Lipstick on a Pig

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

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

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

NYers Drink Xpensive Wines

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

Anniversary Dinner

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

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

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

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

Bo Ssam
Ssam I Am.

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Recommended: 2005 Château de Gaudou Cahors Cuvée Tradition

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

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

Trevor in Paris-An imagined evening with real tasting notes

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Subjectivity vs. Objectivity in Analyzing Wines-Part II

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

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

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

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.