Hey everyone, hope your summer was both relaxing and rewarding. I know it’s been a while since I wrote some solid tasting notes, apologies. I most definitely have been drinking, so don’t cry for me just yet. When you do as much business in six months as you did in the previous twelve, it’s a bit intense. And this Fall is going to be pretty close as well. Long live wine.

A record setting year is worthy of numerous recordable events full of long-lived wines, and I will be catching up a lot on the year’s most noteworthy events in the coming weeks. For no particular reason, I will begin with a lunch in Hong Kong. This was a lunch to which I was looking very forward, a showdown between the Right Bank’s five biggest names from three consecutive vintages, 2000, 2001 and 2002.

The 2002 Cheval Blanc began with a beautiful nose. It immediately struck Gil and I that 2002 was a delightful ‘drinking’ vintage, aka a vintage that drinks well in its youth. Some immediate satisfaction can be a good thing. Any top Chateau in Bordeaux will make wines that age twenty years, no matter what the quality of the vintage, and that was quite evident with the ’02 Cheval. It had a great nose full of cedar, nuts, smoke, minerals and a hint of glaze. Olive crept out as well. The palate had nice flesh and flavors of green bean and stalk. It was pleasant, balanced and long. It gained in the glass and closed the initial gap between it and the 2001, which was still the better wine (93).

The 2001 Cheval Blanc was more aromatic and perfumed, dancing in the nose with its great floral components. It was open and saucy, layered with enthusiastic sprinkles of spice. The palate came across just as densely as the nose indicated. It was chunky, chocolaty and more concentrated than the 2002. Vincent, aka ‘The Poet’ remarked, ‘its structure is so good, yet it’s also silkier than the 2000.’ Gil was energetically in the 2001 camp already (94)

2000 Cheval Blanc was the only wine that could finish this flight properly, and indeed it did. The level of freshness and depth was miles ahead of the previous two, its freshness ahead in a penetrating way. It was so fine and long. I loved the depth in the nose, where multiple flavors were singing loudly. Its rich, long palate was both fine and deep, with an edgy, sandy swagger. ‘Elegant, fine, long, fine, fresh’ all appeared repeatedly in my notes. Its finish had a lift that the others didn’t. The Poet decreed, ‘fantastic tannins, and the fruit is there’ (96).

It was now Ausone’s turn, beginning with the 2002 Ausone. The nose was much more concentrated, really dense, rich and saucy. There was a little animal and horse around the edges, and also a quality that was not dill, not citrus and not rosemary, but somehow a hybrid of the three. It was a big wine in the mouth, heavy, concentrated and thick. I preferred the Cheval, as the Ausone was drier and cedary, and it also had thinner flavors. Gil commented, ‘freshly carved roast beef’ but also conceded a ‘watery element in the middle.’ Vincent added, ‘fresh water lilies’ (91).

Gil opened the discussion on the 2001 Ausone with ‘back road Pennsylvania iron works deer hunter,’ perhaps reminiscing about his youth :). I liked the ‘01 much more, as it was more classic in the nose, full of ceramic crispness as well as great length and penetration. Aromas of mint, fir and chocolate glaze danced around its meaty core. The palate was fine, stylish and long, possessing that Cheval elegance despite it being all Ausone. It was crisp but also possessed that same cedary flavor that marred the ’02, although the ’01 kept it more in check(93).

The 2000 Ausone was likened to a ‘Tahiti beach’ with its very exotic nose. There were definite sunscreen and cocoa butter aromas, wrapped around a cedary centerpoint. While it was clearly the best of the three wines, all of the Ausones were quite similar in their personality and power, more similar than I would have expected given the diversity of style of these three consecutive vintages. Much to my surprise, three out of four in attendance preferred the Ausone to the Cheval! I was a bit surprised, as I clearly preferred the Cheval across the board (94).

While Ausone took an early lead amongst the awakening palates of our group, I was pretty sure that would change quickly, as flights of Lafleur, Petrus and Le Pin were next. The 2002 Lafleur was fresh and a real change of pace, clearly from a different territory. Gil observed ‘earthiness’ and ‘vertesse,’ aka a slight green. Alex noted ‘white pepper.’ It had a framework of cedar around a super deep plummy core. The Poet admired the ‘freshness of earth’ that climbed out of the terroir into our glasses. Its palate was thick, possessing hints of coffee grinds. This first Lafleur was long, earthy, full and big, and the least approachable 2002 so far. Its acidity really lingered; it possessed grip without length of tannins, however. ‘Rust’ came from the crowd. I vascillated between 92 and 93 points (92+).

The 2001 Lafleur had a kinky nose, very tropical with its sweet orange, citrus, passion and wild fruit aromas. I also loved the many shades of purple in its nose, which were deep and plentiful. The palate was rich, but more shut down than I remember. It was cleaner than the 2002, and despite it being shut down on the palate (for now), it was all there. The acidity lifted the wine up after some time, allowing a peek into what will be (95).

The2000 Lafleur was a WOW wine, clearly the most layered and exotic. The nose was deep and thick, a veritable Pomerol phenomenon. Hints of beef and plum rounded out its chunky soup nose. The 2000’s palate was also a bit shut down, but the 2000 couldn’t be contained like the ‘01. Rich, long and great, the ’00 possessed delectable supporting flavors of citrus, beef and dust. It told a glorious, long story on the finish, going on and on so elegantly. ‘Wow’ graced my notes again, along with a ‘roasted/grilled goodness.’ The 2000 Lafleur was strength without muscle, powerful yet deft, with the potential to age for decades (97).

The Petrus was certainly not afraid of the big, bad Lafleur, and the 2002 Petrus quickly showed why. It was the best of the 2002 bunch (what else is new). Fresh aromas of garden tickled my nose at first. It seemingly had great everything – fruit, spice, tang, sweet citrus, a hint of game and a ‘so sexy’ perfume. Alex agreed with me, hailing it ‘clearly the best of 02.’ Flavors of garden, pungent flower and great spice rounded out this beauty (94).

The 2001 Petrus was reserved and stylish. Gil was taken aback by its depth, declaring, ‘my word’ about it. There was more noticeable tannin here, yet it was still so fine. The 2002 was more showy, but the ’01 kept getting finer, like a beautiful woman slowly walking towards you from afar. Aromas of chocolate and secondary candle wax stood out, and the alcohol was also more noticeable. It got sweeter in the glass, and there was no doubting its greatness and potential. The 2002 was closer in quality than expected, though (95).

The 2000 Petrus was the wine of the day so far, without a doubt. There was so much more concentration than anything else. There were lots of wows, oohs and aahs around the room. It was deep with big fruit, like this exotic sweet berry oatmeal that said good morning in the perfect way on the perfect day. It was long and sexy with a beefy edge, and the wine didn’t budge in the glass, holding its ground longer than I could keep it out of my mouth (99).

Le Pin was the way we decided to end our afternoon, and the 2002 Le Pin jumped out of the glass with its tropical, exotic and unique personality. Its nose was penetrating and exciting. Then again, isn’t penetration always exciting? There were lots of dust, plum, citrus and spice aromas. The palate possessed richness and concentration, as well as exotic, sweet, fleshy, gorgeous, sexy flavors. Gil found it ‘more powerful’ and observed that it had the ‘longest time out of the bottle’ as well, perhaps opening its doors a bit more than those of the wines served earlier. The ’02 Le Pin was definitely singing and another impressively approachable 2002 (93).

My notes were starting to wane, and shockingly so did the last two wines. The 2001 Le Pin was spicy and fresh, possessing that flowery, exotic style, with a hint more wood than the 2002. I didn’t like the ‘01 at all after the ’02; it was thinner and simple (91?).

The 2000 Le Pin was no amazing grace either. Its nose was a combination of cat box and mango juice, and not much more. It was smooth and a bit kinky, but either the bottle was completely shut down or ‘off.’ Feng Shui Tony also found it ‘very disappointing’ (90?).

While the finish was a bit anti-climactic, this tasting was quite dramatic overall. It was a glimpse into early greatness, a fascinating comparison of both producer and vintage. In the end, almost 3 out of 5 tasters preferred Petrus. Some things never change.

When something of this magnitude occurs, people love to talk, so I thought I would speak a bit more myself about the Imperial Cellar and what went into making a catalogue of this magnitude.

We always take the utmost care in our consignment process, but in order to produce the greatest wine sale in Asian history, it was decided to take near-extreme measures to ensure that only the top quality was represented in a carefully constructed, detailed catalogue. It also made me, as a merchant, comfortable that I would be selling a product that not only meets, but indeed exceeds the market’s standards and expectations.

For a long time, I have been bothering the owner of the Imperial Cellar to sell from his collection; the response was always the same, ‘No, I am not selling.’ Again and again I would knock on the door, a bit louder each time. The answer was again the same, occasionally I would get, ‘I really like you, but I am not selling!’ A glass or ten was shared over the period of a couple years, and then one day I received an answer to my question that I no longer expected, ‘Ok, I will sell some.’

It was our vision to produce the greatest auction catalogue ever produced. This was no easy task. First, the collection had to be appraised. Weeks of work went into carefully analyzing recent market trends and results in the beginning, and an appraisal was generated towards the end of 2009. Three months later, with so much change and growth taking place in the marketplace, I did it again. For an entire week, I sat glued to my computer, day and night, capturing the market in real-time. It was a massive amount of data. I most definitely needed a drink every night that week!

Then it came time to go on location and inventory the cellar firsthand. A first pass was done on all the older and most significant wines by one of our independent consultants. I made a similar pass-through myself. I catalogued the most important wines first-hand. Once the wines were shipped back to New York, we had another third party consultant look at the wines to validate our work on the 19,000+ bottles. I could not be more confident in what is on offer. The owner of the Imperial Cellar was insistent that every bottle represent the highest quality possible out of his cellar, which is why we went through this extensive and additional process.

Working on the catalog was my version of giving birth this year, and the research put into it was like no other before. Crafting the sale order felt like my greatest masterpiece, and the introductions that came along with them took multiple rounds of edits and revisions. It is something of which I am very proud.
There was other help as well. Chateaux and Domaines were also contacted directly for important questions, and only positive feedback was received. Martine Saunier, the legendary US importer of Jayer, joined us for dinner in the home of the owner of the Imperial Cellar, for a magical evening of five fabulous wines from Henri Jayer. Before we drank, we looked at many wines from Jayer, and there were no issues brought up by Martine for wines she saw that were selected for the sale. The wines at dinner were, of course, magnificent (see notes later!). Speaking of which, this is an Acker auction, and you know wine is as important to us to drink as it is to sell. And drink we have. Many of you already know who the owner of the Imperial Cellar is, as he has been here with us in Asia opening up dozens of bottles from his cellar to share with everyone. In fact, close to USD$400,000 worth of superb wines will be opened here in Hong Kong before the end of this weekend courtesy of both of us; sixty-one cases in total. At Acker Merrall, we like to put our money where our mouth is. Everyone else is just mouth.

The owner of the Imperial Cellar also wanted to make sure everyone had the opportunity to taste for themselves the quality of what The Imperial Cellar is all about. It is this type of generosity that is yet another reason that this is arguably the greatest collection of all-time.

I know I haven’t been sending many tasting notes of late, even though I have still been taking many notes these past three months. This catalog is the reason why. After two weeks of events here in Asia already, I felt motivated to share a few with you. The first batch of notes began chez Imperial Cellar itself.

It started innocently enough with one bottle, one whose cork was a bit sunken although everything else for the bottle looked good, including its color. This 1945 Cheval Blanc was just begging to be consumed. It is only fitting that all these tastings would commence with Hong Kong’s own Good Doctor, who was in the States for a quick visit. Its sweet tang, old book and rusticity were accompanied by citrus sprinkles and back of the throat spice. ‘Powerful’ came from the crowd; that, of course, is 1945. In the glass it became velvety and lush, and everything was off to a good start (96).

Another dinner had us sipping on 1953 Canon. It was another beautiful, old bottle, full of autumnal but still red fruits. Hints of forest, chocolate and graham rounded out its delectable nose. The palate was a touch drier in its personality and had less fruit, but it still possessed nice acidity and a long and tender finish. ‘Supreme elegance’ came from Wolfgang, as well as ‘all 1953s are sweet’ from none other than Bipin Desai. Two significant seals of approval, indeed (93).

While working in the cellar, we drank a few goodies, but I was a bit careless in my notes. Three wines stood out in my memory, however, including arguably the greatest white wine that I have ever had. I don’t even know what else to say about the 1996 D’Auvenay (Leroy) Chevalier Montrachet. It was beyond incredible, in a place where words no longer have enough meaning to share the experience. Its aromas, texture, concentration, acidity and length were about as close to a perfect combination as one can find in a white wine. I can still taste it two months later (99) .

A 1998 Leroy Musigny was stellar. Its concentration transcended the vintage; 1998s do not have this kind of weight in general. Welcome to the magical world of Leroy, where amplitude rules, but terroir is not sacrificed. Its Musigny side came through with its graceful fruit flavors, which were a bit redder than I expected, which is not a bad thing. This was still a big wine, but somehow it danced, and the rest of the room stopped to watch (96).

A rare 1955 Lamarche La Grande Rue we drank for fun, and it delivered a smile. I don’t think we are offering any of this wine, so apologies in advance. It was in its sunset, full of delightful brown sugar sweetness and flavors, backed by earth, tobacco and citrus. It was mature, but still delicious (95).

Our biggest treat from the cellar was a night of Henri Jayer in the middle of our travails, five wines to be exact. Dinner was with Martine Saunier, who helped us sort some important facts and details about Henri Jayer, as well as inspecting numerous vintages with us.

We began with a 1985 Jayer Echezeaux, whose nose was all Jayer, all the way. ‘Fantastic fragrance,’ cooed Martine. Aromas of deep purple lilacs, flowers and fruits opened the door to a big, rich palate. It was a touch cold coming straight from the cellar, muting its finish at first, but after twenty minutes of air, its acidity started to sizzle. Musk, jasmine and other secondary spices emerged. Its perfume got sexier and sexier, and its finish got bigger and bigger. Mint, slate, forest, and all about the purple were other notes I took. Gil likened the ‘depth of nose sung like Madame Pompadou herself’ (96).

The 1988 Jayer Echezeaux was equally as impressive, but stylistically different. It had so much fruit for 1988, and Martine likened it to ‘a blossoming flower.’ This sang even louder in its nose. It, too, had that signature purple sexy back, along with musk, perfume, Asian spice and forest. A hint of mahogany cabinetry balanced out its enormous sweetness. It was meatier, bigger and brawnier than the ’85, and its sweet, musky, minty and thick finish were all that and then some (96).

A 1995 Jayer Vosne Romanee Les Beaumonts was a bit tight; its acid and youthful personality were almost beastly after the previous two wines. Its nose was rusty, spiny and cedary, typical 1995. Its nose bordered on pungent, black fruits were underneath, and that sweet Jayer sex appeal was lurking in the background. It was ‘more masculine and brutish’ per Gil, and its flavors were cedary and its finish huge. Secondary aromas and flavors of ceramics, coffee and herbal celery root came out to play. It was clear this wine wasn’t quite ready for us, and that we were disturbing it, but one had to respect it (93).

Ooh la la, ah oui oui. The 1999 Jayer Vosne Romanee Cros Parantoux redefined the word sexy. Martine hailed it as a ‘wild beast,’ and Gil observed, ‘gunpowder and Chinese black oolong tea.’ There was an ocean of fruit here; one had to swim through it to find structure on its shores. This was 1999 at its finest. The pitch was insane, shattering my nose as if it was meant to be an ear drum, and its perfume lingered like memories of a perfect home-cooked meal from Mom. While adolescent, its creamy, purple fruit said it was ready for the draft, and its nose was described as ‘fireworks,’ a ‘chameleon,’ and ‘spearmint.’ Thierry hailed it as ‘brighter, better and fresher’ than the great 1990, a bold statement, indeed. Its flavors were dessert-y without being sweet ”“ decadent, exotic, hedonistic, take your pick. Gil observed, ‘caramel crème brulee,’ and beef and citrus tried to join the party. This wine was bordering on pornographic, and we were all”¦in awe 🙂 (98).

Oops, I guess I should have updated my previous 96+ score in the catalog. Oh, well.

The last wine on this magical night was a 1993 Henri Jayer Vosne Romanee Cros Parantoux. Its deep, rusty nose was ‘Chambertin-like,’ per Gil, and Martine and our host immediately seconded that notion. It had that cedar and forest of Chambertin with a hint of sulfur. Thierry fell in love all over again; you know how French guys are lol. Its minerals and slate were impressively 1993. Its palate was thick and penetrating, and it kept opening in the glass. Its raw materials were unbelievable; black fruits, desert flavors, limestone kink and pure power came together as a ‘Brutus Opulentus,’ Gil mused. This was serious stuff (96+).

Well, that was a great night, and more would soon follow. The rest of the events were here in Asia, amongst the cities of Hong Kong, Shanghai and Beijing. Unfortunately I am out of time, so here is the very, very, very happy and abbreviated recap:

2000 Bordeaux Blind in Hong Kong

We did the same tasting back to back nights in Hong Kong and Shanghai and pitted the palates of these two great cities together against one another. Votes were taken at the end of each night with 5 points being awarded to first-place and one point to fifth-place. Over 60 people partook in HK; over 30 in Shanghai. My scores are in parentheses after the group’s favorites.

2010 has been a vintage year so far, not only for the wine market, but also for my liver. I have been fortunate to taste an incredible amount of great wines in the first two months of 2010, although I have only reported on my January trip to Hong Kong. Well, little ol’ New York still has plenty to say”¦and drink.

There are over a dozen great events that I want to write up, so I kind of picked one out of a hat and was instantly taken back to two glorious, consecutive nights celebrating the Hedonist’s 55th birthday. The first night was at Cru; I wasn’t technically at the dinner party downstairs in the private room, but since I was dining upstairs, there was some positive wine synergy occurring once we knew we were both there.

The Hedonist beat us to the punch by sending us up a couple of glasses of 1955 Bouchard Pere et Fils Corton Charlemagne. It smelled like old Chardonnay for sure, but still came across fresh. Aussie Adam cooed, ‘beautiful nose.’ Its nose was warm and mature, emitting rays of yellow sunshine, rainwater and a hint of yellow prune. Cobwebs glistening in due rounded out is nose. Its palate was smooth and satiny, possessing yeasty flavors and a tender finish (93).

I actually met Adam in Seoul, where he became my official tour guide when I made my first visit back in August of 2007. It was quite the evening; basically the first night prevented a second night from even happening. I believe the phrase ‘no mas’ applied. So when Adam told me he was in NYC, I had to return the favor, although just with dinner. We settled on a 1996 Roulot Meursault Perrieres to start, which just popped out the glass. There was great minerality to its nose, along with citrus, wax, and kernel. Adam found its nose, ‘classic Meursault.’ There were great smoke flavors, and its minerality kept flexing on the palate, as if it were doing reps on my tongue. It was absolutely gorgeous; I could not stop drinking it. It was a sensational wine from a sensational vintage for white Burgundy. Adam summed it up, ‘voluptuous nose, beautiful palate, elegant and fresh’ (96).

What was this, a glass of 1955 Latour a Pomerol, out of double magnum, nonetheless. Yes, they do exist, although after this night, maybe they don’t anymore! The Hedonist had blessed us again. Sir Robert noted, ‘wet, stony, leafy, almost Graves,’ but its core of plummy fruit and chocolate could only be Pomerol. Of course, Sir Robert’s observations were spot on, as always, and it did have these leafy and stony undertones, in a good way. Its palate was masculine, but its finish was feminine. ‘Gorgeous’ kept coming up in my notes, and its soft, chalky and long finish never lost sight of its decadent plum and chocolate core. Did I say gorgeous (95D)?

We started feeling frisky, and we wanted to reciprocate, so I selected one of my favorite, all-time wines, the 1985 Meo Camuzet Richebourg. This is a wine that would be on my top 100 of all-time, and after not having it for at least three or four years, it was good to see it still showing incredibly. Of course, Henri Jayer had his hand in the ’85 Meo, and many feel that Henri was the greatest winemaker ever in Burgundy. Consider the ’85 Meo Riche ‘Exhibit A.’ It had a ‘wow’ nose, layers upon layers cascading up into my nose. I literally felt like I was swimming in it. Pick a fruit, any fruit, as they were all seemingly there – red, purple, black and blue danced together freely, transporting us to a shiny, happy place, a veritable Woodstock for wine. Adam hailed it as ‘intoxicating,’ and ‘miles ahead of in 1985.’ Hey, he said it, not me! But, he was right, not to take away from the Riche, in and of itself a great wine, but the 1985 Meo Richebourg is just one of those wines that is one step beyond the rest. Incredibly complex, there was this magnificent floral component, along with distinctive and sexy Asian spices, an ocean of fruit, and even some morning fog. Smelling it was like looking out on a horizon of wine, endless in its possibilities and promise. Adam noted, ‘sap and pine tar, menthol and spring forest.’ All I could then see were naked nymphs. Adam cooed, ‘the whole world stops for a great bottle of Burgundy; armies could march past me right now, and I would still be sitting here.’ Here, here. No, seriously, here, give me the rest of your ’85 Meo; it was actually a wine over which wars are started (98)!

Jay had one more ’55 up his sleeve, a 1955 Figeac, another one of my favorite things. There is not a more underrated, under-appreciated property in all of Bordeaux. In the face of all these ‘garage’ wines getting so much acclaim, Figeac remains a beacon for classic winemaking. I’ll keep the Figeac in the cellar, all those other wines can stay in the garage J. Figeac does need more time to age and blossom than most St. Emilions; perhaps that is where its secrets lie. This Figeac didn’t have that problem even though it was served out of magnum since its vintage was ’55. The nose was blacker than I expected out of magnum, possessing black fruits, olives, forest and mint. It was so rounded, and so good. Flavors of olive, cherry oil, musk and hints of nuts graced its palate. Jay also had a bottle of the same wine, which was redder in its fruit and riper in its personality, although a touch more linear as well. Qualitatively, they were consistent. In the end and after time in the glass, it actually out-showed the Latour a Pomerol (95+M).

That was much more than I expected on this wintry evening. The next night was actually the main event, and Hollywood Jef had even flown in to help with the celebration. He was armed with a few bottles of Montrachet, so we surrendered quickly, beginning with a 1989 Montrachet. The ’89 had a warm, inviting nose of corn, light sweetness, butter and hints of orange and citrus spice. Its palate was round and smooth with light flavors of butter and minerals, lighter than one would expect from an ’89 Montrachet. It was a good vintage to start the vertical with accordingly. Those that know this wine know that ’89 was a bit of a disappointment for relative to its usual quality. Don’t get me wrong, it was still an excellent wine. A hint of that tropical kink developed, and while the wine was soft and polished, its acidity crept out more. It was almost latent, getting bigger in the glass but also a touch square. Lora, a former food editor and avid taster, found it, ‘elegant and perfect’ (93).

The 1991 Montrachet that followed had more exotic sweetness and lots of caramel. The Hedonist hailed it, ‘a different beast.’ Its color was much deeper, on a faster maturity track. Its nose was musky, and Lora found it ‘luscious.’ It was earthier and heartier than the ’89, quite rich in its personality, which also had more veggie flavors, in a good way, further flirting with bouillon. While a little wild and rugged, the 1991 was an excellent, mature Monty, qualitatively equal although stylistically different to the ’89 (93).

The 1979 Montrachet made us quickly forget about the previous two wines. It was a staggering example of great white Burgundy. The nose was so musky and nutty but deep, very deep, super sexy juice. There were exotic fruits abounding in the nose, hinting at guava without the sweetness, along with orange and other tropical impressions. Icicles also came to mind in its piercing and riveting nose. The palate was incredibly rich with insane depth. There were decadent coffee flavors and perfect sweetness; the marriage of musk and caramel was made in heaven, and the lobster risotto that followed took it up a notch. Amazing wine (98).

It was a tough act for the 1993 Montrachet to follow. Ron called out ‘bubblegum,’ while the Hedonist observed ‘odd fruit, more pear than Chardonnay, really.’ It was total pear, and after the comment, that’s all I could smell. It had a hint of liqueur, and while smooth and solid, it was no match for the ’79. I really like 1993 whites, although this one was less than I hoped it would be (92).

It was onto the reds, and some more ‘55s. The 1955 Haut Brion was all gravel, smoke and charcoal in its nose. It also had lots of band-aids, showing its back-sided qualities instead of its fruit. Laura observed, ‘smoky cinder box.’ The HB still had fruit in the mouth and enough cassis to build a bridge to its back side. Soft and fleshy, it was an outstanding HB (95).
It was paired, of course, with the 1955 La Mission Haut Brion. ‘Both are very good and as expected,’ the Hedonist asserted. The La Miss was deeper with more purple to its fruit, along with more spice and less gravel, also smoky but in a white direction. Jef found it ‘a little austere’ at first, and it was shy on the palate. Its treasures were more hidden in a brooding way, and it was clear that it had a longer life ahead of it than the HB. With that being said, it wasn’t in as giving a mood as other bottles I have had (95+).

The next flight was a celebrity death match ”“ 1982 Lafleur vs. 1990 La Tache, a wine equivalent of King Kong vs. Godzilla. For those of you that forget or may not know, a celebrity death match is where you taste two totally random wines from different regions against each other; in fact, I have a whole article coming up dedicated just to the concept. But I digress”¦

The 1982 Lafleur was a great bottle, kinky from the get-go. Of course, the Hedonist hailed it as ‘one of the greatest Bordeaux ever,’ as ’82 Lafleur has long been hailed as one of the most hedonistic wines ever made. Its nose was chocolaty and smoky, brimming with blue fruits. The palate was rich with a small spike of alcoholic power, along with benevolent flavors of stems and stalks. While tighter than I remember the wine being, which bodes well for the future, it still had that gamy, sweet fruit, that mature Lafleur mega-fruit rainbow spectrum. Its acidity and alcohol stood out from the crowd, and Jef noted, ‘licorice and lavender.’ This wine was poised and still ready for a long run (97).

The 1990 La Tache had a deeper and more expansive nose, very Sequoia-esque with its forest, garden, mushrooms and stalk. This was a great bottle of 1990, and it was ‘singing’ to Lora. The wood elements were noticeable but not offensive, and while the Lafleur was admittedly more enjoyable, the La Tache was the better wine, but the room was split down the middle, with three votes on each side. The texture, weight and length of the La Tache, though, was undeniable to me (98).

We brought things full circle with a 1997 Montrachet. The first thing that I thought was that this was the second-best Montrachet of the night, and it was. There was force in its nose, which was rippling with minerals, and plenty of citrus to back that thing up. This was a powerful Montrachet, and while there was a hint of botrytis, it was deliciously there, and the 1997 was long and racy without the race track. It stood up to the two incredible reds served beforehand (95).

There were six of us, and nine wines were down the hatch already, but somehow, there were actually three more wines served on this starry night. My notes were not so starry by this point, as I was definitely drinking to the last drop all night long with this lineup. A 1959 Latour was chalky, smoky and slaty, polished but not perfect, and a bit disappointing (93A). A 1955 Latour made up for it with its sweet fruit and what I called ‘A to Z greatness’ (95). A perfect 1955 Yquem rounded things out in fine fashion, just as it oughta be and then some (96+).

It was a stellar birthday celebration, a definite Hedonist production. There is one thing that I have learned over the years, a fact reinforced by this incredible night. Life is short, drink it.

I know I never got to writing up my last trip to HK in November, which included numerous great events and wines, so we will keep that in the vault for now. This past January, Hong Kong kicked off 2010 in fine fashion, not only on the sales floor, but also on the dinner table.

I actually missed my flight out to Hong Kong. I had planned my trip perfectly. The flight was 9:20AM, and the previous night I stayed up working with Samantha until 3am on the next HK catalog. Everyone else was already on their way. I slept about three hours, gathered my belongings and headed to the airport on schedule. If I could sleep shortly after take off, it would put me on HK time rather effectively, and some Ambien was in my pocket ready to assist. There was one small glitch; I forgot my passport. Yes, those three-hour nights of sleep after a night of work overload can cause small oversights. Fortunately, there was another flight at 2pm, and my plan was able to stay fairly on course, albeit delayed.

I arrived in Hong Kong around 6pm local time, and I had dinner plans with Hong Kong’s version of the Good Doctor. By the time I got out of the airport and freshened up, I was a bit late, so I missed the 1996 Salon. Something tells me it was still one of the best young Champagnes that I have ever had. Fortunately, I didn’t miss any other wines, as the lineup was fantastic. The Good Doctor definitely had the perfect remedies for any jet lag I might have been suffering. Not only were there great wines, but I was also treated to an incredible, home-cooked Shanghainese-style dinner, one of the best Chinese meals that I have ever had.

We started at the table with a 2004 Drouhin Montrachet Marquis de Laguiche. The Drouhin had a classy nose of sweet butter, yellow fruits, corn, minerals, wheat and caramel. The palate was beautiful, quite elegant for Montrachet, long and smooth. Master Vincent admired its ‘very long’ qualities, and there was nice grain on its finish. Wendy, the Angry Chick, was along for the ride and observed, ‘fresh lavender,’ and its palate got smokier in the glass (94).

The Good Doctor offered up some 1998 Cheval Blanc, and why not. He has over 50 cases of it. Have I mentioned how they like to drink it in Hong Kong? The nose on the Cheval was tight yet sexy, its great t ‘n a slowly unwinding in a seductive manner. It was feminine yet full, possessing lots of red fruits, peanut, wintergreen and ‘still very fresh tannins,’ per the Master. There was great spice in the nose, but the palate was still a baby, but what a baby. There was huge alcohol and acid here, with expressive and defined tannins. Vincent called it ‘a young frau.’ Flavors of rust, red fruits and a hint of licorice emerged, and while this wine was decanted over two hours prior, it tasted like it could have been decanted for twenty-four hours and still come across youthfully. It still maintained a heavenly elegance despite all of its power. This is definitely an undervalued Cheval at the moment (96).

Wendy brought along a perfect bottle of 1975 Petrus. Vincent told us, ‘along with La Mission and Haut Brion, Petrus harvested early before the rain,’ which accounted for why these three wines were so good in ’75. Wendy observed ‘leather,’ while the Good Doctor just found it ‘gorgeous.’ The nose was ripe and kinky, like meat in the sun in a good way. Its fruit dripped black and purple, and aromas of black olive rounded out its nose. The palate was enormous and endless; its finish said fifty more years to go. Its palate was deliciously gamy and full of royal purple flavors. There was enough t ‘n a here for the Dallas Cheerleaders, and its thick tannins formed a perfect truce with its wealth of fruit. I could not stop drinking it (97).

Where could we go from here? 1989 Haut Brion, now there’s a good idea. This wine has been popping itself open around me about once a month for the past six. I could get used to that. It is and will be one of the greatest wines ever made in Bordeaux. Period, paragraph. The nose screamed great; its smoky and charcoal-laced fruit was as black as midnight. While fat and voluminous, it was also perfumed, and its posture was perfect. This bottle had even more fruit than the one I had in Bordeaux; it was as good as this wine can get. The Good Doctor also knows his provenance and storage; it says a lot when a bottle in HK can be even better than a bottle in Bordeaux itself! Vincent was admiring its concentration. Its palate was cedary, thick, long, gritty and grainy, almost Pomerolesque in its fruit. I had a flash of 1989 Petrus. The 1989 is an explosive wine that destroys everything in the room without anyone even hearing a sound, and this bottle was no different and as good as I ever remember it being (99).

There was one wine left on this magical beginning to this month’s HK venture, my 1996 La Tache. This bottle delivered an outstanding experience, more so than the bottle I had about six months ago at Bipin’s weekend. It had that ‘wow’ factor, even after some stiff competition from Bordeaux. This was more like the 1996 La Tache I remembered, with more meat on its bones. There was lots of winter in its nose, like cedar in a frozen forest. Mint and layers of penetrating t ‘n a rounded out its cavernous nose. The acid of 1996 was shining brightly here, and flavors of mint and menthol lined up like soldiers for its forceful palate. It was rich, saucy, hearty and long, and its fruit has finally fattened out just enough for it to be ‘next level,’ although I could see the monstrosity of its acid not being for everyone. Vincent observed ‘milky’ characteristics, part of its green tannin flavors, which were delicious in a foresty way. I vascillated between 96 and 97 points until the last drop, so let’s call it (96+).

It was a good start to the week in HK, but it was just beginning. Lunch the next day with Vincent provided an interesting head-to-head match-up of 1994 Sassicaia versus 2001 Lafite. The 1994 Sassicaia was ‘very Bordeaux-like’ per Gil, but the ‘olive hints at Italian.’ There was green bean in its nose, and a tangy undercurrant as well. Gil continued on to call it ‘olive juice.’ The palate was gamy and tangy with flavors of citrus, olive and stewed fruit flavors. Its tannins were dry, and its aftertaste full of oak, too much of it, in fact. The nose was better than the palate, and it was a bit sour (87).

The 2001 Lafite Rothschild had a gorgeous nose, with classic aromas of cedar, cassis, pencil and sweet, open fruit. There was much more volume here, and Alex found it ‘voluptuous.’ The palate was round and coy, its hidden acidity slowly emerging. Its tannins, too, were on the dry side and hints of oak, soy and salt led to a fish ‘n chips impression. Pretty and polished, long and with nice citrus twists, the Lafite was an excellent wine (93).

That very same night had us hosting sixty people for an evening of 1990 Left Bank Bordeaux. We didn’t tell anyone in advance that it would be blind; there were fifteen wines served, and at the end we tallied everyone’s top five wines (5 points for first, 1 point for fifth). The results were fascinating.

Now before I begin, I will actually revert back to November and include one event where I was hosted by one of my favorite tasting groups in Hong Kong, the AlcoholiHKs. This group of young financial wizards is always a lot of fun to be around and epitomize passion for the grape, although you don’t want to find yourself alone with Jerome after midnight. Trust me. The evening that they hosted for me in December served as a pre-cursor for our own event, and about eight of us gathered at the Hong Kong Country Club for a quartet of 1990 clarets.

The wines were served single blind, meaning we all knew the lineup but not the order. After evaluating the wines over a period of time, I was able to identify each of the four correctly, thankfully. Once in a while I get something right!

The 1990 Margaux had a deep, elegant nose with a hint of cinnamon. The nose also had cassis fruit and grilled nuts and meats. Deeper and deeper the nose went, down an Alice in Wonderland hole of elegance. Rich and delicious in the mouth, the Margaux didn’t lose any of its elegance on the palate, and its smooth and satiny style set the stage for flavors of purple fruits, nuts, grapes, musk, minerals and slate. The wine smacked on its finish (95).

The 1990 La Mission Haut Brion was more pungent with a hint of wheat grass at first. Hints of windex, nuts and animal rounded out its furry nose. The palate was full of gravel and alcohol with lots of dirty purple and charcoal flavors. It was clearly the lightest of the four, but it had excellent acidity to its finish. Gritty, grainy and gravelly, the La Miss also had a hint of green bean flavors (93).

The 1990 Haut Brion had the deepest nose of the four wines. There was thick, sweet, sappy fruit, and the nose had a good stink emerging from the streets of its smoky city. Gamy and chunky in both the nose and the mouth, the HB was rich, long and delicious. Its flavors were peanutty with a hint of kinky, and there was ample supporting slate. The HB had the most power of our quartet (96).

The 1990 Latour was fabulous. This was the second knockout bottle of this wine I had had within the month. Its sweet nose was inviting and open, more showy than any other wine. Its trio of musk, cedar and cassis was pure nose candy, and fresh, honey-roasted walnuts rounded out its sexy aromatics. It was so delicious, classic and the freshest palate of them all, showing lots of tasty pencil flavors. There was also great cedar to the palate, which was less ripe than the nose led me to expect, and the 1990 Latour was the best balanced of the four wines, providing an equal ratio of fruit and finish (97).

Now back to January, the 28th to be exact, and the fifteen wines and forty-five bottles we had assembled. Gil was in charge of the order of wines served, and the only one who knew which wine was what. I played along. At the end, we tallied everyone’s top five wines and revealed the identity of each wine from the least favorite wine of the night to its most popular, which is always fun.

The first wine had a clean nose with hints of green olive and bean, gamy in that direction. Its fruit was meaty, and its aromas were rich and hearty with nice spice. Cedar and minerals emerged from underneath, as did traces of leather. It was very open compared to the second wine, and while its fruit had some richness, its body was lighter in style. The wine with which it was served knocked it back a bit. Peter of the AlcoholiHKs nailed the wine ”“ it was the 1990 Gruaud Larose (93).

The second wine had ‘very dry tannins,’ and ‘ginger flowers’ in its nose per Vincent. The nose was very shy at first, possessing faint peanut. This wine was all about what I call ‘backside’ elements ”“ leather, cedar and minerals. The acidity was superb, and the wine was very long on the palate; it kept coming out more and more with time in the glass. Classy, long and minerally, this was still young and possessed very fresh tannins. Vincent and I were convinced it was the Chateau Margaux, but it was the 1990 Ducru Beaucaillou. It was impressive, but its subtle style did not stand out for many on this night (95).

The next flight was three wines, and the first was very chocolaty in its nose, more like cocoa powder. There were bigger and blacker fruits, and supporting smoke and dust. Additional aromas of cedar, carob, almost soy and a little hoisin rounded out the nose. The palate was concentrated, big and beefy with a thick finish, and excellent balance and acidity. This plump 1990 Pichon Lalande was quite pleasing and an excellent wine. For it to get 79 points from the world’s most regarded critic of Bordeaux is a bit confusing; there must be a batch of this wine that is not on par with the rest? I was surprised to see a second consistent note posted recently in June of 2009. Things that make you go hmmmmmm (93).

The next wine was a lot greener, closer to the Gruaud in style, but with less flesh and more peanut. It was lighter in its nose with some sweet plum and prune. The Good Doctor defended its length, and it did gain in the glass a bit. Vincent was suspecting this was the Lalande; he was only a wine late, and I completely saw his reasoning. Flavors of olive and game rounded out this 1990 Palmer (92).

The third wine of this second flight was deeper in its nose and possessed more oak. Cedar blended in, but its oak was still noticeable. The wine was long and gritty, cedary and leathery but marred by the oak. There were lots of forest flavors as well, but the fact of the oak remained. The Good Doctor didn’t like its flavor, and it was his least favorite wine so far. It was very dry, long and closed, and while there was good acid here, there was no fruit up front on its palate. I was stunned to learn later that this was the 1990 Margaux. Based on my experience two months prior, this showing was not consistent. I know bottle and variation are dirty words in Bordeaux when used together”¦more things that make you go hmmmmmmm (92?).

The third flight led off with a wine that had a big, warm nose fill of sweet, purple cassis. There was great musk and spice, excellent nut, and an almost creamy impression. The palate was rich, hearty and long with outstanding acid and outstanding tannins. Its finish was huge, really big, the biggest so far by a long shot. It had a tidalwave of a finish. The Good Doctor observed, ‘almond,’ and I added extract. This was a great showing for the 1990 Leoville Las Cases, and ultimately my wine of the night (96+).

It was paired with a wine that was much less impressive. This next wine was very green in the nose with lots of bell pepper. Its palate was lighter with chalky green flavors, as well as wet hay ones and a horsey and gamy personality. I guessed Montrose or Mouton. It was the latter, and this 1990 Mouton Rothschild seemed more mature than the average 1990 on this night, and disappointing overall (89).

The first wine of the fourth flight had a waxy nose which was deep and big. Aromas of game, spice and a touch of freshly painted wood were present. The palate was rich, saucy and smoky. I then wrote how almost every wine served on this night had a great finish, but this one was a bit bigger than most. Rich, fresh and balanced, this 1990 Haut Brion was fairly consistent with the bottle I had had two months prior (95+).

As was the 1990 La Mission Haut Brion that followed. The La Miss had lots of coffee in its nose, along with green bean and minerals. Hints of hoisin and peanut rounded it out. Long and dry, it was coy at first, expanding a bit later on (93).

The 1990 Lynch Bages was all about the coffee as well, more grinds than fresh brew. There was a powdery edge to the nose, and hints of animal and green bean lingered. The palate was rich, but the finish was softer, especially once I considered what it was later on. There was a touch of a synthetic quality to its flavors, and it was exotic in its cinnamon and cedar (93).

Bottle variation reared its head again with the eleventh wine served on its night. The first bottle had a rubber tire nose. There was cassis and fruit behind that, along with asparagus and animal. The flavors were all asparagus, and the finish was out of balance. ‘Tarry and leathery’ came from Vincent. He continued, ‘its earthiness is on the Northern side.’ This first bottle of 1990 Pichon Baron was barely (90). The second bottle I tasted was spectacular; there was a thick ocean of deep fruit along with smoke, charcoal, gravel and rich tobacco flavors (95). It just goes to show you that it always comes down to the bottle, and while wines are more consistent than they are not, there is variation.

The wine that was paired with the Baron was quite pungent, possessing glue in its nose at first. Brooding fruit and lurking oak peered out from the shadows of this behemoth’s nose. There were lots of peanut flavors and sweet cassis fruit, and this wine had excellent length and balance, gaining and expanding in the glass. It was a 1990 Latour, and while not as good as my two recent experiences, it was still outstanding (95).

The last flight was upon us, and my notes were a bit briefer. We had to start gathering everyone’s votes and then tally them, so I rushed through this flight a bit more than the others. The first wine was a classic and great. It was all about the cedar, supported by morning cereal, yeast and even a hint of coconut. Its palate had excellent citric tension, and it was nice to see a good show for the ‘house’ wine, so to speak, as this was the 1990 Chateau Lafite Rothschild (95).

The second to last wine of the night would ultimately become the group’s wine of the night. The nose was open and exotic, full of blackberry fruit in its nose. The palate was rich and saucy, with coffee grind and earth flavors and a meaty and dense personality. It was a Dr. Jekyll bottle of 1990 Montrose, which can often be green and unpleasant, but this was obviously one of the ‘good’ bottles that received so many accolades (95).

The last wine would be a disappointing 1990 Cos d’Estournel. It was sweet and almost cough syrupy, very different from my memories of this wine. It was very cherry and too sweet (91?).

We took everyone’s top five votes, five points being awarded to first place, and one point being awarded to fifth place. Here were the results:

1) Montrose (101 votes)
2) La Mission (97 votes)
3) Haut Brion (76 votes)
4) Lynch Bages (75 votes)
5) Lafite (62 votes)
6) Las Cases (56 votes)
7) Margaux (55 votes)
8) Mouton (53 votes)
8) Pichon Lalande (53 votes)
9) Pichon Baron (46 votes)
10) Latour (39 votes)
11) Cos (34 votes)
12) Ducru (27 votes)
13) Palmer (24 votes)
14) Gruaud Larose (13 votes)

So, what to make of all this data? First of all, I should say that often in these types of tastings, the wines at the end of the tasting get more unintentional favoritism. Their impressions are more recent, the earlier wines have been consumed and are long gone, etc. There is also a pack mentality that happens, i.e., the quality of wines tend to converge a bit more than when served non-blind. Lesser wines get more benefits of the doubt, as the mind sends subliminal messages ”“ ‘but what if this is the Margaux?’ And the opposite happens for the better wines, ‘but what if this is Gruaud Larose, that couldn’t be my favorite.’ The real surprises for me were the La Mission and Lynch Bages in the group’s top five. Both were excellent wines but did not stand out for me as much as the group. I was also surprised how high the Mouton scored given its green personality, a personality consistent with other experiences of the wine. Certainly, the Pichon Baron might have snuck into the top five if that one bottle wasn’t as off as it was. I am not surprised that the Ducru didn’t show well even though I really liked it, although it would be interesting to know what would have happened if it was in the last flight rather than the first. Cos was disappointing, as I am a fan of the 1990 and the estate in general since 1982. The biggest disappointment had to be the Chateau Latour; while I found it better than most, I was stunned to see it in the bottom third. After having this wine on two occasions within the previous two months, I was convinced that Latour would win and that it is the Left Bank wine of the vintage; it was that good both times prior. These tastings are always fun because they consistently show that just when you think you know all the answers, someone changed the questions.

The next day was Friday, the day of the auction, and we were joined by renowned and respected importer Martine Saunier, who joined us to help celebrate the sale of her personal collection of Henri Jayer. What better way to celebrate than sample seven of Henri’s wines over lunch at Restaurant Petrus in the Island Shangri-La.

The 1988 Henri Jayer Vosne Romanee was an excellent beginning and about as impressive a 20-year old AC wine as I have ever had. Its sweetness and perfume were so balanced, and its deep purple nose accompanied by delightful aromas of game, leather and violet. This was a deep and expansive wine. Martine reminded us that 1988 was ‘a very hot vintage’ and ‘extra tannic.’ The palate had flavors of ‘rose hips’ per Wendy, vitamins, leather and ‘cranberry’ per Gil. Its acidity was impressive, and great caraway flavors developed. Wendy admired its ‘soft, floral Grand Cru nose,’ and hints of cedar rounded out its finish. This was a drinker’s Burgundy, for sure (93).

The 1989 Henri Jayer Vosne Romanee Cros Parantoux had a deep chocolaty nose that was tight and full of t ‘n a. Aromas of black fruits and cola were also present. The palate was big, brawny and muscular, full of spice. It was earthy and long, but I must confess that the charm of the previous wine was so divine, that it almost stole the Cros’ show. The palate was thick and cedary, rich and close to outstanding, very foresty in its flavors. It was clearly the ‘better’ wine with a longer future, but I would rather drink the ’88 today. The Cros got a ‘wow’ from Gil, along with ‘caramel’ (94+).

The next flight was a trio of Echezeaux, beginning with a 1991 Georges et Henri Jayer Echezeaux. Martine told us that the Georges bottling is the same as the exclusively Henri bottling, and since the market pays much higher prices when Georges’ name isn’t on the bottle, the smart money is on Georges. This ’91 was singing in the nose, which was a deep, dark, purple forest. There was incredible sweetness and spice. Cassis, currant, blackberry, cranberry and so much musk were all there. Its signature style of rose hips, vitamins, citrus spice box and mahogany let you know this was all Jayer. The palate was rich, sensual and balanced, so classy, silky and sexy that it felt like drinking negligee. It was absolutely gorgeous (95).

The 1990 Henri Jayer Echezeaux had a lot going on in its nose. It was heavy and thick, beefy, brothy and foresty, with that citrus pitch and spice. It was like a forest sledgehammer, so thick and sweet, displaying that purple signature style. The palate was rich with endless acidity that was still somehow reined in. The palate was so rich, so saucy, so concentrated, so spectacular. It also had that cedary, foresty edge to its flavors. If the 1991 was a girlfriend, the 1990 was a bodyguard (97).

The 1989 Henri Jayer Echezeaux was more gamy and a little figgy, more exotic than the other Ech’s. It was very forward with a little tutti frutti there. Gil found ‘yogurt’ in the nose. The palate was big and hearty but both ‘89s showed some squareness, and that grainy, cola-flavored personality was also consistent for both (93).

Martine told us how ’89 had nice weather and was a good wine, but the 1990 was forceful and amazing. It was ten years before the 1990’s came out of their seclusion. 1991 was a shadow year, lost in the shadow of 1990, but she thought it was sensational from the beginning. In fact, she bought more 1991 than 1990! She hailed its perfect balance, and said that Lalou Bize-Leroy likened it to 1959, a vintage that was always good from the very start.

The 1982 Henri Jayer Echezeaux was open and milky, redder in its fruit profile and rusty. 1982 was ‘a big harvest, so people that made too much wine didn’t make great wines.’ The palate was rich and full of decadent strawberry fruit, bright, saucy and long. Hints of wheat and lavender rounded out this exotic wine, which was a testament to how masterful Henri was in the so-called ‘off’ vintages. Martine would later say, ‘he never made a bad bottle’ (95).

We finished with a 1982 Henri Jayer Richebourg, of which there was only a barrel or two every year. The Riche had aromas of forest, boullion cubes, spice and mahogany. It was rich, concentrated, thick and long, with lots of leather, cedar and dust in the mouth. Flavors of red fruits, tomato, garden, stalk and more cedar undressed themselves layer after layer on its hearty palate. The 1982 Jayer Richebourg was like a strip-show for the mouth, complete with the bill (96).

The auction saw fireworks out of the glass and on the sales floor. Numerous wines were sampled and consumed during the auction, and two stood out for me above all the rest. Wendy had brought a 1955 Dom Perignon which was in perfect condition. It was just delicious. The nose had straw, hay, vanilla, cream, caramel, rain, wheat, crackers, musk”¦there was a lot going on. It was rich and tasty, very saucy and still with a lot of pop to it. There was great balance, a youthful personality but mature flavors. It was everything one could want in a vintage Champagne (97).

I had brought a magnum of 1996 Latour to share with a few people, and it was outstanding and bordering on that next level, as usual. Out of magnum it was a bit tight, but it was the typical brooding beast that young Latour can be. All the elements were there ”“ black fruits, walnuts, minerals, earth. It felt mountainous in the mouth but was still graceful and stylish in its presence. This will be an all-time great Latour (96+).

The auction was a tremendous success, posting over 99% sold and over $7.6 million on the gross. On Sunday night, we celebrated with a few close friends and decided to make Martine drink Bordeaux. She was in Hong Kong, after all.

The 1996 Dom Perignon Rose was consistent with all my previous experiences. Very dry, citrusy and tangy, it has the potential to blossom, but it is a bit mean at the moment. I do not think it is in the elite category of DP Roses, and I would rather have many, many other 1996s before this, at least for now (93).

We actually did serve a couple of Burgundies first. We didn’t want Martine to start getting the shakes lol. A 1961 Clos de Tart smelled great. There was lots of rust, bright citrus and intense t ‘n a. Hints of violets, rose petals and game rounded out its complex nose. It had long acidity on the palate, as good ’61 Burgs are prone to have. I was discussing recently with Wilf, and he thinks it might be considered the best of the decade before all is said and done. 1961 always seemed lost in the shadows of ’61 Bordeaux and ’62 Burgs, but I must agree that the ones I have had of late are fantastic. This was no exception, and its brick flavors, pinches of Worcestershire and strawberry/rhubarb action all added up nicely. Gil noted, ‘a little VA, but who cares.’ A hint of vanilla ice cream and creamy root beer floated its way into the equation, and this wine was tasty and possessed great rusticity. The thing I liked most about the bottle was the Acker sticker on the back 🙂 (94).

A 1955 Clos de Tart Vandermeulen bottling was a bit controversial. Martine noted ‘coffee’ right away, and that it was ‘not pure.’ It tasted very chocolaty and fruity, and definitely not 100% pure. The question became, when and where did the doctor operate, and the relativity theory of its authenticity came into play. If it was real, i.e., actually released by Vandermeulen, but it was so doctored, was it still real? That kind of stuff. It was quite fruity and young, a little Syrah-ish, definitely more New World than old, and tough to drink next to the 1961 (88?)

We played a game of bottle variation with two bottles of 1926 Cos d’Estournel, secured from the auction the previous day, actually. The first had a gorgeous nose, classic with its great cedar, cobwebs, smoke and positive hints of vanilla, lemon and rubber. It had a divine perfume without being perfumed, if that makes sense. I loved its dust and spice in the mouth, and it was far superior to the second bottle (94). The second bottle was not as perfumed; ironically, its color was younger even though it was from the same batch. The nose was a bit more closed, purpler and danker, although Gil was in its camp at first. I thought it was shy, and perhaps a hint off (90?). If winos were football players, the above is what we would call, ‘Any Given Sunday.’

Horace brought a bottle of 1948 Haut Brion he picked up at a great price at one of our auctions. It was very dry in the nose with lots of charcoal, straw, smoke, citrus and a pinch of penetrating horseradish. The palate was citrusy and tangy, with nice definition of its tannins. There was this bamboo jungle edge that emerged in the nose, and the palate became rich, bordering on saucy, but kept in bounds by its ceramic framework. It was long, elegant and poignant, and an excellent, old HB (94).

Vincent brought a bottle of 1962 Lafite Rothschild, one that we weren’t even sure was a 1962 until a thorough investigation of the cork. The vintage was illegible on the torn label, and the cork was eroded/faded to the point where it was very difficult to see the vintage, but ultimately I found the brand. Sometimes corks can fade or erode and be difficult to read, even when the wine is 100% legit, as this Lafite was. There was a kiss of cardboard in the nose, but behind it was a wealth of fresh fruit, along with carob, chocolate and pencil. Gil noted, ‘a little bandage.’ The palate was pretty as all heck, delicious with beautiful balance and natural, mature flavors that still came across fresh. Its silky, velvety mouthfeel caressed my palate gracefully (95).

The 1947 Vieux Chateau Certan stole the show, however. It had a deep, special nose, a veritable ocean of plummy sex. Alex observed, ‘jasmine,’ and found it ‘pure.’ Hints of garden and tree bark complemented the nose, but it was all about the Pomerol fruit. The palate was rich, saucy and concentrated, pure decadence. Its pure fruit flavors of plum and cassis were mature in their complexity yet youthful in their personality, just as it ought to be. It was lush and long but integrated, with its tannins and alcohol melted into its wealth of fruit. Wow (98).

There was one last wine to this amazing week in Hong Kong, and that was a 1962 Magdelaine, reconditioned at the Chateau in 1991. This was a ‘good’ reconditioned bottle, one that still retained the original personality of the wine. The nose was sweet and sexy with lots of red fruits, wintergreen and nice pitch and spice. The palate was similar, and while the wine still had that reconditioned polish, it was an excellent bottle of wine (93).

What a week. Great food, great friends and great wines. That’s what life is all about. I returned to New York, where I was reminded right away that we still know how to drink here in NYC. Stay tuned.