nice but not great, perhaps suffering from the unfair position of 21st wine of the day, especially when Henri had a hand in the first twenty (90)! Someone opened up a bottle of 2002 Chateau de Puligny Montrachet Montrachet as a ‘fresher-upper.’ There were lots of bananas in the nose, and the wine was amazingly exotic with its guava and mango. The flavors were banana bread, and it was a New World Montrachet, ‘too much and not Montrachet for me,’ Eric said. It still had a lot of character, even if it was Caliesque (92).

There was a lot of heated discussion at the end of the tasting. We were told that Jayer’s favorite vintages were 1980, 1985, 1978, 1959 and 1962 by a nose over 1961. Allen liked the 1962, 1978 and 1966 the best on this day; Daniel the ’62, ’66, ’57 and ’78. I am not sure if it was in order of preference or not. one of my fellow enthusiasts made a very controversial statement, not saying that it was a definitive one, but a statement in the context of the afternoon. He felt that as the vintages got older, the wines did not necessarily get better, whereas in Bordeaux it seems that the older wines always get better in a similar, vertical-styled tasting. Someone then said that maybe Burgundies get older quicker, and another said maybe old Burgundies are great ’60 minute’ wines, not meant to be consumed over long periods of air-time due to the fragile nature of the Pinot grape. Another was quick to jump to Jayer’s defense, citing the fact that many winemakers take decades to discover their true genius, and perhaps Jayer did not hit his stride until the 1970s, and that older bottles have more variation for Pinot than for Cabernet. Another stood up for the extraordinary quality in the lesser years like 1984, 1977 and 1957, to name a few. Larry Stone shared a quote from the incomparable Clive Coates, who called Jayer’s wines ‘too oaky and not substantial.’ Wilf admitted that he was also not in a state of adoration but was quick to point out how much he appreciated the wines and how amazing the off-vintages were as well. Daniel was an adamant defender of the wines, saying how perhaps his personal feelings, due to knowing Henri so well, entered into his judgment, but he was not ashamed to admit it.

Personally, I thought that from 1971 through 1987 the wines were extraordinary overall except for one or two wines, that’s for sure. The 1978 remains one of my all-time greatest wines, tasted twice with consistent notes. The 1962 and 1966 were no slouches either, and the 1959 was corked, so what can one do? I did understand a close friend of mine’s point in that the tasting did not build into a grand finale and that the 1978, being the wine of the day for many, stole the thunder out of the end. Nonetheless, it was an amazing afternoon, and many thanks to the generosity of Wilf and Eric and their willingness to share some of their amazing collections.

1995 & 1996 White Burgundy Retrospective Hosted by Steve Tanzer

Steve and I always do a white wine tasting together in June, and this year we decided to take a peek at 1995 versus 1996 in White Burgundy, taking pairs of select, top producers and comparing them side by side. Steve decided to do the tasting ‘single, semi-blind;’ ie, where you know what is in each flight but not specifically which wine is which, and that added an extra dimension to our perspective.

Steve was chock full of information to start. Most of this paragraph is notes from his intro. Steve initially referred to the 1985 vs. 1986 tasting we did last year, and how he still remembered how ‘green’ the last drop was. In fact, he said that he was starting to drink his red Burgundies younger and his whites older. The reason he was most curious to look at these vintages is the fact that in the mid-nineties, many producers changed their cork treatments in white Burgundy to a peroxide solution that has not always worked out for the best. As a result, many wines have this early-maturing, oxidized edge that is unnatural. I asked Allen about this the next night, and he did confirm there being issues there as well. So, we had another controversy floating around about Burgundies, but I was still hoping for the best in this retrospective and that this controversy was more of an exception than a rule. Steve continued that he originally thought 1996 to be one of the great vintages of his generation for white Burgundy before the tainted cork issue started to change his opinion. In 1995, there was a combination of high grape sugars (from the small berries) and low yields, which was especially important in the flatter vineyards; 1996 did not have this problem as the crop was 50-75% higher! Better fruit could be selected overall as a result. There were murmurs early on in 1995 about rot, and the malos were very late. The quality was a bit all over the place, but many excellent to great wines were made. 1996 had a quick and regular flowering (similar to 2004, Steve noted), and the summer was not that hot or sunny. The rainfall in late August triggered fears of rot and unripe fruit, but the sun returned in September for three weeks of straight brilliance, and the North Wind kept the nights cool and the acidity high. It was a large crop with strong acidity and the cleanest fruit seen in a long time. The best 1996s are still young; the only downside to 1996 was that the yield was too high, and some producersoverproduced.

We started with a flight of four wines, featuring the Colin-Deleger Puligny Montrachet ‘Demoiselles’ and Lafon Meursault ‘Charmes.’ We did not know the order in which they were served, though, although we obviously knew that there was a 1995 and a 1996 of each. The first wine had an exotic nose with some edges of banana flamb eacute;, cinnamon, sweet butter and musk. There was a touch of yeast and yellow fruits, a pinch of caramel and corn. The nose was fat and wide but seemed to lack a centerpoint of acidity. The palate was oily, rich and round with nice minerals on the finish, a touch yeasty with a dash of inner citrus peel. Again, that centerpoint of acidity was lacking a bit. Custard developed in the glass, and it did have ‘sweet’ flavors as a woman at my table observed, but it lacked lushness to its fruit. Steve found it ‘leesy and nutty like an old Champagne.’ The unintegrated acidity held the wine back from greatness, and it came across lightly bitter as a result. It was the 1995 Lafon Meursault ‘Charmes’ (91). Steve told us how Lafon has the best parcel of Charmes, which sits right next to Perrieres and has 40-65 year old vines. The next wine had a more buttery and richer nose, seeming similar in style to the first wine. It was also rich and buttery on the palate with caramel and banana flavors and aromas. The palate was also oily, with more acidity, just enough to hold it all together. There was light citric tension, slate flavors, and the wine was stonier and dustier. The acidity was there, but the wine could improve with more time and integration on the palate in this 1996 Colin-Deleger Puligny-Montrachet ‘Les Demoiselles’ (92+). Steve told us how the ‘Demoiselles’ vineyard was right next to Chevalier Montrachet and Montrachet and specially situated. The 1995 Colin-Deleger Puligny Montrachet ‘Les Demoiselles,’ served third in this flight, outshone its 1996 sibling. The nose was zesty and spiny with lots of great spice, bursting with yellow and white fruits, minerals, and ‘fairy’ dust as in a magical quality to the dust. There was excellent acidity here, although the wine was ‘back-ended’ on its flavor profile with the dust, chalk and earth components. There were still white fruit flavors, though. Steve found it ‘soft and broad’ with ‘perfect integration of acidity’ (93+). The last wine reminded me more of the third instead of the first wine even though it was the 1996 Lafon Meursault ‘Charmes.’ So much for inside info! There was excellent zest and spice here with an extra layer of honey and banana, and it was also loaded with white smoke, steam, minerals and more spice. The wine was very tasty featuring great balance and length. It had the best balance of the first flight, and there were great flavors of dust, minerals and rocks (94).

We crossed the border with our second flight and left those premier crus behind. It was an interesting pairing: the Chablis ‘Les Clos’ of Raveneau versus the Corton Charlemagnes of Verget. We all agreed that if we could not at least tell the difference between regions in this flight, then we should hang ’em up! Verget’s parcels of Corton Charlemagne varied between 1995 and 1996, negociant that he is. In 1995, he made a blend of two parcels from the original Delarche holdings, including a West-facing and an East-facing parcel. 1996 came from only the East-facing parcel. Even Guffens (owner of Verget) himself has confided with Steve that some 1996s are fresh, and others are oxidized, referring to the cork taint issue. Steve also told us that despite the hype about 1996 being the vintage of the century in Chablis, Raveneau prefers his 1995s at the moment. Ironically, in Chablis, things were opposite vintage-wise, and 1996 was the tiny crop! It just goes to show how minor distances in geography can make a major difference in vintage quality. The first wine in this flight was brilliant. It had a fabulous, Chablis-like nose deep, long and clean, full of anise and minerals. There were secondary white and yellow fruits and a sweet, smokiness overall to the wine. It was unmistakably Chablis with its starfruit, smoke and granite. The wine had awesome breed. It was a white wine with grip, encompassing the mouth with its round and rich texture and long, gritty finish. It was a classic; the only negative was that it was a bit unyielding in its greatness, not necessarily ready to be disturbed. It was Bryan’s favorite of the flight with its ‘dense core of unevolved fruit, long finish and lots of promise.’ It was the great 1996 Raveneau Chablis ‘Les Clos’ (96+). The second wine here had a more smoky, toasty and buttery nose, rich and oaky with an exotic banana-wax edge. The wine had a rich mouthfeel and was high in alcohol, which was somehow, still reined in. The wine was sturdy and very nice on the palate, more classic as its terroir took over, more classic than its exotic nose led me to believe. Steve noted the ‘great density and lift in the mouth’ in this 1995 Verget Corton Charlemagne (93). The 1996 Verget Corton Charlemagne at first seemed awkward. It was even smokier, oakier and toastier than the 1995 with the same kink as the 1995, except that it was more brutish and aggressive. It was also toeing the line with the oxidative issues to which Steve had alluded. The wine was rich yet clumsy at first, but with air it kept rounding out and growing, becoming very nutty. The power of the 1996 was amazing by comparison to the 1995, and ultimately it surpassed it, but the 1996 needed a lot more time in the glass before it was able to shake off its cobwebs and perhaps some cork taint. The 1995 may have been purer, but the 1996 was so powerful. Steve told us Guffens called 1996 ‘tight, high in acidity and young.’ Sounds good for the cellar (94)! Lastly, we were treated to the 1995 Raveneau Chablis ‘Les Clos.’ Again, there was that distinctively Chablis nose, but the fruit was sweeter with more yellow spectrums and floral edges. Sweet pineapple joined the party, as did wax. There were great citrus flavors and spice on the finish. Bob noted ‘brioche,’ and Steve ‘a fascinating, wild nose of orange oil, coconut and great acidity.’ The 1995 was much sexier on this night, but the potential of 1996 seemed greater. The 1995 did become more classic with time in the glass. Steve called Les Clos ‘the Montrachet of Chablis’ and ‘great value for Grand Cru white Burgundy’ (96).

The final flight had six wines in it, each of them no stranger to greatness: Ramonet Chassagne Montrachet ‘Les Ruchottes,’ Niellon Batard Montrachet, and Leflaive Chevalier Montrachet, Domaine Leflaive, of course. The first wine had serious spice to the nose with intense alcohol and a pungent, lit match edge along with citrus wax and an iceberg-like quality which was tough to put into words. The flavors were very rocky, and there was fat to its fruit, but overall the wine was shy on its definition. There were some secondary vanilla and sulfur edges and lots of earthy flavors on its finish. Steve loved the wine and its ‘green, truffly edge,’ but I was left a bit confused, respecting its raw materials but wanting more in this 1995 Niellon Batard Montrachet (93+?). The next wine had an amazing nose that was incredibly forward, practically leaping out of the glass. It was full of vibrant, bright yellow fruits and had a drop of honey with a lot of musk. The wine was very exotic and floral and also had great minerality. The balance and length were just short of outstanding, and its spiciness delicious. It was a great bottle of 1995 Ramonet Chassagne Montrachet ‘Les Ruchottes’ (94+), which flirted with an outstanding (95 point) rating. The 1996 Domaine Leflaive Chevalier Montrachet took no prisoners. Joe noted the signature ‘hazelnut and flint’ qualities of Leflaive. I called it ‘toasted nuttiness,’ and Steve chipped in ‘gunpowder.’ We were all right, and the combination of the three observations resulted in the classic, aromatic profile of Leflaive’s wines. The wine was incredibly smoky with great spice. The minerals and freshwater finish were very expressive; the finish intense and spicy. Steve found the wine ‘very sexy and graceful’ and more ‘exotic orange’ (96+). The fourth wine of this flight won the Miss Congeniality award for the night. It was very exotic with loads of wildflowers, bread, mint, sweet cream and caramel. The mint was a Ramonet clue, as his winesoften take on that characteristic with age. The palate was rich, forward and spicy, still young yet balanced and fleshy, meaty and rich with supporting menthol and mint. Steve pegged ‘macadamia’ and admired its ‘Grand Cru weight.’ The 1996 Ramonet Chassagne Montrachet ‘Les Ruchottes’ may not get better, but it will be drinking well for a little while, for sure. Man, those Ramonet ‘Ruchottes’ are great around age 10 (95)! The 1995 Leflaive Chevalier Montrachet was corked and (DQ). The 1996 Niellon Batard Montrachet was a special wine. The wine was smoky, exotic, oily and ‘dusty,’ Steve chipped in. There was a gorgeous floral quality, exotic orange and a ‘honeyed, buttery’ texture. The texture was superior rich, long, pure, beautiful amazing and superior. It is a magical wine (97). You can find more of Steve’s reviews on www.internationalwinecellar.com

Amoureuses Dinner with the Burghound

The following night found us at AIX on the Upper West Side with the Burghound, Allen Meadows, and a delicious assortment of Les Amoureuses, Chambolle Musigny’s most sought after and collectible vineyard. Allen has been a champion of the vineyard, feeling that it is one of three red (and one white) vineyards that strongly merit consideration for a Grand Cru upgrade. The others are Cros Parantoux in Vosne Romanee, Clos St. Jacques in Gevrey Chambertin, and Perrieres in Meursault. Due to politics, real estate taxes and the nature of inertia in the wine world bureaucratically, it will probably never happen, Allen reasoned. Even if they did get approved, some producers might not want to pay more taxes on their vineyards anyway! He said when an acre of Chevalier Montrachet is estimated at a worth of $30 million today, one can see how those taxes would add up rather quickly. Point made! Allen continued that Amoureuses is 5.4 hectares (2 frac12; acres per hectare), meaning about 15 acres. The thing that separates Amoureuses (and the other two red, Premier Cru vineyards just mentioned) from many other vineyards also is the fact that all the producers who have access to fruit right now are high-quality producers. So, not only is the greatness of Amoureuses due to the intrinsic quality of the terroir, but also due to the exceptionally serious grower community. Griottes Chambertin is another similar vineyard in that regard, he added. Cros Parantoux and Clos St. Jacques are even more extreme examples, as there are only three and five owners/producers of wines from each of those appelations! Allen was quick to point out, though, that none of his top ten wines of all-time come from any of these Premier Cru vineyards. Allen called Amoureuses ‘a more forward Musigny,’ a ‘Musigny-ette’ if you will, and said the main difference between Amoureuses and its Grand Cru neighbor is the structure and ageability. Amoureuses will age about 30-35 years, Allen said, and not much more usually. Amoureuses are good, middle distance runners. They will not hold as well as Musignys do. Allen continued on the topic of terroir. Clos de Beze was established in the 600s (as in A.D.), and the care and attention put into that vineyard over time is part of its terroir. Terroir is not just about land, he reasoned, and said ‘there is a cultural aspect to terroir.’ It was a brilliant observation, I must say. Allen is the most knowledgeable person about Burgundy that I know. If you love Burgundy and are not a subscriber, then you do not love Burgundy! His website is www.burghound.com

We did the tasting youngest to oldest, and the first wine was the 2003 G. Roumier Chambolle Musigny ‘Les Amoureuses,’ fresh off the boat, so to speak. Jefery of Los Angeles was here in New York and joined us, and he was impressed with its forward, ‘hedonistic’ qualities. Jef and I were instantly reminded of Steve’s comments the night before about 2003 being one of the hottest, if not THE hottest, vintages ever in the history of Burgundy. The nose was very musky and exotic full of sappy, black cherry and raspberry fruit. There was nice dust and light mineral components, but the wine was most definitely fruit driven, which most young Burgundies are not. The palate was chewy but marked by its youthful, alcoholic nature. Stems and edges of bitters were present as well. The wine was Caliesque (‘Cali Pinot’ Ray bah-humbugged later) in regard to its ripeness but still Burgundian in character and finish. The wine lacked layers, though, but perhaps that is a function of its youth and ripe fruit masking them (91). The 2002 G. Roumier Chambolle Musigny ‘Les Amoureuses’ had a much more classic nose with more tension, earth and vitamin. There was sexy, cherry fruit underneath that flashed like skin on legs. There was great character aromatically; the wine was deep and long, yet so refined and elegant. The wine kept sweetening in the glass and became a symphony of red fruits. The palate was huge, seemingly enormous for Amoureuses. It had a tidal wave of a finish with a crest of alcohol and a body of acid. We were in the presence of an outstanding wine here, full of character and length. It would ultimately be my wine of the night (96). The 2002 J.F. Mugnier Chambolle Musigny ‘Les Amoureuses’ had a beautiful, pure, gorgeous nose. It was super-feminine in style with a wintergreeny, cherried fruit quality; one could argue menthol instead of wintergreen. There was light earth and leather rounding out the nose. The wine was very tasty, voluptuous and long. It was not nearly as powerful as the Roumier but still beautifully balanced and exceptionally rendered (94). Allen had a few, interesting (of course) comments about the first flight. He called the 2003 Roumier ‘a well done 2003,’ adding that there are not as many of them out there as one would hope. He stressed that 2003 is NOT a terroir vintage, not that the vintage was completely devoid of terroir, but 2002s are much clearer as a reference. He then warned that 2002 was ‘still not a vintage to back up the truck and buy everything in sight.’ I might disagree based on the two we had on this night! ‘I prefer 2001s,’ Allen continued. You know what that means? Buy 2001s! Five or six years from now when the prices explode like the 1993s are now (another Allen favorite), don’t say I did not warn you!

The second flight started with a 2001 J.F. Mugnier Chambolle Musigny ‘Les Amoureuses,’ and I immediately saw some extra depth to this 2001 in comparison to the 2002 just before. There was more meat, fat, depth and breadth. Perhaps it was Allen using his Jedi force! Aromas of red cherry fruit, musk, earth and pinches of vanilla, nutmeg and cinnamon danced around my nose. There was nice spine to the wine; you had to dig to get to it but once you got there it was quite nice. The palate was big and brawny with lots of body, a touch rugged but still flirting with outstanding. The acids were long, great even, and the palate had excellent weight. The wine was just a touch brutish at this point, but the balance is there to suggest that in time it will be great. It was Rob S.’s wine of the night, and definitely at the top of my ladder as well. Allen cooed about Mugnier how understated it was, almost too subtle for most people, a little austere and not shouting at you. He continued that Mugnier makes a wine that requires you to meet it in the middle, and that you have to get to know it. He also cited D’Angerville as that kind of winemaker (95+). Back to Roumier we happily went, and the vintage was 2000. The 2000 G. Roumier Chambolle Musigny ‘Les Amoureuses’ was very musky with aromas of firewood, cedar, minerals and nutshells. There was excellent structure here, more so than I expected. The flavors were complex and in a slate, rainwater, dust and young rust direction. The fruit was good yet shy, and there was currently more fireplace and stem action. I was reminded of what my friend and known, Burgundian fanatic Don told me recently: when he is in the mood for something young, he reaches for a 2000 (92). The 1999 J. Drouhin Chambolle Musigny ‘Les Amoureuses’ had a shy nose, almost figgy and pruny but not in a cooked way. Upon further investigation, the wine also had smoke, tea and good wood aromas as well. The palate was tight and young with a great, vibrant finish that had lots of ‘pop’ in a rusty way. There was a nice, leathery intensity to its flavors; it was a complicated wine with a lot of personality. Bruce agreed that it had lots of personality as well as ‘direction’ (94). At this point, Bob quoted a famous ‘WC’ (either Fields or Churchill, but he couldn’t remember), saying ‘I only drink to keep my friends interesting.’ We were all amused at that one. Woodson then went into one of his tried and true theories, about how wine tastes/shows/is better on high pressure/low humidity days (ie, sunny and dry), as opposed to overcast, rainy, muggy ones. Ok, back to the wines the next wine was also a 1999, the 1999 J.F. Mugnier Chambolle Musigny ‘Les Amoureuses.’ It had a sexy nose with nice balance and still tension between its fruit and finish. There was bright fruit, lots of spine, earth and almost a benevolent glue. The palate was shut down, as most 1999s are, at least to me, a little screechy but hibernating. The texture and body were great, but the wine was super shy and reserved overall; it was like weight without mass. The flavors were nothing but rusty at this stage, but this should improve in time (92+). Allen took center stage again and spoke about the use of stems in Burgundy, and how many of the younger growers are shying away from using them, or only using 5-10% of them. Allen feels this is a grave mistake. He did cite Henri Jayer, however, as being very against the use of stems and quoted Henri once saying, ‘Have you ever put one in your mouth and liked it?’ However, look at , who uses up to 100% of the stems and indubitably makes the most ageworthy and complex wines in all of Burgundy. Yes, the wines are less interesting and enjoyable when young, but the tradeoff is longevity and complexity down the road. Sounds like a good trade to me! Allen also touched upon other vintages in Burgundy some more, saying ‘2002 is for wine lovers while 2001 is for Burgundy lovers,’ since the 2001s are transparent regarding their climate. He also went ‘sideways,’ most likely brought upon by a question or two from our eager group of attendees, saying how the Achilles heel of 1996 was the lack of mid-palate density, although the wines were transparent and pretty as well as the cleanest vintage of all time. 1999 was a ‘miracle’ vintage because there was high quantity and high quality. 1995 and 1998 both share a lot of similarities: both had rot, both didn’t ripen, and you needed vignerons that were ready to wait. The ’95s were much denser, he added. He continued that the density had to be there in order to use stems, that you have to have lower yields, and lower yields are where the dollars come in. Lower yields mean less grapes which means your wine has to be more expensive. Not everyone is willing to take that chance or make that sacrifice.

Flight number three began with another Mugnier, the 1998 J.F. Mugnier Chambolle Musigny ‘Les Amoureuses.’ It was a little wild in the nose with a touch of mildew and stew. It blew off a little but was still there. There was nice, pure cherry fruit behind it, smooth and supple and accompanied by a splash of strawberry and stems. It got muskier in the glass. The palate was very bright, long and smooth with a great, satiny texture. It still had a bright and spiny edge in that Amoureuses, subtle yet sensuous, way. That mildew edge, though, never left, so I had to wonder if we had a perfect bottle, as 1998 is a fabulous year for Mugnier (92+?). The 1998 G. Roumier Chambolle Musigny ‘Les Amoureuses’ left no doubt as to the quality of the bottle. ‘Mmm’ is how my note started off. The nose was deep with waxy, plummy fruit and that same ‘twinge’ that the ’99 Drouhin had. There was solid t ‘n a with a nutty intensity that blended into this Moroccan spice. A splash of vitamins rounded out the nose with an edge of cinnamon. The palate was very spicy with lots of rust, earth, minerals and light citric tension. The acid was rock solid in this excellent wine (94). The 1995 Comte de Vogue Chambolle Musigny ‘Les Amoureuses’ had lots of ‘black licorice,’ as Bob observed. It seemed simpler in the nose by comparison to all the Roumiers, Mugniers and Drouhins we’d been enjoying. There was some t ‘n a, meat, yeast and a plummy side to the fruit. The palate was broad, however, earthy, spicy and screechy. Jefery didn’t like the style, and there were some stewed flavors (but good ones), and lots of vitamins emerged in the glass (92). The 1995 G. Roumier Chambolle Musigny ‘Les Amoureuses’ had a touch of benevolent green bean at first, with wintry aromas and cinnamon. There was a touch of that rotten, stewed 1995 edge found in the Vogue; perhaps rotten is a bad word choice as it was not a negative rotten. It was a ‘Dirty, Rotten Scoundrel’ rotten like MichaelCaine or Steve Martin. The palate had nice leather and spice and was quite meaty and fleshy. There was a shot of vanilla extract there, and the finish separated it from the Vogue (93+). Rob S. generously brought a 1995 R. Groffier Chambolle Musigny ‘Les Amoureuses.’ Thanks, dude! Allen let us know that Groffier is actually the largest landowner in all of Amoureuses. Now why couldn’t it be Roumier? The Groffier had a shy nose, but it was consistent with the other 1995s. All the 1995s seemed to have the spice, spine and anise thing happening along with the rotten, meaty edge. The palate was sturdy with great balance and intensity. Long and sturdy with some green beans as well, the 1995 Groffier was very good, bordering on excellent (92+). Allen made a side comment as to why Bordeaux was more consistent: it is all about the quantity. If Roumier has two barrels of Amoureuses, he cannot declassify a barrel. The microscopic production levels of Burgundy wines make Mother Nature all the more powerful.

The fourth flight consisted of three 1993s, the vintage that ‘had it all,’ Allen cooed. ‘Naturally dense,’ it was ‘the best vintage since 1978.’ The 1993 J. Drouhin Chambolle Musigny ‘Les Amoureuses’ batted leadoff in this flight quite well. The nose was pungent and meaty with a touch of cat’s pee, meat, earth, citrus and ‘shine,’ almost like a varnish. Underneath, there was some red cherry fruit. The pungency stood out. The palate was rich, round, hearty and long. It was classic with its earth, leather and rust, all very primary. The meat, citrus and violet were secondary. The wine was bright with excellent tension (94). The 1993 Comte de Vogue Chambolle Musigny ‘Les Amoureuses’ was loaded with ‘cough syrup,’ as Jef keenly observed. The wine was very stewed, and it was tough to get past the cough syrup in the nose. The palate was better, mentholated but with great density to the fruit. The wine smacked of potential but was still a little sickly and stewed. I think the bottle was a bit off (91+?) The 1993 G. Roumier Chambolle Musigny ‘Les Amoureuses’ had a weird nose in that a) there was not a lot there and b) what was there was violet, nut, light caramel and some earth. The palate was long, smooth and satiny, earthy, rusty and dusty with traces of game. It was very fine and long, and its density was superior. Pure and sexy, it was a ‘wow’ wine on the palate (95). FYI, Ron and Bruce brought up (and obviously felt) the 1990 over 1993 point of view, but it was then counter-noted how even Aubert de Villaine actually prefers his 1991s to his 1990s.

The final flight was upon us, beginning with the 1991 Comte de Vogue Chambolle Musigny ‘Les Amoureuses.’ There was ‘diatomaceous earth’ action, ie living organisms in the earth. It had to be Allen to come up with that one! There was dark fruit full of vitamins and stewed fruit. The palate was bright but a little weird. It could have been another off bottle (90?) The 1986 R. Groffier Chambolle Musigny ‘Les Amoureuses’ had the classic, stinky, Groffier nose, with an aged twist. Beefy, wild and weedy, the wine was intense, rich and meaty with citrus and Worcestershire. It was fleshy and gamy in a good way, and often his wines rub me the wrong way (91). The 1986 J.F. Mugnier had a gorgeous nose silky, satiny and plummy with a shot of grape juice. There were Welch’s flavors, good acidity still, excellent balance and nice length. The finish was spicy, and the wine was rich and smooth. Those of you who remember my review of his ’86 Musigny V.V. know that 1986 was indeed a special year for Mugnier (93+).

I will leave you all with one last, wise comment from Allen: ‘Americans are too vintage-centric.’ That is for damn sure. Great producers make great wines every year. Some just have to be drunk sooner than others.

Notes from our own Dave Hamburger on Part III of our 2001 Blind, Cali Cab Showdonw

I actually missed our final showdown, Part Three, of our 2001 Blind Cali Cab tastings (BUMMER). About 50 Cab lovers were in attendance, and our own Dave Hamburger took charge and took some notes from the tasting, and he kept the final tally of all the votes. Everyone got five votes, first place getting five points and fifth place getting one. The wines were not revealed until all the votes were tallied.

Here are some brief observations from Dave, who is studying to be a Master of Wine, and the final results. It should be noted that Foley and Switchback finished in the top five for the other two tastings as well (Foley got two first places, I believe, and Switchback a definite second at least once). Bob Foley makes both wines, as well as Pride. He seems to have the magic touch of the moment and has catapulted himself into the select group of elite winemakers in Napa Valley.

1. 2001 Switchback Ridge Cabernet Sauvignon Peterson Family Vineyard
Very expressive aromas of black fruits, full bodied with a creamy texture. Very hedonistic and sexy.
104 votes

2. 2001 Robert Foley Vineyards Claret
Out of magnum. Very young still showing, hard tannins, full-bodied, dark fruits yet balanced and well structured. (Perhaps the magnum prevented a third, first-place showing – JK)
86 votes

3. 2001 Pride Mountain Vineyards Cabernet Sauvignon Reserve
A bit more closed then the Switchback but similar in personality, showed a bit more elegance.
58 votes

4. 2001 Merus Cabernet Sauvignon
Medium to full bodied, showed earthy tones and a bit of old world complexity, still excellent fruit on the palate.
51 votes

5. 2001 Harlan Estate Proprietary Red Wine
Still young, evolved greatly throughout the night. Obvious breed and character. Not as overt as Foley’s wines but more complex and sophisticated – a perfect mixture of new world power and Bordeaux style, great depth and structure. Longest finish of the night.
44 votes

6. 2001 Screaming Eagle Cabernet Sauvignon
This wine took a long time in the glass to open up; at first it was too earthy showing some old world funk. As this evolved, incredible aromas of licorice, minerals, red and black fruits emerged, along with a touch of old world leather.
43 votes

7. 2001 Colgin Cariad Proprietary Red Wine
This wine was the most exotically fruity of the bunch, The fruit was more citrus then black or red; it displayed an almost banana split ice cream kind of thing on the palate. An obvious crowd pleaser.
41 votes

8. 2001 Darioush Cabernet Sauvignon
In past tastings, this wine was more hedonistic and fruity; this time it showed more earth tones and was more on the elegant side.
27 votes

9. 2001 Paul Hobbs Cabernet Sauvignon Beckstoffer To-Kalon Vineyard
This wine was one of the most jammy and candied. The texture was round with low acid and fat ripeness.
23 votes

10. 2001 Lewelling Vineyards Cabernet Sauvignon Wight Vineyard
Also rich and ripe with lower acid, a bit short on the finish.
20 votes

11. 2001 Diamond Terrace Cabernet Sauvignon
This wine was more elegant; it showed good balance and was very St. Julien. Good structure and still young. Aromas had a hint of mineral and reminded me of the gravelly soil in Bordeaux.
19 votes

12. 2001 Schrader Cellars Cabernet Sauvignon Beckstoffer Vineyard
Very ripe and concentrated; a lot of flavor and fruit on the palate, showed a bit low acid, but was hedonistic and delicious.
15 votes

13. 2001 Stanton Vineyards Cabernet Sauvignon
High toned red fruits on the nose, cherry and strawberry, medium bodied. A wine of elegance and balance. Surprised it didn’t show better.
8 votes

14. 2001 Dalla Valle, Estate
Surprisingly in last place, yet the wine did not show well. It was disjointed and had excessive wood on the nose and an astringent quality.
1 vote

Top 100 2005 preview

The Top 100/All Star weekend 2005 is available for viewing on www’topwinesofthecentury.com There are ONLY FOUR SEATS LEFT! Let me know ASAP if interested, as it is sure to sell out soon.

Ok, this week’s write-up is chock full of recent events, thanks to a trip out to LA (I do a lot of my writing on planes), a holiday weekend, and the increased guilt of missing a couple weeks this month due to my recent Partypoker.com obsession. So let’s get right into it

Bruno Giacosa Lunch at Cru

This month seems to be an Italian one for me, with Monfortino a few weeks back and now these. There are other events already waiting in the wings to be written, but I figure let’s stick to Italy this week. There probably won’t be many more Italian write-ups in a while, so all you Francophiles can rest easier. The first and most spectacular event of this issue was a Bruno Giacosa lunch that we held at Cru on Friday, May 20th, the day before our incredible May auction. As all of you should know by now, Cru is my favorite restaurant in the entire country; no one can match the combination of amazing cuisine, fine wine and great atmosphere. Since there is no private room (yet), we were able to talk them into allowing us to do our version of a power lunch.

The first flight warmed us up with a trio of 1996s. The 1996 Barbaresco had a gorgeous nose with all the classic components of sweet cherry fruit, tobacco, leather, tar, anise and rose. Rob S. noted it was very bright. aromatically, but the palate was very dry. There was great grip there, but it was not overwhelming in its tannins. There were some tangy citrus and soy flavors, but the wine lacked definition in the middle and seemed simple by my Giacosa standards. This was the first AC wine I have had from him in a while, so maybe they are best in their first five or six years (90). The 1996 Barbaresco Santo Stefano. (not Riserva) was a jump up with its perfumed and meaty nose. You could see the extra layers, fatness and nuttiness right away. The meat, game and nut components to the nose were delicious. The wine was richer, rounder and more balanced than the regular Barbaresco, and the meat and game carried over to the palate along with some tar flavors. There was beautiful balance, tasty flavors and nice cedar, or as Rob put it, shop. flavors (93). Lastly, we had the 1996 Barolo Falleto Riserva.. We were most certainly in Barolo territory, with much more power emerging from its deeper and darker nose. Aromas of meat, nut, tar, tobacco, cassis and asphalt sang like a booming tenor from this deep and brooding wine that still remained very fresh. Rob called it a mouthful, and its finish crushed those of the first two wines. Minerals and vitamins rounded out its superior palate (95).

We weren’t messing around, as flight number two was one of Santo Stefano Riservas. The 1990 Barbaresco Santo Stefano Riserva. had a nose like wildfire with its brick, ash, cedar and leather components. Soy, nut, BBQ and Worcestershire were also present, and that last one was not a good sign in this case, as it started to become the dominant aroma with its BBQ and mesquite friends. The wine was very meaty on the palate and surprisingly smooth. Robin noted that it was almost like a Port, and there was a lot of chocolate and some anise, someone noted. Rob and I looked at each other quizzically and started to realize that this bottle was slightly affected. I have rated this wine as high as 97 points, and this bottle was clearly not 100%. It still had many redeemable qualities, but it was not what it should have been. Knowing how great this wine should be and usually is, I ultimately decided to (DQ) it. The 1989 Barbaresco Santo Stefano Riserva. was more like it, more wound and more my style, I wrote. There was big t n a (tannins and alcohol), racy minerals, anise, fresh glass, and more t n a. The palate was enormous with enough finish for a small house. It was still an infant and has enormous potential (95++). The 1988 Barbaresco Santo Stefano Riserva. was more forward and ripe with the nutty, leathery and gamy Nebbiolo characteristics taking center stage. There was also fireplace, brick, meat and soy. There were brown liqueur flavors that is best described as hedonistic and early maturing, a quality many feel is prevalent in a lot of 1988s in Italy (93). As I was speaking about drinkablity and how it seemed that the 88 was ready to go, Robin, who was there with some of her girlfriends, asked me What about husbands? When are they ready?. Husbands are always best within the first five years, I replied on cue, which got a big laugh, and a try two. from one of the gang. We quickly gathered ourselves in the presence of the great 1985 BarbarescoSanto Stefano Riserva.. This wine had the best of both maturity and youth, in perfect harmony right now. The leather, the game, the cedar, the meat, the truffle, the soy, the nut the palate was huge a la 1989, but much bigger than the nose led me to believe. The finish could best be described by the words a wallop of, with loads of tannins, alcohol, minerals, slate, fire and rock. The 1985 was definitely in a sweet spot and tickled me all sorts of ways (97). There was still one more wine to this great flight, the 1982 Barbaresco Santo Stefano Riserva.. The nose was the shiest of the flight, with faint traces of brick, tar, caramel and uncracked nuts still in their shells. The nose widened a bit in the glass, and the palate left no doubt as to its quality. The fireplace qualities were blazing on its wound and taut palate, which had tremendous breed and length. The tannins, alcohol, vitamins and minerals made a case that the 1982 was a balanced breakfast, indeed (96).

On to the 1990s, we went. The 1990 Barbaresco had a lovely nose, still very vigorous at first with solid t n a, in stereo with its meat, nut and leather qualities. The wine was smooth and satiny on the palate, balanced and long, just starting to plateau. It made a case for the 1996 being in a dumb phase, but I do not think that the 1990 will get any better than it is right now (92). T/he 1990 Barbaresco Gallina. had another seductive nose sensing a trend? There was chocolate, nut, fig, smoke and of course, leather, cedar and tar (that’s a given by now, I wrote). The palate was rich, meaty and long, the t n a rock solid, and the balance exquisite. The wine was still very vigorous, with a nice expression of fruit on the palate relative to the finish. Nutty flavors were there, and this wine flirted with an outstanding rating but ultimately fell a hair short. It was still great (94). The 1990 Barolo Villero. was almost exotically fruity by comparison to the styles to which we had become accustomed with its red, red, red profile of cherry, tomato, and cherry tomato. Musk, jasmine and exotic spice rounded out its kinky nose, and the palate was also great long, screechy but in control with its classic flavors of cedar, tar, leather and meat (95). The 1990 Barolo Falleto Riserva. again showed who’s boss. My notes started out with the universally accepted Ooooooooooooo, plus or minus an o or two. It was very nutty in the nose, in an oily way this time, and was very rich and almost creamy. The palate was enormous, especially the concentration of fruit. The oily texture of the fruit was amazing and really left an impression. The nose got more and more complex, and the wine had great t n a. The palate was so f.ing delicious, I put. Sometimes, less is more when it comes to the pen. It was beefy and oily with traces of toasted brown sugar. Yum (97). The last 1990 was handicapped since it was accidentally served behind the Falleto Riserva. Oh, well, there was nothing we could do except taste it and see for ourselves. The 1990 Barolo Collina Rionda Riserva. had the classic aromas of nut, tar, anise, leather, meat, t n a and a pinch of exotic fruit soda in there. The wine was more gamy on the palate than its other 1990 Barolo counterparts, smooth, long and pleasant but after the Falleto it just did not seem to cut it at first. It did gain in the glass with time, come out and become more rugged (94+).

Two more flights to go, and the heavy breathing started to commence. In and out The 1989 Barolo Falleto Riserva. also required a lot of oxygen and got another Oooo. out of me, but only four o’s this time. The nose was super intense and wound with loads of t n a, more t n a and some nut, cedar and a chocolate/molasses combo. It was piercing, spiny and deep, delicious on the palate, backside heavy with a great finish in reserve (95+). The 1985 Barolo Falleto Riserva. was unfortunately affected, more mature than it should have been, although again there were many redeemable qualities. At this stage in the game, though, I was not trying to figure it out (DQ). The 1985 Barolo Rocche. was solid tasty, easy, leathery, smooth, rounded and gamy. It got a little better in the glass but seemed to be at its peak (91). The 1982 Barolo Collina Rionda Riserva. was very forward, with baked beans and a white sugar, mint julep quality. It was long, smooth and dry on its dusty palate, and the nose got incredibly nutty (93).

There was a trio of 1978s at the end, but unfortunately, I was toast by this point. I now know that my limit for glasses of Giacosa in the afternoon is seventeen. The 1978 Barolo Collina Rionda Riserva. was corked, the 1978 Barolo Rocche. got a WOW. from me about its nose and Slover couldn’t stop talking about the 1978 Barbaresco Santo Stefano Riserva.. Unfortunately, that sums up that flight. With an auction the next day, I retreated back to the office a little cross-eyed yet still bushy-tailed. It was quite an afternoon.

The 2001 Gajas with Angelo

With Angelo Gaja himself in New York City a few weeks ago and all this talk about 2001 being better than 2000 in Piedmont, I decided to hop over to the Four Seasons Restaurant in the afternoon and take in the 2001 Gajas and see what the man himself had to say about 2001 and wine in general.

Founded in 1859, the Gaja winery in Barbaresco has been owned and operated by four generations of the Gaja family. With now over 250 acres of vineyards in Barolo and Barbaresco, they recently acquired two estates in Tuscany, Pieve Santa Restituta (Montalcino) and Ca. Marcnada (Bolgheri). All Gaja wines are exclusively made from grapes grown in estate-owned vineyards. Angelo has been responsible for not only numerous innovations in Italian winemaking, but also for elevating the stature and international reputation of Nebbiolo. For this, all of Piedmont will be forever in his debt. Soon enough, I will go into detail about the things that Angelo said himself which make for fascinating reading.

We started with the 2001 Sito Moresco, an equal blend of Nebbiolo, Cabernet and Merlot. I found the wine harsh, rustic, high in alcohol and rough. I suppose it could flesh out, but it was very rough at the moment (86+). Not to worry, the 2001 Barbaresco was next. The nose was pretty with soft red fruits marked by playful spice and leather. It was inviting with its delicate, feminine charm (delicate and feminine by Italian standards, I should say!) There were nice, secondary aromas of earth, more layers of spice and a splash of tar. The core of red fruit stayed. The wine was very youthful, high in alcohol and firm with lots of bitter tannin flavors (the bitterness of youth). One could sense the seriousness of the wine(s). The wine got dusty in a Wild West way in the glass to go with its spine, spice, leather and pitch. The sandy and leathery flavors dominated in this youthful stage, and the finish sparkled with its minerals and acidity (92-3).

The 2001 Costa Russi. can no longer be called Barbaresco because it is 5% Barbera. The same goes for the Sori San Lorenzo and the Sori Tilden. Obviously, Gaja dos not care. His name and the names of his vineyards mean far more than the designation of Barbaresco. Indeed, he is larger than life when it comes to the world of Italian wine and its governing laws. The 2001 Costa Russi had a deeper nose than the Barbaresco with much more flesh and presence of fruit black, purple and red were all neck and neck in a three-way race for most present. The nose also contained sand, leather, minerals and a kink of petrol. Black roses came to my mind as I prepared to taste, and the palate delivered tremendous power. The tannins, alcohol and acidity were all very present; in fact you could not ignore any of them. The wine was razor sharp yet big like a boulder. There was lots of earth, plummy fruit, coffee grinds with a hint of mocha and meat on the bones of this well-bred and built 2001 (94+). The 2001 Sori Tildin was next, which surpised me as I always thought it was the big boy of the three cuvees. Regardless, the Sori Tildin had a spinier nose than the Costa Russi with less fruit and more sand, leather and dust. There was still some fatness to the wine, however, and some red fruit, chocolate and black licorice emerged with heavy coaxing. The palate was hotter, more wound, spicier and lingering yet less approachable than the Costa Russi. The acidity was spine tingling, I must admit. This will be a great wine (96). The 2001 Sori San Lorenzo seemed to have the best of both the Costa Russi and the Sori Tildin. There was great balance in the nose with a touch more yeast (positive) to go with its black rose fruit, leather and earth. Its plumminess really seeped out with time, and the nose became sappy and rich, round and literally dripping with fruit. The palate was much tighter and rugged; hot, alcoholic, spicy and rocky. The wine was the biggest of the three, after all, but also the squarest on the palate, but the nose made me think that something special was happening here (95+).

It was after tasting through these three wines that Gaja decided to speak. Well-versed in English, he spoke in a style that was open, honest, warm yet firm. It was as if E.F. Hutton had entered the room. He started off by discussing his fundamental principles. One, all quality wine must be estate-bottled, and good land is necessary to make good wine. Two, one must respect the dignity of the wine, not only the land and varietal but also the climactic conditions each and every year and NOT bottle everything when Mother Nature dictates so and NOT to be afraid to declassify your best vineyards and sell of the juice to other negociants in those years that are more difficult than others. 2002 was a perfect example. It was not an easy vintage, and they kept waiting and waiting for Mother Nature to give them something late in the Fall, but the rains came instead, and the wine did not meet Gaja’s standards. As a result, they did not bottle any of the aforementioned five wines. 1972, 1980 and 1984 were other years that the same was done. Gaja spoke about the recent vintages and called 2000 and 1997 approachable;. 2001 and 1998 approachable but not like 2000 and 1997;. 1999, 1996 and 1995 need time. They will be the most classic and have impeccable balance for long-term aging.. Funny, those are the vintages that are good buys at the auction right now, and 1999 is almost a forgotten vintage already! He also stressed the importance of an operation having one vision and one mind, which is why he never did a joint venture with anyone. He told us the story about how Robert Mondavi had approached him in the early 1990s, and how he almost accepted. He was obviously very fond of Mondavi, whom he called, a great man who gave credibility to California wines.. Obviously, their paths are somewhat linked in their respective regions. He went on about how they had a first meeting in New York, and when he walked into the room, there was Mondavi with a team of advisors and lawyers and how he was slightly embarrassed that he came to this meeting unprepared for such serious discussions. He continued that a joint venture is like a wedding. You must have complimentary characters, reciprocation and share a dream. You must also have good sex, literally for the wedding and figuratively for the joint venture. I am a mosquito with my 300,000 bottles. Robert is an elephant with 25,000,000. How can a mosquito and an elephant make love?. In the end, this is why he politely declined. The whole experience, however, made Gaja start to think differently. He was flattered and started to ask himself why shouldn’t he expand and increase production a bit? That is how his involvement in Tuscany was born and eventually led to the purchase of the two estates in the mid-nineties.

He also told us some stories about industry pioneers like Frank Schoonmaker and Bill Sokolin. He remembers meeting Frank for the first time and how Frank wanted to buy all of his 1961s, which Gaja found arrogant and pretentious at first. He also did not like the idea of having to put a Frank Schoonmaker Selection. strip label on all of his bottles, either. It was his selection, after all. He remembers the wholesale (his) price of the 1967 being $0.75 a bottle, and how Bill came knocking looking to place a 100 case order, but get it half-price, of course. The answer was no. There were missed opportunities, but others came, he reminisced.

He said that Costa Russi is normally the most approachable of the three cuvees, that Sori San Lorenzo is normally the longest aging, and how Sori Tildin was named after his grandmother, whose nickname was Tildin, but no one dared to call her it even grandpa! He affectionately went on to describe his summers with grandma in Barbaresco, and how she never smiled and was always correcting his behavior and homework. She was a strong character and influence in Angelo’s life, instilling a discipline in him that he carries with him to this day. In regard to the 2001s, he said that these were wines that needed time to be completed. and that in eight to ten years, they would be fantastic. He admired the soft, noble tannins of 2001. More from Gaja later

We continued with his two Barolos (again a small percentage of Barbera does not allow Gaja to call either of them Barolo. The newer 2001 Conteisa had a deep, layered nose full of dark blue fruits, nut oil, grape, plum and musk with hints of modernity and less of the leather/sand/tar typicity of the Barbarescos. It was still far from a modern wine, but it did have a whiff of cult Cabernet in it, a la Harlan or a quality of the sorts. The palate was surprisingly round and forward, and its finish a touch light despite good acidity. It seemed like an early bloomer and lacked the stuffing of any of the Barbarescos. Perhaps Angelo is still getting a feel for the property and vineyard and needs some time to get his signature on this estate (92). The 2001 Sperss was very tight in the nose with only hints of aromas, but those that were there were more classic in style. Tar, leather, darker, blacker fruits, spice, sand and hints of vanilla were all late to the party unfolding in the glass. The wine coated the mouth with balance; the fruit and finish had great symmetry actually. There were classic flavors and good spice despite its chunky personality, and good acidity on the finish (95).

The Darmagi, 95% Cabernet, had a funny story behind it. Angelo was always fascinated with Cabernet and ended up being one of the pioneers of the grape varietal in Piedmont. There was this vineyard next to the house that had been torn up for replanting by his father. After seeing the vineyard manager’s work, his father looked over the vineyard and cooed how we will make excellent Nebbiolo here.. In January, Angelo’s father went away for two months before the vines could be planted. Well, Angelo had something else in mind and had Cabernet planted instead. Of course, his father never liked the wine. I guess some people in the Gaja family know how to carry a grudge! In fact, the wine is named after what his father said when he found out what happened. Darmagi. translates into what a pity. in Italian! The 2001 Darmagi let us know right away that Cabernet was in the house. There was classic cedar and cassis there (classic for Cabernet, that is), but with the Italian earth, sand and leather behind it, the terroir. It was very fragrant on the fruit side, almost perfumy. The wine was round, rich, spicy and balanced on the palate with charcoal flavors (93).

We ended with the two Brunellos from 1999, since that was the most recently released vintage. The Brunellos do not say Gaja on the wine as the producer; they have kept the Pieve Santa Restituta name. The 1999 Rennina was a left turn as we headed south to Tuscany. The nose was bready with light leather and some sundried, meaty fruit, red in nature yet earthy in its personality. There was an autumnal center/edge (one or the other), perhaps its wood components. There was also vanilla, boat interior and old paint. There was a gamy flavor with old wood edges. It was surprisingly approachable and tasty but less powerful than I expected. The wine still had grip but was without much length (91). I much preferred the 1999 Sugarille, which had more pinch and less game to the nose. The wine was richer and longer with more fat, chewy, red leathery fruit and a sprinkle of cotton candy sweetness/sexiness. It was more classic and mountainous in style with its tasty, meaty, cherry flavors (94).

Angelo summed things up by stressing how all of us should see how the wines were evolving in the glass, which is particularly important in young wines. He spoke of Europe being the cradle of wine, and the wine revolution.. We were all about terroir in Piedmont, he said, and looked down upon Tuscany forget about Southern Italy, but a revolution started, and started in the U’s. Things like using stainless steel to control temperature during fermentation, the use of small barriques and the experimentation with grape varietals helped vineyards everywhere in the world. Speaking of barriques, he went on to say how many producers overoak their wines when using barriques, but that they can be used effectively and that many producers have improved their use of them with experience. In the U’s., there is one Robert Parker. In Italy, everyone is a Parker because everyone is an expert!. (If you know some headstrong Italians, you know of what he speaks, right Big Boy?) He introduced his daughter, Gaia, who has been involved in the business full-time for six months. In fact, this was the first, major, commercial tasting that he has done with his daughter by his side. He said their vision is to keep things the same as they are now, but if his daughter has more vision to expand the operation later in life, so be it. She has his blessings.

There is a lot of confusion in Italy, he reasoned. It comes from Parliament and the Vatican with a German now as the Pope, who knows?. That got some laughs. But confusion in Italy, it works. All the different wines are good; we must maintain confusion in what we do..

I got to say hello and shake Angelo’s hand at the end. It was truly an honor and privilege to hear him speak and taste the 2001s with him present.

A 2000 Barolo Tasting with RP in Vegas

The last time I was in Vegas (I did not go again!), there was a tasting of 2000 Barolos hosted by Robert Parker at Valentino’s in the Venetian. Parker was his usual, charming, warm and endearing self and was a great host for the event, full of anecdotes and personal stories that made the dinner a real pleasure. However, halfway through the event I found out the wines were opened about eight hours before the event! This was not Parker’s decision, I must add, but it makes for an interesting point of discussion about aeration. This was my first major experience with the 2000 vintage in Piedmont since wines of this level I usually have when they are older. I was thinking to myself how soft, supple and charming the wines universally were, and it all came together when I found out how much airtime they had. Now, the wines were probably drinking as well as they could have due to the extra airtime. All signs of bitter youth, overt tannins, alcohol or acidity had melted away into Father Time. However, I feel that given how rare it is to evaluate wines with this much aeration, by opening up these wines so much in advance, it gave a skewed perspective on the vintage for me and many others and made the 2000s seem less vigorous than they probably are. Therefore I have a tough time putting definitive scores on these wines. All the wines were quality and still showed very good (90-2 points) to excellent (93-4 points), with a couple of outstandings as well. The standouts were the 2000 Sandrone Barolo Cannubi Boschis. and 2000 P. Scavino Barolo Bric del Fiasc, which both managed to get (95) points from me, but might have gotten more with less air, who knows? My notes on the Sandrone read: Grapy nose the fruit, seed and oil and nuts, why not? Very expansive and chewy fruit in the nose like the Gaja, and the plummy side really comes out. It has a perfumed quality unmatched so far and great structure the longest of the night but still somehow fine. In between modern and traditionalist, RPkicked in.. For Scavino: Intense nose with lots of anise and alcohol, along with animal, leather and fat fruit. Rich, long with great structure and balance. Long, smooth but firm. Sandy, sturdy, charcoal flavors.. The 2000 Giacosa Barolo Rocche del Falleto. and Corino Barolo Giachini. were right behind them, and then there were the rest. I just don’t feel that my notes are in the same context that I consistently review, so it would be askew to get into a full, in-depth review. Sorry.

Some tidbits from RP: he called Nebbiolo the Pinot Noir of Italy. and La Morra the Pomerol of Barolo.. He reminisced about growing up around bourbon, not wine, and how he had to give away issues of the Wine Advocate for free when he was starting up the newsletter just to get the word around (I know that feeling!) He called wine the greatest gift Mother Nature has given to mankind, and how 98% of the wines produced in the world don’t get any better.. He called Barbera Piedmont’s version of a bistro wine. that does not improve much with age. He made a great point how all of Barolo is only 3000 acres, which is the equivalent of one chateau in Bordeaux. You are always a student, when it comes to wine, he mused. Each new vintage you have to go back to school and learn again.. Here here.

A Celebrity Death Match: 1989 Clinet vs. 1978 Bruno Giacosa Barbaresco Santo Stefano Riserva. at Alto

An old, wine-loving friend of mine, who had moved to Hong Kong a couple years ago, was back in New York for the week with his father and stunning, new Indonesian girlfriend, so we all headed to Scott Conant’s new place off Madison Avenue, Alto. I have a feeling you will be hearing more from me about this restaurant in the future. The wine list is tremendous and very fairly priced, and Scott is one of the great, young chefs of my generation.

A celebrity death match for wine is when you have two different types of wine for dinner, two types that really have no relation to each other outside of the fact that they are (hopefully) quality. I suppose it could be done with a Beringer White Zinfandel and a Sutter Home Chardonnay, but you get the idea. So, Dave’s dad brought the 1978 Giacosa and ordered the 1989 Clinet off the list, as Alto has a one-bottle maximum corkage policy. Anyway, it is always good form (in New York at least I know California people think differently and feel BYO is a right of passage) to order at least one thing off the list when BYO-ing.

We started with the 1989 Clinet, which had a sexy nose. It was shy at first but still incredibly intense in an alluring way, kind of like the veiled woman waving her finger at you, partially behind the curtain. (Ladies, insert your male fantasy here). Its mineral and earth components were singing out of the glass, forward but not shrieking, sprinkled over the top of some lightly covered-in-chocolate, plummy fruit. There was also a caraway-ish edge in its earth aspects, but it wasn’t exactly caraway. The palate was also a bit shy but still delicious with its plummy core, nice cedar edges and twist of non-citrus tang (good earth as well, of course, as that was the dominant characteristic on this night). The palate was satiny and silky, smooth and fine, long and lightly gritty. It was still a baby and lingered well, but it was far from the winegasm that others have had over it (94).

As fate would have it, Dave Sr. brought a 1978 Bruno Giacosa Barbaresco Santo Stefano Riserva, the same wine that I would not have the energy to take a note a couple days later! We sampled bottle number #565 out of only 4,536. The nose was the kind of nose that makes a great wine seem average. Dave was in awe of how much was going on. The leather, tar, soy, black fruit and anise quintafecta was astounding. There was great spice and gamy fruit on the palate, which bordered on being hot. There was big-time rose in the nose as well. The wine was intense without being screechy but still had lots and lots of alcohol, which fortunately smoothed out with time, giving a silver streak of an impression. The spice got more and more exotic in this amazing wine (96+)

The Clinet put up a good fight but was no match for the Giacosa in the end. That’s the way the Clinet crumbles.

By the way, that ’45 Romanee Conti I had the other week was a (99+), for those of you that were wondering. It is my first 99+ point wine; the wine was so good it made me redefine my personal envelope of wine greatness. We will taste two bottles again from the same batch at my ‘Top 100/All-Star Weekend’ next October here in NYC. In fact, that event will be made public this week. I expect very few seats available by the time last year’s participants have their say, but I am sure there will be a few, so if you are interested and have not already let me know, I suggest you do it immediately, as in right now. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!

As luck would have it, Roberto Conterno happened to be visiting New York City around the time of our last scheduled Angry Man event, so I brought the two superpowers together for an amazing and historical evening of Monfortino, arguably Piedmont’s greatest wine. Wendy was our hostess extraordinaire, the one ‘Angry Chick’ in our group, and she put together an amazing meal at Lattanzi’s in midtown Manhattan. Roberto came with a translator, although much of the (mis)translation was done by our own Italian Stallion, ‘Big Boy’/Angry Man Roberto. This proved entertaining and at times a bit frustrating for Mr. Conterno, who we found out had a little Angry Man in him himself!

We started with a frankly disappointing bottle of 1964 Dom Perignon ‘Oenoetheque.’ The nose was complex, with ‘white toast fresh from the toaster,’ as Ray put it, and there were also additional, exotic aromas of vanilla bean and custard. The bread quality became soaked lightly in marzipan, and there was also nut and honey. It was smooth and round on the palate but did not have any acidity. The sweet flavors of white corn and caramel were not enough to overcome the lack of every Champagne’s most important characteristic: acidity. Therefore, it seemed flabby on the palate but was still complex and exotic enough to score (91), but it was more like a wine (still without acidity).

We started auspiciously with a maderized 1968. The wine still had a beefy and bouillon-y style to it and great acidity. Its mushroom, earth, leather and cedar were noticeable, as was blood and iron. Roberto commented how the maderization process is a three-step one, and how this one was not in the totally dead/third stage of being maderized, and he was right. There were still tannins and acidity, he explained, and also pointed out how some people actually like a wine in this stage. I totally saw what he was saying but still had to (DQ) it. The 1974 Ray was convinced was corked, but I didn’t get it that much and am usually quite sensitive to the affliction. Of course, those of you that know Ray know that Ray is always right! Nonetheless, I enjoyed its spine of leather and cedar with supplemental tar, roses and earth. There was also very good acidity and tangy flavors with some earth underbrush and dust. It was a very good but not great Monfortino and had nice traces of citrus, lit match and almost butter (92). Roberto told us that the 1979 was very hard to find because it was so good and drinkable upon release that everyone drank it up! Ray was loving it and playfully jested that ‘it blew the corked and maderized wines away.’ That was pretty funny. The nose was intense and very complex; there was a lot going on. There were lots of t ‘n a, great minerality, anise, black rose, beef, chocolate, iron and slate. It was a regal wine. It got the universally accepted ‘Wow’ by the Angry Man Roberto, aka ‘RR’ aka ok, that’s enough. The palate was big, beefy and meaty and full of cedar, tar, mineral, smoke and Cuban cigar flavors. It was chewy and long (95+). Someone asked Roberto about the significance of ‘Riserva’ vs. ‘Riserva Speciale’ on bottles of Monfortino, and the answer was absolutely nothing. ‘There is only one Monfortino,’ he said in English, and we all understood that loud and clear. The production of Monfortino averages only 6-800 cases a year, and Conterno makes about 4,000 cases in total on an annual basis.

The next flight began with a controversial 1937 Riserva Speciale (the only non-Monfortino wine of the night). In the end, it wasn’t as controversial as it was when everyone first saw it, because the color of it was horribly pale and light brown and looked more like a Sherry. The color was a tea rose and made everyone nervous, but the nose was actually very good with its perverse aromas of caramel, nut, tea and ‘parmesan cheese,’ as Ray put it. I told Ray that that was just Mike. Ha ha ha. There were lots of chocolaty flavors, and there was no doubt that the wine was more than fully mature. It was still smooth and very good. We found out that Giacomo was Roberto’s grandfather and responsible for the first vintage in 1920. I have never seen a bottle of Monfortino from the Twenties myself. Who out there’s got one? Back to the 1937, Ray caught some ‘pine needles,’ and Mike found it ‘all together.’ (91) The 1943 was in the third stage of maderization and undrinkable (DQ). The 1961 more than made up for it with its great nose that was both young and mature. It had the vigor and alcohol of youth but nutty, mature fruit as well as bouillon, chocolate, tar and rose. It was tasty, meaty and deep (95).

The 1969 had a stinky nose with a lot of horse, shit of the earth and some rose barely behind those with a touch of green. The wine was much better on the palate, containing a lot of ‘sour cherry’ and having a nice mouthfeel. It was very rounded, rich and earthy. It was one of the few wines whose nose was unpleasant (at least to me), but the palate was still very good (92+). The 1970 had a beautiful nose and ended up being one of my wines of the night. It was inviting and deep with its classic nose, and the palate was enormous yet somehow smooth. The fruit was mountainous with loads of beef and chocolate; thick, long and outstanding (96+). The 1971 was very good but disappointing in the context of other bottles of Monfortino I have had from this vintage. There was a touch of coffee and watermelon (I swear) in its exotic fruit. Cedar and anise (some of the usual suspects) were also there, and the nose was beautiful, more silky and feminine, satiny and smoother (94+). This flight probably saw the widest range of different opinions than any other flight of the night. It was at this moment of increased discussion that a whole, ‘nother discussion emerged, so much so that it deserves its own paragraph

Roberto thought that the 1971 would age the longest, but the 1970 took the limelight on this night, as it was more open and ‘took over all the mouth,’ as he put it. Speaking of tannins, Roberto went on to insist how they only use the tannins of the grape, finding tannins from the wood less important and in essence, less real. ‘A long maceration is very important to get the tannins of the grape,’ he said. ‘Alcohol, acidity and tannin are the three important things for aging, and the ’69, ’70 and ’71 have it.’ There were no arguments there, and when that is the case when you are with the 12 Angry Men, you know it is the truth! ‘It is difficult to pick a favorite,’ someone said. The fact that a 1989 Monfortino was never made came up, and the fact that all of the Monfortino went into the Cascina Francia that year. Speaking of which, how come Conterno’s ‘other’ Barolo gets so little attention. Conterno’s Cascina Francia is an amazing wine in its own right, but everyone seems to forget that fact. Don’t! Roberto told us that in 1974, his father bought the Cascina Francia vineyard and went on to give respect to his mother, ‘a pillar in Piedmont’ his French translator reasoned (she spoke Italian but was French interestingly enough). The story from Roberto was that his father went to his mother and said what are we going to do to increase business, and his mother reasoned that owning the land from which they made wine in Serralunga was the answer. Why? 1) To be able to get better fruit from the oldest of vines, to nurture and pay attention to these vines better, and to not be forced to buy random levels of qualities of fruit altogether, as many negociants offer the best of their fruit mixed with lesser quality fruit. 2) At the time, Cascina Francia was selling to other growers, so by buying the vineyard they would have exclusivity to its fruit and have a brand name with the vineyard. This is how they would make better wine and increase prices and business at the same time. Roberto continued about some of the philosophy behind how his family has made wine over the years. The last fifteen days before harvest, he stressed, are critical. In the vineyard, you can see where the grapes are best; these places also change every year. They choose the best grapes to go into Monfortino. The wine is born in the vineyard and spends a minimum of seven years in a giant 5000-liter oak barrel (sometimes a smaller, second barrel for any spillover depending on quantity of wine) before release. They bottle in July and release in the Fall when they are ready to release. The average age of the vines is 45 years.

The next flight was one a great one: 1988, 1990 and 1993. The 1988 seemed like a whole, new world as we entered a more youthful stage of Monfortino. The wine still had its baby fat in its nose and was nutty, almost syrupy, with lots of black fruits, tar, cement and peking duck. The wine was much heavier in its tannin and alcohol expressions, and the fruit was dominated by cassis and grape. After having all those older wines, this flight was definitively youthful. Roberto found the 1988 to be the ‘most complete at the moment.’ He then continued how 1988 was a disastrous vintage at Giacomo Conterno because it was the year that he started working full-time in the family business – HA! He was then asked when he started making the wine, to which he replied ‘never. The wine is made in the vineyard and in the winery you can only damage the wine.’ Ray found the 1988 ‘a little rough’ by comparison to the older wines, but it was still an excellent, bordering on outstanding, wine (94+). The 1990 was spectacular. ‘What a nose,’ I wrote. It was incredible – the fruit, the finish, the layers – the wine had it all. Roberto called 1990 ‘one of the great vintages of all time.’ There were also bricks, minerals, cedar, thick black fruits and a touch of syrup and liqueur. The palate was huge with great t ‘n a and a long and fine finish full of more cedar and minerals. Ray got ‘licorice’ in the nose and Jim picked up on some ‘peppermint’ (97). The 1993 is generally considered an unimportant vintage, but Roberto feels that it will be regarded differently in time. Wheels called 1993 in Piedmont the equivalent of 1980 in Burgundy in that people trashed the vintage, but in the end it turned out great. There was a hailstorm that limited quantity and put a black cloud on the 1993 vintage. The nose was fine and elegant with spearmint, cherry fruit and licorice. ‘Dolce and elegante,’ Roberto cooed. It was incredibly classic by Barolo standards with its tar, smoke, leather and asphalt and indubitably a beautiful wine, fine and smooth. The elegance and finesse to its style and length were intoxicating. I have to agree with Roberto that 1993, at least for Monfortino, is an outstanding vintage (95). The 1988 was served out of magnum, and Ray went into his magnum conspiracy theory about how a lot of producers put the best barrels into their magnums. Roberto said he does know some producers that do that, but obviously that he did not since they usually only have one barrel!

We went back in time again with the 1958, which had a gorgeous nose of complex truffle, mushroom, earth, nut, mature stew, game, beef and leather. It was on the mature side and not as good as the bottle that I had at Cru during La Paulee weekend. There were some vanilla flavors, but Roberto agreed that the ‘best bottle of 1958 would be the wine of the night.’ The wine still had some redeeming qualities and was not totally shot by any stretch of the imagination, so I gave it (93+?). The 1955, one of my personal favorite Monfortinos, had big-time Peking duck in its nose and was super exotic in that regard. There was also leather, cedar, minerals and earth with mature, nutty fruit but also saucy, rich and heady fruit. There were secondary qualities of soy, marijuana and chocolate. Roberto called it ‘one of the greatest bottles of 1955’ that he has had (96). The 1964 was no slouch, either. The nose was nice with a ‘touch of barnyard,’ someone noticed. It was rich, round and long with excellent mouthfeel and structure. Gritty, sandy, dusty and more gritty, the wine was on the leathery and earthy side with complements of mushroom and forest floor (95).

The 1978 was great as always, a veritable black and white shake in the nose, accompanied by deep cassis and plum fruits. Ray caught some ‘pine needles.’ The wine was smooth as silk and long, and there were complex flavors, but I have had better bottles. This bottle was a little softer than my memories of the wine, but Roberto thought that the wine needed more time to express itself and that it was closed right now and that it had the most potential of the flight. He would know (95+). Someone asked when would be the best time to drink this wine, to which Roberto replied, ‘I can’t speak about the future or thirty years from now. I prefer to talk about now.’ I just realized then that I had my spokesperson for Vintage Tastings, because that is exactly how I feel about wine myself! You can say that a wine is young and has a long way to go, but to say that it will be drinking best between 2015 and 2020, for example, is a bit incomprehensible to me. The 1982 had very dry tannins in its chocolaty and earthy nose, more mature than youthful. It seemed to be on a faster maturity curve than most of the other vintages. The wine was very spicy in an earthy way with sandpaper flavors. Ray was surprised by the 1982 and found it to be one of the better ones that he has ever had (94). The 1985 was a knockout, gorgeous wine. It was lighter up front at first but the tastiest wine of the flight by far with its smooth cherry fruit. The tannins really came out in the glass, and the wine was classic and great. ‘The most complete today,’ Roberto remarked (96).

I kind of lost my steam for the last flight of 1995, 1996 and 1997, but here we go anyway. The 1995 was very leathery and cedary with lots of sandy t ‘n a in the nose. However, it was softer on the palate but still had a long finish (93). The 1996 was great and full of black licorice. It was elegant, stony and long with great tannins and a hearty character. Long lived will be wines from the 1996 vintage in Piedmont (96)! The 1997 was so ripe, similar to the 1979 because of its accessibility. It had lots of potential, but I preferred the style of 1996 to 1997. Roberto liked the 1997 a bit more, his father the 1996, and his mother? ‘The Barbera!’ he joked. He continued that neither he nor is father are making a mistake. We will see how the 1997 stands the test of time (94).

It was a great night, indeed.