This month has seen a lot of pit stops. Here today, gone tomorrow. Like all month, so I guess I am not wiser after all. I have had to channel a lot of my inner Bad Boy to deal with such a road show, but thankfully every day time stops for dinner, and I remember what it is to be civilized again.
I spent a few days in Provence, and I suppose my second night there set a bad precedent for the week: a wedding party that started at 4pm and ended at 330am. Well, at least that was the last time I remember seeing the time. It was a marriage between French and Russian families, and the Russians brought the vodka, and lots of dance floor moves from lots of lovely ladies. I lost two buttons on my shirt and my shoes, but thankfully I made it home in one piece and didn’t fall in any thorny bushes like a couple of others.
That next morning brought a familiar, unpleasant feeling that I would encounter over and over this week: The Hangover (like Part 1000) meets The Traveling Man. Now The Hangover and The Traveling Man really do not get along well, and I do not recommend putting the two in each other’s company, but that’s pretty much what I did from this point out. I scraped myself up at 9am, was on the road at 10am for a four hour drive and arrived right on time for lunch on the sea with The Educator.
Down By The Sea
The Educator is a passionate man whose experience has traveled well beyond the greatest names and greatest vintages, since he has been there and done that as much as anyone. It is discovery that drives him, and he shared some of that passion and wisdom over a wonderful lunch in his summer home. There was a delicious 2002 Delamotte as an aperitif, and it was classy, smooth and delicious, quite drinkable for such a young buck (93).
The Champagne that followed was a beast; we knew it was Salon but we had to guess the vintage. It seemed so young, yet had wisdom about it, much like The Educator himself. Citrus and ‘pink grapefruit’ came from the crowd. This Salon left a Paul Bunyan impression with its bigness and wood. It was yeasty and brawny, yet still fresh and like an infant. The closest I got to guessing was 1979, but this classical 1982 Salon was also some serious heavy metal (97).
The white wine of our lunch program was served completely blind. It was an amazing wine that toured all of France with its complexity. At first, its sexy nose had me leaning in a buttery Chardonnay direction, but one sip made it clear this was no Chardonnay. It almost had the dried white fruits of a great white Bordeaux, but this was much more exotic and sweet, possessing a different overall profile. There was a hint of Rhone tropicality, but its sweetness was more delicate despite covering a wide range of yellow tones. This was a complex, ‘precise’ wine, ‘the best wine of Savoie.’ Where? Even I had to ask. Eastern France, South of the Jura, don’t miss that left turn if you want to get some of the 1990 Domaine Dupasquier Rousette de Savoie Marestel. I’m not sure what’s what on the label, so I am just putting it all down lol. The excitement of such a discovery was written all over my face. It was amazing to find something new that was this good. A small smile and twinkle in the eye of The Educator made me know that we were birds of a feather (95).
The Best White Never
The red was also served blind, another ‘wow’ wine. This, too, had an exotic nose with wild red fruits abounding. There was a creaminess here, some sauvage and a Rhone kink. Its palate was as sweet as sweet can get while still being good, and dry. The Paradox noted, ‘sweetness, coffee, mocha, orange.’ He was leaning towards pre-1950 Bordeaux, while I was leaning towards an old Chateauneuf du Pape. Well, it was an Algerian 1945 Frederic Lung Royal-Kebir. Mascarat was the grape, The Educator believed. There was this ‘flower sugar’/nectar thing happening here, and I saw the Chateau Musar lineage of style. For the first time, I understood why desperate and unscrupulous French winemakers would resort to mixing Algerian wines into their reds. ‘This was when Algeria was still good,’ commented The Educator. ‘This wine brings you history’ (95).
More Proof That 1945 is the Greatest Vintage Ever
A 1995 Guigal Cote Rotie La Turque paired well with a Camenbert, something I thought impossible, but it actually worked per The Educator’s insistence. The Guigal was rich, full and ‘milky’ per The Paradox. White pepper, violet and a slice of ham rounded out its nose. ‘Delicate, velvet and fraiche’ came from the crowd. This was balanced yet big (94).
The Educator continued to teach after dinner. ‘If you want to know a wine, you have to know all the vintages.’ He referenced the 77 vintages of DRC he has sampled. I did some quick math in my head and put myself at about 60. There is still so much to learn.
There was another new, exciting discovery, a magical place in a faraway land seemingly only known to those who already know it. Those who already know it, and who like their fine wine, would most certainly dine at a certain Michelin-starred restaurant, so that’s just what I did. I have been drinking a lot of dry Rieslings (‘GGs’) this summer, so I couldn’t resist grabbing a half-bottle of one of Riesling’s top dogs right now, a 2009 Keller Kirschspiel GG. This had a fantastic nose that was clearly great and sweet with its citrus and lychee fruit, but also taut with a refreshingly cold minerality. There was nice petrol giving this some go, and it bristled on its palate. There was a satiny, tender and long finish to this delicious virtuoso. This goes under the ‘pure pleasure’ category (94).
#1 German Seed
I also couldn’t resist grabbing a reasonable 1989 Vogue Musigny Blanc off the list, it had been a while since I have seen one of these. There was a pinch of fresh mint in its nose, along with buttered corn, honey and a sweet yellow Chartreuse kiss. The wine felt fully mature but plateauing. It certainly hasn’t turned the corner, although it may be getting close. The palate was luscious and smooth with a soft finish. It got a bit more creamy and chewy in the glass, and a touch of crÃÂme brulee flavors emerged. By the way, I believe this wine, after years of being released under a Bourgogne Blanc label due to a replanting of the vineyard, is now about to be released again as Musigny Blanc (93).
Coming Back Soon to a Theater Near You
I certainly couldn’t resist a bottle of 1996 Roumier Chambolle Musigny Amoureuses at 210 euros. The Roumier had a gorgeous nose full of roses, red fruits, royal garden and a kiss of waterfall. There was crazy Asian and forest spice abounding, but its palate was a bit more reserved. It was more tender than most ’96s, still with a hint of the vintage’s strong acid but simplistically satiny. I felt the wine was a bit shut down, however (94+).
Swallows of 1986 Mouton Rothschild (96+) and 1974 Heitz Martha’s Vineyard (96) were most welcome at the end of the night, as some other guests had left a smidge in their bottles. ‘This is what we do every night,’ the sommelier smiled.
Only For The Lovers
Another day, another city, and this time I was in Germany, lunching somewhere that was also a new discovery, called Vendome. This was a three-star restaurant that felt like one from head to Tokyo. I have eaten in about eight or so three-star restaurants this year, but to be honest, they can be as disappointing as they can be exciting. This was the best and most exciting meal that I have had this year. Chef Joachim Wissler is at the top of his game, and everything about the meal was spectacular, including the wines.
Proper Three Star Restaurant Location
Four Fabulous Courses
I had lunch with The Aginator, a ‘no bullshit’ kind of guy and longstanding friend who doubles as a nice bodyguard when abroad. Any problem will soon be no problem when The Aginator is around. We went back to the Keller, this time a 2007 Keller Abts Erde GG. This was another fantastic Keller with aromas of sweet peach and nectarine. This was sweeter than usual, perhaps a function of the vintage or the vineyard, not really sure. Its palate was lush and creamy, soft and sweet (93).
We plucked an unusual 1981 Haut Brion Blanc off the list next. It had a great, yet unique nose that opened up slowly. This was glue city with a touch of good oxidation, aka maturity. It got sweeter in the glass, unfolding into honey, lavender and ‘caramel’ per my friend. The wine also became brothier. This was a smooth and polished wine, like a well-oiled doorknob, and its palate was perfectly mature (93).
Lunch For Two
There were a lot more wines at dinner that night with The Aginator, and more dinners in general, but we’ll save those for another time. Whether it be wines, places or restaurants, new discoveries are always exciting, even if there is only time for a pit stop.
In Vino Veritas,
JK