What Belongs to the Day

Trevor in Paris-Part II-An imagined morning with real tasting notes

2010-02-06T11:38:00.002-05:00

I awoke to my morning headache in a soft, feathered bed of a non-distinct origin. I checked under the covers and I still had on my boxers and socks, so that was promising. The mystery of my location lacked the titillation of earlier volumes of the same story, but I couldn't restrain my curiosity as to how I got there. My clothes were scattered on the floor, which at least had an air of normalcy. As my eyes gained focus in the under-lit room, I saw my clothes neatly piled on a chair next to the bed. Not good, I thought.

I swung my feet over the side of the bed and the remnants of an incomplete bottle of Billiot spilled to the floor. I stood and the boards creaked as I stepped over various piles of some man's clothes on my expedition to find the bathroom. Fortunately, the place was smaller than it had seemed from the bed and my options were few. With a few tiptoed step, I was at the bathroom door. It was ajar, but slightly blocked and I had to lean my shoulder into it to open it. On the floor lay Henri in various states of undress, his arm draped over a bidet crusted with last night's repast. I am calling him Henri for convenience, not to protect an identity that I have no doubt exists in some other plane of existence. Not that I know his name. I did have a vague recollection of the two of us drinking with a group of ladies. The girls were nowhere to be found now and Henri looked a little the worse for it. I hoped that they had been here, although I would never know for sure.

I relieved myself and snuck back to my clothes, which I donned quickly. I went to the door and began to turn the handle. Something in the back of my mind made me pause and I went back to the bathroom and stood over Henri. I kicked his leg. "I'm going...thanks for the bed," I said in English. His arm slid from the bidet and he growled what was either some guttural French expression known only to the natives or an ancient Gypsy curse. Either way, I was convinced that he was in fact alive and quickly took my leave of the place.

When I got to the street, I had to orient myself. It was a skill I had mastered. I looked up and down the tight street and figured I was somewhere between the Rue des Ecoles and Saint-Germain. I did remember students from last night. It made sense. I hopped on the Metro at Maubert-Mutualité, planning on heading home. I thought better of it, instead getting off at Place de la Concorde and walking up the Champs-Elysées to clear my head. I dug deep in my pocket for a few sou to buy a crepe from a bored looking vendor. My head felt marginally better and I was proud of myself for the effort.

The sky was clear and the sun was higher in the sky than I had expected. I swung off the major thoroughfares and wound my way through the eighth arrondissement to our flat. The door was substantial, rustic mahogany and wrought iron, and I walked up the three steps and gave it a good pull. Across the cold foyer, I entered the lift in which Enrico was already sitting. "Ciao, Enrico." "Ciao, Signore Trevor, comment allez vous ce mattina," he answered in his broken French. "Va bene, grazie, Enrico." "Il n'y pas de quoi, Signore Trevor," he said as I exited the elevator.

I fumbled in my pocket for my keys, relieved to have found them and angry at myself for not having checked for them earlier. The key slid in easily and the door relented without a fight. I walked down the hall and into Frank's room. The knob was cold, but the room was warm. Frank and Sam were spooning under a giant, white duvet and neither moved. I crossed the floor quietly and lay down on the day bed near the window, my back to them. I heard Frank get up. "Gin straight?" he asked. "Water, I replied." I lay there for awhile listing to Sam snore lightly under the great duvet. She didn't move when I got up to follow Frank to the kitchen.

Frank was sitting with a highball glass in front of him. I sat in the opposite chair in front of a highball full of ice and clear liquid. The gin stung my tongue as I sipped it. Frank was a good man. "You said water, right?" he confirmed as he tapped the neck of an empty 1985 Dom Pérignon bottle. "You're a saint, Frank. Empty?" I asked pointing to the bottle of Dom. "Oh yes, absolutely," he said with a smile coming to his lips. "I love that wine. Subtle and sensual with complexity through the whole glass. I love the caramel and the nuttiness." "Yeah," I said, "it's going to be really good some day." The smile didn't leave his lips, but he shook his head softly and said, "It's great now." I didn't argue.

"How was that?" I asked pointing to a bottle of 1988 La Mission Haut-Brion that lay sideways on the kitchen table. "I hadn't had it in a few years and it was much different than I recalled. I remember it as somewhat fat and unfocused and this was anything but that. The nose was herbal, thyme maybe, with really pure Cabernet showing through and that kind of round edge of vanillin, you know?" "Oh, I know." "It wasn't that full in the mouth, although it had good presence and charm. The '88s seem to be shedding their hard shell and I'm finding them to be quite charming Clarets, if you like that sort of thing, which I do. The fruit stayed in the background with a low hum of intensity."

"Low hum of intensity, I like that," I said fingering the condensation on my glass. "My head has a low hum, as well. The gin helps though. Thanks for thinking of me." Frank smiled wryly, looking down at his own glass. We both took long sips and sat quietly for a time as the kitchen grew brighter with the passing of the day.

2008-11-17T18:38:00.005-05:00

On the recommendation of my friend Jay Miller (not of the Wine Advocate), I picked up a bottle of 2007 Clos Roche Blanche Gamay on the way home from work and constructively arranged for roast chicken for dinner. I must say, well played Mr. Miller. I really enjoyed this bottle, which most likely would have remained overlooked given my dissatisfaction with the 2006. It showed great Gamay character, which is of course a mixed blessing. The fruit lacked a bit of clarity, but it made up for it with a sense of earnestness and purpose. The two things that defined it for me and guaranteed a future purchase were the refreshing acidity and the appealing spiciness to the back half of the wine. I wonder whether the fruit will come into focus more with a little bottle age, especially given the acidity.

This bottle made me think of a broader point with respect to Gamay, especially with respect to Beaujolais (Clos Roche Blanche is from the Loire) and specifically with the perceived character of the grape. As someone asked on the Wine Disorder board, "if Beaujolais has been blessed (or infected) with California weather what is vigneron to do?" My answer is, if the Sun is responsible for the uptick in quality of Gamay in 2005 and 2007 then shine, baby, shine. Vignerons have always struggled either with making sure that their grapes get ripe enough (e.g., Loire) or the converse that their grapes don't get too ripe (e.g., California). My hope is that the winemakers of Beaujolais do not fall into the trap of experimenting with pushing the levels of ripeness that failed miserably for their American Pinot-making counterparts. Hopefully, the vignerons will use the power of Sol for good and not evil. If they can harnesses the ripeness of the fruit while maintaining the acidity and uniqueness of the Gamay profile, then we may see a new era for the variety. Otherwise, we may end up with generic crap, not there has ever been a shortage of that coming out of Beaujolais.

Dinner without Julien Barrot of Domaine de Barroche

2008-11-07T18:30:00.005-05:00

A classic bait and switch was in the works. I was stuck in traffic, late to meet up with inveterate Rhone whore Brad Coelho and his pimp Posner. The lights were messed up on Fifth Avenue causing untoward traffic and sending my schemes aglay. Brad called to confirm my attendance and seek my opinion of a 2005 Peter Michael Belle Côte that he was considering, as I quietly cursed my decision to forego the subway. Traffic let up in the 40s as an unbroken string of green lights hastened my trip to MetroCafe. It was a beautiful night for November and I arrived with only a cable-knit sweater over a white shirt and jeans. I thought this outfit to be quite country French and I felt remiss for not picking up a pack of Gauloises on my way. I was only trying to strike the proper mood for dinner with Julien Barrot, one of the brightest young winemakers in the Chateauneuf du Pape.

When I arrived, I found a strikingly good looking crowd. They were most likely there pre-partying because it was pretty early, as Thursday is the new Saturday or so I am told. At the corner of the bar was Posner and Coelho. Posner was wearing a dark suit, which he said was on account of attending a funeral earlier in the day. I thought he might be joking, but he wasn't laughing and I figured it best not to press the matter. Dan is a rather imposing guy and can be irasible if poked with a sharp stick. Brad was dressed in full-on Halloween orange sweater and I was a little surprised he could pull that off. They had ordered the Belle Cote and the barman came over and poured me a glass. "It's next Thursday," Brad says. "Julien's coming next Thursday." Somewhere between Julien's broken English and Brad's broken English, they had miscommunicated (note "jeudi prochain" means next Thursday). We still had reservations and the affable Jim Gallagher was to stand in for Barrot and we had the lovely 2005 Belle Côte before us, so things were still promising. As with many young Peter Michaels it showed a decent amount of oak, although nothing that it wouldn't shed with some bottle age. The fruit was a little plump, but quite pure, and it was scaled appropriately and well-proportioned. A very nice wine.

After draining the Belle Côte and chewing the sediment, we hopped a cab to Tribeca Grill where our reservation awaited. We got in one of those new SUV yellow cabs and Posner imprisoned himself in a front seat that almost accomodated his frame. As we got out on Greenwich St., sarcastically Posner thanked the driver for a comfortable ride. I had brought a 2004 Big Basin Rattlesnake Syrah at Brad's request and we had it tossed into a decanter for future consumption. After much haggling, we decided to start with a 2006 Peay Chardonnay, which we had been discussing earlier in the evening. Vanessa Wong is doing some great things way up in the northern reaches of the Sonoma Coast, harnessing the cool climate fruit in an understated way. This wine showed its youth much differently from the Belle Cote. The nose was delicate and precise with hints of citrus. In the mouth it was somewhat reticent on the fruit side, but the acidity and the minerality on the back end really made for some promise. As it opened up, those elements came together better and made for a pretty complete wine. Although I don't buy them, I can't recommend these wines enough.

Now, Tribeca Grill has an amazing and amazingly priced wine list. We were also in the capable hands of Ryan Mills-Knapp, a wonderful sommelier and a very nice guy. The wine list, poured over by Coelho and Posner, becomes a perfect instrument for their passion for Chateauneuf du Pape. It also becomes the subject of much debate, as wines are suggested and rejected. My suggestion of the 1995 Janasse VV elicited an incredulous look from Brad and a chiding for suggesting that vintage of Janasse, which was junk apparently. Janasse seemed to have struck a chord though and we went ahead and ordered the 2000 Janasse Vieille Vignes. We hit this wine at a very good time and it was in a very good place. It had a classic Chateauneuf profile of dark fruit, garrigue and a hint of pepper. In the mouth it was lovely with great texture and weight, the fruit nicely layered and showing raspberry and fruitcake. As beautifully as it is drinking now it has an atypical amount of acidity for a CdP and ample tannin that suggest better things as this wine unpacks a little more. A real stunner that should be sought out.

We moved next to the 2004 Big Basin Rattlesnake, which was a real disappointment. I had been reluctant to open it given that it was built to age, but could not refuse Brad, who had looked forward to it after all the buzz from California Syrah afficianados. Not a bad wine, it just is not cohesive at this point. The past subtle floral notes had been replaced by ripe and jammy fruit. The former supple palate was just plain muddled. There was nothing Northern Rhonish about this wine at all and it came across as anonymous California wine, as opposed to a child of the promising Santa Cruz Mtns. I still think that this wine will come together and there was nothing absurd or offensive about it. We just caught it in an awkward time.

Our next wine was blind at the behest of Posner. It was not good. The first thing I do when tasting blind is to try to isolate the varietal and the region. I was, frankly, at a loss. I settled on Rhone, but why would Posner be blinding us on a cheap Vacqueyras or an entry level CdP. There had to be a catch, but I wasn't getting it. It was an OK wine. It had a pretty floral side to it, although the fruit didn't really hold my interest. It was medium bodied and well-made, although it lacked any density and struggled to impress me. The wine was revealed to be a 2004 Espectacle del Montsant, which I had never heard of before. I have no idea what would have made Posner pay $180 (his treat) off the list for this uninteresting wine, especially with all the beauties there, except to prove Dr. Jay Miller a charlatan. To paraphrase Brad, we bought it to see what a 99 point Spanish wine tastes like and found it tastes like an 86 point Vacqueyras.

We finished with a couple of wines shared by Ryan, including a 2002 Kunin that had not aged well and some Medeira that probably will. We left and went over to the Brandy Library where I exacted my revenge on those guys by agonizing over my Scotch selection. Cigars were had and the evening advanced on semi-serious conversation. A good night, even without Julien Barrot.

I'm getting notes of manganese...

2008-11-05T19:24:00.003-05:00

Wine lovers often find notes of iron or gunmetal in certain types of wines, such as cool-climate Syrah or Bordeaux blends. I doubt any of those flavors are linked to this report in Scientific American on potentially hazardous levels of heavy metals in various wines tested. In the true tradition of Halloween reporting, the article is more alarming than useful as the authors don't name any wines; they only note that the problem exists in over 100 types of wines from a dozen countries. From a personal and more jingoistic point of view, the US wasn't mentioned, so I can rest easily given that my cellar is overwhelmingly populated with the wines of California and I have nary a bottle of wine from the Czech Republic, Greece, Hungary, Jordan, Macedonia, Portugal, Serbia or Slovakia (the wines of Austria, France, Germany and Spain present more of a problem). So, the next time you think that those slow and clumsy movements are the result of too much alcohol intake, be heartened that you may be sober and suffering from manganism.

The California Pinot Blues

2008-11-03T19:07:00.006-05:00

Those who know me know that I drink a lot of domestic Pinot and some don't even hold it against me. Like everyone else, my tastes have evolved and, while most of my fairly extensive California PN collection is wine made in a more refined style (such as Littorai or Williams-Selyem), I still have some pre-Enlightenment bottles laying around. I would never serve these to my friends (at least not the ones I like) and thus they become unholy experiments on me (and sometimes my wife if I've feeling in a particularly malevolent mood). A solitary Dr. Jeckyll alone in his laboratory if you will. So, it was with great trepidation that I opened a 2003 ROAR Garys' Vineyard that somehow remained in my collection. I'm not sure when or why I bought this, but apparently I drank through a couple of bottles a few years ago. Out of a sense of optimism or horror I had left one bottle until now.

Whatever charm it may have had has been lost on this train wreck of a wine. The fruit has settled somewhat from its youth only proving that it once masked the prominent alcohol that it now sweats like a hobo at the bus station. If you told me that this "Pinot Noir" was fortified, I would have only asked how much. On the bright side, the fruit is muddled and there isn't a hint of acidity or, if there is any acidity, it is crushed under the unrelenting heal of the fruit and alcohol. The finish was shrill and charmless. Other than that, it wasn't that bad. I saved some for the next day, which was a useless experiment and goes to prove the old saying that when you find yourself in a hole stop digging. So, down the drain it went.

Wine Violence-A Poem by Ben Sherwin

2008-10-23T21:12:00.001-04:00

Should a wine jump from the glass
as I've seen in people's notes?
Should it punch you in the nose
or grab you by the throat?

Is it safe to drink a wine
that makes you shake and stammer?
Will it leap out from your Riedel
and hit you like a hammer?

Don't get me wrong dear reader,
I don't want a wine that's silent.
I just wonder why so many notes
are so unbelievably violent!

Truth in Labeling

2008-10-21T18:35:00.003-04:00

In one of the most bizarre wine-related publicity stunts I have seen, the BBC reported that winemakers of the Languedoc have called their wine Vin de Merde (loosely translated, crap wine). Remarkably, whereas most wines from that region languish on shelves, apparently, VdM has sold out its initial run. One further irony is that a French magazine once had to defend itself from a libel suit for calling Beaujolais vin de merde.

The Languedoc itself is an interesting region. Created in 1985, one would think that it could have created its own image of itself rather than be forced into the tiered systems of other regions. The niche they seemed to carve out though was largely for crap wines. The quality has increased with some small serious producers, but the region goes underappreciated because of the difficulty of sorting the wheat from the chaff. Further, the best producers don't represent much in the way of value vis-a-vis other up-and-coming regions, such as the Loire. As concisely put by Jamie Goode, "The Languedoc seems to have come of age. No longer is it a sea of cheap wine with just a handful of quality producers. It’s now a slightly smaller sea of cheap wine but with dozens of serious, ambitious producers." Not bad wines, just not that compelling. Anything I'm missing?

First Customer at UWS Shake Shack? Me!

2008-10-19T14:06:00.005-04:00

I was dropping my girls off for a playdate at their friends' house, when I noticed an unusual amount of activity at the new Shake Shack on W77th St. It wasn't supposed to open until tomorrow, but I figured I'd check the door. A tall, young man in a black Shake Shack T-shirt and a green apron came to the door and told me they would, in fact, be opening today at 11:00. I checked my watch. I had 15 minutes to drop the kids off and get back to be the first on line. "Let's pick it up, girls!" I said, hustling them across the street against the light. Multi-tasking, I left a message at home for my wife to meet me at the corner of 77th and Columbus. After ditching the kids, I sped back to the shop, hoping that no one had taken my place at the head of the line. I turned the corner with some trepidation and was relieved to find a door without customers in front of it. I was to be the first. For those of you not from NY or following the NY food scene, the opening of Danny Meyer's new burger joint on the Upper West Side was as greatly anticipated as anything I've seen in my dozen or so years living up here. There are few things for which New Yorkers will wait on line. We NYers are always looking for efficiency, shaving valuable seconds off what could be sucks on our time in a finite life. If you want to see frustration to the point of murderous rage, drop a New Yorker in the Heartland and put him behind an old lady writing a check at the local grocery. So, when you see a hundred yard line of people snaking around Gramercy Park, you know it must be somewhere special.

The burger and fries were perfect. The shake was thick and sweet. Here was comfort food at its finest. David Swinghamer, the President of Danny Meyer's Union Sq. Hospitality Group, which included some of our favorite restaurants, came over and congratulated me as I savored a double cheeseburger. I gave him my chit, the first of its kind at the restaurant. I hope that it is one of many. As we left, I wished them luck. The Upper West Side, for so long a foodie pariah, is getting into the game.

A High Tide Raises All Boats

2008-09-24T21:49:00.006-04:00

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

2008-09-19T21:21:00.009-04:00

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

2008-09-18T19:27:00.004-04:00

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

2008-09-11T20:24:00.003-04:00

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

2008-09-07T14:50:00.004-04:00

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)

2008-09-06T17:33:00.008-04:00

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

2008-09-06T17:16:00.004-04:00

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

2008-09-05T18:54:00.003-04:00

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.

Subjectivity vs. Objectivity in Analyzing Wines-Part II

2008-06-22T19:11:00.004-04:00

Loyal readers will know that I've posted in the past on whether one wine can be deemed better than another on an absolute basis. We can certainly disagree with what we like better subjectively, but not to hold that one wine can be "better" than another is ludicrous in my opinion. This notion was put to the test in a thread recently on the eRobertParker bulletin board when someone challenged the collected geeks to defend Lafite against Boone's Farms (see my analysis here).

There are normative criteria by which we judge anything, be it art, wine, literature, etc. Some may weight the factors differently, but the whole exercise of talking about wines assumes some common touch points. If one wine cannot acheive what the other does in terms of those factors on which we judge a wine, then it technically can't be "better." Maybe better for the subjective tastes of the individual drinker, but a not fair summary of the common criteria. Whether one person likes Boone's Farms better doesn't negate either that it is "better" to them or that society as a whole does not regard it as "better." It is not for someone to argue that Lafite is better than Boone's Farm, as anyone remotely knowledgable about wine would concede that it is (even if they don't prefer it). It is for the outlier, the person that thinks the opposite, to challenge the societal norms and explain why they are right. For example, abstract expressionism challenged tradition forms of art. It went from not appreciated by the mainstream to a hierarchy of artists. Those artist join the pantheon of great artists and then it becomes about preference. Nobody, however, can make a viable claim that Red Skelton's clowns compare to Picasso's unless we throw out all normative criteria on which we judge art. Obviously, those most fluent in the accepted criteria can better judge, but they certainly don't have a monopoly on determining "what is art."

What about the fact that different groups may value different criteria differently? If all you prize is beat (or lyrics), then maybe Tupac is better than Mozart (or maybe Bach is better than Mozart). So, what we are discussing here is clearly group dependent. Notwithstanding that, music has other elements that anyone else that studies it with any seriousness considers to be an integral element, even when it is absent. Sometimes the absense of an element emphasizes something intellectual, such as a Phillip Glass work. There is the point though, right? The overlay of the intellectual over the subject taste elevates it. We value in wine not just the physical taste, but the trigger of intellectual cues. Those cues aren't necessary to the enjoyment of a thing, although all of us here regard them as a sine qua non for our personal enjoyment. Why? Because knowledge is power and provides context and links us to a broader wine-loving community. Whatever visceral pleasure I get from wine is enhanced by my knowledge of it. Fights within the knowledgable subgroup as to the subtleties of the normative criteria do not mean they don't exist. In fact, the deviation is small and is preference based, partially as you say, on biology. For example the level of acceptable of sweetness in fruit is a subject of great debate, but it is an exceptionally small part of the overall picture. If we agree on 90% of the factors, does the remaining 10% negate the whole and make everything subjective? The subjective part is small and only within a defined universe for people like us.

Blogging from CA Wine Country

2008-05-06T11:21:00.003-04:00

We're just finishing up our long weekend out to Napa/Sonoma. We stayed at the Gaige House, a luxurious boutique hotel nestled off Arnold Drive in Glen Ellen. It was a fantastic time and I look forward to writing up the experiences over the coming days. We have reached the stage where we don't go to wineries any more and really don't have much interest in finding new wines. So, check back often to read of barrel tasting with my boy Juan Mercado in the caves of Chateau Boswell together with Josh Peeples and a bunch of Miami Cubans (the people, not the cigars), shooting pool and watching the Derby over some beers at Ana's, a backyard dinner with the Browns and the Smiths in Calistoga where we do birth year Italian wines (1969), '70 Burgs and a '76 Bosconia, and a crazy dinner at the Bevans (is there any other kind?) where we drink through a mess of wines with the afore-mentioned Miami Cubans (with some cigars this time).

Easy Buy: Clos Roche Blanche

2008-04-30T19:25:00.005-04:00

Keeping an open mind is often hard to do for wine lovers. Impressions become hardened, be it those that assume all California wine is over-ripe, oaky monsters or that all red wine from the Loire is insipid. That latter opinion had been mine for a while, but like most uninformed opinions it was based on erroneous assumptions. The fact is that, no matter what region you are talking about, you have to kiss a lot of frogs to find your prince. Well, my prince has come in the form of Clos Roche Blanche. Completely guilt free wines, this producer was making wines organically before it was all the rage to do so and vinification is in a decidedly non-interventionist way. These wines deliver wonderful purity of fruit and food-friendly acidity at affordable prices (all under $20); what's not to like?

2005 Cuvée Côt - Great pure, plummy dark fruit excellently framed. Some licorice and white pepper add to the complexity to the nose. Great minerality. Still pretty dusty from the tannin even with a decant, but it showed impeccable balance and control for a wine this inexpensive. This is how Malbec should be done.
2006 Cuvée Côt - But for the fact that this is not the '05, I would have been pretty excited about this wine. Very good purity of fruit and some nice complexity, but I found it a bit hard and rustic. It still had the great minerality I've come to find in Clos Roche Blanc and good balance. This may blossom with a little more bottle time. In any event, it certainly makes a nice everyday, food friendly wine.
2006 Sauvignon No. 2 - A lovely, delicate expression of Sauvignon Blanc with a floral citrusy nose. It has an herbal quality of the Loire, although not the grassiness of Sancerre. With clean lines and great acidity, you forgive the lack of truly interesting fruit. I'd be shocked if this saw anything but stainless steel. A perfect wine to cook with and drink at the same time.
2006 Sauvignon No. 5 - More interesting aromatically than the No. 2, the No. 5 is not quite as focused and clean cut. That said, I loved the juicy tropical fruit it showed which seemed reminiscent of a good California Sauvignon Blanc, but with more minerality and acidity. Of the two Sauvignons it is the more creamy and full in the mouth leading me to believe this has seen some oak.
2006 Cabernet - I liked this OK, but it was probably my least favorite of the stable. Primarily Cabernet Franc with some interplanted Cabernet Sauvignon, it is fairly typical Loire. It had nice floral aromatics with a pleasant herbal quality over dark berries and pronounced earth and leather notes. It was much less interesting on the palate with mouth-drying, rustic tannins adding some mouthfeel to an otherwise thin wine. It did show nice minerality and a surprising grapefruit-like acidity. Ultimately though, it lacked the charm of the Côt or the '05 Cabernet.

Clos des Papes Vertical - 1969-2005

2008-04-24T19:56:00.005-04:00

There is no better way to assess a domaine than to do an extended vertical. I was one of nine hardy souls that gathered at Tribeca Grill (which has an amazing Rhone list) to sample a dozen vintages of Paul Avril's Clos des Papes. One of the consistent stars of Châteauneuf-du-Pape, the 2005 was memorialized by Wine Spectator as their 2007 Wine of the Year, the wines of Clos des Papes are traditionally Grenache dominated (around 65%, vintage depending) and the character of that variety is evident across vintages. I wouldn't say there is a "house style," but there was an amazing consistancy across vintages that show the quality of the terroir. The showing reenforced my views of Clos des Papes and proved out my thought that these wines are best left alone for at least 10 years.

We had the best intention of dumping the underperformers, but those were somewhat lacking (which had a somewhat deleterious effect). Most of the bottles were drained to the dregs. I've not listed the 1993 and 1997 which were corked.

1998 Clos des Papes Blanc - An interesting wine. The nose was somewhat delicate which belied the fullness it was to show in the mouth. Underlying the ample fruit was a lemony acidity and an impressive minerality that made me think of peach pits. Surprisingly, there was also a popcorn-like note that made me and others think of white Burgundy. Thank goodness this wasn't blind or we'd look pretty foolish.
1969 Clos des Papes - A stunning wine. The nose was ethereal and full of mature nuance of wild mushrooms, truffles and herbs overlying a bed of raspberries. The palate was exceptionally delicate with earthy wild raspberries framed on the entry and finish by garrigue. The finish also showed a touch of spiciness. With no noticable tannin, the fruit lulled quietly along on string of acidity. While others remarked that the finish was short, I could not disagree more. I found a sneaky persistance to the wine that I believe owed a debt to the acidic structure. The thing I loved about this wine was the quiet self-assurance it showed. Whereas many of the later wines shouted to you, this one made you lean in to hear a whisper.
1989 Clos des Papes - This wine is built to age and gave the impression of a much younger wine in both its vigor and how primary the fruit showed. The nose was a kirsch bomb with kirsch-y kirsch and some kirsch. The fruit was exceptionally pure and was not completely without secondary nuance, however, with notes mushrooms, black tea and touch of truffle. The palate was even more kirsch and black pepper. Whatever reservations I have about the showing of this wine are assuaged by the amount of tannin and the great underlying acidity. This wine has made it almost 20 years and it will probably be another 10 before it blossoms, which is amazing for a Grenache based wine.
1994 Clos des Papes - A workhorse of a wine that is probably drinking as well right now as it ever will. It started out feral and funky, sauvage, with raspberries, blood and tar, as if a horse had run for miles only to be run over on a stretch of newly paved highway. On the palate it was thick and sappy, the herbal raspberry character over a current of acidity. Without food, it was a little sharp and it evened out nicely with charcuterie. Still, I didn't sense that this had the stuff to be a great wine.
1995 Clos des Papes - I had figured this would have opened up some over the years, but it remains tight and unrelenting. On the nose there is an appealing earthy raspberry character and some spiciness. It is was quite ungenerous on the palate, which is a shame because you could sense the great purity to the fruit. Nice architecture, but structure for structure's sake. Some wines are just hard wines.
1998 Clos des Papes - An absolutely stellar showing for this wine. It was quintissential CdP with a heady mix of sweet red fruit, garrigue and licorice. Notes of bloody beef and tar also made an appearance. The palate presence on this was just astounding with raspberries, herbs and a slight spiciness carried through the finish by a tart acidity. The tannins were present but not obtrusive and added to the mouthfeel rather than obscure the fruit. It also possessed an appreciable earthy minerality that should come more to the fore with age. Really one of the few wines of the evening where the breadth matched the exceptional depth and the length. Easily wine of the night for me and the favorite of the majority of the group.
1999 Clos des Papes - We were lucky enough to drink this out of magnum, so we were able to go back and get a second impression. At first, it was fairly charmless. Some kirsch, some vanilla, a bit of garrigue, but not much there. In the mouth in was a bit thin and diluted with a short finish. When we went back to it later, while it was still firm and buttoned down, it started to show a more elegant side. It was still more structure than anything else, but it came across as classy and old-school instead of stiff. Perhaps the .750s would show a little flashier, but I suspect that these will take time.
2000 Clos des Papes - A very good wine that will require a measure of patience. The nose of sweet red fruit is a mit obscured by a distracting dollop of vanilla. Once that integrates it will be able to express better some of the bloody beef and garrigue characterisics underlying. Fairly big, but not outsized, in the mouth, there seemed to be a little less in the way of tannin and acidity, but certainly was enough to carry the fruit. It was a little less evolved than the '98, but was still fairly open and friendly. That said, just because you can drink it doesn't mean you should and allowing time for the pieces to knit together is a must for this wine. It shows great promise.
2001 Clos des Papes - A great marriage of power and elegance. It is still unspooling and requires some patience, but it's all in there. The nose is classic CdP with raspberries, herbs and a little gaminess. It was fairly nimble in the mouth with good ripeness unlinerlined by refreshing acidity. The tannins are a bit obtrusive and left it feeling a bit thin on the midpalate, but it fleshed out as the evening wore on and should come around with bottle age. Whatever urge you have to open this one, resist because there appears to be a lot of subtlety here that needs substantial time to emerge. It is certainly built to last.
2003 Clos des Papes - Looks like we got one of the good bottles of the '03. It really is a whale of a wine with tons going on. Kirsch, kirsch and more kirsch on the nose mix with a tasteful melange of asian spices, vanilla and tar. I'm a bit of a sucker for cardamum in wine, but the combination of the spice and vanilla got me thinking about oak and I really didn't want to go there. It had wonderful presence on the palate, being weighty but not heavy, with dark raspberry framed by silky tannins and a lemony acidity. It is of monumental size and is really exciting to drink, but it isn't quite at rest right now and all the pieces don't completely make sense in the context of the wine. The '05 seemed a touch more precise. Let it sit a while and cross your fingers you didn't get a bad batch.
2004 Clos des Papes - I was a bit surprised about this bottle, which I expected to show better. It had ample ripeness with sweet black fruit and Christmas spice, but it seemed too advanced for a 4 year old wine. It wasn't falling apart or anything, but it seemed a bit too precocious, too showy. Ali noted, "It's good tonight!" which left unspoken that it didn't really hold much interest beyond a one nighter. A look-at-me wine that I just didn't get, but I don't think anyone didn't enjoy it. A bit of a guilty pleasure.
2005 Clos des Papes - I felt this wine was slightly more compelling that '03. It had the quintissential Grenache character of sweet kirsch and herbs on the nose. It was showing a bit too much vanillin of its youth, but there was also some great secondary characteristics peeking out, such as licorice. The palate was pretty tannic and tightly wound, but the fruit was so pure and it was underlined by a nice acidity. It's a powerful, structured wine that didn't feel tricked out. Have some patience though; this is not as wide open as some other '05s I've had.

The Battle for Wine Hearts and Minds

2008-04-17T21:44:00.004-04:00

For those French speakers out there, there is an interview of Robert Parker in today's Le Figaro. Not a lot on news in it (big shocker-'07 compares most directly to '97 or '99 vintages in BDX!), but I thought there was an interesting bit at the end. When asked about the dominant style of today, he dismissed the question (he basically calls the "international style" a media creation) and chose to highlight the efforts of young and new winemakers in the south of France, as well as Italy and Spain, working with indiginous cépages that in the past have been ignored or farmed off to cooperatives. In another place, he cites the move in Spain from a cooperative mindset to an artisinal one as the great improvement there. He also said that it was a myth that consumers love oaky wines (wood can mask the nuance of fruit in the name of rounding off the wine and adding flavors like espresso or spice).

I think that one of the reasons for this myth is the fact that I have been highly criticized for liking strong wines, very oaky and extracted. All that is far from the reality. It suffices to read my newsletter or my books to convince oneself. It's the same thing for the consumer. Consumers seek a pure wine, with character and this will always be the case. [my translation]

I had to double check that I wasn't reading an interview with Keith Levenberg. Not everyone is convinced though. As my friend Steve Eisenhauer noted, "I take what he says in his reviews much more seriously than what he says in an interview and there is a significant divergence between the two." In other words, notwithstanding his protestations, Parker rewards wines other than those he said are good for the industry in the Le Figaro article.

Still, I wonder if we can move past the old arguments. For those unaware, there has been a Balkanization of the wine world between what is regarded as the "Parkerization" of winemaking vs. "traditional" winemaking. The fight has gotten rather ugly recently with both side hunkering down and resorting to juvenile behavior (for example, Mark Squires prohibits mention of the anti-Parker gadfly Alice Fiering). Notwithstanding the vitriol, there is much common ground and the differences have narrowed, although no one seems to want to admit it. Change is afoot and the examples are many: the pendulum seems to have swung back to some degree on alcohol and ripeness in California; there is a revolution of artisinal producers in well-priced regions like the Loire; the concentration of corporate ownership in Champagne is causing people to seek out grower Champagne; and the list goes on and on. In some ways, the rocky dollar and pound and the spiraling increase in prices of the vins de garde is driving people to look elsewhere and that elsewhere is artisinal producers that are more in touch with the land (be it biodynamic, organic or good sense). That certainly has been the case for me, where my purchases of '05 BDX and California Cabernet has left me returning to my roots of searching for inexpensive wines from lesser know regions. I've discovered wonderful wines from Touraine, Beaujolais, Austria, among others that I wasn't even looking for a year ago. You should have seen Lyle Fass' face when I came in asking for Chinon. There have been misses for sure, but I finally enjoy the hunt again after cringing through recent high priced purchases.

Bob has been pretty consistent with trumpeting diversity as a great thing for the global wine market, but that has been fairly well drowned out by the din of the old arguments on style. Clearly uniformity, to the extent it existed or was regarded as a goal, is now fairly consistently seen as a negative and stylistic differences are being prized more greatly. I think everyone should be happy with that. Perhaps those here that feel they need to defend Bob so vehemently can prize the diversity of opinion when it trends away from wines of amplitude and those that constantly take pot-shots can accept his place in the world while they try to establish theirs...or perhaps people will continue to argue over the same old things.

My New Career-Pouring the '06 R-M Pinots

2008-04-15T18:39:00.004-04:00

I had the pleasure to quit my day job for an evening and pour Rivers-Marie Pinot Noir for Thomas Brown at the Maybach event in New York last night. While I had not previously considered a job as a professional wine pourer, I think that I have the skills and the drive necessary to reach the top of that avocation. Most people that pour wines have to also work in the cellars, cleaning, disinfecting, getting their hands dirty. They call them cellar rats, honestly, enough said. I, meanwhile, stay above the fray imparting wisdom as if on high. It is not an easy job, mind you. I had to listen to myself say the same thing over and over again for almost 2 hours. Anyone that has spent an evening with me can attest to how tedious that can be. Yet, I persevered my own pedantic ramblings on vineyard sites and pH to enjoy the interplay with the hoi polloi. After all, I feel like I owe it to them, poor souls that they are. They need my cool reassurance and guiding hand extended to pour the next glass and describe to them what they were tasting. How would they know otherwise? Would they know sassafras if it hit them over the head? I think not. So, I was forced to drink with them. I do acknowledge a certain lack of professionalism in that act, however, I felt that my flock needed a shepherd. I debased myself, yes, but on their behalf, wretched as they were, devoid of wine knowledge. What else could I do? I felt that I owed it to them and, I think, they left a little better for it.

2006 Rivers-Marie Pinot Noir Sonoma Coast - Sonoma Coast - While this may be the entry level Pinot for R-M, it does not compromise stylistically. It is admirably structured without being angular and compares favorably to the wonderful '04 SC, although I didn't think it is as delicate. The fruit is a mixture of restrained red and purple fruit with some zingy cranberry as well. The fruit shows nice purity and is underined by a sharp acidity. Great restraint and percision. The temptation is going to be to open this early while you wait for the single vineyard bottlings, but that would be a mistake. This should unwind nicely over the next couple of years.
2006 Rivers-Marie Pinot Noir Summa Vineyard - Sonoma Coast - A beautiful wine representing the promise of the true Sonoma Coast; it was poised and elegant and you had the feeling it was exactly the type of wine that the grapes wanted it to be. The nose showed delicate and floral with red cherries, citrus and sassafras. The fruit is sweet and red in the mouth with silky tannins and a cross-current of acidity. There is some earthiness lingering in the background and I would expect that as this develops it will gain some foresty nuances that SC Pinots can provide. More than once it was described as Burgundian, but I think people were referring to the impeccable balance, as this wine is all California. This wine is going to require patience, but with pure fruit, tannic structure and high natural acidity, I expect that such forbearance will be amply rewarded.
2006 Rivers-Marie Pinot Noir Willow Creek Vineyard - Sonoma Coast - A nice addition to the R-M stable. The nose was floral and tended to the darker side of red. The palate was a bit weightier than I expected given the delicacy of the aromatics and trended darker still. Very well built structurally, the fruit, while expressive, seemed to lack a bit of complexity, perhaps due to the relative youth of the vines. Nonetheless, it seems very easy-going and self-assured; there are no angles, yet it does not feel excessively polished either. Of all the wines, I think that this is the one I would drink first (the acidity seemed tucked in a bit better), although I'd be sure to keep one or two around for the long haul.

Take my word though, these wines should not be opened any time in the next couple of years. Decanting is not a proxy for bottle age and these are built to last. Patience, grasshopper!

Wine Word of the Day: Corked!

2008-04-11T20:19:00.003-04:00

Woe the clarion cry of "CORKED!" Inevitably, a fine wine-centered dinner will be partially marred by that cry made as if at a bingo parlor. A few things happen subsequent to the first call, including discussion, confirmation or disagreement and the rueful dumping of the wine. With a $30 bottle of wine, one can emotionally move along very quickly. Unfortunately though, cork taint is blind to the value of a wine and kills indiscriminately and without mercy. God bless you if you've never had your stomach drop as your lone bottle of 1990 Cos d'Estournal is hopelessly corked. It is the functional equivalent of burning $100 bills.

One of the common misconceptions for newcomers to the wine world is that the term "corked" has anything to do with the structural integrity of the cork itself or with the flavors of cork. Indeed, I've had epiphany bottles of wine that had crumbly, soaked stoppers that hinted at something less than an impermeable barrier between the air and juice. What "corked" or "cork-taint" really is is contamination of the cork and, consequently, the wine with a chemical called TCA, which stands for Tri-ChlorasomethingorAnother (trust me, just remember TCA). High levels of TCA will impart dominating wet cardboard aromas to the wine or, on some occasions, can make the wine seem chlorinated. Low levels of TCA will mute the flavors of a wine both on the nose and on the palate. TCA-taint will become more prominent with air and irredeemably ruins the wine. There are tales of Saran wrap being a savior for corked wines (I kid you not) and have fun experimenting with that while I dump my bottle. The conventional wisdom is that 7% of all wines suffer from some levels of TCA, although I would suspect (completely unscientifically) that much of that is not apparent to the taster, so that the incidents of corked wine will appear to be fewer. Further, sensitivity to TCA varies from taster to taster. My friend Michel finds it more quickly than I, while unnamed friends will happily slurp down a corked wine unaware of the flaw.

The muffling of the qualities of a wine can be attributable to other things other than TCA (see, for example, the WWOTD: Backward) and, therefore, can be the subject of spirited debated, not just among wine geeks, but with a server. The fact is, most waiters and a surprising number of sommeliers have no idea what corked wine tastes like and will often just tell you "that is just how the wine tastes." Now, they may be correct that the wine is not technically flawed or they may be wrong, but that is a little beside the point. Their correct reaction should always be to take the wine back and give you another bottle. There are numerous stories of wine professionals being bullied by restaurant staff to accept a flawed wine. Dorothy Gaiter and John Brecher, a husband and wife team that write for The Wall Street Journal, recently described in an article about their treatment at Le Bernadin with respect to a flawed bottle. They got a call from the head sommelier apologizing. I assure you that you will receive no such call. So, you have to look out for yourself and stand firm; do not accept the insurance company treatment where first answer is always no. Make sure that you call over the head sommelier or the manager and have them taste it for themselves. As a matter of courtesy, you should ask for another bottle of the same wine showing commitment to your selection. In addition to sending the bottle back, make sure that the server replaces the glass as cork-tainted wine can effect the next glass as well. Cork taint is disappointing verging on depressing, but take heart, there is always another bottle to open and, hopefully, that is not corked too!

Thoughts on the 1992 Vintage in Napa

2008-04-05T23:04:00.005-04:00

I recently read someone describe the 1992 vintage was a great vintage in Napa. To the extent that it was, I don't think the wines are holding up well now and I generally try to stay away from them. The wines seem to have some nice aromatics, but they really don't deliver consistently through the wine. I described the 1992 Joseph Phelps Insignia as the little engine that couldn't. I felt the same way about this wine from dinner the other night. Better to stick with the 1991 vintage, which has held up quite well.

1992 Mayacamas Vineyards Cabernet Sauvignon - Napa Valley
While this wine certainly had some highlights, it showed fairly incomplete. The nose was intoxicating mature Cab with earth and truffles accenting the briary red fruit that speaks Mayacamas. The transition to the mouth started well enough with savory black cherry on a nice acidic structure. However, the wine seemed to give up about halfway through as it becomes muddled and then clips off hard. Nice entry...it becomes confused...then disappears. It was if it didn't have the strength to carry the burden of being a great wine. It didn't fall off really as the evening wore on, but it never got better either. In some respects this what I expect from the '92 vintage at this stage unfortunately.

Is 100 Points an Albatross for a Wine?

2008-03-29T22:41:00.004-04:00

The thought occurred to me when I was drinking the monumental '05 Deus Ex Machina, which was graced with 100 points by Parker. It is a stupendous wine with densely packed layers that spread out beautifully across the palate. Truly a three dimensional wine with depth, breadth and length. In the back of my mind though, I was looking for things that could detract from this beauty of a wine. Honestly, I've done the same things with wines like the '02 Shafer HSS and '00 Chapoutier Ermitage Cuvee de l'Oree, neither of which I thought merited perfection. It's not just me, you see it all the time with people's tasting notes when they say, yeah, it was good but it wasn't 100 points. Rather than mentally score a wine up from 0 (and I use score liberally since I don't award points), you work your way down.

My point (and I do have one) is that it seems a burden on the wine to hold a perfect score. That is to say, some of the pleasure is taken away because the wine is being held up as an avatar of earthly perfection. Anything less is going to be a let down, notwithstanding that the wine may not be at its peak, etc. While we may know scores (or notes for that matter) are just snapshots and predictions, it is human nature to grab onto the tangible. Certainly, it is a hot topic of conversation at the table no matter how sophisticated and point-phobic the tasters are.

At the end of the day, it is what in the glass that counts. We should approach a wine without prejudice, but is it possible to approach a wine without expectations?

Bordeaux-where to start?

2008-03-27T18:05:00.009-04:00

Someone recently asked the question as to where to start their journey with older Bordeaux. For me, I bought part of a cellar of perfectly stored, mostly 1990 Bordeaux with a few other vintages thrown in for good measure. I must say that I didn't fully appreciate my good luck at the time and wasted quite a few bottles that I'd now treat with care. I was lucky and, absent good fortune, one has to pick a place to start. The best scenario would be to be introduced to it by others with more experience. Mature Bordeaux is, after all, an acquired taste. One has to kiss quite a few frogs due to storage issues and bottle variation, so it takes some doing to learn what is a bad bottle as opposed to what is shut down as opposed to what is just plain austere and lacking charm. Of course, one should drink as much as one can to learn about a region and Bordeaux is wonderfully diverse, which makes it both easy to find and hard to choose. Plus, the excursion requires quite a capital commitment.

So, where would be a good place to start? My first reaction was Pauillac because that is my favorite region and the wines are so classically Claret. However, these wines aren't with obvious charm for someone used to drinking California Cabernet or Australian Shiraz. They have a power driven not by fruit, but by a structure that provides an elegant frame for exquisitely pure fruit (in the best of times). Instead, I thought of Graves. Other than Domaine de Chevalier, the wines often display great sweetness that would attract a California wine lover, while not (necessarily) bending to a more modern style. Many can be found in the $100 range at retail. Even older vintages of the great La Mission Haut-Brion can be had for a reasonable price in "off" vintage.

Where would you start?

Wine Word of the Day: Variety

2008-03-18T21:39:00.005-04:00

"Variety" refers to a single type of grape used in making a wine. For example, Cabernet Sauvignon and Cabernet Franc are both grape varieties. This term is often confused with the word "varietal," which refers to a type of wine. If you are referring to a type of blend, such as a Bordeaux blend of Cabernet, Merlot and Petit Verdot, you would use varietal. Just to screw you up, "varietal characteristic" again refers to the grape and not the wine, referring to the distinctive qualities of that variety. Cassis is a varietal characteristic of Cabernet Sauvignon.

Simplicity and Balance (or less is often more)

2008-03-17T23:01:00.005-04:00

Keith Levenberg has a very thought provoking piece on his blog The Picky Eater. His point is, essentially, that we are always looking for more of things in a wine to establish balance, rather than look for less. An analogy to art would be that often the hard part is knowing when to stop working. (As a counter-example, see the brilliant power of Michelangelo's rough Slaves, imprisoned by the marble). In certain respects Keith is spot on. Too often we excuse a lack of balance because a wine has interesting individual component characteristics, notwithstanding it ultimately does not equal the sum of its parts. That said, to take a reductionist's view, you could just as well be defending the pleasant and round wines that have no distinguishing marks; the "steakhouse wines" that aim not to offend. However, I agree though that we often miss the peaceful, the tranquil in search of something that knocks our socks off. Just the other night, one of the stars of a recent Grenache tasting was the simplest (and coincidently least expensive) wine on the table. Why was it showing so well? In a word, balance. All of its elements were in their place even if none of those individual parts was a standout in and of itself. A wine at peace with itself.

At the end of the day, we're all seeking wines in balance and Keith correctly points out that balance isn't necessarily each piece ratcheting up to the same level, but often the elements lying peacefully next to each other. I think his point is broader than that and, in part, seeks to attack the critics that take a more is more approach and give voice to the opposite view. It's a great read from an excellent wine writer and I urge people to check it out.

Some Quick Thoughts on Alcohol and California Wines

2008-03-05T22:20:00.003-05:00

Can California wines be balanced? My friend Vinotas posits that in order to have balanced wines, vines need to be stressed and the conditions to stress the vines are not present in California. His argument is more nuanced than that I urge everyone to read his two part series on why we sells French wine. I'm going to try to refute some of what he says, however.

Balanced wines are harmonious unto themselves and better complement a meal, which is a huge plus. Vinotas asks "how can you eat anything with an oaky, sweet CA Cabernet that's 15-17%/volume?" Fair enough, but let's dig in a bit there. It's unlikely that he has ever had a non-fortified wine that is 17% alcohol. I've only had one California wine that was that high, a Zinfandel, and it wasn't very good. Notwithstanding the lack of 17% wines, Eurocentric drinkers will often cite them as evidence of the lack of balance. I see that as a red herring. Let's work our way down. The only wines that are 16% that I own are Zinfandels and they are generally not as serious wines, meant to drink over the near term and have massive walls of fruit to hide the alcohol. Can you drink them with food? Sure, if you like ribs or chili (and who doesn't). The argument in favor of California wines gets far more complicated once you hit 15% APV. That is especially true for California Pinot Noir. To the extent there was a trend towards over-sized Pinot, I think that pendulum has begun to swing in the opposite direction with even people like Brian Loring admitting that his wines were insipid. It is easier to defend Cabernet where the alcohol may be hidden by fruit and tannin.

Again, it is a question of balance with the balance being between the fruit and the structure (tannin and acidity). The more alcohol, the more fruit and tannin needed for cover, which makes it harder to keep them in balance. That does not mean it is impossible, only difficult, and there are any number of winemakers that get it right.

A confession and change of heart...

2008-03-04T20:33:00.001-05:00

I've been having somewhat of a love hate with my Pinot Noirs. I love to drink them young, but I hate to think what I'm going to miss. Something had to give. So, I've basically resolved to cellar them all (for the most part) and pick up some older Pinots at auction for consumption now. I decided that whatever you get in easy gratification from early drinking, you lose in harmony, as these young wines (for all their charm) are not really knit together yet.

Accordingly, for my long-term strategy, I've been looking for wines with great tannic and acid structure to match the inevitably sweet California fruit. Largely, that means eliminating the wines with lower acidity and higher alcohol. I must admit that I got this really wrong in my early impressions in Pinot Noir. I defended the bigger style of Pinots, while others knowingly clucked that I'd come around. At least it didn't take long for me to see the light! I'm not saying that others can't enjoy those wines, but for me and my palate, they weren't really working. Generally speaking, I've found these wines to be from the true Sonoma Coast and, to a certain degree, RRV. I've gone through almost all my Central Coast Pinots and now stick to Williams Selyem, Rivers-Marie, Littorai and KB (because I can't afford not to buy it). I also like some of the things that Andrew Vingiello, Jamie Kutch and a few others are doing.

So, here's a couple of tasting notes from my new adventure into the world of self-denial. While I love fruit from WS Rochioli, the precision and focus of the WS Hirsch clearly won my heart. Perhaps it's my love of the Sonoma Coast or perhaps, just perhaps, I drank the 1998 too young....

1998 Williams Selyem Pinot Noir Rochioli Riverblock - The marriage of Williams-Selyem and Rochioli fruit is always going to be a treat. The nose was quietly brooding with an earthy raspberry and tell-tale RRV cola notes and some baking spice. It had a tremendous presence on the palate with juicy, sappy dark red fruit. Still, it lacked a bit of precision and, while the acidity was ample, it still needs a little time to integrate better with the fruit. Given that there was a surprising amount of tannic structure left, I think this actually needs a little time for the fruit to mellow. Who'd've thunk it.
1994 Williams Selyem Pinot Noir Hirsch Vineyard - Just a stellar bottle of wine. The nose showed pure and complex with vibrant and vivid red fruits intermingled with wet earth and a satisfying citrus that I love in Sonoma Coast Pinots. The fruit was quite lively and remarkably precise, dancing along in the mouth on beam of lemon-y acidity. The most satisfying this was that everything was in its place; all elements driving the wine from the glass through the finish.

Very Old Cabs

2008-02-27T19:55:00.006-05:00

My Cabernet group (CLONYC-Cabernet Lovers of NYC) had dinner last night at Zoe in SoHo. The theme of 1970s Cabs came together when Greg Dal Piaz and Steve Eisenhauer hatched the idea of opening some pristine mags of 1970s Cabernet that Greg had secured. They enlisted planner extraordinaire, Mike Pobega, to secure arrange the particulars. When you are opening wines this old, there are always going to be hits and misses, but the highs were extremely high here, with the two Mayacamas showing magnificently, and the misses were nothing if not educational.

First up were a vertical of Martinis that Greg donated to the group. Greg brought these museum pieces that he had acquired off the sweat of his brow and the change in his pocket. With crumbly corks and just decent fills, it appeared we were in store for a real crap shoot. That's pretty much what we got to with a pretty decent range of quality. The general consensus was in favor of the '76, although both Greg and Greg T. preferred the '75. I didn't get that at all, but different strokes, especially when it comes to older wines.

1974 Louis M. Martini Special Selection - Sadly, this tasted a bit past its prime. It started out a bit reductive and rubbery, but that cleared leaving an interesting savory nose of cassis and dried leaves. It seemed slightly madierized on the palate, with the one distinctive characteristic being a persistently long finish of amaretto. Blind, I would have said this was an extremely old Nebbiolo, as it didn't have much Cabernet character left. The ripe rabbit that has been passed by the tortoises of the less famous vintages.
1975 Louis M. Martini Special Selection - I know Greg liked this one, but I found it rather disappointing. I never got passed the grassiness and rubber ball smell and the palate was a touch sour with really tired fruit. If there was more fruit, perhaps the dill wouldn't have bothered me as much as it did. Ultimately, whatever balance this wine once had has been lost to the ether.
1976 Louis M. Martini Special Selection - Here is a wine I can get behind, although it was more pleasant than earth-shattering (which is fine). The funky, reductiveness that it had at first receded and gave way to dusty blackcurrants and earthy mushrooms. It had a gentle body and decent palate presence, although it lacked a certain amount of intensity that would elevate it to oustanding. As it is, it was very good, but I'd certainly drink these up if you have any.

Next up was 4.5 liters of outstanding Cabernet Sauvignon in the form of the magnums that were the original subject of this dinner. These wines were all in absolutely pristine condition, having been culled from a cellar by Greg when he worked at Astor. The wines never saw shelf time in a store and were kept in a temperature and humidity controlled environment. The performance of these wines really speak to the storage element to the tasting of wine, with the Martinis as a counterpoint. The corks were fantastic, the fills unbelievable and the wines were...

1973 Mayacamas Vineyards - What a wine, what a wine. Dark and lovely, it was magic from the second it was in the glass. The nose was a gentle dusty cassis intermingled with dill (I'd expect this saw a fair bit of American oak in its day). It continued to evolve in the glass and gained complexity with cigar ash and earth. It had a certain tranquility in the mouth, not that it lacked vivacity, but in a way that showed great self-assurance and restraint. It was an effortless wine in the mouth, with smoky dark fruit that was reminiscent of mature Graves, but with a sweetness to the fruit that was quite California. Here was a wine truly in balance with each element clean and precise. A truly classic Claret and a revelation.
1975 Mayacamas Vineyards - This wine started slowly and built to an amazing crescendo. Unmistakably California Cabernet, it displayed brawny and brambly mountain fruit with a youthful vibrancy that belied its age. It evolved beautifully in the glass, picking up charcoal, mint and earth, without fading one iota. The dark profile of the fruit carries through to the palate where it showed great breadth and power. There is still a fair amount of tannin to resolve, but it surrounds and elevates the sweet California fruit rather than obscuring it. Impeccable balance and precision carry through to a long and tasty finish. A remarkable wine that should continue to evolve.
1977 Heitz Cellars Bella Oaks - I thought this was going to continue the streak of great mature CA Cabs, but after a brief promise it faded. The nose initially showed dark plum mixed with cocoa powder and leather, but dipped a bit picking up some soy notes and generally becoming more reticent on the fruit side. It didn't have much intensity or weight in the mouth, although it was not at all unpleasant. It just seemed to struggle a bit to keep up with the 2 wines next to it. Still, it was clearly well crafted, even if a bit tired.

Subjectivity vs. Objectivity in Analyzing Wines

2008-02-17T09:49:00.002-05:00

Let's discuss whether one can definitively say that one wine is better than another. There will always be an element of the subjective in analyzing wine because people have different palates and preferences. So, does that mean there are no objective truths when it comes to wine? Are all things are necessarily subjective? Not really. Objective "truths" can be measured by applying agreed upon standards. In things that are not automatically quantifiable or easily measured, like beauty, we use a standard of fixed criteria to determine what is objectively "true." Why the quotes around truth? Essentially, we are making an approximation of the truth, which we can better judge with more knowledge, in the same manner as the prisoners in Plato's Allegory on the Cave. Now, certainly, these criteria may vary with societal norms. For example, a Rubens model would not necessarily be regarded as the height of beauty today. Notwithstanding that "objective" standards may change with the times, we apply the applicable normative standards to try to a mental checklist by which we can compare two things. Make no mistake, those with greater experience have a superior sense of what is comparatively "better" because they can consider more factors and, accordingly, describe to others why something has more value. On the other hand, if everything is subjective, then the value of everything is minimized. Red Skelton's clowns cannot be considered better than Picasso's ladies simply because someone likes them better without diminishing the value of all art. We are elevated by beauty and diminished by the regression to the mean.

Isn't that why we have critics for things like wine? They are presumptively the most experienced and, therefore, they can best judge one wine against another (in Plato's Allegory, they would be closest to the sun). Variation in judgments may exist because of externalities and general preferences. It becomes, then, our responsibility in relying on these critics is to try to calibrate our palates to theirs, mostly to narrow the inherent elements subjective preference. Another way to blunt the manifestation of the subjective, would be to have a panel in lieu of a single critic. When the panel is a number of experts, such as the Grand Jury European, the result may be compelling. When the panel is a bunch of amateurs, especially in the context of a blind tasting, the results are often absurd.

A Counter-intuitive Thought on Multiple Tastings

2008-02-13T22:29:00.002-05:00

I've already discussed some thoughts about how drinking wine is both an act of creation and destruction. This tidbit on Jim Laube's blog over at Wine Spectator got me thinking about whether you lose something from multiple tastings of a wine, namely the creation from a blank canvas as opposed to retouching an existing work. Laube relates:

With wines, one reason people diverge in their opinions is that we have different perspectives. I’ve tasted most of these many times and have many different points of reference. For some of our editors, with a wine such as the ’68 Souverain, it’s perhaps a once in a lifetime experience.

I've thought about this topic quite a bit, especially as I've moved up the learning curve of the wine journey. The wine writers that I admire most have a gift for putting a wine into context, such that, even without the sensual experience of the wine, the reader can imagine what it is like. Those points of reference can be external indicia of the real (wet stones after a rain) or the theoretical (Satan's urine after eating asparagus). They can also be internal, such as with a vertical tasting or repeat tastings of the same wine. It is this last point that Laube is getting here and it is one that I often overlook. It is amazing how the first time we taste a wine we record every experience in minute detail, the second time we double check our impressions and note evolution and thereafter really shorthand as to whether the wine is consistent with past tastings. Said another way, we lose the wonderment of the initial impression and are left comparing it not with other external factors, but only with how the wine is supposed to taste. That is not to say one can't maintain the discipline of writing detailed notes on the wine, but the perspective is quite different. Laube's point then is that that change in perspective will immutably change our opinion of the wine. We will judge it differently for having tasted it.

Analyzing Napa Cabernet

2008-02-08T19:01:00.001-05:00

I started a discussion over on the Parker Board yesterday, which I figured I'd link to here. My point is that people are quick to judge California wines in their youth in a way that we are trained not to do with Bordeaux. We had a '98 La Mission Haut Brion at the Pratt's lunch and people judged it for what it would become. Much younger California Cabs were judged for what they are now. I'm not sure this is fair to the wines. Yes, they are monolithic and rambunctious, but is that any different from many young Bordeaux, even traditionally styled ones. What was the gorgeous and massive 1986 Margaux like at release? I would guess pretty damned big and I'm sure someone can tell me for certain. Bordeaux is Bordeaux and Napa is Napa in a whole lot of different ways and I love that dichotomy. Still, to the extent that we try to look at wine objectively in terms of our intellectual analysis, should we not be consistent?

There's some interesting replies over there. Check it out.

Wine Word of the Day: Backward

2008-02-02T16:40:00.000-05:00

The term "backward" describes a wine that is out of balance in that the structural elements, primarily the tannins, obscure the central element of the wine, the nuance of the fruit. Generally, the term is used for a wine that has not yet reached its drinking window and requires some cellaring, such as a young Bordeaux. These wines are often described as "closed."

An analogy...think of the fruit as the picture and the structure as the frame. Now turn it around. You can't see the picture, but you can still see the frame.

The Big Game

2008-02-02T08:49:00.001-05:00

It was a light drizzle, so I eschewed my daily walk from the office to the subway in favor of the #22 bus to Chambers St. I was seated across from a man whose black and yellow Pittsburgh Steelers jacket was handsomely accessorized by his black and yellow Steelers backpack. Both were on prominent display. Onto the bus climbs one of his co-workers and they begin (loudly) discussing a variety of topics, including the Super Bowl. She asked him for whom he was rooting and he replies that, well, his team isn't in it, but he's pulling for the Giants. So, she asks the obvious question, "Oh, who is your team?" The jaw drops.

Gooooooooooooo, Giants!

Bordeaux on the Hudson

2008-01-28T18:54:00.000-05:00

I was lucky enough to again be at the Bordeaux table at the 3rd Annual Peter Pratt's Lugeresque extravaganza in Yorktown, NY. The event, organized by a member of the Wine Advocate Message Board, was a wild indulgence into two of my favorite: steak and mature Bordeaux. My two wines showed on opposite ends. The 1998 La Mission Haut-Brion was wonderful, but the 1990 Figeac underperformed.

The Year was 1982...
...and the wines were excellent. Ah, the beauty of mature Bordeaux. The GL, a generous gift of our sick friend Mark Golodetz, had a lot of fans at the table and was quite a well-made wine. My distaste for GL being well-documented, let's just say that there were plenty of people that would happily pick up the slack in drinking that wine. The LP was probably the favorite of the table, but I had a big spot in my heart for that La Conseillante. All in, a fantastic flight and probably the most consistent.

1982 Château Gruaud Larose (St. Julien) - A very nice Gruaud Larose, if that's your thing. The nose started out with some tomato notes that I find common to GL and has really prevented me from embracing this producer. The nose is quite complex with charred wood, slightly stewed black fruit, leather and earth. It was pretty substantial in the mouth with some fine grippy tannins and tart acidity framing smoky cassis. It faded a bit in the end although not significantly. Overall, a very good wine that will have its fans, but it did nothing to make me love GL any more than past bottles.
1982 Château La Conseillante (Pomerol) - This is a wonderful wine for lovers of mature Bordeaux. A complex and evolving nose of earth, leather, gunflint and licorice. It also possesses a pretty herbal quality. The palate is gentle and the sweet cherry fruit rolls on a balancing acidity past the skeletons of resolved tannins. It just got better and better.
1982 Château Léoville Poyferré (St. Julien) - Sorry, boys, the secret is out on this wine, which showed even better than the bottle we had last year. The nose is all delicate beauty and finesse with some light cherry fruit intermingled with cedar and eucalyptus. The real magic is on the palate though where one finds the marriage of power and elegance. The delicacy of the nose shifts as the fruit turns darker, more tarry and, ultimately, more savory. The ample fruit is wonderfully framed by great structural acidity and fine tannins. This bottle showed broader and more complex than the previous one and I'd recommend holding it for a while; this wine will last forever. A superb, effortless wine.

A Wide Variety
The wine that stands out here is the '98 LMHB, so let me explain why it was in there in the first place. Rich, Bill and Paul (and the absent Mark Golodetz) had to suffer through a corked bottle that I brought to our LMHB vertical, so this was to make amends. The wines were so disparate that I don't think its fair to say there was a favorite.

1989 Château Palmer (Margaux) - Here is another repeat performer from last year's lunch and, unlike the '82 LP, this was a much poorer showing. To quote Wilfred, there was nothing wrong with this wine, but nothing particularly right either. Nothing really stood out about this wine other than an edgy steeliness. The nose was reticent with some slight floral notes and graphite. The fruit was so delicate as to be an afterthought and so all you were left with were the structural shell. Still, it wasn't a bad wine, just perhaps a slightly off or under-decanted bottle, and I certainly wouldn't panic if I owned any. It just was outclassed today by some great wines.
1985 Château La Mission Haut-Brion (Pessac-Léognan) - A classic Claret in an old school Graves style. LMHB seems to have different faces which show from vintage to vintage, but always with a certain style and remarkably consistent. This version displayed the elegant side of LMHB. A wine of finesse with an intriguing nose of dark cherry fruit, herbs and earth. The fruit turns redder on the palate although delicacy remains from the nose and carries all the way through to the finish. A wine that stays within itself and maintains impeccable balance and charm. I wonder if they still make wines like this.
1998 Château La Mission Haut-Brion (Pessac-Léognan) - A young buck of a LMBH with lots of potential. A bit out of place with its older neighbors, it nonetheless showed tons of personality and was quite wide open and expressive. The fruit is really quiet primary, but is beginning to show some classic Graves elements as it jumps from the glass with opulent black fruit, tar, wet earth and charred wood. It is quite substantial in the mouth, although not heavy, with plush, luxurious black fruit buffeted by silky sweet tannins. The finish is pretty much fruit driven at this point with the ample fruit overwhelming the structure. Overall a bit simple today, but I'd say on revisiting in 5 to 10 years, one will find a profound LMHB.

A Visit to the Right Bank
The Angelus' were stupendous and head and shoulders above the Figeac (which I think just tasted like Figeac but others thought it corked).

1989 Château Angélus (St. Émilion) - Every once in a while, a wine just buckles your knees. While the sheer powerful joy of the nose on this wine is the attention grabber, it is the wonderful balance displayed that keeps you coming back. A complex intermingling of sweet black fruit, spices and smoke meet you on the way to the glass. In the mouth is shows wonderful weight and concentration with an undercurrent of acidity and strong tannic backbone that keep the fruit in focus. A nice reminder that power does not have to mean over-the-top. The best is yet to come for this wine.
1990 Château Angélus (St. Émilion) - Not much to not like about this wine. A three dimensional wine with the alluring richness of its vintage. A compelling and exotically fragrant nose of dark fruit, spice, chocolate and smoke. Soft and sexy smooth from start to finish it has a decent structure that frames rather than dominates the fruit. Don't be mistaken, this is a fruit story and the story is long and complex as the fruit spreads out over the palate. A bit more acidity would have brought this pretty close to perfect.
1990 Château Figeac (St. Émilion) - Again this wine shows controversially. There were numerous cried of corked, but I think that people are thrown off by the Cabernet Franc dominated herbal dustiness on the nose. As it is, I find a delicate perfume with dry cherries, herbs galore and leather. The palate is similarly gentle with a refreshingly high level of acidity. This is a counterpoint to the open and generous wines of the Right Bank in 1990. A wine in a minor key that clearly didn't appeal to many at the table.

A Couple of LLC's to Finish
These wines suffered for being the last flight in terms of attention, but not in terms of quality. Clearly, the 1985 was the better wine today.

1985 Château Léoville Las Cases (St. Julien) - This is a wine they don't make much any more. It had a quietness to it that I don't usually associate with LLC reflecting the finesse-driven 1985 vintage. The nose seduces rather than wows with concentrated cassis, anise and graphite. Silky in the mouth, I loved the striking acidity which carried the remarkably fresh and vivid fruit along through the finish. A classic.
1989 Château Léoville Las Cases (St. Julien) - Not without some charm, this wine is years away from being ready. A wine of similar weight to the '85 LLC, it lacks that wine's calm presence. There is a quiet anger lurking underneath the placid exterior. Still, it is a wine of distinction with pure compact cassis at its core and a nice fleshy mouthfeel all of which is somewhat obscured at the moment by its own impressive architecture. The wine today has an unrelenting steeliness and I don't think it wants to be that wine. I'd expect that some time down the road those tannins will integrate and the fruity core will explode and we will have a truly compelling wine.

A Rare Double Vertical-4 Decades of Haut-Bailly & Pape Clément

2008-01-25T18:30:00.000-05:00

This event was a great way to kick off the year. I love Bordeaux and I love drinking it in the context of a vertical tasting. One of the strengths of the wines is that each vintage tells a different story and we were lucky enough to be joined by the owner and manager of Haut-Bailly, Robert Wilmers and Véronique Sanders, to weave the tale. I had the good fortune of sitting across from the charming Mme. Sanders, whose family owned the chateau and made the wines for years. The idea for this dinner germinated in a conversation between wine writer Panos Kakaviatos and the real Jay Miller (i.e., not the Wine Advocate critic) about the changes to Pape Clément in recent vintages. The plan essentially was to taste a vertical of PC to see the changes since Magrez took power using HB as a classical control. To that end, it was a smashing success.

Both Haut-Bailly in the heart of Léognan and Pape-Clément in Bordeaux suburb of Pessac (it is within the BDX ring road) showed very differently, owing perhaps to their unique soils, although both showed the classic elements of traditional Graves. The wines were wonderful (other than a couple of early hiccups), especially the HB which showed a consistent style and quality. I own some HB, but never really sat down with it as seriously as this and really fell in love with the freshness and purity of the fruit common to these wines.

Thanks to Jay and Panos for organizing and to Veronique for her generosity and unique insights that pepper this report.

Mature Clarets
We had much more luck with the HB in this flight. The '88 HB was in particular a revelation, as expectations were pretty low. Véronique particularly enjoyed it as they have none at the chateau and this was an unusually good showing. She indicated that in the past in had shown "square" and this was much more "round" and complete. She also noted that the '78 was the last vintage of her great-grandfather. How nice it must be to have that much personal connection to a wine!

1978 Château Haut-Bailly-A beautiful mature Claret. The nose was a delicate perfume that evolved gently showing graphite, ash and loamy earth. The fruit was fresh and pure on the palate and I was surprised by the sneaky persistence of this wine: it rippled slowly on and on. The freshness of the fruit was a nice counterpoint for the spritely acidity leaving the overall impression of balance and delicacy.
1978 Château Pape Clément-I kept thinking this bottle was going to right itself, but it never did. It was musty and musky with some varnish notes (VA?). Not much relief in the mouth as it was pretty thin and diluted. It must have been an off bottle.
1988 Château Haut-Bailly-This wine started out a touch angular, evincing nothing more than cedar and graphite, but with a little aggressive swirling it blossomed in the glass into a charming Claret. Popping from the glass were aromas of sweet and slightly sour cherries mingled with orange peel and some Asian spice. The fruit in the mouth was slightly darker than it showed on the nose and was full and broad across the palate. If there were ever seams to this wine they have since hidden themselves admirably. This wine has years of life ahead and will only get better.
1988 Château Pape Clément-This wine was pretty dirty. I think brett can be a character enhancer, but clearly a fine line was crossed. The nose of wet diapers masked whatever charm was underlying this bottle. The bottle looked good, so I would think it's something in the winemaking. A real shame.

Flight of the Night
These wines were very fine. Any of them could have put up an argument for wine of the night. The '89s are all about finesse and the '90s about power. Véronique noted that to combat the hot harvest of '89, they kept the fermentation cool (<28ºc/82ºf) in order to tame the intensity of the fruit.

1989 Château Haut-Bailly-A wine of brilliant finesse, the '89 was probably the favorite wine of the night for the group. The nose was of exceptionally pure cassis and it gained complexity in the glass displaying touches of spice and cocoa. Wonderfully broad in the mouth, it had an alluring minerality and mouthwatering acidity to balance the ample fruit. The tannins to a certain extent contribute to the weightiness in the mouth, but I expect that they will step out of the way as the fruit matures. Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful.
1989 Château Pape Clément-A very good if somewhat incomplete wine. I wasn't wild abouty the nose, which was pretty reticent. A hint of fruit, but mostly lead pencil and earth along with a touch of VA. It was much more pleasant in the mouth, with a full mouthfeel, well-delineated fruit and an interesting steeliness. It had a nice acidity that carried the finish nicely.
1990 Château Haut-Bailly-A stikingly powerful wine, it seems to have more of everything. A deep, dark nose with notes of graphite, ash and roasted herbs. A full mouthfeel that showed impressive depth and breadth. Perfect balance between the ripe, ripe fruit and underlying acidity. It is a great example of the richness of the vintage that I so much enjoy. Perhaps it will have a lower apogee than the '89, but I thought it was the better wine for today.
1990 Château Pape Clément-A powerful wine that speaks to the richness of the vintage and the character of its place. Soaring aromatics of dark fruit, scorched earth, spice and licorice. It had a nice minerality and purity to the fruit although the palate could have used a touch more focus and it lacked some of the complexity that it showed on the nose. Plenty of structure left here, so it will be interesting to revist this wine in 5-10 years. This isn't a classic wine, but it is quite excellent.

A Soft Landing
I found these wine to be somewhat unusual compared to the others in that they were much softer wines. Not making a value judgment, just noting the facts. For the HB, the '98 has 43% Merlot and the '00 had 50%, which are some high numbers for these wines. I would assume that the PC blends were similar. I was fairly well impressed by the '98s which were very open wines that could be drunk now, albeit a little simple. The '00s on the other hand were fairly closed, but were more complex, I thought, which runs counter to the logic that the '98 vintage was the better one for Pessac-Léognan. These wine also proved out the point for Pape Clément saw a real change to a more "modern" and aggressive style of wine. Not that that is a bad thing, the wines were much cleaner and were very well crafted. I could see many people finding them a bit of an anathema however. On the other hand, the HB wines were true to their historical style with very clean, pure performances. The '98 PC was probably the one PC that I liked better than its HB analogue, however, I could see someone easily perferring the freshness and true Graves character of the HB.

1998 Château Haut-Bailly-Plush and soft, this wine is a little too fruit driven at the moment. The fruit is pretty primary on the nose and there is an ample amount of it. It is quite full-bodied and weighty in the mouth, although by no means heavy. There is nice acidity there, but the finish is more fruit driven at the moment. It's open knit and ready to go now notwithstanding that age will certainly help in develop some more complexity.
1998 Château Pape Clément-This one was open and ready to go. Lots of plush, round dark fruit mixed with a bit of dark chocolate and a ton of licorice. Full in the mouth and bordering on heavy, it has decent concentration but is a little short on focus. The tannins are fine and the acidity merely adequate. A really juicy, chewy, fairly simple wine that has a nice "please like me" personality. I don't think it's going anywhere for a while but it certainly is enjoyable now.
2000 Château Haut-Bailly-While I usually prefer more Cabernet driven wines, I liked this quite a bit. That said, it is way too young for a proper evaluation of the details as it doesn't show much nuance. The beginning and end of this wine are fruit driven and the palate is balanced but somewhat uniteresting at the moment. That said, it is impressively crafted. It is a very soft wine (about 50% Merlot) notwithstanding the impressive tannic structure. While other vintages of Haut Bailly seem to use the acidic structure to balance the fruit, this one appears to rely more on the tannins. Accordingly, this is going to need some time to show what it's got. A very impressive value for the vintage.
2000 Château Pape Clément-This wine is an inch wide and a mile deep. The color, the fruit...black and deep. However, it isn't showing any breadth at this stage, so its a little bit of a waste. Made in a soft, round, modern style, the nose is dominated by black fruit, semi-sweet chocolate and oak-driven roasted espresso. There's lots of pure, concentrated fruit there and a huge architecture framing it. It's more of the pieces of an excellent wine than a good wine now. Hopefully, time will tie it up into a great package because it does have potential.

Sandwich Vintages
I tend to ignore these two vintages, sandwiched between '00 and '03. I did like the '01s as being good every day drinkers and continued my general dislike for the hard '02 vintage.

2001 Château Haut-Bailly-I am sort of torn about whether this is a sleeper of a wine or just an everyday drinker. It is pretty much textbook Léognan with deep cassis, smoke and earth. It's slightly on the thin side of medium-bodied and doesn't have much architecture, but it is wide open and impeccably balanced. A wine with an amiable, easygoing demeaner that will neither disappoint or set the world on fire. A nice wine to drink while you're waiting for your other vintages of Haut Bailly to age.
2001 Château Pape Clément-This wine is packed, but shows itself in a fairly restrained way. Not to say that this isn't made in a modern style, it is. The fruit is sweet bordering on jammy, but I didn't feel that it got out of hand, as there were ample tannins and good acidity. Common sense says to wait on this one, although it is certainly drinking well now with some fine secondary characteristics of spice and licorice. The style of this wine is not going to appeal to everyone, yet there is no denying the talent that went into making it.
2002 Château Haut-Bailly-While others seem to enjoy the '02 vintage, I have not and this wine did not convert me. It's a hard, steely wine that reveals little on the nose. It is pretty angular and doesn't give much more than structure and the slight astringency that I've found common to the vintage. Perhaps age will soften it up as it is well-made.

Young Pups
We finished with some great youngsters that show great promise. The star of the night though was the '05 HB. An absolutely stunning wine and I put my money were my mouth was the next morning by purchasing a case.

2004 Château Haut-Bailly-This wine seemed to be in a bit more modern style than other vintages. It had some nice fruit and some Graves undertones, but it had a bunch of oak as well. The results are much better in the mouth where you get a little bit more of the purity of the fruit. It's pretty big boned and quite tannic that should give it some structure to age and integrate, but it was somewhat lacking in acidity and that worries me a bit. Still not a bad effort for a vintage that hasn't warmed my heart.
2004 Château Pape Clément-A big and juicy wine. The nose is all about power with waves of cassis hitting you with little subtlety. It is not without complexity however and it already is showing some nice secondary element of Graves. It doesn't seem to be going for elegance, but may acheive it in spite of itself if it can shed its youthful exhuberence. It also may veer off into pure decadence. For now though, it comes across as a bit blowzy despite some good structural elements.
2005 Château Haut-Bailly-Wow, what a wine. The nose is explosive, yet precise, filled with pure, fresh fruit and typical Graves notes and baking spice. This wine is a dream in the mouth with so much fresh fruit that you don't mind the ample but super-fine tannins. An undercurrent of acidity knits the package together. Exquisitely put together, this wine was a star that should easily top the wonderful '89 and '90 vintages.

The Anti-Wine Snob

2008-01-19T13:00:00.000-05:00

The Wall Street Journal (subscription required) has dubbed Master of Wine and former wine drinker Jim Hanni the "wine antisnob" in this marginally interesting hagiography. All in all, it's a pretty shoddy piece of journalism. For example, the subject of the article is the sole source for POV of Hanni's importance to the wine industry (e.g., "Mr. Hanni was immediately 'a god in the wine world,' he says.") While Mr. Hanni is purportedly the anti-snob, the article never clearly defines what it means by "snobbery," but that shouldn't be terribly surprising from a piece that refers to Loire Bordeaux (comparing it to Tuscan Brunellos-so it's wrong on so many levels). I almost hate to point out that uneducated error for fear of being called a wine snob myself!

The major thrust is that one shouldn't feel bad about liking white Zinfandel; they can't help it, physiologically speaking, because they are prisoners of their taste buds. That to me sounds a lot more snobbish than educating someone on better (yes, better) wines that have similar attractions, but are seriously made. "I'm sorry, Mr. Jones, you like white Zinfandel due to your genetic make-up" "But Doc, can't I have a Riesling?" "No, I'm sorry, there's nothing we can do for you." If the focus is getting people to pick wine on a one-off basis, then I think it' a reasonable approach to getting people started on their wine journey. However, if the idea is to educate people to think constructively about wine choices, then it fails entirely. The bias seems to be that the hoi polloi can't be educated, so we might as well dumb things down to their level. I really object to that way of thinking.

Parker Incapacitated-Last Call on '05 Bordeaux

2008-01-19T12:15:00.000-05:00

Eminent critic Robert Parker is currently dosed up on drugs following back surgery and not drinking any wine. Normally, he'd be tasting in Bordeaux in advance of his third and definitive rating. Meanwhile, the Bordelais with their very expensive product must be waiting with bated breath for his recovery and his final scores. This may be the last opportunity to get your hands on the "vintage of the century." After the scores come out (and I'd be shocked if they are anything but up, up, up), the wines will most likely go from outrageously expensive, to astronomical to gone baby gone.

Quite frankly, the only reason I follow Parker's advice on BDX is that you know the prices are going to skyrocket on the best rated wines and get out of reach. As an actual guide based on the taste, rather than pricing trends, I much prefer Neal Martin's reviews. He's been a real breath of fresh air over at the Wine Advocate, bringing a disparate view to a publication that has long been dominated by one voice (and one palate). I find the most useful thing is to try to triangulate between the two of them, as a truly great wine will appeal to any palate.

Ruminations on the 1988 Dunn Howell Mountain

2008-01-11T22:40:00.000-05:00

Why do we anthropomorphize wine? Wine can not literally be like a woman or a car or any of the myriad other descriptors wine geeks use everyday. So what is the point? It is because you can't really share a taste, a smell or a tactile sensation with someone without creating an analogy to a shared experience. What raspberry means to you as opposed to me is likely quite different. Is it wild raspberries? Is it the frozen kind? You see what I mean. That brings me to the 1988 Dunn Howell Mountain Cabernet and my late grandfather.

My grandfather, my father's father, although a college graduate, worked as a foreman, a carpenter, a laborer, among other jobs. He rode the rails out West during the Depression and built PT boats during World War II. He grew up poor, which taught him to save any money that came his way; he died with rather impressive personal wealth like a squirrel that was saving for the next Ice Age. He was a smart man, but not an intellectual man. He taught me that any job worth doing is only worth doing right. He was a hard man, as you can imagine, and physically one of the strongest men I have come across. Not in a hulking sort of way, mind you, but sinewy and lanky. He went to the gym every day well into his 80's and took pride in showing up the younger men in the weight room. But, he got old (as men do) and he developed heart disease and he was almost mystified that his prodigious strength was abandoning him. The last time I saw him, as I was explaining to him why he couldn't do all the things he had once done, he took me to his basement and explained to me that his basement was once unfinished and that he had sheetrocked the ceiling...by himself. It remains achingly heartbreaking. I am glad for that though, to know him like that, to see the vulnerability of age mixed with the reminiscence of the power of youth.

I was thinking about him when I was trying to describe the 1988 Dunn Howell Mountain Cabernet that we enjoyed on New Year's Eve. It was a wine that was a shadow of a different age when it was most likely massive and backward, imbued with raw power. I didn't know it then and can only go by accounts of others, as I had heard stories of my grandfather. Aromatically, it was interesting and complex showing some dusty cassis and herbs, as well as a bit of fennel. Savory and soft in the mouth, it showed good focus and finesse without any true elegance. Not lithe like a dancer, but more like lean, muscular, slightly withered older man. A hint of a once more powerful self. It had a nice earthiness to it, but it finished with a slight astringency that was distracting without ruining the overall impression. Like my grandfather...

Is Drinking Wine a Personal Loss or Gain?

2008-01-09T22:04:00.000-05:00

One of my favorite writers about wine today is Sharon Bowman. An American living in Paris, her discussion of wine flows naturally into the broader life's narrative.

Well, Sharon hasn't written anything yet this year, so I was rummaging through some of her older posts and I came across this beautiful rumination on whether loving wine is about loss. She essentially posits that, since every bottle is different, drinking that bottle is an act of destruction that leads to a sense of loss. There is some truth to that. I think about it a little differently. I feel that a great wine becomes something that becomes part of me and changes me just a little. In that way, it lives on immutable and it retains its character in my memory. So, there is a degree of loss there, but also an act of creation. As Picasso reminded us, "Every act of creation, is first an act of destruction." That is why I am not melancholy. Wistful at times, maybe, but I remember the words of Pasternak in Dr. Zhivago, "You in others-that is your soul." So, nothing is truly lost as long as it is passed on.

Anyway, it is all worth reading and thinking about, if for no other reason than this line: "[Wine] is a philter, and a filter for our experience and our emotions."

Terry Theise on Gout de Terroir

2008-01-09T18:13:00.000-05:00

I came across this great quote from Terry Theise today. It's brilliant stuff really and in one sentence clearly lays out the battle lines on the topic. I suppose, one man's dirt is another man's dirty.

[Gout de terroir] means "crude or flawed flavors resulting from lazy or ignorant winemaking" if you don't believe in terroir, and "a clearly discernable flavor of distinctiveness taking the form of specific fruit, flower or 'mineral' nuance" if you do.

For those unfamiliar with the term, it literally translates from the French as "taste of soil" and refers to the notion that a wine should taste like where it came from, both in terms of site and vintage. The converse would be a "spoofilated" wine, which essentially means a wine doctored beyond definition of site and vintage by winemaking techniques, such as the use of oak. As with all things, the truth probably lies somewhere in the middle.

Dinner at Ruths's Chris in NYC (A Dirge in the Form of a Limerick)

2008-01-08T18:49:00.000-05:00

Unfortunately the wine list revealed
nothing good but an overpriced Rothschild.
Do we save money with Oz
and order a Shiraz?
Honestly nothing else quite appealed.

So we went with the Art Series from Leeuwin
which showed oak and some fruit that was stewing,
plus a little more than a hint
of eucalyptus or mint.
Quite frankly it's not a wine worth pursuing.

Still as spoofilated as it was
We ordered another bottle because
sometimes you will trade
a wine that's well-made
for a serious alcoholic buzz.

Just Because I'm an Environmentalist Doesn't Mean I'm a Sissy

2008-01-05T12:47:00.000-05:00

Hilarious video from our friends at Funny or Die. Will Farrell, John Reilly and Adam McKay are The Green Team, eco-maniacal pollution busters.

Underrated Bordeaux Vintages

2008-01-05T12:30:00.000-05:00

Generally speaking, I'm a big fan of buying "on vintage" for Bordeaux. That said, I've really fallen in love with the 1981 vintage. The Wine Advocate completely ignores the vintage entirely in his Vintage Chart. Ignores it. Not that I'm complaining, it makes for some easy pickings in the secondary market. Recently, I've had some effortless bottles of La Mission Haut-Brion and Ducru Beaucaillou. Classic Clarets both. They share delicate, sophisticated aromatics and glide with a gentle finesse across the palate.

Maybe it's time to rethink my vintage bias? Probably not, given the prices of Bordeaux these days. Better to be safe than sorry, but when you find that hidden gem...

5 Classic Works of Literature

2008-01-05T12:05:00.000-05:00

There's an interesting discussion going on Lyle Fass' blog Rockss and Fruit. Lyle, as part of his New Year's resolution, wants to read "five of the world's classics books."

I recommended this list, which is a pretty good starting point, albeit for use as a reference tool and not as definitive list. Here are my five:

The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner may be the South's greatest contribution to the English language other than the second person plural (y'all).
I, Claudius by Robert Graves is one of my favorite novels of all time. It's wicked and wickedly funny and renders another time in a perfectly modern way. I couldn't put it down.
John Dos Passos' U.S.A. trilogy deserves to be up there with Faulkner and Hemingway, although hardly anyone reads it (maybe because its like a 1,000 pages of trilogy). Generally speaking, I'd pick Hemingway over Dos Passos, but I like the cache of having read a classic novel that most haven't even heard of. A masterful work of historical fiction.
The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera is wonderful non-linear novel. Maybe not his best work, but certainly his most complete and accessible.
...and, of course, The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov is my favorite novel. He effortlessly interweaves the story of the devil coming to Moscow with the story of Jesus and Pontius Pilate. There's tons of inside jokes in Russian, which you don't have to get to enjoy the novel, so you need to be mindful of the translation.

Tough to leave out Garcia Marquez, Ondaatje, Vidal, Nabokov, Hemingway, Whitman and others. What would be your top 5?

Thoughts on Blind Tasting

2007-12-19T18:48:00.000-05:00

Blind tastings always reveal something that you weren't expecting. They provide the benefit of removing price and label bias, but I think the current view that blind tasting is the "great equalizer" is very much overstated.

While you have indeed taken one layer of prejudice out by tasting blind, you have added a different level of prejudice. The reason being, of course, that when you take out all the externalities you lose a lot of other context that we all use in judging a wine. So, while it may be an equalizer, it is essentially regression to the mean, equalizing all the wines on their particular showiness at this type of tasting as you've essentially eliminated the intellectual aspect of tasting wine. Knowing the age, varietal or other factors can change your view in a positive way in terms of viewing a wine within its proper context. For most tasters, who taste a wine over its entire life, this is very important.

Further, given the usual format, there is only a relatively short window to taste before making a judgment. This rewards showy wines and relies on each member of the group to treat the wine right in terms of decanting and serving temperature. The problem is accentuated by the lack of experience of most tasters in this type of setting. Personally, I can't say that I'm typically surprised how things show blind as I try to maintain enough discipline to realize the shiny object may be cubic zirconium. Patience is a virtue in not rushing to a view as wines change constantly in the glass.

Mind you, I'm not being critical about blind tastings or their value, I just believe we all need to be mindful that they don't show us as much as we think.

Sorry for the Lack of Posts

2007-12-19T18:47:00.001-05:00

There are always a million reasons not to do something. I'm back and will be more diligent!

A Sad Day on eBob

2007-11-22T10:17:00.000-05:00

I've been a frequent denizen of the chat board for Robert Parker's Wine Advocate. I've learned a tremendous amount and made a bunch of friends...and as the things we love and value disappoint us the most...it is with great regret that I note that Lyle Fass has been banned from the board. I've learned a tremendous amount about wine from reading his posts and blog (Rockss and Fruit), as well as visiting him at his shop.

Mark Squires had best remember the words of John F. Kennedy. “Those who make peaceful revolution impossible, make violent revolution inevitable.” As competing voices are drowned out it only reinforces the (erroneous) notion that M. Parker is trying to dictate taste in the wine world. Alice Fiering spoke on her blog of her banning. Even when snarky and condescending, as I often find Ms. Fiering's writing to be, I am drawn to it for no other reason than it is deemed taboo. I've even learned a thing or two, although I have as yet caught the disease that makes good people reject fruit as a flaw (see I can be reductive and marginalize points of view too). The more voices the better. We should not be afraid of ideas and we must always have the courage to confront our own beliefs and examine whether they stand scrutiny.

Mostly, we must fight for those that disagree with us, lest we become what we have beheld in horror. In the words of Keith Levenberg (or was it Niemöller), "First they came for Merlot and I did not speak up because I was not Merlot."

Autumn in Piedmont in NYC

2007-11-20T21:33:00.000-05:00

A wonderful evening last night with great people and 3 decades of Nebbiolo. I can't think of a better way to spend a rainy Monday night. I'm a big fan of the variety, especially when it starts kicking into gear at around age 25.

Starters
2000 Louis Jadot Meursault 1er Cru Les Perrières - France, Burgundy, Côte de Beaune
Not bad. It had some nice pure Chardonnay aromatics with smoked cashew notes that became more pronounced over the evening and made it seem older than it was. Perhaps a hint oxidized, but more likely just the character of the wine. It was quite round and creamy with decent acidity that kept everything in balance, but did not create any vivacity. I would have liked to see more minerality as well, although all in it is a nice wine that didn't aspire to greatness.
2003 Michele Chiarlo Barbera d'Asti Superiore La Court - Italy, Piedmont, Asti
It's not often you see a Barbera d'Asti striving for elegence, but this one does and almost succeeds. It lacks the rusticity and fleshiness of BdA, but it doesn't quite shed it's ruggedness. The trick here seems to be to use the tannin for structure around black, slightly sour fruit. It had a nice acidity that tied it together. Certainly a good wine for every day Italian food.

What's better than old Barbaresco...
1978 Produttori del Barbaresco Barbaresco - Italy, Piedmont, Langhe
A big and weighty wine that speaks its the vintage in Piedmont. It started out quite funky with a touch of band-aid that blew off pretty quicky. It left a rather feral nose of smoke and bloody meat. Certainly interesting, albeit not exceptionally elegant. It showed great presence though on the palate with significant weight and ample fruit floating over a lively acidity. I appreciated the typicity both to the grape and the vintage and I really enjoyed it, although it is not without its flaws. It certainly has years left.
1983 Gaja Barbaresco Costa Russi - Italy, Piedmont, Langhe
A pretty wine with a lot of charm, it seemed pretty textbook Barbaresco. Someone mentioned that Gaja would probably have objected to that statement, but there you are. The delicate nose gave sour cherry and rose petals and picked up hints of licorice. The palate could have used a bit more weight and the acidity overwhelmed the finish a touch. Still, a very nice presentation given the vintage. I'd bet a lot of winemaking went into making this this good.

...old Barolo
1971 Giacomo Borgogno & Figli Barolo Riserva - Italy, Piedmont, Langhe (red cap-original release)
This wine had the disadvantage of having travelled on a train and being shown next to the stellar 1974. It came around in the glass to some degree, but it never shook off the slightly balsamic nose. I think it may have been an off-bottle.
1974 Giacomo Borgogno & Figli Barolo Riserva - Italy, Piedmont, Langhe (black cap-library release)
Just a wonderful wine. It was exceptionally lively in the glass and crystal clear, belying its age. The nuanced fruit showed amazing freshness, meeting you on the way to the glass. Great Barolo characteristics with some other subtle, interesting ones such as white chocolate. An undercurrent of acidity pulled the soft, silky fruit along to the finish. Absolutely effortless. Consensus WOTN.

Not so old Barolo is nice too
1995 Giuseppe E Figlio Mascarello Barolo Monprivato - Italy, Piedmont, Langhe
I think we took this one down a bit too young. It was very tight for most of the evening, although it had started ceding ground by the end of the night. I found it well-made and varietally correct, but not mindblowing at this stage. Clearly all the elements are in place though and perhaps the nuance will start to develop with some additional age. This needs at least another five years.
1993 Giuseppe E Figlio Mascarello Barolo Ca d'Morissio Riserva Monprivato - Italy, Piedmont, Langhe
This was a somewhat controversial wine. While surprisingly ready to go, I did not enjoy it at all. Others put it in their top 3, so there you go. I found some eucalytus notes which I thought both odd and off-putting and the sweet red fruit came across a bit candied. Peter suggested that it was more of a red licorice than the black that you'd expect and I thought that pretty apt. The back end of the wine was nice, but this was not a wine for me.
1997 Prunotto Barolo - Italy, Piedmont, Langhe
I liked this quite a bit, although it is more of a correct wine than a blow the doors off wine. It had the great ripeness of the vintage, but it was styled very traditionally, which I appreciated. The nose showed ample black cherries, licorice and tar. The midpalate was a bit fat and fleshy and it needs some time to thin out on its own because the acidity is not high enough to pull off the balancing act.

Baby Barbarescos
1997 Gaja Barbaresco - Italy, Piedmont, Langhe
A very, very young prodigious wine. Tight, tannic and showing plenty of oak, it is more about structure than anything else at this point. The fruit that did show was ripe and concentrated with some smoky licorice. Tons of potential here with a tremendous amount of stuffing.
1998 Bruno Giacosa Barbaresco Asili - Italy, Piedmont, Langhe
A beautifully made wine with a very refined air. The nose is most of the story at this point with red berries and rose petals. Pretty chewy in the mouth with chalky tannins that don't allow the fruit to follow through from the nose. Not profound at this point, it needs a good 10 years in the cellar and could develop a little more nuance. Time will tell.

Idea for an Off-line...Wines You Don't Like

2007-11-15T23:14:00.000-05:00

Everyone brings a bottle of wine that they don't care for, but that everyone else would love. I'd bring a Gruaud Larose. For some reason, that wine just doesn't fit my palate. I've had what clearly were quality ones, but they have never resonated with me, while everyone else oohs and ahhs. I'm talking mature, pristine bottles from various decades. I suppose another would be Copain. People love them and I shrug. More for them. That's what makes it interesting.

Dead Souls-Tiny Book Report

2007-11-15T22:39:00.000-05:00

I just finished rereading Dead Souls by Nikolai Gogol, a book I hadn't read since I was in high school. The plot is simple. Chichikov, an ex-government official, rides into town as a mysterious stranger looking to buy dead serfs (we don't find out the reason until the end, although it is almost beside the point). It is told in 3 acts: negotiation; fall from grace; and the author's revelation of Chichikov's motives and past. It is a surprisingly modern novel (given that it dates to the mid-19th Century) packed with ambiguous characters including a decidedly flawed hero. Gogol's ongoing dialogue with the reader during which time he explains his craft as he is creating it presage Kundera and his open, non-linear style of storytelling. What is also striking is the darkness of the humor. The novel seems to have emanated from a dark part of Gogol's psyche, the starting place of much humor. He shows clear contempt, not only for many of his characters, but often for the reader himself, whom Gogol essentially accuses of misinterpreting his aims or questioning his motives. Gogol often stops himself or articulates that he is crafting his novel in a certain way as to not be misunderstood by the reader. He is like the person that lashes out preemptively with vituperative wit to avoid being hurt. In many ways this is refreshing (and must have been at the time) given that he was a contemporary of Dumas and others whose characters wore their flaws as thin veneer. The flaws in Gogol's characters are fundamental to their being and, in a certain way, he seems to love them more for their imperfections that for their nobler qualities. We recognize the types, but in the end Gogol chides us for that analogizing, telling us to look inward to see how we are Chichikov. While, the set pieces are often hilarious, the novel as a whole is somewhat chilling, strikingly misogynistic and wholly pessimistic as to human nature. Apparently, it was supposed to be the first novel of a trilogy (although this has been disputed) and, if Gogol had answers to foibles of man that he found in Dead Souls, he took them to his grave. A classic, must-read.

St. Emilion Back on Track!

2007-11-14T22:01:00.000-05:00

Decanter reported today that a Paris court decided the suspension of the most recent St. Emilion classification had no legal justification. The classification was challenged by four chateaux of whom I have zero familiarity. Panos Kakaviatos, with whom I will be breaking bread in January (name dropping), noted that the Bordeaux court still needs to reach a final verdict on the fairness of treatment, which could take a couple of months, but that this ruling goes a long way towards ending the madness.

(http://www.decanter.com/news/155587.html)

Using Points

2007-11-14T21:57:00.000-05:00

If you aren't a professional critic or don't have a searchable database for me to peruse all your tasting notes, I do not care about your scores. The fact that it was an 89, but you almost gave it a 90 does not help me. Unless, I'm sitting next to you, I have no idea what it means. Thanks, I feel better now.

OUCH!-a Poem by Ben Sherwin

2007-11-11T21:31:00.000-05:00

Ouch! I dropped a bottle,
dropped a bottle on the floor.
It almost broke my foot I say
when I opened the cellar door.

Ouch! I dropped a bottle,
it was one that I adored,
and let's just say it isn't one
that everyone can afford.

Ouch! I dropped a bottle;
it dropped for heaven's sake.
I only thank the Lord above
that that bottle didn't break.

Confessions of a Wine Buyer-a Poem by Ben Sherwin

2007-11-11T20:22:00.001-05:00

There are myriad wines to buy
from a variety of nations,
but if I don't jump this offer
then the train will leave the station.

How many times have I spoken
those sad and mournful words of dread
either to my fellow wine geeks
or to those voices in my head?

Sure, I'm a bit tapped out this month,
but there's a wine I have to taste.
So, I'll just get a small amount;
nothing more than a single case.

As I sit with tons of mailers,
deciding which one has to go,
I instead go on to Winebid
and quickly backfill old Bordeaux.

Not that I can't be reasonable.
I turn down offers by the pile.
Why I just turned down some Rayas
(but I thought about it for awhile).

It all goes smooth in February
when the checking account is flush,
but things get tight in September
and November is just a crush.

Has this all become a sickness?
Surely, my wife thinks I'm a nut.
I'm just hoping she doesn't hire
someone to kick my butt.

Still, nothing seems to stop me from
jumping on the next "special" deal.
So, I'll go back and year on year
keep on spinning the hamster wheel.

Rules for Vertical Tastings

2007-11-11T19:10:00.000-05:00

Lesson for you kids at home seeking to go to off-lines. The first rule of a vertical is bring a back-up. The second rule of a vertical is bring a back-up. You can guess the third rule. In my defense, I had decanted the bottle (1998 LMHB) and detected no cork in my generous self pour (fourth rule...) and neither did my colleague to whom I gave a sip (a big LMHB fan). It just seemed like tight, classic, steely Graves. When I heard those horrible 7 words, by the way your wine is corked, I was incredulous. I regard myself as decently sensitive to TCA and doubt I would have missed it. Yet, miss it I did as this wine was profoundly corked. So, kids, spare yourself embarassment and bring a back-up. Now I'm stuck planning the next off-line and for the rest of my life I have to hear Paul Jaouen complain about it. That's my penance and hopefully it will be enough for my sin of omission. For what it's worth, prior to being boxed in wet cardboard, it was wonderful, compact wine that had tons of stuffing. You live and you learn...

La Mission Haut-Brion Vertical (03/96/95/92/90/88/86/85/81/78/75/62)

2007-11-11T19:03:00.000-05:00

Great athletes can't all win championships, great actors can't all win Oscars and great wines can't all be First Growths. My ultimate impression from an evening of 5 decades of La Mission Haut-Brion was of a wine that had its own personality, showed amazing consistency and was occassionally stunning. It could be alternatively powerful and elegant, but there was always the leitmotif of concentrated fruit, herbs, cedar and graphite. Textbook Graves. Perhaps the highs aren't as high as with a First Growth, but I didn't get much in the way of real lows and shouldn't consistency and longevity count? Isn't LMBH the Don Sutton of the wine world? It is easy to see buying year in and year out without much risk of disappointment. Great stuff.

Gentlemen, start your engines...
2004 Château Lynch-Bages Blanc - France, Bordeaux, Bordeaux Contrôlée
Clean and tight without much interesting going on. Light lemongrass on the nose and nice acidity. Nothing offensive, but nothing to recommend it at its price point.

Lessons Learned
2003 Château La Mission Haut-Brion
A bit like a barrel sample, it showed a hint of what it could become and then disappeared. Very powerful and extremely well structured, it showed good depth with sweet and smoky blackberry, roasted herbs and graphite, giving way to more and more graphite as the tannic bite took over and it clamped down tight. I don't think this will be a profound wine and should show austere for a while, but I think that it will eventually be a compelling offering.
1998 Château La Mission Haut-Brion
Horribly corked. (flawed)

Wines in a Minor Key
1992 Château La Mission Haut-Brion
A good wine for an off-vintage, all the pleasure of this wine is in the nose. Funky cherries (which is going to be the name of my new band) mix with herbs and cigar smoke to hold your interest until you put it your mouth. It's soft on the entry and hopes are high, but it turns reedy on the midpalate and certainly finishes short, which may not be a bad thing all things considered. Smoke 'em if you got 'em.
1985 Château La Mission Haut-Brion
A classic Claret that, while perhaps lacking some of the power of other vintages of LMHB, displays wonderful elegance and finesse. Delicate aromas of dark fruit, herbs and earth show great continuity through the finish. The palate picks up a bit more of a red berry quality that layers in nicely. It doesn't have a tremendous amount of palate presence, although it was by no means thin. Just a well-balanced effort in which everything seems to fit together beautifully. Mark wonderfully described it as a wine in a minor key.

Yin/Yang
1996 Château La Mission Haut-Brion
One of the most accessable of the '96s I've had, this wine will certainly split the crowd. A dead ringer for a well-made California Meritage, it is loosely knit showing expansive sweet, dark fruit and cedar with a nice earthiness to it. While it lacked the depth of some of the other vintages, it was one of the most open and inviting. It had excellent weight and presence in the mouth, but perhaps lacked the acidity to match the fruit and tannin that the wine possessed. Certainly a great QPR for LMHB that was reminiscent of the '96 Insignia (thanks to Mark again for that insight), but it might not be for those that demand a more classic style to their Graves.
1995 Château La Mission Haut-Brion
A classically-styled Graves that displays a high degree of class, but is a touch aloof. A fragrant nose of wild mushrooms, cassis, roasted herbs and graphite gives way to a somewhat austere steely palate. More power than pleasure at this point, it was fabulously structured and will require considerable patience. Just a bit to tightly wound for me at this stage, this wine will be middle of the fairway for some.

The Power and the Glory
1990 Château La Mission Haut-Brion
A beautiful, beautiful wine. Classic Graves elements on the nose keep expanding and opening new doors with dark fruit, herbs, graphite and tobacco. It has a wonderful presence in the mouth with a perfect ripeness matched with silky tannin. Great acidity gives it a sneaky persistence on the finish. Seamless. The vintage is really hitting on all cylinders right now.
1988 Château La Mission Haut-Brion
An appealing, large bodied wine that has a great deal of personality, but lacks a bit of focus. More of a fruit centered wine with expressive ripe, dark fruit and nice secondary floral elements. Rich and weighty with a long finish, it nevertheless comes across as a bit fat. There is ample stuffing for aging, so perhaps this is just at an adolescent stage. I think this wine may sneak up on people in a few years.
1981 Château La Mission Haut-Brion
My lucky streak with the '81 vintage continues with this elegant effort. A complex nose of flowers, earthy mushrooms and lead dominate over the delicate cherry fruit. Silky in the mouth it glides across the palate with ease. Pure finesse, it will likely go on in this gentle state for years to come, although I don't expect it will get much better. Very classy.

Great Graves
1978 Château La Mission Haut-Brion
Simply a beautiful wine. Classic old Graves with cassis, cedar, tobacco leaf, herbs...really, you could go on and on. It was surprisingly spritely but intensely focused on the palate it showed both great breadth and length. Nothing out of place. This is why we drink Bordeaux.
1975 Château La Mission Haut-Brion
A stunning bottle of wine. If you are lucky enough to have this wine, you will be welcomed by an inviting, complex nose of black fruit, roasted herbs and cigar box. This wine had tremendous presence and weight without an ounce of fat. It reminded me of a professional athlete with its strength and grace. In a word...wow.
1962 Château La Mission Haut-Brion
While corked, at first only the nose was ruined and the palate still showed some great fruit. Really impossible to analyze, but clearly this wine is very much alive (well, not this bottle). (flawed)
1986 Château La Mission Haut-Brion
A young beast of a wine that hasn't even sniffed its peak. The nose was dominated by spicy cedar and tobacco with dark fruit lingering languorously in the background. A touch backward, it is tight, concentrated ball of energy. When it explodes, watch out. The real question for me is whether it can attain the elegence of other vintages. Popped and poured to replace the corked '62, this would have benefited with some air.

Lunch with Norman Mailer and a visit with Lyle Fass

2007-11-11T12:47:00.000-05:00

So, I’m downtown with Norman Mailer at a small café you’ve never heard of sharing a bottle of wine. We had just seen a rare “director’s cut” of La Strada through which Mailer had talked incessantly. We ordered a 2005 Gabriel Billard Pommard Les Vaumuriens that Lyle Fass had recommended to me. Very tight out of the bottle, we had the waiter, a tall thin fellow with a horse face, throw it in a decanter. We had planned to have a beer while we waited, but Mailer downed his in one gulp and called over a bottle of 2005 A.P. Vin Garys’ Vineyard from what was apparently his personal stash in the cellar of the café. The waiter came over and twisted off the cap, handing it to Mailer and asking him if he wanted to sniff it. Mailer goes absolutely berzerk and there was a bit of row that never really got beyond pushing and shoving stage and then Norman Mailer punches me in the mouth. The manager comes over and agrees to waive the corkage and we go back to the Garys’. I found it to be much more reserved than the ’04, which I appreciated greatly. It was pleasantly earthy with fairly tight cherry fruit and decent acidity. A little air brought out some baking spices, although it remained primarily about damp earth and sour cherries. We agreed that it was a nice effort in need of some age, although Mailer wondered aloud whether such a restrained effort was really indicative of Garys’ fruit. He also noted that there was a touch of heat on the finish that bothered him. I didn’t get that at all and noted that people often mistook whole cluster inclusion for alcohol. We wondered whether Andrew used stem inclusion and laughed about it for a while and then Norman Mailer punched me in the mouth.

We then turned to the Billard, which after an hour plus in the decanter had put on considerable weight and style. It was decidedly fruit driven, which surprised Mailer given that Lyle had recommended it. I assured him that Lyle recommended wines to the taste of his customer and not to his own palate and that’s what made him a resource. Mailer was dubious in that way of his and wanted to go over to Chambers St. after lunch and meet him, which we agreed to do. The fruit of the Billard was extremely focused and made the APVin seem a bit loose by comparison. It had a bit of funk and some graham cracker hovering around as well. Ultimately, it was the bright acidity that served as the third rail powering the fruit. Mailer noted how dark it was and I remarked maybe Billard used a long cold soak and we laughed for a while. Draining his last bit of one of the Riedel Vinums that he had brought (he had already smashed the previous three, but that’s another story), Mailer remarked that under $50 was really the sweet spot in 2005 Burgundy as the prices hadn’t run up as much as on the more expensive wines and that there was a lot of value there. I noted that Lyle had made the same comment and then Norman Mailer punched me in the mouth.

I’m rubbing my jaw gingerly when in walks the Dalai Lama with a coterie of what can only be described as monks. He has wearing, of course, the flowing orange robes, which I was never have been a big fan of, but I have to admit were quite in season. I had met His Holiness once at a party at David Geffen’s, although I wouldn’t say I know him. I mean, can you ever really get to know anyone at those parties? Apparently, Mailer and HH go way back (he calls him Tenzin). They wouldn’t tell me the story about from where, but both had juvenile little grins that told me it was probably something good. So, HH sits down with us. He had just gotten back from Chicago, where he and Manlin had put down Bryan Flannery steaks with a killer Chave. HH didn’t recall the vintage, so the only real point of the story seemed to be name dropping dinner with Manlin, which I found off-putting. Anyway, the conversation turns to Richard Gere and we all agree that Shilpa Shetty is a babe and that we would happily be imprisoned on her account. Unfortunately, HH starts complaining about how Gere won’t stop calling him. Mailer starts freaking out because, he claimed, he and Gere had served together in the South Pacific in WWII, which was unlikely since Gere was born in 1949, but there was really no reasoning with Mailer at that point. I’m looking around nervously as the monks begin to hover around the table and His Holiness gets up abruptly and angrily (which was bad form in my opinion), spilling some of Mailer’s wine on the sweater of Steve Wolfe, who happened to be at the next table. There was a bit of row that never really got beyond pushing and shoving stage and then Norman Mailer punches me in the mouth.

After things died down a bit, we finished off the rest of the bottles and made our way to Chambers St. Wines. I introduced Mailer to Lyle and they got along famously, as Mailer had just quit smoking. We talked for a while about the evolution of people’s palates. I noted that it was often difficult emotionally when you stop liking a wine as your palate changes. Does it invalidate your earlier opinion? Is it a question of getting it wrong or is wine so subjective that it is even subjective in a temporal sense of when you drink the wine in its evolution as well as your own? Mailer said he had no idea what I was talking about and Lyle commented that often it is just difficult for people to admit they were wrong. He noted that children learn to eat at a young age and are much more open to being wrong about likes and dislikes, while we learn to drink wine when we are older and are more set in our ways. Mailer agreed with him and we laughed for a while and then Lyle Fass punched me in the mouth.