“No man also having drunk old wine straightaway desireth new: for he saith, ‘The old is better.’” ”“ Luke 5:39

When it comes to wine, there are great wines, and there are truly great wines. What makes a wine truly great is its ability to age, and I am not talking ten to fifteen years, I am talking fifty to one hundred plus. It seems as if the market’s attention starts to wane pre-1982, which affords those that know the greatness of older wines an even greater luxury than the gift of knowledge they already have. True, there is always more risk with old wines, a bottle might be cooked, or past the ideal drinking window, but the risk is clearly outweighed by the reward. Even if there is a ten to fifteen percent chance of risk for any given forty-plus year-old bottle one might open, the price of the older wines relative to younger wines today is sometimes laughable, and more than makes up for that risk. Would you rather have a 1959 Lafite for $3000 a bottle, or a 1982 for $6000? How about a 1966 La Tache for about $1500, or a 2008 for the same price? And every bottle doesn’t have to be four figures either. I have had so many great obscure Burgundies from the 1960s and prior for $200 or $300 a bottle that just sing. Good luck finding a top 2009 for that price. For those that have the passion, and have no fear, old wine, pre-1982, is the greatest buying opportunity in the market today, and I gladly put my money where my mouth is on what might be considered a scaringly regular basis.

It’s also the greatest drinking opportunity, and I am a drinker, occasionally even a drunk :). If there is anyone who drinks more old wine than me on a yearly basis, then I need to meet you, and we need to drink together. Maybe Pekka and Juha up in Helsinki, they certainly are as experienced as anyone in the world right now. We now convene on a regular basis. King Angry and Big Boy have to be part of the conversation, for sure, along with the artist formerly known as Dr. Vino, Dr. Wilf Jaeger. It’s no surprise that these are the guys with which I drink on a regular basis. Allen Meadows definitely drinks his share of great old wines, but only Burgundies. I’ll never forget an incredible night with Allen at Cru, where we sampled a perfect 1934 Romanee Conti (third greatest wine of my life) amongst many other spectacular Burgs, then at the end of the night, we started to play around with some other regions, you know, like 1966 La Mouline, 1945 Mouton, etc. So the Mouton comes out, and this was an incredible bottle, one of the best I have ever had, 98 or 99 point territory, everything you could absolutely want in a great, old Bordeaux and then some. So I go to Allen, a bit cock-eyed and cocky accordingly, grinning ear to ear. Here was a Bordeaux that even Allen could not deny. ‘So Allen, what’d you give the ’45 Mouton?’ Allen replied without hesitation, ’88 points.’ Doh! But I digress”¦

My most recent trip to Hong Kong saw an incredible lineup of events, featuring the wines and proprietors from three world-class estates ”“ Chateau Valandraud, Dominio de Pingus and Domaine Comte Liger-Belair. There was also a pre-auction tasting with three dozen incredible wines, a fun mature German lunch that we’ll let Justin write up one of these years, and another very special lunch, featuring seven vintages of ancient, pre-World War I Lafite Rothschild with bulletproof provenance, and bottles in incredible condition accordingly. Later that week, we also opened up our usual palate-numbing quantity of bottles at the auction, including a delicious Imperial of 2007 Lafite, as well as fantastic bottles of 1964 and 1966 Petrus. There was also a very special, private dinner after the auction that featured 27 wines so great that the 1929 Haut Brion at the end was almost an afterthought, and a Sunday lunch that I still don’t know how I managed to attend. Oh yes, I do, the magnum of 1985 La Tache. But I digress again”¦

This article is about Lafite, and the lunch on the Thursday before the auction at Gold, one of Hong Kong’s hottest new restaurants. The bottles were courtesy of the sale’s featured collector, who wasn’t even selling anything pre-1982. That wasn’t the point; the point was to drink, to share, to experience, and what an experience it was. We began with a couple of aperitifs, a magnum of 1969 Krug Collection and a bottle of 1992 Coche-Dury Meursault Rougeots. The Krug had a bit of a low fill but was still delicious. While not as spritely as it could have been, it still had signature aromas and flavors of vanilla, butter and corn, and there were no complaints. Other bottles have been better, though (94A). The Coche was absolutely delicious, on a peaking plateau of maturity, a 1992 that hasn’t started skiing downhill just yet. It was a bit wet around the edges with some waterfall and wet alley, but its sweet white fruit and kinky Coche style were still held together nicely by warm acidity (93).

We sat down to a warmup wine, the 2006 Lafite Rothschild. Unlike the delicious 2007 that we had two days later from Imperial, 94 points by the way, the 2006 was completely shut down. There were pleasant pencil and mineral aromas and nice, reticent fruit in its nose, cassis, of course. The palate was very ‘stiff,’ as one put it, quite dry with little definition. Its acidity was buried alive, practically impossible to even identify. It was quite polished, but too much so, and it just lacked character on the palate, at this point. It caused someone to quip, ‘Young Bordeaux is for business, young Burgundy is for pleasure’ (90+?).

Warm-ups were over, and it was time for the main event. The 1901 Lafite Rothschild had everyone breathing a sigh of relief, as it was obvious we were in great shape, and the bottles had traveled well. The 1901 had a wow nose, full of mature, warm fruit. Michael keenly noted, ‘Spanish ham and honey.’ There was this ice cream sweetness to the nose, closest to black cherry, along with a brick-like, layered complexity. Right on cue, Lei observed that its nose kept ‘coming in layers,’ and it did, now developing a light forest and earth component, along with some cedar. Vincent, aka The Poet, admired that there was ‘still very good length.’ The palate was full of tender cedar flavors, in a fine antique way. There were touches of citrus and light candle wax in the mouth, which was absolutely delicious. Lei cooed how it was ‘so perfumed,’ and noted its ‘blossoms and floral beauty were so delicate yet complex.’ Michael hailed it as ‘kaleidoscopic,’ and everyone was left impressed and in awe of this 110 year-old treasure (96).

The 1904 Lafite Rothschild had a tough act to follow, but it was up to the challenge. Lei quickly observed, ‘like a fine cheese,’ and her son added, ‘Epoisses.’ Indeed, it was! It is always great to taste with experienced collectors who can share their observations and verbalize them effectively. Its nose was nutty and creamy, and a little bit of chocolate started to emerge. The palate, however, was a touch dirtier with earthier flavors, along with wafer and band-aid on the finish. Heinrich observed, ‘a little medicine,’ while Vincent found it ‘leathery.’ It was still a very good Lafite, but no 1901 (92).

The 1905 Lafite Rothschild had ‘dragoneye’ in its nose, and The Poet wasn’t talking about the famous Hong Kong nightclub! Its fruit was dried and sweet, Michael called it ‘long yan,’ which translates to longan fruit, although I still don’t know what that is, lol. There is still much I have to learn! The nose on the ’05 was milder than the previous two wines, and it has this lightly sautéed beef undertone. The palate was also lighter, but delightfully so. It was soft, tender and easy, caressing my palate like a good, bedtime story. It was a tad slaty on its finish at first, but that mellowed as it fruit became citrusy, and it picked up in the glass a little bit, flexing one last time before saying goodbye to all (93).

The 1907 Lafite Rothschild had great aromas, full of red colors ”“ currant, licorice and fresh fruit, almost like a red melon, but not watermelon. It had the signature vanilla and cedar, ‘the terroir of Lafite,’ as The Poet sagely said. ‘When they get old, you see the terroir,’ he continued. The 1907 had the richest nose so far, with exotic, sweet fruit that moved in a mango direction but not quite that. Its palate charmed at first with delectable flesh, richness and cherry flavors, also possessing a wafery finish. Michael hailed it as ‘the most complete,’ but it lightened in the glass just a touch, though, making it a fast and furious Lafite, but still an outstanding one (95).

The 1908 Lafite Rothschild had ‘old worn leather saddle, and a slight smokiness’ in its nose per Gil, who echoed Vincent’s sentiments about terroir in Bordeaux, even though he missed the original comment. Some conversations about Syrah and Alicante Bouschet in Bordeaux pre-1933 crept into the conversation, as there were some questions if there were any additional, non-traditional grapes here in general, per the times. The signature vanilla cream of Lafite oozed out onto its buttery palate in this delicious wine. The 1908 was brighter and held better than the 1907, and while Lei acknowledged the acidity of the 2008 was better, she still preferred the 1907 (95+).

We had another great nose in the 1909 Lafite Rothschild, this time more on the cigar side, lightly so. Heinrich observed a ‘smoky, Lagavulin nose,’ and it became nutty with a little air. The palate was much lighter in style, with flavors of raw vegetable, or ‘crudite,’ as one concurred. It was a fragile Lafite, but still in the quality zone, just hanging on (90).

We closed with the 1914 Lafite Rothschild. Finally, something less than 100 years old :)! The 1914 was a ringer for an old Burgundy; in fact, if this was served to me blind, I am fairly certain I would have guessed Burgundy. It had a tea-like color, orange at its rim. Gil found it ‘1923 La Tache-like,’ high praise, indeed. The nose was a bit stinky, lightly grassy with a pungent core. The palate was tangy and a bit simple after so many other great wines. It was the least exciting to me, although many liked its exotic, wild and woolly style more than me (88).

It was a magnificent afternoon, one we call a ‘proper business lunch’ in HK.

4×2=8. And on 4/28, some of New York’s finest collectors gathered at Marea for an evening of fine Bordeaux. I know that everyone in the world thinks that only the Chinese drink Bordeaux, but there are still a few Americans that appreciate a good claret, especially the older stuff. While China’s attention tends to drift away pre-1982, that’s where America’s deepest cellars start to focus.

There was also Champagne. I don’t think there is a proper meal that can go without it. We started with a 1976 Krug. Its nose was wafery with a light brulee glaze along with and nice wheat and a light toast. The palate was leaner than expected, possessing light cola and ginger ale flavors. Of course, any reference to New York’s finest collectors without a reference to Big Boy would constitute an incomplete grade, and he commented how 1976 isn’t even close to 1979 despite a few high profile wines having similar ratings. Its vanilla components came out with some foccacia, but it was merely very good, and excellence is usually the minimum that Krug will tolerate (92).

The 1988 Krug Clos du Mesnil, however, was up to the usual standards and delivered a profound experience. Its nose was obviously bigger, possessing great breed. I loved its toasty bread and nut aromas, both of which were soaked in oil. Its butter came out, and its palate was great. It was full and long, yet still balanced and deft, a whopper with just the right amount of cheese (96).

The very first vintage of Cristal Rose was next. For those of you that know what year that is, you would only know if you knew Big Boy, and the story about how he got the six bottles for twenty times the highest price ever. It’s a true story lol. The 1974 Cristal Rose had a dirty nose with earthy, dark chocolate aromas. Lady Agah noted, ‘strawberries and cream, soaked in liqueur.’ There was almost this dash of Chambord in it. The palate was big and rugged, also dirty, still with vim but also with some caterpillar boots and fur, too. Lady Agah’s early infantuation was soon over, and she observed ‘not much of a finish.’ Given the vintage, it was impressive, but it remained dirty from beginning to end. Sorry Rob, but it wasn’t worth $5k a bottle lol (91).

The 1926 Dom Perignon, however, was worth $5k and then some. It had a honeycomb nose, along with cream, light toast, vanilla sugar and ‘petrol’ per Gentleman Jim, ‘like an old Alsatian Riesling.’ It was also Montrachet-like and Wendy found ‘honeysuckle,’ while another found ‘honey’ as well. The palate took it up another notch with its rich and thick personality. It was lush, long and honeyed, dry yet creamy with caramel flavors. There was excellent viscosity in a wine-like way, with just a light touch of spritz to remind everyone that it was still Champagne. It was outstanding stuff, and clearly the Champagne to drink and finish first (96).

It was time for Bordeaux, and what better way to start that off than with a 1948 Cheval Blanc. The 1948 has outshone the 1947 on more than one occasion, although the 1947 still remains one of my personal all-time highlights. The problem is, that was 1999, New Year’s Eve to be precise. It has never been as good, while the 1948 has delivered at least three times that I can remember over the last ten years that were stupendous. Lady Agah found it ‘smoky and smokin’’ right away, like ‘barbecue potato chips.’ It was, most like Lays in particular lol. There was a rich, meaty style to the nose, and mint and menthol soon joined the party. The palate was rich and saucy, with a touch of slate and band-aid holding it back. There were grainy flavors and that signature old Cheval motor oil of the era. ‘Incense and game’ were also noted in this complex wine. It wasn’t the best bottle of this wine that I have ever had, but it was still outstanding (95).

The Cheval would be the only St. Emilion for the evening. In fact, the rest of the night would be all Pomerol. A 1950 Trotanoy brought by Jim and Wendy proved to be one of the wines of the night. It was a spectacular Nicolas bottle, and everything it should have been. It had a deep, incredible nose with aromas of plum, chocolate and white smoke. Its palate was classic; it was rich yet mature with flavors of cassis and plum. ‘Classic Nicolas, pure,’ remarked Rob. Everyone purred for this near-purrfect Pomerol (97).

The Pomerol procession pushed onwards with a 1953 Latour a Pomerol. This was much more ceramic in its nose, with a heavy mesquite edge. It had a much lighter nose than the Trotanoy but was still classic in its own way, and more reflective of its vintage. Clean and light in the mouth as well, the L a P had secondary cinnamon flavors; otherwise, the palate followed the nose’s lead (93).

A 1955 Vieux Chateau Certan was exotic and kinky with loads of sweet fruit. It was almost tropical, I wanted to say apricot and mango. It was like there was a shot of Yquem in this overripe red. The palate was lush and creamy, with hints of orange rind on its finish. It was tasty and friendly, perhaps not a perfect bottle, but a fun one (93).

The next flight was a Lafleur family feud. The first was the 1964 Lafleur, which had a fabulous nose, a veritable fruit symphony of black, purple and even red, certainly black cherry. Its nose was so seductive; it was like a kiss, cream and raspberry beret all in one, performed by Prince, of course. The palate was round and pretty, but a step back from the nose. It was long with a nice frame, and it had more concentration and chocolate flavors than its younger sibling that followed (94).

The 1966 Lafleur had a sweet core in its nose, bordered by slate. It felt lighter in the nose, and it was. It palate was pleasant and long, with a bit of dust and zip to its finish. It was a grainier Lafleur, still holding onto its excellent status, but perhaps not for long (93).

We had a palate cleansing, mini-flight of two Champagnes, both from 1929. The 1929 Heidseick Dry Monopole was ‘honeyed city’ in the nose. Its round, apply personality was mature, and its caramel on a stick most definitely got my attention. The palate didn’t have any more bubbles, but it was rich, round and lush, quite wine-like and ‘heaven’ per one of its sippers. The wine was delicious, rich and delicious (95).

The 1929 Louis Roederer should have been the better bubbly, but this bottle was ‘not as crisp’ although it was still creamy and oily, just not as great or a great bottle. It had a yeasty finish but was clearly affected (92A).

We still had four wines to go, and all of them were from either 1989 or 1990. Since they were Pomerols, my money was on the 1989s. I have had 1989 Petrus versus 1990 Petrus on six or eight occasions, and the 1989 has always won. Now that’s not to take away from the 1990, which is certainly a great wine. It’s just not the 1989. As Big Boy summed up, ‘In 100 years, the 1989 Petrus will be one of the five greatest wines ever made. It’s flawless, their greatest since 1961 by a longshot.’ He then proceeded to tell another great story, which I think made the evening score Big Boy 5, Rest of Us 0. JG quipped, ‘Remind me to tell my story first next time!’ I guess this is about the worst intro one can have for a 1990 Petrus, but we did taste that first, against a 1990 Lafleur, which I’ll get to in a moment. The ’90 had a big nose, bigger than I last remember it, with a lot of pop to it, and some smoke and kernel to go along with it. The wine was absolutely delicious, the essence of Petrus and the best 1990 of this that I have ever had. Chocolaty and chunky, it had character from start to finish. Thick as a brick (96+).

The 1990 Lafleur was another bottle that showed better than any others I have ever had. It was much tighter and had a lot more character than previous bottles. I have always found this to be a bit of a floozy of a Lafleur; now don’t get me wrong, there is always a time and a place for a floozy, just not every night lol. This wine was snapping back at me, in a good way, and its palate was wound yet minty and spicy. It was thick, long and sweaty, with great earth, slate and chocolate flavors developing. Its finish lingered, and its peacock showed me its tail (96).

The 1989 Lafleur was unfortunately an off bottle, and at this point in the evening, that was too much to overcome to even attempt to salvage a decent note for it (DQ).

The 1989 Petrus didn’t need much written about it, since it was consistent with every other time, still a cut above the rest. ‘All hail the King’ sufficed for my notes. If anyone was wondering what the two best brands are in the entire world of wine, Petrus is one of them, and is the other (99).

The most amazing thing about this evening was that the lineup of wines came together that morning, which is what we call ‘Spontaneous Combustion.’

The early part of the week is always its hardest part, so wine is definitely in order on Mondays and Tuesdays. Make that all days come to think of it. A recent Monday saw Hong Kong’s Good Doctor slip in and out of the New York night around dinner, leaving a trail of empty bottles behind him. Lady Agah and Alexander the Great joined us for a most enjoyable evening.

The company of the Good Doctor is always enjoyable, as he has a taste for the finer things, and is a master of not only wine, but also food. He is always atop my Hong Kong list of people to see, as I know a special meal will surely follow. Since it was Monday, and he was amidst a world tour of travel, we kept it light with only four bottles for the four of us, beginning with a 1990 Cristal. Well, it was Lady Agah who selected the ’90, as I was a few minutes late, and she waits for no man. I quickly caught up with the ’90, enjoying its butterscotchy, hedonistic style. It was delicious and sexy, flirting with sweet but keeping it dry. It was rich and long, still young but showing secondary flavors. It has always been a fun and outgoing Cristal, from a vintage that will last (96).

The 2001 Ramonet Montrachet that followed was a solid successor, as it, too, had a buttery style that flirted with sweetness. There was a touch of botrytis in this rich wine. It was fat and long, missing a touch of its centerpoint at this stage; its acidity wasn’t quite bridging the gap between its fruit and finish. The fatness of the wine perhaps detracted from its acidity a bit, but at age ten I don’t think the wine should be shutting down, not in 2001 at least. Nonetheless it was an excellent Ramonet, and one that I wouldn’t worry about drinking up soon (94).

The 1993 Roumier Chambolle Musigny Les Amoureuses was spectacular. Roumier really hit the 1993 nail on the head. His wines capture the essence and greatness of the vintage better than anyone else, although Rousseau and Mugnier might have a thing or two to say about it. Ok, Leroy too, but in a different language. This wine possessed all the great qualities of Roumier, the vintage and the vineyard. It was silky and feminine yet robust in character, with a mineral and earth foundation that said ‘build here.’ It had a fine line that ran right through it, keeping the wine balanced, but it was still so taut. It felt young but wise, its black and red fruits hinting at what will still come for many years. It was fabulous (96+).

We finished with a 1996 Krug. Lady Agah was ready to perform after dinner, so we revved it up a notch with a closing act fit for a nightcap. The Krug was, as usual, stellar but young. It had enough acid for the entire restaurant, and it had enough rocket fuel to last for decades. Do not disturb until 2025 (96).

It had been a long day for the Good Doctor, who bid us farewell with incredibly wise words that were befittingly very Chinese, ‘The days are long, but the years are short.’

The day after was another long day, especially the morning part of it, and I saw another good friend slip in and out of New York, this time being Hollywood Jef, in town for the Tribeca Film Festival. The Hedonist celebrated Jef’s arrival with a dinner at Adour, where more wine was, of course, both in and on order.

We picked up right where I left off the night before, this time with a 1989 Krug Clos du Mesnil. The nose was deep, rich and brothy, with great vanilla and light citrus aromas. There were exotic floral qualities and a bold personality from what is the greatest vineyard known to Champagne. The flavors were big to match, and there were lots of wheat flavors with a splash of rust. There was deep acidity to this brooding bubbly, and its long, thick finish oozed all over my palate. It got deeper and better with warm, yellow flavors shining in due time (96+).

A 1992 Drouhin Montrachet Marquis de Laguiche had a sweet, gamy nose. Tropical aromas of rainwater, sweet musk and even a hint of pineapple let their presence be known rather quickly. 1992s can be a bit sweet, and while I think many wines from this vintage are already sunsetting, that was not the case here. The palate had mildly sweet caramel flavors and hints of stalk and butter. That tropical sweetness stuck around the palate and didn’t cross the line. This was a great 1992 (95).

Hollywood Jef plucked something off the list and had a little fun, serving it to us blind. It was definitely old Bordeaux, and the Hedonist noted that it was ‘a little volatile.’ Once past that, there were aromas of peanut, carob, caramel and cassis. It had a dirty edge to it, and its peanut qualities soon went Bangkok Thai on me. It was gravelly and smoky, which led us to guess Graves. I was able to get the vintage down to ’59 or ’61, and it was a 1961 Pape Clement. I reveled in my logic and methodology for a moment, and went back to the wine and found it getting better in the glass. This was a delicious wine, much better than I remembered when I did a comprehensive Pape Clement vertical many years ago (94).

Two Burgundy bombs were lofted in from Jef, spectacular examples of Chambertin that made it a night truly to remember. Generous people who share their best bottles are people that easily become the best of friends. The first Burgundy was a 1962 Rousseau Chambertin Clos de Beze. Having had a spectacular bottle of this within the last two months, I was well prepared to reevaluate it. This bottle was equally as spectacular, sporting an incredible nose of game, smoke and red fruits. There was a richness to the nose without a heaviness, and great spice, rust and citrus kissed erotically around its bed of fruit. The palate was also rich, but still elegant, luscious and in the right spot and the right time, as the top 1962s are, although some say the vintage’s best days are starting to be behind it. Not tonight! There was a kick of kernel on the end, and its red fruits slowly turned to autumn in the glass. It never lost its citric tension, and secondary flavors of garden and smoke continued to unfold (97).

The last wine on this memorable evening was a 1955 Leroy Chambertin, which wasn’t about to back down from the benchmark laid down before it. The Leroy was even more kinky, with black and brown fruits emerging first and foremost. The palate was sexy and fleshy, with chocolate tootsie pop flavors but solid earth and iodine to keep it balanced. The wine kept climbing the point ladder with time in the glass, becoming more meaty and a good dirty. Its acid really came out and asserted itself, its t ‘n a popping out of its glass. ‘It has cleavage,’ the Hedonist chuckled, to which Hollywood Jef left us with some West Coast wisdom, ‘Everything is about getting laid’ (96).

The following week was more about Wednesday and Thursday with a complete Masseto vertical and a spectacular Bordeaux night at Marea, Saturday was La Tache with the Burghound, it was a busy week. I’m still unbelievably backed up this year already. Perhaps we’ll keep La Paulee interrupted for a bit. These past couple of weeks were definitely what we call ‘practice what you preach.’

La Paulee is one of the greatest wine experiences available to mankind. Daniel Johnnes, now wine director of Daniel’s culinary empire, has persevered year after year for the last eleven years in pulling off this extraordinary event, where Burgundy lovers from all over the world come together in either New York or San Francisco to share their greatest passion ”“ Burgundy. I was reading an interview with DJ before the main event this year, and found out that his first trip to Burgundy was when he worked for Acker Merrall in the beginning of his illustrious career, and on that trip he met Christophe Roumier, now a close friend. That really brought everything full circle for me this year, and set the stage for another extraordinary weekend. If you haven’t been, you most certainly should. It’s worth planning a vacation around.

Fortunately for me, it’s work :). La Paulee usually ends up being a three or four day affair, with pre-events both public and private, and this year we did a couple private ones. The first was a party I hosted on Thursday night, and the second an intimate evening of 1971s hosted by Mark and Roger and attended by such Burgundy dignitaries as Lalou and Vero. However, as I sit here on the flight from Guam to Honolulu, I can’t seem to find those notes (I swore I brought them!), so we will go straight to the main event.

The first wine I sampled on this incredible night was a 1990 Pernot Bienvenues Batard Montrachet, which was a friendly Hail Mary pass courtesy of Brett Favre’s cousin. Brett wasn’t around, I don’t think he feels too welcome in New York anymore. The Pernot had lovely corn aromas and flavors and a round mouthfeel, it was in a nice spot with lots of tasty butter flavors and excellent acidity still. I was quite impressed with this insider’s wine (94).

La Paulee is the wine world’s version of Fast and Furious, and Big Boy always gets to play Vin Diesel. He entered on cue with a 1976 Salon magnum. Its nose was what I called ‘white rusty,’ and it was very dry and tight, possessing that laser-like Salon quality on the palate but still noticeably a touch dry (93M).

Dr. Wilf Jaeger, the artist formerly known as Dr. Vino and one of America’s greatest collectors, is a La Paulee anchor as much as he is a Burgundy icon. He pulled out a pet wine of his for starters, a magnum of 1990 Gagnard-Delagrange Montrachet. It was clean and delicious with nice citrus and guava qualities. Still quite fresh, it had that fresh rainwater feel, and while not as developed and forward as the Pernot, it still provided some very good drinking (92M).

I assume that all magnums of Champagne come from Big Boy, although I know I got a couple of killer Champers from the Bad Boy as well. I think the magnum of 1966 Philipponat Clos des Goisses was one of Rob’s, but if not, he should still get the credit anyway for the awareness he has singlehandedly created about old Champagne! The Goisses was super fresh, no doubt more recently disgorged than not, with that signature wheat meets wheatgrass edge that always comes across quite pungently. Its pungency translated on to the palate, but this magnum showed more citrus than usual, which I found an appealing twist (95M).

The first wow wine came courtesy of Big Mike, who was crushing it as usual with an incredibly rare magnum of 1990 Coche-Dury Corton Charlemagne. I had never even seen one myself, so there was some initial trepidation, although one sip from the glass eased all concerns, as this was certainly Coche, certainly Corton Charlemagne and mature like a 1990 should be. While still clean and fresh, no doubt aided and abetted by the magnum format, there were warm, mature aromas with a touch of honey on top. Someone commented how it ‘doesn’t have the power of 1996,’ and it didn’t, but it didn’t have to; after all, it was the 1990 :). There was subtle strength here and an unwinding quality to its acidity that I found extraordinary (96M).

One spectacular magnum of 1990 was followed by another, this one being a 1990 Domaine Leflaive Chevalier Montrachet. The Leflaive was more open and gamy than the Coche, displaying more rainwater and buttered corn, and that signature Leflaive kernel. It was rich and ready (95M).

A bottle of 2002 Simon Bize Corton Charlemagne snuck in courtesy of Brian if memory serves me correctly.; apparently this wine is super rare and not mainly people know Bize even makes it, or he only made it one year, I am not sure to be honest. There were hints of anise in the nose, and it was clean and long with sweet nut and fruit flavors (91).

Bad Boy burst on the scene with one of the best bottles of Dom Perignon that I have ever had. It was just one of those bottles that was pure magic and ecstasy, delivering everything I could possibly want in an old Champagne and then some. This bottle of 1966 Dom Perignon was recenty disgorged in 1995, which leads me to believe that everyone needs to wait fifteen years after disgorgement before drinking. The size and stature of this bottle was huge and larger than life; its power and length were extraordinary. Now it wasn’t the first time that I have had this Champagne, but it certainly was the best. Unreal (98).

Gotta Have It Bobby followed up nicely with a magnum of 1973 Taittinger Comtes de Champagne, which was tasty and sweet, full of pink and red fruits and still showing some solid ’73 zip (93M).

A bottle of 2000 Coche-Dury Meursault Perrieres slipped in there. It was a classic 2000, clean and fresh, agile and cut, with that signature Coche kink to its nose. Rainwater, kernel and spice all graced its classy palate, which epitomized both 2000 and Coche quite well. I have been a fan of 2000 whites from day one, although it may be getting to be that time for many over the next handful of years (95).

Dueling 1996 Montrachets were next, one out of magnum, the other out of jeroboam. First up was the 1996 Ramonet Montrachet. The nose was minty, gamey and corny, while its palate was rich and long. It was a touch too gamy on the palate unfortunately, but the bare bone raw materials and potential in this wine were extraordinary. Its acidity was almost endless, somehow in balance with the texture and the fruit. I’m not sure if it was a touch of cork or heat taint that affected this bottle, but I could still appreciate its greatness (96A-M).

The jero of 1996 Bouchard Montrachet held its own quite nicely, delivering a delicious experience of must have Montrachet. It was class in a glass, showing great spice and lemony chalk, and not too much acidity as some 1996s are prone to have (95J).

A 1979 Louis Roederer Cristal snuck in there, and I was glad it did. This bottle had only one owner its entire life pre-Paulee, and it showed. It was racy, long and zippy with fine butterscotch flavors, still a youthful personality (96).

The first red of the evening was a disappointing 1990 Chezeaux Chambertin, the estate where Ponsot makes the wines, although I am not sure if he made all of them or just the Griottes. It was pungent and ok at best (88).

It was soon an afterthought as the Chardonnay grape made its last hurrah with five more whites, beginning with another magnum of Ramonet, this time a 1992 Ramonet Montrachet. This magnum was doubly special, as it came from the cellar of Wolfgang Grunewald. It was a delicious expression of Chardonnay, clean and fresh with no signs of cracking or that 1992 rot. Amazing and pure, it gave me this white snow impression, and its balance was superb. I may be dating myself, but it made me feel like an actor in a York Peppermint Pattie commercial back in the day lol (97M).

A magnum of 1982 Domaine Leflaive Puligny Montrachet Clavoillon was super fresh, almost too much so. This had to be reconditioned, and while dusty, long and pungent, it felt stripped of its age and nuance (90M).

A bottle of 1993 Raveneau Chablis Montmains was still holding on, gamy and enjoyable but an afterthought on this star-struck night (90).

The 1990 Montrachet was the third to last white wine of the evening and certainly its finest to date. The nose just boasted about its greatness, and no other wine would dare speak back. It was as pure as this wine gets; there was no usual touch of botrytis in this distinguished, refined and youthful nose. Aromas and flavors of rain, white meat and butter danced in massive harmony, like an 80-piece orchestra all in the same key. Long and unreal, it was, well, long and unreal. What a wine (97+).

There aren’t many wines that can follow a 1990 Monrachet in fine fashion, but thankfully the 1985 Ramonet Montrachet is one of them, especially when out of magnum. Thanks to the Don for this beauty, which wasn’t as beautiful as the sight of Don carrying around this magnum like a torch in the cold, Beaune night. This was another no-doubt-about-it, fantastic white. Its enormity was incredible, and its bigger than life personality took center stage immediately. The palate was gritty and grainy, long and fantastic. It had the purity of anything virgin, you know, like snow, territory”¦(97M).

Perhaps now might be a good time to take a break, or I’ll never finish this article. The reds were ready to go, leading off with three 1971s from , two jeros and a magnum, and all 96 points or better. There were still thirty-five wines more that I would end up tasting. The rabbit hole goes very deep at La Paulee, so it’s a good thing that Burgundy goes well with rabbit :).