Here’s wishing everyone a happy 4th of July with an article about”¦Beijing, or rather my recent trip to Beijing before our inaugural Hong Kong auction, interrupting my not-so-recent ‘Four in a Row’ series of articles. Better late than never, I know. But, in a way, I can’t help but notice the irony, and I can assure you it was strictly unintentional! Without getting into a social and economic paper about it, let’s just say that China has got the world’s attention with its blistering economy, not to mention all the profits it is making for foreign companies as well. Is it me, or do Americans seem to be getting fatter and lazier? Well, the Chinese are hungry, and they are coming, three or four for every American, too. It is clear to me that China is the world’s next superpower, and I hope America will continue to keep up. Work, people!

Where were we”¦Bipin’s auction was Wednesday night the 21st of May, and I was off to Hong Kong on the 22nd, meaning that I got there on the 23rd. Time flies when you head to the Far East. Before I could say ‘ni hao,’ I was off to Beijing that Saturday morning to attend the International Congress of Chinese Cuisine and Wine’s seminar, featuring sessions of Penfolds Grange and Chateau Margaux, led by Peter Gago and Paul Pontallier respectively. Robert Parker was actually in Beijing this very same weekend, but doing a different event.

It was my first trip to Beijing, and the first thing that I noticed upon descending into this great and emerging city was the haze that surrounds it. The pollution is definitely a problem, and one could argue that there is no sky once inside this bustling metropolis, where bicycles still seem to be as equally as popular as cars for transportation, undoubtedly a financial consideration for many. However, one could not help but feel the energy of the city, building away and growing rapidly by the minute, the anticipation and pride of the Olympics everywhere. Despite the overall ‘gray’ feel, and the shadows of deep-rooted Communism still lurking, one could still appreciate the change that has and will continue to take place, especially when discussing with those that had been there even ten years prior.

I was a bit discombobulated, and by the time we had gotten settled in, I had to crash for a power nap, one from which I could barely resuscitate. I stumbled downstairs to seven vintages of Grange, and although I thought I wasn’t going to be able to take notes, after a few sips and spits, I got into the zone for Australia’s first growth, which averages between 7,000-9,000 cases a year.

The first vintage of Grange was the 1977 Penfolds Grange, which was very oaky in the nose. 91% Shiraz, 9% Cab and eighteen months in 100% American new oak were the staples of this vintage, although Peter said about the Grange recipe that ‘nothing was pre-ordained, nothing formulized, but there is a template.’ This was a vintage that had blown me away about three or so years ago, only to disappoint me on the following occasions. This was again a bit disappointing given that one magical bottle I had with the Colonel in LA. Aromas of tea followed the oak, and it did sweeten out a bit to reveal dark black cherry fruit and eucalyptus. Overall, I found it a bit square and unforgiving, but I was still getting my sea legs back (90?).

The 1980 Penfolds Grange was 4% Cabernet and spent 19 months is 100% new oak. It was much more my speed of Grange, elegant and more Burgundian in style while still possessing that sweet, signature Aussie fruit. Horseradish (!) jumped from the nose, and Gil found it ‘herbal’ in a good way. Its sweet, musky nose signaled ‘home sweet home’ as far as Grange goes. There was nice roundness in the mouth, with excellent spice and better acidity than the 1977. It was just beautiful and in a great spot right now (94).

The trong>1982 Penfolds Grange (6% Cab, 19 months oak) Gil found to be ‘a fruitier nature, more the style of Grange.’ There were bright red fruits in the nose and more citricity, and still that eucalyptus glaze in a good way. Its flavors were round and spicy, with red fruits and confectioners’ notes with a leathery spank, and excellent acidity (95).

The 1990 Penfolds Grange was a strange fellow, causing Gil to question, ‘chemical?’ It was very shut down in the nose compared to the ’80 and 82, although matchstick and mint were slow to emerge, as well as a black cherry core. There was deeper concentration here in the ’90 if you had the patience to dig that deeply. More blackberry nuances emerged. It was much blacker in its fruit flavors, thick and with lots of citricity, a much beefier style of Grange. Down the road, this might emerge as the best of the bunch, but not for a while if ever (93+).

The 1994 Penfolds Grange (11% Cabernet, 18 months in oak) Gil kept cooing over. I got unusual but benevolent rubber tire and cola in the nose, along with more typical eucalyptus, menthol, black licorice and a mélange of cassis and black cherry. Peter felt the 1994 ‘calls out for food.’ It did have huge t ‘n a with a tidal wave of a finish and great minerality. Big, long and massive with port-like flavors, this ’94 left the 1990 in the dust as far as the matchup of the two heavyweight styles went (95+).

The 1999 Penfolds Grange was a rare 100% Shiraz and spent 17 months in oak. Gil observed, ‘classic eucalyptus and mintiness from the wood,’ jokingly calling it ‘koala food’ lol. I found the ’99 more medicinal, perhaps due to the lack of Cabernet, I wondered, along with a weird fruitiness to it, still very aromatic but a touch sickly. Its flavors were more classically in line, but still very youngand hot with spicy szechuan flavors (92).

The 2002 Penfolds Grange was the last on our list this afternoon, recently released and only 1.5% Cabernet, also spending 17 months in oak. Gil called out ‘mandarin rind.’ It was also red in style, full of cherry and dust. More complex than the 1999, it had sweet cola flavors along with lots of citricity and just a pinch of medicine. There was more regal breed and elegance in the ’02, and it was thick, rich and young (ahhh to be that”¦I suppose the thick part is a result of the rich and young lol). Gil admired its ‘great potential.’ It still retained elegance despite having enough stuffing to make up for a lot of other Australian turkeys (94+).

I think I crashed again after that, only to wake up for a midnight snack and then retire again. The next morning we were off to the Great Wall with Gil, Paul Pontallier and his wife amongst others. It was about a ninety-minute drive, and upon arriving to the Wall, at least the part we went to, there was a hill of shack shops selling t-shirts, hats, umbrellas, sandals, dried fruits, nuts, water etc. I needed a hat and some sandals, and fierce negotiations began. I nearly went under due to the competition for my business, as aggressive women waved things in my face, changing their prices by the minute. Thankfully Gil, who lived in Hong Kong for ten years, assumed negotiations for me and closed the deal. It was a bit overwhelming, even for a New York City slicker like me.

The Wall was magnificent, and a good workout to boot. It is an amazing testament to the will of man given the steep mountains upon which it was built, especially considering when it was built. The sky was able to emerge from the haze of Beijing more, but not completely, and what amazed me most was how much cooler it was inside the stone towers, even though it was 90+ degrees out. It had to be 20+ degrees cooler inside the towers, with open doors and windows (and no air-conditioning). Natural stone underground cellar, anyone?

After a healthy hike and return to Beijing, it was time to return to civilization and drink some Margaux, as civilzed gentlemen are prone to do. We started with an oh so fresh 2006 Pavillon Blanc du Margaux. I must confess I do love this wine, especially from the past few years. I am a closet Sauvignon Blanc fan, often grabbing one by the glass on more casual evenings out. Ok, make that two glasses. One cannot live off Montrachet alone lol. The 2006 jumped from the glass with aromas of grapefruit, grass and sweet melon, penetrating my nose deeply with its minerality and rind edges. There was a pinch of ‘Equal’ to its sweetness, ie a hint of synthetic sugar. I was stunned to find out this was 15.1% alcohol! Gil noted, ‘great power but awesome balance.’ The palate was rich and concentrated, its alcohol more noticeable yet still reined in. Delicious flavors of mineral, straw, honey and grapefruit were present, ‘in a non New Zealand sort of way,’ Gil added, also finding ‘wet limestone.’ It was hailed as ‘one of the best Pavillon Blancs ever,’ and even after having all the reds, this wicked white still held in the glass, mellowing into decadently good gooseberry flavors (93).

Cardboard was the first thing that I noticed in the nose of the 2004 Pavillon Rouge du Margaux, in the best way possible and not in a corked way, I should add. Coffee, roasted nut and cassis were all secondary, with pinches of earth blending into the coffee. Tertiary aromas of cedar and fir spice emerged in this round and tender wine. The palate was earthy with that gout de terroir, possessing candle wax flavors and a very dry finish, typical of the vintage. I remembered this wine being more impressive at the winery, but then again doesn’t it always taste better there? Gil insisted that the white was so good, it knocked down the ’04 a notch or two (88?).

The 1996 Pavillon Rouge du Margaux I enjoyed thoroughly. It was much rounder and fitting in its clothes, so to speak. Gil noted, ‘high-pitched cherry,’ almost reminding him of a young Nebbiolo. Perfumed and sweet, there were hints of fir, cedar and spice. It was much richer in the mouth than the ’04, and its acidity was still special, typical of 1996. Coffee was the first flavor I noticed, followed by more bean, both coffee and green. Round, rich and tasty, this ’96 was in a great spot with its classic flavors in harmony. A hint of raisin crept in with air (91).

A quintet of Margaux itself followed, beginning with the 2004. The 2004 Margaux had ‘berry cobbler,’ per Gil, and he hit it on the head again, as usual, twirling his hammer and popping it back in his holster. Sweet, crumbly, nutty and crusty, I couldn’t get past the berry cobbler thing ”“ that summed it up 100%. The richness of the wine was a different league than the Pavillons. A quadrafecta of rich, concentrated coffee, earth, cassis and nut flavors paid off big-time. Long and regal, this was excellent stuff. Paul admired, ‘the scent of Margaux, subtle and extremely refined”¦combines power and subtlety so harmoniously”¦soft power.’ The nose became more decadent, with coffee and chocolate emerging (94).

The 2001 Margaux had a leaner style about it, with a bit of stink to it, pungent in a cleaning substance way, along with some cinnamon air freshener. I have been enjoying the 2001 vintage, one that certainly delivers, especially given their prices. In addition, some of the Right Bank wines may prove to be more legendary than people think. Back to the ’01, there were also aromas of weed, chocolate, nut and cassis underneath, and it got more and more foresty in the glass, including the floor with some animal leftovers. Its pungency carried over to the palate, where its acidity really stood out, almost too much so with its heat. Flavors of carob, earth and smoked cedar were dominant. Paul conceded that the ‘vintage was not great but still very good,’ admitting that they ‘lost concentration because of harvest rain.’ Gil added that it opened up to ‘caramel and butterscotch aromas,’ which it did (93).

The 1999 Margaux was ‘leaner and not at the level of the previous two,’ per Gil, and I couldn’t disagree. It was more along the lines of ’01 than ’04, if I had to say, with that lean and pungent side where the acidity and ‘cleaner’ came out first. Nut, smoke, smokehouse, tree bark, flint and fireplace joined the aroma party. There were cedary and spicy flavors, but they were thinner and not as long as the others; this was the leanest of the three. There were still good black fruit flavors, and Paul said that the ’99 ‘ has always been one of my favorite vintages to drink and has been good to drink from the day it was born,’ admiring how it just ‘melts in the mouth’ (91).

The 1995 Margaux was impressive. Gil noticed ‘grilled Gruyere cheese and green bean puree.’ I got the Gruyere, but not the green beans, as cinnamon jumped out at me first. Gil also admired its ‘chalky, dusty’ personality, also finding it ‘tight.’ After cinnamon, chocolate took over, and then sawdust took over from there. The palate was spicy and very gritty with lots of minerals. The thickness of its tannins was clearly in another league than anything prior. It was also rusty like 1995s can be, cedary and edgy yet lean and cut like an Olympic athlete. It was very dry and long, and this might get even better in the future. As Paul eloquently summed it up, ‘the finish is like an unfinished story, a great work in progress’ (96+).

Lastly, we had the ‘lucky’ 1988 Margaux, which had a benevolently cheesy nose, with some cinnamon stick on the side. There was nice spice, and it mellowed into a morning cereal sweetness, with carob and cinnamon returning. The ’88 still had good intensity, and it had rust and spice and was even a bit too austere for Gil. It was definitely a whips and chains wine, more intense than most memories I have of ’88 clarets. ‘Old furniture varnish’ rounded out its finish with a touch of cedar (92).

Paul summed up Margaux aptly as ‘charm before strength, like a great woman.’

It was off the airport and back to Hong Kong. It was to be a busy week.

The second night of my recent four in a row found me at Veritas, home to one of the world’s greatest wine lists. It was a casual night and late start, so we only had three bottles between the four of us, most notably Jay, who had insisted we get together to research an article he was writing. I need to have these three wine nights. more often, as it makes for easier write-ups, even though it has taken me more than a week just to find the time to write this one up!

We started with a 1996 Joseph Drouhin Marquis de Laguiche, which performed in fine fashion. Despite a lot of opinion out there that there is a significant amount of prematurely oxidized white Burgundies in the market from about 1995 onwards, with a lot of different hypotheses why, I have to say that I have been fairly lucky in my drinking them over the past few years, although I do not drink as many whites as often as those more opinionated than I. I do know that the problem exists, more so with a combination of certain producers and certain vintages, but this bottle had no issues for sure. The Drouhin was spectacular, delivering everything it should have and then some. Smoky aromas of butter, corn and minerals graced its forward yet coiled nose, and the breed of Montrachet rippled through every inch of its core. One could easily lose one’s nose for minutes in its aromatics, its firm nose anchored by the great acidity of the 1996 vintage. The palate was delicious, still youthful but also seemingly in a great spot, still showing the vigor of youth along with hints of mature nuances, particularly in the smokiness and sweetness of its fruit flavors. It was lip-smackingly good (95+).

The second wine we plucked from the list was a 1998 J.F. Mugnier Musigny, one of the wines of this often overlooked vintage, as I hadn.t had it in a bit and was curious to check it out again. Its nose was reticent and full of breed, chunky in its personality, especially so given the vintage’s usual leaner characteristics, and I say that in the fondest way possible, as I like 98s and their lean, leathery personalities. The Mugnier, however, transcends the vintage, as it literally drips with fruit. Its nose unwound to reveal a deep core of dark fruits, leather, musk and that Musigny terroir. Light spice danced around its edges and came out more and more with time, flirting with cinnamon stick. Thick and dense in the mouth, the 98 was as concentrated a young Musigny as I can remember tasting, completely natural and without the steroids but still as strong as any other. Its long finish reminded me that this was still Musigny, as its elegance regained control each time the wine went gently and lingering-ly down the hatch. Still an infant, this wine will easily last thirty years and then some (96).

We had just enough thirst left for one more wine, and after a couple of young bucks, it was time to move into more familiar territory old. A 1971 Roumier Morey St. Denis Clos de la Bussiere was reasonably priced on the list, and 1971 Burgs are a few of my favorite things, so we decided to give it a try, and were we glad we did. The wine’s aromatics jumped from the glass, possessing both the greatness of Roumier and the 1971 vintage. Autumnal aromas were inviting like football season, and meat dripped from its bones like parking lot cookouts. It had great citrus and wilted rose aromas to balance out its game and meat qualities, and its earth components were bordering on grand cru quality. It also reminded me of fresh rain hitting earth in need of water, and it was still vimful despite being a 37 year-old Morey St. Denis. Its flavors were consistently good, autumnal yet fresh, full of citrus, rose, game, bouillon and earth flavors. It possessed a sweet, chewy core that would hit anyone’s wine spot.. The wine just kept on singing in the glass until there was no more left, something that happened sooner than expected, but it was just that good, one of those catnip. wines that make everyone drinking it frisky and happy to the last drop. It had all the bright citricity of 1971 yet was decidedly and decadently mature. It was a real eye-opener and another testament to the greatness of Roumier (95).

The most eye-opening thing about the 1971 was how impossible it was to go back to the Mugnier. Even though I think the Mugnier was the best wine we had on this night, its youth served as a handicap in the end. After drinking some of the Roumier, I found it near impossible to enjoy the Mugnier as much as I had, as in couldn.t even go there anymore.

And therein lies the greatness of old wine.

Man, I don’t know where to begin”¦so many events that deserve recognition and commendation, especially from me since I was at all of them J. I guess we might as well get the bad news out of the way first. I can’t seem to find my La Paulee, Part IV notes, the grand finale. It is really bothering me. I gotta have them somewhere. I took 52 notes that night, and it was one of the all-time greatest wine nights ever, starting with the hotel suite pre-Paulee and old bottles of Roumier (and others) with Christoph (and others), all the way down to the La Paulee and its sheer insanity, then outside, around and upside down, only to end up back in the suite again 50 wines later. I was carrying those notes around for weeks, as it was going to be my next article, and somehow now I can’t find them. Aaaaarrrrggghhhh.

But that train cannot wait at the station my dear, but even moving on has so many possible directions. Happy Birthday celebrations for King Angry, PMJ and Hollywood Jef were all stupendous evenings of incredible, old wines. Bruce’s thunder-ific night of Soldera and 1979 Champagne? Or a night with Roberto Conterno at Del Posto?? I try some young wine too, you know. Two snapshots of the 2005 Burgundy vintage, one of all the s and another with Clive, have given me lots to say about this indubitably great vintage. Bipin orchestrated a magical Sunday afternoon at Spago with 1978s, Burgundy again, of course. Important tastings of Meo-Camuzet (Bipin with Meo) and Jayer were significant and significantly delicious. Evenings benefiting the City of Hope and Mount Sinai were out of control wild and good, and for good causes, too. Brief journeys into Europe and Asia saw a few good bottles go down the hatch. But, of course, I can never forget Big Boy’s not one, but two spectacular VIP dinners celebrating his incredible sale just a couple of weeks ago. I can’t even go there. I have to catch my breath just thinking about them again. All I can say is that by the end of April, I have never seen anyone open up as much great wine over a shorter period of time than what Rob has already drunk in 2008. Actually not drunk, make that opened up and shared with many people, strangers and friends alike. He has redefined the wine world’s definition of ‘throwing it down.’

Was that good enough for you, Rob lol. Seriously, I am only mentioning the facts; I think it is safe to say that we all know that Rob’s ego doesn’t need any more encouragement. All those events I just mentioned are the biggest highlights of the past quarter. I wish I had them all ready to go; gotta figure something out there. Just”¦no”¦time”¦ 🙁 ”¦which brings me to a mini four-part series, a recent four nights out in a row in the greater New York area. I decided to start with the last evening of the four first, just because. Every write-up can’t be twenty-five wines; otherwise, I never get to writing it up damnit.

Speaking of which, back to the evening at Blue Hill Stone Farms up in Tarrytown, a definite destination point for any foodie. All the produce is grown on location, and the meal was one of the year’s top five, food-wise for me, and I get around a little. It rests on the grounds of the Rockerfeller Estate, and I am not talking Jay-Z. The Barber family owns and operates the restaurant. We could thank rockin’ Roger for this memorable evening, both food and wine-wise. He has been threatening to do a dinner up there for the past two quarters and finally pulled one together. This is the third time I have been up there, all with Roger, and every time I am there I say to myself, ‘man, I have to come here more often!’ ‘Nuff said.

About the food, that is. I write about the wines. We started with three bubblies, the first of which was a 1990 Dom Perignon Oenotheque. It had that pungent Oenoethque thing happening, the cat’s pee and spice box mélange. Its acidity was excellent and also pungent, and it was obviously fresh, but a bit linear and a touch horsey. It was great, don’t get me wrong, and I know there are many that feel the ’75 Oeno is the best thing since the Internet, but I just have to say that when I drink a bottle of Oeno, I taste the ‘Oeno’ more than the vintage. Maybe that’s a good thing, I don’t know. Will have to get back to you in 20+ years (94+).

The 1982 Krug was a little off, a touch advanced, so I am going to keep it simple and (DQ).

The 1982 Cristal was stellar, as it should be. Its nose was full of vitamins and yellow fruits, still wound but also round and rich. Citrus, butter and spice flavors were all there and harmonious in this rock-solidbottle of Cris (95).

Author’s note***There was some confusion as to the Krug versus Cristal and which one was actually off. I am going by what the sommelier told me they were, even though Roger is convinced it was the other way around. I did find the good bottle to be Cris-ish.

We sat down to a 1989 Raveneau Chablis Vaillons. The nose was great, singing with its lemon, lime and guava fruit, while also possessing supporting aromas of minerals and white smoke. More hints of citrus and tangerine emerged. Its flavors were a different story, showing wax and yeast first, and then some corn with the dirt and some stalk, too. Still tasty, it was round and had a soft finish, its acidity barely holding on to excellence, and it was a 20-year old premier cru white, after all (93).

The first offical flight was one of whites, all Joseph Drouhin Marquis de Laguiche Montrachets. We began with a 1993, which also had a great nose. 1993 has become a pet white wine vintage for many connoisseurs to be drinking at the moment, and one whiff of the Drouhin was reason enough to understand. It was singing even more so than the previous two, all of which could have made any wine choir. The nose was huge, full of vigor and life, super smoky, nutty and deep, dark and edgy. ‘Lots of mesquite charcoal and hot rocks,’ I wrote, along with 7up, dandelions and daisies. It also had this honeycomb catacomb impression. It was an amazing nose. The palate was round and nutty, also with traces of honeycomb, and Dave noted, ‘jasmine tea.’ The evil John Slover called it, ‘Roussanne-like,’ which I saw more so on the palate. The palate was rounder than the nose led me to believe and just didn’t have that ‘oomph’ I expected. As Roger summed it up, ‘the nose was a symphony, but the palate a quartet’ (92).

The 1990 was more honeyed and forward, nutty with lots of brown sugar, and pinches of A1. Honeyed and gamy, it also had lit fireplace aromas. The mouth was very floral in this complicated and rich wine. Ned noted, ‘marzipan,’ and I picked up on more of its oily qualities. It was exotic, thick, oily and ‘floral fresh city.’ ‘Coconuts!’ became most distinctive with time. It was a wild and kinky guy (95+).

The 1973 was a real treat and had a great, old nose. Wax, fireplace, bamboo shoot jungle and a touch of mountain rocks were all present. Dave cooed how he ‘could smell it all day.’ Round and balanced, its fruit was definitely aged on the palate but still excellent. Its waxy, edgy personality held form well (93).

A pair of reds was served blind next. The first had a dank, dark nose with lots of spice, a bit woodsy but still with some red fruits underneath. ‘It’s earthy and vegetal in a great way,’ Slover added, along with ‘reeds and straw.’ And by reeds, he meant swamp reeds, not his years of playing the recorder. A hint of mesquite and ‘tobacco’ rounded out its nose. The palate had dry, sour cherry and vitamin flavors, and I started to note a bit of must. In fact, there was definitely some cork issues with this bottle, but it was not enough to discourage drinking it. Oh yeah, it was a 1985 Drouhin Chambolle Musigny Les Amoureuses (93A).

The second wine was more saucy. Roger was saying something about ‘heavy balls,’ but he was in deep conversation with a former tennis pro lol. Saucy, soupy and gamy, there were great aromas of menthol, game, iodine, tomato and cherry fruit. In fact, it had this distinct puttanesca edge with more time. There was nice spice and better acidity in this 1985 Mugnier Musigny, his first vintage. Slover called it, ‘really really good,’ and Dave hailed it as ‘killer,’ continuing with ‘nice cherry fruit qualities mixed with its earthiness.’ This was a much better showing for me than previously experienced (94).

Ned reminisced of his days at Bouley when the 1991 Mugnier Musigny was $360 a case wholesale, and they were going through this wine at $100 a bottle on the list. Wine’s come a long way, baby.

We had another pair of 1985s, also served blind at the time. The first was nutty, deep and dark with lots of autumnal notes on its surface but clearly young and not autumnal overall. Beef meets perfume was a good way to put it, which was seconded, and someone added ‘cola.’ Dave found it ‘reduced,’ and the sommelier later commented how ‘its atypical burliness’ even threw him off of which wine this was for a second. It was a bit earthy and weedy on the palate, a touch confused and lacking a centerpoint. My experiences with 1985 Roumier Bonnes Mares have been up and down, and this was definitely on the down side for this wine (92).

Dave shared some interesting tidbits about Roumier and his two parcels of Bonnes Mares, the Terres Blanches and the Terres Rouge and how before 1988, the Terres Rouges came to America while the Terres Blanches went to Europe, and that starting in 1989, there was one final blend. I did have both versions of the 1985 many years ago at an event hosted by Daniel Johnnes. Of course, Christoph brought the bottles.

Back to the second wine, which we all thought was the first wine. It was a 1985 Bertheau Bonnes Mares, and it walked the Roumier, something that doesn’t happen too often. Minty and floral with the greens, its nose was deep and intense, ‘Dujac-like’ I wrote with its stemmy spice. It had sweet, cinnamon purple fruit. Rich, fleshy and tasty with excellent vitamin flavors, this was a smooth and velvety Burgundy that was in the right place at the right time (94).

The last flight was one of La Taches, ending the night in grand fashion. We began with the 1991 La Tache, which had a deep, intense forest nymph orgy thing happening in its nose. Nutty with firm aromas of game, beef and iron, the 1991 had full frontal spine and spice. Its palate was citrusy, sweet, satiny and sexy, yet a bit tight. Ned found it in a ‘dumb’ phase, while Dave countered that it was not dumb, rather ‘young but classic.’ It jumped out more with food, and there remains an ocean of potential in this young buck of a La Tache (95+).

The 1980 La Tache had superb aromatics, so much so that I found it unlikely to ever be better. It was so forward and gamy, full of garden, fresh game and spice, wild weeds and fields, and just a heck of a lot of overall sex appeal. Dave found it ‘rosy,’ and it was many’s favorite wine of the night, although I do think this will be a La Tache that will drop the point ladder sooner rather than later (96).

The last wine on this special evening was the 1970 La Tache, which was more herbal in the nose; dark, dank and musky with lots of animal fur. The palate was citrusy and more hollow than the previous two, starting to dry out but still respectable (91).

A quick glass of 1985 Krug got me ready for the trip back home. Full of vitamins, spice and intense game, this fresh and perfect bottle of 1985 was great with a spicy and long finish, still young (96).

And that was my last night of four in a row. Three more to follow shortly, and I mean shortly! I will end this segment of tasting notes with some facts shared with us by another Dave, Dave Barber, a fellow Collegiate alum, while discussing food and consumption. Over the past fifteen years, China has gone from 5 kilograms to 20 kilograms of meat consumption per person per year. If China were to ever equal the average American consumption per year of 120 kilograms, we would need three earths just to sustain that consumption pattern, because 65% of the agriculture on earth feeds its meat production. Wow. Looks like the price of wine isn’t the only thing going up in the near future.

Eat less meat. Drink more wine.

I go to a lot of wine dinners, most of which no one ever reads about. Most of the legendary dinners that I have attended, you have read about, and what happened this past Thursday night in Los Angeles quickly became one of the all-time legendary nights for everyone in attendance, and there were some serious and experienced connoisseurs in the room. Allen Meadows, aka the Burghound, was there, and the next morning had this to say to Rob: ‘Seriously, I have attended a lot of really nice events over the years, but this one ranks in my top five ever, which is saying something,’ or as he put it to me, ‘Dude. That was AWESOME.’ Another said the next day, ‘the best Burg and Champ night ever”¦I am done, it’s over”¦no way could I drink more or better”¦’ Here’s one more comment for good measure, ‘You rewrote LA wine history last night.’ Big Boy had come to Los Angeles, and now all of Los Angeles wants to know when Big Boy is coming back.

Cocktail round began with a magnum of 1979 Krug Collection, a nice aperitif. It was tight as nails at first, slowly revealing signature vanilla cream, oil and nutty wood frames. Its nose got creamier and creamier, and I thought to myself, ‘Here is a Champagne that almost needs decanting.’ It got more and more buttery in the glass, and almost a pan-fried complexity a la Zeppoles with some powdered sugar. The palate was very zippy, citrusy, spiny, bright and long with nice grit and dust. Rippling with minerals, I couldn’t help but feel that this was a food Champagne, and one that needed much more time in the glass to open up and show even more (95+M).

The mag of Krug went rather quickly, so we popped an impromptu magnum of 1971 Dom Perignon Rose. Mr. Rosania always likes to travel with a few extra bottles just in case lol. The ’71 was in a great spot right now, round and rich with tasty strawberry fruit. It had good earth flavors and didn’t get dirty like some old Dom Roses can. It popped without being overly acidic, and it seemed to be entering that plateau of maturity where it will stay for a long time. It still had some zip and was long in its own regal way (95M).

We finally sat down to the first official flight. We waited for a close friend of mine as long as we could, but there was a lot of drinking to do, and he was running an hour late as usual. All the Champagnes and wines were served blind, and I dropped a few hints as the guessing games went along throughout the night. I, of course, knew what was what, and Rob knew what he brought to LA but not what I selected for each flight.

The first Champagne was superb. We started off on the right foot with this creamy, nutty, toasty and honeyed nectar. It had this smoky, glazed donut edge and the perfect amount of sweetness possible. In the mouth, it was seamless, balanced and pure with great, granulated sugar flavors and excellent acidity. Someone picked up on ‘caramel.’ This magnum of 1969 Dom Perignon was as good as it gets (96M).

The second bubbly in this flight of three had a sweet and toasty nose that had this earthy streak that was more root vegetable. The nose had some woodsy and funky edges, but still possessed positive geyser, game and sunny yellow fruits. The palate was wild and woolly, sweet and buttery, gritty and exotic. Jerry admired its ‘jungle flowers’ and then made one of the most interesting and astute wine comments I have ever heard, ‘You can feel the humidity in the wine.’ It was so true, this bottle of 1969 Cristal really gave off this humid impression. Jef picked up on ‘coffee-coated licorice.’ Jerry added, ‘cat pee,’ and I a touch of cigar. Rob found it ‘kinky’ and observed ‘anise.’ I thought that this bottle was either very slightly corked or affected somehow, as I have had near-perfect bottles of this bring me to my knees, and Rob felt the same. It was still decadent and very, very drinkable (95A).

The last Champagne of this first flight really got Allen’s attention, and mine as well. This was clearly in a separate category from the first two with its breed and structure. Jerry liked its ‘yeasty’ personality, and its nose was just extraordinary. As Allen succinctly put it, ‘it has perfect balance and punch. I love austerity.’ It was austere in the most noble of ways, lemony and fiercely intense. Its finish took off like a rocket ship and went on and on and on”¦its acidity was unreal. Superlatives were not enough to describe how good this bottle of 1969 Krug Private Cuvee was, original bottling (97+).

Everyone was immediately bowled over by this impressive flight of ‘69s. Steve had a funny line about the flight, and one of the best things about fine and rare Champagne, “You can fake an orgasm, but you can’t fake Champagne.”

The next flight was comprised of four glasses, and I gave a hint early on: one producer, three decades. The first Champagne had amazing color, all the more so given its age. It was a ‘wow’ nose, full of vanilla bean and sugar crystals. Nutty and creamy with a nice foresty complexity, there were also hints of marzipan and bread crust from a fresh baguette. Its vanilla cream flavors were decadently good, ‘butterscotchy’ as Jerry put it, and one hour later this bottle of 1928 Louis Roederer was still singing. Old Roederer is still one of Champagne’s best-kept secrets, and it was easy to see why Big Boy calls 1928 ‘Champagne’s greatest vintage’ (97).

The 1952 Louis Roederer was a touch oxidized, but still excellent. It had lots of caramel and brown sugar in the nose, and Rob pointed out how it wasn’t as oxidized on the palate as it was in the nose. Delicious golden raisin and Madeira flavors graced its palate, which was a bit more wine-like than anything else so far (93A).

Allen was all over the next bottle, admiring its ‘crème brulee’ and ‘light Sauternes’ characteristics. There were touches of yeast and fig to this unraveling giant. Game, white meat, vitamins and oil started to take over in dominant fashion. Its fruit became sweeter and more exotic, and additional flavors of oats and yeast added to its complexity. We had another ‘rocket ship’ finish, and the 1955 Louis Roederer was all that and then some, still spritzy and oh so tasty, with pinches of sweet liquid dropped vitamins. This was another ’55 proving why Big Boy says this is the vintage of its decade (97).

The last wine in this flight was also Roederer, but it was also Cristal, 1966 to be exact. The 1966 Cristal was the ‘youngest’ to Jerry while guesses were still being made. The ’66 nose was racy and linear in a 99 mile per hour way. Loads of vanilla, yellow sunshine and this exotic sushi/soy/wasabe complexity graced its long and vigorous nose. Allen admired its ‘tertiary’ qualities and the fact that it was just starting to come into that phase. The palate was long, fresh and ‘super-duper,’ so yellow and full of corn-buttered fruit that was just divine (97+).

The third flight of Champagne was a duet, whose clue was ‘same vintage, different producer.’ The first bubbly had an unbelievable nose. It gave elegance a whole new meaning with its pure, clear and clean personality. Seductive aromas of straw, hay, nut, yeast, white fruits and vanilla were intoxicating. Long and ‘so good,’ there were loads of vanilla flavors to this thick yet agile 1949 Pommery. Balanced and full of minerals, this was another superb bottle of ancient Champagne from the cellars of Robert A. Rosania. When all was said and done, Rob actually felt that this wasChampagne of the night as it had ‘the greatest balance and the highest pitch.’ He would know (97).

The 1949 Dom Perignon was more advanced than the Pommery, more wine-like but still with some petillance and delicious in its own right. There was more texture and a sense of grandeur, but this bottle was already in a graceful declining stage. It might have been the bottle, or it might be ’49 DP in general. I guess I will have to have it again. Good thing I know Rob! Back to the DP”¦it was rich, saucy and almost soupy, sweet and delicious in its ‘On Golden Pond’ way (95).

It was time for some reds, and Jerry surprised us with a flight of his own that just so happened to fit into our program quite nicely. I love it when that happens. The first wine was serious juice. It had a killer nose of deep black fruits and incredible spice. There was what I call ‘fireplace action,’ along with tobasco, Worcestershire and earth. The palate was rich and hearty with great bouillon, earth and spice flavors. Hearty and long, and with huge acidity, despite its larger than life persona, it still remained polished and softened out in the glass wonderfully over time. It was a 1962 Ponsot Clos de la Roche Vieilles Vignes. Boing (97).

Many preferred the second wine in this flight the best, a surprisingly good 1962 Lamarche ‘La Grande Rue.’ I could see why as it was decadently mature, more advanced and more ready to go than the Ponsot, which was following the Lamarche’s road to maturity many years behind. The Grande Rue (a monopole vineyard in Vosne Romanee) had lots more beef and Worcestershire sauce in its big, spice-laden nose. There was also more garden, and some eucalyptus and cola complexities. Heady and saucy, both in the nose and on the palate, the wine’s flavors were of beef, citrus and cola, and it reminded someone of a ‘gamy Richebourg.’ It definitely showed the oldest of thethree ‘62s, but it kept expanding in the glass, gaining and growing on me. Its acidity really came out with some food, and despite its browned old fruit nature, it kept going and going and going, as did my score up up and up (96).

The third wine in this flight of ‘62s had a deep, sexy nose, also with lots of beef and Worcestershire, but some cassis behind those as well. There was incredible spice to its oily nose and a soft citrus edge. It was thick, rich and creamy with this nutty cassis kink becoming more pronounced. Its flavors were earthy and spicy with edges of bouillon and garden. It got mintier in the glass, thickening and leaving an impressive impression in the end. It was a rare 1962 Gros Frere et Soeur Richebourg (95).

There was another guest flight, but this one was planned, as there is also a guest consignment in Rob’s sale from ‘THE Cellar.’ a close friend of mine had long since arrived on the scene, and he brought gifts, two flights of them, in fact. a close friend of mine and Rob have developed a great friendship over the years with their comparable generosity and passion for rare, old wines. I should start a dating service lol.

The first wine in this second flight of red wines first had oats and brown sugar in its nose, also having classic bouillon, garden, earth and dirt. Flavors of citrus, earth and ‘caramel’ (Jerry) were present in this tangy wine, and Allen was all over its ‘lemongrass’ quality, and it was just that! Clean and almost crisp, this was a mellow yet solid bottle of 1959 Ponsot Clos St. Denis Vieilles Vignes that had nice spice and stayed fresh (95).

The second wine was a noticeable step up from the first wine, possessing ‘so much energy’ per someone. This wine ‘got game,’ I wrote, and it was as if there was a slice of Kobe beef in the center of its decadent and oily nose. Its earth qualities were incredible, citing Rob to call it ‘another dimension.’ It was more like ‘another night of wine dementia,’ I mused to myself, and we did certainly feel demented by the end of the night, not to mention the next morning. A hint of exotic lavender graced its palate, which was so thick and rich that I wrote the combination of those two words five times in my notes. I guess I wanted to get that point across lol. Its texture was ‘retarded,’ and its acidity was ‘off the charts’ as well. What a bottle of 1959 Roumier Bonnes Mares (97+).

The third wine in this flight of ‘59s was a bit stinky at first with some urine notes. With some oxygen, big, beefy fruit emerged, along with a bit of ass, to be blunt. Spiny yet soft, there was a rough, masculine edge here, ‘wood and spice’ as Jerry put it. There was excellent and spicy alcohol and acidity in this 1959 Ponsot Clos de la Roche Vieilles Vignes. This is a wine that I have had one near-perfect bottle and one near-perfect magnum, so it always seems like a letdown relative to those even though it was still (95). That doesn’t happen too often!

There was one more flight from a close friend of mine, this one being a flight of 1949s. Oh alright, if you insist. First up was the 1949 Rousseau Chambertin, which was gamy, earthy and spicy in its nose with decadent bouillon aromas. It was ‘rankly’ ripe; ie, very pungent and gamy, bordering on ‘rank’ in a good way. The palate was chunky and long, full of beefy and citrusy flavors and incredible earth on its finish. Ah oui oui (96).

As good as the Rousseau was, the next two bottles were staggering. It is pretty hard for Rousseau to get beat by a significant margin in 1949, or any vintage for that matter, but that is exactly what happened. The second ’49 had a minty nose with a deep leather component. Thick and decadent aromatically, there was iron, spice, earth and garden, and all those carried over to the palate in synchronicity. ‘So thick, so spicy, so outta control good,’ I wrote. This was wine number nineteen, and the notes were starting to wane as this was a tasting that you just had to drink almost every last drop! This bottle of 1949 Roumier Bonnes Mares was as good as it gets, and it flirted with 98/99 points, and were it not for the bottle that would follow, it might have actually gotten it. It was that good (97+).

The twentieth wine of the night would end up being its finest for me so far. The 1949 Ponsot Clos de la Roche Vieilles Vignes had a spiny and spicy nose, showing some of the same, old Burgundy character traits of the Roumier, with more hints of anise and allspice. The Ponsot went one step beyond the Roumier, its richness even more mind-blowing, its minerals and acidity extraordinary. This was breathtaking wine. In the end, the Ponsot ‘killed it’ (98).

We had an intermezzo, a magnum of 1952 Krug, which unfolded into its signature intoxicating vanilla cream, super sexy with its gamy fruits and mature nuances. Although the bottle gave me the feeling that the sun was starting to set for this wine, it was a breathtaking sunset, so to speak, a memory that will always linger. Round, lovely, lush and rich, it was super buttery in the mouth, so voluptuous, so concentrated, balanced and mature (94).

Rob brought some old Burgundies, too. You know he also has a bit of wine. Just a bit. It’s not all about Champagne for Mr. Rosania. He needs his Burgundy, too. The flight that would follow was crowned ‘best flight ever’ by David, and everyone couldn’t help but concur. Emails of adoration ensued the next morning about this flight, Rob’s version of ‘shock and awe.’

I only mustered up one official note for the four wines, which seemed to take all my note-taking skills with it. The 1934 Romanee Conti was monumental, as it should be. The nose was rich and intense beyond belief; aromas of cigar, cherry and atouch of cat’s pee went with the usual rose, menthol, citrus, rust and animal of great old RC. The palate had ‘insane’ intensity; one sip made me write, ‘99 points no question,’ the second time I have had that impression for this incredible vintage. Hey wait a second, both times I was with Allen! Man, the Burghound does know how to sniff out the right events to come to J. Thick, earthy, spiny and spicy, this wine sent shivers up and down my spine. If there ever were a wine to challenge the 1945 as ‘best wine I have ever had,’ it would be this bottle of 1934. If every person on earth could drink a wine like this, the world would be a much better place (99).

The 1923 Liger-Belair La Tache that followed was no slouch, either. ‘Sick as always,’ I wrote. I have had this wine three or four times from Rob’s cellar, and he has an incredible batch of this wine. It has always been at least a 98-point wine for me, and its gamy, leathery and earthy qualities were all legendary again. I might have been splitting hairs, but I gave it (98+). You’ll have to check some old notes for more details, sorry.

The third wine was the wine of wines, the king of kings and the lord of lords, the 1945 Romanee Conti. It is nice when two of your best friends have virtually all the bottles of this wine left in existence! Only 608 bottles were made; I have had it now five times (one still to be written up but you will read that one next week), and yes, they were all real. Man, what a wine. I have said so much about this wine before, that I don’t feel bad about my lack of a detailed note here. ‘YOWSERS’ was one of my detailed observations lol. ‘Super intense’ was another. Notwithstanding this wine’s usual perfection and status as the greatest wine I have ever had, as bottle and circumstance variation would have it, I actually found the ’45 on this night to be a small step behind the ’34. We are talking videotape replay, Indianapolis 500 photo finish material here (98+).

The last wine in what was supposed to be this last flight was a 1919 Les Gaudichots, actually brought by a close friend of mine. My only notes were, ‘Holy f-*%#.’ Everyone ought to have at least one or ten of those in their lives, don’t you think? The 1919 was so good it had world-class skier Kate doing iron crosses off the table lol. She immediately retired after this flight to pursue a life of drinking wine with Big Boy HA (99).

No matter where you are or what you are drinking, if you have wines from Domaine de la Romanee Conti in your plans, make sure you drink them last because there is really no place to go from there, and you are about to see exactly why.

There was another flight that was supposed to be opened earlier, but we fell off course. However, the bottles had already been opened, so we had to drink them, right? The wines were a 1952 Monfortino and 1966 and 1969 La Moulines. These are all 98 or 99 point wines and probably Italy’s and the Rhone’s greatest wines”¦EVER, but after the ’s, they all lost a couple points and were down to 96-97 point territory. The actually lowered their scores! They probably would have lowered some of the other wines’ scores from before, too, if we had them after the s. Allen emailed me the next morning, ‘What amazed me was how the ’66 La Mouline was just lost after that foursome, which is as we both know, for as great as the ’66 La Mouline is, really saying something.’

There was one more Champagne to wash it all down, a glorious 1961 Krug. If there is one wine in the world that can follow a flight of RC, it would be Krug. It alone stands worthy. Big Boy took this bottle of ’61 Krug outside onto the streets of LA and La Cienega Boulevard, and successfully sabered this bottle in one shot. The Krug was all Krug, buttery, lushand full of decadent vanilla and cream aromas and flavors. Man, those ’61s are in a great spot now, and not going anywhere anytime soon (97).

I don’t remember quite everything from there, but I do remember waking up the next morning still drunk. That doesn’t happen too often. I had missed my flight to Palm Beach, where the Great Wine Seminar was taking place, but after last night the simple truth of the matter is that I couldn’t even think about drinking anything for a few days. I had a mini Guy Savoy moment the night before when I got back to my hotel room at 2am, a brief moment of consciousness, that every wine I could possibly taste this weekend would seem like ordinary table wine no matter what it was. Plus, I would have to wake up and pack in like three hours, and that was definitely not happening!

I cannot thank Big Boy enough for his incredible generosity. Thank you a close friend of mine and Jerry as well. To have so many 97-99 point wines in one setting (sixteen!!!) is truly extraordinary. As Rob often says, ‘with privilege comes responsibility,’ and I love it when he is responsible like this lol. But seriously, sharing these wines and drinking these bottles with people are what it is all about, and there is definitely one man who understands this: Robert A. Rosania.