There’s something about July and birthdays that works for me. A close friend and loyal Acker client recently turned 50, and he celebrated in the finest of fashions with two dinners this month, the first of which celebrated his birth year, 1959. He has occasionally made his way into some previous vintage tasting notes, but due to a personal request, let’s just call him ‘Mr. Happy.’ It is most certain that everyone in attendance for this extraordinary evening was giddy by the time the night was over, and the food at Per Se didn’t make anyone grumpy, either.

The evening started with a bang and the only Rhone for the night. The 1959 Chateau de Beaucastel Chateauneuf du Pape had an explosive and amazing nose; this was clearly an incredible bottle, love at first sniff. Actually, it was Domaine de Beaucastel at the time. I guess they got some new digs soon thereafter! Anyone that thinks Chateauneuf cannot compete with the greatest wines of the world need to start with old Beaucastel. Jules gave it a ‘hubba hubba,’ while Amy added ‘smoked bacon.’ Deep garrigue was accompanied by green olive, smoked meats (indeed), menthol and juicy red fruit aromas in this spicy nose. Jean Luc admired the ‘mint,’ while Sarah admired its balance. The palate was rich, saucy, hearty and earthy, and its acidity was still young; this wine was still ascending at age 50, much like Mr. Happy. Flavors of chocolate, great earth and hints of rust and tobasco on the finish made this wine even more special. Jules summed it up, ‘it’s like really good Wagyu; it just melts in your mouth’ (97).

We quickly moved to Burgundy and a 1959 Mommesin Clos de Tart. Mr. Happy quickly gave it an ‘oh my God and wow.’ It was classic ’59 with that sweet hint of over the top ripeness. The wine was bursting with red fruits, ‘iron ore’ per Jean Luc, and the Happy one concurred with ‘minerality.’ Hints of orange peel and yeast proceeded in this complex nose, along with whiffs of good wood, beef satay and hot cereal with the brown sugar. Its flavors were sweet and tender, silky with hints of metallic goodness, like a shield from bad wine. Mr. Happy found it rhymingly ‘sappy,’ and it was smooth but still a bit hot (94).

The Tart was paired with a 1959 Noellat Romanee St. Vivant, which was about as good as an old Noellat as I have had. It was also sexy with that sweet ’59 style, syrupy and sugary with hints of orange again, but more citrus overall. It was tasty with a bittersweet finish, again with hints of tobasco. The Noellat was hearty with a twisted spice, like brown leather syrup. While the Clos de Tart danced more, the Noellat could knock you out. Jean Luc found it ‘more put together,’ but its ‘dustiness’ bothered Sarah a bit (93).

Some foie gras was served, along with the classic pairing of Sauternes and a 1959 Rayne Vigneau. Despite the magic of the matching, I still find having a sweet wine in the middle of many dry ones a bit intrusive. Nonetheless, I serviced with a smile. The Rayne had a nice nose with aromas of coconut, candle wax and almost a bit of beef. The palate had ‘serious dried fruit’ per our host, peach to be precise. It was rich and sweet with a tender, soft finish. The foie gras brought out its mid-palate and finish more (93).

The next flight was one of Musigny, with a bonus round. The 1959 Moillard-Grivot Musigny had lots of brown sugar in its nose in that chapitalized way. It was very Asian in its profile, and also had some hot, salty pretzel in there. The nose was hearty, spicy and woodsy, but the palate was light, a touch metallic, although it leveled out in a leathery direction. Sarah concurred that the ‘aromatics are on steroids,’ but the palate, although beefy, had tutti frutti fruit and a square finish, although some emerging chocolate flavors didn’t hurt (92).

The 1959 Vogue Musigny Vieilles Vignes was a superb bottle. It had sweet, delicate cherry vanilla aromas with much purer and high-toned fruit. There was lots of citrus here in this very bright and ‘framed’ (Jean Luc) wine. There was also a decadent, floral, lavender soap quality without the soapiness. The Moillard-Grivot versus the Vogue was like bowling versus baseball; ‘no, you mean versus soccer,’ Jean Luc insisted with a smile. Someone admired its ‘precision,’ and Sarah its ‘raisiny’ qualities. This was definitely a raisin in the sun. The palate was round with nice spice, smack and pinch. It had great red citrus components that went on and on; this wine kept on giving all through the night (96).

A 1959 La Tache was a most welcome way to say goodbye to Burgundy. This bottle was a bit affected, but still outstanding. It was quite meaty, almost like meat liqueur, beefy yet tropical as well. There was a touch of cork, and a hint of maderization as well, but it was a fine line between that and gamy. The palate was rich and hearty, brawny and soupy. It had the most muscle of any Burgundy so far, and the most serious acidity of the night as well; in these regards, it was no contest. The inherent greatness of this wine was evident despite it being gamier than usual and despite it having some cork issues (95+A).

It was time for Bordeaux, and we started with some Pomerols, namely a 1959 La Conseillante, which had a fresh, young nose filled with purple fruit galore. Vanilla, musk and hints of coconut unveiled in its sexy nose. There was also gauze there but no need for medical attention. Despite the cavernous nature of the nose, the palate was leaner, possessing more chalk and citrus although still nice purple fruit. Someone admired its ‘floral and rose petal’ qualities (91).

There was one magnum on this starry night, a magnum of 1959 Gazin. Its nose was rich with a deeper and sexier Pomerol kink. Royal garden, chocolate, cassis, plum and ceramics rounded out the nose. I preferred its smooth and satiny style to the Conseillante, as it was more balanced and also had more fruit on the palate. Jean Luc agreed, citing ‘more length’ on the Gazin (93M).

While the first two wines reminded me that 1959 wasn’t as good a year for Pomerol as it was for the Left Bank, the 1959 Petrus reminded me that Petrus doesn’t care. Jean Luc remarked, ‘its intensity is almost painful.’ There was a deep core of alcohol and acidity, as well as an ocean of plum and cassis. Its initial wood blew off into garden, chimney and ceramic, and its palate was absolutely f’in delicious. It popped and hit warp speed, leaving the other two Pomerols in another galaxy. Rich, regal, long and with great spine, slate and vigor, the Petrus made me change my mind about ’59 Pomerols (96+).

The 1959 Ausone wasn’t bad either. Was this the last great year of Ausone until the ‘80s? Perhaps, perhaps. The Ausone needed a lot of work as in aeration to shed its very dusty nose. Red fruits slowly emerged, along with big-time black licorice, rye bread and caraway seeds. It spine and spice created an impression of a deep forest in the heart of winter. The palate was saucy and firm, and it had soupy good fruit, and ‘tar on the back end’ per Jean Luc. Rich, delicious and ultimately perfumed, the Ausone was outstanding (95).

A 1959 Palmer was ‘stinky in the best possible way,’ according to Sarah. Additional aromas of cigar, tobacco, yeast and crusted red meat with a sea-like twist made up its unique nose. The palate was good but a little underwhelming after the Petrus and Ausone (92).

It was not a good day for the Left Bank, as its other representative, a 1959 Latour, was way too oaky, to be frank. I just couldn’t deal with it at this point in time, although I just think it was an off batch rather than an off bottle, so to speak (DQ).

There were a few dessert wines that continued the celebration, one being a 1959 J.J. Prum Wehlener Sonnenuhr Riesling Auslese. It smelled like mother’s milk. There was a whiff of oak that was so clean; it was amazingly young for a 50 year-old Riesling, and its color looked like it could be less than 10 years old! It was delicious and clean, linear and focused, elegance wine-sonified. Vanilla flavors lingered on its finish (93).

The 1959 Huet Vouvray Le Haut Lieu was much sweeter, musky and seepy, rich and smoky with a hint of Sauternes here. Aromas and flavors of yummy honeycomb, apricot and hints of dandelion were all present in this great wine (95).

There was another German, our last sweet wine of the night, a 1959 Von Schubert Maximin Grunhauser Herrenberg Riesling Beerenauslese. It had deep honey and kink in the nose. Thick, rich with a swath of wood but decadent honey to balance it, the Von Schubert was rich, lush and impressive (95).

We had our only bubbly from 1959, a 1959 Cristal. Although it was a little tough going dry after all those sweets, the Cristal managed to show quite well, although it might have showed a point or so better at the beginning of the night. Aromas of baked bread came out first in this rich and decadent nose, although the dessert wines definitely cut the sweetness in the mouth. Someone observed ‘a key lime citrus burst’ in the mouth, no doubt getting that tang due to the dessert wines stealing some sugar from the spotlight. Flavors of oats, earth and yeast were more dominant accordingly, and there was still a kiss of spritz in this sunsetting yet beautiful Cris (94).

There was actually one last wine, a blind wine, served courtesy of one of Mr. Happy’s friend’s who could not make the event. He knew the lineup in advance, and wanted to get him something that he would never forget. The nose had ‘green apple jolly rancher’ per Mr. Happy. It was like Sprite meets Grappa to me. It smelled like I was in a nightclub where I didn’t know the address (not a good thing), and ‘waking up next to a stranger’ per one of the ladies on hand. It was a NV Thunderbird, particular flavor undetermined, if they even have flavors of that swill lol. It was the first time I ever had some T’bird, and definitely the last. Man, that stuff was putrid, so it got the rare ‘Not Recommended’ (NR).

A toast was in order, and a good friend of Mr. Happy delivered and summed up this celebration with one of his favorite quotes, ‘Though youth gave us love and roses, age still leaves us friends and wine.’

I will always drink to that.

FIN”¦

”¦but it wasn’t over. Two days later, we were together again, this time closer to Mr. Happy’s home upstate, and with a whole host more people, including many of the Acker crew. It still had its share of 1959s, although since there were over fifty people, and at least six bottles of every wine served, there was a wider range of wines on this evening.

A glass of 1985 Salon kicked things off. It had a yeasty nose with lots of game and a miso glaze, also with hints of white chocolate and musk. The palate was rich, spritely and long with excellent lift. Very meaty and very gamy, the 1985 Salon again gave me the impression that it might mature earlier than other Salons from top vintages, but it was still outstanding and with serious structure (95).

A 1971 Schloss Eltz Rauenthaler Baissen Riesling Spatlese was delicious, just a pure, hedonistic and juicy Riesling that was in the perfect sweet spot, aka not too sweet and not too dry. There were great petrol aromas and sweet fruit, and aromas of honey, musk, apricot and lychee. There were rich flavors of orange and honey glaze, and a hint of nice ‘butter’ per Alexander the Great (93).

A flight of 2002 Burgs were next, beginning with a 2002 Henri Gouges Nuits St. Georges Blanc La Perriere and ending with a Pillot that I will get to in a minute. Both were pungent and acidic at first, but the Gouges the more so of the two. It had a pungent, anisy nose with aromas of rusted metal and wet earth, but the palate was rich with a lot of backside showing. It had a bruising style, big but clumsy (91).

The Jean-Marc Pillot Puligny Montrachet Cailleret had a cleaner nose that was more mineral driven and rocky, with tantalizing hints of dew-laced yellow fruits. It was balanced with a really nice perfume to it, and what I would call ‘make up flavors.’ Rainwater flavors were clean, elegant and stylish (93).

A 1959 Josef Schmitt Trittenheimer Apotheke Riesling Auslese had a great, yeasty nose with additional aromas of orange peel, rubber, mint and a kiss of very mature wood. Alexander noticed ‘basement,’ and that was a ‘great’ call, of course. There were good sugar flavors on its oily palate with a kiss of cement (94+).

The procession of ‘59s continued with a 1959 Cune Rioja Reserva Especial Vina Real. Aromas of chocolate, game, iodine and lots of leather sat perched in the glass, alert and ready for duty. The palate was also very leathery, still young and with a nice citrus smack to its finish. The Unico that followed made the Cune seem drier and outclassed this excellent Rioja, although others did prefer the Cune, as difficult as I found that to believe (93).

The 1959 Vega Sicilia Unico was incredibly exotic and complex. There was a lot more wood in the nose at first, but it soon gave way to cherry, vanilla and soy, along with a sweet, leathery kink. The wine was flat-out delicious, rich and meaty in that kinky, Unico style. Its kink was in the citrus and leather family, and the wine was edgy and hit staccato notes deftly. It was a great, classic Unico with nice musk, great spice and crackle to its finish, which still had good tannins (95+).

We had the 1959 Moillard-Grivot Musigny again, and I liked the bottle better on this night, perhaps because it was the only Burgundy on this evening ? (Actually, there was one more later, off the menu, so to speak”¦) Competition can be tough, as we all know. It was ‘blue velvet’ per Alexander, whose greatness was showing brightly again. This bottle came across more regally, and its long, gritty tannins played out well with earth, autumn and red fruit flavors (93).

A jero of 1959 Gruaud Larose had a reticent nose, deep but reticent, with nice black fruits, nuts and earth, but shy overall. The palate had classic qualities although it was a bit fruit forward. Bright and round, it was long and gritty but simple, possibly reconditioned (91J).

It was dueling jeros, the next being a 1989 Chateau de Beaucastel Chateauneuf du Pape. The week was coming full circle, and the Beaucastel was a complete wine to match. Alexander the Great found ‘pork rinds and salty bacon,’ and along with that there was deep violet, cassis and all the black fruits, dark as night, with a hint of garrigue. The palate was superb with hints of pepper and more black fruits, and phenomenal t ‘n a. Its earth components were gritty, agile and balanced, and its finish thick. The ’89 remains a great wine and the true modern-day legend of this legendary estate (96J).

A 1983 Jaboulet Hermitage La Chapelle was a worthy adversary, ‘irony’ per the Great One, who added ‘blood.’ It was much more wound than I remember it last being, but upon looking at the bottle, it did look like a later release. Aromas of black fruits, earth and hot stones were complemented by a big, beefy palate, which was really sturdy for a 1983. It had lots of power and a similar finish to the Beaucastel in its gritty, earthy and balanced style, although it had a more roasted flavor to it (94).

There was one last wine to this night, a 1959 La Tache redux, from the same batch as the bottle served two nights prior at Per Se. It was also gamy with a bit of stew and raisin at first. Mr. Happy noted ‘sous bois city.’ It opened up into aromas of bouillon, autumn, earth, a pinch of cola and wild greens. The palate was insanely good ”“ rich, hearty and fatty like a good piece of sashimi, with awesome concentration, hearty garden flavors and superb acidity. It both danced and boxed, to continue an analogy from the first evening. This was special stuff, and it may not have been a 100% perfect bottle, either, but it didn’t matter (97).
What a week and many thanks to Mr. Happy. Encore encore! I think you need to turn fifty again next year, and the year after that, and the year after that”¦

July 2nd proved to be one of the year’s most noteworthy wine bashes, a birthday celebration for wine’s original ‘Bad Boy’ and 12 Angry Manner Bruce. Bruce is a veteran of the music industry and accordingly knows how to throw a party, and about forty of his closest friends including many significant others gathered at his home for a celebration of wine and Champagne.

It started in fast and furious fashion, as when I arrived with Big Boy, such dignitaries as Airplane Eddie, Tennessee Tom, Wheels, Brad and others were already sampling some goodies, and when I say goodies, I mean some really goodies. Everyone’s generosity was on full display in honor of our gracious host.

A quick glass of bubbly came my way to waken up the palate, and it was an obscure 1969 Reserve Selection Le Mesnil, apparently some joint bottling made by the growers at the time of the famed Champagne vineyard. It was the first time that I ever even saw such a bottling, and it had a rich and fat nose with aromas of butter and vanilla. It was toasty and smoky but a bit alcoholic, rough around the edges and a bit chemical in its flavor profile, but an interesting experience nonetheless (88).

There was a lot of going around the room, a lot of which was thanks to Wheels, so I did my best to catch up quickly. A 1964 La Tache had a dusty nose, but there was sweet perfume behind it, mainly rose with a lot of minerals in tow. The palate was rich, hearty and gamy, classic 1964, with a sweet front palate that was ‘beautiful’ (95).

The 1962 La Tache was even better. There was more lift and breed to its nose, which displayed fine aromas of regal garden and tobasco goodness. The nose was so fine and expressive, gamy and sweet in that perfect, old Burgundy way. The palate had length, fatness and richness, also gamy and meaty as well. It was pretty extraordinary and a testament to how good ‘62s can be when they are on, although Eddie chimed in that he had had better bottles. True, I have had 99-pointers as well of this wine, but neither of us were complaining (96+).

What better way to follow up the ’62 La Tache than with a 1962 Romanee Conti. There was this initial hint of baby powder in the nose, which was deeper, thicker and richer than the La Tache. There was a kiss of good stink here along with enough meat to satisfy the hungriest of carnivores. The wine was rich and saucy, smooth and luscious. Its rich, gamy fruit had ‘rose petals galore,’ but its palate was smoother and more satiny than the nose led me to believe, showing more of that ’62 class. It was very balanced with nice slate and minerals on its finish, which was a ‘good dirty’ (96).

Big Boy pulled out one of the real treasures in his cellar, a 1923 Liger-Belair La Tache. I was lucky enough to have this bottle from Rob with Louis Michel Liger-Belair a few months ago, and I was more than happy to have it again. It was a ‘wow’ wine. The nose was so rich and saucy with incredible complexity, just so much going on. Minerals, gravel, dust and spice were perched atop beefy, rich fruit, with additional aromas of tomato, garden, oil and a pinch of Worcestershire. The palate was rich and still hearty after all these years, flat-out fantastic. Its acidity was endless. This is definitely one of the greatest wines ever made (98).

The hits kept on coming as a 1929 Romanee Conti was next, courtesy of Eddie. Unfortunately, it was a touch corked, but it did blow off and was still well worth getting to know, and the palate was not even showing any traces of cork. The wine was satiny smooth with great texture and hints of earth, spice, dust and leather. There was great mouth feel to this gorgeous wine, whose acidity was still there, but not as forceful as the ‘23’s. A touch of citrus rounded out another classic, whose palate was so good, I was hesitant to call it ‘affected,’ but I decided ultimately that it was affected due to its nose (95A).

Next up was my contribution for the evening, a jeroboam of 1957 La Tache, and what a jero it was. This is one of the few wines from 1957, Bruce’s birth year, that can still deliver, and out of jeroboam it was extraordinary. This bottle would be a good exhibit A for those that feel the best barrels often went into the large formats of . The nose was gorgeous and pungent, wild and gamy with that pure La Tache style. It was incredibly aromatic, with oceans of spice, mushroom, truffle oil and garden. The palate was juicy and saucy, rich with beautiful rose hip flavors and the Vitamin C. Eddie hailed the nose as ‘singing’ while King Angry, a late arrival due to holiday traffic, observed its ‘burnt’ qualities, although he was not hating. This wine was still singing out of the bottle eight hours later”¦impressive (95J).

The 1942 Krug signaled the end of the procession of Romanee Conti, although I would soon sample one more that had already been opened before I got there. Of course, we had big Boy to thank for this treasure, from this rarely seen vintage of Champagne. This was special stuff, with heavenly aromas of butter and vanilla. The bubbly had perfect color and poise, and its palate had a perfect balance of fruit and finish. Bubbles were still present though mature. Butter butter butter was what this beauty was about, although there were great cement flavors to its fine finish. The nose became grainy. Big Boy came over to me and asked, ‘what did you give this, 96, 97 points?’ To which I replied, ‘it’s right there on the border of 97.’ Big Boy was pleased that he knows my palate. Everything about this Champagne was beautiful, but I kept it South of the 97-point border in the end, as its ‘earlier’ maturity kept it from that ‘best wines that I have ever had’ category, but it sure was close (96+).

A blind wine came out courtesy of Mr. Antonio Galloni. Of course, it had to be an Italian wine, although it gave me a bit of a Bordeaux impression at first, until a few swirls brought out its true character. It had a deep nose full of mocha, cedar, earth, leather and a nutty glaze. Alexander the Great chipped in, ‘Christmas tree sap,’ and there was also this kinky tar. The palate was great, leathery and gritty with intense spice. Flavors of tar and chocolate were dominant, and this 1982 Giacosa Barolo Collina Rionda was in a great spot, and it wasn’t even a Riserva (95).

Antonio also treated us to a 1970 Giacosa Barolo Collina Rionda, which had a much milder nose to the 1982. There was more wheat cracker, yeast and zeppole here, and the palate was smooth and balanced with nice tannins, but it left a simpler impression after the 1982 despite nice grit on its finish (92).

I got a swallow of the 1934 Romanee Conti that somehow I missed prior. It was only a swallow, so forgive the brief note. This wine has been amongst the greatest of my life, and while this bottle was great, it was a bit affected and browned around the edges. There were unique pizza oven aromas, which were probably in their tertiary or later stages by the time I got to taste. The palate was thick, rich, saucy and oily with flavors of orange zest, slate and port (95+A).

Eddie pulled another whopper out of his arsenal, this being a double magnum of 1955 La Mission Haut Brion. It was another special bottle, and our first of only a few Bordeaux on this magical night. As can be typical with old La Mission, gravel and slate jumped out of the nose. Slate continued to dominate, but black fruits slowly crawled out from underneath, along with charcoal, peanut and chocolate. On the palate, slate and chocolate continued to exert their influences, along with nice plum. Rich, long and fine, the ’55 had a thick finish where the gravel and charcoal came out again. Zippy, long and extraordinary, the La Miss was still young out of double mag (96+D).

A magnum of 1953 Richebourg was unfortunately quite gassy and like ‘rancid crayons,’ per King Angry. Needless to say, it was (DQ).

A 1964 R. Engel Grands Echezeaux had a chapitalized nose with aromas of brown sugar, oat and a touch of pizza crust. Eddie wasn’t impressed, calling it ‘burnt in the mouth, horrible tail.’ There were some rich red fruits in the mouth, but there was also a bit of alley, barn and animal as well (89).

A 1969 Hudelot Musigny had that same chapitalized style of the Engel, possessing brown sugar, oat and more rust. The finish was longer and better, gritty and stony. Someone called it ‘pungent egg soaked in alcohol.’ It was very good, but you had to like that chapitalized style (91).

It was time for some more bubbly, and King Angry had brought a rare jeroboam of 1945 Ruinart. Wheat jumped out of the nose, along with a touch of grass, hay and ‘camomille frappucino’ per The Great One, who then added, ‘pumpernickel,’ while I added buttered. It was tasty, round and smooth, definitely possessing camomille flavors as well. It had richness with a dollop of sauciness, a hint of lime and a nutty finish. Butter and ‘caramel’ joined the party, and I found the Ruinart excellent, although a bit wild and woolly, and aggressive for some (93J).

A 1964 Krug Collection had a superb nose, possessing great freshness. There were aromas of whitewall tires along with the leather interior, and white fruits, flowers and rain. The palate was classic, long and dry, although at first a bit linear. Someone called it ‘ordinary for Krug,’ but its acidity slowly started to emerge, and it took off like a rocket. It became more buttery, more gamy, more minerally, just more. It zipped into the future and finished strongly (95+).

A pair of Goisses were next, beginning with a magnum of 1966 Philipponat Clos des Goisses, which came across young as heck. It was recently redisgorged, of course, in 2003. Pungent and gamy, it was spritely, long and zippy, but simple. King Angry found it ‘primary’ (91M).

The 1964 Philipponat Clos des Goisses magnum was also recently redisgorged (in 2000), but I enjoyed it much more. There were more mature flavors of rich butter and a great core. Rich, racy and zippy, I couldn’t read my notes too well other than great iron flavors. The King made a great point about how the extra three years of disgorgement made a big difference, but I think that there were also some inherent differences in the style of the wines and vintages. After about twenty wines, the notes started to get a little brief, as I was not spitting much. Apologies in advance of the rest of this article (94M).

A mini-Krug vertical broke out, beginning with a 1982 Krug Clos du Mesnil, which had amazing aromatics. The palate was rich yet reticent in what could best be described as a sleeping beauty (95).

The 1979 Krug Clos du Mesnil, its first vintage, was corked. That sucked (DQ).

The 1985 Krug Clos du Mesnil was fantastic. It was rich, buttery and classic, so balanced and long, make that really long. Its zip and zoom were still massive, although it was in a spot where the words ‘Great Awakening’ came to mind. It was King Angry’s favorite ‘young’ bottle of champagne from the evening; he loved its powerful fruit and acidity, but also the fact that it was ‘light as a feather’ (97).

The 1969 Krug Collection magnum was right there with the ’64, possessing tart lemon flavors balanced by sweet marzipan kisses. It was outstanding (95M).

The 1995 Dom Perignon out of jeroboam was long, grainy, edgy and zippy but one-dimensional. Ray and Bruce thought it was ‘flat-out great,’ Ray adding ‘smoky aromas, a wealth of yellow fruit and that creamy DP style”¦staggering.’ I should add that they were both plastered at this point lol. The King had his hand on a saber already, so I didn’t want to argue (92J).

The 1979 Krug Collection magnum was the same as it ever was, but old Krug is always a lot better than Old Milwaukee, and this old Krug was still young. Racy and zippy, NASA should test the ’79 as an alternative to rocket fuel (95+M).

A flurry of wines came back before the Champagnes answered the bell one last time. 1961 La Mission Haut Brion, now that got my attention. It was another classic La Miss, with gravel and great, rich cassis fruit to match. Long and sensual, the wine was good too 🙂 (95).

A magnum of 1929 Rausan Segla from the Grunewald cellar now via Minnesota’s #1 troublemaker was extraordinary. Is there a bottle from Wolfgang’s cellar that hasn’t been? The Segla was sweet, rich, round and lush, displaying dynamite old book and ‘library’ aromas and flavors (95).

The Artful Roger was in the house, with bags of”¦wine in tow. One of those wines was a 1969 Rousseau Clos de la Roche, which was so mint jelly I wanted a lamb chop. I am actually not eating red meat for the summer, so restraint was in order. It was rich, sweet, lush and exotic, still delicate and full of menthol (94).

The 1966 Guigal Cote Rotie La Mouline was full of violets and purple fruits along with light pepper. Rich, long and creamy, it still had acidity and length. Its pepper turned more to shades of white in the mouth, and the first vintage of La Mouline again proved to be timeless and extraordinary (96).

A magnum of 1966 Palmer was beautiful and classic, long and feminine and gorgeous. It still had edge and a lot of slate on its finish (94).

The next wine I had I can’t read what it was or remember. It was from ’83, maybe ’93, and it was leathery, long and balanced. Highly recommended 🙂 (93).

A 1962 Vega Sicilia Unico was delicious. Rich and headstrong, possessing classic Unico leather, kink, egg and meaty fruit, this magnum jumped off the page at the end of the night for its richness and vigor. It flirted with oaky but ended up being good ol’ fashioned good wood (95M).

A 1989 Coche-Dury Meursault Rougeots was in the house, again courtesy of the Artful Roger, and it was excellent. You want more notes, bring me another bottle ha ha (93).

There was a 1964 Dom Perignon Oenotheque, which was big and full of straw and hay. Zippy and heavy, this was serious stuff and an older green label Oeno. As the Angriest of the Angry pointed out, it had ‘remarkable freshness due to its late disgorgement as well as the complexity of a 45 year-old Champagne’ (95).

The 1996 Krug Clos du Mesnil shattered every glass in the room once opened. Champagne of a lifetime? Bet the house on it, with or without equity in it (98).

There was a 1988 Dom Perignon and a 1990 Taittinger Comtes de Champagne, both hanging out in that excellent zone. It started to get a little ugly, so the long, stumbling and mumbling goodbye commenced. I think the main point was thank you Bruce, thank you Bruce, thank you Bruce. To many mooooooooooooooorrrrrrre!!!

Bipin returned to Las Vegas this year to sample the cuisine of a couple of his favorite French chefs while they were in town, which is a lot easier than a trip to Paris! Joel Robuchon and Guy Savoy were both in Vegas, and Bipin followed suit accordingly since his aces were in the hole. Of course, he planned a wine weekend around it, and this year he was in the mood for some . It ended up being a weekend of mainly Montrachet and La Tache, although thanks to some generosity of Midwestern Magnum Mark, a few Richebourgs made their way into the mix for some interesting perspective. As with every Bipin event, the food, the wine and the company were all extraordinary.

We started Friday night at Robuchon with a 2001 Montrachet, whose nose jumped out of the glass with that class. Sweet butter, musk heaven and a core of richness flirted with that touch of botrytis that the Montys almost always have. The palate was shut down, however, leaving a soft and confused impression at first. There was nice, light grit and decent length but that soft impression never left. Flavors of white tea and ‘crushed almonds’ were present (per Mr. Wine Vegas, aka Gil), but this 2001 was definitely in a bit of a dumb phase (94).

The 2000 Montrachet was more elegant than the ’01, long and cleaner in its aromas, more 2000 in style than . There was a kiss of ice skating rink to its citrusy nose, and the palate was delicious, with lots of minerals, grit and elegance, although King Richard found it the ‘weak man here.’ It didn’t have the raw materials of the ’01, but I found it quite pleasant, although it did wane in the glass. The 2000 was singing for Ed, and Bipin admired its acidity (93).

The 1999 Montrachet took control of our first flight with its spiny character. Gil admired ‘Chanel No. 5,’ while someone else called it ‘the most pungent,’ part of its spiny quality. The nose was full of anise, hot stones and minerals, and there were nice flavors to match. Rocky, spiny, edgy and long, the ’99 rocked and rolled over the previous two, and it was ‘the biggest of the flight, obviously,’ as King Richard decreed (95).

An animated discussion followed about the first flight. All were kind of closed and shut down; words like ‘disappointing, short and no subtlety’ were thrown around a bit maliciously, but given the price tag and expectations, perhaps they were a bit justified, but how a wine is showing versus what it is and where it is going are two different stories. ‘None are really showing right now,’ Mr. Vegas concurred, but we both agreed that all of these will benefit from Father Time.

The second flight began with the 1990 Montrachet, which started to show the benefits of age in a very regal way. There were aromas of butter, oil, tea and a bit of fortune cookie here, and the palate was rich, smoky and long, with more noticeable alcohol. Richard observed, ‘more butter,’ and while the alcohol made the ’90 hotter, it stayed on the outskirts of integrated, and it was clearly the best Monty so far. Flavors of vanilla and rainforest rounded out this ‘marvelous, always marvelous’ wine according to Ed (95).

The 1989 Montrachet was cleaner and spinier than the ’90, and its palate was long, clean and buttery, but simple. Gil noticed, ‘dill weed,’ and the ’89 was clearly softer and possessing less power than the ’90. It was a mismatch. No one was blown away by this tepid ’89 that had more flash than fortitude. Bipin admitted that the ’89 has always been disappointing and never impressive (92).

It was on to the reds, beginning with the 1998 La Tache. The ’98 had a taut, vitaminy and leathery nose that showed the best qualities of the vintage. Gil admitted that 1998 was ‘a vintage that grows on you,’ and perhaps went a bit overboard with the question, ‘The 1993s of the future?’ The first red after a bunch of whites always makes a good impression lol. It had a pungent core with lots of cinnamon spice, and concentrated, fresh fruits in the nose, which continued to sing and change and develop. The palate was also leathery and cinnamony with more noticeable oak. Gil called it ‘ratatouille in a glass,’ and the tomato and garden were there. We both found this crazy yet distinct tequila with lime aroma in the nose after some time in the glass. It was a ‘wow’ impression once identified, as it was so strong! The palate stayed oaky and dry overall, but give this complicated La Tache some time to integrate, and you may have yourself a sleeper (92+).

The 1988 La Tache had a lot of urine in its nose, or as Gil politically corrected me, ‘uric acid,’ in this nightclub sofa kind of way. Catbox, stewed tomato (‘canned actually,’ Mr. V chimed in), citrus and tang all emerged in this pungent nose, along with nice minerals. Both the nose and the palate turned green a la the incredible Hulk in this tannic wine, with me noting peas and Gil ‘fava beans.’ Whether that will be a good thing in the future remains to be seen (92+).

As noted already, a handful of Richebourgs made their way into our Montrachet and La Tache weekend, thanks to the generosity of Midwestern Magnum Mark. Merci beaucoup! I liked the nose of the 1988 Richebourg better than the LT; there was more earth, more open red fruits, musk, forest, truffle and sweet mint aromas. The palate had delicious red fruits and nice citrus vigor; the Richebourg was classic and delicious. Gil called it a ‘Rayas impersonator with its Chateauneuf pepper.’ On this day and for this vintage, the Richebourg out-charmed the La Tache (93).

The 1993 Richebourg was more coy and wound, like the vintage, with lots of stems and wintry red fruits in its nose. The palate was milky and stemmy, with nice earth and forest qualities but a bit unyielding overall (91).

Our overlapping trio of duets finished with a 1993 La Tache, which was richer and more concentrated than the Richebourg. It has an oilier nose, and the palate was long and gritty with flavors of leather and strawberry, along with excellent earth and waterfall ones. King Richard found it ‘very lovely, pure silk.’ It kept growing and growing in the glass, and while this was not the magic of that one 97-point experience that I have had with this wine, it was still flirting with outstanding. 1993 s do have a lot of variation, I should add (94+).

The next flight began with a gorgeous 1985 La Tache. I have always loved this vintage for La Tache, despite the fact that it has always been picked on by some as far as the ‘great’ vintages of La Tache go. The nose was open, ripe and full of sweet red fruit. Rose, nut, mint, bouillon and game were all present. Its palate was more concentrated, oily and tasty, long and zippedy doo dah with its lipsmacking finish. There was real character here, and secondary flavors of cola and tobacco joined the party. Gil admired that ‘it has everything,’ and there were plenty of vitamins and pitch left on its young finish. It was ultimately Gil’s and my wine of the night (96).

Unfortunately, the 1978 La Tache was oxidized. Ouch (DQ).

The 1990 La Tache was the right stuff. Its nose was rich and concentrated, yet reticent. Very saucy, there was oil in dem dar hills. George called it ‘big and brutal,’ and it was full of foresty, black fruits. The palate had enough tannins and acidity for an entire vintage of Burgundy, with secondary hints of rubber tire. The finish was super hearty, but its fruit and up-front nature were shut down and quiet despite its obvious richness. To be continued”¦(95+).

The 2003 La Tache sung ‘baby baby’ with its nose. Aromas of black raspberry and minerals dominated, and its nose gave me a bit of a 1998 impression. The palate was smooth and soft, and while thick, it just didn’t seem to have the acidity one wants for long-term aging, a knock on the vintage overall (93).

We had a treat for dessert, a 1900 d’Oliveras Madeira Barbeito. I love old Madeira, and although I rarely have dessert wine as I find it to be too much sugar for my body after having other wines (alcohol is sugar, after all), if I had to choose one dessert wine to have, it would be Madeira. Tea, molasses, tang, lemon, zip”¦all were present in this sexy, smacky wine. Still beefy, it was like molasses with a twist of lemon and a side of horseradish. Its concentration was outstanding (95).

Most found the 1985 to be the wine of the night, or at least the most enjoyable, although someone found the 1993 ‘the best wine in every respect.’

Day two was a lunch at Guy Savoy, with Guy himself manning the ship, which is always something extra special. Bipin said how he prefers lunch to dinner, as the palate is always fresher and more alert during the day. The 2006 Montrachet kicked things off in a clean and fresh fashion, with yellow flowers and fruits seeping out of its nose, along with citrus and musk. There were nice minerals delicately perched atop its other aromas. The palate was round with medium body, good minerals and a nice finish. It had a pleasant, perfumed way about it, with some of its mineral qualities showing obtusely due to its youth, but overall it was a beautiful and promising, young Montrachet (94).

The 2005 Montrachet had a deeper nose with more toast and wood, integrated at the last bar possible. The nose was bigger and had more weight, and a bit of spice was just right. The palate was really long, yet still delicate up front. It squeezed on the back side, however, with lots of minerals exerting themselves alongside citrus juice, twists and pop. There were lots of young, woodsy flavors here. Mark found the ‘06 ‘more delicate yet really closed,’ while the ’05 had more power and was ultimately the better wine. Bipin cooed how ‘the first two are incredible, the acidity is so high. The ’06 is flamboyant, and the ’05 needs time’ (95).

We time traveled with the second flight to the 1986 Montrachet, which had a milky nose, ‘2 day old milk?’ Gil questioned. JJ added, ‘clams, sea salt, ocean.’ The nose was yeasty and buttery, with sweet corn, but it had that old feeling to it, older than it should have, perhaps. The palate was rich with a backside that was out of balance and woodsy in its flavor profile. The finish was hot and long with nice, slaty flavors of yeast and white cola. It got fresher and sweeter with air, morphing into corn oil meets caramel, getting dirty and staying rich. That reminds me of a few people lol. JB admired its high acidity, calling it ‘more ethereal and more feminine.’ In terms of its overall existence, the ’86 is declining, but still holding on to excellence (93).

The 1985 Montrachet had a cleaner nose and came across elegantly with flashes of yellow, waterfall, hints of apple, grilled something a la sea bass or some sort of white fish, along with nice sprinkles of white Asian spices. The palate was a bit dirty in is flavors, soft, easy and round with more milky flavors. It was a bit stewy, with some alley and backwater as well. Mark observed ‘sawdust,’ and Gil ‘crushed Triscuit.’ It did gain in the glass and evened out with the 1986, and JB also found it ‘funky in the beginning but getting sweeter and more structure.’ For both these bottles, though, I wanted more (93).

The 1978 Montrachet was spectacular as always. I have had this wine a half-dozen times in my life, and if there is a better Montrachet, then I haven’t had it. JJ noted ‘milk house,’ and there was more power here in this ’78 than either of its predecessors, even though it was older. Musky goodness, fire and creamed corn were in its richer nose, which had nice toast and a smoky sex appeal. The palate was great with rich, buttery flavors, an oily palate and a long finish with the acidity of the previous two wines combined. This was special stuff. Its stalky flavors had lots of corn, too, along with lots of mountainous qualities. It was so rich and concentrated, with great musk and a lot of personality. While I have had 99 point bottles of this wine, this was ONLY (97). JB concurred, and he would know.

Montrachet’s turn was over, and it was back to La Tache, beginning with the 2004 La Tache. The ’04 was super wound and high-pitched with aromas of crushed red fruits, sandalwood, black raspberry, stems, a kiss of nut butter and lots of t ‘n a. The nose was very expressive, and its acidity impressive. Mark was saying how he has been impressed with 2004s, especially s, in general. This ’04, despite its youth, was really singing, and I kept noting its acidity over and over, a good sign for its future (94+).

The 2002 La Tache was classic with its crushed roses, great spice, vitamins, great stems, olives and lots of citric tension. There was great (sensing a trend?) vim here, both to the nose and to the palate. Its flavors were long and stylish, elegant like a lady with a few bodyguards in tow. Its acidity was also superb, even more so than the ’04 as it was more reined in but still vigorous. ‘So good, so long, so fine’ summed it up. I couldn’t help but think about how great this 2002 was, and how the vintage is general is a bit under the radar in the market right now as far as top-tier vintages of Burgundy go. Everyone talks about 1999 and 2005, but 2002 could be a vintage that finds itself in that discussion more and more as time goes on (96).

The 2001 La Tache had Gil’s attention right away, not something easy to accomplish. He noted ‘garrigue, olive grove and lavender.’ There was some great pitch in the nose, and the ’01 possessed more fruit than the ’02 along with more sweetness. It also had some of the length of the ’02 but was milder in that regard. Gil still found it a bit Rhonish. The palate had nice stems and was elegant, but it didn’t have the power of the ’02. There was nice cedar smack to the finish in this excellent ’01 (94).

The 2000 La Tache was ‘a jar of dill pickles’ per Mr. Vegas, but it became curry in a hurry for me. Olive, dill and green bean were all in the nose. Its palate also had dill flavors, but it was fleshy and tasty, on a faster maturity track than the previous three, but there’s at least a decade or two to enjoy this vintage of LT for sure. While congenial and forward, it still had strength and ageability (93).

Mark commented on the flight that if you had these four wines served single blind, you would know which one is which, as they all classically reflected the vintage and showed each year’s typicity. Bipin hailed the ’02 as ‘a truly great wine,’ how good the 2000 and 2004 were ‘a surprise,’ and the ’01 ‘great but monolithic.’

JJ found the 1996 La Tache like ‘Bordeaux.’ I found it classic ’96 ”“ screechy with its long acid, but it also had some fatness to its fruit, decadently both purple and red. Slate, rubber tire and minerals all blended with the acid, and menthol was hidden underneath. It felt like the menthol will ultimately take over the character of this wine in time. The palate was coy, softer than I expected, still possessing length and grit with nice tannin definition, and more menthol and slate on its finish. The nose was special, but at the moment, the palate of this LT was shut down, although the wine still screams potential (94+).

The 1995 La Tache had crushed red fruits and bull’s blood to its reticent nose, which was also a bit rubbery. The palate was rusty, dry and long with a serious finish, but will the fruit catch up? The 1995 rap was evident here, as someone noted, ‘just structure, really no fruit.’ Gil chipped in at the end, ‘carraway seed and Chinese black tea’ (93).

The 1991 La Tache had a special nose. It had rich, concentrated and saucy fruit. Kisses of milk, vitamin, citrus, rubber, minerals and leather danced around its flashy core of sweet, pungent red fruit. The palate was delicious with great iron flavors, musk and more red fruits. It was noticeably long, and someone called it ‘superb’ (95).

The Good Doctor shared some comments with the group about the first two flights, hailing La Tache as ‘always enjoyable even though all fairly young. The ’02 stood out, and in the second flight the ’96.’

The next flight began with another comparison of La Tache and Richebourg, this time the vintage being 1989. The 1989 La Tache was a Bordeaux impersonator with its open, cassisy fruit and cedar, along with a pinch of pavement. There was nice flesh to its nose as well. The palate was rich and hearty with black fruits and flavors. Very musky, the ’89 was long and had excellent acidity, very 1996 in style with all that slate and acidity. It got a little dirtier in the glass (94).

The 1989 Richebourg was more classic, possessing more elegance than the LT. There were plenty of musk, earth and nut aromas balanced by rose and vitamins. There were also lots of vitamin flavors and a long finish, which was full of excellent acidity like its sibling. I liked the fruit of the Richebourg and its flavors better, but I couldn’t rate it higher than the La Tache and the LT’s impressive breed and structure. With that being said, the Richebourg was really good and a more enjoyable wine on this occasion (94).

1989 remains an interesting vintage to me, one that is quality and seemingly forgotten in the minds of many Burgundy lovers. 1988 was a vintage embraced by Parker that had the market’s hopes very high accordingly, but it soon became controversial with its big tannins and monstrous style, so there was some trepidation over embracing 1989, and then 1990 quickly overshadowed not only 1989, but them all, so to speak. It remains a year worth getting to know a little more in Burgundy.

I had saved a few sips of 2006 and 2005 Montrachet, and it was at this point that I revisited both. The ’06 opened a little but was still dusty and shy. The ’05 also gained a little more, but not much more, and the ’06 seemed to gain on it.

The 1980 La Tache had a great nose, ‘so great,’ I put. It was musky, open and sexy with its strawberry fruit. There was also great earth here, and this struck me as the greatest ‘young’ vintage of La Tache to have that also shows mature qualities. It won’t get any better, but it will hold for a while, too. There were delicious flavors of menthol, tobacco, rose oil, ‘vanilla’ per Mark, and ‘mesquite’ per another (96).

The last red on this afternoon was a 1964 Richebourg, which was the third time I had had this wine in six weeks. I love it when that happens. It got an ‘ok’ from the Good Doctor, and it was not as good as the other two bottles recently sampled, but still excellent. It was hearty a la ’64, with nice rose and red fruits, good dirt and earthy flavors and hints of menthol. Its tannins and acidity were first only pleasing, but soon gained in the glass, like a mini-explosion. JJ found it ‘very candied and very sweet,’ and that sweetness played into its minty, fresh and elegant style. It couldn’t quite shake its dirt clean and maintained an earthy streak (93).

We finished the afternoon with another glorious Madeira, an 1875 Barbeito Madeira Malvazia. It never ceases to amaze me how young 100+ year-old Madeira can come across. Aromas of raisin, fig, date and nut musk seeped out of the glass. This was more elegant and not as heavy as yesterday’s Madeira, medium-bodied and possessing great spice to both the nose and palate. JJ noticed its ‘oak,’ and there was this charred, wet oak quality. There were indoor screen flavors, which wasn’t a bad thing. JJ also noted ‘cinnamon’ and ‘Duncan Hines’ (93).

Day three was at Picasso’s, one of my favorite restaurants in Las Vegas. What makes Picasso’s special besides the multi-million dollar paintings by its namesake hanging all over the restaurant, is the fact that it is one of the few restaurants in Vegas where the actual chef is in the restaurant every night. It makes a difference, and Julian Serrano was in fine form as always. We got off to another good start with the 2004 Montrachet, whose nose jumped off the page. It was very musky and minerally, with aromas of sweet butter, spice, nuts and more musk. The palate was smooth, balanced and long, rounded and feminine in style. Bipin admired its ‘high acidity’ and felt it had a ‘great future.’ While its nose rippled with character, the palate of the ’04 was a bit coy and still missing some weight, although I am sure it will improve with time (94+).

The 2003 Montrachet had a mild nose by comparison with light yellow hues including corn and the stalk, along with a lot of slate. There were nice, round, forward flavors with some richness despite a softer and simpler overall personality. It is a good vintage of Monty to drink young with its round, lush and forward style. Bipin commented on its ‘low acidity,’ and a debate emerged about its ageability, and Mark stood up for its potential, comparing it to 1976, another hot vintage (92).

The 2002 Montrachet had a complex nose with more orange fruits and peel, very penetrating aromatically in a slow and seductive way. There was great nut and caramel kink here. The palate was rich, luscious and honeyed with a long finish; this was clearly outstanding stuff and carried my 2002 thesis quite admirably, that 2002 is a forgotten vintage in the context of big-time wines. Manny hailed it as ‘the most balanced’ of the three, and some secondary mango emerged, along with more butter and musk. Mark felt that each wine in the flight had its own distinctive quality, ‘the citrus minerality of ’04, the opulence of ’03, and the balance of 2002’ (95).

The next flight paired 1996 against 1995, always a fascinating comparison when you have two good bottles. The 1996 Montrachet had a bit of milk and waterfall in the nose; the high acidity of the vintage stood out in the nose but in an elegant and refined way. It had a long, wintry palate that was elegant, regal and stylish. Seomone remarked how the ‘nose was more closed, but the finish explosive.’ Mark shared my opinion of the wine when he commented that it was the ‘lightest of the two but surprisingly long, although I expected more’ (94+).

The 1995 Montrachet was much more honeyed and forward, with Mark noting its ‘butter.’ I could not get past its honey; it was pure honey in the nose. The palate was much richer, also woodsy, but fat, long and edgy. There were great minerals on its finish, and ‘a lot of botrytis’ per Bipin. It was exotic, like a freak show or Frankenstein, take your pick. Rich, buttery and kinky, the 1995 reminded Mark of 2005, which he found a step behind this wild and crazy 1995. While the 1995 wasn’t exactly classical, it was definitely jazzy with a lot of bass. The ’95 and ’96 were two totally different wines (95).

We said goodbye to Montrachet for the weekend with an unfortunately oxidized 1983 Montrachet (DQ).

We said hello again to La Tache with a fantastic 2006 La Tache. The ’06 was so fresh, brimming with crushed red fruits, stems, roses, oil, mint, black cherry and cola. It was so fragrant, with excellent richness and divine aromatic sweetness. Wow! The palate was also great, its fruit clean and natural to the core. It was similar to the nose with dominating black cherry and stem flavors, along with choice earth and great tannin expression. Traces of cinnamon sprinkled over its ‘high-toned fruit’ (Mark). Man, was that nose damn good (96).

While the 2006 set a high bar rather quickly on this Sunday afternoon, the 2005 La Tache set one even higher. While it was more reserved than the ’06 at this stage, its depth in its nose was undeniable. It had aromas of earth that sparkled with diamonds, rust without the decay, and black as midnight fruit. The palate was incredibly concentrated. It was rich, beefy and stemmy, possessing so much fruit yet still coiled and deadly. Its t ‘n a squeezed my tongue like a python, and blood emerged in its bloody good nose. So fine, so rich, so long, I think profound summed it up best (98).

As if there could be another wine that could stand up to the first two in this flight, oh, that’s right, we had yet to sample the 1999 La Tache. There was more elegance here but still meat on dem der bones. There were also more vitamins and cola, but some expressive black cherry as well. The palate was rich, long, elegant but fat, also showing more cola. While reserved and more backhand than forehand, the ’99 was still a winner all the way. It got more aromatic in the glass as its crushed qualities became more fragrant. Jim also noted that fact, saying that ‘the ’99 has lost its initial baby fat but is gaining in harmony,’ also finding it the most enjoyable of the three right now. Gil found the 1999 ‘woodsy, like a lukewarm sauna,’ as well as ‘crushed nutshells and cranberry red fruit,’ although he did find the ’99 closed as well. Manny called this flight one of ‘three superstars’ (97).

We traveled back in time rather quickly with our last Richebourg pairing for the weekend. The 1976 Richebourg was noticeably mature with warm aromas of menthol, olive, game and ‘caramel’ per Bipin. There were also secondary aromas of garden and sweet bouillon. Its beefy, dirty flavors were browned and autumnal, with more bouillon emerging. While it only lasted about thirty minutes in the glass, it had a fleshy character and an open, spicy citricity. Someone keenly remarked how ‘sometimes it is nice to have wines where you don’t have to say it will get better’ (93).

The 1976 La Tache was nutty and gamy, less pungent but with similar qualities to the Richebourg. There was more style, more elegance and more reserve here, but it was still autumnal in its personality. It was thicker and longer than the Richebourg. Both had a lot of ‘toffee’ per Bipin, and Paul chipped in how ‘both are drinking beautifully right now’ (94).

There were two wines to go in this magical weekend, and one of them was a magnum of 1972 La Tache. The ’72 had a sexy nose with just a hint of that ’72 tomato. There was also sweet cherry, meat, oil, citrus, Worcestershire and chocolate. The palate was dirty even though its acidity was excellent. There were Korean barbecue flavors, a lighter mid-palate and dry tannins. The ’72, even though it was served from magnum, quickly headed south for the summer (92M).

The closer for the weekend was a fitting choice, the 1971 La Tache. This wine has always been one of my all-time favorites, and it is probably the greatest wine that I have had on the most occasions, ie more than any other of the all-time greats. Bipin also shared how it was his frist great Burgundy, and that the first time this wine was even brought into California was by him! I knew there was a reason I liked it so much :). The nose creamed citrus, olives, meat, oil and spice. Admittedly, this bottle was a bit more autumnal than some of the best bottles that I have had, but the palate had great citricity and flavors of bouillon in its long and fleshy profile. There was pitch and class here, and the acidity still snapped, crackled and popped (97).

It was a great weekend, and another testament to the greatness of Domaine de la Romanee Conti, another chapter in the endless story of the greatest producer of wine on Earth.

I interrupt my recent trip to Hong Kong for an article I started writing before I left, one that I finally finished on my way back. I still do have one article left from HK in order to wrap things up for Book 2, Chapter 4 of Hong Kong Diaries, 2009. I will try to get to that one soon, famous last words, I know.

Before I get started, I have to make a correction relative to a previous article recently written. I had mentioned the Roumier and Ponnelle connection, and that Georges Roumier had at some time made the wines for Ponnelle in the 40s or 50s. I was corrected by a close friend of Christophe Roumier’s who told me that Georges never made the wines for Ponnelle, and that they were made by Christophe’s other grandfather as his mother is a Ponnelle.

I also have to give a little grief to the Big Ticket for hosting a great 1998 Bordeaux tasting on the same night as my Roaring Twenties dinner, and only giving everyone like three day’s notice. I would have loved to be there, big guy. I think he said the Chateau Camensac was wine of the night lol.

Ok, now to our featured program, the Wine Workshop’s recent dinner at CRU, featuring a baker’s dozen of Bordeaux from the 1920s. The food was incredible as always. As fate would have it, there were a few more wines to be had, but we’ll get to that later. When it comes to claret and the 20th century, the ‘20s can certainly lay claim to ‘top decade’”¦as could the 40s, 50s, 80s and honorable mention to the 90s, but let’s get back to the 20s.

The first flight was a pair of wines from a vintage I don’t think I have ever sampled, 1920. When planning this event, I was surprised to find out this was a highly-regarded vintage, one known for its acidity. You just never see wines from this vintage, and the two that we sourced were kind of random, the first being a 1920 Chateau Cantemerle. The nose was great, and the wine was still fresh. Cedar, horseradish, tangy citrus and dust bowls swirled around its nose. Its nose’s greatness was seconded by many, and a kiss of woodsy rainbow rounded out the aromas. The palate was round and soft, with nice citrus and wood flavors. ‘Still hangin’ on after all these years,’ I wrote. Someone observed ‘rose garden.’ DC Don then gushed, ‘this is like having sex with a 90 year-old,’ to which I replied, ‘I’ll take your word on that’ (90).

A 1920 Baret was muddier in color, but still solid. Curious George noted ‘VA on the nose,’ meaning volatile acidity. George is definitely curious, as his love for wine takes him anywhere, anyplace he can, and he would rather try something new like these pair of 20s than things he has had two dozen times. Those who need a further clue about George think Bacchus plus Commanderie plus one of the great collections in America. Back to the, um, what’s it called, right, the Baret. Ed noted ‘vegemite,’ and there was a kiss of oxidation, but the wine wasn’t oxidized; it was the VA that George observed. The nose was open, musky and gamy, and it tasted fresh due to the high acidity. There were nice lemony flavors with pleasant dust and spice. George called the pair ‘amazing for two unclassified wines.’ Holly noted ‘morels, when you hang them up to dry for a while.’ The Cantemerle was definitely the favorite of the group, but the Baret was still solid and enjoyable (88).

The 1921 Ducru Beaucaillou had this earthy, natural gas kick, almost like popcorn. George noted, ‘aluminum shavings and green olives.’ It was very toasty with a mellow palate, soft and easy, with a mercury-like flavor on the finish, along the lines of the aluminum to which George was referring. It mellowed with air and wasn’t as toasty in time. There were smooth, green olive flavors with kisses of horseradish and citrus, and then it got this great grilled endive quality (91).

The 1924 Beychevelle was unfortunately corked, but its texture was the best of the first four. The flavors behind the corked quality were great; its fruit was deeper with nice cassis and flesh, as well as great balance (93A).

We kept progressing in time, stopping two years later with a 1926 La Mission Haut Brion. Its nose was port city, like claret meets port. Ed noted ‘celery salt,’ and someone else noted ‘vegetable juice.’ It had aromas of earth, mushroom and truffle oil. The palate was round, soft and supple with a lemony squirt and beefy flavors, flirting with bouillon. The La Miss opened and gained with time, and while a couple wrote it off immediately due to its porty nature, I found it to be excellent (93).

We had a couple of backup bottles on hand, just in case, so I felt like breaking one out to make up for the corked Beychevelle in the second flight. I can’t help myself when it comes to extra unopened bottles lying around, you know. We happened to have a 1924, too, a 1924 Sarget de Gruaud Larose. This was the second label of Gruaud, but it showed like the first. The label was scratched out and illegible, so maybe it was the Gruaud, after all. It came from the Graham Lyons cellar, and the neck tag insisted Sarget, so we will trust his impeccable records. Holly noted ‘nice structure,’ and the Curious one ‘pure definition.’ It had a classic nose full of cedar, cassis, leather and dust, and its palate was classic as well. Its palate was smooth, so elegant and refined, but it still had vim and zip, buttressed by cedar flavors. The Sarget was very stylish, like Brooke Astor with the memory (93).

The 1928 Brane Cantenac was our first reconditioned bottle of the evening, but still had a complex nose with hints of anise, cassis and nut, an almond with the skin thing. Someone noted, ‘diaper.’ It was a touch metallic in the mouth at first, with some dirty water flavors, but it still came across fresh. The nose opened to the pruney side, like raisins soaking in a jar. The palate stayed (91).

The 1928 Cos d’Estournel had a dirty nose with a touch of vegetable at first. Then it blossomed into a nice peanut character with hints of wax. Its flavors were the best of the night so far; great and classic in every way. Nut, interior, stone wall, caramel, ‘quince and persimmon’ (had to be George) were all there, and someone found it ‘fleshy like a marbled steak.’ This is what one expects out of a ’28; rich, balanced and long, it had all the components. This was one situation where ‘fat’ and ‘gains weight’ were compliments for this lingering and superb Cos (95).

Someone found the 1928 Montrose to ‘smell like Venice.’ It was earthy and full of hay, but also perfumed, reticent compared to the others. DC Don noted, ‘fonde duc, those Moroccan courtyards where they have the tanneries and hash.’ That must have been where he met that 90 year-old lol. Mike noted ‘cigar box,’ and its structure came out more with time, as did its fruit, revealing nice red cherry flavors along with great dust and length. The minerally, edgy finish had definition and true grit to it, but this was not the best bottle of this wine that I have ever had. It did continue to grow on me, however (94+).

When comparing the two St. Estephes, Holly noted that the Montrose spilled off the side of your tongue while the Cos was more upfront with its spicy and fleshy character.

The 1928 Clos Fourtet was also reconditioned, and it had forward red fruit oil aromas along with band-aids, chocolate and earth. The palate was rich and lush, hearty and with lots of acid; the motor was definitely ‘souped up.’ Someone else noted the new motor thing happening, and added ‘with the grease seepin’ out.’ Flavors of wintergreen and nice earth were present on its finish, and the sweetness in its nose became more concentrated. This was long and sexy juice, a good job on the con, I mean recon 🙂 (93).

A rare 1928 L’Evangile had everyone serious for a Seoul second. George noted ‘liquid chocolate’ right away. This was forward, sexy stuff, super sticky, gamy, edgy and oily. The palate was rich and gamy with this rusty edge that somehow lacked rust. I noted tangy taffy flavors, Hilt did ‘brown sugar and peach cobblers,’ and the Scruffy Neurologist added ‘cinnamon butter toast.’ There was a lot going on, and a lot of sweet, complex fruit in this Evangile. Rich, long and leathery, I liked its vim but found it ultimately short of outstanding (94).

The 1928 Cheval Blanc was my favorite nose of the evening by far. Mike noted, ‘burnt rubber,’ while George ‘roasted coffee.’ George pulled the Jedi Wine trick as everyone was repeating roasted coffee almost immediately. He is a jedi, of course, so that makes that ok. The Cheval was rich and delicious with nutty and caramel flavors that lasted longly, longingly and longestly. Holly hailed it as ‘NAMMERS,’ aka indescribably delicious. It’s a down south thing, I think. George had ‘melted silk’ in his mouth, and those were not panties, I swear. He continued how the Cheval ‘clinged to all the nooks and crannies in your mouth.’ Bill hailed it as ‘a warm embrace, not a taste but a feeling.’ I gently asked him to take his head off my shoulders, and quickly moved on to find great definition; it was so long and so balanced, yet light on its feet, but rich in its flavors and still endless on its finish. George officially felt encouraged after such a special bottle (97).

A pair of ‘29s marked the last flight, beginning with the 1929 La Lagune, a bottle that was reconditioned in November of 2008. ‘Minty’ and ‘strawberry’ came from the crowd. It was a little horsey, a little gamy and a little zippy. There was a little candy store in this rich wine. There was this exotic, woodsy edge, almost like gingerbread meets teriyaki. The wine was very good, but it was a bit ‘clinical,’ as one put it, a la hospital, a function of its doctored nature, of course (92).

The last wine of our official program was a glorious bottle of 1929 Margaux, a bottle that would leave us thankful for curiosity, and continue to condition us to love those things original. David observed ‘French polish’ of antique furniture in the nose, and it was there along with mint, caraway, julep and wild field full of dandelion. The wine was incredibly sensual, caressing in its personality and fresh in its nature. George commented, ‘so Margaux, with its hint of violets.’ It was lush with great, tender fruit, and a tea-like complexity developed. It was only fitting that the one bottle from George’s cellar rounded out the night in fine fashion (95).

But the night was not over yet”¦

Upstairs, Big Mike had gathered with a small group of friends and family celebrating his run for governor in 2010. Either that, or he got a new puppy, I can’t remember exactly, but it was cause for celebration, and Big Boy, Airplane Eddie, Neal Diamonds, Sir Robert Bohr and others were present already, and I slipped upstairs with a bottle of 1928 Pichon Lalande, my extra backup bottle even though there was no need for it downstairs. I passed out Pichon with political fervor, making sure everyone I knew got a taste and then some. The Pichon was in a perfect spot, beautiful and graceful, timeless yet coming into its time both at once. Elegance and style married like its cassis and pencil, and its tender, sweet finish left me yearning for more (95).

Dueling jeros were next; jeros of 1971 Grands Echezeaux and 1971 Richebourg. Like whoaaaaa. They were both fantastic bottles, and on this night, I gave the slightest of edges to the Grands Echezeaux, and Air Jordan, the Duchess of Bohr, agreed with me. They both were long and rich; both full of tar, rose and leather; both menthol on skates”¦but the Grands Ech had more power and stuffing. Obviously, this is not a universal occurrence when these two are served together, especially jeros, which probably have been served together maybe once, twice, three times a lady in the course of history? Who knows, could it have been the first time ever? History check, please. Airplane Eddie found the Richebourg ‘cleaner.’ I found it (95J)>/b> and the Grands Ech (96J).

There were two magnums of 1999 Roulot Meursault Perrieres served, and I got to try from both. The first was decanted two hours prior and was quite clean with yellow fruits and light toast (93M), while the second one, opened much more recently, had more character. It was richer, larger and a butter bomb in that elegant Burgundy way. I guess time doesn’t always do a white Burgundy good (94M).

A jero of 1988 Bollinger RD was very good; lemony, bready, yeasty, zesty, zippy and clean, it was nice but a touch simple as RD’s can be (92J).

There was some Giacosa wine served at the end, and it was outstanding stuff, but I didn’t quite write down the right stuff enough. I will dig further, and save those notes for when I can identify the Unidentifiable Giacosa Object. For now, it goes into the bucket with the hundreds of other nights, the ‘never got written’ bin, the ‘put me in coach’ basin, the ‘if only writing this stuff created income’ box lol.

The great thing about Bordeaux is its age-ability and the fact that it is about the only thing left from the ‘20s that can still roar. This night was a true testament to the ‘tough as nails’ x-factor that makes Bordeaux so great, and cheers to Big Mike for providing the hammer to close out this magical evening in the finest of fashions.