We were back in safer territory with an excellent 1978 Chateau de La Tour Clos Vougeot. This had much deeper fruit and was very fragrant, showing off lots of purple musk. It had a nice body with a dry, cedary finish, and taut purple fruit with light citrus kisses. Earth and beef satay flavors combined with hay and straw to show both fresh yet browning, mature flavors. This was a complicated wine (93).

The 1979 Chateau de La Tour Clos Vougeot was in a great spot and stole the spotlight from the usually stronger 1978. It had a sweet nose full of kirsch. I just loved its forward, sexy nose, which had just enough hints of autumn and broth to make the conversation deeper and even more interesting. Boysenberry flavors were super tasty, and this was officially another secretly good red from 1979. There was some ‘pudding gooding’ to its great cherry fruit, and I couldn’t help but drink this wine to the last drop, as well as seconds. There is probably no need to defer gratification for this wine much longer, unless out of magnum (95).

We went from one classic to another with the 1985 Chateau de La Tour Clos Vougeot. This was classic in every sense of the word. Its fruit was pure and clean red with great musk and spice. Oil, blueberry and black cherry joined the nose and fit right in. The palate was delicious, showing off all the positive qualities of 1985. It was full-bodied and long with nice sweetness and earth, everything in balance. This was ready to drink and also ready to age some more (95+).

The 1986 Chateau de La Tour Clos Vougeot was the last, non Vieilles Vignes wine that we would have on this evening. While I have had some thrilling 1986s, this wasn’t one of them. The nose was pleasant- brothy, citrusy and smoky, with nice vitamins and red fruit. The palate, however, showed the mean side of 1986. It was dry and hard, medium-bodied and lacking fruit. Its palate was all acid and rust. Every at-bat can’t be a home run (88).

Next up was our first Vieilles Vignes, and the first one that the estate ever produced, the 1987 Chateau de La Tour Clos Vougeot Vieilles Vignes. There was an immediate, noticeable difference in the volume and concentration here. 1987 is about as low on the totem pole that a red Burgundy vintage can be, but this wine didn’t care what vintage it was from. It did need time in the glass to really show its stuff. At first, green oak dominated, but olives and coffee replaced the wood, and it became more and more impressive, especially considering the vintage (93).

The next flight was all ‘V.V.’ beginning with the 1996 Chateau de La Tour Clos Vougeot Vieilles Vignes. The V.V. style really stood out again; its volume was huge, and its texture bigger than Burgundy life. Its fruit was thick, pungent and soupy, and while big, it was still tight and clean. Fuller than most ’96s, the acid seemed less than usual and the milk more. It kept gaining in the glass, although it still came across abit awkwardly in a pre-teen way (92+).

The 1997 Chateau de La Tour Clos Vougeot Vieilles Vignes was in a great spot, with lots of musk and vitamins, including extra C. It was zippy and citrusy, both not easy to achieve in 1997, along with great verve. This was one of the better 1997s that I can remember, better than most, in fact. It was rich, saucy and tasty, ‘great!’ as I wrote. It occurred to me then that this cuvee seemed to make the lesser years sing louder than normally, but the flip side of that coin was that the better vintages needed more time than usual. Either way you skin it, impressive sums it up (94).

The 1999 Chateau de La Tour Clos Vougeot Vieilles Vignes had a deep nose, with adolescent banana peel and date skin in its shy nose, particularly for 1999. Its finish was rich, decadent and strong in the mouth, but the fruit was shy city. While thick, it was shut down and might need another decade more before it starts to say hello (94+).

The final flight begun with a 2007 Chateau de La Tour Clos Vougeot Vieilles Vignes. ‘2007 delivers again, ‘ I wrote. I have been a big fan of this vintage as far as it being one for early drinking and enjoyment. Floozy isn’t the right word, but party girl is. Forward and sexy, the 2007 showed me skin and kept me in refill mode, although it did seem a little more confused after getting to know the 2008 and 2009 that followed (92).

This was an impressive evening of Clos Vougeot with its finest and most significant producer. The standard cuvee showed wonderfully in vintages like 1979 and ’85, and the Vieilles Vignes cuvee is not even ready to show yet in most vintages. Even 1987 felt on the way up, which is quite impressive! The V.V. is built for the long haul, and a very special and unique wine in Burgundy. Almost every V.V. felt like it needed time to develop, and that it would get better, hence all the pluses. I look forward to revisiting this cuvee many times in the future.

A 2009 Liger-Belair Vosne Romanee Colombiere was corked, too much so to pick up many aromas, but the palate wasn’t as badly affected. If you could block out the corked quality, the palate was tasty and foresty, with deep purple and rich fruit, and ‘great weight’ as one observed (93A).

We took a left turn and went to the other side of the tracks with a 2006 Liger-Belair Nuits St. Georges Aux Cras. Its nose was much earthier, almost rubbery at first, clearly a different terroir. I always feel like I’m slumming it in a back alley of Burgundy when drinking Nuits St. Georges, no offense meant. I think we all know that slumming it can serve its purposes lol. Cedar and tannins jumped out of its nose and not much more, but its palate was more impressive than I expected, delivering a thick and long mouthful. Black fruits, vitamins and a ‘hint of licorice’ were all present in this big and beefy red. Hong Kong’s version of the Old Dirty Bastard was loving it. It was the terroir, of course (93).

The 2007 Liger-Belair Vosne Romanee Les Suchots seduced me as ’07s do. There was great perfume and spice here, with sweet and musky decadent fruit. The palate was soft, tender and delicate with great spice. There was so much finesse in all of Louis-Michel’s wines that they struck me as delicacies. This was sexy, silky and superb wine (94).

A pair of queens was next, starting with the 2006 Liger-Belair Vosne Romanee Aux Reignots. I was wondering why the Reignots would be served after vineyards such as Suchots and Brulees, but after this flight, there weren’t any lingering questions. The 2006’s nose was so pure, impressive with its cedar and breed. There was this kiss of that NSG rubber again, but its red fruit overcame in a so fresh and so clean clean way. The palate also had great spice and nice cedar with a long and expressive finish. Gil observed, ‘that popcorn Coche nose’ (94).

Louis-Michel’s Echezeaux is one of this historic vineyard’s newest stars, and it just keeps getting better and better with bottle age, even though there aren’t any that old in the first place. The 2007 Liger-Belair Echezeaux was tasty, big, rich, long and zippy for ’07, with lots of structure. There was black forest fruit with a touch of tropical Bazooka goodness. This was a big and brawny 2007, a typical but I wasn’t complaining. Its impressive structure and citrus twists were all good in this hood (94+).

The 2009 Liger-Belair Echezeaux was even better, as it should be. Its dense, sweet fruit was balanced by its structure and finish. Fruit and acidity were all in harmony, and the signature style of the Domaine was on full display, with added depth from the terroir. There was great style to this great red (96).

It is difficult for a young wine to get me up in what I call ‘rare air’ territory, ie 97+, but the 2009 Liger-Belair La Romanee did just that. ‘Every 2009 is great, ‘ someone commented, but the 2009 La Romanee was beyond great. Deep and powerful seemed inadequate to describe the depths of its nose, as did rich and decadent. This was ripe yet tense, with leather and smokehouse nuances. It was an ass-smacking great nose; that felt more adequate lol. The palate was like a dense forest of flesh, bramble and cedar, a veritable wonderland in which immersion seemed inviting and inevitable. The wine made time stand still; I felt paralyzed by its greatness, yet I was happy to be so. Speaking of so, ‘so rich, so concentrated, so incredible’ summed up my notes. ‘Hell yeah’ would be another way to put it (98).

There are only a handful of people who emerge in Burgundy every generation to become one of the true greats, and Louis-Michel is one of them. Any bottle of his, any time, count me in.

I landed in HK Monday afternoon, and the first event on tap was an evening of 1982s thanks to the sale’s largest consignment. I had missed two previous opportunities this year to attend an ’82 tasting, and I was looking forward to checking in on this heralded vintage on its 30th anniversary.

A 1982 La Dominique was the only St. Emilion on tap tonight and a real surprise. The A-Train found it ‘minty and grassy’ in a good way, and I added wintry spice and ‘classic St. Emilion,’ as in the opposite of that garage…I guess one could technically call it wine. But I digress, as the La Dominique seduced with its great yeast and game aromas, and the palate delivered an excellent experience, full of great spice, more acid than the GPL and nice minerality. Flavors of green olives tickled my palate on its finish. This was ‘good juice,’ as Bad Boy likes to say, and reminded me how a price tag isn’t always an indicator of pleasure (94).

The 1982 Beychevelle, increasingly popular in China due to its ‘Dragon Boat’ label, had a lot of glue and paint in its nose at first, but there was rich and saucy fruit behind it. The glue and paint stuck to the palate as well, and I wasn’t quite sure if this was a typical or an atypical bottle, but I liked the wine overall despite these unusual qualities (91).

The 1982 Gruaud Larose was on the lips of many as a standout at the end of the evening, but at first I didn’t feel it as much. Its nose was sexy, noticeably fuller and bigger with deep, nutty fruit and secondary carob and yeast. The palate was a bit square and very shy, with cleaner and violet flavors just scratching at the surface. While smooth, it was shut down and a touch green. Fast forward two hours later, as an extra bottle of this was open and un-consumed at the end of the dinner. I couldn’t let that go to waste, so we polished the bottle off after dinner up by the pool. After a couple hours of aeration, the Gruaud starting coming into its own, like a star athlete no one thought would be one. It got richer and more powerful, and its palate started to talk back. Not every wine is ready to go once we pull the cork just because we are ready for a drink. I pounded the last of that Gruaud Larose until we were finished, and it pounded me accordingly the next morning (94+).

The 1982 Calon Segur was also quite popular amongst the crowd due to its ready, willing and able nature. Its nose was open and brothy with yeast, game and nut aromas. The palate was tasty and gamy, a bit more jammy than the others with lots of cherry flavors. The minerals and slate came out, and the finish strengthened (93).

1982 Cos d’Estournel has always been a pet ’82 of mine ever since it smacked down an anonymous First Growth one wine-filled and fueled weekend years ago. I should note that the ‘Any Given Sunday’ rule applies, which is not to say that the other result could also happen on another given day, whether it be then or now. There was great spice to the Cos’ nose, with sweet caramel and honey glazes. The palate was nutty and smooth, super chocolaty and lush. This was tasty in a no need to be hasty way (95).

The 1982 La Mission Haut Brion was more graceful in its nose, a bit reticent like orchestrated movements of a veteran ballerina, hinting at things to come. It was still classically nutty and obviously deep, its pockets bulging out of its well-tailored pants. Game and smoke slithered out of its nose, and while its palate was meaty, it, too, was reticent. Tight and ‘austere,’ this was another beast from the vintage that needed more than the two hours of airtime we gave it, four would have probably been better. Unfortunately, there wasn’t an extra bottle to revisit after dinner, but I will plan on revisiting this wine soon (95+).

What did we have here? A 1982 Lafite Rothschild? Yes, we don’t only sell Lafite, we actually drink it, too. Can’t let it all go to the Mainland now, can we? The Lafite was tight, similar to the La Miss, with lots of cedar, minerals and iodine. Cedar dominated its gritty palate, with fireplace and brick flavors joining the party. It, too, might have benefitted from a couple extra hours. Later in the week, a client from the Mainland told me he had eight bottles of this in one night during the same week. Damn, I thought opening two bottles was impressive lol (95).

So what do I think now of the 1982 vintage? I think it is a great vintage, no question. I think many wines will be in a sweet spot over the next decade, ready to drink and enjoy, which is not to say they won’t continue to age, but I don’t see wines like Grand Puy or Calon Segur etc getting any better. At the top level, there is true greatness. Will the vintage continue to reach for the stars like 1928, 1929, 1945, 1947, 1959, 1961 and other great vintages from before? The beautiful thing is there is only one way to find out: keep drinking ’em, and I plan on doing so for years to come, as I am not worried about missing the boat here any time soon.

A 1990 Dom Perignon that followed was tough to drink thereafter. It was pungent and grassy, and despite being very fresh and with a great finish, I wanted to go back to the Mercier. It ain’t easy to go young after you’ve gone old, at least for wine (92+).

A pair of Leflaives guided us off the runway beginning with the 1999 Leflaive Chevalier Montrachet. There was a big dose of sulfur at first, but behind that smoke, citrus and bright, fresh fruit. There was great game and spice to this buttered banana of a nose. The palate was big up front but surprisingly soft and tender on its finish. Etienne de Montille was with us for dinner, and he remarked that ‘1999 was not a great vintage for white. It lacks a little energy’ (93).

A 1996 Fleurot-Larose Montrachet was fruity and ‘cauliflower soup,’ per someone. It was pungent and unexciting, average at best (85).

A 2007 de Montille Puligny Montrachet Caillerets was a personal favorite of Wilf’s for ‘just drinking,’ and it had a great nose with caramel and butter toffee aromas. It was smooth and tasty, with full flavors and a full finish. Etienne is doing some special things these days, and is a winemaker to watch in Burgundy (92+).

It is still a red, red world, so we obliged with a 1989 Leroy Richebourg. The ’89 had a smoky, peaty nose with a touch of latex to its date and purple fruit aromas. Its flavors were light beef, big grape, dark fruit and black forest. ‘Rustic ratatouille’ wrapped up my notes for this excellent and big-boned red (93).

1989 DRC La Tache? Ok, why not. Any night where a bottle of La Tache is opened is officially special. Its nose was very perfumed and open, although there was some dirty underneath, one of the issues with ’89. The palate was much more expressive than the nose with its rich, meaty and earthy personality. Its finish was thick and showed me its peacock tail. Insert your own joke here (94).

The DRC parade continued with a 1986 DRC Romanee St. Vivant. 1986 has provided me some great surprises over the years at the top level; typically its reputation is hard, tannic, acidic and not a lot of fruit. The RSV was a little mildewy at first, but musk and cereal emerged along with dark fruit. There was this dirty side again to the ’86, but its palate and dry finish were impressive. It stood toe-to-toe with the La Tache (94).

We went back to Leroy with a 1978 Leroy Mazis Chambertin, which was a beauty. It was feminine and tender, some kind of wonderful with its pretty, smooth and satiny sides. Pure, fine, feminine again, that’s all she wrote (94).

1996 was the main event on this night, and DRC and Leroy went head to head again, beginning with a 1996 DRC La Tache. Its nose was intense, with all the screech of 1996, aka acidity. The inevitable mint and spice came second, along with cedar and green wood. The palate was finally starting to show some flesh and fruit; the knock on the vintage is the opposite. The great acidity of 1996 shone through, along with forward strawberry flavors. Jean-Marc Roulot found it ‘powerful yet elegant’ and preferred the LT to what followed (96).

So did I, but it was an ‘Any Given Sunday’ thing more than a ‘Smackdown.’ The 1996 Leroy Chambertin had everyone talking, from ‘more opulent’ to ‘masculine’ to ‘verve tannins.’ It was nutty, brothy, thick and creamy. 1996 is a vintage that plays into Leroy’s style well, although this was perhaps a bit too muscular and a touch stemmy if looking for flaws (95).

The 1996 Henri for Georges Jayer Echezeaux that followed was spectacular. I always find this wine (George’s bottling) to be one of the best values in finest and rarest Burgundy, because according to Martine Saunier, long-time importer, this was always the same wine as Henri, even when there were two labels, which there weren’t after some time in the early 1990s anyway. People pay so much more when George’s name isn’t on the label, but the smart money is on the Georges. The nose was full of that deep purple, Jayer fruit. The palate had unbridled power and breadth, with enough vitamin supplements for a pro-Football team. ‘Red twizzler’ came from the crowd for this bright and pleasure-giving red (96+).

I think I can, I think I can…as soon as I saw the 1962 Leroy La Romanee, I knew I could. Alexander the Great found ‘ash of the fire,’ and here was another great nose, with red fruit, dust, zip and tender earth. The palate was milky and tender, round and lush. As my beautiful, 2-year old daughter Katerina might say, ‘Duhlishussss’ (95).

By now, we were all up and about, stumbling, some bumbling. Wild Bill, one of San Francisco’s local wine sheriffs, had a bottle of 1998 DRC Montrachet in his hand, ready to fire. I referenced this bottle in the Nomadness article; a bottle of this a month definitely keeps the doctor away. This bottle was Botrytis City, which felt like a block away from Alphabet City with much higher rent. It wasn’t too far over the top despite its honeyed and Caramelo Anthony sweetness. It tasted great and was more filling with its coconut cream flavors (95).

That was enough for me for night number two, as there was still one more night left, the grandest of them all.

A 1969 Leroy Montrachet was also excellent with its great old nose of candle wax and butter toffee, along with this old cabinet/attic/house aroma and ‘spearmint.’ There were both great earth and sautí©ed butter flavors. This was a tasty and impressive aged white, and TD Jon noted ‘salted caramel’ (94).

2003 is a controversial vintage when it comes to Burgundy, and a 2003 Ramonet Montrachet showed why. The super hot vintage made the usually divine Montrachet overly sweet in a tropical, mint julep cocktail kind of way. This was the stripper side of Montrachet, but my cash stayed in my pocket after the lovely Leroy. They were such opposites. Fruity and forward, there was nice body here to this extroverted Monty (90).

A 2004 Henri Boillot Chevalier Montrachet was smooth, but it didn’t entice too many notes (91).

Twin Bonneau Corton Charlemagnes proceeded, led by a funky 1980. It had an old, mildewy nose and did not seem like a perfect bottle, perhaps corked. It was weird, and its fruit felt like it was left out in sun over the weekend (82A).The 1985 had a similar personality but on the right side of the bed. Yeast, old corn and caramel were all present in its classic profile, along with benevolent waterfall flavors (93).

A magnum of 2002 Ramonet Bienvenues Batard Montrachet had a great spearmint, smoke and waterfall nose. Its palate was long, lingering and stylish. Ramonet’s Bienvenues and the vineyard in general remains one of white Burgundy’s best values (94M).

A 1985 Raveneau Chablis Montee de Tonnerre brought to my wine vocabulary some words I had never used before in describing a wine – urinal cake, and it wasn’t a positive. Alexander the Great concurred with ‘bathroom,’ while someone else noted ‘reduced and sulfur.’ This was clearly an affected bottle; how exactly, I am not sure, but it was wild and woolly with weird and peculiar flavors, tough to drink overall (DQ).

A 1998 Ramonet Montrachet was in a great spot with its decadent nut and smoke aromas, along with forest, fingerling potato skin and heavy cream that came across lightly. The palate was pure with lots of crystallized fruit and minerals, good wood, great freshness and lots of secondary nuances. Now seems the right time to be drinking this (94).

The reds eased into the rotation with a couple of 2009s, beginning with a smooth, easy and tender 2009 Liger-Belair Vosne Romanee Les Chaumees (91).

A 2009 Dujac Romanee St. Vivant had ‘wow’ concentration in its nose; this was sexy juice at first smell. Its fruit was dripping with oil, displaying purple and black tones with exotic spices, dates and nuts in tow. The palate was smooth, satiny and beautiful, but both 2009s gave me the impression they need a bit of time to settle in the bottle and blossom again, even though the early indicators are this vintage will be an immediate pleasure giver (95).

The 2000 Dujac Clos St. Denis had a stinky nose, aromatic in a pungent, wild and gamy way. It came across lighter in style, but dark rose held it together. There were nice tobacco flavors without the heat. This is both a wine and a vintage that should be drunk up sooner as opposed to much later. Let me supplement that by saying I just don’t think this wine will ever give more pleasure than now. I could add another supplement, but there are just too many damn wines to write up (92).

The 1991 D’Angerville Volnay Clos des Ducs was unfortunately a bit corked; were it not, this felt like it could have been a 95-point surprise of a wine. Its finish was thick and great; this was surely a Volnay impostor! Its fruit was mildewy and its flavors skewed accordingly, so it was tough to evaluate this wine despite the more than impressive body and finish (93A).

A 1998 Clos de Tart had a touch of catbox in the nose, with some rose and t ‘n a blending in. There were vitamin flavors in this solid red (91).

A 1990 de Montille Pommard Rugiens was bready and earthy, possessing aromas and flavors of black rose, rainwater and cereal that was a touch old (88).

Another ’90 followed, this one being the 1990 Roty Griottes Chambertin. Fresh wet rocks and waterfall were the first things noticeable, followed by cigar. Its flavors felt a bit dirty, and its fruit was a touch sour (89).

I quickly recalibrated with some superb whites thanks to Mr. Big. We eased back in with a 1991 Coche-Dury Corton Charlemagne. 1991 is more known for its reds than its whites, and this mature Coche was gamy and yeasty accordingly. Still tasty, there were lots of wheat flavors in this lovely, mature Coche. Its maturity was a good thing, but this was another wine that was ready to go, even a bit beyond that, I suppose (92).

The 1990 Coche-Dury Corton Charlemagne that followed said, ‘I am older, and I am better, too.’ Being a first born, I completely understood. While the ’90 hinted at some of the style and flavors of the 1991, this was fresher and stronger, by a longshot. Its acidity roared, and I licked my lips like a well-fed lion after each sip. I wish I could read this last phrase I wrote, looks like ‘like a degending on.’ The unreadable notes are always the deepest of thoughts :). The 1990 was wine #22 for the record (96).

The 1985 DRC Montrachet quickly shrugged the 1990 aside, and ultimately knocked the 1990 out of outstanding class, so to speak. Its palate was superb, hitting all the right spots and still ascending. Cocoa butter and mixed nuts were accentuated by sprinkles of yeast and earth, and a full-bodied, buttery skin encased it all well. When this wine hits, it hits hard (96+).

Got all that? I have some briefer notes for the rest of this report, and memory serves me well for some, though not all, of the wines. The Tollot-Beaut is a rare bird, a cherished white amongst many Chardonnay collectors. It was nice to try one for the first time in a while; it didn’t disappoint. The Rousseau was great for 1989, but still 1989. I like the vintage, but do not love it, and while there is strength and character in this year, there is always game and bread to go with its thick, slight out-of-step personality. Jayer is a master of the ‘off’ vintages, and this 1986 proved once again why. It was as good as 1986 gets, showing that deep purple fruit that only Jayer can extract, with light beef and solid acid, a trait of this screechy but sometimes exhilarating vintage. The Morey wasn’t unknown at the time it was served, I just didn’t write it down and can’t remember who the heck it was lol. It was still 1971, and that is always a good thing, and not because it was my birth year. The Mongeard-Mugneret was sweet and musky in its nose with a ‘touch of ashtray,’ but the palate was sour and more disappointing. The producer would later rebound with a ravishing Richebourg, which was seductive and classic. I know I am going out of order now, but I figure it is easier to keep each producer together at this point. The ’85 Richebourg abounded with red citrus, and it kept getting more beautiful as the glass wore on.

And that was night one of La Paulee. It wasn’t officially on the schedule, but sometimes those are the best nights of all.