Shanghai Nights

Greetings from Asia. I have begun my first tour of duty here in the Pacific Rim, and I started my trip off with a weekend in Shanghai. The fourteen plus hour flight did not seem so bad since I was able to sleep for close to nine hours of it; of course, that was only made possible by a miserable all-night catalog production the night before. I think I got home at 6am, and scraped myself out of bed at 9am, as there was much to do before departing that evening. Well, I made it, although the final proof of this catalog is still haunting me five days later. It’s a big one.

I was given a good tip to stay at the Grand Hyatt all the way throughout my seven city, three week tour, and the Grand Hyatt in Shanghai is housed within Shanghai’s tallest building, its lobby on the 54th floor. The views are accordingly spectacular and worth the trip alone; it is a sight to behold, looking out over all of Shanghai, an endless sea of a city, home to over 20 million people and growing everyday. The view from the Grand Hyatt made New York seem like, well, Chinatown, and with construction everywhere, there seems to be no sign of that changing anytime soon.

Many of you know of my close friendship with one of my fellow enthusiasts , wine collector extraordinaire, yet only a few of you know the Doctor’s older brother, who spends half his year in Shanghai. Since three out of the four wines we drank together were Chateau Margaux, we will now, at least temporarily, knight him, ‘Mr. Margaux.’

I arrived at 5am, worked my tail off until 11, and then had a lunch meeting, nap and then dinner with Mr. Margaux. Taxi drivers in Shanghai are the equivalent of a free ride at Great Adventure, one for which you definitely need to be at least ‘this high.’ Buckle up and hold on! They won’t understand a word you are saying either, so don’t bother to tell them to slow down. The difference between 229 and 299 was a five-minute discussion with plenty of sign language as we tried to find my destination’s building number.

Mr. Margaux took me to Jean Georges in order to ease my transition into the Eastern world. You know that a city is significant when a chef like Jean Georges opens up shop in it. I am sure we will see more of the same in the near future in Shanghai. Dinner was very good, and we had a bottle of Champagne and a bottle of Margaux to warm up our whistles on this busy Friday night.

If there is one thing you can count on in this world, it’s that you will find Dom Perignon in every major city in the world. What do they make of that stuff now, 4 million cases a year? Just kidding, Nicole, and it was good to see a familiar face on the wine list to start things off, 1996 Dom Perignon to be exact. Toasty, lean and racy, there was a bit of a white Burgundian, smoky complexity to the nose in this 1996 DP, along with distinct corn oil aromas. I have had a lot of variation with the ’96 already in its short life, but this was an excellent bottle, with flavors of rainwater, musk, toast and yeast. Of course, it had the vintage’s fantastic acidity, but the wine was just a touch square at the moment, a squareness that I am sure time will undo (94+).

The 1986 Margaux was about as open as this wine has ever been for me, possessing dense plum and cassis fruit, forward in its personality and more forgiving than most ‘86s I have had of late. The wine also had some noticeable oak in the nose, not offensive, yet noticeable, which is never something I would call a good thing, either. In time, the oak integrated well, however, and this was a perfumed ’86, actually charming and seductive. Make no mistake about it, there was still a very sturdy backbone of tannins and acidity behind it, but in a good posture kind of way, in that you don’t notice it until you see someone/thing without it. Mr. Margaux noted ‘flowers and earth.’ The palate was spicy, with vanilla and oakflavors most noticeable, a bit shy overall, yet its big acidity and dry tannins made their presence more known in the mouth than in the nose. Its long finish had earthy flavors, and its fruit was a bit dormant in the mouth, typical for most ‘86s at the moment. Mr. Margaux noted the ‘tannins and acid are most noticeable in ’86; it is a long-term vintage and relatively a bargain accordingly.’ He also admired the ‘elegance of the earth’ and the terroir of Margaux. The 1986 Margaux was a spiny wine, still unyielding in the mouth despite signs of charm and finishing school in the nose; it was definitely an iron fist, without the velvet glove just yet (94+).

Mr. Margaux took me on a tour of Shanghai’s nightlife after dinner, beginning with a walk through XinTianDi (translation New Heaven Earth). This area had plenty of pubs and shops and reminded me a bit of a college town atmosphere, with lots of community eating and drinking and a buzz in the air. There were also plenty of foreigners in this area, so it is a good place to visit when in Shanghai. Fellas, be prepared to be aggressively courted by many young women in Shanghai. For a country where pornography is illegal, one of the world’s oldest professions seems to be thriving. Not that I partook ”“ yes, I can hear the cascade of ‘yeah yeahs’ all over America, thanks guys, but I did get asked on eight occasions during the evening between here and a stroll up and down Heng Shan Lu, another area filled with local bars and restaurants, with more locals and less foreigners but still that college town feel. It was a fun night, one that ended up at Bar Rouge, one of Shanghai’s top night clubs, where we proceeded to conduct a Champagne head-to-head matchup of Krug Grande Cuvee versus 1999 Cristal.

The Krug was delicious, as always, and I actually preferred it to the DP. Its balance, flavors, length and style were everything I could ask for in a quality Champagne. There is no doubt that the ‘Multi-Vintage’ Krug Grande Cuvee is the best buy in all of luxury Champagnes. Every home should have at least four six-packs on hand! Stop thinking Champagne is for special occasions; Champagne is for every occasion (95).

The 1999 Cristal was extra special, extraordinary in its combination of elegance and power. Its flavors were crisp, clean and intense, long and stylish with superb acidity that did not get in the way of the purity and style of the wine. It was integrated despite its extraordinary length. Its aromas of lightly toasted bread, corn and minerals danced around our table aptly with all the young ladies the Champagne seemed to attract. I love it when that happens. We danced the night away, so I was able to skip the morning workout (97).

Day two saw a couple of more meetings for me. The wine market in China is still in its infancy, and despite a big buzz in America about ‘China China China’ when it comes to wine and especially Lafite Rothschild, premier grand vin of choice of the Chinese, there is still a long way to go for fine wine to become a part of the everyday culture here. Those of you more interested in hearing about it can take me out to some dim sum in NYC! Speaking of which, on my second night in Shanghai, Mr. Margaux treated me to some local cuisine before heading to ”“ yikes ”“ a karaoke bar. Damnit, here it was, only my second night in Asia, and I was already in some karaoke place. There is no way I was taking the microphone, I knew that already. I can drop the hammer, but I can hardly carry a tune. At least this was a private club with private rooms, so if it got ugly, the embarrassment would be minimal. Mr. Margaux held court with some more wines from his cellar and a few friends.

The main event was the always-interesting match-up of ’95 versus ’96 Margaux. The 1995 Margaux had a soft, seductive nose, which was still wide in its aromatics. It had a delicate perfume yet was still forceful with its nut, cassis and mineral aromas. T ‘n a oozed out of its glass after a lot of coaxing, yet the wine never lost its balance. There were nice earth and toast elements underneath, rounding out the nose. The palate had outstanding spice and acidity. It was long and smooth, seductive and charming with a nice minerality to its finish. Pure and classic, the palate maintained the gymnast-worthy balance of the nose admirably (95).

The 1996 Margaux had a spicier nose; its tannins and alcohol jumped out right away compared to the charm and tickle of 1995. There was more of a cedary whiff to its profile. The personality of the nose was strict and stern, spiny and long, deep and dungeon-y. There was definitely some spank to the ’96; it was as if little miss ’95 went home after work and put on the full black leather outfit and let her hair down, whip in hand. The palate was enormous compared to the ’95, with a tidal wave of a finish and massive acidity and gritty, dry tannins. Its length was superb; this is easily a 50-100 year wine, and after some time, even some dense fruit developed. Superb stuff (97).

There was one last wine to the weekend, and it was a 1998 Lafleur. The Lafleur had a deep, intense nose full of chunky, meaty Pomerol fruit. Chocolate, graham cracker crust and black and blueberries were present as well. There was a balancing beam of anise with an exotic edge to its fruit, almost tropical but not quite. The nose was also full of iron, complementing its meat and game. The palate was huge, enormously endowed, wound and a bit unforgiving. In another twenty years, it will be forgiven for sure! Game, twisted t ‘n a, plum, anise, mineral, that Pomerol kink and that exotic Lafleur edge to the fruit were all there. It was another spectacular, 50-100 year wine (96+).

Somehow we ended up at Bar Rouge again, and they were out of Krug, so we did the 1998 Dom Perignon versus the 1999 Cristal. It was not much of a contest, but the DP was pleasant, smooth and easy to drink (91). As I admired the women that had surrounded us in the club, Mr. Margaux gave me some wise advice, an old Chinese proverb. ‘It is ok to squeeze the milk, but don’t take home the cow.’

Shortly thereafter, I went home, cowless, but on my way out, I was reminded that Shanghai is still a tale of two cities. For all the construction, excitement and energy in the city, there is still a great deal of poverty as well. Outside of the club, there were mothers with their young children in tow, using them to beg for money. A young boy got on his knees in front of me, and I couldn’t help but give him something, I mean, he had to only be seven or eight years old. So I reached into my pocket and peeled off 100 RMB, the Chinese equivalent of thirteen US dollars, and he started screaming at the top of his lungs as if he had just scored the winning goal in overtime of the World Cup final. There were instantly more than a dozen other beggars heading my way, and I was whisked away into a taxi before getting stampeded. It is a memory that will never leave me.

One of New York’s most renowned and important collectors celebrated his 50th birthday in fine fashion recently at Bouley’s private ‘Test Kitchen’ here in New York City. David was at the top of his game for the twenty-some-odd courses that came out. Although the tables were set, it ended up being more of a cocktail party, with the cocktails being some of the 20th century’s greatest wines, mostly in magnum, many brought by the eager invitees. It was a fitting celebration for a gentleman whose cellar is already fit for a king.

There wasn’t much white wine to be had on this summery afternoon, but there were three significant samples to warm up with, beginning with a magnum of 1989 Jadot Chevalier Montrachet Les Demoiselles. For the rest of this article, unless I say otherwise, the wine was served from magnum. The Jadot was alcoholic at first, wound out of magnum. Aromas of corn oil, butter and caramel fought through along with mild citrus flavors, light tang and smoke. It was a bit monolithic but still rich and buttery, excellent overall. Cotton candy aromas and apple flavors developed (93M).

A magnum of 1986 Ramonet Montrachet had a sweet and pure nose, with the style, balance, depth and reserve that only Montrachet could have. Its sweetness in the nose was buttery in the usual style of the vintage. The palate was rich, heady and alcoholic; a touch square yet still stellar. Baked bread crust aromas and flavors joined the party. Big, buttery and brawny, there was an alcoholic pop to its finish (94+M).

After a little air, the 1989 Ramonet Montrachet revealed aromas of classic mint, sweet cream and white fruits. There was almost a hint of jasmine to the nose, but not quite, and Ray added ‘lavender but not quite.’ Charcoal and ‘sage’ (Ray again). made appearances as well. Again big, brawny and buttery, both Montrachets proved young out of magnum, and a little square as a result (95+M).

The first red was probably the day’s most controversial, and probably deservedly so since it was a 1870 Lafite Rothschild. a close friend of mine was doubting the 1870 part of the wine right away but still found it ‘Lafite, sweet and almost Burgundian.’ Now I have been blessed to have an original bottle of 1870 Mouton once, a bottle that was spectacular. This wine was not that and clearly reconditioned. After that, unfortunately, it is anyone’s guess anyway as to what the wine really is. Could it have had some 1870 in it? I thought so, but for something that old to have as much youth as it did bothered some. However, its older qualities still took center stage. There was a lot of tobacco in the nose along with old book and cedar. Its flavors were gravelly. There was not a ‘whole lotta’ acidity, but there was lushness, and it had that old Lafite character. Its finish was chalky and minerally, and its flavors had an old cobweb feel despite a sweet cherry core. Slate and citrus also emerged on its lightly gritty finish. It was definitely Lafite, probably some 1870, and still an interesting wine but not the earth shatterer it was supposed to be (91M).

A 1945 Vogue Musigny Vieilles Vignes was unfortunately a touch oxidized. It still had tender, soft, old fruit and complex aromas of cloves, cinnamon, hoisin BBQ and earth. Tender, old and endearing, this magnum was not dead yet, though definitely in a nursing home. Pleasant rose and citrus flavors and a nice, lip-smacking finish rounded out this salty old magnum. a close friend of mine felt it was about 65% of what it was supposed to be (93A-M).

Despite stumbling out of the gate a little, all was soon well after a pair of 1962 Burgundies were opened, beginning with a 1962 Vogue Musigny Vieilles Vignes. Hello, Doctor. The nose had gorgeous perfume, hauntingly elegant yet still backed by some hybrid of sweet cherry oil, liqueur and fruit. Sweet and creamy, there was tender cherry fruit and cinnabon flavors along with traces of oat and wheat. Round, satiny and smooth; long, exotic and gorgeous, the 1962 Vogue was a knockout (97M).

The 1962 Ponsot Clos de la Roche Vieilles Vignes was an equal match, yet a totally different style. Eddie admired its ‘meaty and bloody’ personality, while I its great, rich, chocolaty fruit. There were loads of iron and vitamins in this healthy wine, and wicked cherry tang, all coming together in a nose of exquisite pitch. Its flavors were citrusy and vimful, perfectly balanced with its beef and earth notes. Great, exotic chocolate flavors rounded out this spectacular wine, although most including Ray and Shelley were in the Vogue camp if forced to pick a preference (96M).

The 1978 Ponsot Clos de la Roche was no match for the ’62. Its nose was musty, dirty and earthy, a bit off. Its flavors were bright with citrus and earth, however, with hints of chocolate. There was good balance to its solid palate, but the wine soon got lost and forgotten amongst the greatness uncorked that afternoon (92M).

It was Ponsot again, this time the extra-terrestrial 1959 Ponsot Clos de la Roche Vieilles Vignes. Its nose oozed out gorgeous, cherry fruit, that forward, warm, sweet fruit of 1959. Breadcrust, earth, sand and cement were behind its sweet core. The palate was superb with incredible vigor and spice. Its acidity and alcohol were alive and kicking more than Mick Jagger, and its rich, lush and smooth personality won the whole crowd over. Dust and citrus flavors competed with its gamy overall flavor profile. It was pretty much everyone’s favorite wine of the afternoon so far. Smooth yet complex, it was a tasty book of knowledge. Rob called it ‘on a different level.’ I commented to a close friend of mine how I do not think this wine will ever reach the heights of that one bottle we shared last October, to which he replied that ‘the first time is always better.’ The second, actually make that at least the third, time was still a charm (97+M).

We were back on the ’62 wagon with a 1962 Rousseau Chambertin. Like whoa. The Rousseau’s nose was unbelievable, and given three out of the last four wines, that was no easy task. Deep and meaty, the Rousseau’s nose clearly possessed the most power, and was the most ‘precise’ per a close friend of mine. Tom ‘loved the earthy elements.’ Minerals, vitamins and a touch of lit match rounded out its nose. Its palate was full of stems, meat and vitamins, possessing great length, breed and style. Tom called it the ‘breed of the day,’ and he would know, being not all that far from Churchill Downs a lot of the time (98M).

A 1962 Romanee Conti was both thrilling yet also disappointing. It had an incredible nose full of earth, beef, menthol, spice, date, autumnal forest floor and black cherry cola. Yes, it was complex. Jennifer picked up on ‘apricots,’ and they were totally there. Absolutely delicious at first, there was rich and meaty fruit that quickly morphed into more of a figgy quality. Spice and apricot jam were on its finish, and bouillon came out along with ‘burnt coffee’ (Tom). Although this bottle flashed brilliance, it was ultimately slightly oxidized, and as a result it did not have much staying power in the glass, quickly falling in stature (95A-M).

Our first regular-sized bottle was a 1966 Lafleur. Keeping up with the Joneses aka the Burgundies, the Lafleur also had a gorgeous nose, although it was a decided left turn with its Pomerol cream, chocolate and minerals. Rich, smooth and long with impeccable balance, the ’66 was in a beautiful spot (94).

A magnum of 1961 Latour was next, and I think it was the third time Eddie had had this wine out of magnum during the past month. When it rains, it pours. The wines were starting to come at a brisker pace, so I only have a brief note on this particular occasion. The Latour had a great palate, indubitably intense and full of its classic sea salt. Someone called it the one of the best mags of ’61 Latour they had ever had, and some huge argument broke out, most likely with Ray in the middle of it, or at least inciting the small riot (96M).

A 1945 La Mission Haut Brion settled things down. This particular magnum was reconditioned in 1989, and it reminded me somewhat of the 1870 Lafite with its reconditioned personality, and its similar aromas of gravel, old book and cedar. Its palate was much richer, quite hearty, big and powerful. It was almost a touch too big, but it leveled out with some air to provide an outstanding glass of wine (95M).

Bottles again appeared for a duo of Guigals, the first being a legendary needle in the haystack, a 1966 Guigal Cote Rotie La Mouline. The notes were getting more and more illegible, but I still managed to observe superb cedary dust, minerals, chocolate and earth. The bottle was a little shook up and the wine murky accordingly, but there was still olive, game, menthol and bacon to this delicious and decadent bottle of La Mouline. I have had better bottles, but this one was still superb (96).

A 1978 Guigal Cote Rotie La Landonne was also delicious, stony and with big-time earth and spice. Robust and rocky, the La Landonne was a bit rugged and square after the sensuous ’66 La Mouline, but it was still round, rich and long (95).

A bottle of 1961 Haut Brion was absolutely delicious, full of decadent chocolate, coffee and caramel. There was also earth in the delicious bottle of delicious wine; I couldn’t stop writing the word ‘delicious’ (96).

The end was near, as we finally left France with a pair of Unico magnums. The 1968 Vega Sicilia Unico was rich and smooth with that leathery kink unique to the wines of Spain. Ben found it ‘rustic,’ and someone else observed ‘faint raspberry’ (95M).

The 1970 Vega Sicilia Unico had a great nose full of leather and peanut. Robert admired its ‘Bordeaux-like’ personality. Deep, rich, sweet and intense, the 1970 outshone the 1968 for the first time when I have had them side by side”¦I think (96M).

Last but not least was a magnum of 1900 Yquem. ‘Caramel sex heaven’ seemed like an accurate descriptor at the time and also a good place to be going right about then. It could have been considered old to some, but mature and wise to others like me (95M).

That’s it and that’s all. Eddie, I have always thought 51 as a more significant number to celebrate than 50. And then there’s 52 of course”¦

Kansas City, there I came, for an evening of 1947 Bordeaux assembled by one of the Midwest’s top connoisseurs, Mark. When it comes to Kansas City and wine, there is only one Mark. It was actually a wine weekend, but I could only get away for a Saturday night due to a June catalog production that was running late, so I missed the Burgundies. Our June auction is another phenomenal sale, I might add, and should be a fun one since it will be held on Wednesday evening, June 27th.

But I digress. It was the 60th birthday of a close friend of Mark’s, and that was enough reason for ten or twelve of us to gather in Kansas City, including Tennessee Tom and the original Good Doctor of Ohio. The Midwest’s own Axis of Wine had convened, and I was merely an innocent bystander for an evening of exceedingly rare 1947 Bordeaux.

We started out with a magnum of 1979 Deutz Cuvee William Deutz, courtesy of THE Cellar, as a matter of fact. It was a fantastic magnum, absolutely delicious, toasty and creamy. Its nose was light yet meaty and had superb musk. The finish was long and dry, elegant and stylish. There was still nice richness and great bubbles to this excellent bubbly. Mark admired its ‘toasty and yeasty’ qualities as well, and Michael found it ‘very fine.’ It flirted with being outstanding but ultimately fell a hair short, but this was still a delicious bubbly (94M).

We sat down to a pair of whites, beginning with a 1947 Thevenin Montrachet. It had a very good nose of wheat, vanilla, rainwater, grain, corn and a pat of butter. The palate was dusty and wheaty with a mini citrus bomb of flavors, which were quickly replaced by ones of morning mouth on the finish. It was still pleasant with its old flavors up front, and Michael called it ‘a slow burn,’ ie, that it would get better in the glass. It did and the morning mouth blew off butnever quite left (91).

The 1947 Laville Haut Brion had a dark amber color but was perfectly fine. Old white Bordeaux, whether sweet or dry, still seem to be good when they have this darker color, perhaps the only wine that could be said for. Someone remarked, ‘waxy nose, the Semillon pushes through.’ It had a nice honeycombed nose, with more mahogany wood aromas, and a sweet, almost pencil-y edge. Its musk was insane, and a touch of yeast almost rounded out the nose. There was also this dried, old peach/apricot thing trying to fight through that couldn’t quite make it all the way. Its palate was rich and textured, yeasty, and there were nice earthy flavors, and its acidity really came out on the finish (93).

There was a backup bottle, and even though we technically did not need a backup, Mark pulled the cork without hesitation. That was a good thing, as it was a 1976 Montrachet. Its nose was sweet and minty, exotically sweet like a guava. Tom added, ‘green honeydew melon,’ and corn was there as well. Tom also noted an ‘iron element.’ The palate was big-time; buttery and rich with a minerally dry finish. It was an impressive ’76 and had me wondering if the whites might have an edge over the reds in this decent, yet not incredibly desirable vintage. Dave, our birthday boy, noted, ‘rich, silky, spicy, cloves.’ Sweet caramel also came out in this excellent white (94+).

It was time for the reds, beginning with a St. Julien and two St. Estephes. The 1947 Leoville Las Cases had a nutty, cassisy nose with nice minerality, but this metallic edge was lurking underneath, and it came out more with air. In the mouth, rusty tang and citrus dominated this intense wine that was still full of vim. Secondary aromas and flavors of horseradish came out; the metal blew off into a hypothetical combination of Dr. Brown’s Cream soda and caraway without quite having either (93).

The 1947 Montrose was a Nicolas bottle and had ‘lead pencil and blue plums,’ according to Tom, who also added, ‘dirt.’ Its fruit was meaty, gamy, fatty and full of iodine and reminded me of foie gras and duck skin. Its old book flavors still had meat and richness. Its finish was very dusty with lemon twists. There was a touch of metal, too. Tom called its fruit ‘green,’ and this was a very good but not fantastic bottle of ’47 Montrose, qualitatively close to the Las Cases despite its different style (92).

The 1947 Calon Segur was clearly the wine of the flight, possessing more wheat, chocolate, musk and oat. It had chunky, deep, wheaty fruit, along with ‘lead pencil’ and ‘iron.’ Its palate literally crushed the other two wines. Thick, rich, heavy, big and brawny, the 1947 Calon Segur was rich, earthy, tasty, long and basically spectacular (96).

A trio of First Growths were next, beginning with a 1947 Margaux. The Margaux had a gorgeous nose with tender red fruits, citric pinches, meat, caramel and kisses of old book. Its core was still sweet cassis, and its palate was rich and spiny with loads of old book, citrus, dust and excellent length. It was pretty yet vigorous, yet also softened sooner in the glass than one might hope. Tom called it, ‘the best ’47 Margaux I have had,’ also observing ‘band-aid and coconut’ (93).

The 1947 Lafite Rothschild Frank found ‘disappointing,’ but I liked its nose of pencil, cedar, cassis, nut and swimming pool. It seemed classic Lafite to me. Its palate was very old book and citrus, possessing a bright finish. The wine was nice and clean but a touch simple, and metal emerged in a bothersome way, so Frank’s comments seemed to be about the palate and the nose (91).

The 1947 Mouton Rothschild was, as always, great. Many bottles of ’47 will outshine many bottles of ’45. Tom immediately gave it ‘20 point wine’ and ‘world champion.’ There was incredible richness to the nose; it was so meaty and rich, possessing an unbelievable caramel and cassis core, along with the signature ’47 kiss of menthol. In the mouth, it was so rich, so spicy and so long that it was obviously extraordinary. After the Mouton, it was tough to go back to the other wines in the flight. Its nuttiness was divine, its balance perfect, and it was creamy, rich and lush with a cherry on top (97).

A trio of Right Bank wines completed our reds for the night, led off by a 1947 Clinet. Tom took the lead with ‘cherry cola and sweet, candied fruit.’ That was it, I must admit, Tennessee Tom always gets a hit. He’s also a fan of limericks”¦ok, I better stop there before you hear about the girl from Cameroon”¦There were also touches of tobacco leaf and earth to go with its super plums. Cobwebs crept into the glass like it does into corners of big barns. Tangy, dusty, earthy, citrusy, cherry-y-y, the Clinet was smooth, held well and delivered (93).

A 1947 Petrus was a curious fellow. It had a meaty and gamy nose full of cassis, chocolate, blackberry and boysenberry. Nuts, dates and figs joined the party. It was smooth and satiny, soft and medium-rich. I definitely got some Petrus and some ’47 in the wine, but I was not 100% sure about this bottle, and it certainly did not deliver the incredible experience that I have had three or four times (92?).

The 1947 Cheval Blanc was rich and meaty with signature wintergreen, game and motor oil. It separated itself from the Pomerols and never looked back. Nut, mint, did I say wintergreen? Port-like, rich and superb, the Cheval was a great bottle of this wine (97).

I am not a big dessert wine guy. Although I do love the aromatics and flavors, I just find the sugar too much for my system, especially after a dozen plus other wines. Alcohol is sugar,after all, in the end. The 1947 Huet Vouvray Haut Lieu Moelluex 1er Trie reminded someone of the fact that his second wife drove him to drink, and he never even thanked her. Yes, that is my tasting note for this wine (91).

The 1947 Schloss Vollrads Riesling Trockenbeerenauslese was a little corked but one of the best corked wines I ever had, oh so rich and so full of molasses that ‘smother’ and ‘sex’ came to mind (96A).

The 1947 Yquem is a great Yquem, but it suffered by being served after the TBA. Now repeat after me, I will never serve yquem after a TBA. I will never serve Yquem after a TBA. I will never serve Yquem after a TBA. Dorothy was ready to go, so I called for a cab, before two lovely ladies recognized me from CSI NY. You didn’t know (94?)?

It was back to NY, and off to LA two days later, and the catalog still needed to get done, damnit.

A Double-Blind Dinner of a Lifetime, Big Boy Style

Rob had been planning this event seemingly all his life, and twelve very fortunate guests were invited to the private room at Cru one innocent Spring evening for this once-in-a-lifetime event, making me the resident Chesire Cat. For those of you that might not know or forget, double-blind means you do not know the wines that you are being served. At all. Single-blind means you know the wines but not the order, and Big Boy’s usual generosity motivated me to come up with the triple-blind scenario for another evening, which is double-blind for the host as well, being that someone would select all the wines out of the host’s cellar without any say by the host. Now that would be true Big Boy Style :).

There was only one clue given to us before the festivities began, and that was ‘pre-war.’ After some clarification that it was not Iraq or Vietnam as our reference point, but rather World War II, we started off with some Champagne. A quick asterisk emerged; the pre-war theme would not extend to the Champagne segments of our evening.

The first magnum of Champagne had a stunning nose of sweet white chocolate and dry orange marmelade. Seven Up, rainwater and a drop of honey oozed out as well. We started out with a bang, I wrote, and I was thinking Cristal at first. It was very fresh with great granulated sugar flavors. Robert Bohr appreciated the fact it was ‘tondu,’ or tight and tense with structure. Gentleman Jim noticed some ‘peanut,’ and there was a kiss of Sprite citrus on its sweet finish. Exotic apricot flavors rounded out this stunning and sweet Champagne. After a myriad of misses by the guessing crowd, it was revealed to be a Krug Private Cuvee from the 1960s, basically the same wine they call Multi-Vintage today, but from a batch released in the 1960s meaning this was a blend of vintages from the 1940s and 1950s. Krug releases different batches of the Multi-Vintage every decade and to the Krug family, it is their greatest masterpiece. This was certainly an impressive testament to that fact, and they should release more batch information and mark their bottles accordingly (96M)!!!

Another magnum of bubbly came out, obviously Rose, also very fresh with aromas of cherry, strawberry and chocolate. It was much earthier in its nose yet still floral despite a big, brawny style overall. It was a bit of a bruiser but still kept it together with a long and stylish finish. There were earth and chocolate flavors, ‘wild strawberries’ per Robert. It didn’t have the sweetness of the Krug, but the 1969 Dom Perignon Rose was still an excellent Champagne (93M).

Those were the aperitif Champagnes, and now came the first official flight, consisting of four bubblies.

The first had white chocolate, nut, earth and honey in its nose, and a bit of wildflower and acacia to that honey in its reserved nose. Blossoms, rainwater and almost a cocaine-like edge also graced its aroma profile. Its flavors were very dirty and its texture wine-like, creamy and earthy, fully mature, Chardonnay-like in its sweet flavors. A hint of cork disturbed the palate, but despite the advanced quality to the bottle, it was still regarded by most to be the best of this flight. It was a 1962 Charles Heidseick British Cuvee (93A).

The second bubbly of this flight, which was accompanied by enough Iranian Gold Osetra Caviar to feed a seven nation army, had an exotic wildflower nose that also featured light caramel, a touch of honey and some pinches of granulated sugar. Smooth with light grit on its finish, there was a touch of earth, but this did not seem overly complex, merely mortal and only pleasant. It was dry upfront, and its taut, citrus flavors were redeemed only by a long finish. It was a 1959 Philipponat Clos des Goisses, and this was incredibly inconsistent with aspectacular bottle of this that I had had within the prior two months (91).

The third Champagne of this flight was served out of magnum but oxidized, not unbearably so but enough to make even a wine necrophiliac think twice (DQ). It was a 1962 Roederer. Too bad. Shit happens. Tomorrow’s another day. Get over it, get up and walk it off, will ya?

The last bottle in this flight was an incredibly rare one, a 1959 Roederer Cristal. It had a great, pure nose with traces of smoke, citrus, marinated white meat, musk, ‘hazelnut’ (Jim) and just a kiss of sherry. Round, delicious and mature, it was softer and rounder than I had hoped, and there was a bit of morning mouth on the finish that disturbed its up-front deliciousness, kind of like a good kiss that turned into some bad tongue. Big Mike wasn’t digging it, and I didn’t mind the necro flavors, but it, too, seemed advanced and not as fresh as it should have been (93A).

It was a bumpy flight, but there would be no excuses made for this quartet of Champagne. ‘Excuses are like assholes; everyone’s got one and they all stink,’ our host quickly pontificated. It was time for some wine.

Our first wine had a tangy, intense nose. There was rose, citrus and a Chambertin-like intensity. Too bad it wasn’t Burgundy! Musk, deep dark black fruits, earth and tobacco leaf all graced its complex nose. It has a ‘wow’ palate; rich and intense with that spiny, flexing, peacock’s tail action on its finish; it had great backside. Its fruits were very dark and dank, and peanut and citrus crept out more and more along with mocha and minerals. After a few minutes, everyone was in the Pomerol camp, but no one was in the 1900 camp. It was a Nicolas Reserve bottling of 1900 L’Eglise Clinet. What was told to me is the Nicolas Reserve wines were reconditioned right before their final release. Definitely showing more youthful signs of that fact, it was still a stunning wine (96).

The second wine of this flight had a complex nose of olives, garden, rose, citrus, wax and smoke. Its palate was smooth and soft, easy like Sunday morning. The nose gained this sushi-like sweet complexity, and Ray picked up on ‘lavender.’ There was nice acid to its rusty finish and also a lot of exotic spice. ‘If anything is Cheval, it’s this,’ Ray asserted, and it was a 1900 Cheval Blanc, also a Nicolas Reserve bottling. I have been fortunate to have been blown away by a spectacular bottle of this wine, and although it displayed more and more signature Cheval and was many’s favorite wine of the flight, I found this bottle to not live up to my memory of this wine (94). I should add that both Rob and a close friend of mine thought that by the end of the night, the 1900 Cheval was legendary and 6 star status. I did not get to taste it at that much later stage.

The third and final wine of this flight had a very oaky nose, a bit offensive with its wood at first, possessing lots of cedar and eucalyptus that was over-aggressive. Big Boy grumbled how I never like this wine, anyway. Some fruit and garden aromas tried to fight through. Its palate was more, well, palatable with nice round, plum flavors. The wood started to blow off, and the wine became richer and more concentrated in the glass, ultimately revealing some great concentration. This was a wine that needed more time in the glass, and that is the one disadvantage about these scenarios where lots of wines are served in only tasting pours. However, it is better to have loved and lost, as they say. The oak got less and less, and the finish became downright explosive in this 1900 Margaux. The Margaux was also a Nicolas Reserve bottling, completing the trilogy of this esteemed first flight. It was also from a high-to-mid shoulder filled bottle (92+).

The evening was of to a pretty good start, but the next flights would prove even more thrilling. The first wine of our second flight of wine had a decadent nose. Exotic mint jumped out in this deep, intense and long nose. Spine, spice and citrus twists gave way to an exotic baked muffin quality and more twists, this time of olive. Chocolate shavings snowed out of its nose as well. Delicious and smooth, the wine offered up great earth and mocha flavors with citrus kisses. Smooth and satiny, it reminded me of ’45 Lafleur but was actually a 1921 Latour a Pomerol. It softened a bit in the glass, not to be unexpected for an 86 year-old wine (94).

The next wine was similarly decadent with great plum and mocha aromas, and the spine of a sexy model. Brick, chocolate and garden edges complemented the chocolate croissant city that was building in the glass. Rich, concentrated and long, there were amazing chocolate and motor oil flavors to this super concentrated wine. I guessed 1947 Petrus and was immediately reprimanded for ignoring our one clue for the evening. Ray was also thinking 1947, but rather Cheval due to the motor oil quality. The intensity and length held and expanded in the glass for this spectacular bottle of 1928 Latour a Pomerol (97).

Keep in mind that all of the wines’ identities were revealed after the entire flight was tasted and discussed, so it was not obvious at the time of note-taking that it was a Latour a Pomerol flight. ‘Left Bank for sure,’ an anonymous taster decided about our third wine here :). It was very spiny and gamy at first with a touch of hay/compost action, in a good way if that is possible. There was a bit of windex here, aka reconditioning gone wild. However, that blew off with air as it usually does. The wine was incredibly rich, concentrated and long in the mouth revealing citrus and polished cedar flavors. More animal came out, and it maintained its vigor, gaining and expressing in the glass. It was a 1929 Latour a Pomerol (95).

I should add that all of the Latour a Pomerol bottles were reconditioned in the 1970s.

As if that wasn’t enough, the next flight took it up another notch, also all Nicolas Reserve bottlings. Cigar jumped out of the nose, accompanied by some George Clinton chocolate funk. It became distinctive chocolate Tootsie Pop, and Wendy similarly picked up on ‘thick molasses.’ Exotic fresh grass balanced out this Big Boy ‘100 point’ wine. Its palate was long and great, ‘sweet’ per Wendy and full of chalk and minerals. Delicious, this 1921 Petrus maintained both its balance and its grace (97).

The 1928 Petrus was even better. It had the garden, the earth, the plum and the chocolate. It was a quadrafecta of a nose, paying off big-time to anyone that had a glass. Robert Bohr noted ‘chocolate covered cherries,’ and its flavors also had that chocolate Tootsie Pop quality of the 1921, but this time in the mouth of Adriana Lima. Someone found it ‘exotic and Burgundian.’ The concentration of the 1928 was a notch up from the ’21, possessing a bit more intensity despite the similar overall style. Big Boy gave it 99 points, and I was very close in my opinion as well (98+).

The 1929 Petrus was caramel sex in the nose, possessing a ‘Jaegermeister pinch of herbs’ per King Angry, aka Ray. Its palate was tender and delicious, and its caramel and herb flavors were 3-star Michelin worthy. Its volatile acidity was noticeable yet softened (95).

Now over the past ten years, I have had enough original bottles that are seventy years and older to know that none of these first nine wines would be considered ‘pure.’ And I also know that I am not a fan of reconditioning in general, and in the context of wine fraud as a topic, it can be argued that this practice,conducted by the Chateaux, Domaines and Negociants themselves over the course of the past hundred years, could be considered the greatest wine crime of the century. However, as I have said before, this does not mean that reconditioned bottles cannot still provide thrilling experiences, as these wines all did. All of these wines retained much of their original character, and many people might even enjoy them more than an original bottle. Reportedly, Nicolas used to recork their bottles every fifteen years with the same wine from the same vintage, keeping the wines fresher. Some of the best bottles that I have ever had have been Nicolas wines. When dealing with reconditioning, it always comes down to the batch. So that is not always that.

A trio of Champagnes provided an intermezzo. The first bubbly had a great, sexy nose full of granulated sugar, bread and exotic nut. At first, it was ‘like whoa.’ Wine-like on its palate, the acidity was still there but not the petillance. Unfortunately, there was morning mouth flavors on the finish, and this 1938 Krug Private Cuvee was, indeed, oxidized despite its initial sex appeal (92A).

The next Champagne had everyone oohing and aahing with its white chocolate nose and incredible palate. Big, spiny and fresh yet still mature, it was smooth and superb. As Wendy summed it up, ‘It is a 60 year-old woman in a 25 year-old body.’ The mature, yellow flavors were delicious in this 1949 Krug Collection, from a bottle whose fill was below the foil (98)!

What a honeyed nose the third bubbly had. Its honey had an exotic and homemade non-FDA-approved quality, like Winnie the Pooh caught in a nightclub. There were fresh, granulated sugar flavors to this smooth and sexy beast, prompting Big Mike to call Krug ‘the Yquem of Champagne.’ It was a Krug, a magnum of 1952 Krug, to be exact. It was the bottle with the serial number of ten, making it all the more special of an experience (95M).

It was back to the reds, beginning with a wine that had insane baby’s bottom to its nose, in a your-own-child’s-first shit kind of way. Gentleman Jim loosened up the tie with ‘a fresh line of”¦,’ and trailed off, and his femme fatale Wendy added ‘sweaty sex on the beach’ and ‘salty chocolate balls.’ The party had officially begun. King Angry likes to party in his own way, in that ‘parmesan cheese with suntan lotion’ way. Old and soft, this crazy wine had book and citrus traces in the mouth along with old wood. The ass blew off, but the intensity went nowhere in this 1921 Clos des Lambrays (90).

The second wine, which was actually supposed to be the first wine (but I tasted in opposite order), had a deep, decadent nose. Tar, citrus, earth, candle wax, spice, citrus, old book and a splash of Worcestershire were all present in its complex nose. The palate was classic with great rust and a long, spiny finish. Cedar, citrus and rust formed a formidable trifecta of flavors in this 1919 Clos des Lambrays (95+).

The 1934 Clos des Lambrays rounded out this flight. ‘Rusty,’ Ray remarked, and ‘serious mushroom,’ observed Wendy. I got the mushroom in more of a broth way, along with mint julep. The flavors were mushroom as well in this smooth, long and soft wine. Its finish was a little bookwormy and its flavors a touch old. Citrus twists, leather and spine emerged, and the wine gained in the glass (93).

The next flight began with a wine that made me write, ‘We can end right here.’ The nose was insanely good. Spiny menthol, citrus, rose heaven and cherry bombs blew the last flight away in hostile takeover fashion. ‘Insane nose’ appeared again in my notes, along with ‘a citrus Masters exam.’ The wine was so tangy, intense and long in the mouth, full of rust, brick, menthol and game flavors. Its spice and spine were extraordinary, as wasthis cereal-like complexity to its flavors, with the ‘concentration and power indicative of the vineyard,’ our gracious host cooed. It was a 1923 Liger-Belair La Tache. No wonder six bottles of this went for over $100,000 at Dr. Vino’s recent auction (98).

The next wine was much younger in its personality, a bit disturbingly so. There were oats, wheat, baked bread, plum, nut and chocolate in its flashy nose. Wendy picked up on ‘yellow bell pepper,’ and Ray found ‘stewed tomato.’ Big Boy observed ‘volatile acidity.’ This wine was clearly not pure and was the only wine of the night that I seriously questioned the authenticity. However, the next wine made me think that it was more of a bad reconditioning job. It was a 1923 Les Gaudichots (91?).

The third wine of this flight was serious again, possessing many similar traits of the Liger-Belair with a sprinkle of the best qualities of the Gaudichots. There were also oatmeal flavors to this smooth and soft 1923 Romanee Conti, a wine that also gained in the glass (94).

A 1923 Vogue Musigny was unfortunately heavily oxidized on arrival (DQ).

one of my fellow enthusiasts and Eddie finally arrived on the scene in better late than never fashion due to a prior conflict in schedule. They conveniently made it just in time for the wine of the night. The next wine was incredible and spectacular; that about sums it up. There were literally one thousand descriptors in the nose. Menthol, ‘sexy sausage,’ and ‘herbs de provence’(Jim) all made their way to the forefront of its sensational aromatics. Even Webster would have had a hard time describing the litany of aromas. As Robert Bohr observed, ‘the promise of the nose comes through on the palate,’ and its texture was, indeed, incredible. Eddie commented how ‘the precision is perfect.’ Jim admired how the wine had ‘another twenty or thirty years in it.’ Big Boy called it ‘surreal,’ and threw the ’23 Liger-Belair into that category. It was all of the above, and it was a bottle I have never seen before and probably never will again. It was a 1934 Richebourg Vieux Cepages, an old-vine Richebourg that made one barrel of in certain vintages between 1911 and 1937. Flavor Flav used to say ‘bring that beat back!’ Aubert, bring that wine back! What a thrill (99).

A 1934 La Tache was robust yet oxidized, and after the Vieux Cepages, I couldn’t go through the motions of taking notes for this affected bottle.  Ironically, the 1934 La Tache was probably the best looking bottle of the tasting going in  (92A).

The third wine of this flight was another ‘insane’ wine. The spine, rust, iodine and vitamin aromas and flavors were divine. Its finish was lengthy and full of breed. It was another incredible wine, this time a 1934 Romanee Conti, of course. While it was not the near-perfect bottle that I had from Roy at Cru eighteen months ago, it was still extraordinary, although a close friend of mine brought the No Joy, No Luck Club to the party with ‘not the energy and color of most ’34 RC’s.’ It was only my second time, and both times were spectacular, buddy (97).

The last wine of this flight stood out from the crowd as having a different personality and most likely a different producer, some reasoned. They were correct. There was large t ‘n a here, as ‘34s are prone to have, and its spiny nose had citrus, tea and blade-like aromas. The flavors were in a cherry oil direction, but the wine was a touch too spiny and a hair oxidized. It was not the near-perfect bottle I recently wrote up that I had with one of my fellow enthusiasts , Wilf and the Burghound in LA. Too bad, because there are probably only a handful of 1934 Roumier Musigny bottles left in the world (94A).

That last flight of Burgundies left me dazed and dizzy with admiration, yet a magnum of 1921 Ausone was up for the task of reminding the world that it is not only a Burg, Burg world. a close friend of mine admired ‘the richness of 1921,’ and the wine was pure sex in the nose, intense and ridiculously good. There was the meat, game and kink of St. Emilion here and that defining wintergreen to this ‘wow’ wine. Its flavors were also intense, full of menthol, meat, game and a long finish (97+M).

There was one more wine left to this legendary evening, and Wendy could not stop talking about it. It definitely had a newsworthy nose, and Wendy was doing her Money Honey impression in making sure that everyone got the latest breaking story. It was coiled in the nose, dangerously different from anything else that we had had so far, making it exciting. There was some wintergreen, cedar and medium spine in its long nose, and a super cherry core that crossed the border of framboise liqueur. Its finish exploded and lingered to the point where it felt like the first time. Its finish was huge, long, rusty, spiny and minerally; this 1934 Rayas Chateauneuf du Pape was the greatest old Rhone I have ever had. Move over, La Chapelle (98).

Somehow, two more Champagnes popped themselves open to celebrate an extraordinary evening of extreme generosity, one that I have only seen equaled by one of my fellow enthusiasts . The 1966 Taittinger Comtes de Champagne was so decadently butterscotchy and tropical that it felt like a Carribean vacation unto itself. Its flavors were crazy exotic, but it still showed the strength of the tree from where it came, whatever the heck that means. Cut me some slack, it was wine number 33 (95).

Lastly was the Champagne of the evening, at least for me, a 1966 Salon. Wound, intense and spiny like a Stegosaurus, the Salon was not happy to see anyone at first but slowly revealed itself. I grew to like this evil dungeon of a Champagne and its insane length and vitamin city flavors. Big, brooding and from one of the greatest vintages of the century for Champagne, the Salon answered all calls and proceeded to take many prisoners (98+).

Oh, what a night. It was ‘Big Boy Style’ meets ‘Deep Ocean.’ It was truly a testament to Rob’s cellar and the effort that he has made in building one of the greatest collections in the world today.

‘Huge C”¦’