Recently, I spent 24 hours in Bordeaux, swooping in like agent Jack Bauer for my own version of the wine world’s ‘24.’ Fortunately, there were no casualties, and while no deadly fruit bombs were discovered, there were many explosive wines that we systematically defused while there through the tried and true method of consumption. Agents Desai, Grunewald and Woolls were already on the scene when I arrived, investigating three vintages of Pichon Lalande over lunch at the Chateau.

The 1996 Pichon Lalande was a classic, an ‘archetype’ as someone noted. Its finesse didn’t suffer from a higher percentage of Cabernet Sauvignon. Gildas of Pichon Lalande explained to us that the last ten or so vintages of Pichon have had a higher percentage of Cabernet in the final blend as the Cabernet has been more ripe than before over the last decade. Was this global warming, we inquired? The answer was a definitive no; it was rather that famed oenologist and Robert Parker favorite Alain? Reynaud pushed everyone to pick later. Nuts, minerals, pencil, cedar and cassis were all in harmony in the nose, and the palate was polished in that Pichon way. Its flavors were black, purple and delicious with nice nut and cassis overtones. I have always liked this wine from the moment it was released (94).

The 1982 Pichon Lalande was much more open, with hints of coffee in its nose and more gamy fruit. It was musky and husky, with hints of corn oil and sweet fruit. Signature nut and pencil were there, and the pencil really started to take over in the nose with some air. Flavors of cassis, green bean and olive were present in this tasty wine, with more pencil on its finish. It was lush, round and rich with great black fruit flavors, and its olive became blacker in style. Someone called it ‘reductive’ (96).

The 1953 Pichon Lalande had a gorgeous nose, peanutty at first. It reminded me of the 1982 in terms of the richness in its nose, although there was no green olive here. The green olive did show up a little on the palate curiously enough, and Wolf admired its ‘nice concentration for the vintage.’ It was certainly the best older Pichon Lalande that I had ever had, and its nutty and smoky palate also had hints of coffee a la the 1982. There was a bit of exotic green to the palate with its olive and even apple qualities. Its sweet fruit had honey and hints of autumn, iron, slate and ceramic, with curds and whey on its finish. A bit of exotic berry came out with a refill, and one hour later, this wine still had me licking the roof of my mouth. It was certainly outstanding, and Bipin likened 1953 to 1985. He then went on to say how 1982 was ‘not a great vintage, only twenty Chateaux are surreal, the rest are quite volatile’ (95).

It was time to taste some 2008s, so we ventured off to Lafite. After a few pleasantries with Charles Chevallier about Lafite’s popularity and how the price of the Carruades has also soared, it was interesting to see the respect that the Chateau had for Duhart Milon. Why not change the name to Duhart de Lafite? Well, Duhart Milon was a separate property recognized by the 1855 classification, and even though Lafite could also absorb Duhart into Lafite and increase production, they are committed to this property. Charles commented how he thinks, ‘Duhart is the investment wine.’

The 2008 Carruades de Lafite was a blend of 51% Cabernet and 45% Merlot, and it had a grapy, inky nose. There was pleasant musk and a sprinkle of dusty chocolate. Its fruit was fat, grapy and nutty with hints of lavender. The palate has nice richness, mostly baby fat, and its vimful finish had nice leather qualities. One could see the Merlot here, and hints of coffee grinds rounded out its finish (91).

The 2008 Duhart Milon had more reserve to it, showing only cedar and cinnamon at first. Its classic style had only a hint of that baby fat fruit in the background that a young claret usually displays nowadays. The palate was mild and elegant, not fat, possessing nice cedar flavors. Its drier tannins proved more serious than the Carruades, with real lift on the finish. Charles admired its ‘fresh fruit, good acidity and supple tannins.’ He kept going back to the word freshness (93).

The 2008 Lafite Rothschild had a distinguished nose, and a warm, oven-baked goodness to its nose, just like Mom used to make lol. There was not only cinnamon, but more really cinnamon toast with a granulated sweetness and even a hint of butter. Its deep fruit was laying low in the background, also elegant and reserved like its sibling Duhart, but more omni-present. There were blacker fruit flavors here, with lots of supporting, youthful leather. Its finish was fuller, longer, deeper and stronger than the Duhart, very dry times two with its powerful tannins. Its serious length kept going and going, and Charles commented how ‘great terroirs auto-regulate pH, acid and alcohol’ (95).

It was off to Mouton to do a similar lineup, beginning with the 2008 D’Armailhac. There was nice toast and a pungent, Windex core with meaty cassis and solid minerals. Its palate was round and pleasant with nice flavors of smokehouse, cassis and coffee, but it was clearly simpler, especially after tasting the Mouton, which dropped it like a pretender (89).

The 2008 Clerc Milon gave me a similar impression that the Duhart did after tasting the Carruades. There was lots of cinnamon and more reserve here, although there was more purple floral action here. Round, soft and simple, it was very good but not as good as the Duhart (91).

The 2008 Le Petit Mouton is a relatively new wine for the Chateau, and perhaps they should relegate it back to the cellar for a few more years, as it was quite average at best. Its nose was gassy and possessed a lot of farm action, and not in a good way. I’m talking compost, animal, wet hay. The palate was aggravatingly pungent and difficult to drink, although it did get a little better with some air. Perhaps it was just this particular bottle (80?).

Thankfully, there was still the 2008 Mouton Rothschild. ‘Back to Jesus,’ I wrote. The nose was distinguished and elegant, long and foresty with lots of Asian and cinnamon spice. The palate was clearly outstanding from first sip. There was great balance yet also deft agility to its clean, long and fresh personality. There were great flavors of cedar and this hybrid of chocolate and caramel that was dry and not sweet. The nose produced a secondary hint of waterfall, and a hint of animal and fur joined the palate. The ’08 Mouton had great pitch, and was ‘fat’ per Bipin. It was definitely had more game than the Lafite, and in New York City, that would be a good thing 🙂 (95).

It was off to Margaux, where the incredibly warm and welcoming Paul Pontallier was at our service. Whenever I see Paul, I just feel like I am at home, no matter where I am. He is a true ambassador for Bordeaux and, of course, Chateau Margaux. We started with a 2008 Pavillon Rouge du Chateau Margaux. Its nose was pretty, perfumed yet full. There were still stern minerals enveloping its backbone of fruit. Earth and minerals kept creeping out more, as did a hint of hay. The palate was fresh, light and pleasing, but still cedary and with some heat and a touch of spiciness on its finish. The palate was clean, showing mahogany flavors. Paul admired its ‘purity and aromatic complexity’ (91).

We talked a bit about the 2008 vintage for a minute with Paul. ‘The freshness of the vintage and the fact that it is easy to drink is equal to the 2004. It is not as dense and packed as ’06, but it is easier to drink. There are good levels of ripeness, balance and density, but it is softer and doesn’t pretend to be a great vintage. At the same time, Pavillon Rouge will be great to drink after 20 years. 1999, 2001, 2004 and 2008 are the key vintages for the cellar, as they are delicious and will be for at least another twenty to thirty years.’

We were told that the 2008 Margaux was almost 90% Cabernet. The nose was fine and elegant like the back of a woman’s neck. It had a hint of everything ”“ iron, spice, cedar, cinnamon, musk and purple fruits and flowers. Its aromas were so long in an elegant way, but its palate was rich and expansive. Bipin found ‘the end of mouth amazing.’ Rich and delicious, this was the tastiest of the First Growths that we had sampled on this afternoon, and while it still had backside, it was more reined in and balanced than either of the Rothschilds, aka not as powerful. Someone noted, ‘great length and nice density.’ There was a hint of field green in a great way that someone called ‘fresh mint,’ and Agent Woolls found its ripeness typical of Napa mountain fruit. It certainly was the most drinkable and charming of the Firsts (94).

We were treated to a couple of other recent vintages, beginning with the 2007 Margaux, which was bottled five months prior. The nose was quite mild compared to the 2008, with a hint of wet hay and light spice cabinet. Bipin liked its nose and perfume, and a little iron rounded out the nose. The palate was round but soft, ‘elegant and silky,’ but light in its tannins. It was pleasant and easy, but deceptively so as it kept gaining in the glass with time. I think it still had a bit of bottle shock to shake off, as it soon became excellent, giving off what I called, ‘Thanksgiving sex appeal.’ That’s when you get to baste the turkey 🙂 (93).

We expected 2006 to be next but were treated to the 2005 Margaux instead! At first, the ’05 seemed very shut down. While there was cedar and dust there, I was shocked to find that Paul had already decanted the 2005 for two hours! It was still closed. Hints of black fruits tapped at the surface, almost begging to come out but unable to climb past the glass walls that encased them. The palate, however, was very concentrated, almost jammy because it was so rich. Hints of coffee and tree flirted with my palate, and Paul admired ‘the volume.’ It was a great wine ”“ elegant and silky inside with a big body in which to house it all (96+).

Unfortunately, there was no time to dilly dally, as dinner back at Chateau Lafite was in less than thirty minutes. We would see Paul again there soon.

Every year, Bipin holds ‘Bipin’s Thanksgiving’ at Chateau Lafite in the month of December. This happened to be Bipin’s 25th Anniversary of said holiday feast. As the French would say, ‘incroyable!’ He always invites a great winemaker and some of their wines from another significant region, such as Egon Muller and Monsieur Perrin in previous years that I have attended. This year we would pay homage to the wines of Comte de Vogue, represented by Jean-Luc Pepin. The guest list was a who’s who of the Bordeaux world such as Anthony Barton, Herve Berland, Hubert de Bouard, Jean-Michel Cazes, Charles Chevallier, Jean-Bernard and Jean-Philippe Delmas, John Kolasa, Thierry Manoncourt, Paul Pontallier, Jean-Guillaume Prats and Christophe Salin amongst others. Before the night was over, we would sample at least twenty wines from a combination of the cellars of Vogue and the 1989 vintage in Bordeaux. Let the games begin.

Everyone arrived over some 1999 Jacques Selosses Vintage Champagne. The vintage Selosses is incredibly rare, as he made only approximately 2000 bottles of the 1999! I recently did a massive Selsosses tasting, so I will get more into him at a later date, but this ’99 was fantastic. Wolfgang was loving it, which is always a good sign for a domaine that it has done something right. He called it ‘super, a little toasty, but it stays in my mouth for minutes.’ It was long and clearly the best 1999 that I have had so far. It was quite big for a 100% Blanc de Blancs (all chardonnay grapes), very full and forward as well. Its gritty and grainy finish was well-defined, and its palate packed big and bready flavors. If only Selosses focused more on making vintage wines as opposed to solera, multi-vintage cuvees, he would already be on everyone’s top ten list in Champagne (95).

Jean-Luc gave us a brief introduction about Vogue, reminding us how it was still family owned, dating back to the 15th century. George Vogue had a daughter who died in 2002 and left it to her two daughters. 1993 was the last vintage of Musigny Blanc, as they replanted the vineyard with young vines and now call it Bourgogne Blanc. When the vines are old enough again, we will have Musigny Blanc again, although technically it is still Musigny Blanc now. I believe he also said that any fruit that comes from vines less than 25 years of age will not go into the standard Musigny Rouge. I also learned later on that the Domaine has no records of ever making two different Musignys. This was in regard to a question about the fact that sometimes there are older bottles of Vogue that just say Musigny as opposed to ‘Vieilles Vignes.’ Since Vogue worked with about a half-dozen different suppliers, to whom they sold barrels and provided labels, some requested that it just said Musigny. So, any Vogue Musigny should be the same as a Vogue Musigny ‘Vieilles Vignes.’ Interesting stuff.

We began with some Bourgogne, the 2004 Comte de Vogue Bourgogne Blanc, to be exact. It had a smoky nose and was typical 2004 with its clean fruit, touch of sweet citrus, hints of waterfall and dust. The palate was smooth, long and pretty, solid stuff. There was hidden acidity here, like a big backside masked in a flattering dress. There were great smoky flavors with twists of lime. John Kolasa noted ‘flint stone’ (93).

The 1999 Comte de Vogue Bourgogne Blanc unfortunately suffered from some premature oxidation. It wasn’t intolerable, but it was there. A hint of banana peel slipped its way through, as did sawdust, but the wine was forward and gamy. The palate was big but full of tutti-frutti flavors, a sure sign of premox. There was so much muscle to the palate, typical of 1999 which is a brawny vintage, but unfortunately, I could not form a complete picture of the wine. Thierry Manoncourt said something funny in French, but I can’t read my own writing now. Man, it’s early for that (92+A).

The 1992 Vogue Musigny Blanc was very forward in that 1992 style. Its nose possessed aromas of rainwater and dirty back alley, along with orange blossoms heading south for the winter. It reminded me of a wine that would be drunk in Sin City, as in the movie. The palate was round and with a hint of metal without being metallic. Its white fruit flavors were starting to turn. Drink up (89).

We marched on to the reds, beginning with a 1985 Vogue Musigny Vieilles Vignes out of magnum. Its nose was open and minty, full of damp earth and crushed mint leaves. Its fruit was definitely in the background, and there was a hint of beef. The palate, however, was full of red fruits, vitamins, stems and stalks, much more powerful than I expected, perhaps aided by the magnum format. There was nice, taut ripeness and a flash of game, along with nice definition on its finish. It got more wild in the glass, and for some reason I thought of ‘The Fly.’ This was tasty and excellent (94M).

The 1993 Vogue Musigny Vieilles Vignes elicited a ‘hello Dolly’ from me. There was a big frame here, encasing deep, subtle and inviting fruit. The wine was far from obvious, and its earth, vitamin shavings, dark chocolate and forest floor reminded me of why 1993 is such a great vintage. It will be one of the years Burgundy lovers will continue to seek out for decades. There was a lot going on in this wine. The palate was big yet sensual, long yet fine with a great mix of fruit and finish. It was flat out great, still young but approachable. Its skin has been shed, but this snake still has bite and plenty of venom left! It was big yet agile in a kick your ass kind of way. The acidity lingered for over a minute after it went down down down down down (96).

The 1999 Vogue Musigny Vieilles Vignes was much shier than the 1993, more masked in its personality. It showed more nut in the nose with pinches of stems and gas. It came across brawny after the swift and cut 1993. Kosala found it ‘elegant but not as complex.’ There was this hint of New World, like Pinot in a beefy, California way. The palate had traces of fig, beef and game, but this was not exactly the home run I was looking for, given the home run that this vintage is in Burgundy. More acidity came out with some food, but I was disappointed, I must admit (93).

The 2006 Vogue Musigny Vieilles Vignes was pure and transparent; what you smelled is what you got. Aromas of red cherry, vitamins and stems were bright yet thick. The palate was a lot richer than the nose, also thick. It felt big despite still possessing some baby fat. The ’06 took it step by step, as if it knew it could roar, but decided against it until it was really ready to let it rip. I am a fan of this vintage, and I look forward to trying this wine many times over the course of its evolution (95).

Jean-Michel Cazes admired them, saying they were ‘all quite good yet all different.’ Someone asked Jean-Luc whether 2006 was similar to 1985, and he replied that there is ‘better acidity in ’06.’ He also called Musigny ‘aloof’ in its personality. The Moose can be loose, and now it can be aloof, too :).

It was on to Bordeaux and a 1989 retrospective orchestrated by the maestro known as Bipin. And why not? It was twenty years after the fact, and a perfect time to check in on this highly regarded yet controversial vintage. We would soon see why.

We started with a trio of St. Emilions, beginning with the 1989 Canon, served out of magnum. Its nose possessed nice aromas of olive, black fruits, fig confiture and a hint of winter. It was classic, smooth and tasty with flavors of black fruits, olive, wheat and leather (93M).

The 1989 Figeac was similar, with more olive and green goodness. Olive, more olives and even olive oil danced like Zorba around its nose. It was very bright and forward. The palate had lots of olives as well, but more black in flavor. Long and stylish, the palate was sexier than I thought it would be. The wine wasn’t one of the greatest Figeacs ever, but it was just delicious, a wine that didn’t have to be over-analyzed because it was just damn good to drink. Why is the oldest and most experienced man in St. Emilion, who is still going strong at age 94-ish, still its best-kept secret (94)?

The 1989 L’Angelus was deeper, nuttier and thicker than the first two wines, possessing aromas of peanut and black cherry. Its flavors were much blacker as well, invoking feelings of tar, asphalt, chocolate and black fruits. It tasted like it was on steroids compared to the first two wines. It was big, beefy and long, but not really my style, especially after the first two classics (92).

We crossed over to the Left Bank and begun with the 1989 Leoville Barton. Its nose was yeasty with traces of oatmeal. It had a lot of black fruits, with pinches of chocolate and windex. As most Leoville Bartons are, the 1989 had significant power on the palate, expressing big-time alcohol and acidity. Leave it to Bordeaux’s British ambassador to add the most oomph (93+).

Waterfall came first in the nose of the 1989 Lynch Bages, which is not that common in Bordeaux. There was a bit of stable in the nose, but not really quite that. There was some espresso, but not really quite that, either. Cola, that was there really, as was peanut J. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks ”“ sautéed string beans yum! The palate was big and rich, quite enormous and even more impressive in its power than the Leoville Barton. There was enough alcohol here for a high school prom. The ’89 was still quite young. It was big, black and dark. Did someone say something about”¦.never mind (95).

I liked the 1989 Cos d’Estournel, which was classic all the way around. There was nice balance between its t ‘n a in the nose, with aromas of peanut, cassis and black fruits. The palate was rich and long, possessing nice spice and a big character (94).

I have always preferred the 1989 Montrose to the 1990, and this bottle reminded me why. Its nose was yeasty and earthy, quite sexy in a black and blue way. Kosala found it the ‘tightest’ of the Left Bankers so far, and someone else found it ‘the most masculine.’ It was clearly special, with flavors of oil, ink and hints of animal just starting to show some skin (95).

We segued to the First Growths with a 1989 Cheval Blanc, a First Growth in its own right. The Cheval was very aromatic with its olive, black and red fruits, and oak trees covered in snow. I was under-impressed the first time I had this wine many years ago, but every time I have had it since, it keeps getting better (93+).

The 1989 Margaux had a tender nose with hints of semi-sweet fruit, both black and purple. The palate was a bit watery for lack of a better word, and its flavors were pleasant but not great (92).

The 1989 Lafite Rothschild was classic with its cedar and cassis combination, and hints of oatmeal and sugar rounded out its nose. Again, that water showed up on the palate, although the Lafite did come across a touch fuller and more balanced than the Margaux. Its acidity was still long (93).

The 1989 Mouton Rothschild had more charcoal in its smoky nose, and its palate was similar with cedar flavors as well. It was similar to the Lafite in style and personality except for the charcoal (93).

And then came the 1989 Haut Brion. The 1989 Haut Brion proceeded to just blow everything away. This was like UConn coming to town to play a game of women’s basketball against any of your female population. Dick Vitale would of course cover the game and find it ‘Awesome baby!!!!’ It again proved why it is one of the greatest wines of all-time. Its length, depth, breadth and soul are pillars of strength that will always support the argument that Bordeaux produces the best wines in the world. Easy Burghounds, I said argument! What a wine. I did find this bottle just a hair drier than usual, but it was still extraordinary juice, just a step behind the usual 99 point experience, you’ll have to forgive it (98).

How could all the Super Seconds outshine the Firsts? Haut Brion is clearly an exception to the 1989 rule, as it was a vintage where the wine gods shined brightly on Graves and Pomerol. Everyone else had a tougher time, however. It was a very hot vintage, and obviously some had difficulty managing that heat. 1990 was a much more classic vintage by Mother Nature’s standards. 1989 will always be a vintage known for two of the greatest Bordeaux ever made, Haut Brion and Petrus, but it did not produce quality across the board like a true great vintage should, and the First Growths, outside of Haut Brion, universally underperformed, even Latour (you can ask Bipin why there was no Latour served). This is why 1989 will always be controversial. We still saw that quality could be produced in the Northern part of the Left Bank, but 1989 will never receive the accolades of other great vintages due to the overall quality of the First Growths relative to other years. How did this happen? I didn’t dig deeper, sorry, it was late and approaching 5am, NY time, where I started my day the night before. What surprised me the most was how the Super Seconds were cumulatively better than the Firsts, taking Haut Brion out of the picture. 1989 must have been a blue moon vintage, or something of the sorts, as you don’t see that too often.

The next day saw us at Haut Brion, where we tasted a horizontal of 2007s before lunch. They were not ready to show their 2008s at this time. I think they were recently bottled, or something technical of the sorts. The 2007 La Chapelle de la Mission had a nice, chocolaty style with a gravelly edge. The nose was chunky and possessed some depth. The palate was round and lush with nice dryness, cassis and charcoal flavors. Pleasant and easy, this second wine also had nice acidity (90).

2007 was the first vintage for Haut Brion’s new second wine. The 2007 Le Clarence de Haut Brion effectively replaces the Bahans Haut Brion. It had a similar nose to the La Chapelle but was a bit more elegant and regal, still a bit chocolaty but less so. The palate was brighter and more vimful, possessing sawdust and cedar flavors and hints of citrus (91).

The 2007 La Mission Haut Brion was like the La Chapelle, but more grainy in its nose. There were aromas of fresh field and stalk, coffee and lots more reserve and breed. The palate was very tight, not giving a lot, very dry and citrusy. The La Chapelle was more enjoyable at this stage, but the La Mission is clearly the better wine (92+).

They only made 8800 cases of the 2007 Haut Brion, compared to 13,000 cases in 2004. (La Mission made 4500 versus 7500 fyi). The Haut Brion had a great nose, all about the earth, and so regal at the same time. There were hints of roasted nuts, some honey and a twist of lime. The fruit was richer than the La Miss. Someone said, ‘2007 equals charm and pleasure, while 2008 is tighter and tougher in style.’ There were hints of animal to its nice, rich fruit. Its excellent finish had great balance between its tannins, alcohol and acidity. Its acidity kept extending (94).

The 2007 Laville Haut Brion was very gamy in its pungent nose with aromas of straw, hay, chicken coop and glue. The palate was lemony and melony, a bit tangy with lots of vitamin flavors on its finish. There is much more Semillon (80%) in the Laville than the Haut Brion Blanc that followed (92).

The 2007 Haut Brion Blanc is usually a 50/50 blend of Semillon and Sauvignon Blanc, although there was 55% Sauvignon Blanc in 2007. Only 600 cases were made. The nose was distinct Haut Brion Blanc; there was this great core of pungent minerality and sweet honey, along with glue, limestone and a tropical kink. The palate was outstanding with great flavors of slightly sweet honeydew and guava. Bipin found it ‘amazing’ and Wolf ‘racy.’ It was lush yet taut, long, regal and stylish”¦flat out great (95).

Lunch was served, and we continued on with another couple of whites, this time with a little more age. The 2005 Laville Haut Brion was more taut than the ’07 despite being a couple years older. Classic aromas of minerals and glue oversaw its big, alcoholic palate. There were flavors of glue, straw and honeycomb. The ’95 was stony, full, long and impressive, balanced and deft despite an oversized personality (94).

A 2001 Haut Brion Blanc was a bit oxidized. It was very open and gamy, really forward and seemingly off. I couldn’t quite tell if this was just the style of the wine in 2001, or an affected bottle. Even bottles direct from the Chateau can have problems, I suppose (90?).

The 2001 La Mission Haut Brion was rich and hearty with a long finish full of acid. The fruit was a touch gamy as well with a hint of marzipan, maybe it was a 2001 thing after all. Creamy flavors of dates and chocolate were present in this saucy wine (91+).

My last wine on this trip to Bordeaux was a 1986 Haut Brion. Even though it was a new day, and this was only wine number ten of said day, I couldn’t read half my note, how fitting. The ’86 had a deep nose, coming on slowly and surely. It was big and zippy with flavors of grape, carob and light slate. I was surprised how lush and open this wine was on the palate, as ’86 is a tannic year. This ’86 was delicious and flavorful, showing quite well at the moment (93).

24 hours, 44 wines and no casualties. Mission accomplished.

Big Boy has a lot of monopolies. One of them is great wine events in the month of December. Tradition always has me chez Rosania on New Year’s Eve, and previous articles of his incredible events to ring in the New Year have already been published for the last few years. After 2009, someone needs to call the FTC, because this past New Year’s Eve, it officially got out of hand, in the greatest sense possible.

I arrived a bit late and missed a handful of things, like 1989 Krug, 1989 Krug Clos du Mesnil and 1979 Pommery. Oh, well. Other commitments had me on the tardy side, but I was able to get in the swing of things rather quickly. By the time I arrived, Slover, who was to be helping everyone keep up with the onslaught of wines all night, was already a couple blocks away in Lenox Hill Hospital from a sabering accident. It just goes to show all you kids out there that sabering is not something that should be done unless under proper adult supervision. Four stitches later, however, Slover had admirably recovered and was back at wine control, albeit a little limp-wristed for the rest of the evening.

Every wine was served out of at least magnum, with a few Jeros making their way into the lineup later in the evening. The theme of the evening was vintages ending in the year ‘9,’ which is probably the luckiest number when it comes to vintages of the last 100 years.

The first wine on which I laid my lips was a 1979 Krug Collection. It was the same as it ever was, still very young and at least a decade away from being approachable if you ask me. Its finish requires rocket fuel, as it has that much power and acidity. Hints of milk and wood were a bit out of sync from other recent experiences. Gentleman Jim noted, ‘light in its flavors like an Angel Food Cake.’ Indeed, the 1979 Krug Collection is all about the backside at the moment, but there is enough there to merit an outstanding rating, although this particular magnum didn’t make me want to add a ‘plus’ sign as usual (95M).

A 1979 Pol Roger Cuvee Sir Winston Churchill was a bit disappointing. Nothing was wrong with the bottle, but it seemed to lack that boom boom pow. As Big Boy observed, ‘it was a little light and didn’t pop.’ The nose was stone city. The palate was long, gritty and grainy with white fruits and wheat, but I expected more from this normally outstanding cuvee (92M).

The ‘regular’ 1979 Krug was fantastic. The nose was big, bready and toasty with hints of egg, varnish and mahogany. It was deep, open, rich and expressive with lots of meaty, gamy fruit. The palate also had great fruit and finish; its flavors were open and hinting at key lime, while its length was still impressive, indicating that the words ‘Collection’ and ‘Clos du Mesnil’ are not necessary for a Krug to be ageworthy (96M).

It was time for some red wines, and Big Boy was in a Pomerol state of mind. We warmed up with the 1989 Petrus. Man, I love this wine. 1989 is clearly the greatest modern-day Petrus, the one against which all others should be measured. We’ll see how vintages like 1998, 2000 and 2005 develop, but they will all have to answer to this vintage. The ’89 was unreal as always, even more of a behemoth out of magnum, infantile in its initial expression, and all the more brooding. There was still fruit showing, and its acidity was hidden at first but slowly uncoiled to reveal regality. Big Boy observed its ‘vahlrona chocolate.’ This wine was quite hedonistic, packed and stacked with chocolate, plums and earth, adding up to near-perfection again (99M).

The Petrus was paired with a 1989 Lafleur out of double-magnum. Dapper Dave noted, ‘leaner but more open, great.’ He preferred the nose of the Lafleur and the palate of the Petrus. The Lafleur was definitely more fragrant, with hints of olive to go with classic Pomerol fruit. I was surprised by the Lafleur’s approachability, especially since it was out of double magnum, and even more so since this wine has blown me away with its power on more than one occasion out of standard bottle. There was long acidity and chalky flavors here, and the crowd observed ‘porcini’ and ‘Nebbiolo cherry.’ It was still outstanding, but this wine should be in that 97-99 point category, and this double magnum wasn’t (95D).

A pair of 1949 magnums were next, also from the Holy Land known as Pomerol. When it comes to magnums of 1940s Pomerols, you either believe or you don’t, so all non-believers can feel free to skip the next two paragraphs. Anyone who was treated to a glass of either wine, however, would find it difficult to say anything negative or defamatory about either of these two nectars.

The first was a 1949 Clos L’Eglise Clinet, which had what I would call a ‘typical’ Nicolas Pomerol profile. Both magnums were Nicolas bottles, by the way. Plum, olive and lots of chocolate were in the nose; its core was sweet and musky. The palate was quite similar, very satiny and smooth, polished and chocolaty, easy and delicious (94M).

The 1949 Latour a Pomerol was another beauty, although I wanted to see what others had to say first, so I put Slover on the spot. ‘Smells great,’ was his first reaction, ‘lots of olive. The color seems youthful, but the palate is so relaxed it could be that old, amazing.’ Every sip I took, this wine became more impressive, and not because it gained power in the glass. Like a wine of this age should, it unfolded different layers as opposed to gaining steam. The classic Pomerol was there, particularly the olive and plum, with more cassis and less chocolate than the L’Eglise. It was sheer deliciousness, even more so than the L’Eglise Clinet because its fruit was purer. The L a P was decadent but light on its feet. Gorgeous and pretty were two words that came to mind in describing this ancient wonder. That hint of fresh garden unfolded, and the Latour a Pomerol left the L’Eglise behind. Hints of slate also unfolded, as did ‘Mexican coffee’ per someone. Arriba arriba (96M).

A perfect magnum of 1979 Louis Roederer Cristal snuck in right before Midnight. Aromas of sweet golden corn and yellow straw combined with ‘creamsicle’ ones, per Dapper Dave. It was elegant yet powerful, absolutely sizzling on the palate with its racy acidity and expressive bubbles. Creamy and somehow integrated despite all that fizz, the 1979 was another example of why Cristal is not just a name (96+M).

Midnight struck, and Big Boy gave one of his notorious speeches. There were many warm and fuzzy things said, one of which wasn’t ‘I can’t wait to get rid of this f’ing decade’ lol. Out came a Rehoboam of 1959 Moet. I think that is somewhere between Jero and Methusaleh, just don’t miss that right turn in Reims. I am pretty sure this was the first one of these opened in 2010, and possibly the last one that ever will be. The nose was clean with light citrus and apple with pinches of musk, anise and truffle. The palate was a bit tangy for me, its bubbles just hanging on despite the fact that there was no oxidation here. Its wine-like personality was very oily, but its flavors just didn’t do it for me. I like to stick to the pre-Dom Perignon Moets, personally (88R).

There were a couple more bubblies before we went to Burgundy. A 1979 Taittinger Comtes de Champagne Rose was race car city at first, fresh and zippy both in the nose and palate of this perfectly stored magnum. ‘Zippedy doo dah’ summed it up. There were nice, secondary strawberry aromas, but the palate was tight and almost a bit mean, super dry and rocket-like in its finish. Olof thundered in from the North, took off his horns and aptly came up with ‘a little white asparagus, platinum and copper.’ He then proceeded to impale someone who disagreed with him. Someone else appreciated its ‘good stank.’ Kayne West would have described it as ‘bright funky earthy fresh,’ as I wrote, and Big Boy lobbied for 96 points, but I told him it just wasn’t showing enough yet for that (95+M).

A jeroboam of 1949 Pommery was coffee city. It was mature and rich with luscious, earthy and dirty white chocolate flavors. These old Pommerys can be all-star material, but even bottles that aren’t at their best are still always good everyday players. This jero was a touch mature but still creamy and lush, arguably slightly affected but still excellent (93J).

It was time for some Burgundy, and Big Boy delivered a 1-2 knockout punch that would have settled this whole Mayweather-Pacquiao BS by leaving them both lying on the canvas, wondering what hit them. A magnum of 1969 Rousseau Chambertin, the one and only in Rob’s collection, was incredible. Wendy was going crazy over it; this was as excited as I have ever seen her over a given wine, and as the honorary ‘Angry Woman,’ she has seen a lot of greatness for sure. Rousseau undoubtedly made the wines of the vintage in 1969; what he did in this year is nothing short of spectacular given how most other wines from the vintage are showing. Words like ‘unreal, great, rich and spectacular’ graced my notes. The fruit and finish were both extraordinary. Citrus and rose blended together with tomato and rust to form an exemplary combination that left my palate watering for more. It remains a benchmark wine not only for 1969, but also for Burgundy (97M).

The wine that followed took it up another notch. The jero of 1959 La Tache quickly laid claim to wine of 2010 with its incredible nose. It was and LT all the way, one of the best examples of this wine that I have ever had. I have rated it as high as 99 points, but that was over five years ago and I have not had it hit the heights ever since until now. Smoke, mesquite, rose, rust, tomato, citrus, iron, cola, vine and more rust were all balanced by great acidity. This wine was so intense it made Big Boy look passive. Secondary aromas and flavors of bouillon joined the party, as did ‘perfect violet’ per Wendy. One couldn’t deny the style or greatness of here; kudos once again to the greatest producer of wine in the world (98+J).

A half-dozen Champagnes slowly rounded out the evening, which was ultimately to end at 4am. We came down back to earth with a magnum of 1970 Veuve Clicquot Rose. Its nose was yeasty and full of vitamins, mature and warm. I noted flavors of orange blossom and tangerine, while Cliff found ‘orange Sunkist wedges.’ Wendy called it ‘a bit tropical, watermelon and persimmon”¦confectionary’ (93M).

The 1949 Louis Roederer was quickly crowned ‘Champagne of the night’ by the King of Champagne. Anyone who disagreed would quickly be banished from the kingdom, so good thing he was right. Rizzo observed ‘butter toffee,’ and it was housed in vanilla city. Hints of root beer, coconut liqueur and ‘salt water taffy’ per Cliff rounded out its exotic nose. Its flavors were all about the butter ”“ that butter toffee, butter rum and even butterscotch got into the game, all dry and all great (97M).

The crown of Champagne of the night didn’t last long, as I liked the magnum of 1959 Pol Roger even a touch more. Its nose was crystal clear with divine yellow fruits. Its palate was fantastic; it was big and smooth, force without mass. It was deliciously buttery without any of the sweet butter qualities and kinkiness of the ’49 Roederer. It was classic in the ‘Fall’ sense of the word, Yankees style (97+M).

A 1959 Veuve Clicquot was outstanding. It tasted (and looked) more recently disgorged than not. It was strong, long and full of song. Well, that’s what I wrote. It was getting to that point in the evening where I was about to be full of something else 🙂 (95M).

The 1969 Taittinger Comtes de Champagne was exotically good, as usual for old C de C’s. Butterscotch and lemon/lime were present in this fresh and well-stored magnum. I can’t exactly read what I wrote, it looks something like ‘anal’ and ‘great,’ but since my memory is fuzzy around this point, let’s hope it wasn’t exactly that lol (95+M).

The 1929 Louis Roederer was ‘unreal great.’ I wish I could tell you more about it, but the pen had officially fallen off the page. I do remember that it was a continuance in style of the 1949, though less exotic and more mellow, definitely close to divine (96M).

Oh, what a night, and thanks again to the most generous host in the world today. Here’s to 2010 being another year filled with great friends and great bottles

I interrupt my natural progression through some of this Fall’s more noteworthy wine evenings in order to bring you notes from a night last week that was so extraordinary, it immediately went to the top of my pile, easily one of the ‘nights of the year,’ so to speak. And there were only three of us.

I have often joked in years past about the two Jef(f)s in Los Angeles who share a last name (despite different spellings), the ‘good’ Jef being one of my close friends. Well, the, um, let’s call him ‘other’ Jeff, was in town on his way back from two weeks in Bordeaux and reached out to get together with myself and another special guest a couple months ago, and the evening was finally upon us. This other Jeff was fresh off an evening in Baltimore with Mr. Parker himself, drinking 1961 La Chapelle from Bob’s cellar amongst other goodies. It is, in fact, on Mr. Parker’s website where you will often find the other Jeff posting away on a daily basis, to which his thousands of posts will attest. When you talk that much on web bulletin boards, you are bound to find some people disagreeing with you, but after this evening, I can safely say that both Jef(f)s in LA are now ‘good’ in my book.

We were joined by one of New York’s empirical collectors, one who used to have an Airplane in his nickname, but after this night, he will only be known as ‘The Punisher,’ because he just punished us with incredibly rare wine after another until we couldn’t drink no more. And there were still another eight or ten bottles in tow if necessary!

Acrobatic/exotic/unique chef Wylie Dufresene’s 12-course tasting menu (at WD-50) also filled us to the gills, but was absolutely critical in soaking up the awesome arsenal of insane wines to which we would be privy on this special night.

I was sitting at the bar for about twenty minutes, not knowing that Jeff and The Punisher were waiting patiently in a booth in the back. I finally called The Punisher, perplexed as to how both of them could be so late ”“ was my calendar wrong? This was the right restaurant, no? I was not wrong in either regard. Bad hostess, bad bad bad bad girl! Thankfully, I hadn’t missed much. Jeff and The Punisher were casually sipping on a 1900 Pichon Baron and had not gotten any further. In advance, Jeff offered up a 1989 Rayas, and I a 1993 Mugnier Musigny, although I changed up to a 1978 Ponsot Clos de la Roche at the last second due to circumstance”¦and still had the Mugnier, of course, just in case. The Punisher had assured us in advance that he ‘should be able to find something,’ and knowing his cellar already, that was good enough for us.

Ok, time for some notes. The 1900 Pichon Baron had a deep nose, still with a wealth of fruit despite a healthy whiff of oak at first. Aromas of peanut and walnut were also there, and with some extended aeration and swirling action, the oak settled down into more of a benevolent cedar, along with some creepy caramel and sawdust. The palate was rich and luscious. The Punisher remarked how he liked the ‘nose more than the mouth,’ and Jeff agreed, finding it ‘a hair short and a bit taut,’ but make no doubt about it, this bottle was in fabulous condition, still fresh for age 109 despite no signs of reconditioning. It was a natural fresh; it doesn’t get any better than that for old wine. There was a little bit of locker room funk that emerged, but this ancient rarity was still a tasty treat and an impressive bottle (92).

We jumped into my 1978 Ponsot Clos de la Roche. It was actually graciously given to me to taste from a case by a potential seller, as some of the color was off in a few but not all of the bottles, per his ethical acknowledgement. The nose was at first minty, beefy and chocolaty, also ‘foresty’ per The Punisher. Hints of tea rounded out its nose. The palate was rich and round, tender yet long, and tasty in a sweet, brothy, bouillon way with a hint of citrus. Autumnal flavors of forest and damp earth were present, along with game, browned fruit, beef and chocolate. There was still nice tannin definition to its cedary finish, and the wine possessed a little bit of that good dirty. The Punisher grimaced. ‘It is moving in a stewed direction.’ The wine was a bit exotic and unfortunately a bit affected, still good but not a perfect bottle (94A).

Jeff’s 1989 Rayas Chateauneuf du Pape followed, and it needed to be woken up a bit. A first there was a lot of sweet cherry, but in a cough syrupy way, with enough menthol in its nose to clear any sinus on any occasion. The palate was rich, hearty, decadent and delicious. Jeff questioned ‘a touch of volatile acidity?’ The Punisher noted, ‘Riesling diesel.’ The wine had amazing power and acidity, not to mention its sweet concentration. Its cherry flavors were superb, and garrigue and white pepper balanced it out perfectly. One could pick at it and call it ‘too sweet,’ but it was pretty delicious to me, and a wine that will age a long time (95+).

It was at this point where The Punisher took over. He told us how he recently bought this old cellar where the Pichon Baron came from and had brought a few others from it to try to make sure the cellar was good. Enter 1918 Ducru Beaucaillou. The Punisher was having a case of ‘deja-vu,’ as he felt ‘like I just drank this wine.’ The Ducru was lighter than the Pichon Baron, also possessing more sour cherry in the nose. The palate was a bit yeasty at first, with some morning mouth flavors on its finish and fruit that I would call on the tired side, despite the condition of the bottle being fine and fresh per my note on the Baron. Flavors of citrus, wheat, sour cherry and dust were here, and the wine grew on me, as I was again impressed by the condition of the wine, even if it was, perhaps, past its prime. Jeff picked up on secondary ‘butterscotch’ aromas, which I saw in a dry way. There were cobwebs on its tangy finish (90).

The Punisher pulled out a 1925 Mouton Rothschild next as if it was another weapon to help him carry out wine justice. Jeff immediately noted, ‘pretty Asian spice,’ and The Punisher ‘strawberry.’ Jeff countered with ‘tobacco and truffles.’ The Punisher then finished the rally with ‘a touch of salty vinegar and metal on the end.’ I saw all that and then some. The nose was like cobwebs meeting biscuits, and it was divinely sweet in a restrained and refined way. I was really digging the nose on this ’25, which I believe is the first Bordeaux I have ever even had from this rarely seen vintage. Its front and mid-palates were great, although the finish did have some of that awkward metal. Light Asian tea flavors and ‘rhubarb’ per Jeff were upfront in the mouth, and while the wine was soft and bright, its citrus flavors were a touch too tart (?), I questioned, and Jeff chimed in on that ‘hint of metal.’ With a little more air, its citrus flavors became great, and the palate leaned on the sexy side in a ballerina way with light brothy qualities. Light beef and previous citrus flavors gave way to old cherry vanilla ones in the end, and overall, this was an excellent Mouton, perhaps never to be experienced again (93).

‘Let’s try some ’01 Lafite,’ The Punisher pronounced. Jeff had to stop himself. He was wondering, why are we going to try something so young now, until he realized it was the 1901 Lafite Rothschild. Like, duh :). The nose said ‘wow,’ roaring to reveal this decadent, toasted caramel like Smores without the chocolate, made with caramel instead, and a hand-made Guy Savoy caramel at that. Jeff kicked in ‘gingerbread,’ and that he ‘would have guessed Right Bank’ if the wine had been served blind. This, too, had a light, deft edge that the previous wines from this cellar showed and again was fresh and lively. The palate had nice citrus hints and ‘light brown sugar’ flavors. This wine was absolutely delicious, and I loved it, giving it three yums. Even at the end of the night, it was still delicious, still classy and incredibly distinguished. Move over, 1900 (96+).

The Punisher was just warming up. I swear I heard the click of a shotgun, and out came a 1904 Lafite Rothschild. The sibling rivalry was on. There was more citrus in the ’04, and more floral qualities to its sweetness, but we could all see it was a sibling to the ’01. The 1904 was much lighter in the mouth, however, and no ’01 for sure. It had wafer and water flavors along with sour cherry, dust and cobwebs in an old cupboard. It was still pleasant but its palate didn’t live up to its nose; it was a big drop off (88).

The vertical continued with a 1905 Lafite Rothschild, which had a deeper and darker nose than the previous two and was the first of the Lafites to show black fruits in its nose. There was also this hint of windshield wiper, but not in a negative way. Again the palate was on the lighter side. These weren’t hallmark vintages, of course, so that should not be a surprise for hundred year-old wines from years that are not from those ‘vintages of the century.’ The palate was also round, possessing waterfall flavors and again those dusty cobwebs, this time wrapped around old books (90).

There was one more Lafite to this impromptu flight, a 1907 Lafite Rothschild. I asked the sommelier for his thoughts, to which he replied that it had ‘the most grip and is a lot bloodier in its flavors.’ The Punisher playfully asked me if I was trying to get the sommelier to write my notes for me lol. The 1907 was the most classic in my book, possessing rich cassis and cedar in its nose. There were flavors of band-aids and strawberry soup on the palate, which was again lighter but more substantial than the 1905. It developed nice baked aromas as well (92).

It was Mouton’s turn again, beginning with the 1929 Mouton Rothschild, whose nose was intriguing and exciting. It was deep, long and smoky and clearly great claret. It had hickory, cassis and cedar aromas, all working well together. The palate was another wine that could best be described as delicious. Rich and sweet, it had both great fruit and great finish, with coffee flavors on its long backside. It was saucy with black cherry flavors and a hint of grill. The only negative was that it got a touch figgy in the glass after some time, pulling it down from outstanding back into the excellent zone, even though that initial impression was without a doubt outstanding (94).

The 1928 Mouton Rothschild made for an interesting comparison. I have always liked both these vintages for Mouton despite a lack of critical acclaim, and this evening reinforced my internal beliefs. Jeff resurfaced to find the ’28 ‘minty,’ although The Punisher was a bit concerned with some ‘cardboard’ at first. I saw what he was saying, but likened it more to an un-fresh bathroom edge, with hints of chlorine, although black fruits kept trying to fight their way through. Thankfully, the ’28 tasted far better than it smelled. The ’28 was rich and chocolaty, beefy and saucy. There were lots of Vitamin C flavors surrounding its dusty and zippy, rich fruit. The Punisher noted ‘mushroomy’ qualities and found ‘the nose better on ’29, but the mouth better on ’28.’ The Punisher also found that the ’29 softened in the glass, as well, and I agreed that while the two were close in quality now, as time continues, the 1928 will distance itself more as the better wine. Only in Bordeaux can a wine at age eighty still have time to outdistance another similar vintage! Jeff was in the ’29 camp, however, rating it one point higher ‘for elegance.’ The ’28 got better and better, and its nose became integrated and less awkward (96).

I don’t think I could have eaten another crumb or drank another drop. It was at this point that I had to say, ‘I think that cellar’s good.’ What a cellar, and what a night. Somehow, I think that if we didn’t throw in the towel, we could have stayed until every bottle in The Punisher’s wine bag was done.

I bowed down before the wine superhero before me, meagerly offering up my unopened 1993 Mugnier as a token of my gratitude. It quickly got sucked into his arsenal with the ease of a gun being put back into the holster of a marksman. As I stumbled out of WD-50 into the cold, rainy New York night, all I could hear was the crowd cheering, ‘Ed-die, Ed-die, Ed-die”¦.’

On my last trip to Hong Kong, I was fortunate to sit down to a late dinner where only Krug was served, centered around a trio of 1996s, including the recently released Clos d’Ambonnay. New CEO Maggie Henriquez was in town, and we celebrated the then upcoming lots sourced directly from Krug’s cellars with some Krug, of course.

The 1996 Krug Clos du Mesnil was intense and deep like an abyss in its nose. Minerals, rocks, light citrus, wet earth and wheat aromas were present. There was still elegance in what could be called its sadistic nose, its power whipping my senses over and over again. The palate was lightning in a bottle; there was enough acidity for University chemistry courses. Someone remarked, ‘1996 is a 10/10 vintage for its acidity and alcohol.’ It would be tough to argue that this is not the Champagne of the vintage (98+).

The 1996 Krug Clos d’Ambonnay was more perfumed and sexier than the Clos du Mesnil. It was softer and more tender in its aromas, exuding hints of lime and ‘lemon soap.’ It was still quite deep and expansive. On the palate, it was elegant, and tender came to mind again. Its smooth and satiny style charmed me while its vim and spice picked my pocket. While classy and stylish, it was still powerful and possessed tremendous acidity. Decadent flavors of bread soaked in oil emerged. Tasting side by side with the 1996 Mesnil, they struck me as the perfect husband and wife, with the d’Ambonnay being all woman, and I say that with only the best connotations in mind (97).

The little ol’ ‘regular’ 1996 Krug wasn’t too shabby, either. It was clean, fresh and classic, quite zippy itself and noticeably special, even after the two monarchs that preceded. The palate was long, spicy, edgy and longgg. It will be fascinating to have these three together for the decades to come (96).

It was a youngie but a goodie night, as any night when Krug is served is. There is Champagne, and there is Krug”¦