A High Tide Raises All Boats

So, we were having roast chicken for dinner. I was crossing West St., cell phone pressed to my ear, and got the news. That sounded fine, but I didn't feel like opening anything too good with it. Fortunately, Chambers St. Wines is on my way to the subway and I ducked in for something new. I asked for something new (as aforementioned) and was walked to the back of the reopened store and presented with a Bourgogne rouge. I don't typically buy plain old Bourgogne, given the amount of good Premier Cru (and even Village) wines readily available. I figured though that 2005 Burgundy was deep enough to support the entry level, so, on recommendation, I grabbed a 2005 Prudhon Les Charmeaux. It was good, pretty simple really, but the fruit was nice and pure with an interesting fennel component. A touch stemmy, but ripe stems, with no astringency or green elements, and the food-craving, juicy acidity finished it off well. Still, I was a little put out that this wine was $19. A wine like this shouldn't be that expensive, but then I tried to think of a better bottle of Pinot Noir for under $20 and was fairly stumped. I guess this is what it costs nowadays and, it being an honest wine, I can't really complain...oh, and it went beautifully with the roast chicken.

Angry Cabbies

As I shuffled down the stairs, I could hear the train pulling away. I rounded the corner and could see through the bars the W train pulling away. Great, I thought, pacing in the heat of the underground. It had poured earlier in the day, so you would have thought the humidity would be out of the air, but not down there. With my iPod out of juice, there was nothing to do but people watch the old fashion way. Other than a man who appeared to be wearing capris pants and an obese gentleman whose belt was pulled up on his belly with only a tenuous connection to his pants, these people seemed pretty run of the mill. An announcement came from the ubiquitous subway voice that an uptown train was two stations away at Rector Street. Five minutes later, an R trained bent around the curved track at the City Hall station. The air conditioning was a welcome respite and I wondered how people survived less than a generation ago without working temperature control in the subway. I got off at Prince and hustled up the stairs. Even with the delay, I wasn't too late and, for the early hour of the dinner, felt that I was close enough time-wise.

Walking into Zoe, I notice to my right a table covered in Bordeaux stems, a harbinger of good things. I met Mike, Steve and Kevin at the bar and was introduced to Sherri as well. At the corner of the bar, there was an older couple who seemed bemused by our impending festivities. A number of bottles were already lined up on the bar and I added my '04 Schrader RBS to the litany. We decided to sit down and, as we did, Sherri's husband David showed up. So, we were all assembled. The group was supposed to be larger, but last minute cancellations had us at 6, which was fine by me. Mike had organized this tasting group regularly for about 2 1/2 years, but signs of strain had begun to show. People's tastes had diverged, as had their expectations. I got the sense that this might be it and that that would be OK. We were going out with a bang with the wines of one of our favorite winemakers, Thomas Brown.

The first wine of the night was a 2007 barrel sample of Steve's nascent project, tentatively called Congruence. He was toying with the idea of using his name instead. "You're going to call your wine Steve?" I asked trying to push his buttons. "That's a cool name for a wine. Give me some Steve." He was slightly amused. Kevin more so. The wine itself was excellent. I was somewhat relieved as I like Steve, but would have been brutal if called upon to be. The thing that struck me most initially was the absence of obtrusive oak. The nose was pretty and floral and really needed coaxing. Mike insisted there must be some Petit Verdot in there and I agreed given the elevated aromatics, but Steve assured us it was all Cabernet, primarily from Coombsville fruit. The wine was elegantly styled with sweet fruit and a hint of herbs. Structurally, it was sound with great acidity, although I would have preferred a little more tannic backbone to it. Clearly, Steve has fashioned a wine that reflects his palate and his passion for Cabernet. I've always been reluctant to turn a hobby into a profession, as it leaves you without leisure, but I hope he succeeds. He is certainly off to a great start.

The next bottle was wrapped in aluminum foil. A wine served blind with the only the caveat that it was made by Thomas. I turned to Kevin, who brought the wine, and said, "Is this a trick because Thomas didn't make the Double Diamond." He was mum and I was confused. It was expressive on the nose with a dusty cassis that should have led me to Sonoma, but it didn't. Clearly, Cabernet from the notes of cassis and the hint of eucalyptus, it had some good fruit but was hopelessly muddled in the middle. Plenty of tannin, but they don't seem to be framing the fruit and gave the finish a bit of astringency. It was an OK wine, but at $50 a pop I wouldn't be recommending the 2004 Double Diamond Mayacamas Range.

Having gone through the preliminaries, we moved on to the first two vintages of Maybach. I have had the 2004 Maybach several times, from barrel to bottle. In the past, it has shown a lot of promise, but has been marred by some obvious oak that obscures the fruit. I am happy to report that the oak has receded to the background (although not completely), leaving the sweet black cherry fruit to speak for itself. While it was showing better than it ever has, it still is remarkably young and remains a bit obvious lacking a bit of breadth. Much more concentrated with additional depth was the 2005 Maybach. It shared the black cherry profile, but added some licorice and tended more to the blacker side of the spectrum. It was creamier in the mouth and, like its older brother at this stage, wore its oak on its sleeve. I think I was alone thinking that this would be the better wine, although I admit the 2004 was the better wine today. Others at the table liked these better than I did and they were certainly well-made and flashed some serious muscle. I'm glad to own these, but I was a little surprised that everyone was so gaga over them.

On the other hand, I have no trouble building up enthusiasm for Schrader. We were fortunate to be doing a fairly complete horizontal of the 2004 vintage (all but the mag). All of the Schraders are made from To Kalon fruit and, although I've had each of these wines, I was anxious to seem them side-by-side to see the distinctions. The 2004 Schrader Beckstoffer To Kalon was the tightest of the three, as it had seen the least time in the decanter. It showed deep and dark cassis with smoke and cedar on the nose. It had great density and substance in the mouth, but showed a slight sharpness on the finish. I didn't notice this last point at first. The 2004 Schrader CCS initially seemed to be the same wine as the regular BTK, so I had one of my tablemates take them and give them back to me blind. There was striking similarity on the nose, but I felt that the CCS (once revealed) seemed creamier on the palate and showed its alcohol a little more. The 2004 Schrader RBS was wholly different. The other two were great Cabs, they really were, but they were intellectual in their presentation and, therefore, opened themselves to the academic dissection I engaged in above. The RBS had the wow factor that elicited a more emotional reaction and so insulated itself from such small bore analysis. The fruit smelled of raspberry coulis with an interesting herbal component. It was full in the mouth and long on the finish, blah, blah, blah. What it did though, on the nose and on the palate, was pop. The flavors were broad and vivid.

On the other hand, I question why there needed to be three different bottlings of these wines. All were excellent and in the top flight of California Cabernet, generally and for the 2004 vintage. At the same time, they were more a variation on a theme and I wonder if there are reasons, other than marketing, as to why there is intended to be a distinction, especially with respect to the CCS and the regular BTK. That said, I think these wines were underrated by the table, especially as compared to the Maybachs.

We finished with two wines that are of lesser quality. The 2005 Outpost True is a very nice wine. It has brambly black fruit speaking to its Howell Mountain roots. While its no Dunn, it expresses the expected tannic bite of the site. This wine is still pretty young and there is no shortage of vanilla charged oak. I liked the 2003 Rivers-Marie Cabernet better. Not a great wine, but an excellent expression of California Cabernet at the price point. It showed dark back fruit, sweet tannin and more than enough vanillin.

We stumbled out into the Soho night. I love New York after the rain. The City shimmers with light and feels swept clean and full of opportunity. I hailed one last cab and headed home.

Lipstick on a Pig

Chateau Greysac is not a good wine. At its best, its a mediocre early drinker that doesn't live up to the "superior" quality implied by the Cru Bourgeois Supérieur classification of its label. Greysac is both ubiquitous in US market and cheap and, therefore, leads generations of young wine drinkers to think of Bordeaux as lean, fruitless and without charm. What if, however, you let this sad excuse for a wine alone for 25 years? Would it get better? Is age a palliative for an insipid wine?

It is with those thoughts in mind that I approached a 1983 Greysac. How does one end up with a 1983 Greysac? Aren't they supposed to have been imbibed within 5 years? I'm glad I asked these rhetorical questions. I picked up this bottle incidentally as a paired ugly stepsister to the wine I really sought at auction, an '81 Haut-Bailly. The 2 bottle lot being less than what I would have paid for the Haut-Bailly itself (Véronique Sanders, the lovely general manager of H-B, had wistfully remarked to me that the '81 was not the type of wine that would be made today), so I thought of the Greysac as a free bottle of wine.

I knew I had to open this bottle, this succubus, eventually and, rather than inflict it on my friends, I decided to try it at home. Alissa had suggested we make lamb and I love Bordeaux with lamb. It seemed as good a time as any. With great trepidation, I removed the foil. Under the capsule, the cork had a think layer of muck on top. I'd opened enough beautiful bottles with worse and the cork came out very well, albeit completely soaked through, so I still held out hope. I poured two glasses and the color was disappointingly light, not a good sign. I tasted a sip and looked left and looked right. I put down my glass and walked away. Many wines need air to right themselves. I went back to it after a little while and the color had darkened. The nose had picked up some mushroom and some licorice, nice additions. It was still lean and charmless in the mouth though. I needed a second opinion. Alissa took a sip, paused, paused, and then scrunched up her nose, rendering an opinion. "I know, I know," I said and went to the cellar to pull out a 2004 Rivers-Marie Cabernet Sauvignon. As we ate our lamb, I looked over at Alissa and asked, "Better?" She nodded with a smile.

NYers Drink Xpensive Wines

This night had a good feel to it from the start. Work was no impediment to timing, I caught the subway quickly and I was walking across Madison Park on a beautiful night. The Summer has gotten later and later in New York City, sometimes carrying with it the humidity of August. Not this night. The air was crisp and clean and I was heading to a restaurant on top of its game to drink some of the finest wines that Bordeaux has to offer. Eleven Madison Park is tucked into the corner of a beautiful art deco building just off the park. A heavy revolving door gives way to impressively high ceilings that give a sense of openness that is harbinger of the friendly service. The clean lines of the décor were to match the modernity and purity of the food to which we then looked forward. We arrived in waves and the credenza behind our central table started filling up with wonderful bottles of wine. The last to arrive was Steve Elzer, a real life Xpensive Wino and our guest of honor.


We settled in with an aperitif from Mâconnais, the soft underbelly of Burgundy, a 2003 Guffens-Heynen Mâcon-Pierreclos. It was a pleasant enough wine with a generous nose of white peach, popcorn, a touch of lemon and a bunch of smoky oak. It was soft and a bit unfocused in the mouth with lots of fruit on some decent lemony acidity. The vintage showed in that it had more body than a typical Mâconnais and I couldn't decide whether I liked that aspect or not. Certainly an attractive wine for the price, but nothing to get too excited about. The 2000 Raveneau Butteaux, on the other hand, was a wine to get excited about and we moved onto that after giving up on a tragically corked 1993 Tattinger CdC Rose. The Raveneau was all white flowers; the floral aromatics were so relaxed and relaxing. There was also some lemon and Leo, with his sommelier's nose, picked up some Chamomile tea as it expanded. It was surprisingly subdued on the palate and seemed very tightly wound around itself. I had a hard time getting a sense of the fruit. Nonetheless, it had clean lines from a defining acidity and an appealing minerality. We debated a bit where this one was going to go in the future and I'm erring on the side of age. In stark contrast was the effusive and friendly 2003 Jadot Charlemagne (not Corton). Frokic and Jadot have become synonymous in my mind and Leo delivered again with an excellent wine. While the Raveneau drew you in, this wine came out to meet you with ripe apples and a rack of spice, primarily cinnamon, but let's not debate spices amongst friends. In the mouth, it was a real feat of engineering. The acidity couldn't hold the ripeness of the fruit and, instead, the focus is created by lack of malo, which provides a natural boundary for the wine. Not that it lack acidity, it doesn't, but the malo helps keep the focus and tension of the wine. A heavy maceration creates great weight in the mouth to finish the structural integrity. Add in the gravelly minerality and this wine adds up to a winner.

With the preliminaries out of the way, we moved West and a touch South to the main attraction, Bordeaux. We began with a trio of Ducru-Beaucaillou. The reputation of Ducru has gone up and down partially because of serious taint problems in their older wines and partially because the wines are so ungenerous in their youth that critics may mark them down for their rank austerity. That makes for some wonderful bargains for backfilling older vintages as the wines come out of their tannic shell and show a generosity of spirit that the younger wines lack. Their reputation seems properly restored, but values abound for this classy Second. As for the wines, Gary began hedging the performance of the 1966 early on, correctly noting that it can be a crap shoot with older bottles. He needn't have bothered. The 1966 Ducru was a magnificent wine. Poor Neal Martin, he would have enjoyed this immensely. I am younger than this wine, yet I could not match its vigor. I can match its charm, but I am in fact very charming. The aromas were textbook St.-Julien with smoky cassis, wet earth and spice expanding to reveal leather, cigar box, graphite and a hint of mushroom. I know there are those that decry "I spy" descriptors, but this a wine that wants its story told. The tannins were resolved, but there was still enough extract to lend some heft to the mouthfeel. The finish was long and lingering as it drifted on some welcome acidity. A surprise and a great experience. In contrast, the 1983 Ducru was a mess from the start. This wine was not supposed to taste this way and the volatile nature of it really destroyed all of the charm and most of the Ducru character. Tinny tomato eventually gave way to some smoky cassis and licorice, but by that point who cared. The finish was like Hobbes' life of man in the state of nature, nasty, brutish and short. I initially thought the 1996 Ducru was flawed as well, but notes of creamed corn quickly blew off and revealed layers of black currant, smoke and spice. The wine had similar damp earth characteristics to the 1966, although it lacked much of the nuance. It is not hard to imagine, however, this wine evolving into a wine much like it's older relative; there is clearly a family resemblance. While an admirable wine, I would say the elements of the wine still outweigh the sum. It started a bit angular and coltish at first, but righted itself admirably, smoothing out considerable with air. I would sit on these for a good 10 years as the fruit and structure can support it and time will ameliorate any disharmony that can be found in this youthful state.

We interrupt this Bordeaux tasting for a bottle of 1996 Harlan Estate. We will return to your regularly scheduled Bordeaux tasting shortly. I expected the best California Cabernet I had ever had and, while I'm not sure it passed that low bar, it was a truly profound and compelling wine. I always rail against the comparison of Napa to Bordeaux and the description of something in California as a First Growth, but I get it here. A wine of incredible concentration and precision, this wine is only beginning to unpack. The nose is a touch primary with onrushing sweet black fruit, vanillin and spice later sharing space with some tobacco, cedar and herbs. It enters the mouth seamlessly and the flavors intensify. This wine possesses great tannic structure to balance the great mass of sweet fruit and a wonderful acidity that drives the length of this wine. That always gets me, when the finish of a wine is not purely fruit driven, but ushered by acidity. It needs time, but ultimately may prove to be perfect. Now back to your regularly scheduled Bordeaux tasting.

Onward and back in time to 1982 and 1990. Those two vintages have produced some of the finest and most complete wines that I have ever tasted and drive my love of Bordeaux. Our first foray was with the 1982 Léoville Barton, a powerful, manly wine. This wine is such the personification of Claret, you can almost smell the tweed suit. I love these old school Clarets and this one had all the hallmarks with the reserved, but attractive, fruit standing aside for mature nuance of gun metal, bloody game, cedar and licorice. It is burly in the mouth with great weight and grip and the fruit fleshes out a bit, showing sweeter and more concentrated. The finish is sneaky long and runs along like the hum of a machine. We married this wine with its opposite, the gorgeous, sexy 1982 L'Evangile. The nose is generous with seductive black fruit sharing the stage with exotic spice, cedar and licorice. Silky, silky, silky with amazing concentration, this wine could be in the dictionary picture for Pomerol. On an evening of phenomenal wines, this stood out as a star and was my wine of the night. Next, we moved to the 1990 Cos d'Estournel, which was excellent, but suffered for its flight. Where as the 1982 Léoville Barton was a staid and stately wine, I found the Cos to be a bit standoffish and aloof. The black fruit was a touch of sweaty in an interesting Merlot sort of way and the nose had some really nice mature elements of wet earth, leather and tea. The wine is absolutely massive in the mouth with lots of fruit and tannin. My reaction to this wine is somewhat similar to the 1990 Léoville Barton, which is showing as a massive wall of wine right now, but should become a beautiful Claret in the style of the nicely realized 1982. I feel like I'm picking faults with this excellent wine simply because it wasn't as generous as the others, but do not forget the word excellent nor the word patience. In the other corner, a wine that requires no patience is the 1990 Lynch Bages, a bottle that fights well above its Fifth Growth weight class. I long ago fell in love with this wine and it turned out to be a first love for Ben Goldberg and Steve as well. It is one of the friendliest wines I've ever met. It is the Labrador retriever, it is the friend that lets you crash at his place, it is the girlfriend that tells you to go to Vegas with your buddies and means it. From a wine perspective, the thing I love about it is how it pops. I could go through the deep cassis, the dollop of vanilla, the extravagant weight in the mouth, the lush rich waves of dark fruit mingling with tobacco, earth and spice, if you'd like. Instead, I say enjoy. This wine wasn't the most profound wine of the night, but its impossible not to be seduced. Clearly, Brad fell in love as this was his wine of the night.

While we pondered this last wonderful flight, our glasses were pushed deeper to the middle of the table and three more were placed in front of us for some wines of lesser maturity if equal pedigree. What would an evening of Bordeaux be without a little infanticide? For example, I've already drunk through my stash of 1998 La Mission Haut-Brion, so I was glad that the other Ben brought one around. Massive, primary and a touch linear at this stage, it has a ton of personality and personality goes a long way. A modern and lush LMHB, it still retains classic Graves elements of charred wood and tar. It has amazing heft without any flabbiness. Lots of structure for sure, but this wine is about opulent fruit today and greatness tomorrow. I've had this wine several times and it has been a consistent performer. It was less sexy though than the 1999 Palmer. I'm really coming around on Palmer, a wine that I had written off as not to my taste. The last several Palmers I've had have been excellent and this was no exception. The nose was a heady blend of kirsch and chocolate with notes of licorice and herbs. It was very soft and surprisingly showy on the palate with opulent dark fruit. The second half of this wine was pretty fruit driven and I was a little surprised that there wasn't more tannin to frame the fruit. It wasn't flabby by any means, but I wonder where its going to go. I like it where it is though. I like as well the extremely youthful 2000 La Conseillante, the drinking of which was like interviewing a college kid for an intern job and trying to figure out whether they'd be an asset a few years from now. It was true Pomerol and very La Conseillante with pure dark raspberries, cocoa, licorice and spice. It had an appealing gentleness to it given its youth and prodigious structure. I thought I owned this wine and was very disappointed to find that I don't. This will be a star.

We finished the evening with a 1999 Rieussec. It has an appealing character of poached apples and spice, yet lacks the acidity to pull off its size. It starts wonderfully, but turns ponderous as there is no acid to cleanse the slate. Not a bad wine with some sharp cheese. I'd stay away from anything sweet though.

Anniversary Dinner

The Upper West Side of Manhattan was once a fine food wasteland (TS Eliot would probably call it Unreal City). The tide has turned in recent years, with new destination restaurants such as Bar Boulud and Telepan, much to my gustatory relief. I was further buoyed by Frank Bruni's review of Dovetail, the new UWS restaurant from chef John Fraser (last seen going through the revolving door that is Compass). Not that I really needed an excuse to try it, but I figured that it would be a nice place for my wife and I to celebrate our anniversary. We were not disappointed. I'm happy to report that the food was uniformily excellent with flavors that really popped. They even threw in an extra sweetbreads when I couldn't decide between that and the tuna tartare. More importantly for wine lovers, corkage is only $20 (2 bottles max) and the list is very well balanced and fairly priced. I talked a little with the somm/wine director and she indicated her dedication to lesser known wines (she hopes to boost her Loire selection soon), as well as well known staples.

I decided to lug along a bottle of Selosse Brut Initiale to the restaurant, as I had just acquired some and was anxious to taste it. My only previous Selosse was the Rosé, a wine that made Michel swoon. Upon the advice of several Board members, I chose not to decant it (as was suggested on the label-in French by the way) and then got cold feet and had them decant it at the table. What a wonderful wine. It had such remarkably clean lines; I kept waiting for some sharp edge of something (sweetness, astringency), but nothing was out of place. Still pretty young, it nevertheless showed great balance and had a nice cut to it. The fruit was quite pure and the flavors nicely delineated with a touch of yeastiness on the nose that I enjoyed. It lacked some of the nuanced breadth of vintage Champagne, but this was certainly one of the best NV's that I've tried.

The wine list was excellent with some real gems, so I decided to go a bit upscale with a 2004 Phelps Insignia. I really like Insignia and loved it when it was below $100. From the first whiff, it showed a clear Insignia profile with densely packed dark fruit, smoke and baking spice. The oak is a little overwhelming at this point (with my wife asking whether she tasted butter), but it became less prevalent with air and I suspect that it will integrate with time, as it has with other vintages. It showed lush and soft in the mouth with lots of silky tannins and good acidity keeping a rein on the ample fruit. The fruit comes across as a touch monolithic, although I suspect it will unspool nicely with some age. The finish is clean, long and mostly fruit driven. The 2004 isn't a blockbuster like the '97 and '02 or a structural marvel like the '95 and '01, but it probably sneaks in just behind those, ahead of the likes of the '96 and the '94. Cellar for future enjoyment once it calms down.

Ssam I Am-A poem (with a nod to Theodor Geisel)

Bo Ssam
Ssam I Am.

That big Bo Ssam,
that big Bo Ssam.
Who doesn't like roasted pork (or ham)?


I do not like that big Bo Ssam.
I would rather eat a tin of Spam.
Would you like it with Sine Qua Non?
No, I do not drink that stuff, mon.
Wait I didn't know you were Jamaican.
No, I'm not. I was only faking.

Would you eat it with A. de Mello?
He's brought SQN, what a nice fellow.
Would you eat it with Michel A b o o d?
He's brought a yummy Moutard, dude.
Would you eat with Jorge Henriquez?
He's bringing old Riesling (or so he says).
Would you eat it with our friend Izzy?
His '85 Charlie has us in a tizzy.

I will not eat your big Bo Ssam.
I will not eat one little gram.

Try this '00 A Cappella, it is surely good
and it even goes real well with this food.
It's concentrated and extracted for sure, yes,
but this wine is certainly no alcoholic mess.
It shows the pretty Shea fruit quite well
which you can see from the first smell.
It has no lack of acidic nerve
and the fruit is bright with lots of verve.
It opened up to show some nice depth to it.
(A wine that Levenberg might not even spit.)

I will not eat your big Bo Ssam.
Frankly, I don't give a damn.

What about the Heidsieck Charlie '85?
It's vaguely mature and really alive.
You would like the green apples and yeast
and the appealing nuttiness last but not least.
The middle I must admit was a little fat,
but I would not not drink it for that!
It's holding up well by any measure
and should give you years of drinking pleasure.
It was really refreshing should you have a dram
with your heaping big plate of delicious Bo Ssam.

I will not eat your big Bo Ssam.
Of that quite certain I am.

Here is a wine I should have offered first!
Here is a Williams-Selyem from the vineyard of Hirsch!
The vintage is nineteen hundred ninety and nine
and that silky Pinot Noir sure tastes fine.
Great structure and sappiness that I must ask you
is not Hirsch Vineyard comparable to Grand Cru?
Supple black cherry fruit and a hint of spice
and a line of acidity carries the fruit nice.
It would go well with duck or lamb
or with a big heaping plate of delicious Bo Ssam.

I will not eat your big Bo Ssam.
Now I ask you politely to scram!

You don't want these? Well, I have a fix.
How about a Riesling from 1976?
The Dr. Bürklin-Wolf Wachenheimer Gerümpel Riesling Auslese
Is easier to drink than it is to say, sir.
With petrol on the nose and juicy fruit
it showed a great minerality to boot.
It was relaxed and mature, no danger of morbidity,
although it lacked some cutting acidity.
It would be good for any guy or ma'am
to drink this with their delicious Bo Ssam.

I will not eat your big Bo Ssam.
I have a feeling this is some kind of scam.

If you don't like those, this would be swell,
a 1990 Savennieres from Domaine du Closel.
I admit there was a little oxidation on the nose
although I would happily drink much more of those.
The 2006 Naucratis from Scholium was also a trip.
I guessed Sauv Blanc from the very first sip.
There may have been some Roussanne in there too,
but Abe won't say and I won't ask-would you?
The Moutard Grand Cuvee was appealing to me
and it was quite complex for the simple NV.
Any of these would work in a jam
when deciding what to eat with delicious Bo Ssam.

Fine, you win, although it may be a scam,
I will try some of your plate of Bo Ssam.
Say, this is amazing stuff!
Of it I simply can't eat enough.
So I will eat it with deMello and Abood
and to not include Izzy would surely be rude
and I will eat it with Jorge and Patty
and the other two women whose names now escape me
I DO SO LIKE DELICIOUS BO SSAM
Thank you, thank you, Ssam I Am.

Recommended: 2005 Château de Gaudou Cahors Cuvée Tradition

I'd like to recommend a wine that is imported by a friend of mine, the 2005 Château de Gaudou Cahors Cuvée Tradition. Cahors is an AOC in the South West of France and it is fairly unique in that it relies primarily on the Malbec grape, which tends to be a blending grape elsewhere. The Gaudou is 80% Malbec, 15% Merlot (used to soften the harder, more tannic Malbec), 5% Tannat (which provides some additional structure). Malbec also goes by the names Auxerrois or Côt in France and loyal readers will remember I've previously recommended a Côt from the Loire. The bottle was a gift of Zach Ross and, for his generosity, I am grateful.

I enjoyed this wine quite a bit. It is firmly rooted in the earth. The fruit is as black as the color of the wine with an appealing spiciness, along with wet earth and a slight steeliness. The tannins are ample and drying, although it smoothed out considerably after sitting in the fridge for a couple of days. It is an honest, fairly straight forward wine that begs for food and should be consumed as an every day drinker. It brings me back to the heady times of dining outdoors on simple fair with local wines in the South of France. A welcome antidote to amped up Argentine Malbecs.

Trevor in Paris-An imagined evening with real tasting notes

So, I was having a rough morning. As I opened my eyes, I noticed the unexpected sight of a small bird on a tree branch above my head and it took me a second to orient myself. "I'm in the park near the Louvre," I reminded myself after that moment of confusion. Still laying back, I felt the slats of the bench against my back and admired the deep blue of the morning sky over the Jardin des Tuileries. My joints were achy and stiff in the way they do whenever you sleep outside. On the other hand, my head felt clear and that was a situation I needed to remedy.

I grabbed a hot dog from a local vendor and sat by the duck pond waiting for Sam and Frank to find me. In the days before cell phones, people just found each other. They'd find me or at least Frank would. Good old Frank. Either way, I wasn't going back to the hotel until Sam calmed down and there was no telling when that would be. Fights between brothers and sisters are decades in the making and rarely does the actual tinder have anything to do with the conflagration. Such was the case here.

The hot dog was a great call. It tasted terrible, but it went down well and evened out my stomach. My head was still clear though and that was a mistake. The other mistake I made that morning was letting a young Gypsy get within 5 feet of me. He was reasonably well dressed and I didn't sense the scam I was about to have perpetrated on me. As he approached, the back of my neck started tingling as I sensed trouble. This feeling was confirmed when he threw a ring at me, a tactic which I couldn't get a handle on until he was bumping into me to retreive it. He quickly hustled away as I checked for my wallet and passport, both of which were gone. A moment of adrenaline fueled panic abated as I realized that Sam had them both. Suddenly, rage grew in me as I realized Sam did not have my cell phone, which was now no longer in my pocket. I chased the guy down and yelled at him, but I knew it was too late. It was like arguing with the TV after a bad call and I quickly gave up. So, I decided to sit down and wait to be found.

The dawn turned into morning and the tourists, fat Germans and Americans with baseball caps and fannypacks, started to appear along the pond. Some kids with backpacks stopped to talk, but I waived them off, pretending I didn't speak English. The day was about to get better though. Frank and Sam found me and Frank announced he had a free lunch at Taillevent, and by free, Frank meant “I paid for the meal in advance and can’t get the money back.” Since it was free we decided we couldn’t miss.

We trudged along the Jardin des Tuilleries, past the giant mausoleum-like Musée de l’Orangerie, past the Place de la Concorde and down the Champs-Elysées. We lingered along the way, stopping for a coffee and cocktail at a couple of the open air cafes to people watch. These people were so boring and I started to crave some Salon. It was about time to head to our free lunch, our being Sam's and mine, and we swung along Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré window shopping, until we cut through some narrow streets to Taillevent.

We sat down and, since it was free, I order the 1982 Salon. This soft and elegant Champagne showed quite nice and very soft and feminine. The Chardonnay really stood out, which surprised me since I am generally not a fan of Chard-based Champagne. I was starting to feel better with the Salon lightening my head a bit. Since he was buying, we turned the wine list over to Frank. He saw a bottle of 1928 Haut Brion and, since he has had it three times this year and the last Magnum was corked, he wanted to give it anther go since this restaurant had it since release. Sadly, the fill was too low so the sommelier offered us the 1918 at a discount. It started out with very old aromatics, but after about 15 minutes the wine began to take on more feminine characteristics and blossomed with soft elegance. The smoothness of the wine was unreal like nothing I have ever experienced before. After about thirty minutes the wine began to open. For a wine made during the end of WWI, this was amazing. We finished with a 1947 Sauterne about which I have little recollection.

We lingered for a while until it was made clear that we were probably a little loud for the late lunch crowd. We were pleasantly inebriated, but still in need of further cocktails. The lack of further bottles had made my head very clear all of the sudden and some more Champagne was in order. The sommelier suggested a restaurant called La Tour d’Argent. I knew it. Just off Île Saint Louis, it was a bit touristy but had a good wine list. Agreed, we grabbed a cab and started to harangue the driver over his route and eventually ended up at the Quai de la Tournelle a few Euro lighter.

We discovered 1976 Krug while at the bar and attempted to order it. The bartender, a tall, gaunt man with traditional Gallic features and a decided lack of English fluency, impressed dinner upon us. Between our broken French and his three words of English, we decided to take the path of least resistance and order a late lunch cum early dinner. We were lead upstairs with our Krug to a plausible table and Frank commandeered the wine list again. He tried to order the 1945 Romanée-Conti, but was told it was not for sale. Frank was fairly incredulous, which the sommelier took for enthusiasm. Apparently, the somm had drunk a bottle a few years before and said it was “goooood…ehh good, ehh.” I'm still not sure it he was rubbing it in or trying to ingratiate himself to Frank. Either way, we decided to pop a 1978 Vogüé Musigny and 1993 Roumier Armouruses. I was in too good a mood to remember much about these wines other than they were immensely enjoyable.

After dinner, we stumbled out in the cool Paris night, arm in arm in the shadow of the great Notre Dame. The night was still young and adventure lay ahead.