Vintage Tastings

By John Kapon

Experience the finest and rarest wines in the world through the eyes and palate of Acker Chairman and globally renowned master taster, John Kapon (our “JK”). “Vintage Tastings” is a written journal chronicling the incredible bottles opened at some of the most exclusive tastings, wine dinners, and events all over the globe. These entries represent JK’s commitment to capturing and sharing the ephemeral nature and ultimate privilege of tasting the world’s rarest wines. Although ratings are based on a 100-point scale, JK believes there is no such thing as a 100-point wine. Point scores assigned to each wine are his own personal attempt to quantify the quality of each experience.

Happy Birthday Eddie

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”¦

In Vino Veritas,
JK

1947 Bordeaux

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.

In Vino Veritas,
JK

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

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”¦’

In Vino Veritas,
JK

1982 Bordeaux Retrospective at Age 25

2007 seemed like a perfect time to evaluate the legendary and getting-more-expensive-by-the-minute 1982s from Bordeaux. As the next universally ‘great’ vintage after 1961, 1982 represents the first big-time vintage of most of our wine lifetimes, and because of that fact it is hard to think of these wines as being ‘old,’ per se, yet these wines are now twenty-five years of age and approaching that thirty-to-forty year old sweet spot for great clarets where true greatness is achieved.

Originally, I was going to make this a weekend and have fifty or sixty wines from the vintage, but we ended up toning it down to twenty-five of the vintage’s best wines, both Left and Right Bank. It was a most enjoyable and fascinating evening, and I came out with a real perspective of this vintage and where it stands right now here in 2007. We played a bit of a spontaneous game and selected one word to describe each flight, and when you put all of these words together, I think it paints a clear picture of the vintage on its highest level, as well as two conclusions that are ‘can’t miss TV,’ so to speak. In addition, ten of the seventeen Left Bank wines were sourced directly from the Chateaux, creating an interesting side bar about provenance and wines being ‘ex Chateau.’ They weren’t cheap either. One of the two First Growths that we were able to get from the Chateaux came with a price tag of 1800 Euros! As far as getting Right Bank wines from the Chateaux, as Tony Soprano would say, ‘Fugghedaboudit.’

We started with three St. Juliens and a 1982 Ducru Beaucaillou. It had that classic Ducru nose of elegance, lead pencil and almost cardboard but not quite. There was nice spine, olive aromas and pungent fruit in this gritty ’82. It had a minerally palate with a nice spike of alcohol and a soft finish. Lush cassis eased on out in this smooth and stylish wine. Mike remarked how the 1982 Ducru is ‘amazingly consistent.’ It got more chocolaty and nicely spicy, gaining a point in my glass (94).

The 1982 Gruaud Larose (sourced from Chateau) was a contrast in style, possessing a beefy character and darker, deeper fruit. There was a touch of wild grass to this ‘pumped up Ducru,’ as King Angry, aka Ray, remarked, and a touch of cardboard as well. The Gruaud was spinier than the Ducru, both in the nose and on the palate, and its flavors were beefy and full of black fruits. There was a slight hole in the middle of the Gruaud, and Mike found it ‘a little square.’ John, our Australian ambassador, found ‘a touch of greenness,’ not that that was a negative in this case. It was Ray’s favorite of the flight; I guess big guys like big wines (93+).

The 1982 Leoville Las Cases (sourced from Chateau) had more noticeable oak in its nose along with supporting vanilla cream aromas. I actually did not mind the oak as much as I usually do when it is that noticeable. The palate clearly had the most structure and texture of the three, possessing class, length and style. Dan found it ‘seductive and violet.’ Ray found the Las Cases not as forthcoming and lush as the Gruaud. The more I tasted the three over and over again, the closer I found the quality to be amongst the three (95).

Speaking of lush, after Ray made that comment I wondered to myself, ‘Is the lushness of a great vintage like 1961 really here?’ Also, there was no real noticeable difference in the quality of the Ducru relative to the two wines sourced at the Chateau. We conferred for a minute about what single word could sum up this first flight and decided on ‘SEDUCTIVE.’

St. Estephe was next in line, beginning with an excellent 1982 Calon Segur (sourced from Chateau) , which had a great nose. There was excellent t ‘n a, chocolate, cassis and blackberry in this singing wine. It also had edge, spice and perfectly singed beef aromas. I was loving this wine. In the mouth, there were peanut flavors and solid t ‘n a to this long and minerally wine, but the nose was so exciting that the palate seemed almost a touch disappointing. Cassis and olive flavors came out in this still excellent wine (94).

The 1982 Montrose was extremely peanutty, also possessing ‘sesame,’ as Ray pointed out. It was aggressive in those regards, but I didn’t mind it. It had nice t ‘n a, and a little bull and its blood, too. There were more olive flavors in the mouth, a bit of brick and game, and a touch of that cardboard but excellent length. Australian John summed up the Montrose emphatically, calling it ‘a real prizefighter of a wine that will never give up. It will be there forever.’ Its spiny, alcoholic finish certainly said so (93+).

The 1982 Cos d’Estournel (sourced from Chateau) has always been one of my pet 1982s, and its nose was again a knockout. It had a little bit of every aroma that I have written so far in this article; just add tobacco. It was a rich, spiny wine with great structure. There was real breed here and despite a little burnt rubber in the nose, there was also gorgeous jasmine and spice. Long and stylish, the Cos had a nutty finish (95).

A few did guess the Montrose as being the one wine in this flight that was not from the Chateau, for what it’s worth. It did seem more mature in its profiles than the fresh Calon and Cos, but it was still what I would consider a sound bottle. When comparing the two ‘Saints’ of Bordeaux, I remarked how ‘St. Julien will kiss you while St. Estephe will spank you”¦and Ray will just beat you silly.’ I settled on ‘VIMFUL’ as the best word to describe this flight, which ruffled King Angry’s feathers, as he was quick to point out that vimful is not a word. Take it to Webster’s, buddy, because it’s in JK’s official dictionary of wine!

Pauillac was the next stop on our tour, beginning with a 1982 Grand Puy Lacoste. The GPL had a clean and pungent nose, a spiny edge with an indoor cleaner impression. There was a great, fat core of cassis wrapped in minerals and t ‘n a. It kept getting spinier. It had big, rich flavors of cassis and tea, as well as some tang without the citrus. Round, plush, smooth yet a bit square, the bigger, brawnier style of Pauillac made many stand up and take notice (92).

The 1982 Pichon Baron (sourced from Chateau) was a spectacular bottle of this wine. Its nose was noticeably sweeter with lilacs, lavender and purple honeysuckle aromas. There was a flamboyant intensity to its seductive nose, almost Right Bank-ish in its style. Dan called it ‘stony yet jammy,’ and referred to that combination as ‘the summit of Bordeaux.’ Long and stylish with nice spice and style, the wine was again more acidity than tannins, much like all of the wines so far. Dan found ‘fraise des bois’ flavors, and its finish was very stony. Ray and I quickly huddled for a consensus that 1982 was all about the acidity and had very soft tannins in general. Ray summed 1982 up already as ‘a Burgundian vintage for Bordeaux’ (95).

The 1982 Pichon Lalande (sourced from Chateau) was a disappointing bottle of this wine to me despite its perfect provenance. Its nose was full of animal and horse aromas and a healthy dose of wood like the Las Cases, but way too much so. This was not consistent with the greatest examples of this wine that I have had. It had some signature olive there, but this green, woody pungency dominated the wine’s aromatics. The pungency carried over to the palate, which did have a smooth and supple finish that also had a little ‘pop’ to it. However, in the end, this bottle was way too oaky for me, even though its texture was a redeeming quality. I will reiterate that I have had much better bottles, but this came from the Chateau (91)!

The 1982 Lynch Bages (sourced from Chateau) was classic Lynch all the way. I think it caused Australian John to whisper ‘oy oy oy’ under is breath! The wine was big, dark and almost medieval with a dungeon-like complexity. Beef and minerals dominated the nose, with supporting nominations to soy, salt and animal. Its earthy palate was salty and spiny with that indoor cleaner, fresh edge that reminded me of the 1989. Australian John commented how this flight was ‘a step up’ (95).

The flight of Pauillacs was summed up with ‘DRIVE’ as its word of the flight.

Graves was next, and a trio of Brions was on tap, beginning with the 1982 La Tour Haut Brion from the cellars of our own Dave Hamburger. The LTHB had a spiny, gravelly nose with lots of alcohol, cleaner and pungent intensity. There was a touch of pool chlorine and cinnamon stick spice, as well as some Cheerios in this complex wine. Cassis finally fought through and unfolded like origami once it did. Its palate was explosive, and this was the evening’s first, truly vigorous wine not only in acidity but also tannins. Flavors of cigar, plum, chocolate and dry minerals abounded in this superb bottle, although Australian John did not like that ‘varnishy’ quality (96+).

The 1982 La Mission Haut Brion got lots of oohs and aahs and such praise as ‘exceptional’ and ‘decadent.’ There was sweet perfume underneath a bed of cassis, plum and wildflower with a flash of ripe fruit. It was a bit coy on the palate, with its gravel buried in its fruit, and game and flower cased in tobacco and minerals. It was a great wine, but not the best bottle I have had, and I am a La Mission guy! Vigor came out with time in the glass on its minerally, stony and long finish (96).

The 1982 Haut Brion (sourced from Chateau) was very aromatic with a perfume of grape and cassis, also with peanut and game. There was that touch of Cheerios again, and Ray confirmed with ‘oats.’ The wine was spiny with a flash of ripeness, but the Haut Brion was definitely a step behind the other two Graves, but just a step, although it seemed on a faster evolutionary track than its two siblings. King Angry scoffed at that notion, saying that it has ‘been there for two decades.’ Australian John found it ‘fragrant and exotic.’ There was beautiful balance to this classy wine (94).

‘COMPLEX’ was the word of choice for our Graves flight.

We transitioned to the remaining four First Growths in the next flight, beginning with a phenomenal bottle of 1982 Margaux (sourced from Chateau). The Margaux had a pungent nose, and its t ‘n a jumped out at first. It also had cinnamon, iron, rock and gorgeous perfume. It was ‘beyond licorice’ according to Dan, and Australian John admired its ‘cherry liqueur.’ The palate was rocky without the horror but with the picture show, ‘not its usual feminine self,’ Ray observed. Though spiny and long, the Margaux was still stylish with a touch of that Maraux elegance. This was a great bottle of this wine, and it ended up being wine of the flight (97).

The 1982 Lafite Rothschild, most desirable Left Bank of the vintage according to the auction index, was, well, Lafite. Very shy at first (as always) , it was still stylish in a subtle way, long and penetrating. Its palate was smooth and soft with kisses of wood, leather and carob. Ray remarked, ‘It’s good but doesn’t ever blow me away.’ Australian John was a bit more optimistic, saying ‘it has to happen,’ meaning that it was not in a great spot just yet but will be (93).

The 1982 Mouton Rothschild (sourced from Chateau) had ‘coca cola’ in its nose per Ray. I saw what he was saying, and it was black cherry city. Its nose was divine with a great meaty perfume full of caramel, game, peanut, honey and decadent fruit. Rich yet more polished than I remember and expected, the palate seemed shut down relative to its orgasmic nose. Australian John found the palate ‘simple,’ but it kept gaining in the glass and was indubitably an outstanding wine (96).

The 1982 Latour was very vigorous and ‘mouthsearing,’ according to Ray. There was some barnyard in there to go with its deep, brooding walnut and pencil. It was a ‘metallic’ sentinel of a wine. Long and stylish on the palate, it was also a bit polished and ‘almost Barolo,’ someone noted. It gained in the glass as well but seemed shy (95+).

After a most heated debate where grace, finesse and polish were all nominated, we settled on ‘CLASS’ as the best word to describe these four First Growths.

It was time to cross the river to the Right Bank and experience a trio of St. Emilions. The 1982 Pavie had a nice nose full of spice, classic wintergreen and the redder fruits of St. Emilion. Delicious and classic, it was near outstanding with impeccable balance, great acidity and a nice kiss of olive. I may not like what they are doing now, but this was an impressive and classic ’82 (94).

The 1982 Ausone was slightly cooked, our nineteenth yet first affected or off bottle. Figgy and sweet with a yeasty and confectioners’ nose, there was nice spice and texture but the wine was clearly affected (91A).

The 1982 Cheval Blanc was also a touch figgy but also had a kaleidoscopic smorgasboard of aromatics. Despite its gamy edge, there was a lot of complexity behind it of very sweet red fruits and a caramel glaze. With a rich and round mouthfeel and a very concentrated palate, the Cheval was long and stylish with nice minerals, yet ‘consistently disappointing,’ as Ray observed, and I do concur with that. You know expectations are high when a 95-point rating is still disappointing (95).

We joked around that this flight needed two words to sum it up, ‘stay left.’ However, after the Pomerols that followed, we decided that ‘ACIDITY’ was more appropriate.

Last but certainly not least were a quintet of Pomerols; make that a quartet as the 1982 Vieux Chateau Certan was corked (DQ).

The 1982 La Conseillante had an incredibly exotic spice to its nose that blended in perfectly with its t ‘n a qualities. The wine had a cedary edge similar to that of a Left Banker, but its cassis and olive tapenade aromas were amazing and decidedly Right Bank. There was also great cinnamon stick, rose and stems to this complex nose. The wine had a rich and meaty mouthfeel with game, olive and vitamin flavors. Rich and smooth with nice dust and minerals, this ’82 was excellent and just short of outstanding (94).

The 1982 L’Evangile had sweet cherry jumping out of its nose with a nice forest-like complexity. Band-aid was also there in this daty, fruity wine. A touch of freshwater marked the palate, which had more alcohol and spice than the Conseillante and a vitaminy finish (94+).

The 1982 Petrus was a 1982 Petrus, which is not as easy a task as one might think since it is probably the most counterfeited wine of all-time. Thankfully, the Acker dilegnce came through (plug, plug). It was actually a great bottle of this wine with purple wildflowers and classic olive in its nose. Very classy, the Petrus also had ‘menthol’ (Ray) in a very light way. It was rich and meaty with tea flavors on its finish, but I do not think this vintage for Petrus will ever get better (95).

We saved the best for last with a great bottle of 1982 Lafleur. King Angry was very merry upon his first whiff of this wondrous wine. It had a unique nose with that signature, kinky, fleshy Rayas-like sweetness that the 1982 and other vintages of Lafleur have (but not all Lafleurs!) Its fruit was reined in with leather aromas suitable for a brand new Hermes bag. It had a super cherry and strawberry core of overripe Rayas flavors, exotic, vimful and oh so delicious (97).

That gamy, olive quality that all the Pomerols led us to select ‘KINKY’ as our word of the flight, although that word really only applies to the Right Bank wines. Or maybe, it was just that time of the night.

So, we summed up the vintage as:

SEDUCTIVE
VIMFUL
DRIVE
COMPLEX
CLASS
ACIDITY
KINKY

What really jumped out about this vintage were its finesse, elegance and acidity. With its soft tannins, this is a vintage that is all about the acidity, which is why its best wines will continue to age well. However, despite its larger than life reputation, 1982 is not a vintage that produced powerful wines by any stretch of the imagination. These wines were graceful, stylish and long, but definitely not powerful. For one of the vintages of the century to not have any 98 or 99 point wines in my book says something as well.

In summation, there are two conclusions that I made. One, I doubt we will ever see wines like this coming from Bordeaux ever again. The concentration and extraction achieved in today’s world are much greater than those in 1982, and I am not saying that is a bad thing. It’s just that after tasting hundreds of 2000s-2006s in Bordeaux over the past year, I don’t see wines of this 1982 style being made anytime soon again. This is not to say that today’s wines lack finesse or style; it is just to say that they are being made differently, hopefully and easily arguably for the better. Two, I found it most ironic that the king of concentration and the world’s number one wine critic made his reputation on a vintage of such elegance and finesse. Life’s full of irony, huh?

In Vino Veritas,
JK

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