Thursday, January 21, 2010
Chateau Aney D'Arnaussan 2005
Translucent ruby-garnet and fading at the rim a little to a pinkish color so showing maturity at this early stage of the game, but that's a good thing tonight. An interesting wine especially in the context of 2005. Open for business. Nice nose with red currants. Some milk chocolate and more red currants on the palate. Fine tannins and balanced acidity with a good finish. Light to medium bodied. Says 12.5% alch on the label. Good complexity for a $14 bottle of wine. Very flavorful. Dry and stylish. A nice surprise.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
1962 Pichon Baron
Every year around Christmastime, three of my friends and I get together for a little holiday dinner. We’ve known each other since elementary school in Forest Hills, NY, and the quartet reached its full flower in middle school, where we were one of the more disruptive elements of a large but loosely defined clique and had a lot of fun right up until graduation. We all still live in Manhattan, ironically, and about five years ago I hit on the idea to start organizing the dinners.
Last year, we decided to go to a French restaurant. The season wasn’t shaping up to be anything particularly special, but the dinner was easy to coordinate, for a change, and I was really looking forward to it as I’d picked out a very cozy and warm little restaurant, Bistro Les Amis, in SoHo.
The week before the dinner, I was wine shopping as per usual, picking out a bottle of Burgundy for a colleague of mine who was leaving his job for something better. At the last minute, after I had paid, I decided to swing by the end of the counter and look in the bargain bin to see if there was anything of interest. I’d had luck there before, but this time it was even better. I noticed an old bottle of what looked like Bordeaux. On closer inspection it turned out to be a bottle of 1962 Pichon Baron. I was immediately excited, as you can imagine!
The fill was middle to lower shoulder but some of the still intact foil had been cut off to reveal a cork that was very sturdy looking. The label was quite faded but intact. The price might lead one to believe that the wine could be shot - $75. A bottle of ’61 Pichon Baron that they had in stock from the same cellar was almost $400. Why so cheap on this ’62? We know that ’62 is overshadowed by ’61, but it’s also considered to be a very good vintage, verging on excellent. Some say it’s one of the three best vintages of the ‘60s, along with ’66.
I thought it over for awhile, asking the owner some questions. He thought it had great potential but there were no guarantees. He mentioned that the price was lower because there was only a single bottle. Don’t ask me why that would diminish its value. I was thinking, "when will I drink this? I’ve got to get to it soon." Suddenly, I had a moment of clarity – I could bring it to the Christmas dinner where it would be, get this – all four of our birth year wines! The beauty of school friends, with so much in common becomes clearer than ever at times like these. Even if the wine was dead, it would be a great party favor and would save me the chore of finding three individual Christmas presents.
I bought the bottle and immediately proceeded to look for notes online. None of them were particularly encouraging. Most suggested that it was way past it’s prime, and probably overly acidic due to the style of the vintage. But I was intrepid and kept my fingers crossed.
Four days later, we met at the restaurant. Bistrot Les Amis asked for a reasonable corkage and provided excellent service, although I brought my own glasses. Everyone on the staff was intrigued by the 45 year old bottle of Bordeaux and it cemented my reputation as a wine lover at one of my favorite local haunts. We ordered a bottle of Chateau de Fonbel, St. Emilion 2004, a 90 pt wine, just to have some more wine at the table and in case the Baron had flown his last flight long ago. I had the Baron chilled slightly as it was a little warmer than it should be.
I pulled the cork myself. Amazingly, it easily came out in one piece. It was very long. I poured out some wine. It was fully intact! The wine was a ruby red color and when I say ruby red, this is what rubies must really look like. It was gorgeous, fully mature red wine, and it reeked of tobacco. It was full bodied, with a long finish and flavors of chocolate and currants on the palate. It grew and grew as the night progress, easily lasting the full meal and seemingly growing stronger up to the last drops. It was fully alive.
Very well balanced, it surely had seen days of greater fruit concentration. However, it was richly satisfying, and spoke of a style of wine with longevity, gravity, depth and complexity that one will only encounter rarely unless you’re a member of the wine trade. It went perfectly with the food, and it was great to see my friend’s faces as they drank it. It was a great party.
Ahem, the Fonbel. The Chateau Fonbel provided a nice contrast. Not that it provided much else. Next to the Baron, it reminded me of Beaujoulais, of which I’m not a great fan. Extremely light and fruity, with a slight chemical or medicinal flavor that I associate with gamay, I’m sure the wine would have been much better if it wasn’t tasted next to a 45 year old Pauillac. However, it did serve a great purpose by assuring me that I wasn’t simply seduced by the atmosphere and history of the immaculately preserved, mature Bordeaux. The 1962 Pichon Baron was certainly the real deal.
Last year, we decided to go to a French restaurant. The season wasn’t shaping up to be anything particularly special, but the dinner was easy to coordinate, for a change, and I was really looking forward to it as I’d picked out a very cozy and warm little restaurant, Bistro Les Amis, in SoHo.
The week before the dinner, I was wine shopping as per usual, picking out a bottle of Burgundy for a colleague of mine who was leaving his job for something better. At the last minute, after I had paid, I decided to swing by the end of the counter and look in the bargain bin to see if there was anything of interest. I’d had luck there before, but this time it was even better. I noticed an old bottle of what looked like Bordeaux. On closer inspection it turned out to be a bottle of 1962 Pichon Baron. I was immediately excited, as you can imagine!
The fill was middle to lower shoulder but some of the still intact foil had been cut off to reveal a cork that was very sturdy looking. The label was quite faded but intact. The price might lead one to believe that the wine could be shot - $75. A bottle of ’61 Pichon Baron that they had in stock from the same cellar was almost $400. Why so cheap on this ’62? We know that ’62 is overshadowed by ’61, but it’s also considered to be a very good vintage, verging on excellent. Some say it’s one of the three best vintages of the ‘60s, along with ’66.
I thought it over for awhile, asking the owner some questions. He thought it had great potential but there were no guarantees. He mentioned that the price was lower because there was only a single bottle. Don’t ask me why that would diminish its value. I was thinking, "when will I drink this? I’ve got to get to it soon." Suddenly, I had a moment of clarity – I could bring it to the Christmas dinner where it would be, get this – all four of our birth year wines! The beauty of school friends, with so much in common becomes clearer than ever at times like these. Even if the wine was dead, it would be a great party favor and would save me the chore of finding three individual Christmas presents.
I bought the bottle and immediately proceeded to look for notes online. None of them were particularly encouraging. Most suggested that it was way past it’s prime, and probably overly acidic due to the style of the vintage. But I was intrepid and kept my fingers crossed.
Four days later, we met at the restaurant. Bistrot Les Amis asked for a reasonable corkage and provided excellent service, although I brought my own glasses. Everyone on the staff was intrigued by the 45 year old bottle of Bordeaux and it cemented my reputation as a wine lover at one of my favorite local haunts. We ordered a bottle of Chateau de Fonbel, St. Emilion 2004, a 90 pt wine, just to have some more wine at the table and in case the Baron had flown his last flight long ago. I had the Baron chilled slightly as it was a little warmer than it should be.
I pulled the cork myself. Amazingly, it easily came out in one piece. It was very long. I poured out some wine. It was fully intact! The wine was a ruby red color and when I say ruby red, this is what rubies must really look like. It was gorgeous, fully mature red wine, and it reeked of tobacco. It was full bodied, with a long finish and flavors of chocolate and currants on the palate. It grew and grew as the night progress, easily lasting the full meal and seemingly growing stronger up to the last drops. It was fully alive.
Very well balanced, it surely had seen days of greater fruit concentration. However, it was richly satisfying, and spoke of a style of wine with longevity, gravity, depth and complexity that one will only encounter rarely unless you’re a member of the wine trade. It went perfectly with the food, and it was great to see my friend’s faces as they drank it. It was a great party.
Ahem, the Fonbel. The Chateau Fonbel provided a nice contrast. Not that it provided much else. Next to the Baron, it reminded me of Beaujoulais, of which I’m not a great fan. Extremely light and fruity, with a slight chemical or medicinal flavor that I associate with gamay, I’m sure the wine would have been much better if it wasn’t tasted next to a 45 year old Pauillac. However, it did serve a great purpose by assuring me that I wasn’t simply seduced by the atmosphere and history of the immaculately preserved, mature Bordeaux. The 1962 Pichon Baron was certainly the real deal.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
1986 Gruaud Larose
A friend of mine bought a new house. I heard all about it from him over the course of months, the negotiations, closing, about the house and finally moving in, some work that was done and more. It wasn’t just any house, though. It had been owned by a very famous American, and handed down to his son who in turn had had a prominent political career. I expected it to be quite impressive but nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to see.
I knew it was big, and on a lot of land. But I didn’t know that it had been designed and constructed by one of the most famous East Coast architectural firms of the 20th century. Of course, everyone loves old houses, historic houses, even more. This one had been built in the 1930s. I love the 1930s. Think: Empire State Building, Dinner At Eight, William Faulkner’s “Sanctuary.” Well, maybe not that – think the opposite of that.
But you’re thinking, what about the wine? Is this just another article like all those that plague the NY Times nowadays, where the subtext of every story is real estate? No, I’m getting to that. You see – there was a wine cellar. I asked my friend, who prefers Italian wine to French, what kind of wine I should bring with me. He said, let’s do Italian. He also said, I’ve got a few reds on hand. I didn’t know about the wine cellar yet. Restraint and discipline are the cardinal rules of effective surprise. Surprise and delight, I might add… My friend had that part down.
I didn’t see the wine cellar until well into my visit. I was so excited by the house itself and finally visiting my friend there that I didn’t rush into the basement looking for the cellar like the mad wine freak that I am. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. The house was so big, I probably wouldn’t have been able to find it, anyway.
So the house, the house. Let’s revisit that for a moment before we check in on our wines. We spent some time in the solarium, no really we just looked at it through some glass in the ballroom. I visited the boys, and the girls’ rooms, delightful little powder rooms located on the first floor and painted in appropriate colors – blue and pink. Perfect for freshening up after a long ride in from Rhode Island. Or a late night rendezvous during a Gatsbyesque revel.
Ok, so we’re thirsty by now. Just the mention of Gatsby makes me think of mint juleps, of 1928 Lafite and ’22 Musigny – in a former life I must have been a landowner in Burgundy – make that a nobleman. Or maybe just a peasant who killed his own game and repaired to perfect local bottle of carignan? No matter – the grape is in my blood and being in such opulent settings sets my mind to the thought of liquid recreation amongst other things. It certainly was the stuff of fantasies. Did twelve rooms ever look so grand? That wouldn’t include the servants’ wing, of course – big enough to house my entire apartment in Manhattan about three times over.
But I’m boring you. You want to know what wine I brought. Not really? You want to hear about the wine cellar, and whether – the important question – the contents of the wine cellar had been sold along with the house? You’re very clever! Yes it’s true – the contents of the cellar might not have made it into my friend’s possession when he took possession of the glorious container of the cellar, also known as the house. In fact yes – several verticals of Petrus had already been sold off to an auction house before the day of my arrival, pity…
Not knowing what to expect, I had brought a good solid red but nothing extravagant, a Roagna ’95 Barolo Rocca la Pira Reserva. It made for an interesting comparison and held its own, admirably. OK, so we cut to the chase. The cellar was limping a bit. The furnace of the house must have been hijacked from the Chrysler Building, it was so big, and generated a huge amount of heat, which was enough to put the refrigeration system in the cellar in need of a tune-up.
There was a small display of 1st growths albeit from the 19th century, hanging on by a thread. A bunch of red and white burgundy from… the ‘70s looked enticing but probably in need of a salad. However there were a few intesting bottles around, besides the ones that my friend had added recently. The racks that had held the verticals of Petrus, et al, gaped from their glassed-in temperature controlled tanks, reminding me of what could have been.
After sniffing around for a bit, my friend proffered a bottle of 1986 Gruaud Larose and said, “what about this one?” I pounced! Yes! That looks great to me. It was hard to tear myself away but we returned to the professional chef sized kitchen and grilled some chicken on the indoor barbeque. True to its pedigree, the ’86 Larose was beautiful. A big wine, still young, but perhaps showing a little more evolution than an example I had tasted a year or so previously. Lots of tobacco and a beautiful red/mahogany color were followed by rich currants and a silky texture. As it opened up further, more complexity and depth revealed itself.
The Roagna made an excellent showing, acquitting itself admirably. It was more evolved in color, but had similar full body, good fruit and a long finish. The biggest difference was the acidity, which was much more prominent. And of course, the quality, subtlety and complexity of the Gruaud was much in evidence. Even my friend, the Italian wine lover, was bowled over by it.
I haven’t returned to the house since then. The renovations, painting and repairs have dragged on now for a half a year, although many would say that’s nothing. They have made my friend a virtual prisoner on his estate, not to mention a slave to his job. Hopefully there will be a chance for a summer party. The time is right.
I knew it was big, and on a lot of land. But I didn’t know that it had been designed and constructed by one of the most famous East Coast architectural firms of the 20th century. Of course, everyone loves old houses, historic houses, even more. This one had been built in the 1930s. I love the 1930s. Think: Empire State Building, Dinner At Eight, William Faulkner’s “Sanctuary.” Well, maybe not that – think the opposite of that.
But you’re thinking, what about the wine? Is this just another article like all those that plague the NY Times nowadays, where the subtext of every story is real estate? No, I’m getting to that. You see – there was a wine cellar. I asked my friend, who prefers Italian wine to French, what kind of wine I should bring with me. He said, let’s do Italian. He also said, I’ve got a few reds on hand. I didn’t know about the wine cellar yet. Restraint and discipline are the cardinal rules of effective surprise. Surprise and delight, I might add… My friend had that part down.
I didn’t see the wine cellar until well into my visit. I was so excited by the house itself and finally visiting my friend there that I didn’t rush into the basement looking for the cellar like the mad wine freak that I am. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. The house was so big, I probably wouldn’t have been able to find it, anyway.
So the house, the house. Let’s revisit that for a moment before we check in on our wines. We spent some time in the solarium, no really we just looked at it through some glass in the ballroom. I visited the boys, and the girls’ rooms, delightful little powder rooms located on the first floor and painted in appropriate colors – blue and pink. Perfect for freshening up after a long ride in from Rhode Island. Or a late night rendezvous during a Gatsbyesque revel.
Ok, so we’re thirsty by now. Just the mention of Gatsby makes me think of mint juleps, of 1928 Lafite and ’22 Musigny – in a former life I must have been a landowner in Burgundy – make that a nobleman. Or maybe just a peasant who killed his own game and repaired to perfect local bottle of carignan? No matter – the grape is in my blood and being in such opulent settings sets my mind to the thought of liquid recreation amongst other things. It certainly was the stuff of fantasies. Did twelve rooms ever look so grand? That wouldn’t include the servants’ wing, of course – big enough to house my entire apartment in Manhattan about three times over.
But I’m boring you. You want to know what wine I brought. Not really? You want to hear about the wine cellar, and whether – the important question – the contents of the wine cellar had been sold along with the house? You’re very clever! Yes it’s true – the contents of the cellar might not have made it into my friend’s possession when he took possession of the glorious container of the cellar, also known as the house. In fact yes – several verticals of Petrus had already been sold off to an auction house before the day of my arrival, pity…
Not knowing what to expect, I had brought a good solid red but nothing extravagant, a Roagna ’95 Barolo Rocca la Pira Reserva. It made for an interesting comparison and held its own, admirably. OK, so we cut to the chase. The cellar was limping a bit. The furnace of the house must have been hijacked from the Chrysler Building, it was so big, and generated a huge amount of heat, which was enough to put the refrigeration system in the cellar in need of a tune-up.
There was a small display of 1st growths albeit from the 19th century, hanging on by a thread. A bunch of red and white burgundy from… the ‘70s looked enticing but probably in need of a salad. However there were a few intesting bottles around, besides the ones that my friend had added recently. The racks that had held the verticals of Petrus, et al, gaped from their glassed-in temperature controlled tanks, reminding me of what could have been.
After sniffing around for a bit, my friend proffered a bottle of 1986 Gruaud Larose and said, “what about this one?” I pounced! Yes! That looks great to me. It was hard to tear myself away but we returned to the professional chef sized kitchen and grilled some chicken on the indoor barbeque. True to its pedigree, the ’86 Larose was beautiful. A big wine, still young, but perhaps showing a little more evolution than an example I had tasted a year or so previously. Lots of tobacco and a beautiful red/mahogany color were followed by rich currants and a silky texture. As it opened up further, more complexity and depth revealed itself.
The Roagna made an excellent showing, acquitting itself admirably. It was more evolved in color, but had similar full body, good fruit and a long finish. The biggest difference was the acidity, which was much more prominent. And of course, the quality, subtlety and complexity of the Gruaud was much in evidence. Even my friend, the Italian wine lover, was bowled over by it.
I haven’t returned to the house since then. The renovations, painting and repairs have dragged on now for a half a year, although many would say that’s nothing. They have made my friend a virtual prisoner on his estate, not to mention a slave to his job. Hopefully there will be a chance for a summer party. The time is right.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
The Bordeaux Wine Enthusiasts Part II
One must wonder at times, in what state the members of an international, internet wine drinking group would tend to be doing their posting. I mean, I for one would Never turn on my computer after drinking a bottle of Chateauneuf des Papes. Nooo sir… But the temptation is there, what with the occasional virtual tasting, and the propensity for some to simply begin their tasting notes at the point at which the bottle is first uncorked. And it would follow that this state of participation might lead to a colorful repartee, a few misguided comments, the occasional virtual punch-up...
It’s true, there are some flare-ups, and some have even misguidedly ventured into the political arena, but never the actual arena. Most disturbances are mercifully brief, although there were quite a few boilovers in the early days. Come to think of it, there were a few pot-stirrers, as well. Typical topics of discussion often revolve around Parkerized wines vs. classic wines, investment strategies vs. drinking strategies, and so on.
But there is a bone of contention, not necessarily amoung the BWEers themselves who are relatively unified in their opinion, but involving a certain quasi-prominent wine critic and his favoring of the ’95 vintage over the ’96 in Bordeaux. BWE comes down solidly on the side of ’96, because of the outstanding quality of the Left Bank in that vintage. The ’95 vintage is favored by James Suckling, Bordeaux and Italy critic for the Wine Spectator, and he rarely misses a chance to plug his favorite, largely because he seems to prefer Right Bank, merlot based wines overall, and ’95 shines in that area. So it’s really a feud, now very much dormant, however always in danger of flaring up, between BWE and one of its especially prominent members, and James Suckling and the Wine Spectator. Although admittedly it’s a feud where one of the combatants is decidedly obscure, eccentric, and whimsical, no matter how aristocratic, romantic, courageous and intellectually superior he may be.
No large group is without its foibles of course. I tend to avoid feuds in general, but can’t help using this opportunity to mention a few negatives. One revolves around the natural tendency of posters to do a bit of bragging, however unintentional it may be. I mean really, if I go home tonight and drink a bottle of 1995 Grand Puy Lacoste with my lusty girlfriend, am I a humble man? Irrelevant. And then I tell you about it? Certainly not. But everything being relative, I must say the tendency of some people to respond to your posting about a particularly fine bottle of wine that you just had by stating that they’re sitting on several cases of it is not exactly gracious. Another gambit that irks me is the “Lowball Response,” for example when you mention in a thread in post-shopping therapy bliss of how you just scored a case of one of your favorite wines at an unheard of price, you don’t exactly want to have someone chiming in with, “Yeah, that’s a nice wine – I just paid 20% less for it at so-and-so’s.” These are minor complaints, but it’s enough that at times I studiously try to avoid the postings of certain members who seem to make these practices a regular part of their commentary.
But some more interesting clashes have popped up. More than a few involved a high end inebriate going by the name Pomerolover. He first came to my attention in my noticing the straightforwardness of his moniker. Before long, however I saw that he had become embroiled in one flare-up after another, most notably with a fellow who goes by the name of Compte Flaneur. Their embroglio descended to the level of politics, as they often do, and lasted some 100 posts with all manner of name calling and whatnot.
You can imagine my delight when I put together my first full scale BWE tasting, on the Margaux appellation (a difficult choice but it had to be done) and I saw that on the list of attendees was the notorious Compte. A deceptively polite and erudite Englishman showed up at the tasting and we hit it off right away. His dark side has surfaced on more than one occasion since then but always in acceptable circumstances. I never did meet “Pom” but the agitative Compte has managed a few more scrapes in the intervening time.
A more recent development stands as one of the most serious feuds yet on BWE. A very active member who for lack of a more secretive nickname must remain nameless, became irksome to our BD on more than one occasion and they had minor words. The offended party left the board in a huff and several of his most loyal followers went with him. It was a shame because it knocked a substantial piece off the core of the NYC crew. But the recovery has been taking hold and one could even say that dullness has set in for the moment.
Sparks may yet again fly, and in person this time, though it’s highly doubtful, when the group convenes in the fall for a 1986 Horizontal. The scabrous Compte has organized the event, and at least one of his nemesis is scheduled to attend. One could almost see a sort of ‘pistols at dawn’ scenario in the making but the likelihood of any BWE member being able to hit the side of barn after one of our spirited soirees makes the likelihood of such a violent development almost nil.
Of course, I’m probably almost as guilty of it as the next guy when it comes to polluting cyberspace with gin-soaked drivel. One of the reasons that I started my blog was to spare the members of the board the hazard of my sometimes overtly personal posts. I needed another outlet for my writing. Wine wise and otherwise.
Really, it’s amazing - I never expected to get so much enjoyment out of membership in an internet group. Through BWE some incredible people have invited me into their homes for dinner in some of the most beautiful locals of Europe, and I’ve had an absolute blast with others on my home turf of NYC, as well. The generosity of the group members has been astonishing. And I’ve learned an enormous amount about wine. There’s still a long way to go, and I’m sure BWE will be traveling there with me.
It’s true, there are some flare-ups, and some have even misguidedly ventured into the political arena, but never the actual arena. Most disturbances are mercifully brief, although there were quite a few boilovers in the early days. Come to think of it, there were a few pot-stirrers, as well. Typical topics of discussion often revolve around Parkerized wines vs. classic wines, investment strategies vs. drinking strategies, and so on.
But there is a bone of contention, not necessarily amoung the BWEers themselves who are relatively unified in their opinion, but involving a certain quasi-prominent wine critic and his favoring of the ’95 vintage over the ’96 in Bordeaux. BWE comes down solidly on the side of ’96, because of the outstanding quality of the Left Bank in that vintage. The ’95 vintage is favored by James Suckling, Bordeaux and Italy critic for the Wine Spectator, and he rarely misses a chance to plug his favorite, largely because he seems to prefer Right Bank, merlot based wines overall, and ’95 shines in that area. So it’s really a feud, now very much dormant, however always in danger of flaring up, between BWE and one of its especially prominent members, and James Suckling and the Wine Spectator. Although admittedly it’s a feud where one of the combatants is decidedly obscure, eccentric, and whimsical, no matter how aristocratic, romantic, courageous and intellectually superior he may be.
No large group is without its foibles of course. I tend to avoid feuds in general, but can’t help using this opportunity to mention a few negatives. One revolves around the natural tendency of posters to do a bit of bragging, however unintentional it may be. I mean really, if I go home tonight and drink a bottle of 1995 Grand Puy Lacoste with my lusty girlfriend, am I a humble man? Irrelevant. And then I tell you about it? Certainly not. But everything being relative, I must say the tendency of some people to respond to your posting about a particularly fine bottle of wine that you just had by stating that they’re sitting on several cases of it is not exactly gracious. Another gambit that irks me is the “Lowball Response,” for example when you mention in a thread in post-shopping therapy bliss of how you just scored a case of one of your favorite wines at an unheard of price, you don’t exactly want to have someone chiming in with, “Yeah, that’s a nice wine – I just paid 20% less for it at so-and-so’s.” These are minor complaints, but it’s enough that at times I studiously try to avoid the postings of certain members who seem to make these practices a regular part of their commentary.
But some more interesting clashes have popped up. More than a few involved a high end inebriate going by the name Pomerolover. He first came to my attention in my noticing the straightforwardness of his moniker. Before long, however I saw that he had become embroiled in one flare-up after another, most notably with a fellow who goes by the name of Compte Flaneur. Their embroglio descended to the level of politics, as they often do, and lasted some 100 posts with all manner of name calling and whatnot.
You can imagine my delight when I put together my first full scale BWE tasting, on the Margaux appellation (a difficult choice but it had to be done) and I saw that on the list of attendees was the notorious Compte. A deceptively polite and erudite Englishman showed up at the tasting and we hit it off right away. His dark side has surfaced on more than one occasion since then but always in acceptable circumstances. I never did meet “Pom” but the agitative Compte has managed a few more scrapes in the intervening time.
A more recent development stands as one of the most serious feuds yet on BWE. A very active member who for lack of a more secretive nickname must remain nameless, became irksome to our BD on more than one occasion and they had minor words. The offended party left the board in a huff and several of his most loyal followers went with him. It was a shame because it knocked a substantial piece off the core of the NYC crew. But the recovery has been taking hold and one could even say that dullness has set in for the moment.
Sparks may yet again fly, and in person this time, though it’s highly doubtful, when the group convenes in the fall for a 1986 Horizontal. The scabrous Compte has organized the event, and at least one of his nemesis is scheduled to attend. One could almost see a sort of ‘pistols at dawn’ scenario in the making but the likelihood of any BWE member being able to hit the side of barn after one of our spirited soirees makes the likelihood of such a violent development almost nil.
Of course, I’m probably almost as guilty of it as the next guy when it comes to polluting cyberspace with gin-soaked drivel. One of the reasons that I started my blog was to spare the members of the board the hazard of my sometimes overtly personal posts. I needed another outlet for my writing. Wine wise and otherwise.
Really, it’s amazing - I never expected to get so much enjoyment out of membership in an internet group. Through BWE some incredible people have invited me into their homes for dinner in some of the most beautiful locals of Europe, and I’ve had an absolute blast with others on my home turf of NYC, as well. The generosity of the group members has been astonishing. And I’ve learned an enormous amount about wine. There’s still a long way to go, and I’m sure BWE will be traveling there with me.
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
The Bordeaux Wine Enthusiasts - Part I
It’s easy to find a great bottle of wine, but is it easy to find a great group of people to appreciate it with? The thought didn’t occur to me right away when I first became interested in wine. But naturally, almost as soon as I began to investigate the wine scene, I heard about all sorts of cool wine groups, drinking great wine and having a great, funny and sometimes depraved time of it. I thought, I definitely want a piece of this...
My early attempts at forming a wine group met with mixed results. A few good nights, a tolerable picnic during a heat wave and a few interesting characters were among them. There was even a little advert in the Village Voice looking for a third person to drink good French wine with. Don’t know why I didn’t respond to that one…
Then there was the wino I mean, the member of one of my fledgling groups who upon spying some harmless fellow strolling across the Sheep’s Meadow in Central Park wearing a Yale sweatshirt, said, “Hey! Did you go to Yale? Because if you didn’t, you shouldn’t be wearing that shirt!” It wasn’t exactly as I’d imagined it should be, to say the least. Although, maybe I should have cut him some slack - it was 100 degrees in the shade that day. That group didn’t last, unsurprisingly, although I did get to try my first Meursault that day and some slightly chilled Opus One.
My luck changed one day when I did an internet search and among the results were the words, Bordeaux Wine Enthusiasts. I came upon a message posting board, a Microsoft group that was festooned with all manner of referential “handles,” tasting notes of many exotic wines (to my eyes at the time – for those who don’t know what Sociando-Mallet is, it’s not French for “anti-social,” but it might be a distant cousin, or perhaps a rare disease that sometimes results in the wholesale drinking of the dump-bucket, but that’s another story), and an overall attitude that was knowing and informed, but not obviously snobbish or lame. I figured I’d give it a try. To be a little less guarded, I was totally delighted with my find and I hadn’t even begun to explore or experience it.
I can’t remember my early posts (to quote Ray Davies: Alcohol, alcohol, sad memories I can’t recall), but after checking a few of the profiles I discovered that one of them worked for my company. I was invited to my first serious, organized tasting, a comparison of second wines – the wines that top growths separate from the blend to insure the high quality of their first wines. It was a blind tasting and honestly, I could barely tell the wines apart, especially after the 18th bottle. I find blind tastings to be quite difficult and to a degree, less appealing. But it was hard work and a blast to work thought the wines, many of which were the seconds of top crus, in top vintages no less, like 1996 Carraudes de Lafite. At the end of the tasting, the coverings on the bottles were removed and I noticed that there was a bottle of 1982 Les Forts de Latour, the highly regarded second of Chateau Latour, a 1st Growth, sitting right near me. It was about one third full. Each sip tasted better and better. What a lovely wine.
I forgot to mention that upon joining the board, all I had to do was choose a “handle,” and I was in. No fee, no initiation, no application. Given the ease of access, ironically there are few if any of what I’d graciously call, “internet weirdos” on BWE. It’s always amazed me. Living in NYC, which is somewhat of an open mental ward, and being a part time professional musician, I’ve met my share of gonzo loonies. But BWE seems to scare them away. But I digress. I’m terrible at choosing my own nicknames but finally settled on Chasse-Spleen, one of my early favorite wines. Why Chasse-Spleen? I’m a fan of Lord Byron, and I read that it was one of (I’m sure there were many!) his favorite wines. That combined with the fact that it “punched above its weight” appealed to me. This means that the wine, although unclassified in the classification of 1855, still manages to reach the heights of a classed growth, albeit a fourth or fifth growth these days, in many vintages.
Before too long there was another highly appealing tasting in the works, which I signed up for: A vertical tasting of Lynch Bages, the “Poor Man’s Mouton.” Lynch is one of the favorite wines of the BD or Benevolent Dictator, the founder of BWE, as we refer to him. His favorite Lynch is the 1989. I knew he as well as quite a few of the other senior members would be at this tasting, and I was totally stoked for it. It proved to be a major success. It was held in an Italian restaurant on 53rd St, with a menu selection specifically designed for the consumption of Bordeaux wines. When I arrived, someone who had a cast on his right hand handed me a magnum of 1990 Jacquart Champagne and asked if I could please open it. “Of course,” I said. The first sips spoiled me for Champagne forever. Full bodied, mature, toasty, chunky – delicious stuff. His name, I found out, was Musigny. I hope to try that wine someday, as well.
In a nutshell, the ’78 had an amazing finish, the ’82 was astoundingly beautiful, the ’86 very tannic but fierce and fine, as well. The ’88 was a favorite, very balanced, the ’89 still kicking hard but complete and excellent, the ’90 was fantastic and exotic and way over my head – at this point I started to lose it (there were about 6 or 7 other wines I’ve omitted!) but there were more: The ’93, a big surprise but I’ve grown to appreciate ‘93s which usually blow away the awful ‘94s despite the press and prices to the contrary, the very modern ’95, and then up to the ’99 which I brought and was totally innocuous by this point, then the much heralded 2000, which was incredible and amounted to an echo of the fabulous ’82.
At the end of the tasting, a 1988 Sauturnes made the rounds – Chateau Raymond-Lafond, an unclassified but highly sought after insider’s wine from a top vintage. It was everything you could imagine, but coming after the aforementioned onslaught of dry red wine, the effect was even more pronounced. It was perfection and a real show stealer, although, that often happens at Bordeaux wine tastings – a Sauturnes comes along at the end of the night of dry, tannic and often quite a few young wines and lots of people say, “that might be my wine of the night!”
This night was a watershed in my wine education, and presents a sort of microcosm of my membership in BWE. I’ve learned a tremendous amount about wine from the other members and my association with them during my four years of being a BWEer, but I came to think of that night as a point were I jumped several steps ahead, if only from a spot close to the starting line.
I’ve often tried to describe BWE to my friends and family and even brought a few of the former along for events. The simple name, Bordeaux Wine Enthusiasts, belies the complexity and dedication of the group. For one thing, the wines that we talk about and drink are in no way limited to Bordeaux. Burgundy, Rhone, German and even California wines all get their time in the spotlight, it’s just that Bordeaux is the star of the show. California is a distant also ran.
The participants, connoisseurs and revelers alike, who converged on 53rd street in Manhattan on that night of the the Lynch-Bages tasting came from as far away as San Francisco, Texas and Maine. But the scope of BWE is even larger than that. There are members in Australia, France, England, Finland and Denmark, and other far flung places that I’ve obviously left out. Members visit each other on their home turf, be it Denmark, the South of France, or Napa Valley. But like any internet based groups, there are lurkers as well, and feuds…
To be continued…
My early attempts at forming a wine group met with mixed results. A few good nights, a tolerable picnic during a heat wave and a few interesting characters were among them. There was even a little advert in the Village Voice looking for a third person to drink good French wine with. Don’t know why I didn’t respond to that one…
Then there was the wino I mean, the member of one of my fledgling groups who upon spying some harmless fellow strolling across the Sheep’s Meadow in Central Park wearing a Yale sweatshirt, said, “Hey! Did you go to Yale? Because if you didn’t, you shouldn’t be wearing that shirt!” It wasn’t exactly as I’d imagined it should be, to say the least. Although, maybe I should have cut him some slack - it was 100 degrees in the shade that day. That group didn’t last, unsurprisingly, although I did get to try my first Meursault that day and some slightly chilled Opus One.
My luck changed one day when I did an internet search and among the results were the words, Bordeaux Wine Enthusiasts. I came upon a message posting board, a Microsoft group that was festooned with all manner of referential “handles,” tasting notes of many exotic wines (to my eyes at the time – for those who don’t know what Sociando-Mallet is, it’s not French for “anti-social,” but it might be a distant cousin, or perhaps a rare disease that sometimes results in the wholesale drinking of the dump-bucket, but that’s another story), and an overall attitude that was knowing and informed, but not obviously snobbish or lame. I figured I’d give it a try. To be a little less guarded, I was totally delighted with my find and I hadn’t even begun to explore or experience it.
I can’t remember my early posts (to quote Ray Davies: Alcohol, alcohol, sad memories I can’t recall), but after checking a few of the profiles I discovered that one of them worked for my company. I was invited to my first serious, organized tasting, a comparison of second wines – the wines that top growths separate from the blend to insure the high quality of their first wines. It was a blind tasting and honestly, I could barely tell the wines apart, especially after the 18th bottle. I find blind tastings to be quite difficult and to a degree, less appealing. But it was hard work and a blast to work thought the wines, many of which were the seconds of top crus, in top vintages no less, like 1996 Carraudes de Lafite. At the end of the tasting, the coverings on the bottles were removed and I noticed that there was a bottle of 1982 Les Forts de Latour, the highly regarded second of Chateau Latour, a 1st Growth, sitting right near me. It was about one third full. Each sip tasted better and better. What a lovely wine.
I forgot to mention that upon joining the board, all I had to do was choose a “handle,” and I was in. No fee, no initiation, no application. Given the ease of access, ironically there are few if any of what I’d graciously call, “internet weirdos” on BWE. It’s always amazed me. Living in NYC, which is somewhat of an open mental ward, and being a part time professional musician, I’ve met my share of gonzo loonies. But BWE seems to scare them away. But I digress. I’m terrible at choosing my own nicknames but finally settled on Chasse-Spleen, one of my early favorite wines. Why Chasse-Spleen? I’m a fan of Lord Byron, and I read that it was one of (I’m sure there were many!) his favorite wines. That combined with the fact that it “punched above its weight” appealed to me. This means that the wine, although unclassified in the classification of 1855, still manages to reach the heights of a classed growth, albeit a fourth or fifth growth these days, in many vintages.
Before too long there was another highly appealing tasting in the works, which I signed up for: A vertical tasting of Lynch Bages, the “Poor Man’s Mouton.” Lynch is one of the favorite wines of the BD or Benevolent Dictator, the founder of BWE, as we refer to him. His favorite Lynch is the 1989. I knew he as well as quite a few of the other senior members would be at this tasting, and I was totally stoked for it. It proved to be a major success. It was held in an Italian restaurant on 53rd St, with a menu selection specifically designed for the consumption of Bordeaux wines. When I arrived, someone who had a cast on his right hand handed me a magnum of 1990 Jacquart Champagne and asked if I could please open it. “Of course,” I said. The first sips spoiled me for Champagne forever. Full bodied, mature, toasty, chunky – delicious stuff. His name, I found out, was Musigny. I hope to try that wine someday, as well.
In a nutshell, the ’78 had an amazing finish, the ’82 was astoundingly beautiful, the ’86 very tannic but fierce and fine, as well. The ’88 was a favorite, very balanced, the ’89 still kicking hard but complete and excellent, the ’90 was fantastic and exotic and way over my head – at this point I started to lose it (there were about 6 or 7 other wines I’ve omitted!) but there were more: The ’93, a big surprise but I’ve grown to appreciate ‘93s which usually blow away the awful ‘94s despite the press and prices to the contrary, the very modern ’95, and then up to the ’99 which I brought and was totally innocuous by this point, then the much heralded 2000, which was incredible and amounted to an echo of the fabulous ’82.
At the end of the tasting, a 1988 Sauturnes made the rounds – Chateau Raymond-Lafond, an unclassified but highly sought after insider’s wine from a top vintage. It was everything you could imagine, but coming after the aforementioned onslaught of dry red wine, the effect was even more pronounced. It was perfection and a real show stealer, although, that often happens at Bordeaux wine tastings – a Sauturnes comes along at the end of the night of dry, tannic and often quite a few young wines and lots of people say, “that might be my wine of the night!”
This night was a watershed in my wine education, and presents a sort of microcosm of my membership in BWE. I’ve learned a tremendous amount about wine from the other members and my association with them during my four years of being a BWEer, but I came to think of that night as a point were I jumped several steps ahead, if only from a spot close to the starting line.
I’ve often tried to describe BWE to my friends and family and even brought a few of the former along for events. The simple name, Bordeaux Wine Enthusiasts, belies the complexity and dedication of the group. For one thing, the wines that we talk about and drink are in no way limited to Bordeaux. Burgundy, Rhone, German and even California wines all get their time in the spotlight, it’s just that Bordeaux is the star of the show. California is a distant also ran.
The participants, connoisseurs and revelers alike, who converged on 53rd street in Manhattan on that night of the the Lynch-Bages tasting came from as far away as San Francisco, Texas and Maine. But the scope of BWE is even larger than that. There are members in Australia, France, England, Finland and Denmark, and other far flung places that I’ve obviously left out. Members visit each other on their home turf, be it Denmark, the South of France, or Napa Valley. But like any internet based groups, there are lurkers as well, and feuds…
To be continued…
Friday, September 21, 2007
The Torrid 2003s
“A Tale of Two 2003s,” “It Was The Best Of Times, It Was The Worst Of Times,” or even “Much Ado About Nothing”: All these silly titles flashed through my mind as I thought about how to begin to tell the tale of this vintage that will go down in infamy. In truth, the torridly hot vintage of 2003 in Europe has turned out quite as some critics predicted, ie pick carefully, some great wines and not to all tastes. However I must admit that before I began to actually drink the wines at dinner and with friends in normal wine drinking settings and in formal tastings, I had already adopted a skeptical attitude, imagining the worst about what would certainly define a “new world” style as a benchmark for years to come.
Happily, I’ve come to enjoy the style of 2003s and I thought it a good time to comment on some bottles and tastings that I’ve enjoyed so as to share my experience and even to help sort it out for myself. I’ve mainly been drinking Bordeaux ‘03s but have also encountered some interesting Barolos and Chiantis.
Naturally, there was a ton of press and speculation about the 2003 Bordeaux crackling through the wine world by the time I managed to try one, which was in 2005. I was staying at the Hotel Winston in Amsterdam on holiday, and they had a 2003 petite chateaux on hand, the only wine that they had. But they had dozens of cases in a side room that I apparently stumbled into, so apparently they staff thought highly of it. Pity I didn’t write down the name, but there were other matters at hand. The wine was quite drinkable, delightful even, although it was somewhat sweet and monolithic. I thought, ‘Gee – I’m looking forward to more of these.’
My next major brush with ’03 Bordeaux came at a Zachy’s tasting where almost all of the top Pessac-Leognon estates were represented, including Pape Clement. No, no Haut-Brion. Whaaaa! There were about ten or twelve wines with their winemakers dutifully pouring, and the telltale bitter, roasted flavors of ’03 first started to make an appearance. Very tannic, and not showing a lot of charm in general, although the last wine on the line was spectacular – Pape Clement. I bought a bottle of 2002 Smith Haut-Lafitte from the lovely Florence Cathiard, mainly because she and everyone else as well said that it was drinking well then. It was and I’m now a big fan.
In 2006 I organized a Margaux tasting with my main wine group, Bordeaux Wine Enthusiasts, and I was salivating at the thought of trying the highly rated and resurgent Chateau Lascombes. This wine also had a roasted, bitter component but was undoubtedly still young and tannic and showed promise. It had a strong mineral component and was quite complex. I later tried a bottle of the cru bourgeois La Bernadotte which was highly rated in the vintage and found some similarities that I liked. For less than the price of the Lascombes .750 I was able to purchase a magnum. It was less complex however and more modern in style.
Speaking of cru bourgeois, let’s talk a bit about an area of Bordeaux where I regularly tread. Having gone ga-ga over the little known St. Estephe Chateau Clauzet in the 2000 vintage, I was very anxious to try it when I saw it mentioned as a future on PJ Wine’s website. I waited and bought three bottles at the release price which was the same as the futures, about $18, the same as I paid for the 2000. However the style was completely different. Where the ’00 Clauzet was sumptuous yet balanced and complex and seemingly having at least 10 years in front of it, the ’03 version was much more jammy and modern, a bit like a Cali cab. The wine also evolved rapidly over two years under non-perfect conditions, with the middle bottle showing the best. The last bottle showed the most Bordeaux-like, including coffee and earth on the nose but seemed to be in need of drinking up.
I recently had the chance to drink the highly touted ’03 Potensac with dinner. I’m sure you could have seen my eyes light up from twenty paces as I greeted my friend at the door and saw the bottle in his hand. I loved Potensac in 2001, a velvety, full bodied wine with dark tones and charm to spare. The ‘03 was highly enjoyable, with sweet fruit and an elegant mouthfeel, an excellent compliment to a steak dinner. However it was not showing much in the way of minerality or some of the other characteristics that set Bordeaux apart from most of the world’s cab-based wines. And at $25 to the ‘01’s sale price of $14, it’s not exactly a bargain anymore.
Speaking of 2001, I had the pleasure of sharing another St. Estephe, Chateau de Pez with some friends over dinner, and was struck by the serious earthy qualities and lip-smacking dryness and just over-all chunky, masculine style of the wine. A bottle of de Pez ’03 that I tried early on was quite disappointing, with a very California style in evidence, jammy and sweet. And I thought St. Estephe was supposed to lead in ’03?
A bottle of the Margaux cru bourgeois La Gurgue was much better, although similarly sweet and jammy. The nose of oak and currants was seductive but still a bit Napa, and nothing like the reserved, complex typicity that I experienced with the 2000 version. It was totally enjoyable with an authentic Polish goulash, however, and I must add that this class of ’03 wines is often highly easy to drink, as evidenced by my steady re-ordering of Vrai Canon Bouche, a perfect mid-week or non-geek wine from Canon-Fronsac. A little less weight and finish than its higher pedigreed siblings but much dryer and with more blueberry fruit and a subtle minerality. Excellent for an under $15 bottle of Bordeaux.
But man does not live by Bordeaux alone – what about the rest of the world? What about Burgundy? I’ve had little chance to try many red or white Burgs from ’03, but did manage to snag a bottle of a favorite of mine in ’02, the sleeper value Chassagne-Montrachet Rouge Villages wine by the famed Ramonet house. Super balanced with incense and beautiful strawberry fruit and texture in ’02, the ’03 version was a crowd-pleasing, fat and seductive fruit bomb. My friend immediately went out and tracked down a half case. Somewhat flabby but altogether charming, it didn’t seem like it would last and I was right: My initial source sold out before I could re-order a single bottle!
Earlier this year I had the wonderful experience of attending an Italian tasting at Zachy’s where five top Piedmont producers were hawking their wares. While the ’04 Barbarescos showed tremendous promise, the atypically light colored ’03 Barolos that were on hand showed a sexy and sumptuous drinkability that was quite alluring. Hardly for purists or traditionalists, I was won over by these wines and vowed to look for more in the future.
As that future arrived in the form of 2003s from another favorite wine region of mine, Chianti, the specter of the torrid Summer of 2003 again reared its head in the form of lush, atypical wines, although wines not without charm. For comparison I offer the Monsanto Chianti Classico Riserva, an excellent quality bargain in ’01 and ’03. While the ’01 had it all in elegance, minerality, complexity and food-worthy acidity, the ’03 was a fat, somewhat jammy but immensely pleasing wine that reminded me of a cross between an Aussie Shiraz and Chianti. The points that were awarded to these wines in the WA could hardly be more illustrative: The ’01 Monsanto drew a rave review but only 88 points, while the ’03 version received a whopping 91.
Ultimately, I can’t make a definitive case one way or the other for the 2003 vintage, as I haven’t tried any of the top wines. But from the perspective or everyday wine drinking with some moderate treats thrown in, I’d say it looks like an appealing, drink now vintage, although not for traditionalists. One way of looking at it is, if these 2003s can stay in the running with the wines I’ve chosen to compare them to, they certainly can’t be all bad. However, there aren’t any obvious cases where the ’03 surpassed its older and more classically perfect reflection.
Happily, I’ve come to enjoy the style of 2003s and I thought it a good time to comment on some bottles and tastings that I’ve enjoyed so as to share my experience and even to help sort it out for myself. I’ve mainly been drinking Bordeaux ‘03s but have also encountered some interesting Barolos and Chiantis.
Naturally, there was a ton of press and speculation about the 2003 Bordeaux crackling through the wine world by the time I managed to try one, which was in 2005. I was staying at the Hotel Winston in Amsterdam on holiday, and they had a 2003 petite chateaux on hand, the only wine that they had. But they had dozens of cases in a side room that I apparently stumbled into, so apparently they staff thought highly of it. Pity I didn’t write down the name, but there were other matters at hand. The wine was quite drinkable, delightful even, although it was somewhat sweet and monolithic. I thought, ‘Gee – I’m looking forward to more of these.’
My next major brush with ’03 Bordeaux came at a Zachy’s tasting where almost all of the top Pessac-Leognon estates were represented, including Pape Clement. No, no Haut-Brion. Whaaaa! There were about ten or twelve wines with their winemakers dutifully pouring, and the telltale bitter, roasted flavors of ’03 first started to make an appearance. Very tannic, and not showing a lot of charm in general, although the last wine on the line was spectacular – Pape Clement. I bought a bottle of 2002 Smith Haut-Lafitte from the lovely Florence Cathiard, mainly because she and everyone else as well said that it was drinking well then. It was and I’m now a big fan.
In 2006 I organized a Margaux tasting with my main wine group, Bordeaux Wine Enthusiasts, and I was salivating at the thought of trying the highly rated and resurgent Chateau Lascombes. This wine also had a roasted, bitter component but was undoubtedly still young and tannic and showed promise. It had a strong mineral component and was quite complex. I later tried a bottle of the cru bourgeois La Bernadotte which was highly rated in the vintage and found some similarities that I liked. For less than the price of the Lascombes .750 I was able to purchase a magnum. It was less complex however and more modern in style.
Speaking of cru bourgeois, let’s talk a bit about an area of Bordeaux where I regularly tread. Having gone ga-ga over the little known St. Estephe Chateau Clauzet in the 2000 vintage, I was very anxious to try it when I saw it mentioned as a future on PJ Wine’s website. I waited and bought three bottles at the release price which was the same as the futures, about $18, the same as I paid for the 2000. However the style was completely different. Where the ’00 Clauzet was sumptuous yet balanced and complex and seemingly having at least 10 years in front of it, the ’03 version was much more jammy and modern, a bit like a Cali cab. The wine also evolved rapidly over two years under non-perfect conditions, with the middle bottle showing the best. The last bottle showed the most Bordeaux-like, including coffee and earth on the nose but seemed to be in need of drinking up.
I recently had the chance to drink the highly touted ’03 Potensac with dinner. I’m sure you could have seen my eyes light up from twenty paces as I greeted my friend at the door and saw the bottle in his hand. I loved Potensac in 2001, a velvety, full bodied wine with dark tones and charm to spare. The ‘03 was highly enjoyable, with sweet fruit and an elegant mouthfeel, an excellent compliment to a steak dinner. However it was not showing much in the way of minerality or some of the other characteristics that set Bordeaux apart from most of the world’s cab-based wines. And at $25 to the ‘01’s sale price of $14, it’s not exactly a bargain anymore.
Speaking of 2001, I had the pleasure of sharing another St. Estephe, Chateau de Pez with some friends over dinner, and was struck by the serious earthy qualities and lip-smacking dryness and just over-all chunky, masculine style of the wine. A bottle of de Pez ’03 that I tried early on was quite disappointing, with a very California style in evidence, jammy and sweet. And I thought St. Estephe was supposed to lead in ’03?
A bottle of the Margaux cru bourgeois La Gurgue was much better, although similarly sweet and jammy. The nose of oak and currants was seductive but still a bit Napa, and nothing like the reserved, complex typicity that I experienced with the 2000 version. It was totally enjoyable with an authentic Polish goulash, however, and I must add that this class of ’03 wines is often highly easy to drink, as evidenced by my steady re-ordering of Vrai Canon Bouche, a perfect mid-week or non-geek wine from Canon-Fronsac. A little less weight and finish than its higher pedigreed siblings but much dryer and with more blueberry fruit and a subtle minerality. Excellent for an under $15 bottle of Bordeaux.
But man does not live by Bordeaux alone – what about the rest of the world? What about Burgundy? I’ve had little chance to try many red or white Burgs from ’03, but did manage to snag a bottle of a favorite of mine in ’02, the sleeper value Chassagne-Montrachet Rouge Villages wine by the famed Ramonet house. Super balanced with incense and beautiful strawberry fruit and texture in ’02, the ’03 version was a crowd-pleasing, fat and seductive fruit bomb. My friend immediately went out and tracked down a half case. Somewhat flabby but altogether charming, it didn’t seem like it would last and I was right: My initial source sold out before I could re-order a single bottle!
Earlier this year I had the wonderful experience of attending an Italian tasting at Zachy’s where five top Piedmont producers were hawking their wares. While the ’04 Barbarescos showed tremendous promise, the atypically light colored ’03 Barolos that were on hand showed a sexy and sumptuous drinkability that was quite alluring. Hardly for purists or traditionalists, I was won over by these wines and vowed to look for more in the future.
As that future arrived in the form of 2003s from another favorite wine region of mine, Chianti, the specter of the torrid Summer of 2003 again reared its head in the form of lush, atypical wines, although wines not without charm. For comparison I offer the Monsanto Chianti Classico Riserva, an excellent quality bargain in ’01 and ’03. While the ’01 had it all in elegance, minerality, complexity and food-worthy acidity, the ’03 was a fat, somewhat jammy but immensely pleasing wine that reminded me of a cross between an Aussie Shiraz and Chianti. The points that were awarded to these wines in the WA could hardly be more illustrative: The ’01 Monsanto drew a rave review but only 88 points, while the ’03 version received a whopping 91.
Ultimately, I can’t make a definitive case one way or the other for the 2003 vintage, as I haven’t tried any of the top wines. But from the perspective or everyday wine drinking with some moderate treats thrown in, I’d say it looks like an appealing, drink now vintage, although not for traditionalists. One way of looking at it is, if these 2003s can stay in the running with the wines I’ve chosen to compare them to, they certainly can’t be all bad. However, there aren’t any obvious cases where the ’03 surpassed its older and more classically perfect reflection.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Masculine/Feminine – A Tale of Two Burgs
Did Jean Luc Godard have Burgundy in mind when he chose the title of his 1966 study of frivolous Parisian youth on the make? It’s doubtful, as there’s plenty to work with when delineating the battle of the sexes at any age or place. But when discussing the various styles of wine, no other region’s wines break down so deliciously into categories of masculine and feminine as do the pinot noirs of Burgundy.
It’s difficult to make a regular habit of the consumption of red Burgundy. To begin with, it’s expensive. And its many charming and seductive qualities make it the perfect candidate for sharing with other serious wine lovers or that special someone. It also cries out for fine cuisine. Put this all together and you probably aren’t going to pop open a bottle to accompany a weeknight baseball game or for a quick pick-me-up after a hard day at the office. However, if I don’t get a good Burg fix every now and then, I start to get this gnawing feeling deep in my bones…
My most recent Burgundy fixation is being fueled by two simultaneous happy occurrences: The reaching of the magic five year mark (well, almost) of my small stash of extremely alluring 2002 reds, and the first releases of the highly anticipated 2005 vintage just starting to appear on the shelves. I chose the following two wines at random and drank them on successive weekends. Ladies first…
Rene LeClerc 2005 Bourgogne Rouge
I was introduced to the wines of Rene LeClerc by a wine merchant in my neighborhood. The first wine I tried was a 1998 Gevry-Chambertin, a village level wine that was delicious, satisfying and one of what many claim are a rarity in the Burgundy racket – a great value. I went back to the well at least three more times. I’ll add that I was so impressed that the first Grand Cru Burg that I ever bought, cellared and subsequently drank was another Rene LeClerc (he’s got a brother, Phillipe, also a winemaker in the Cotes de Nuits), a 1999 Griottes-Chambertin that proved to be much more complex, equally satisfying, much more expensive but still – a good value. To make a long story short, I’m a devoted fan.
So, it was a great joy that I felt when I spotted a bottle of ’05 LeClerc Bourgogne on the shelf of one of my money pits. I’d tried the ’01 version and it was somewhat thin and acidic, but I knew that that was nothing to worry about as ’05 is supposed to be a great vintage across the board while ’01 was a vintage where careful selection was more the rule. I grabbed one and quickly forgot about all the other wines I was lusting after. This says a lot.
I chilled the wine a bit on a Friday night and opened it up, at the same time letting a slab of French Compte warm a little on the table. I usually try to have Burgundy with the appropriate meat or fish, but in this case I felt I could get away with something simpler. Immediately I was struck by the beautiful nose, a mixture of berries, mostly strawberry and that unique “pinot scent” that is so endlessly beguiling. The color was classic translucent ruby/purple, again immediately identifiable as pinot noir, but with a slight brownish tinge, hinting at a relatively early maturity. This wine was totally singing right out of the bottle at age two, which suggests that it was vinified for immediate pleasure. Fine with me!
The most amazing thing about this wine is the texture and body. While the wine is light to medium bodied, you could never really call it just ‘light bodied,’ as it has a subtle chunkiness and fatness to it, with a glycerin texture that’s not at all oily or heavy. It was like a hot summer breeze at night where you can feel the heaviness of the moisture in the air – a very sexy sensation. In a word the mouth feel and texture were ravishing. It also has perfect balance and excellent concentration. Fine tannins were accompanied by perfect acidity (depends on your style preference, of course) with ripe strawberry flavors in abundance. The finish was quite long. The overall effect was of fresh strawberries resting on a pillow of wind. If Helen of Troy showed up at my door, this is the wine I would proffer.
Jadot Pommard 2002
Hopefully, upon my return from the gladiatorial ring, fair Helen would have this wine waiting for me. While certainly not a bruising style of Pommard, Jadot’s village wine in the highly structured and excellent 2002 vintage is both a good example of the Pommard style and highly drinkable now. Pommard is known as the most masculine of the Cotes de Beaune wines, with a chunky, earthy and tannic style. It’s said that most good Pommards require about 10 years of age, and in truth, this wine was a little on the young side. However, not being a premier cru and having somewhat less than ideal storage might have pushed it into an earlier drinking window. Jadot is known for producing highly age-worthy Burgundies.
The nose was fairly reticent, not showing much at this time. The color was a darker shade of purple than most pinots. The palate was medium bodied with an abundance of black fruits – blackberries, cassis and black currants all made multiple appearances. There was a smoky, savory quality, with some hints of incense and spice. The wine opened up considerably in the glass but still the nose was generally absent, a surprise. The finish was long and satisfying. There was a slightly modern aspect to this wine. There was no real evidence of astringency, which is a hallmark of more rustic and traditional Burgs. The wine had a velvety smooth texture with fine but somewhat resolved tannins. Very luxurious and rich. Again, excellent concentration and balance, although somewhat lower acidity than the LeClerc. However, overall the Pommard showed greater depth, richness and complexity.
I served the wine with an herbed chicken sauté and cous cous. The meal was preceded by a 2005 Chalone Vineyards (California) Chardonnay as an aperitif with brie. I don’t think you could truly enjoy this wine away from a proper meal. The acidity and tannins would become too tiresome. Honestly, this was only the second Pommard I’ve ever tried, but it really hit the spot and has lingered in my mind since that night. I don’t remember the producer of the first one, only that it was somewhat disappointing and chosen at a time when I knew very little about Burgundy and the proper food pairings to accompany it.
So, what’s the verdict in the comparison of these two wines? Are they really a ‘his and hers’ pair? Would a glass of LeClerc’s ethereal Bourgogne reflect poorly on your three pound Rolex watch? Or would your hot date suddenly cool your ardor if she began to chug back a lioness’ share of the Pommard? I doubt that very much. I think these wines could even work at the same meal, although I would definitely serve the Bourgogne first, preferably with the appropriate starter. A smoked salmon salad or something similar would be miraculous – yumm! Perhaps a mediating wine might go well between them – is there a wine with a reputation that suggests it could stand in as a marriage counselor? Because, you know that when two extreme opposites like these get together, sparks will fly. Maybe it’s better to just say, – “viva la difference!”
It’s difficult to make a regular habit of the consumption of red Burgundy. To begin with, it’s expensive. And its many charming and seductive qualities make it the perfect candidate for sharing with other serious wine lovers or that special someone. It also cries out for fine cuisine. Put this all together and you probably aren’t going to pop open a bottle to accompany a weeknight baseball game or for a quick pick-me-up after a hard day at the office. However, if I don’t get a good Burg fix every now and then, I start to get this gnawing feeling deep in my bones…
My most recent Burgundy fixation is being fueled by two simultaneous happy occurrences: The reaching of the magic five year mark (well, almost) of my small stash of extremely alluring 2002 reds, and the first releases of the highly anticipated 2005 vintage just starting to appear on the shelves. I chose the following two wines at random and drank them on successive weekends. Ladies first…
Rene LeClerc 2005 Bourgogne Rouge
I was introduced to the wines of Rene LeClerc by a wine merchant in my neighborhood. The first wine I tried was a 1998 Gevry-Chambertin, a village level wine that was delicious, satisfying and one of what many claim are a rarity in the Burgundy racket – a great value. I went back to the well at least three more times. I’ll add that I was so impressed that the first Grand Cru Burg that I ever bought, cellared and subsequently drank was another Rene LeClerc (he’s got a brother, Phillipe, also a winemaker in the Cotes de Nuits), a 1999 Griottes-Chambertin that proved to be much more complex, equally satisfying, much more expensive but still – a good value. To make a long story short, I’m a devoted fan.
So, it was a great joy that I felt when I spotted a bottle of ’05 LeClerc Bourgogne on the shelf of one of my money pits. I’d tried the ’01 version and it was somewhat thin and acidic, but I knew that that was nothing to worry about as ’05 is supposed to be a great vintage across the board while ’01 was a vintage where careful selection was more the rule. I grabbed one and quickly forgot about all the other wines I was lusting after. This says a lot.
I chilled the wine a bit on a Friday night and opened it up, at the same time letting a slab of French Compte warm a little on the table. I usually try to have Burgundy with the appropriate meat or fish, but in this case I felt I could get away with something simpler. Immediately I was struck by the beautiful nose, a mixture of berries, mostly strawberry and that unique “pinot scent” that is so endlessly beguiling. The color was classic translucent ruby/purple, again immediately identifiable as pinot noir, but with a slight brownish tinge, hinting at a relatively early maturity. This wine was totally singing right out of the bottle at age two, which suggests that it was vinified for immediate pleasure. Fine with me!
The most amazing thing about this wine is the texture and body. While the wine is light to medium bodied, you could never really call it just ‘light bodied,’ as it has a subtle chunkiness and fatness to it, with a glycerin texture that’s not at all oily or heavy. It was like a hot summer breeze at night where you can feel the heaviness of the moisture in the air – a very sexy sensation. In a word the mouth feel and texture were ravishing. It also has perfect balance and excellent concentration. Fine tannins were accompanied by perfect acidity (depends on your style preference, of course) with ripe strawberry flavors in abundance. The finish was quite long. The overall effect was of fresh strawberries resting on a pillow of wind. If Helen of Troy showed up at my door, this is the wine I would proffer.
Jadot Pommard 2002
Hopefully, upon my return from the gladiatorial ring, fair Helen would have this wine waiting for me. While certainly not a bruising style of Pommard, Jadot’s village wine in the highly structured and excellent 2002 vintage is both a good example of the Pommard style and highly drinkable now. Pommard is known as the most masculine of the Cotes de Beaune wines, with a chunky, earthy and tannic style. It’s said that most good Pommards require about 10 years of age, and in truth, this wine was a little on the young side. However, not being a premier cru and having somewhat less than ideal storage might have pushed it into an earlier drinking window. Jadot is known for producing highly age-worthy Burgundies.
The nose was fairly reticent, not showing much at this time. The color was a darker shade of purple than most pinots. The palate was medium bodied with an abundance of black fruits – blackberries, cassis and black currants all made multiple appearances. There was a smoky, savory quality, with some hints of incense and spice. The wine opened up considerably in the glass but still the nose was generally absent, a surprise. The finish was long and satisfying. There was a slightly modern aspect to this wine. There was no real evidence of astringency, which is a hallmark of more rustic and traditional Burgs. The wine had a velvety smooth texture with fine but somewhat resolved tannins. Very luxurious and rich. Again, excellent concentration and balance, although somewhat lower acidity than the LeClerc. However, overall the Pommard showed greater depth, richness and complexity.
I served the wine with an herbed chicken sauté and cous cous. The meal was preceded by a 2005 Chalone Vineyards (California) Chardonnay as an aperitif with brie. I don’t think you could truly enjoy this wine away from a proper meal. The acidity and tannins would become too tiresome. Honestly, this was only the second Pommard I’ve ever tried, but it really hit the spot and has lingered in my mind since that night. I don’t remember the producer of the first one, only that it was somewhat disappointing and chosen at a time when I knew very little about Burgundy and the proper food pairings to accompany it.
So, what’s the verdict in the comparison of these two wines? Are they really a ‘his and hers’ pair? Would a glass of LeClerc’s ethereal Bourgogne reflect poorly on your three pound Rolex watch? Or would your hot date suddenly cool your ardor if she began to chug back a lioness’ share of the Pommard? I doubt that very much. I think these wines could even work at the same meal, although I would definitely serve the Bourgogne first, preferably with the appropriate starter. A smoked salmon salad or something similar would be miraculous – yumm! Perhaps a mediating wine might go well between them – is there a wine with a reputation that suggests it could stand in as a marriage counselor? Because, you know that when two extreme opposites like these get together, sparks will fly. Maybe it’s better to just say, – “viva la difference!”
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