WARNING: This is a really long article and may cause you to consume more than your doctor’s daily recommended amount of red, white and sparkling wine.

Wheels down

I teased you a bit last week about my trip to Europe, which yes, was a business trip.  When you literally drink, arrive, unpack, drink, eat, drink, sleep, wake, pack, drink then move, it becomes more than just a casual journey, and I think I missed a drink or two in there.  And I’m the only idiot that can go on such a trip and not have any luggage with wheels.  New luggage is still on my list; the problem is, I prefer to shop for wine :)

Let me cut to the chase, as there are about 120 wines that I tasted, not counting any barrel samples during my four days in Burgundy, which would easily double that total.  I’m sure I missed a few notes along the way.  The trip began in beautiful Mallorca chez Wolfgang Grunewald, and his amazing property.  I almost canceled the entire trip right then and there, it is that special a place.  Wolf still keeps his collection in Switzerland; therefore, it was casual drinking in Mallorca, but it didn’t matter.  A couple days thereafter, the wine got rather serious rather quickly.

Bern, Switzerland was the location, and Pekka was behind the curtain, directing his version of ‘A Midsummer’s Night Dream.’  And the first ‘official’ wine of my trip was the 1961 Dom Perignon.  It’s a good way to start any trip to Europe, I might add.  The debate over which is the best vintage of the best decade for Champagne is always an interesting argument, although I personally go for ’61 over ’66.  This bottle was a hair advanced, mature and warm with aromas of honey, yeast and dirty earth, with a twist of lemon.  The acidity was still outstanding, but the bubbles were more integrated than in a perfect bottle, yet its richness made it still quite enjoyable, despite the fact this was an affected bottle (95A).

Next up was the original ‘shipwrecked’ Champagne, the 1907 Heidseick Gout Americain.  Pekka had treated me to a bottle of this before our own, recent ‘shipwrecked’ auction, and it was consistently excellent, although a bit sweet for my taste.  They called it Gout Americain because it was a much sweeter style of Champagne, made for that sophisticated, sugar-loving palate of the Americans lol.  The 1907 was perfumed and limey, its sugary personality quite evident.  A touch of doc office and burnt rubber seeped out of the glass, as if the 104 years of age was speaking first.  Fresh cut grass was also present in its complex nose.  The palate was round, sweet and lush with a yeasty finish.  It was round and tender, wine-like and soft, with a nice citrus mélange of flavors.  Pekka then told us this had about three-to-five times the normal sugar as a standard Brut (94)!

The first red wine was a magnificent one, a 1945 Latour.  My love affair with the ’45 Latour has long been documented, as I have been fortunate to always have great bottles of this wine, finding it one of the most under-heralded wines of arguably the greatest vintage of all-time.  Its fantastic nose was deep, rich and minty, oozing out cassis and walnut at a glacial pace.  There were layers and layers of spice, a blend between North African and Latin American…or perhaps this bottle was well-traveled J.  If it was, it traveled well, as its palate was rich, luscious and thick with a creamy, nutty and bricky personality.  Its acidity was outstanding, and the ’45 Latour was still rock ‘n roll to me (98).

What better wine than 1961 Latour to have next?  The ’61 is Pekka’s personal #1 wine of all-time, and he has had it over 100 times.  Man, I thought my fifteen-to-twenty times tasted was pretty strong…the ’61 was another classic, again deep and brooding, full of signature walnut and cassis, with a hint of exotic berry and fig.  Caramel and mocha drizzled about the nose.  Its palate was also long and thick with perfectly-centered, lengthy acidity and an endless finish.  The ’45 was more seductive with its kinky fruit, but the ’61 would win a back alley fight.  There were great slate and stone flavors on the finish.  This was an extraordinary bottle (98+).

The next flight was billed a Jancis vs. Pekka one, as a wine from their respective birthyears were on display.  A 1950 Lafleur was a welcome change of pace with its classic Pomerol nose.  There were loads of creamy plums there, along with a deep, nutty quality.  Someone called it, ‘extremely silky, wonderful to drink.’  The palate was gamey and sweet; it reminded me of other, sweeter vintages of Lafleur like 1982 and 1983.  Silk kept coming up in my notes, along with sweet, and royal garden.  Jancis called it, ‘one of the most hedonistic wines I’ve ever tasted’ and also found it ‘very Burgundian’ (96).

A 1962 Vega Sicilia Unico had a creamy, exotic nose of caramel, coconut and coffee.  It was nutty in a macadamia-brittle way.  The palate was round, soft and tasty, with a warm, smooth finish.  It was as seductive as the Lafleur, but not as powerful.  Someone remarked that the Unico was ‘coarse’ next to the Lafleur (94+).

A curious fellow came along in the form of a 1928 Chevillot Tache-Romanee Negociant bottling.  You’ll have to ask the Burghound or The Inspector for the full story, but I did jot down that this was the original 1.5 acres of La Tache.  Its nose was deep and fascinating, with black cherry fruit and great musk and spice.  The palate was round and soft, with black fruits joining the party as it unfolded.  There was a big, long finish of rusty, citric fruit and hidden, lingering acidity.  It was a touch square, but still outstanding, although it was a little ‘negociant-y,’ ie that touch of unoriginal factory.  Thankfully in this case, it didn’t murder the wine :) (95).

Next up was another Negociant bottling, one of the most famous, Vandermeulen.  I have had a few superlative VdM bottles over the years, but more disappointments.  The 1923 DRC Romanee Conti Vandermeulen bottling was no disappointment; it was thrilling.  This bottle came from the same case as multiple ‘100 point’ bottles, per Pekka, even there is no such thing as 100 points J.  It nose was fabulous, with that classic, old RC quality.  Aromas of tomato, rose, bouillon, saucy red fruits and a kiss of normal-for-the age oxidation harmonized magnificently.  There was also great citricity, and the palate had an incredible texture full of flesh and thick flavors.  Its aromas carried over to its flavors, along with some beef and stalk, and its zippy finish said ‘age me more if you can bear to wait’ (98).

A 1979 Henri Jayer Vosne Romanee Cros Parantoux, in and of itself a great wine, almost seemed lost in the shadow of the RC.  It was a bit wild and grassy, beefy and barny.  Its fruit was more purple, and the palate much brighter.  It really hit a high note in the mouth, its autumnal edge blending in with mature bouillon flavors. What really set this apart was its finish, which felt like a peacock soprano blended with a screaming organ; translation: impressive acidity (95).

The tasting was now finished, and dinner would soon begin.  In the interest of actually finishing this article, here is the summary of dinner, along with a quicker summary thereafter:

That’s where I threw in the towel, even though there were some Ports and such still coming.  It had been about eight hours of tasting including a short break, and I was officially done.  Some notes about the above wines:  The Aile d’Argent is the white wine made by Mouton, and I enjoyed it thoroughly.  It was classic white Bordeaux and tasty, something I could easily drink all night.  I have always liked SQN whites, finding them unique and hedonistic over the years.  The Roussanne/Chard/Viognier blend of the Albino was kinky, as these whites always are, and exotic.  The wine was about as muscular and monstrous as whites get.  The Pichler was a barrel sample and had amazing aromatics, but it was shut down on the palate.  It had New World fruit, but Old World character.  I do love Austrian whites and find myself casually drinking them more often.  The Conseillante Negociant bottling had an interesting nose that was aromatic and cake-like, with black and strawberry fruits, but the palate was citrusy and dry, lacking complexity and fruit.  The Petrus was oxidized a bit, so it was tough to see it in all of its splendor.  It was still drinkable, in a salty and rusty way, tight and bright. 

The 1950 La Mission Haut Brion magnum gets its own note, as it was that delicious.  I have debated with others whether La Mission is the most consistent Chateau of the 20th century, as far as the quality of its wine every year, as well always making a great wine in a great vintage.  This was classic La Miss, with aromas of gravel, charcoal, chocolate, tobacco and band-aids on the toes.  ‘Fresh herbs and buckwheat’ called out someone, and this magnum didn’t show an ounce of deterioration.  The palate was delicious, incredibly consistent with its delectable nose, along with some stone flavors and a dry caramel kiss.  It was a wow wine (96M).

Back to the regular program, the 1924 Clos de la Roche by not-sure-who was a bit oxidized but decent, dirty yet enjoyable, which is kind of how you want an experience to go with someone when you don’t know their name lol.  Even though I am not a big drinker of sweet wines, it was hard not to notice the greatness of the 2001 Yquem.  This was so rich, so oily, so special, with coconut and cocoa butter and an exotic passionfruit, peach and apricot three-way unfolding dramatically in front of me.  So creamy, so incredible, it was much more than just so so.  The Pavie had apparently been opened for nine hours; perhaps they should have waited another nine days.  There were some artificial aromas I didn’t care for, along with a simple square palate.  It felt manufactured, and the nine hours of air-time really exposed its flaws.  L’Eglise Clinet has been on a roll the last ten years, and the 2005 played to the strengths of the Chateau and the vintage.  It was rich and concentrated, full of acidity, with other words like ‘classic, brooding, heavy, royal, plum, chocolate, rocky, dry’ in my notes.  2005s are still quite infantile, by the way, too big for this early enjoyment at a top level.  The Gaja was a significant wine for Angelo Gaja, as it was the first year he bought American oak and barriques, so he is very proud of this vintage.  It was leathery and dry, a bit simple and sandy.  The Tertre Rotebeouf reminded me of Syrah more than Bordeaux; again the raging bull quality of 2005 shined a bit too brightly.  This was another big, aggressive wine with huge acidity and a concentrated personality.  This was more beefy and gamey than the L’Eglise, a touch stewy and quite inky.  The Incognito was Grenache all the way with its strawberry and rhubarb nose.  SQN is one of the few wines where I can drink this uber-concentrated, Cali style - huge, sexy and over the top.  The ’76 Yquem was excellent, but merely that.

And that was my first tasting in Europe this summer, and I was officially ready for duty.  A quick train ride found me in Basel the next day, preparing for the first of many day/night doubleheaders.  The highlight of lunch was a lovely 1953 Comte de Vogue Musigny Vieilles Vignes.  The nose spoke of vanilla ice cream at first sniff, along with some deep and rich black cherry, and a little kiss of almost gasoline.  There was a stinky edge to its rusty and earthy flavors, and vanilla was present again on its round finish.  Tender, old sandalwood and strawberry flavors emerged.  It was a touch warm, so we chilled it a touch, and spice and oil came out more.  Our gracious host found it ‘deep’ and ‘meaty,’ and ‘more toasted’ when warmer.  The wine was a beautiful ’53, tender and loving like a warm welcome (93).

I have found most bottles of Cristal post-1996 a bit tight and lacking the complexity I desire.  I hope the formula hasn’t changed since then.  The Jayer-Gilles was dark and woody for a Burgundy, almost Spanish, and it was brawny and clumsy.  The DRC was a bit green and stalky with some beef stew in there.  Stems, tea, spice, broth, citrus and root cola were all present, but the ’97 was a bit primitive and not fleshy or meaty like a good ’97 can be.

I was blown away by a bottle of 2004 Deutz Blanc de Blancs before dinner.  I was expecting something young and tight, but it was absolutely delicious.  Creamy and balanced with delightful buttered sugar qualities, the Deutz delivered a full-bodied yet fine experience, giving me hope for 2004, although I couldn’t tell you much about the vintage now – it’s too young for me to pay too much attention yet :) (95).

There was also a 2002 Amour de Deutz that we sampled, and even though I think it is also Blanc de Blancs yet more expensive, I preferred the 2004.  The 2002 had lots of strength but lacked layers, and its bubbles were a bit aggressive (91).

Ok, since there were only three more wines for dinner, I’ll keep writing this one up to the very end.  The first was a 1999 Dujac Clos de la Roche.  Dujac is one of my favorite things, and the nose on the ’99 reminded me why.  There were great aromatics of purple rain, comprised of stem and earth, a pop of kernel, and deep, wide fruit.  One of our friends noted ‘bacon,’ and the other ‘nice wood.’  The nose left a dusty and zippy impression, intoxicating with its wealthy fruit, but the palate was soft and completely closed.  It was as if it was a completely different wine.  Even Sebastien, our European director who accompanied me the entire trip across Europe, noted that the palate was ‘not as joyful as the nose.’  It was likened to an English girl, ‘showing you a lot but then nothing in the end.’ Hey, I didn’t say it, I’m just the messenger.  It got better with some food, but then took a step back after the Barolo that followed.  It was like a 97-point nose and then a 91-point palate.  I was on the 94-point border, but like I said, the Barolo knocked it down a peg.  I am curious to revisit this wine again in a couple years, but right now, it needs time (93).

The Barolo that followed was a 1990 G. Mascarello Barolo Monprivato, a special wine.  Its sweet, black nose was glazed in baked soy, leather, tar and Nebbiolo dust.  It was very aromatic, and its palate was also soft at first, at least softer than I expected.  Sebastien noted, ‘black tea,’ and the wine started to show off its excellent acidity.  Eucalyptus was also noted, and while the wine became outstanding with some time, I was a bit surprised how charming this wine was.  I was always under the impression that 1990 was the type of year in Piedmont that would last 40 years, but this bottle had me wondering if I should be drinking a few more of these up sooner (95).

A 2004 Cos d’Estournel was so young, but like ‘honey to a young bee.’  We had a Bordeaux lover amongst us.  A touch of oak grilled its nose, along with corn stalk, cassis, pencil and earth.  Some blueberry twists emerged on the palate as it aired out, along with some butter and caramel.  While pleasant and classic, it was anti-climactic (91). 

And that was day two.  Don’t worry, there are only twenty-three days left.

A quick flight to Nice had me there in time for dinner, and I sampled a trio of old and tasty Remoissenets with a longstanding industry insider.

1966 Remoissenet Gevrey-Chambertin Combottes               (91A)
1959 Remoissenet Grands Echezeaux                                    (94)
1966 Remoissenet Clos de Vougeot                                        (92)

These were all quite tasty and enjoyable wines.  Remoissenet used to be one of Burgundy’s most important Negociants, although the purity of their wines has been debated, as they were a big believer in reconditioning their wines, which is why old Remoissenets always look perfect.  Regardless, I always find old Remoissenets sweet and pleasing with little to no defaults, and these were no exception.  They won’t hit the heights of other great, old wines, but they are always solid.  Of note, there are new owners at Remoissenet committed to bringing the brand back to elite status, so stay tuned.

It was off to Burgundy, which was the longest stop of any place during my month abroad, and there’s good reason for that.  Generally speaking, I like to drink Pinot, and there’s no place like Burgundy when it comes to Pinot Noir.  Sunday was a travel day, so we kept it light, and Sebastien and I split a bottle of 2007 Dujac Clos de la Roche.  It was absolutely delicious, just a pleasure to drink.  This would become a recurring theme regarding 2007 for the month.  I wouldn’t hesitate to drink any top 2007 now and see for yourself; these are going to be delicious wines for a bit, although not from a ‘great’ vintage.  The wine was excellent, and technically probably 93-points, but if I used the Pekka ratings system of pleasure for this wine, I would bump it up to (94).

I visited numerous top Domaines while in Burgundy, and I was quite impressed with the 2010s.  They are superb wines, more of a connoisseur’s vintage as opposed to the wam-bam 2009s.  I wouldn’t hesitate to go long on 2010.  Something else I found out during my few days in Burgundy is that while 2009 is a great vintage, it isn’t as universally great as say 2005.  There were a couple 2009s that were already stewed, so this easy-to-enjoy vintage might not always be easy.  One producer confided that he thought his ‘08s were better, and I agreed with him.  Don’t get me wrong, 2009 is a great vintage; all I’m sayin’ is 2010 might be better, and could outlast its older brother.

When in Burgundy, time cannot be better spent than with Aubert de Villaine of Domaine de la Romanee Conti.  I had the pleasure of a morning visit with Aubert, who is serious yet compassionate, always full of knowledge and wisdom, and a true ambassador for Burgundy.  Whenever I think of Aubert, I think of the word gentleman, as he defines it. I will only write up one 2010, the 2010 DRC La Tache.  I could have written up the RC, but we all know that La Tache is usually better for the first thirty years :). This wine snapped, crackled and whipped its way to my heart.  Its terroir screamed inside my glass; the acidity was superb. It lingered like an intense orgasm, its black fruit dripping all over.  I better stop there.  I usually don’t give big scores to young wines, but the 2010 La Tache seemed like a no-brainer (97+).

And I will write up the other two wines we had at DRC.  2007 was an early topic of conversation for us, and curiosity got to Aubert, who wanted to revisit an ’07 from the cellar after our glowing review of the Dujac.  The 2007 DRC Romanee St. Vivant was fuller than the average 2007, in a league of its own kind of way.  Blacker in fruit, and much more reserved, it whispered ‘behemoth.’  About as serious as ’07 can get, the RSV wanted us to come back and see it again later, as in a few years later (94).

Aubert and JK tasting '08 Montrachet

The 2008 DRC Montrachet was an unexpected treat.  We couldn’t taste the 2010 Montrachet due to the fermentation or technological reason of the sorts, so Aubert apologetically pulled out the 2008 Monty.  Apology accepted J.  The Montrachet was another full-throttle, delicious wine.  It was rich and exotic with that signature kiss of botrytis that Aubert achieves year after year.  I think Britney Spears may have summed it up best when she said, ‘Gimme more,’ or maybe that was King Angry, I can’t remember.  The King has given up his throne, however, for a nobler pursuit, sort of.  More details to follow next article, maybe, lol (96).

Jeremy Seysses of Dujac, Freddie Mugnier and Jean-Marc Roulot also pulled out older bottles from the cellar.  Jeremy shared a 1995 Dujac Clos St. Denis, which just ‘turned the corner,’ per Jeremy.  1995 was the vintage that everyone gave up on, but this was quite aromatic and savory.  There was wild animal and barny aromas, along with ‘beet root’ and olive.  While this was a ‘great food wine’ for sure, the ’95 was still a touch dry, which was always the knock on it.  This showed better than I expected, and showed why it is often better to buy by producer rather than vintage (93).  Freddie blind tasted us on a 2008 Mugnier Bonnes Mares, which had a ‘wow’ nose.  This was deep, classic Mugnier with a kaleidoscopic nose of red and purple.  Forest, cedar and spice were all pillars in its nose, and its wealth of fruit made me surprised to learn it was a 2008.  There was more fruit here than in most 2008s, but its palate was all ’08, full of spice and acidity on its hot, spicy finish.  It’s been in the bottle one year now, and it was showing delicious citrus and red fruit flavors of cranberry and pomegranate.  Freddie has come a long way with his Bonnes Mares, and he will be the first to admit that he has had to do a lot of work with his particular section of the vineyard over the last twenty years (94+).  Roulot was one of my favorite visits, except for the fact that Jean-Marc plowed us under with more wines than I can possibly remember.  I do remember a 1986 Roulot Meursault Tillets that was divinely mature and delicious, with lots of decadent botrytis and a sweet, corn-fed finish.  This was a fully mature, perhaps a hint overmature, but I loved its hedonistic style.  This was a stripper white, and I stumbled out of there with cash in hand ready to spend, on Meursault, of course.  Jean-Marc has quietly become considered an elite producer of white Burgundy over the past decade, by the way (93).

JK with Frederic Mugnier	JK with Jean-Marc Roulot	JK with Michel Niellon

Of course, a working man must always have dinner, and dinner with Louis-Michel Liger-Belair was a pleasure, as we love hanging with Burgundy’s brightest new star, even though his Domaine is really an old star…see May Hong Kong catalog for more details.  We shared a couple of nice wines, including a big and brawny 1999 Domaine Leflaive Batard Montrachet (94) as well as a tight yet complex 2005 Arlaud Bonnes Mares.  When we asked about someone ‘new’ in Burgundy doing some good things, Arlaud’s name came up more than once (93+).

There was dinner at Montrachet in Montrachet, and 2007 was the ultimate decision again…for the red.  After so much Chardonnay all day, or at least half of it, a man could only be expected to order a 2002 Trimbach Riesling Clos Ste. Hune.  It was fabulous and spectacular as always, another one of my favorite things.  Picture petrol, mineral, mountain, tang, character, acidity and pure Riesling fruit, and there you have Clos Ste. Hune, one of the few white wines in the rest of the world that can compete with Montrachet (95).  Oh yeah, the 2007 this time was 2007 Joseph Drouhin Vosne-Romanee Petits-Monts.  Wines from Drouhin are another one of my favorite things, and this was another tasty and ready-to-go 2007, from a very special vineyard unknown to most.  This was another 92-point wine that was 93 on this given day (93).

Dinner with Eric Rousseau was also a pleasure, especially since he pulled a 1976 Rousseau Chambertin Clos de Beze from the cellars.  When I asked him about the tendency for ‘76s to be good for a short period of time and then fall off a cliff, he replied, ‘not from my cellar,’ touché :).  We had someone in the ’76 corner, a proud father and deservedly so.  The Beze was another delicious Burg, showing rich character and earth and menthol flavors.  This bottle showed the good side of ’76, and it didn’t fall off a cliff (93).  We also shared a ripe 1997 Domaine Leflaive Batard Montrachet.  It had mature fruit, nice balance and acidity that was still vimful.  1997 is sleeper year for whites, although most are probably at that point of no further return (93).

Another must-see when in Burgundy is Allen Meadows, aka The Burghound, the world’s foremost expert on Burgundy, and The Inspector, who is usually not far from Allen during this time of the year.  It just so happens that The Inspector, who has sworn his soul to Burgundy, is born on Bastille Day, and we gathered at Le Bistro de l’Hotel accordingly to celebrate the birthday of one of Pinot’s true princes.

We started with an old bottling of NV Krug Rose, most likely from the early ‘80s.  Its nose was still quite expressive and despite a kiss of fino sherry, there was still earthy, rose fruit there.  There was also wet wool that wasn’t too wooly, and touches of rust and grass.  The palate was full-bodied, tangy and zippy, showing light lime flavors and a very dry finish.  Allen appreciated its ‘complexity’ (92).

A rare 1971 Brunet Meursault Genevrieres had a warm toasty nose with whiffs of wood, and loads of honey and beeswax.  We soon forgave The Inspector for the fact that he meant to pull out a ’71 Ramonet, since the wine was quite excellent.  Its nose was deeper than I expected, delivering a rich, big and luscious impression.  Whitney cooed, ‘Yummmm,’ while the Inspector gave it a pleasantly surprised ‘nice.’  It was tasty in a mature way, with yeasty flavors and solid acidity still.  Someone noted, ‘wild horse kicking up pollen’ (93).

A 1962 Gros Frere et Soeur Richebourg was a spectacular bottle.  The nose was fabulously sweet and perfumed, full of black and red fruits, with a wonderful mix of fruit and spice.  It was sweet, musky and simply great, just another one of those absolutely delicious bottles of Burgundy, with everything in the right place.  Based on a couple of other recent ‘62s, I was starting to wonder if this vintage had seen its best days, but this bottle told me otherwise (96).

The 1978 Jean Gros Richebourg that followed didn’t quite follow suit.  We dove into the Gros family tree since we had Allen with us, I even made a diagram but it’s just way too much typing right now.  Allen then went off on a tangent about Missouri, frogs and Alaska, but I can’t quite put all the details together again.  The ’78 was hailed as ‘mysterious,’ but its aromas were anything but.  A hint of bacon led the way for forest, black fruits, wheat and earth.  It was big but seemed simpler after the ’62, still very good but not close.  More cherry came out in the glass, sprinkled with spice.  It got sweeter and better in the nose, but its palate got lighter (92).

The Burghound using some of The Inspector’s tools on the 1915

We had to have an obligatory 1947 in honor of The Inspector’s vintage, and the 1947 Francois de Montille Volnay Champans was up for the challenge.  Ironically, Hubert de Montille wasn’t around Le Bistro on this night, event though he usually is.  Doug noted, ‘A little VA, but good,’ to which Allen commented, ‘If there is no VA in a ’47, then I’m suspicious.’  There was deep fruit here, a touch sweet a la most ‘47s.  There was brown sugar in this aromatic Beauner, which was almost honeyed.  In the mouth, the Volnay was tasty, sweet, rich and beefy, with bamboo flavors to boot.  Whether the wine was ‘party time’ or ‘over the top’ became a debate between Whitney and Doug.  The wine was sexy, friendly and flavorful, a bit of a stripper Burgundy, but we all know there is a time and place for a good stripper lol; even The Inspector conceded that (93).

A 1947 Couturier Clos de la Roche had that slightly overripe yet not cooked ’47 quality, with more citrus, while someone observed, ‘Vieux Marc and cassis.’  There were nice animal flavors, along with the horse and the saddle.  While I liked the Volnay more at first, the Grand Cru quality caught up with some time in the glass, and the wine became sweeter and lusher.  It was neck and neck in the end (93).

The final wine on this magical night was a 1915 Hotel de Fontainebleau Corton.  Well, the Hotel didn’t make the wine, but there was no trace of the producer on this label, just that it was made for the hotel.  ‘Signature bacon fat and ripeness’ came from Allen.  The wine was super gamy and sweet, lush and tasty with butter, violet and ice cream flavors.  It was also (93).

Pekka’s Wall of Fame

It was goodbye Burgundy, hello Helsinki.   Pekka and Juha were delaying their vacation for my arrival, and they treated me to a trio of Cunes, after a warmup of 1982 Taittinger Comtes de Champagne.  The ‘Tatt’ had a white sugary nose, with an amber apple juice edge to it.  There was light burnt caramel and fresh garden to go with its dry straw and minerally aromas.  A whiff of oak flavors graced its spritely and full-bodied palate.  It was a bit square, with orange peel and white cola flavors on its finish.  Pekka found it ‘very intense and refined as well.’  It seemed mature for an ’82, and Juha noted that it had ‘a Dom nose, but it’s one-dimensional on the palate,’ which was a bit tough, but I understood what he was saying (92).

Our first Cune was the 1944 Cune Rioja Vina Real Reserva Especial.  I have long loved old Cunes, and this bottle thankfully didn’t break my heart.   Juha admired its ‘rich nose,’ and it had a wonderful animal streak, along with a ‘very silky’ and ‘smoky’ style per our two hosts.

Close up of the Wall of Fame

The 1952 Cune Rioja Vina Real Reserva Especial had a similar character, although it was more grassy and pungent at first.  It had that caramel-y, old Spanish fruit as well.  Light leather and nice spice meshed with wheat in the nose.  Pekka found, ‘more structure and freshness’ in the ’52.  Its palate was rich and big but a bit shy, its fruit black and blue with a touch of brown.  Lush, round and sumptuous, the ’52 opened up nicely and felt wealthier and darker than the ’44.  Light coffee on the finish cemented this as uniquely Spanish (94).

The 1966 Cune Rioja Vina Real Reserva Especial was, surprise, similar as well.  Of course, it came across fresher and younger than the previous two, with more vibrancy coming from its wood.  It was the deepest and most powerful of the three, with aggressive male energy.  Rocks and stones were also noticeable nasally.  The palate was more chocolaty with great spice and minerality, and much more acidity.  ‘Powerful yet well-balanced’ came from one of our hosts, along with a couple of other tidbits.  1949 and 1962 are apparently the best Cunes, and Riojas are like Burgundy, while Ribera del Dueros are like Rhones (95).

When in Helsinki, always go to Stockholm, and who better to see in Stockholm than Richard Juhlin, the world’s foremost expert on Champagne.  We had caught Richard for the one night he was in Stockholm around this time.  He brought the bubbly, and we brought the wine. 

A rare magnum of 1995 Mumm’s Cramant came out first.  It was disgorged only two weeks ago, and I think something like only 200 magnums were made, and it’s only available at the Domaine.  Only Juhlin could start off casually with something totally obscure and VIP access like that, although he humbly presented his Cramant as ‘more aperitif’ than dessert, even though Cramants are associated with dessert.  There were milder bubbles, but you still felt its Champagne Mojo.  Sweet and smoky honey aromas mixed with ‘truffle’ and apple notes.  While it was a touch sweeter in the nose, the palate was still delicious and easy to drink.  Sebastien found it, ‘really refreshing.’  It certainly was, as the four of us put down a magnum before four other wines.  Crushed shells worked their way into the nose, and Richard noted, ‘creamy mousse, mineral and honey’ (93M).

Richard then went deep into the cellar with an incredible bottle of 1955 Roederer that was disgorged in 1959 and came directly from the cellars of Roederer before him.  It needed a little time to shake off its cobwebs, and earthy notes emerged first accordingly, followed by wet animal and wool.  Then came the complexity.  Richard noticed, ‘very fresh on the palate with toasted coffee and chocolate, and apricot and orange marmalade.’  Its cepe qualities were big-time per the both of us, and its dusty and dark, old-fashioned style appealed to me.  The palate was mushroomy and white chocolaty, mature with its autumnal fruit and kiss of brown suga, along with an earthy finish.  Richard also found ‘smoked meat and grilled’ flavors.  The palate broadened and became more muscular as the mushroom quality softened; musk soon replaced it.  Bread, wheat and crème brulee made me follow the brick road and its fresh finish all the way home (96).

We continued our quest to get to know 2007 Burgs a little better with a bottle of 2007 Comte de Vogue Musigny Vieilles Vignes.  It was another fragrant and aromatic ’07, soft and sweet but also exhibiting a bit more tension.  There were great forest and citrus aromas, along with hints of truffle and red ‘n purple fruits galore.  This had great character for ’07, and its round, lush palate had bright citrus and spice on its solid finish.  There is this sweet kiss of Cali to all the ‘07s, but I happen to like Cali Pinots, well, except for the really cheap ones, and the really expensive ones, too, come to think of it.  ‘Smooth and mature,’ along with ‘almost marshmallow’ came from the crowd (93+).

Dinner with Juhlin

The 2006 Comte de Vogue Musigny Vieilles Vignes was milder in the nose at first, and wood cellar qualities came out initially.  Strawberry and a touch of liqueur were next in line, followed by meaty wild boar.  It had a thicker yet less expressive palate, and Johan found it ‘a bit rougher and tougher.’  Richard thought the ’06 was ‘a little better,’ and the ’06 certainly was more serious.  Its fruit started to show its gamey side, and it became bigger, richer and more luscious.  Sebastien found it, ‘really serious.’  While ’07 charmed, 2006 was clearly the long-distance runner.  Richard took it one step further, finding the 2007 ‘a one-night stand,’ while the ’06 was ‘a relationship.’  That’s the good thing about drinking a bottle of 2007, you only need it for one night lol (95).

A 2005 Pingus was almost too much, too late.  Oak was immediately noticeable in this thick wine.  While it had a New World feel, it still had the Old World foundation.  This was a monster that was somehow integrated in a massive way.  It was like an oil spill of fruit, with cedar, wood and oak splattered all around it.  The alcohol was a bit forward, and my notes ended with ‘buttery bananas and thunder thighs, Amsterdam-style.’  It’s actually an accurate descriptor (93).

It was off to Germany for a couple days of heavy eating.  This is where my equilibrium started to go off- kilter.  I think it was 22 courses in two days that commenced with a visit with the Terminator.  It started innocently enough with a deep, heavy 1996 Taittinger Comtes de Champagne Rose that was the razor’s edge but a little shut down (94). 

A wild 1920s Mumm’s Cordon Rouge proved to be an exciting bottle, even though the vintage label was deteriorated to the point where we could not determine its vintage.  It was labeled ‘Tres Sec’ and serial-numbered; I suppose it could have been from the ‘30s or ‘40s as well, but the Terminator had reason to believe this was from the Roaring Twenties.  The nose was like apple cider meets molasses, with a sweet, Ben and Jerry’s Heath Bar ice cream feel.  The palate was also apple-y, but more on the apple butter side.  Lush and creamy, there was a caramel kiss on its bubble-less finish.  It continued to get more complex, and banana flambé and oak emerged.  What was most amazing about this wine is that it held in the glass over an hour (95)!

The 2005 Ramonet Montrachet was akin to ice, with a frozen citrus pop to it.  Clean and fresh, its nose felt like rain melting ice.  As it warmed, its great spice emerged.  The wine never lost its small, mean streak, although it was mean in a spank me way.  Shy and innocent yet long and balanced, the Ramonet became meaty in a cut, white fruit way (95).

The next red was a ‘Sinatra/Jimi Hendrix mix,’ per our host.  It was aromatic with dusty red fruits and ‘raisins,’ per Sebastien.  There was great spice, along with tree bark and ‘history.’  It was very complex with its foresty personality, along with citrus, redcurrant and spice cabinet.  Its palate was shier than the expectations that the nose gave me, but it was still quite special.  It became richer and saucier with time, showing more chocolate and spice.  It was a rare 1952 Roumier Bonnes Mares (95).

The last wine was a sweet and gamy 1971 Leroy Bonnes Mares, just how I like my ‘71s.  Its super nose was full of cranberry sauce fruit, with a kiss of Worcestershire.  There was great game to go with its bloody meat and high-pitched fruit, almost lingonberry.  The palate had great spice and tang and sweet, purple fruit.  Still fresh and lush, its soft finish caressed nicely (94).

Lunch at a classic, old restaurant in the middle of Germany featured two excellent Rieslings, and a boatload of food.  The 2001 Schloss Lieser Niederberg Helden Riesling Auslese Goldkapsel was classic.  That’s just way too much to write for that wine; that’s why you never see anyone writing up German wines!  They are getting better at their marketing, though, I’ll leave that write-up to Justin.  It was an Auslese and on the sweet side but still clean and fresh, with minerals and apricots (93).  The 2002 Egon Muller Scharzhofberger Riesling Kabinett was even better, as it was drier, which is what I want.  That’s been one of my biggest problems with German wines; not knowing if a given bottle will be drier.

It’s changing as we speak, so perhaps Riesling will eventually be able to come out of Justin’s closet and take its rightful place next to Chardonnay as one of the two ‘noble’ white grape varieties.  Back to the Egon, it’s safe to say that if there was one German producer to drink, most would choose Egon Muller, and this Kabinett showed why.  It was so clean and fresh, zipping along with citric vim, rainfall, light minerality and a delicious core that was refreshing and so drinkable.  It would probably be a Pekka 95, but really it was (94).  A 2001 Mugnier Chambolle-Musigny Les Amoureuses was Mugnier and Amoureuses at its finest, just stunning.  2001 is another vintage that’s drinking oh so well at the moment, but I think they might last longer than people think and border on the best of other vintages for years to come.  Delicate with a perfect core of mixed red fruits and strong, clean wood qualities, the ’01 went down way too easily.   I can’t help mentioning every time I have an Amoureuses its true definition – two female lovers (95).  I almost forgot, we started and finished with the 1995 Billecart-Salmon Cuvee Nicolas Francois.  It was also drinking so well, full and flavorful with a toasty, wine-like nose.  It had a rich buttery palate and a stony finish.  I was impressed with this Billecart, as I was by an ’86 last weekend (94).

Dinner that night in the Mosel was the first time in my life where I sat down to dinner completely stuffed, that went for Sebastien, too.  This is where we started to unravel, our honeymoon going South by the second as we learned there were two options for dinner, the five-course and the eight.  Sebastien did what any Frenchman would do in this situation; he made sure we got the meal with the steak and foie gras lol.  We slowly pried open the gates to our stomachs through more Rieslings than I can remember.  There was one Riesling, however, that I will never forget, the 1959 JJ Prum Wehlener-Zeltinger Sonnenuhr Riesling Feine Auslese.  It was an extraordinary bottle of aged Rielsing.  I believe Feine is what they used to call the Goldkap, or best selection.  It somehow managed to be perfectly dry and sweet at the same time, both elements incredibly balanced around its mélange of peach, lychee, petrol and old wood aromas and flavors.  Old Ausleses tend to dry out a bit, in a good way, and can be magnificent.  J.J. Prum is the other name in Riesling where you just can’t go wrong (96).

It was off to Paris early the next day, where we had a civilized lunch, only two bottles amongst the four of us.  We went to Kei, a great, relatively new place for those that like to dine in Paris.  We started with the 2000 Sauzet Puligny Combettes, which delivered that clean and refreshing 2000 style with the force and intensity that a great bottle of Sauzet can have.  His wines deserve to be mentioned amongst the elite of Burgundy, but for some reason they seem to be a touch less regarded by the market (93).  We continued our trip through 2007 with a 2007 Rousseau Ruchottes Chambertin Clos des Ruchottes.  This was another delicious ’07, delivering another delicious experience.  It was on the purple side of its fruit expression and managed to find a way to deliver the quality of Grand Cru with the approachability of Village (93).

We went to a relatively old place for dinner, La Tour d’Argent.  While the food there is good and not great, the wine list more than makes up for it.  We invited a Bordeaux-loving Parisian friend and his wife for dinner, eager to show him the heights that Burgundy can achieve.  A 1979 Krug warmed us up with its deep, foresty nose full of apple and caramel aromas.  There were some warm, mature edges to this big and bready Krug.  Its apple flavors showed well on its full-bodied and long palate, even though it felt like the ’79 was finally starting to show some kinder and gentler sides.  There were nice citrus flavors on its finish (95).

A 1989 Raveneau Chablis Valmur was a special wine, and it had us off to a good start in our quest to show some great Burgundy to our new friends.  Its nose was clean and full of waterfall, with a fresh, mossy and minerally personality, oyster shells indeed.  There were light lime and citrus flavors, but this full-bodied white was more about the minerals.  It was cut and long, elegant and still youthful, despite the fact that the acidity was just beginning to integrate.  This was delicious, clean and classic Chablis.  The anticipation of each next sip reminded me of heels clicking on the street around the corner (96). 

The 1989 Coche-Dury Meursault Rougeots was a big contrast to the Raveneau.  Its fruit was wild and gamy, and its personality was Pussy’s sister, Toasty Galore.   There was tangy fruit and light spice rounding out the nose.  The palate was rich and lemony with gamey, exotic tropical fruit and a glaze of something in the Worcestershire direction.  The wine got simpler in the glass and squared up a bit, and the Raveneau kept smacking the Coche down every time it tried to get up.  The Mrs. of our guests, who declared that she would like to be known for Vintage Tastings articles as the Black Panther of Paris, noted ‘smoked crust with ham’ in the Coche.  Meow (92).

It was time for some red, and I selected the always outstanding 1993 Roumier Bonnes Mares; however, there was one problem.  The Roumier was the most shut down I have ever experienced.  The nose was much more closed than I ever remember.  There were bits of rust and spice, and a bit of earth, but all it was showing was back-sided qualities, and not much of those, at that.  Black licorice was observed, along with some rubber tire.  This is always a 96-point wine or better for me but was in a real shell on this night, and it wasn’t the best Burgundy to talk a Bordeaux lover into trading places.  I gave it a generous (93), based somewhat on all the other previous great bottles.

Some treasures from La Tour d’Argent

The 1980 Rousseau Chambertin was up for the challenge and showed off a sexy nose that was sweet, seductive and playful.  Aromas of red fruits, musk, game and vimful cedar danced openly in the glass.  There was tender strawberry fruit, and lovely kisses of leather.  It continued to get more complex in the glass, and out came aromas of shortbread, salt, citrus, mushrooms, truffles…it just kept unfolding and unfolding.  It delivered an outstanding and perfectly mature experience, causing the Black Panther to purr, ‘incroyable’ (95).

The closer was another favorite of mine, a 1990 Dujac Clos de la Roche, but again, I was left a little confused.  Milk and vegetables were the first things to come out in the nose, but deep fruit emerged, with shades of red, blue and purple.  There was no ‘90-itis’ here, as the fruit was also fresh on the palate, displaying nice citrus, along with some stalk and cigar.  It was elegant and reserved, and the cigar elements started to take over, blending into ashtray, forest and olive.  The wine was excellent; however, it is usually outstanding (94). 

The next day in Paris saw lunch at Taillevent, which is always an occasion.  We sampled another beautiful Clos Ste. Hune, this time a 1993.  The 1993 Trimbach Riesling Clos Ste. Hune delivered body, fruit and finish, all in balance as always.  Enough rocket fuel was left to keep this wine in orbit for at least a few more years (93).  A 1996 Phelan-Segur charmed us into dessert.  It was soft, round and easy, a classic claret that was ready to go, yet will be for a while, too (90). 

Dinner saw a couple of Chateauneufs, beginning with a 1998 Chateau de Beaucastel Chateauneuf du Pape.  The Beaucastel was gamy and overripe; I was a bit surprised how mature it was, and it was mature in a figgy and jammy way.  This was not what I remembered as far as 1998, are they overrated?  Then again, that can be said for every vintage of Chateauneuf nowadays (91).   A 2003 Chateau Rayas Chateauneuf du Pape was a bit better, showing signature Rayas strawberry from the high Grenache content.  There was a bit more structure here, although I haven’t had a great Rayas since Jacques passed away after vinifying the 1995 (93).

It was off to Italy the next morning, where we had a top secret meeting with The Chairman that night.  We actually stopped off for lunch in Monte Carlo, what a special place.  What idiot came up with the idea of Paris in the am, Monte Carlo for lunch, then Milan for dinner?  It hurt to leave Monte Carlo; everyone needs to go at least once.  It was a brutal though breathtaking day of travel, and you’re damn right I jumped into the Mediterranean after lunch.  I had to freshen up after all that Ott Rose.

Beautiful Monte Carlo	Valet anyone?

The Chairman doesn’t waste his time or his words, and we were honored by his company, even more so by the wines that he provided on this stellar evening.  Whenever 1996 Krug Clos du Mesnil is served, it is a great night.  It is one of the greatest Champagnes ever made, and it will be a benchmark for me for the rest of my life.  Its nose was deep, big and rich, with aromas of saucy butter, wood, vanilla cream, nuts, oil and yellow musky fruit.  The palate was huge yet balanced, with laser-like acidity and a tidal wave of a finish.  I summed up the Krug with ‘strength and wealth,’ two of America’s favorite things (98+).

The 2000 Laville Haut Brion was like sniffing glue with its fantastic nose of straw and spice…and glue, of course.  It was focused, ‘very straight’ per The Chairman.  While Haut Brion Blanc might be more exuberant in general, the Laville is always seriously good.  Now, of course, it is the La Mission Haut Brion Blanc and five times as expensive.  Tip of the week: buy all the Lavilles you can.  There were great, yellow, sundried flavors, along with glue again.  It had fantastic length and balance, tasty to its core (95).

One of the musts for The Chairman is DRC, and a bottle of 2002 DRC Romanee St. Vivant ensued.  There were aromas of forest, black fruits, cedar and moss, followed by wet earth, lit match, mushroom and a hint of dark chocolate.  The wine made me feel like I was ‘gettin twiggy with it’ thanks to its stems, and wet cedar and bamboo lurked in the shadows.  Flavors of red rose, iron, cedar, earth and minerals were reticent in this wound wine.  It was tight yet showing well, with a fab finish and nice mountain qualities.  Its wintry edge thawed into a gorgeous, long wine (95).

The Chairman then decided to close the evening in strong fashion with a 2004 DRC Romanee Conti.  I was expecting this wine to be closed and shut down, but I was shockingly surprised to find the exact opposite.  I couldn’t believe how good and drinkable this wine was.  I guess that’s why the price of it has gone up 50% over the past year or so; others must be actually drinking it, too.  The first aroma that came to mind was green bamboo.  It got meatier and purple rather quickly, with some green cedar emerging.  ‘So good’ came up repeatedly in my notes, and the palate dripped black fruits.  Pinches of dust and citrus combined with furious rubber and great spice.  Its green was so good, there it was again.  Flavors of garden, bell pepper and brown sugar added up to ‘surprisingly delicious.’  This was definitely the best, young RC that I have ever had, and the only time I can remember one as young as this being certifiably enjoyable in every sense of the word.  The only question I had about it was, will it ever get any better (96)?

2001 d’Yquem was on tap again for the finale.  It coated my tongue with coconut, cream, peach and sweetness.  Luscious and unctuous, it only got (98) this time.

Sebastien found a new appreciation for all things Milanese, but it was time to cross the border again; it was a new day, after all.  We drove North to Switzerland, and things were starting to get serious, as we left The Chairman in order to make dinner with The Judge.  The Judge is, as you might expect, a serious fellow who knows how to lay down the law, but we found that once his robe and wig were left behind at the office, he could let his hair down, although the wines remained serious throughout the night.

We started with an outstanding bottle of 1976 Dom Perignon.  It had a great nose that was toasty and nutty with a hint of wet wool, along with butter and rubber.  Straw and light hay unfolded in this complex Champagne.  Its fruit was decadent in the mouth, showing a bit of white floral, and this full, long and balanced bubbly was easy to finish, alarmingly quickly (95).

A 2001 Marc Colin Montrachet almost seemed to be the obligatory white.  Its nose was sweet and buttery, with that 2001 kiss of botrytis, which is a white thing.  There was nice spice to this creamy and buttery white, not a lot of acidity, or perhaps it was buried by its D-cup fruit.  While tasty and lush, a touch was missing in the middle (93).

A pair of ‘59s reminded us that court was now officially in session, and we first heard the testimony of the 1959 Certan de May.  The nose was still fresh at age 52, and it had the classic Pomerol chocolate, plum and garden.  There was still meat on dem bones in the nose, and light mahogany spice as well.  The palate was soft and tender with strong limestone and clay flavors, and pretty citric tension (93).

The 1959 Vieux Chateau Certan was a bit oxidized with its gamy, molasses aromas.  You could see the Pomerol in it, with meaty, plummy fruit lurking in the shadows.  The Judge was not pleased, finding it ‘a little dry and square.’  The mouthfeel was heavy and rich, although the oxidized quality made it feel like old Nebbiolo more than old Bordeaux.  The wine was immediately exiled by The Judge, with no chance for parole (DQ).

A pair of Gruauds continued our hearing, beginning with the 1955 Gruaud Larose.  Again, an old wine delivered a special aromatic experience.  The ’55 had a gyro-like sex appeal with its meat, carob and caramel nose.  It was fleshy, sexy, spicy and wafery in the mouth, dancing with me immediately while the ’45 watched menacingly from afar.  I couldn’t stop drinking this delicious claret; I have always loved ’55 Bordeaux (94).

The strength of the 1945 Gruaud Larose was self-evident; you couldn’t help but feel its presence.  Its deep black fruit had a touch of cigar and some boxy browned goodness to it.  It was still a bit shy, but so deep at the same time.  While the ’55 said, ‘Hey, how ya doin,’ the ’45 barked, ‘What?!’  Did I already mention that 1945 might be the greatest vintage of all-time (95+)?

The last flight brought us home in phenomenal fashion, beginning with a super-rare 1955 La Passion de Haut Brion.  It had an incredible nose that reminded me of Haut Brion.  Sebastien added, ‘it should be the same wine,’ although this bottling was supposedly from a specific vineyard within the vineyard, per The Judge.  Aromas of coffee, tobacco, meat, sauce, oil and sweet nuts filled my nose with Cabernet dreams, and the palate delivered a wow experience.  This was as Haut Brion as Haut Brion itself.  I wondered how many times they made this wine, as I am not even sure I have seen it before.  There was so much going on in the mouth, I could barely keep up.  There were flavors of coffee, grape and toffee, ‘butter caramel’ as Sebastien put it, along with enough cigar and tobacco road to make any Blue Devil jealous.  Smoky and exotic, there were ‘so many flavors’ per Sebastien.  The last two I added to my notes were ‘dust and desert,’ what a wine (97).

The Judge saved the best for last, and the last wine on this starry night was a 1929 La Mission Haut Brion.  It was surprisingly dark and deep, so black and purple without the usual brown edges; this was a bottle in superb condition.  Its nose was seductive, nutty, sweet and sexy, and its palate was also full of Graves coffee.  It was a veritable French tickler in the mouth, although I am actually not even sure how to use one.  But if I did know, and I did use one, I would doubt it could give me more pleasure than the ’29 La Miss.  Rich, long and lush, the ’29 was filled with chocolate and ‘smoky Habanos’ (98).

The Judge then asked me if there was anything else I wanted for the evening, to which I replied, ‘Czech, please.’

We headed back North for Copenhagen, one of my favorite cities and the third to last major one on our trip.  While I was trying to wind down and get back home in semi-sound fashion, my friends there didn’t let me get off so easily.  We were tasted blind throughout the night and started in the cellar with a couple of obscure bubblies.  The 1969 Jean Thiercelin was easy to drink, still vimful with musk, orange rind, citrus, apricot and burnt sugar from the fireplace.  It did taste about ten years older than the average ’69, which was probably attributable to the producer (92).  The 1982 Dom Ruinart Blanc de Blancs was creamy and nutty with sweet caramel and vanilla, along with a healthy dose of wood.  The oak blew off, and nice white and yellow fruits emerged.  The quality and breed was a step up in this more complex Champer, but it was lacking a touch of freshness, keeping it from the next level (94).

The 1995 Louis Jadot Batard Montrachet didn’t scream Chardonnay and almost seemed Rhonish.  There was a gamy nose of white fruit; this was a Chardonnay that liked to dress up as a Roussanne at night.  It was lush but lacked a bit of definition.  I guessed 1999 for the vintage, and while it had decent butter and game, it was more Rhone than Burgundy, perhaps affected by some premox (91A?).

The first Bordeaux was another 1959 Vieux Chateau Certan!  I was looking forward to trying it again after our disqualified first attempt.  This bottle had a fabulous nose with cassis, black fruit, nut and musk.  There was also great secondary minerality, earth and tobacco.  Its fleshy palate had slaty tang flavors with citrus twists.  It was a bit of a Left Bank impersonator in the mouth, but there was good richness and flesh without weight.  Its finish was a bit stony (93).

The next wine stole the show from the VCC; it felt like First Growth quality, so I was pleasantly surprised to find it be a 1964 Canon.  Its nose was creamy with decadent aromas of plum, cola, black fruits and baked bread.  It had a naturally sweet core and a light caramel glaze.  In the mouth, it was soft but rich, long and balanced.  It just continued and continued on and on, and an exotic spice with an almost jasmine edge developed.  This was grace in a glass and sheer deliciousness.  I think I could have drunk a jero of this…amongst the five of us, of course (95).

The next wine took it up a notch with its more intense and powerful nose.  This wine was full of t ‘n a, and coffee was sprinkled all over its strong alcohol and acidity.  Its nose was 20,000 leagues under the sea deep, and aromas of mocha and mountain jutted up out of its molten core.  The wine was so rich in the mouth, a veritable coffee city along with secondary olive flavors, with noticeable power and lift on its immense finish.  The acidity in this 1970 Petrus was endless (97+).

I grabbed a couple of mystery wines off the list, beginning with a 1993 Comte de Vogue Musigny Vieilles Vignes.  All this great Bordeaux motivated me to take a quick left turn.  I suppose technically, it’s a right, and unlike the Roumier the week prior, the Vogue was classic for its vintage.  It was wound, zippy and earthy with great, intense aromatics and citric vim.  Lemon and catty red fruits continued the fantastic, aromatic parade.  The palate was taut and tangy with earthy grit and ‘massive velvet,’ per Sebastien.  The acidity here was also tremendous; make no mistake about it, this wine didn’t kiss you, it spanked you, and that is 1993 Burgundy.  Musk, cola and fig all emerged slowly out of this intense yet subtle red.  It wasn’t what I would call open, but it didn’t have to be (95+).

A 1973 Trimbach Riesling Clos Ste. Hune was a special treat, and its breed of petrol, peach and apricot immediately took charge. The nose was deep and sexy, and the mouth was full of minerals and ‘extremely mouth fresh.’ It was dry and vimful, with a tickle of citrus and dominating Vitamin C and grapefruit flavors, finishing in high-pitched and balanced fashion. It was amazing to see this bottle show so well at this age. It was as if the bottle came straight from the vault of Trimbach itself, and another testament to the agreeability of the Riesling grape. One of our friends remarked how it was ‘excellent with the goat,’ or maybe it was excellent with his gout, I can’t quite read my own writing (95).

We finished with an outstanding 1963 Quinto do Noval Port that was seductively soft on its finish despite all the usual, power port presentations (95).  There were a bunch of Champagnes that followed, including an oxidized 1959 Roederer Cristal (DQ), but I don’t remember many more details, except a big bill.

Lunch the next day was a concept tough to swallow the next morning, but The Keymaster made it easy to get back in the saddle.  It was another blind afternoon, but the wines consumed made me see quite clearly.  The Champagne was an obscure one, a 1966 Alfred Rotchschild Special Reserve Club Porsche.  I took a lot of notes for it, but in the interest of finishing this article, I will give you the abridged fresh but dirty, light in the mouth, and a bit of ginger ale to go with its Porsche flavors.  I guessed ’61, by the way (90).

The second wine and first white was a young, rock star Burgundy.  It was oh so young, but very sexy and opulent, showing off sweet white fruits and icy white flowers.  Seb found it ‘clean,’ while The Keymaster noted, ‘very floral.’  Its lush fruit had a nice shell of minerality, almost Chablisesque except for the fact that the fruit here was much richer.  The Keymaster continued, ‘It’s surprising how well it is drinking, it has a harmonious finish and is wielded well together.’  It was delicious indeed, light on its feet and elegant in that regard, but fleshy and delightfully drinkable.  The 2008 Bouchard Montrachet got more kinky and floral in the glass, playing up to its exotic fruit.  The Keymaster then told us this was a Burghound 98; yeah, following Allen’s advice is generally a good rule of thumb.  My score is a bit less, but it’s more of a philosophical thing in regard to younger wines; I wouldn’t be surprised to see this climb my point ladder over time, which can be said in general when I score young wines (96).

The second white held its own after the big, bad Montrachet.  It had a much deeper color, and its babooming breasts just spilled out of its nose.  There was a smoky streak right through it, and tang and game were more present.  The Keymaster then told us he decanted this wine at 10am; I think it was about 2pm by now.  The palate was full of mature musk flavors, made more mature by the aeration.  It was rich and round with a great, buttery finish.  It was more tropical when first opened, we were told, and I correctly guessed Coche.  The fruit of the 2001 Coche-Dury Meursault Perrieres was more muscular than usual, which is probably an ’01 thing.  This was fat and and rich, bruising and full of power (96).

The first red wine was clearly old Burgundy, and a great one at that.  I was guessing ’45 and ’34 before being told that it was a 1959 Comte de Vogue Musigny Vieilles Vignes, which was opened, but not decanted, three hours prior.  It had a big, seductive nose that was really old in one regard, but super powerful in another.  Aromas of rose, cherry and tomato were encased by rock, slate and mineral, along with great spice.  This was extremely powerful for a 1959 Burg, as ’59 is usually sweeter, softer and not as acidic.  ‘Tight like a German motor’ came from The Keymaster.  It still maintained the delicacy of Musigny despite all of its power, and its autumnal qualities did not take away from its core of red.  It kept unfolding into iron, rust and desert rock, yet it stayed, ‘silky and sexy’ (97).

What better way to follow up the Musigny than with the 1959 Comte de Vogue Chambolle-Musigny Les Amoureuses?  This was even more of a treat, as bottles of Amoureuses are by definition extremely rare, even on release.  At age 52, they practically don’t exist.  There was more Worcestershire in its nose, along with brown sugar.  ‘In the morning, there was much more acid,’ confided The Keymaster.  This felt more ’59 than the Moose to me.  The Amoureuses had its own musky, sex appeal and its palate was ‘more serious,’ per one of our fortunate crew.  The Moose and Amoureuses were then compared as a ‘teacher and slutty student’ lol.  A better way to say that, perhaps, is that the spirit of the Amoureuses was more fun and ready to party, while the Musigny was all about the lecture.  There was still volume in this heavy and round wine, but of a different sort than the Musigny.  Tertiary aromas of lime and orange emerged.  Both bottles were from the same cellar (95).

A pair of Pomerols closed out this magnificent afternoon, beginning with a 1952 Vieux Chateau Certan.  Pomerol has always been a pet vintage of mine for 1952, although I have to thank the Imperial Cellar for first turning me on to them many moons ago.  The VCC had a rich nose that was black fruit city and deep like a night in Milan.  It was youthful and powerful, with ‘black Valrhona chocolate,’ according to The Keymaster.  Its palate was softer and rounder than its nose, and all about the black (94).

The final wine rocked and rolled me onto the streets of Copenhagen, literally.  The 1964 Lafleur had a chocolaty nose, ‘so heavy’ per our host.  There was complicated t ‘n a, supported by garden, pebbles and a touch of rye crust.  This was noble earth, rich with minerals.  Both these Pomerols were opened and decanted for four hours!  The ‘typical’ Lafleur handled its air more effectively, possessing more levels than an elevator in Midtown Manhattan.  The Keymaster’s friend likened it to ‘Shaq,’ and its extraordinary weight was still agile.  This was a great bottle (97).

There were two nights left during my odyssey across Europe, and I headed to Vienna, alone.  Sebastien had a family obligation and would meet me in London the next night.  There was only one thing to do, drink his share.  I went to Vienna’s most famous wine place, the Palais Coburg.  Palace is an appropriate name, and its young chef is one of Europe’s bright new stars, having gone from 1 to 2 stars in two consecutive years, which is almost unheard of.   And its wine list is one of the world’s greatest.  I had to have a couple of Austrians, as I do love the category even though I am not incredibly knowledgeable about the region.  Here is the entire lineup of wines, followed by a summary, as it is time to bring this article to a quick close!

I let my local friend select the whites, one being the Hirtzberger.  This had the peacock’s tail aromatically, showing the full spectrum of flowers and fruits for the grape.  Passionfruit, apricot, peach and white pepper were in the nose and mouth, and its oily mouthfeel led into long acidity.  It was a little bitey, in a back of the neck way.  It finished dryly and was delicious and refreshing.  The second was the Knoll.  Smargad means the grapes were picked at the highest level allowed for ripeness.  This was a little pungent and yeasty with not a lot of acidity left.  It was a touch dirty and vegetal on its finish, tangy and sour with its citrus.  The Leflaive was very well cut and agile for a ’99.  I was even more impressed with it than the Batard in Burgundy, which is the ‘Any Given Sunday’ principle.  It just goes to show what a great value BBM can be, which is usually half-price, or close.  The Rousseau had a whiff of wood before getting quite apple-y.  There was citric tension and a bed of cedar to this clean and fresh ’98.  The palate was high-pitched a la ’98, and there was depth and complexity here to match its excellent acidity.  The Leroy was also woodsy at first, more herbal along with the signature Leroy beefy, black cola fruit.  It kept putting on weight, at first trailing the Rousseau but catching up for a photo finish.  The ’55 Montrose needed some time to blow off its cobwebs as it was quite chalky at first.  Some carob and caramel emerged, and some red fruit came out of its wet and earthy shadows.  The palate was a bit singular, stalky and brothy, but it still flashed some red fruits.  An interesting comment came at the end about many Biodynamic wines not aging well past 5-6 years because the sulfur levels are too low.  Take it for what you will.

There was a last night in London, and we went to Gordon Ramsay’s and sampled a Ramonet this and a Dujac that, but I can’t remember which ones or vintages to be honest, my memory is on overload.  It was time to go home.  There were other wines that didn’t quite make the article either, so don’t feel bad.  I came back to New York and swore off alcohol for the month of August after the month that I had just had, but six days later I came to terms with that issue J.  I hope you enjoyed a month in the life; it has been a while since I took the time to write an article like this, even though every month’s happy recap would be similarly comprehensive.  I look forward to returning to Europe, although I will never do an itinerary like this one again.  I guess I’ll just have to go more often.

FIN.

JK

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