I have been traveling across Europe for the better part of two weeks. The first week was all work, packing up the cellar of Wolfgang Grunewald in scenic Switzerland. While we probably should have spent seven or eight days on the job inspecting and packing the some-odd 800 cases for shipment, we managed to jam it into five days in true Acker fashion, including a couple of 2-3am nights. It was well worth it; it was a thrilling cellar to inspect, and it should be the most significant sale of the entire market’s Fall season.

Wolfgang, a healthy and vigorous 78-year old whose passion for life is as great as it’s ever been, has been collecting wines for over thirty years, much of it with his dear friend Bipin Desai. Together they sought after the best of the best for decades, not only for their collections, but also to experience. It was an epic journey of tastings and dinners throughout America and Europe, leaving a trail of thousands of empty bottles behind, one that still continues to this day. Of course, we tasted a few things during that week with Wolf, but I will get to that soon enough, as I will more about Wolf and his cellar. Suffice it to say for now that it is one of the last great and grand collections of the 20th century, a testament not only to the man himself, but also to a golden era of discovery for those passionate about the grape.

So we finished up on the 12th, but there was a significant tasting of 1947s the following Friday, again in Switzerland, so I figured it was finally a good time to take a long, overdue trip to Burgundy in between. The Don, Doug, Brian, the Rock and the Burghound were all already there, or scheduled to be there, so it was as good a time as any to be there myself for the first time since I was a child. I had been meaning to come to Burgundy for a long time, but never quite seemed to make it. I can safely say, after spending a few days nestled away in beautiful Beaune, that I will be back very soon. Beaune is an amazing little ‘ville,’ with a neighborly, Old World feel, where life centers around wine, lunch and dinner. Sounds like paradise, right? Well, it was to me, and I highly recommend a trip to Beaune if you ever want to get lost in the countryside, or under the dinner table, for a few days, which is exactly what I did.

I basically came to decompress. There were a couple of significant appointments that I was able to make, but for the most part, the week was recovering from the strenuous week prior, and catching up on a lot of paperwork as well. Lunch and dinner were significant parts of the day, none more significant than the dinner we had on Bastille Day, which was also a birthday celebration for Doug Barzelay, one of Burgundy’s most knowledgeable and experienced collectors, who appropriately was born on France’s version of independence day. Eight of us gathered at the L’Hotel de Beaune, including Louis Michel Liger-Belair, one of Burgundy’s youngest shining stars.

The evening started innocently enough with a 1999 Philipponat Clos des Goisses, which had a pungent nose that was on the anise side with aromas of wet hay and citrus, but also possessing roses and minerals. It had rocket-like acidity, with rocky and racy flavors of pungent pee and wet hay. While certainly fresh, it lacked a bit of depth that I had hoped for based on the nose, but it was still an intense bubbly built for the long haul (93).

A pair of 1979 whites was the official welcome to dinner, beginning with a 1979 Ramonet Bienvenues Batard Montrachet. A clean yet tangy nose flirted with pungency, possessing good stink. Aromas of earth, mesquite and indoor cleaner resulted in a nose that was fresher than I expected. There were not yet as many mature nuances here, and the wine was more lemony and zippy. There was a hint of a cement, oak and nut mix like a faceful of sidewalk tree stump lol. Theacidity here was special, and while its flavors stayed on the pungent side, it was the clear preference and admired by all (94).

A 1979 Coche-Dury Meursaul Perrieres was unfortunately a bit corked, although it wasn’t blatant or so dominant that the wine couldn’t be evaluated a bit. There was a balance of old and new here in its earthy and yeasty nose, one balanced by warm lemon notes. Orange blossom slowly emerged, as did a BBQ stink. There were a lot of cement flavors in this ‘overpowering’ white, one that was ‘hinting at nuttiness but beyond that,’ per the Rock. Flavors of poached yellow tomatoes also joined the party in this ’79, whose acidity was still solid. Doug finally conceded its mustiness, saying ‘I thought it would clean up, but it didn’t.’ There were still some exotic and meaty flavors to this unfortunately affected bottle of Coche (92A).

Speaking of affected bottles, there were unfortunately a pair of oxidized old Ramonets, or Ramonet-Prudhons as they were back in 1962 and 1971. The 1962 Ramonet-Prudhon Batard Montrachet had one of the more offensive noses I had encountered, so much so that I was scared to even taste it. It smelled like dirty sea dock that was ready for a horror movie scene. It did taste better than it smelled, but it was clearly shot (DQ). The 1971 was not that bad, and ‘still pleasant,’ as one put it, though clearly affected and not what it woulda/coulda/shoulda. It still had a very exotic nose, yeasty but with this Galiano cake meets orange blossom honey thing happening. There were tea-like flavors in this soft and round white that had ‘lost its fruit,’ as Doug observed, but its nose continued to get more exotic and very marmelade-like. ‘Apricot jam’ and ‘a hint of basil’ were also noted in this simpler-than-it-could-have-been white, which was still ok andpalatable but affected (88A).

It was a tough start for this tough crowd. Between Doug and the Rock, praise can be difficult to come by! However, we marched on, and things would soon right themselves in dramatic fashion once we got to the reds. There was still one more white, a 1992 Lafon Montrachet, a quick emergency substitute due to all the issues with the whites. Its nose was buttery and toasty with nice perfume and ‘Georgia peach’ per our Georgia Peach of a guest. One could smell the botrytis in its sweet corn aromas, and the Rock observed how there was ‘both sur-maturite and drying qualities; I am not sure how that can be.’ I liked its smoky nose and the additional aromas of earth, caramel and lit match. The palate was round and yeasty, also a bit Botrytissed. The Rock and I got into a debate about ratings when I asked him what he would score this wine, and he said ‘89 points.’ When I scoffed at such a low score for what I would categorize as still a very good wine (92 points), albeit one on the decline, the swords were quickly drawn. ‘You’re smoking crack,’ I was told, and I countered how he was part of the ‘No Joy, No Luck Club.’ Doug is the President, by the way, lol. We quickly settled on an 89-92 rating, and the Rock convinced me to average down after accurately describing how the wine lacked that ‘excitement factor’ that he seeks. All in good fun (91).

A pair of glorious 1937s were next, beginning with a great bottle of 1937 Echezeaux. Aromas of green olives danced on a platform of ripe brown sugar and oat, combined with tomato and Worcestershire. This was a heady and saucy wine, still with sold t ‘n a in its nose. Someone noted ‘licorice’ in the nose, and benevolent ‘rubber’ on the palate. Superb brown sugar flavors graced its rich and saucy palate. Sweet, black and red cherry flavors balanced with its hearty acidity. I could see it being a touch too ripe for some, since it was so ‘hedonistic.’ I was quickly skewered for my use of the word, and despite that, everyone was in agreement that this was an outstanding and impressive bottle (95).

The 1937 Drouhin Bonnes Mares was equally as glorious, although stylistically much different. The nose was more reserved compared to the Echezeaux, although sweet cherry slowly fought through a wall of smoke, earth, freshly cut green grass, a green grass that almost flirted with honeydew. A syrup edge emerged as its nose became more cherry and more vanilla with time in the glass. While the Drouhin was not as over the top as the , the acidity was superb in this dusty delectable. Someone compared the two ‘37s to ‘chocolate cake versus a tart,’ the being the cake. It was also joked that one ‘could bring home the Bonnes Mares to Mom.’ The Rock was all over the ‘elegance’ of the Drouhin, scoring it 97 points to 94 points for the . He was wrong again 🙂 (96).

A rare pair of Liger-Belairs were next, both original bottlings, all the more special in the presence of Louis Michel Liger-Belair. First was a 1906 Liger-Belair La Romanee. The nose was great; deep yet reticent and on the black and purple side, still pungent and fresh despite being age 102. The nose morphed into aromas of mint and curry while its fruit focused into blackberry and boysenberry. Traces of spine and spice were still alive and kicking after all these years. The palate was rich but had a bit of a metallic edge at first, but it blew off into a soft, leathery edge. The acidity was still intense, and everyone was ooh-ing and aah-ing over this ancient relic. Violet and sweet black fruit flavors still sung in this citric, dusty and vibrant ’06”¦1906. The Rock summed it up, comparing the ’06 to a ‘school yard bully. It beats the crap out of everyone in its way. It’s not elegant, but it sure is powerful’ (96).

The 1921 Liger-Belair La Tache was also extraordinary, similar in style to the ’06, but a touch younger in its fruit, and also deeper. Louis Michel probably still has nightmares about his family’s decision to sell off what is now one of the most legendary wine properties in the world. Cigar and old wood aromas graced its nose, along with earth, celery, more dirt and a bit of ass. The palate has excellent concentration and tasty cherry and raspberry oil flavors in this beautiful and classy wine. Overall, the wine was softer and gentler than the La Romanee. ‘The ’06 has more profundity,’ the Rock interjected, ‘the ’21 has a few off notes.’ Doug joined in, observing, ‘volatile acidity’ in the ’21. ‘Geez, I would hate to apply to college with you two reviewing the applications,’ I replied (94).

A curious fellow, a 1909 Café Voisin Chambertin, was our last red wine of the evening, and this was a bottle brought specifically for Allen, as 1909 was one of the two vintages of the 20th century that he had not yet sampled. 1902 is the other, for those of you that want to get him a Christmas present later this year. This was more of a curiosity-killed-the-Burghound wine than something that Doug had to have, and the wine did have a bit of a maderized edge, full of paint thinner aromas but sturdy accordingly. There was lots of VA here, as well as rich, coffee sambuca and oatmeal flavors. There was still solid acidity in this rarely-seen vintage, but the wine was a bit over the top, like someone who has gone to the doctor for a bit too much plastic surgery, except in an old school Burgundy way (90).

There was one more glorious wine on this magical evening, a 1947 Rieussec, although I am not sure if any of the attendees would ever admit it, being thedevoted Burgundy worshippers that they are. Classic aromas of candle wax and honey combined with rich, nutty, creamy and delicious flavors. The finish was still dry in this sweet wine, one that also had Turkish apricot flavors as well. Yum (94).

Happy Birthday, Doug, and here are some brief observations about the rest of my days in Beaune, because if I don’t write them up here, I never will. Yes, there are thousands more just like them. I’m trying!

AND”¦

Dinner with Frederic Drouhin (gonna try to write that one up separately)
All the 2007 Liger-Belairs
A bunch of 2006 whites including Niellon Batard Montrachet

So, where to begin”¦

Let’s start with the 2006 whites. I was most impressed by this mini-assortment the Don treated me too, having had no experience with the vintage. We had at least six or seven premier crus, from one of Pierre Yves Colin’s St. Aubins to Marc’s Chassagne, a new Moreau, a Colin-Deleger, and others, ending with the Niellon. I didn’t take notes, but my memory still servesme correctly in that I found all of these wines to be clean, refreshing, tasty and moderately age-able. It reminded me of something I like to say often: ‘great producers make great wine every year; some years you just want to drink sooner.’ I think 2006 might last a little bit longer and offer more joy than most people think, given the enormous shadow that 2005 has cast upon it. Checka check ‘em out.

How about the 2007 reds? It seems to be the consensus that this will be a tough vintage for Burgundy, but again, the top of the pyramid will prove enjoyable and quality. The barrel tasting at Liger-Belair was impressive, to say the least, especially given all the different properties being managed and bottled. Louis Michel’s commitment to quality and drive to be one of Burgundy’s most significant estates is clearly self-evident, and given his youthful age, significant land holdings and access, and significant training and schooling, I think he will be one of the shining stars in Burgundy for my generation. It’s like when you see on Billboard’s ‘Top 40’ chart, ‘with a bullet.’ That could very well describe Louis Michel’s rapid ascension into the ranks of Burgundy’s elite producers.

Of the others, most of the scores are self-evident; the ‘A’ffected wines were both slightly corked, and the ’02 Coche disappointing (or just overly masked), as I am a big fan of their Puligny”¦have to try that one again!

There are two wines that I will share my full notes on”¦the Dujac and the Kola”¦.just because.

The 2005 Dujac Clos de la Roche was an interesting follow-up, as 05s would have it, to the 2005 Ponsot Clos de la Roche that we had out of magnum in Switzerland. Whoa! I know that drinking a magnum of that is infanticide, but when there are no bottles and only one magnum on a wine list, and the magnum is priced the same as bottles are already trading (and there are sixthirsty guests with us), what’s a wine lover to do? Drink the damn thing before someone else does, that’s what! The Ponsot was so concentrated and thick, brimming with every possible fruit imaginable that it felt X-rated just smelling it. However, on the palate, at least out of magnum, it was very shutdown and closed already and difficult to evaluate, although there was no doubting its potential greatness. I have to admit I felt bad about opening it, but then again, if I didn’t, someone else would have :). Ok, back to the Dujac”¦this was much more classic in its expression, its blackberry fruit mixing with the earth, the leather, the spice, the citrus and the rust. The blend of earth, pitch and spice were tremendous. The palate also had great definition, lip-smackingly good, with very defined acidity and fresh, balanced hints of citrus, green bean and mahogany spice. This was super stuff, already bordering on legendary. The nose was deep, deep inside, deep deep down inside (that’s for all you house music fans). Blackberry and cola joined the party, and the palate was so expressive, just popping out of its pants. Special stuff, and it will be sure to climb the point ladder in time (96+).

The 1864 Kola was something old, odd and rare dug up by the Rock. It was a Burgundy shaped bottle, and it barely had a label, just 1864 Kola in practically calligraphy on a small strip, very old in appearance and nature. What was inside was a glorious Madeira, but was it real Madeira, or actually Pinot gone wild? Perhaps the original recipe for Coca-Cola? Well, all that we will never know, but it was damn good, whatever it was, basically a Malmsey-style Madeira, thick and syrupy in its nose with aromas of baked, brown-sugared beans and sweet raisins. It was a definite sinus-cleaner, with a rainbow of nut aromas and flavors, macadamia meeting molasses. The owner of Ma Cuisine observed, ‘C’est bon, a little sweet but the alcohol (is impressive)”¦’ It was so rich, so concentrated and so full of alcohol, incredibly delicious, both hearty and soft at the same time, and a slice of history that will most likely never be seen again. Thanks to the Rock for that one (95).

Burgundy was beautiful, breathtaking for its scenery, wines and people behind them. I can’t believe it took me so long to visit. I will be back soon.

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.