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.

Greetings from Hong Kong. I have been here already for two nights, and it has been non-stop upon my arrival. I still haven’t quite learned how to overcome my jet lag that quickly, but the energy of HK is about as good a remedy as one can find. The city is buzzing and alive, and I can feel the wine power! We are expecting close to 300 people yet again this Saturday for the auction, and I am excited for another active day on the sales floor. But first, we drink. The passion for wine here is second to none, and I started with an intimate dinner Tuesday night hosted by my friend Peter. Everything comes down to mathematics, and the equation for this past Tuesday was four wines, nine bottles, nine people and eleven courses. There were multiple bottles (and one magnum) of each wine, as quantity is as important as quality for many here. The meal was a very traditional Chinese one, and a special one, so I will make some rare food notes here as well at the end.

We started with three bottles of 1996 Krug and many toasts. The Krug was outstanding as usual, more balanced and fat than some recent memories. There was great toast to it and a creamy, uplifting personality. Extremely complex, the 1996 Krug is one to bank on for the next century (96).

A magnum of 2001 Louis Latour Corton Charlemagne was excellent, buttery and smoky with its aromas, smooth and sexy in its personality. Rich, lush yet tender, the palate had medium-weight and nice butter and waterfall flavors. Its finish was round and sensual, and it was quite enjoyable (93M).

There were two bottles of 1982 La Mission Haut Brion, and they were both classic. The first thing I noticed was the minerality and musk on top of its pungent core of claret. It had great smoke, smokehouse and even a little barbecue to it, with strong cassis elements underneath. The palate was full of iron and band-aid flavors, wrapped around a great plum core. The acidity was superb, so long and fine, zipping and zapping its way down my hatch. It had that great Graves flavor, that smoke and gravel, and these were perfect bottles, with the structure of the vintage coming first, but the fruit still packed in there. Vincent admired its balance. Both bottles were still very young (97).

There were three bottles of 1989 Lafleur, and I took notes bottle by bottle for academic purposes, of course. The 1989 remains one of my favorite Lafleurs”¦ever. These were no exception. The first bottle was wound and classic, with someone noting ‘raspberry cheesecake.’ There was some iron green goodness here, but it was a bit closed. The second bottle was more expressive, with still black as night fruit, forest, minerals, tannins, alcohol and long acid. It was big and brawny but agile on its finish, tea-like with its tannins and true grit personified. Flavors of plum, black fruits, spice and forest lingered on this fine, long wine. The third bottle was the most impressive, possessing the most power. These all came from the same case, mind you. It was almost a mix of the first two, but its tannins and alcohol were monumental. ‘Rich, rich, lush, lush”¦wow’ summed it up. My ratings varied from 95+, 96 to 98 points in that order, with the third bottle being the 98 (95-98).

A bit about the food, which was one of my most memorable meals in Hong Kong so far. We started with boneless barbecued pork, which is about as addictive as meat can get. I could have eaten a bucket of it! So delicious! The next course was my first Conch, and I was advised to eat it quickly while it is warm, before it gets too rubbery. Conch is very rare and difficult to come by, and it was an experience. The third course was a massive prawn, one of the best I have ever had, crunchy and meaty, just perfect. We were onto my first fried shark fin, another first for me, fried with some vegetables and/or noodles and another absolutely addictive dish. The abalone was another first for me, and not really my cup of tea, made with a brown, gravy-like sauce that would also have gone well with beef. Apparently people risk their lives to get the abalone, so I tried it 🙂 The truffle consomme that followed was out of this world good. That is what I want for lunch all winter. A steamed yellow grouper was about as fresh as fish can be, and then the Chinese monk’s duck made with eight different accompaniments had me converting. By now, I was starting to sink into my chair, and after the crispy egg noodle with shredded chicken and sautéed rice noodle with shredded beef, I had to raise the flag. That beef dish was another one I could just eat day after day and never get bored of. Unbelievably great! We ended with the Ching Dynasty Imperial soup, a rare dessert for me, but this was one meal where I would not let a course pass me by. This was a special meal, and the quality of the food was certainly a match for the wines.

Wednesday night would be one devoted to Musigny; there is Burgundy alive and well in Hong Kong, too! That news will be fit to print tomorrow.

My second night in Hong Kong was devoted to Musigny, thanks to an anonymous and most generous benefactor. Yes, Burgundy is alive and well in Hong Kong, and I couldn’t think of a better terroir to prove that point. We started with a Champagne and a white before getting into the main event, the Champagne being a 1982 Salon. The Salon had a yeasty nose that was big, rich and bready. It was very fragrant, tangy yet complex. The palate was oily and meaty, almost beefy, big and citrusy with outstanding acidity. Tangy, zippy and gamy, the ’82 was rich and tasty with vanilla cream flavors. At the end of the night, the Salon was still strong, losing its bubbles but becoming decadently delicious and still great (95).

The 2004 Raveneau Chablis Montee de Tonnerre was very open, with a minty and anise-y centerpoint, while Kris observed ‘white lychee and pear.’ Round, minty and delicious, the palate had a nice, feminine side to its acidity. Someone noted ‘sweet and sour apple,’ and another its ‘fresh, good structure.’ Premier Cru Chablis’ are great values ”“ oops, put that cat back in the bag (93).

On to the Moose”¦we started with a flight of ‘young’ wines, its starting point being a pair of 1993s. A 1993 Drouhin Musigny was one of the best bottles of this I have had. I looked up two prior bottles and found that I rated them each 92 points, but this one was significantly better. Yeast was the first thing I noticed, but it quickly blew off into the classic underbrush of 1993. Black fruits, a great nut glaze and excellent sun-baked earth rounded out the nose. Richard admired ‘that ’93 tautness,’ and it was really driven by its mineral and earth qualities. It opened wonderfully and became more exotic with a stir-fried sweetness and actual fruit, holding its acidity for the entire evening. It all comes down to the bottle (94+).

The 1993 Jadot Musigny had more hay in the nose and a bit of stinky barn and green pepper. There were also band-aids there, and good ‘catbox.’ The Jadot had a lot of power, noticeably so after the Drouhin. Some baked bread came out as well as gamy, black flavors and a lot of t ‘n a. Hendra also observed ‘more power,’ and Kris liked its ‘fleshy side of Musigny.’ It had a long, earthy finish, and the tannins and acid of the vintage showed their stuff there, coming out even more in the belly. There was more wood here, integrated yet big, as well as more animal (93).

At first, Richard and I were admiring the 1990 Vogue Musigny Vieilles Vignes and how it was one of the better bottles of this that we had both had. Hendra remarked how it was ‘always this way,’ but this bottle was not stewed or woodsy as others can be. It was zippy with Worcestershire aromas, a bit of celery salt and excellent t ‘n a. It had the best finish of the flight, and its acidity was noteworthy. It squared up a bit in the glass, however, and got more cedary, and the second impression was less than the first. Richard agreed. Its structure was still excellent, but this wine might continue to be a perplexing one for a while (93+).

The second flight began with a rare 1989 Mugnier Musigny Vieilles Vignes. It had a minty nose, very forward with its wild fruits, olives and forest aromas. The palate was rich and its acidity long, with that gamy ’89, rich, ripe style. Tasty and balanced, there were significant earth and iron flavors to go with some autumnal and forest floor ones. Kris said it ‘sparkled,’ and it was fresh on its feet, dancing in the mouth. It didn’t get any better in the glass, but it was on a couple of people’s ‘top three’ wines for the night (94).

The next wine was one of my two wines of the night, a 1988 Roumier Musigny. Richard noted ‘a little more substance and linearity.’ Its nose was deep personified, or winified, I suppose. There was great perfume and breed to its sexy and unraveling nose. There was cedar, forest and a pinch of menthol. Its flavors were also deep, just singing, rippling with minerals and acidity on its thick finish. There was actually fruit here for this ’88, which is not often the case in this tannic vintage, and there was enough fruit to stand up to the tannins. Red fruits emerged, and its woodsy complexity was just right, creeping in with time (96).

The 1985 Drouhin Musigny was again a better bottle than the last time I had this wine just three months ago. What’s up with Drouhin showing better in Hong Kong? Maybe it likes the humidity here. It was the most open of this flight, in ’85 fashion, sweet and gamy and full of Pinot fruit. Caramel kisses and damp earth rounded out its nutty nose. Paul agreed this was a better bottle than the one he had recently as well; in fact, I think it was the same bottle we shared in New York, or same batch. This bottle was in a perfect spot and still ascending (95).

We then took it way back in time with an outstanding 1952 Bichot Musigny. At first, it was a bit gassy in the nose, with a touch of toilet in there, but it opened quickly into wheat, grass and herbs. The palate was delicious and way ahead of the nose with its nutty, oily texture. It was also rich and chocolaty, possibly a bit adulterated but so good, who cares? There was this vanilla ice cream deliciousness, and one said he heard rumors that Bichot bought their Musigny from Vogue during this period. It kept flirting so much with outstanding, I finally gave it to it (95).

A 1952 Remoissenet Musigny had green fruit in a fresh way and a nutty nose. The palate was more milky with some red fruit there, and a sweet flash in a tree bark, cedar and herbal direction. It was simpler but still good (90).

Unfortunately, the last wine in this flight was an oxidized 1952 Vogue Musigny Vieilles Vignes (DQ).

The next pair more than made up for it, beginning with a 1949 C. Marey et Liger-Belair Musigny. It was many people’s wine of the night. Richard crowned it ‘amazing’ right away, and its nose was indubitably great, pungent and with aromas of olives, citrus, rich black and red fruits, cola and cream soda. The palate seemed rich for ’49 but was still elegant on its finish. There were great flavors of sweet plum and purple. There was more posture and style versus the ’47 that would follow, and it got more mentholated in the glass (96).

The 1947 C. Marey et Liger-Belair Musigny was ‘porty’ to one and ‘very sweet’ to another. It was definitely keeping with the hot style of 1947 with its sweetness, as 1947 was one of the hottest years ever on record in the 20th century in Burgundy, I believe. The nose was again great, full of sweet cream and touches of earth and citrus. The palate was lush and earthy, still zippy, concentrated with sweet purple flavors and great spice. It was so sweet that it seemed almost chapitalized, a bit negociant in personality. I am not sure if these were negociant bottles or not. While the ’49 was more demure and distinguished, one couldn’t help but like the ’47 and its skinny dipping personality (94).

It was a grand finale to a monumental evening of Musigny. The Roumier and ’49 Liger-Belair were on the top of most people’s lists, but the Bichot definitely got a lot of consideration, too. There were a few honorable mentions for the Mugnier and ’85 Drouhin as well.

It is good to see Burgundy alive and well in Hong Kong. Thursday night would be our first BYO dinner in HK, and I would have 35 notes before all was said and through, including many Burgundies, although Bordeaux did dominate the landscape provided by the 60 guests. About nine of the wines took me two hours to enjoy, and then the rest in a blitz at the end. Stay tuned!

Last night saw sixty of Hong Kong’s finest collectors gather in a celebration of fine and rare wines, BYO style. This was a first for most of the guests and a new concept; one could tell that everyone wasn’t really sure what to expect at first, but once everyone settled in and got some ground rules, a great time and some great wines were had by all.

The rules for a good BYO are simple: 1) get a list of what everyone is bringing in advance; 2) seat everyone together based on said wines; 3) encourage everyone to pour out half of their bottle at their table and then trade with other tables the rest of the bottle; 4) remind everyone not to grab other people’s bottles without asking 🙂

I found myself surrounded by some of the world’s greatest wines early on, and made sure I got to know them before sampling some of the rest of the room’s selections. I also made sure to make my rounds of giving before I made my rounds of receiving, always a good BYO host rule of thumb.

The night got off to a great start with a 1986 Montrachet. What was even more special is that it came from a parcel of ten cases purchased twenty years ago! About five are left. Taiwan was in the house, and many thanks to my good friend for his generosity, and everyone’s for that matter. The nose was fabulous in an ’86 way ”“ sweet and buttery with lots of wild corn and clear botrytis. There was a little waterfall edge and a touch of benevolent alley. Its flavors were similar, adding some light cement and a bit of butter that has been out on a hot summer day all afternoon. Kisses of caramel rounded out the flavor profile along with game and candle wax, and the acidity was superb and the best ’86 impression that I have had in a while. It is always a good thing to have those unmoved, purchased upon release bottles (95).

The only other white at my table was a 1992 Ramonet Batard Montrachet. While 1992 is a vintage that is starting to pass its prime for many white Burgundies, this Ramonet was still far from maturity. I don’t know what he did in 1992 that makes his wines stand out so much from the rest of the pack (with Leflaive right behind it), but the acidity in the 1992 Batard was mind-blowing. It was as fresh as fresh can be, taut, minerally and zippy with incredible white fruit flavors and an endless finish. Smoke and minerals were everywhere; this was a fiery wine that could burn down any wine lover’s palate (95+).

A rare 1961 Latour Haut Brion was excellent, full of gravel, smoke, slate and dirt, slowly revealing a bit of a BBQ edge. There was lots of cement to the palate, and black fruits emerged in time. Samantha noted ‘hickory,’ and someone else ‘high acidity.’ There were still lots of tannins and life left in this ’61 (93).

That red was a warm-up, as we got very serious, very quickly, beginning with the 1989 Petrus. A 1990 would follow, as would a 1990 Le Pin. Now that’s a flight! The ’89 was spectacular and the wine of the night. It had a big, bold nose with lots of t ‘n a, chocolate, earth and black and purple fruits. It was so thick yet so fine. The palate was insanely good, so chocolaty and thick, absolutely delicious. Hendra also commented, ‘more chocolaty and hot.’ This is a staggering wine and a great time to be buying it since the price has practically dropped in half over the past year (99).

I know that the 1989 versus 1990 Petrus is supposed to be a great debate, but to be honest, it isn’t even close. The 1990 Petrus was still an outstanding wine, but the ’89 has just clearly distanced itself from the ’90. The ’90 was minty with a fleshier nose, possessing more red fruits and green olives. It was a bit milkshaky, with secondary aromas of grain and bran. Its flavors were more yeasty, and the palate was still long and elegant, but it left a little sister impression after the 1989 (95).

The 1990 Le Pin was very fragrant in an aggressive way. Aromas of green bean combined with wild, exotic tropical fruits into a unique and ‘sexy’ style. The palate was very shut down at the moment for me, and although it rounded out, it left me with a mellow, soft, tender and easy impression, which was not the case the last time I had this wine late last year, when I rated it 96 points. This bottle needed more time, and will surely get better (94+).

The 1982 Lafleur had a rich, creamy and sexy nose in that kinky Lafleur way. Aromas of coconut, green olives and a rainbow of black, purple and red fruits rounded out the nose, although there was more structure here than other memories that I have of this wine, which can often be super fleshy and wide open. This one still had a long way to go. Hendra hailed it as ‘all seasons ”“ any place, any time’ (97).

The last couple of bottles I had at my table were Burgundies, beginning with a 1999 Richebourg. 1999 plus always equals greatness. Aubert de Villaine and company really hit the bullseye in 1999. The Richebourg’s nose was fleshy, young and zippy, full of violets, lavender and minerals with the encrusted diamonds. The nose was super sexy, oily and ‘just like the 1990,’ per one who would know. The 1990 has a little more power at this stage I think, but the 1999 is even more seductive (97).

Last but not least before I ventured out into the room to receive was a 1990 Ponsot Clos de la Roche Vieilles Vignes. The Ponsot was a bit milky and yeasty at first, but it blew off into a powerful concoction of menthol, oil, black fruits and yeast without the milk. Its flavors were distinctively black; olives and fruits. It left a midnight impression, lingering on its long and thick finish, which was both slaty and edgy. Concentration was king for this 1990 (97).

The rest of the night was a bit of rapid fire, but all friendly fire thankfully. Forgive the lack of notes, but with a tasting in three hours and the seating for tomorrow’s auction still to be finished, I will have to defer my observations until the next article ”“ I will get to them, I promise! It will be a few paragraphs of recapping, as snapshots were really all that could be taken at this time. Look for a more detailed recap of the rest of the wines in my next article. For now, the scores”¦

The great thing about a BYO is the diversity of wines and the sheer spontaneity of it all. It was a great assortment of great wines, and most importantly, a great mix of people. I look forward to the next one!