Update + Wines of the Year

Needless to say, things have been a bit hectic - par for the course this time of year in the sales industry. Thus, I have not been posting as I should. I will be recounting more of my trip to Burgundy and Champagne in the coming weeks (and hopefully finish before I leave for the Loire at the end of January).

In other news:

I passed the Unit 2 exam for the WSET Diploma Program (with Distinction, I might add). I took the test in Philly on December 10. Next up is Unit 3, all the major wine growing regions of the world.

And...

I thought since everybody else seemed to be coming up with lists of their top wines for 2007 that I would as well (even though the year isn't over and I plan on going
out with a bang - so maybe I'll amend or append to this post after the holidays are over).

Number 1 without question goes to Billecart Salmon's 1996 Grande Cuvée. Incredible stuff (more on this when I post about my visit to Champagne)

The rest in no particular order:

1998 Egly Ouriet Grand Cru Millésimé

1999 Albert Morot Beaune 1er Cru Les Teurons

1990 de Suduiraut

2000 Penfold's Grange

1990 d'Yquem

1994 Dominus

2001 Pierre Bise Coteaux du Layon Beaulieu

1990 Coste-Caumartin Pommard 1er Cru Clos des Boucherottes

NV Egly Ouriet Les Vignes de Vrigny

2004 Far Niente Cabernet Sauvignon Oakville

1996 Simone Palette Blanc

1961 Pédauque Savigny Les Beaune

1996 F. Cotat Sancerre Cuvée Speciale

1975 Montrose

2002 Cameron Pinot Noir Clos Electrique

2006 Domaine Du Dragon Rosé

1997 Gaja Barbaresco

1996 Henriot (in Reims)

2005 Barraud Pouilly Fuissé Alliance

2002 Wegeler Bernkasteler Doctor Riesling Spatlese

2001 La Motte Musique, South Africa

2004 Carm Grande Reserva, Douro

2005 Odysseus Grenache blanc, Priorat

Keswick Part II: The Tasting Notes

Oasis Vineyards 1988 "O" Reserve Rosé:
Salmon pink with a hint of orange. Incredibly fresh with a bit of toast. Hint of cardboard on the nose but I suspect this has something to do with the glassware and not the wine. Good acidity. Nice mousse with good carbon integration. Soft and elegant. Not incredibly complex, although I never would have pegged it for Virginia sparkling wine. Outstanding for what it is and very good for its class. A fine compliment to the paté on the table. Bravo!

Tokaji-Aszu 6 Puttonyos:
Initially very attractive nose, though it took a bit of effort to get beyond the aesthetic appearance of the wine (murky pond water). Hint of maderization with some apricot and leather. Smoke and ash, then caramel coming through. A very pronounced sense of ash on the palate...a lot like a cold fireplace the morning after a fire. Incredible acidity holding everything together. A great match to the torchon of foie gras. I can't help but feel that if they had put a longer cork in the bottle, this would still be drinking. At over one hundred years old though (which Rich asserts is the case), it is mind blowing that it still lives at all.

1957 Cos d'Estournel:
(the photo above captures me pouring the first (dead) bottle into a planter on the patio of Keswick Hall)
Deep color - bright ruby with just a hint of brick at the rim. Unbelievable for a fifty year old wine supposedly long past its best. Very bright red cherry fruit on the nose with a touch of cedar. A very pronounced acidity on the palate lending it a surprising freshness. Medium weight, rather simplistic on the entry and mid-palate, but there is a sense of persistence on the finish. Lean, but making the best of it in a difficult year. Evolved through the first course but began to decline by the entree and had faded by the end of the evening.


1961 Chateau Margaux:
A very young looking, nearly opaque color. Sweet cherries in liqueur with a savory note on the nose. A bit vegetal, like fresh mustard greens. Very perfumed with notes of spice (cinnamon). Sweet, plummy fruit on the attack with a silky texture. Hints of walnut coming through on the mid-palate; plump and smooth (like liquid silk), with ripe tannins still making themselves known. A sweet, long lasting finish. It really lacks the acidity to be a great food wine, though it is a delicious drink. I wanted my first Margaux to be good, and it is (I hope not because of the power of suggestion). A great bottle. But I think it best to sell the other magnum and use the profits to buy a lot of really good bottles (I imagine Andrew will say 3Ls of Muscadet)


1961 Savigny Les Beaune from Pédauque:
Unreal color for a Pinot this old (Syrah added?). Initial nose of potting soil, but it cleaned itself up rather quickly with aromas of cranberry and mushrooms pushing up through the dirt. Intensely sweet attack (sweeter than the Margaux) and quite compact and dense going into the mid-palate and through to the finish. Finely balanced. Kirsch emerging and a hint of allspice. Then orange marmalade. Strawberies on the finish. A little tannin still coating the palate, and firm acidity cleaning everything up. Quite shocking. Delicious. Deserved better than the cheese on our plates.


Baumard 1997 Clos St Catherine:
This might have been the wine of the night had it not been slightly tainted by TCA (not a verdict unanimously shared around the table). Incredible botrytised nose with loads of apricot and ripe apples. Sumptuous texture and focused acidity. What confounded luck! Probably one of the best QPRs for a wine in this category.

Réné Renou 1997 Bonnezeaux "Tri de Vendange":
Quite nearly the opposite in character from the Baumard. Wisps of Botrytis on the nose with a more assertive character of bread dough in new tupperware. Lacks the richness and the balance of the Baumard, but this is almost certainly an unfair comparison. Appears younger and leaner than above, but might fill out in time. After some time in the glass notes of Poire Williams emerged as well as characteristic apricot laced in vanilla aromas. Much too young, though I don't envision greatness for this wine. Time will tell.

Toby's Birthday Dinner at Keswick

I can't imagine what people must think of our fin de siècle indulgences despite it being the very beginning of the century? I spent the week trying to recover from the mammoth hangover I acquired as a result of my birthday dinner in order to be ready for Toby's the following Sunday.

The line-up of wines could not have been more exciting and I was eagerly anticipating the dinner for a number of reasons, but mainly because it would bring me one wine closer to achieving my First Growth goal. Well, that and of course, to celebrate Toby's 32 years of raucous living.

We spent the week coordinating the details with Richard, the Sommelier at Keswick. I took the wines over a couple of days early to let them rest in the hotel cellar. The site of me delicately wheeling magnums of old Bordeaux across the lobby and dining room on a luggage trolley was quite hilarious I assure you, though maybe I made more of a spectacle of myself than needed.

We arrived at the restaurant around 715pm and while I conditioned the bottles to be opened and arranged specifics with the wine waiter, Rich poured the apéritif: a bottle of 1988 Oasis "O" Reserve Rosé. This Virginia sparkling wine spent 15 years on its lees before dégorgement. The resulting wine was incredibly fresh, elegant and delicious, not to mention a huge surprise. I've had a few bottles of well aged Virginia wine that proved quite palatable, but this really transcended its pedigree. I don't mean to say that Virginia wines aren't improving dramatically in quality, but for something from 1988-when the VA wine industry was still in its infancy-to taste so delicious surprised me.

We toasted the birthday boy and got down to the business of eating our amuse: Port poached pear with goat cheese and microgreens.

After this I decanted one of the two bottles of Tokaji from an unascertained producer and vintage. This information remains unknown as all that remains of the label is the seal (depicting a crown with a cloak suspended from it with two shields in the middle) and the cursive letters "...kaji-A..." The bottle had been blown by hand as evidenced by its many irregularities. The cork was tiny and did not have a vintage printed on it. The wine itself appeared a murky mess, similar to puddle water, with a slightly more appetizing aroma. The wine contained a significant amount of sediment. Somehow Toby knew that it was 6 Puttonyos. We drank this wine along with a foie gras course (two ways: 1)torchon on apple compote and, 2)seared lobe on apple tatin tartelets. I had a scallop dish. The wine was remarkable as a curiousity, but it also tasted pretty good. Rich speculated that the bottle dated back to the Austro-Hungarian empire based on the seal and the hand-made glass.

We moved to reds next with a magnum of 1957 Cos d'Estournel. The first bottle seemed completely maderized and so we opened the second bottle. This wine really surprised me considering the vintage (Broadbent gives it a whopping one star out of five) and the age (fifty years old). It had retained a lot of vigor. I guess the underripe grapes had given the wines a solid dose of age defying acidity. This wine went somewhat clumsily with the haute version of chicken and dumplings: chicken with potato gnocchi and wild mushrooms with truffle emulsion sauce. The dish proved quite pleasant although I didn't quite understand why the chef decided to serve it in a demi-tasse.

The main event followed with the 1961 Chateau Margaux from Magnum. I opened the more decrepit looking of the two bottles and found that despite appearances the wine was solidly intact. Definitely a show stealer compared to the other wines, which were leaner with more elevated acidities. The Margaux had the flesh and fruit to charm, though maybe not quite the requisite acidity for the trio of lamb that arrived shortly after we poured the wine. The trio consisted of Rack of lamb, braised shoulder, and sweet breads. The Margaux worked quite well with the braised shoulder but I had my doubts as to the harmony with the other two. The major problem stemmed from the chef's over liberal use of salt (and we all know that salt and cab are not a pleasant combination). I had to send back my mushroom canneloni because it was inedible due to an overdose of salt. Despite the shortcomings of the food, the wine definitely showed very well. (Andrew had saved some Cos and liked that wine with lamb much better). Overall, I concluded that the Margaux deserved less assertive flavors, or no food at all. Simply to sit, consider, and enjoy this wine would have been enough.

With the cheese course we enjoyed a very inspiring bottle of 1961 Savigny-les-Beaune from a négociant in Aloxe Corton called Pédauque (from Magnum). Atypically full of color for a nearly half century old bottle of Burgundy, it still possessed a central core of red fruits that belied its age. In retrospect, it may have been more appropriate to serve the Cos with the cheese and the Burgundy with the Chicken dish. It just didn't occur to me that a 46 year old Cotes de Beaune from a négoce would be drinking so well.

And then came dessert: a bottle of 1997 Baumard Clos St Catherine (to my dismay, slightly corked, though it showed rather well despite this flaw) and the 1997 Réné Renou Bonnezeaux "Tri de Vendange" which proved underwhelming with its lack of botrytis.

Overall it was an epic wine event and (hopefully) a memorable birthday celebration for Toby. Many thanks to all those who helped make it happen: Toby, Cathy, Ted, Andrew, Amy, and Rich. Cheers!

See Part II for the Tasting Notes.

Birthday Dinner Part II: The Tasting Notes

Henriot 1996 Brut:
Very toasty, bready nose with notes of nuttiness and a hint of oxidation. A bit piquante with a sharp feel on the palate. More evolved than the two bottles tasted two days prior leading me to believe that this was an unrepresentative example. High octane acidity though, with lemon on the palate.

I also had this bottle in Champagne at the Michelin One Star restaurant Foch in Reims. Based on those notes and the two bottles the previous Friday I would definitely conclude that this was an off bottle, though it was enjoyable, just not compared to the better examples.

Jacquesson 1996 Brut:
Pure, clean and fresh. Very youthful with a yeasty aspect, a hint of sour milk, and toasted nuts on the nose. Laser like acidity with apples and toasted almonds on the lingering finish. Quite a lot of evolution and persistence on the palate. Very nice and à point. More elegant than the rosé, with a little more purity, though most likely overshadowed by its opulence.

Jacquesson 1995 Grand Cru Rosé Extra Brut:
Initial aromatics quite impressive. Again, very youthful with hints of strawberry. Far more masculine than the 1996, and very Pinot dominated, mineral driven nose. Firm acidity with a pronounced slate component. Opened up deliciously with expressive red fruits and a hint of oak. Quite complimentary to the food and holding its own unlike the 1996, which proved much too refined for fried shrimp with soy sauce reduction.

Chateau Simone 1996 Palette Blanc:
The color less golden than the Pinot Gris below, despite being six years its senior. Initially quite austere with anise/licorice, almost ouzo and fresh herbs on the nose. Intriguing and compelling from the get-go. Fat and round on the palate, although not overly so, with a nice viscosity. Licorice found there too. Really nearly white burgundy in character without any of the signs of oxidation I would expect from this vintage (maybe that is a bit harsh?). Really incredible stuff - so fresh.

Zind Humbrecht 2002 Pinot Gris "Clos Windsbuhl:"
Rather impatiently trying to make its presence felt before I even brought the glass to my nose. Assertive-though I could nearly write aggressive without feeling it an exaggeration-nose with notes of citrus (grapefruit) and spice. Almost a gewurz like spicyness to it with lychee as well. A lot like the smell of forcing cloves into the skin of an orange at Christmas. Sweet and big on the palate. Also viscous and high in alcohol, though holding it all together relatively well, like an overstuffed suitcase barely clasped, precarious, but doing its job. A little vegetal but not in a bad way. Grapey with some botrytis present. Very nice, and with the Simone a superlative flight.

1997 Cheval Blanc:
Youthful, slightly vegetal nose with notes of vanilla, yogurt, and milk chocolate. Very closed down and dumb. Plummy fruit on the palate, with some unripe banana peel, menthol, and smoke. Curious. Only really has it begun to shed its cloak of baby fat. Frustratingly reticent. Pretty mouthfeel, with good weight. Slightly out of balance with a touch of alcohol poking through. A very elegant and maddening wine. I'd give it another ten years. I can't help but feel like we committed what amounts to borderline infanticide. A delightful experience and a good wine, but has yet to really hit its stride.


1985 Pichon Lalande:
Great color. Hardly any signs of bricking at the rim. Green pepper nose with menthol. At first, this vegetable patch nose was off-putting, but I grew to appreciate it in the end. Great extraction. A Lot of body. I couldn't believe it was an '85. It has more of the weight of an '82 or '86 (though without the grip of the '86 vintage). Surprisingly masculine yet stately at the same time. Very pretty wine, balanced, alive. Drink up though as I don't foresee it getting much better than this.

1984 Cos d'Estournel:
Certainly a little past its best, but actually really incredible considering the vintage conditions. Seems like Cos never fails to surprise me in the bad years and disappoints in the better ones. Alcohol on the nose with a very present lactic character. Less vegetal than the Pichon, though arriving at that state of maderization which implies death. Great color though. Pretty nice on the palate, with good acidity. A bit woody. Past its sell by date, but worth the $30 I paid for it.

1978 Talbot:
Pure mushroom on the nose. Definitely a sense of the geriatric about it. Faded brick, nearly brown color. Green pepper (well, at least it is a consistent trend)and cedar on the nose. Incredible acidity though, most likely the only thing keeping it going. Not maderized, just really, really advanced. Very surprising. And interesting. Probably should have been drunk no later than 1992.

2000 Haut Brion(!):
Ha! Not giving up anything. Totally the trogolodite and unwilling to come out of its cave. Probably just set in for winter hibernation that I cant see lasting less than eight more years (though probably more). Wisps of smoke, cedar, and flint. Incredible texture. Impeccable balance. Impossible to assess. Drink after 2020, unless you like to be bored and disappointed by your first growths.

Leacock's 1966 Bual:
Dark brown color. Sherried-like nose with spice, pralines, and coffee beans. An array of flavors: caramel, spice, and figs. Great acidity. Salty and sweet simultaneously on the palate. Very good, though I can't help but feel that we could have spent one third of the price we paid for it on a bottle of ten year and been just as happy. Probably a little overpriced.

A Birthday Extravaganza at the Clifton

On the occasion of my 23rd birthday we convened at the Clifton Inn Relais and Chateaux just east of town. The guests included (the usual suspects): Paul, Toby, Andrew (the Clifton's interim Sommelier), Stacy (who arrived late as usual), and of course, myself. We sat at the chef's table and enjoyed Dean Maupin's custom created menu (in collaboration with Andrew).

I originally dictated a black tie dress code, though I relaxed this to "look nice." I wore vintage cutaway tails and a bow tie...

Andrew, Toby and I arrived early to set things up, in other words, gawk at the bottles of wine we brought and lasciviously grope them as we waited for the remaining two dinner guests. Paul arrived shortly thereafter. We enjoyed the use of a private deck leading from the kitchen where we were to dine. It was a beautiful fall evening, one of the first cool nights of the season, and we had the pleasure of watching a spectacular sunset.

Eventually we seated ourselves and opened the first bottle of the night, Henriot 1996 Brut. We sipped this bubbly while waiting for Stacy to arrive. The Chef sent out plates of duck prosciutto with duck cracklings scattered on top to tide us over until the main even started. As the minutes ticked away with still no sign of Stacy (who called and used the end of Daylight Savings Time as her excuse, though we were still one week away from this clock changing event). The chef then sent out tempura fried shrimp with a soy sauce glaze that arrived near the end of the Henriot and as we began to pour the first flight of wines, 1996 Jacquesson Brut and 1995 Jacquesson Grand Cru Rosé Extra Brut. These Champagnes showed extraordinarily well, though were overshadowed a bit by the anticipation and nervous excitement of the wines to come. The 1996 displayed everything I love in a good Champagne: elegance, refinement, purity, and complexity. The rosé certainly wooed everyone with its power and ability to pair with nearly every dish that arrived during its tenure in the glass.

Our Amuse arrived after the shrimp: a fried cornichon with smoked salmon sandwiched between some sort of root vegetable chip. The salty/fried aspect of this plate coupled with both of these acid driven Champagnes paired nicely, although the 1996 Brut, in its subtlety, seemed slightly overwhelmed.

A bottle of 1996 Chateau Simone Palette Blanc and a 2002 Zind Humbrecht Pinot Gris "Clos Windsbuhl" (both from Andrew's cellar) made up the next flight. I considered this to be the best flight of the night, not necessarily because they were the best bottles, but because of the singular personality of each. The Simone, with its texture and freshness despite its age, simply stunned me. I do not know if Robert Chadderdon still imports this wine, but it represents yet one more confirmation of his good taste. The Zind-Humbrecht, petulant, assertive, trying to dominate (and did) with its incredible aromatics paired deliciously with Quail warpped in prosciutto stuffed with fontina and sage, as did the Simone, but in a very different way. The Simone complemented the nuances of the dish, playing off of the sage and highlighting it. The Pinot Gris's texture and sweetness were a nice foil to the meat itself and the saltiness of the prosciutto.

The next flight also consisted of two wines: 1997 Cheval Blanc and 1985 Pichon Lalande Comtesse, neither of which I thought were stellar, though both were very good. I suppose I had high expectations. We should have decanted the Cheval much sooner (we opted for about a half hour before the main course). This wine has definitely lost its baby fat but is still in an awkward stage of development. Despite many a critic's assertion that this vintage in Bordeaux is forgettable, I have had many very good wines at quite reasonable prices from 1997. The Cheval Blanc is a great example that even in a purportedly poor vintage there can exist some ageworthy wines. At age ten this wine shows no sign of fading away and if anything has yet to reach its best. I'd give it another three to five years to hit its stride. The Pichon disappointed more than pleased, though many at the table thought it showed very well. Coming from a 1985 Leoville Barton on my previous birthday (and a 1975 Pichon about four months ago), the Comtesse surpised me with its very pronounced green bell pepper component that reminde me more of 2004 Burgundy rather than 1985 Bordeaux. The Chef sent out lamb with mushroom risotto (I just ate the risotto, which was terrific) as our main course.

With the cheese plate we opened a bottle of 1984 Cos D'Estournel (a birth year bottle) that showed very well considering the vintage and unknown provenance. Initially quite pleasant though after about three minutes in the glass it developed a rather maderized aromatic profile. Knowing this wine might be far past its best, I also brought a bottle of 1978 Talbot. This wine was all mushrooms. Both were quite drinkable and appropriate with the cheese.

For dessert we drank a bottle of 1966 Leacock's Bual Madeira. While interesting and tasty, I felt that, had I paid full price for it, I would have been disappointed. As it was a gift from Andrew though, I thought it lovely. To be honest, however, I had to reread my notes the following morning in order to remember how it tasted.


We did have a regal guest arrive sometime during the entrée (actually Ted made his appearance right around then also, if I remember correctly...he seems to show up at the most opportune moments) namely, a bottle of 2000 Haut Brion. A party of four in the main dining room ordered this First Growth Bordeaux from the wine list and, as the story goes, were presented the bottle (which they accepted), had it decanted and served. About ten minutes later the gentleman who had ordered the wine asked to see the bottle, proceeded to tell the server it was the wrong bottle (he wanted the 2001 Lafite, not the 2000 Haut Brion), demanded the Lafite and sent back the Haut Brion. Much to our delight, the dejected manager shared the bottle with us. This wine, at $780 on the wine list, probably represents the lowest quality to price ratio on the entire wine list. Dense, compact, and not giving up anything, one would need a considerable amount of patience for this wine to come around. At least twenty years. Drink 2025 through 2060. I kid you not.

Part Two soon with Tasting Notes...

Burgundy Part II: Domaine Coste-Caumartin Tasting Notes

2005 Bourgogne Chardonnay: Wildflower honey on the very forward, pretty nose. Really incredible aromatics – white flowers, honeysuckle, anise and then a minerality and hint of seashells. Nice on the palate, not as rich as the nose suggests, a bit of alcohol, and yellow apple with fine persistence. Excellent wine for its appellation.

2004 Bourgogne Chardonnay: Much more restrained though with a hint of tropical fruits, some smokiness, toasted nuts, and the acidity present on the nose. Showing some oxidative qualities on the palate with great acidity and a touch of toasted hazelnut on the finish. Not as generous and harder to evaluate than above.

2005 Saint Romain “Sous le Chateau”: Similar aromatic profile to the 2005 Chardonnay; forward honey and floral components with a little oak present (though no new oak is used for this cuvee). Very delicate and more mineral. Nice palate of lemon zest with good acidity and palpable texture. Great balance. Pure and elegant. Really, very nice.

2004 Saint Romain “Sous le Chateau”: Gun flint and wet slate right off the bat on the nose with a hint of green and white pepper. Fat in the mouth (surprisingly more so than the 2005) and a little one-dimensional compare to the previous wine, but then the acid kicks in and gives it good lift. Curious.

2006 Bourgogne Chardonnay: (tank sample) lemon-lime and honey, with a bit of melon. Very fresh, round and seemingly sweet.

2006 Saint Romain “Sous le Chateau”: (tank sample) Showing very well, elegant, understated. Mineral driven with a hint of white pepper. Classically styled. I am convinced that these Saint Romains are of Premier Cru quality. Really refined.

2005 Bourgogne Passe-Tout-Grain: Ruby color with an expressive, though volatile nose of strawberry fruit and alcohol. Nice, light, very crisp, and refreshing. Blind I might have guessed it a white wine, save for the tannin. I guess even gamay grown around the village of Pommard has the characteristic Pommard bite. Despite the volatility, a nice example of its type. An interesting note on this— and somewhat perplexing—the following day when I tasted it, the volatility had dissipated considerably to be replaced by nice cherry fruit aromas. Usually the volatility becomes even more pronounced with oxidation…

2005 Pommard: Showing great typicity with cherry and medicine cabinet aromas. Sweet attack, a little volatile, and lighter in style but with a lot of grip. Nearly Volnay like elegance, but finished with that Pommard grip.

2005 Pommard “La Rue au Porte”: Reticent, with notes of red currant. None of the volatility as above, but then note quite as complex either. Very tight. Richer palate, good grip and great acidity. Hard to assess.
The next day: Earthier, with a bit of the rusty drain pipe about it. Mouth filling and firm. Very nice.

2005 Pommard 1er Cru “Les Fremiers”: (from a parcel adjacent to the Volnay 1er Cru of the same name and just south of Les Jarollières) Very pretty, complex, composed, and elegant nose of red berry fruits. A whisper of dried herbs. Very fresh, rich, full, and tannic. Very complete on the palate, though a hint of bitterness on the finish disrupts the nearly harmonious qualities of this wine. Very persistent. Delicious, but I do have some concern regarding the astringent tannins. If these integrate, it has quite a lot of potential.

2005 Pommard 1er Cru “Clos des Boucherottes”: (from Sordet’s Monopole vineyard on the other end of the village, adjacent to the Beaune 1er Cru Boucherottes) Tight. A bit of Mercurochrome, along with delicate raspberry notes. Full and rich with the right proportions of everything: oak, fruit, acid, tannin, and alcohol. Complex. Toasty finish. Complete, but needs time.

2002 Beaune 1er Cru “Les Chouacheux”: Volatile nose with a hint of banana. Not particularly alluring. Minerality noted on the palate. Tannic. Hints of toasted hazelnut skins. Too much structure (acid and tannin), not enough fruit. Simply too volatile.

2002 Pommard 1er Cru “Les Fremiers”: Showing consistently similar and frustrating volatility on the nose, though much more interesting on the palate. Certainly more tannic. Alcohol and raspberries. Again, not quite enough stuffing for the structure.

2002 Pommard 1er Cru “Clos des Boucherottes”: Again, consistent volatile element in the three 2002s, but definitely showing the best of the three. Sage on the palate. Still boasting big, unresolved tannins, though they are proving to be riper and suppler that the Fremiers. Touch of cedar. On the fence with these.

With Dinner:

1990 Pommard 1er Cru “Fremiers”: Really intense aromatics of milk chocolate, leather, game and barnyard. A tad maderized, but not in the least off-putting. Rich and full on the palate with good sweetness. Nothing thin about this vintage and none of the volatility of the 2002s. A very nice wine from an obviously ripe vintage. (1990 was Jerome Sordet’s second year at the helm of this Domaine, he handled it quite well if these two wines are any indication)

1990 Pommard “Clos des Boucherottes”: Great color, reminded me of the 2002, deep, nearly opaque. Still an adolescent and barely hitting its stride, it was reticent and muted on the nose. Earth and spice aromas emerged after some coaxing. Definitely a wine on which to reflect. Very rich, full bodied, and well balanced, but maddeningly closed. Hint of game and some walnut on the palate. Give it another ten years to come around and drink it over the next thirty.

Burgundy Part I: In The Shadow of the Grands Ducs

August 31. I arrived in Geneva on Friday morning after a long, but not unpleasant flight. I made my way through customs to the Europcar desk and received the keys to my Fiat Panda. By 10:00 am I was beyond the borders of my childhood city and somewhere in the mountains of the Savoie region of France. I made the A-6 by noon. At Tournus, a small, medieval city north of Macôn I turned off the autoroute and caught one of the small roads leading west out of the city.

There exist many scenic roads in France that offer incredible sightseeing, and the D-14 proved no exception. The road winds through some very pretty countryside that includes many vineyards and, perhaps more spectacularly, a castle dating back a few hundred years or more in each of the small villages that one passes. I drove toward one of these in particular, the Chateau Le Noble on the outskirts of a town named, La-Chapelle-sous-Brancion.

The old priory housed the few chambres d’hôtes available at this chateau, with origins dating back to the early 16th century. The garrulous Monsieur de Cherisey welcomed me and told me about his own vineyards when I explained to him my reason for being in Burgundy, namely, the wine. After a brief session of unpacking, I got back into the cozy Panda and drove north.

The names of the towns became more familiar as I drove. Givry. Rully. I noticed signs pointing me toward Maranges and Santenay. I did not stop in any of these towns though I very much would have enjoyed doing so. I had a 4:30 pm appointment in Pommard for which I did not want to be late. While driving I noticed that the Bourguignons were already deep into the harvest. The official start date had been proclaimed some two weeks earlier, the second earliest ban de vendange in history. I was a bit put-off that my trip here coincided with the harvest. This would make it much more difficult to see some of the producers I desired to visit.

Lydie, the assistante commerciale, met me at the door of the domaine. She led me to the tasting room where I was asked to wait while Monsieur Sordet, the proprietor of Domaine Coste-Caumartin returned from picking his Boucherottes, a premier cru vineyard just outside of Pommard in the commune of Beaune.

Monsieur Sordet arrived shortly thereafter and he, Lydie, and myself sat down and tasted through the wines in which I had expressed some interest for the American market (tasting notes can be found in the follow-up post). After the tasting session, Monsieur Sordet drove me through Pommard and showed me his climats, including his pride and joy, Clos des Boucherottes, a premier cru monopole vineyard. We also drove through Saint Romain, a charming little village at the top of a hill a bit off the well-known route des grands crus. Monsieur Sordet has sizeable holdings (for Burgundy) in Saint Romain. His family has its origins there. His brother owns the actual Chateau for which the “Sous le Chateau” vineyard is named.

While driving we discussed the harvest. He said that he was waiting for the Chardonnay to achieve greater ripeness, but that the Pinot could not have waited any longer, as rot had become a serious threat to the quality of the grapes. He said it would most likely be a difficult Pinot Noir vintage in the Côte de Beaune, but a good Chardonnay year.

When we returned to the Domaine the harvesters had assembled in the dining room to eat. We joined them. With the cheese course that ended the meal, Monsieur Sordet produced two older bottles of Pommard including his 1990 Pommard Premier Cru Clos des Boucherottes, Wine Spectator’s #23 in the Top 100 of 1993, imported at the time by Kermit Lynch (who, of course, insisted the wines be unfined and unfiltered). This wine was singing, barely hitting it’s stride, and certainly one of the finest Pommards I have drunk.

Thursdays in the Cellar: A Rhone BYO Part III

The Tasting Notes Part II:

9. 1996 Jaboulet Cornas
Corked!? Though there was some debate around the table whether or not TCA was the culprit.

10. 2000 La Bastide Saint Dominique Chateauneuf-du-Pape “Secrets de Pignan”
Aromatics requiring energetic coaxing…so different compared to al the other so far (it is, after all, 100% Grenache). Fresh and sweet with notes of caramel and a bit of wet earth, milk chocolate and roasted meat (was the smell of the food interfering with the aromatics of the wine?) The palate so generous compared to the austerity of syrah: soft, smooth, and strawberry jam.

Evolving: Raspberry on the nose, though subtle. A little citrus on the palate along with strawberry hi-c. A sweet, nearly liqueur like quality about it. Very easy and delicious. I noted, “not my style, but very nice,” though looking back on this comment I ask myself, “why not?” It sounds great.

11. 2000 Penfold’s Grange (one of the few 100% Shiraz vintages)
Very close to the Hermitage actually, except the rich, ripe fruit underpinning the more dominant leather and game aromas. The color opaque with no sign at all of age. A little V8 juice cocktail on the nose as well. Violets and sweet oak spice. Huge extraction but impeccably balanced. Dark chocolate verging on cocoa powder without the bitterness. Sweet, full, incredibly multi-layered texture. Very supple. Eases into and across the mouth. So sleek. Mouth drying finish. A savory, black licorice persistence. Very young, though quite accessible. The finest Australian wine I have ever tasted. I was skeptical about this wine initially, and while Parker sites it as, “not one of the great Granges,” it was delicious. Based on this one bottle, I would say Grange deserves its reputation as one of the finest wines in the world.

12. 2003 Zaca Mesa “Z Three” Santa Ynez Valley, California
(52% Shiraz/46% Mourvèdre/2% Grenache)
Blood orange on the nose and sweet berry fruit with some tar and menthol. Wants to get your attention, kind of like a Labrador. Big, chunky, monolithic, and chewy. High in alcohol. Sweet, easy, pleasant. Again, not my style but good in its own way, like a candy bar is good every once in a while. Definitely decadent. Doing a fairly decent job of maintaining its balance despite the alcohol.

13. 2005 Mitolo GAM Shiraz McLaren Vale, Australia
Sweet blackberries and cream with some yogurt and vanilla extract, oak, and alcohol on the nose. Sweet, full, rich, and alcoholic. A monster of a wine (the second monster of the night, we nearly could have made it a Halloween party). Dense and I noted, dirty. Overly alcoholic, despite its claims at 14.5%. Vanilla and blackberry on the finish with mouth searing alcohol and tannins. A chore to taste.

The next day: Toasty oak and blackberry leaf on the nose. Kind of funky (I think the yogurt was going sour). Sweet attack, but something strikes me mid-palate that is off-putting…leading into a finish of (you guessed it) a whole lot of alcohol and some blue fruits. Perplexing really.

14. 2003 Tintara Reserve Shiraz McLaren Vale
Positively subdued compared to the previous wine. A bit of rubber tire . Monolithic yes, but not bad really. Crème de Cassis on the palate. Huge extraction. Grippy tannins. Too much for me.

The next day: Let me start by saying that I did want to like this wine. Interesting sort of sour milk and oak spice on the nose, along with blueberries and blackberries. Quite dense, nearly impenetrable palate. Lots of glycerol. I don’t really know what to make of it.

15. 2001 Chateau Pierre Bise Coteaux du Layon Beaulieu “Papin-Chevalier”
Showing excellent botrytis character on the nose with a bit of petrol, apricot, and citrus rind. Rich, concentrated, viscous with solid lift from the acidity. Mineral and stone fruit palate. Very, very nice.

16. 2003 Chapoutier Banyuls
Blueberry pie filling on the nose with blackberries on the palate. A bit bitter with a tannic finish. Sweet, mid-weight, with a hint of tobacco. Not nearly as interesting as the Chenin, but an unfair comparison. Great supporting acidity. Surprisingly hefty tannins. Structured to age a while yet, though it finishes a bit short.

Thursdays in the Cellar: A Rhone BYO Part II

The Tasting Notes Part I:

1. 2002 J.L. Chave Hermitage Blanc
Oaky, vanilla nose with notes of anise and culinary herbs. Richly textured with serious viscosity. Alcohol and oak dominating the palate. Savory finish with the anise lingering, along with a sense of seashells and salt air. Wood tannins noted. Pretty good, but not worth the money.

2. 2002 Fidelitas Syrah Columbia Valley, Washington
In your face new world syrah aromatics. A bit of wet paint and banana peel on the nose. Dark and dense with some blueberry, tree bark, and sweet spice. Nice, full, dense palate showing decent acidity and firm, chewy tannin. Persistent. Quite complex. A pleasant sweetness. Very good.

3. 2003 K Syrah Morrison Lane Walla Walla Valley, Washington
Toasted hazelnuts, alcohol, and canned tomatoes on the nose. Huge extraction with sweet plumy fruit underlying the chunky, chewy, oak dominated palate. Long in the mouth (all the glycerol). Ted said, “monolithic.” I cheerily agreed with him. Not my style, but I am sure it will have its fans. For me, simply too unbalanced and over the top in every way: oak, alcohol, and extraction.

The next day: Again, the alcohol ever present. But has sweetened up some with ripe plums and vanilla on the nose. Besides this aspect of fruit, remains essentially the same: a huge monster of a wine.

4. 1995 Alain Graillot Crozes-Hermitage
At the opposite end of the syrah spectrum with this…leather and game, garrigue and licorice with wet slate and a bit of smoked bacon. Sweet entry going into a mushroom and leather casserole of a mid-palate. Still has grip and good acidity. Mouth coating and drying tannins. A very long finish of autumn leaves and sweet spice. For those who enjoy the tertiary aspects of age and don’t mind a deficiency of fruit. Very nice.

The next day: Gnarly old wood and smoked meat aromas with a bit of black olive tapenade. Mouth drying tannins haven’t settled down here at all.

5. 2005 M. Chapoutier Côtes du Rhone “Belleruche” Blanc
Showing great typicity (I noted, though I’ve probably only tasted thirty or so white Côtes du Rhones in my career). Apple and pear aromas. Very refreshing sense of yellow apple and a hint of fennel on the palate. Full and big, but balanced, with some tannic bite. Nice wine.

6. 2002 J.L. Chave Hermitage Rouge
Perfumed nose. Quite feminine. Restrained. Floral and a bit of game, raw meat, and pine needles. Medium weight and soft. I noted here, “really reminds of 1999 La Tour Haut Brion.” Great balance. A cool feeling in the mouth. Quite nice, even if it isn’t up to the usual snuff. Doing the best he can in a difficult vintage. Delicious, but not worth the money.

7. 1995 Chapoutier Hermitage “Le Pavillon”
Shockingly, extremely primary. Violets. The nose not giving anything up. A wine in hibernation. On the palate: great concentration and much fuller than above with a more palpable texture. Cigar box finish. Lots of potential here, but very, very reticent. I wouldn’t touch it for another ten years, at least, though it is capable of lasting far longer. A very subtle wine, soft with very ripe tannins that nearly disguise just how well structured it really is. Delicious and probably worth every penny Vincent paid for it in the late nineties.

8. 1990 E. Guigal Hermitage
Much more evolved aromatics though the color is incredible, nearly opaque with just a slight brickiness at the rim. Game, leather, meat, and cinnamon. Quite rich aromatics. Sweet entry with a very dominant gamey quality kicking in mid-palate. Like walking into a leather store and inhaling while chewing some walnuts recently released from the shell. Very long in the mouth. Not quite on par texture wise with the Chapoutier but an easier Hermitage to spot.

Evolving: a bit of root beer candy. Freshening up a bit, shedding its cloak of leather but keeping the vest on. Big red gum.

Later: fading. The nose a bit like a cold fireplace the morning after a conflagration. Very nice, but drink up.

Thursdays in the Cellar: A Rhone BYO Part I

An Homage to Hermitage

When Paul told me that he would be available to hang out on Thursday evening, I decided to host the weekly Thursday’s In The Cellar series at my house and turn it into a dinner party. Paul had a few bottles he wanted to try, all of them based on Syrah or Shiraz, thus I told all the invitees to bring Rhone or Rhone style wines.

When Thursday arrived the air seemed electrified by our enthusiasm. I probably received 25 phone calls with last minute questions and suggestions. For most of us, this would be a night of epic proportions. Many of the guests had never experienced such a high caliber line-up of wines.

Admittedly, I focused poorly during the day. I allowed work to become secondary to ensuring that everything was in order for the party. I made trips to the grocery store to buy food. I did this despite having told everyone to bring his or her own grill item. To ease the financial burden on myself I had previously decided to make it a BYOB/BYOS (steak) party. I thought, “I’ll fire up the grill and let everyone do their own cooking.”

Vincent arrived early with two really beautiful bottles in hand. He then proceeded to feel guilty for not having brought any food though I told him I had plenty. Paul and Joe showed up shortly thereafter bearing gifts of hummus, bread, and cheese with which to start our feast. Toby, Andrew, and Ted ambled in. My new housemate Stacie freely mingled with the arrived company. Stacy (the usually appearing one) was, of course, late.

We started with a bottle of Schild Estate Sparkling Shiraz, which I can’t deny disliking. After a few sips I poured mine down the drain and opened a bottle of the 2002 J.L. Chave Hermitage Blanc. During this wine we all sort of stood around the kitchen talking. I made final hors d’oeuvres arrangements, checked the temperature of my wine cooler (where the reds were waiting at 63 degrees) and forced everyone to sit down at the makeshift dining room table I set up in the living room (more space now that Marita moved to Philadelphia with all the furniture). After some rather boisterous conversation around the table, I noticed that Vincent had disappeared. I imagined he must have gone outside to check on the charcoal situation, but when I went out there myself, he was nowhere to be found. Odd, I thought.

While Vincent was gone we opened a variety of wines, in no particular order, as I found it impossible to control this rowdy group. I opted for a laissez-faire attitude, hoping that it would work itself out. The resulting sequence in which the wines were tasted makes little sense. We jumped around from full-bodied new world examples, to lighter, older northern Rhone vintages. My apologies to those who might find this sacrilege, but I no longer held the reins at this point. In the end, it worked out quite well, although it did seem chaotic during the pre-meal tasting, with bottles being handed around the table wily-nilly.

On the table could be found: hummus, pita chips, cheese, bread, Tom’s fantastic pâté, crackers, chips, and salsa.

We opened and tasted through the following bottles:

2002 Fidelitas Syrah Columbia Valley, Washington (From my cellar courtesy of Paul)

2003 K Syrah Morrison Lane Walla Walla Valley, Washington (from Andrew’s Collection)

1995 Alain Graillot Crozes-Hermitage (from Vincent’s collection)

Vincent showed back up on the scene at this point (appropriately as we were tasting his wine) with two shopping bags full of food. A whole pork loin, spices, etc. Portobello mushrooms. He went to work cooking for the entire group. I had bought some lamb and fixed it up earlier in the day. Andrew brought lamb also and two types of sausages. Paul and Joe brought steaks.

Then Stacy arrived.

She began peddling her wines to anyone who would listen. She had just come from an account and remained in full salesperson mode. Her audience, all restaurateurs or wine shop stewards didn’t help this. I told her to calm down a little, as she was at a party not at work. She opened:

2005 M. Chapoutier Côtes du Rhone “Belleruche” Blanc

2005 Zaca Mesa Roussanne, California

200? Horton Viognier, Virginia

During these latter two wines I was assisting Vincent (who had ducked out when Stacy began her impassioned speech on Horton Vineyards) with the grilling, as was Andrew, who seems very much in love with cooking.

I occasionally popped back in the house to clean a tray or grab a plate. During these brief inside moments I caught some of the propaganda in favor of the three whites, with Stacy stopping mid sentence, as I appeared to ensure I tasted these “terrific” wines. I missed the Zaca Mesa Roussanne, though I did hear very positive commentary on it. The Horton Viognier I thought poor in quality and dumped it onto the fire when Vincent needed to coals contained to a more moderate temperature. I took notes on the white CDR and these can be found in Part II of this post.

Vincent, Andrew, and I arrived at table bearing great platters of food. Grilled Portobello mushrooms and green beans on one plate. A mountain of meat on another platter: pork loin, sausage, steak, and lamb. It truly was a feast fit for a carnivorous confrèrie of wine and food lovers. (I had a pre-made tuna burger courtesy of Whole Foods).

Two flights of three wines each accompanied the food (quite possibly the most interesting and delectable flights I’ve ever had, apart from a previous dinner of 1982 Bordeaux that included Talbot, Léoville Poyferré, Léoville Las Cases and La Mission Haut Brion). The spit buckets were pushed aside and left to lie unused, as we tasted through these:

2002 J.L. Chave Hermitage Rouge (Both of the Chaves brought by Paul)

1995 Chapoutier Hermitage “Le Pavillon” (Vincent)

1990 E. Guigal Hermitage (Ted)

This was followed by:

1996 Jaboulet Cornas (Me)

2000 La Bastide Saint Dominique Chateauneuf-du-Pape “Secrets de Pignan” (Me)

2000 Penfold’s Grange (Paul)

After Dinner things deteriorated a little bit. We tasted:

2003 Zaca Mesa “Z Three” Santa Ynez Valley, California (Stacy)

2005 Mitolo GAM Shiraz McLaren Vale, Australia (Stacy)

2003 Tintara Reserve Shiraz McLaren Vale (Stacy)

At this point, these three undrinkable, heavy, alcoholic wines should have been saved for a more appropriate occasion. To strip paint from a house for example. Overkill and unnecessary after the fine wines of earlier.

For Dessert we drank the following two:

2001 Chateau Pierre Bise Coteaux du Layon Beaulieu “Papin-Chevalier” (Me)
(Oops, how did this make it into a Rhone tasting?!?)

2003 Chapoutier Banyuls (Stacy)

After the meal we lost a few good men, including Paul, Joe and Vincent. Joe actually fell asleep halfway through the dinner! The food, of course was incredible (this generally happens when Vincent is cooking). The wines (for the most part) fantastic though see Part II for the tasting notes.

As I am blogging about this dinner nearly a month after it occurred the details regarding conversation are a bit fuzzy, though I did note that Ted vociferously exclaimed he wanted blind tastings more than once. I think he actually may have told me to write this down.

Oh, I forgot to add that halfway into the Grange we decided to call Michael (Toby, Andrew, and Ted’s cellar landlord) whose single greatest wine experience resulted from a bottle of Grange. Though he doesn’t live far, poor Michael made two trips back and forth from his house to my neighborhood due to nighttime road construction on the street leading to my house and our obvious inability to give proper directions after 10 bottles of wine. He has no cell phone so when he couldn’t find it the first time, had to go home, call us back, then make the trip again, the second time successfully. I think he was happy that we got him out of bed for a glass of Grange?

What in God's Name is Crasse de Fer?

When I tell people that I blog about wine, most of them want to know how they can find it. I tell them the name of the site. This is always followed by a “what?” I then say it again. I am then asked to explain what this means. Certainly, this is a fair question. Many of the (few) readers I have are trying to convince me to change the name. Most likely good counsel.

Why don’t I let Jancis do the talking:

"Pomerol's finest wines are in general made on the higher parts of the plateau, which is predominately gravel whose layers are interleaved with clay, becoming sandier in the west, where rather lighter wines are made. The subsoil here is distinguished by a local iron rich clay, the so called crasse de fer, of which Chateau Pétrus has a stratum particularly close to the surface."


-from Jancis Robinson's Oxford Companion to Wine

And an excerpt from the page on Chateau Lafleur at greatbordeauxwines.com:

"Subsoil here and many other places in Pomerol has a very interesting and distinctive composition, and is only to be found in Pomerol and therefore not widely known. It consists of the so-called "crasse de fer" and clay. "Crasse de fer" is iron dirt or more precisely a kind of very firm and stony blend of earth and metal with high content of iron-oxide, which gives the wines a very characteristic flavour of something fat and metallic, which many associate with truffles."

And from Frank Ward's Oeno File:

"The soil of Cheval Blanc, which is on the very border with Pomerol, is a mixture of clay, gravel, sand, and crasse de fer - rotting iron ore. The latter can impart truffly aromas and flavours."

From the Bordeaux Wine Site:

"Soil in Pomerol is a unique, outstanding geological phenomenon. The topsoil is made up of gravel that varies in compactness, with layers of clay and sand. The subsoil includes iron oxide, locally called "crasse de fer". This soil, combined with a special micro-climate, accounts for Pomerol's absolutely inimitable personality."

The Birth of a Career-or-How I Got Into the Wine Biz

People often ask me how I got into wine. I find it quite difficult to come up with a concrete answer to this question. There was no one magic bottle that did it for me. I have long been drawn to it. I admire the culture of wine drinking societies. I am intrigued by wine's fickle nature. I am easily bored by routine. Wine rarely bores. Each vintage, each successive tasting of a single vintage of the same wine produces different results on the palate. Change is inevitable. A wine evolves. New wines emerge. There exists a nearly infinite number of wines to discover and taste.

I think I’ve mentioned this in a previous post, but I am a whore for experience. I chase new sensations, flavors, smells, textures. Wine offers a variety of a magnitude that will keep me from the ennui of many other professions.

My first love was literature. It remains so. Wine is my mistress. For the moment she has superceded literature, who has taken a rather distant back seat to the infatuation with this seductive beverage.

While studying Comparative Literature at the University of Virginia I applied for a job as a waiter in a restaurant/wine bar/wine shop. My courtship of wine began much earlier than this however. I spent my childhood years in France surrounded by people who loved to eat and drink well (my father worked in a restaurant in Geneva). I remember people showing up for dinners at our house with bottles in hand and I recall being intrigued by the discussion around these wines.

After high school I worked for a while as an apprentice to the pastry chef in the only “fine dining” restaurant in my town (there was no wine shop there until about four years ago). As an employee I was able to buy wine at cost (and underage) and began trying wines here and there as money allowed.

When I departed for Hampshire College in Amherst, Mass my periodical subscriptions included Food and Wine, Gourmet, and Bon Appetit. For a while I thought I would go to culinary school for Pastry Arts. But literature continued to entrance and the idea of writing the next Great American Novel tempted me.

The financial burden of a Northeastern American private college led me back to Virginia and enrollment at UVa. I began reading wine writing in earnest then. I conducted research on the internet. I bought Parker’s Bordeaux book. Some nights I didn’t sleep in order to compare the prices of certain fine wines on Wine-Searcher.com.

Once it began, it became harder to repress. I fell hard. I couldn’t concentrate on Orlando Furioso. I thought about names with which I felt some mystical affinity: Gruaud Larose, Calon-Ségur, Giscours. On my 21st birthday (October 26, 2005) I walked from La Maison Française on the UVa campus (where I was currently living) to the downtown mall. Once there, I entered Tastings Restaurant/Wine Bar/Wine Shop and ordered a half glass of T. Solomon Wellborn Pinot Noir. The bartender asked me how I liked it. I responded with something to this effect: Very much, it has a nice fruit character and is quite soft. I surprised myself. I guess reading so many wine descriptions in Parker’s book had programmed into me the basic way to describe what I tasted.

I then inquired whether they might be hiring. In fact, yes they needed a server. I filled out the application while sipping. About a week later I commenced my tenure there. I stopped going to classes in order to pick up shifts. Bill, the curmudgeonly proprietor, is extremely knowledgeable about the subject and I picked his brain at every opportunity. I learned quickly. My appetite was so great for knowledge and experience that I began tasting as sales reps came in with their samples. Eventually I took over as bar manager and then front of house manager. Meanwhile, I was tasting anywhere from 30 to 80 wines a week.

The naive devotion and admiration I felt towards Bill gradually dwindled as I became more comfortable with the wine industry and my own knowledge increased. I realized that under his tutelage I was learning a great deal, but also basing my likes and dislikes according to his palate. He detested New World wines, adored Burgundy, and dismissed many interesting wines because of these prejudices. My palate became so calibrated to his that one day I decided that I needed to be able to decide for myself whether or not a wine was good without deferring to him.

I left Tastings shortly thereafter. A few month later I landed the job with Dionysos.

The Petrus I Never Had

This post may contain some shocking material and may not be suitable for the faint at heart wine lover. Please refrain from clenching your hands into fists and smashing them on your keyboard as you read this. Yes, injustice does run rampant in this world, and yes, it extends to wine as well.

Injustice number one: I have yet to taste a Latour, Margaux, Cheval Blanc, Ausone, or Pétrus despite my goal of tasting all the first growths by year’s end. I suppose I still have time…

Injustice number two: Wine is sensitive, “alive,” as Stacy loves to remind me in the midst of my note taking, deriding my “over analyzation” of this breathing beverage. As all living things, wine has certain basic needs. It needs love and attention for example. It needs shelter. It needs protection from the elements. It does not enjoy extremes of heat or cold. Neither does it enjoy vibrations. It does not travel particularly well and when forced to make a trip requires time to get over its jet lag. If you think I am kidding, buy a mid nineties vintage of 1er Cru burgundy while in France, pack it carefully in your suitcase, and bring it back to the United States on your trans-atlantic checked baggage. Proceed to open it up the moment you arrive home. Most likely it will not even resemble the wine from before your flight. What was I getting at? Oh yes, injustice number two: letting good wine (and in this case, great wine) go bad because of carelessness and/or insensitivity to its needs.

Let us examine Exhibit A: The widow of a fairly prominent American businessman decides to sell her house. The basement contains her husband’s (now deceased four years) walk-in cedar wine closet. It had been cooled by a Whisper Kool device or something like it. In the intervening period between his death and her decision to sell the house this device broke and only generated warm air. When we arrived on the scene the temperature was about 85 degrees Fahrenheit, which is suitable only for wine destined to become Madeira, NOT collectible Bordeaux and Burgundy.

The Rieslings were weeping as we made our way into the room. Slowly their tears accumulated at the lips of bottles and silently dripped onto the carpeted floor. I nearly cried as well, seeing these poor bottles so neglected. Insanity! The 1967 Pétrus (eleven bottles of this lousy vintage) bled, the pool of blood collecting on the ground below. It was obvious these wines were unhappy and calling desperately for help.

And a vertical of Latour, 1921, 1923, and 1945. 1945!!! Probably cooked. Why god, why?!?

But what could we do? Would you buy a wine on its deathbed, even if it said 1964 La Mission Haut Brion? It is hard to justify really. On one hand, the bottles represent trophies for the neophyte collector. Even if the wine is no longer wine but unpalatable liquid, the label excites and entrances nearly enough to merit a cash exchange. Rationally however, one must come to the realization that a bottle is nearly worthless and the money could be better spent on a living wine that would afford a pleasant imbibing experience. The problem with wine geeks like us is this: we want the experience, awful or amazing, of opening wines we usually can only read about because of limited funds. Thus, we were tempted by the treasure, most likely confederate currency, in the widow’s basement.

We made her an offer of a rather low sum, to which she responded that someone else would be coming to look at the cellar as well. He offered more. We lost out.

Or did we? I called back later to ascertain the status of the wine. Sold? Thrown out? Still there in the wine cellar-cum-sauna yearning for cooler air?

She has yet to be rid of her late husband’s wine collection. I bargained. Perhaps, if we could taste some of the wine…it would help us determine whether it has worth beyond the value of the pretty labels on the bottles…one or two…it couldn’t hurt. She agreed.

And then reneged. The wine is to sell with the house. Otherwise this post would have included tasting notes for 1964 DRC Echezeaux and 1967 Pétrus, the two wines we had earlier decided would be appropriate as she had multiple bottles of them. Despite 1967 being a “terrible” vintage, I was eager to try it. I mean, come on, it’s Pétrus.

Alas, I am still a Pétrus shy of achieving my first growth goal.

Ringing in the Work Week in Style: Dinner at Fleurie 08.20.07

We approached nearly fin de siècle decadence with this Monday night dinner at one of Charlottesville’s most respected dining establishments. There was no specific occasion for the gathering, other than a goodwill gesture to the proprietors for their continued support and a rather boring weekend that inspired in me some need for communion with other human beings. It has also been a vapid couple of weeks in the wine business, August being the quietest month of the year. I needed something uplifting to put me in a better mood…

We totaled six and included: Toby and Andrew (usually featured in the Thursdays in the Cellar posts), Tom (a personal chef and dear friend), Stacy (infamous, ubiquitous, Stacy) and her friend, now our friend, Jessica.

The evening began with a bottle of Pol Roger 1998 Rosé. My second time drinking this wine, it was its usual, delectable self. Pale orange color with a salmon tint. Evolved nose with a significantly yeasty quality about it along with a shocking, but not necessarily off-putting, hint of hairspray. Shocking because my previous experience with this wine (about a year ago) did not betray such volatility. Wild strawberry aromas in the mouth with a nice sense of sweetness leading into the mid-palate. Candied citrus and toast. Fine and delicate mousse. A full mid-weight Champagne with a finish of brown butter and orange rind. Persistent, with significant evolution in the mouth after the wine has been swallowed. Lovely.

Amuse Bouche: Salmon Rillete with Cauliflower Coulis.

Next up a flight of Chardonnays consisting of Staglin’s 2002 Estate Chardonnay (no malolactic fermentation, weighing in at 14.6% abv) and Morey-Coffinet’s 2004 Chassagne Montrachet “Les Houillières.”

The Staglin displayed a very toasted oak nose with some green apple and an underlying though subtle core of tropical fruit. In the mouth: very perfumed with a bit of buttered popcorn. Sweet attack and long through the finish. For not having undergone malolactic fermentation, it was surprisingly low in acidity. Full and viscous. Paired fantastically well with the shrimp risotto.

The Burgundy showed some weakness next to the Staglin, though I don’t suspect it would have fared better among its contemporaries in a more regionally focused tasting. Oak and lemon zest on the nose. Somewhat restrained at first – served much too cold. Pear, peach, and melon emerging after some time in the glass with a dash of pineapple deep in the nose. Creamy vanilla and lemon curd on the straightforward, linear palate. Lacking the acidity of the vintage. A bit thin and short with a hint of the compost bin about it. A good wine, but not worth the money it cost, neither on the wine list nor in a retail store. Considering the amount of great white burgundy out on the market right now, I’d give it a pass.

First COurse: (passed around the table in somewhat crass form) 1. Shrimp Risotto, 2. Scallop Tartare, and 3. Chilled Vegetable Salad on Brioche Toast Points.

The following flight consisted of two reds of polemically differing characters. They were: Domaine Maillard’s 2001 Corton Renardes and Chateau St. Jean’s 1998 Cabernet Sauvignon “Cinq Cépages” from Sonoma.

Maillard: Great color, showing no sings of age. Sweet, oak spice dominating the nose along with red cherry and a little barnyard. Incredibly fresh—almost primary—I could smell the acidity. Hints of violet mid nose, but very subtle, not overwhelmingly floral or vegetal for that matter. On the palate: oak very present but not intrusive with some iodine and a touch of heat. Huge acidity. Needs time. We probably should have decanted this wine, though it showed very well. I said give it ten years, to which everyone looked up at me in dismay. Stacy loved it and said drink now. I’d give it another three to five years without blinking. It is a lean wine with plenty of endurance. My only reservation is the level of oak and that touch of alcohol noticeable on the palate. I don’t think ten years is out of its capabilities. A matter of personal preference. If I had another bottle of this wine (which I don’t, I admit rather sadly) I would wait about seven years. Perhaps on the occasion of my 30th birthday? Maillard’s Corton Renardes happily ending the streak of disappointing Burgundies. Terrific.

St. Jean: Holding up, despite the “poor” vintage conditions that led many a critic to bash this year. Consequentially, I have picked up a few of California’s more iconic wines for relatively low prices and have enjoyed most of them. Vegetal nose of overcooked asparagus with some rich berry fruit aromas on the periphery. There is a richness here that indicates why this wine is so appreciated by many consumers, though something is obviously lacking. Rich, but not opulent. Like the shell of the wine it could be. Plush on the palate, but lacking balance with noticeable alcohol. Despite the heat, very nice. Smooth and soft. The texture is really quite captivating. Caramel on the finish. Really, a bit petulant, this wine. Quite likeable. A bit of menthol emerging: Wrigley’s Double Mint Gum. It definitely evolved throughout the night, though came to a screeching halt by the end of the dinner. Very endearing. If you see it on the sale rack of your local wine store for half its original price, it might be worth a try.

(I should mention the rather heated argument that began over the movie Sideways and Miles’s abhorrence of the Merlot grape. Stacy trying to convince all of us of the deep irony of his drinking a Cheval Blanc. Toby retorting that it was merely a surface irony, his quip about Merlot being more of an attack on oaky, alcoholic California Merlot. Myself maintaining that Cheval Blanc is more Cab Franc than Merlot (well, the vineyard anyway).)

For good measure, Stacy threw in one of her wines into the red lot: Oriel’s “Alma de Llicorella” 2002 Priorat. Oriel is a new line of wines brought out by an Irish entrepreneur with a love of fine wine. Basically, he uses one label for his various wines from different parts of the world. Thus, there is an Oriel Priorat, Bordeaux, Cali Zin, etc.
The Priorat showed notes of dried sour cranberry, cherry liqueur, and cedar. On the palate it was quite fresh with good acidity. I thought it a younger wine, 2004, actually. A bit primary at this point with some unripe banana cropping up. Full and heady, but extremely tight.

Entrées included: Andrew-lamb, Toby-Squab (with seared foie gras, by far the winner among the dishes), Jessica-Halibut, Stacy-Filet, Tom-Sweet Breads, Myself-Lobster (my first time ordering this in a restaurant, I did not much care for it).

In truth, the first course overshadowed the entrées, as did the wines. The chef also sent out a seared scallop as an intermezzo between the first course and entrées. It was perfectly cooked and delicious.

For dessert we consumed (or in my case inhaled) a half bottle of 1990 de Suduiraut (my third time with this wine and my second post about it) and a 500 ml of 2000 Royal Tokaji Aszú 5 Puttonyos (Stacy’s pick). We drank these with the parfait of foie gras as an accompaniment. The Sauternes and the dish marrying so well I nearly cried.

The Suduiraut showed extremely well, very similar to my previous experience with it only a couple of months prior. Incredible botrytised nose. I could have inhaled the scent all night. Peaches, cooked apricots, honey, and orange blossom. Sweet, fat, and viscous. Seemed low in acidity compared to the Tokaji, but it was there, holding things together. Highly recommended. If you have a sweet tooth, you will not be disappointed.

The Tokaji: much lighter in color with a nose that reminded me of apricot baby food. Very soft, restrained nose. Incredible acidity. Lacked the viscosity of the Suduiraut, though this is an unfair comparison. Smoky. Very young. Botrytis emerging after some aeration as well as a dominant scent of golden raisins. Overwhelmed by the Suduiraut, but this was still a delicious drink.

Breaking News: Passing With Distinction

On May 29, 2007 I sat for the WSET (Wine and Spirit Education Trust) Level 3 Advanced Certificate in Wines and Spirits through the Washington Wine Academy in Washington DC. As I live two hours south of there I was unable to attend the classes taught by Jay Yeomans, MW. I felt at a disadvantage, for when I was able to attend a couple of the sessions I found them extremely advantageous and educational. For some reason, having someone with confidence and experience explaining a topic such as the hierarchy of German wine classification, makes it easier to comprehend than the book containing exactly the same information.

The WSET program of certification is well known in Britain, but hardly known in the USA. It is often considered a prerequisite for the Master of Wine program. The curriculum therefore, has a significantly Anglocentric slant, with chapters devoted to the wines of the UK and Eastern Europe (Cabernet Sauvignon from Bulgaria represented the largest import of that varietal for the United Kingdom in the mid 1990s), despite their negligible presence on the American market.

I learned of the WSET program through reading Neal Martin's Wine Journal before this fine (as it continues to be) internet publication was absorbed by the Parker Monarchy of Wine Criticism. I wanted to do what Neal Martin was doing, namely tasting and writing about fine wines, so I followed his lead and enrolled in the course.

After fifteen weeks of waiting for the results to arrive, I've discovered that I have passed in the top percentile of my class, earning distinction in both the theory and the tasting components of the test.

Phew!

Next will be the WSET Diploma Program, a two year, extremely intensive and rigorous study of the wine trade. This is the final prerequisite to complete before applying to the MW program.

My Current Metier and What It Involves

I suppose I have been rather reticent and somewhat obscure regarding my job description up to this point. I shall expand upon “what it is I do” for those of you out there who (I’m sure) are dying to know.

Here is a typical exchange in many social situations when I am surrounded by strangers and must make small talk:

Stranger: So, what do you do?
Me: I sell wine.
Stranger: Like, at a restaurant or wine shop or something?
Me: No. I work for an Importer/Wholesaler/Distributor.

At which point the conversation usually branches off into one of several possible directions including:

So, can you get me wine on the cheap?
OR
Do you sell two buck chuck? I love that stuff! You know it is the best Chardonnay in America, right?


Or else people proceed to tell me everything they know about wine, including the wine they use to drink in the 1970s, and do you think you could get me some? I don’t really understand this response. I mean, if you told me you were a podiatrist I wouldn’t try to tell you everything I know about feet.

Actually, most people are usually curious and ask more legitimate questions and I give them the rundown:

I work for a Company called Dionysos Imports (yes, that’s the Greek god of Wine and Revelry). We started as a Greek Wine importing company in 1991. Luckily, my boss soon realized that he wouldn’t be able to make much of a living in Greek wines alone and got into France and soon expanded to most of the other main wine producing regions in Europe and the new world. We definitely have a European focus. Our strong points lie in France, Greece, and Portugal. We work mostly with small, family owned wineries. Most everything is of artisan quality and by default is small production.

I basically go “door to door” to different restaurants and retail stores with select samples and taste the wine buyers at each establishment on these various wines. If they like one or think they can sell one, they buy it. Sometimes it’s as few as three bottles and sometimes as much as 40 cases. I make more money if I sell 40 cases.

That’s it. Pretty easy, actually. Kind of boring sometimes too…

A Going Away Dinner for Marita with Pibarnon Rose

Chez Ed and Vicky, on the occasion of Marita leaving for Temple Law School

A particularly fine dinner with my parents, siblings, and Marita. Nothing forced. Not trying. My father on his best behavior, despite the amount of wine…

We started with Maison Ambroise’s Crémant de Bourgogne. A treat for various reasons, one being that sparkling wine from Burgundy is a rarity in this market, and also because I am quite a fan of this producer. One of the best Burgundies I’ve had so far in my career was Ambroise’s 1997 (I know, a purportedly mediocre vintage) Corton Le Rognet. His Crémant had an assertive, biscuity nose; firm, but not overly aggressive mousse. Fresh and full. Lacking a bit of complexity, the finish muted. A nice sparkler though. Quite complementary to Vicky’s eggplant “caviar.”

My father had been keen to make a shrimp curry for some time and was pleased to finally have an audience for this dish with Marita and, to a lesser extent, myself. He pulled it off rather well for a Cuban. With this dish we rather heartily consumed Chateau de Pibarnon’s 2006 Bandol Rosé. Pale salmon pink with a tinge of orange. Notes of white peach and cranberry on the nose with hints of strawberry and some white pepper. A very finely balanced palate displaying stone fruits, mainly nectarines and a wisp of bosc pear. Showing great typicity. Extremely classy and refined, the Jackie O of rosés. Frankly, too subtle for the curry dish, but a pleasure to drink nonetheless.

We finished up the evening in the usual Mestre family fashion with a platter of cheeses. Along with this I served the 1995 Chateau Simard from Saint Emilion. Always a curious wine, and usually a little underwhelming, it nevertheless proved quite satisfactory and appropriate with the cheese. A sweet, lactic nose showing its age. Cheese rind, menthol, and a whiff of nuttiness. A bit leafy with a hint of alcohol coming through. On the palate, a medium weight wine with fairly solid balance and decent structure. Firm acidity and mouth drying, nearly resolved tannins. Red cherry pie filling and some wet earth, finishing with a touch of bitterness. Capable of lasting another five years, though I don’t see much chance it will greatly improve. As it was given to me I have no complaints however.

Thursdays in the Cellar: Dominus Dinner Part 2

We commenced with the pleasant Chardonnay based Champagne from Agrapart et Fils “Les 7 Crus,” that is, made from grapes of all seven of his rated vineyard sites, many of them being of Grand Cru status. Toby informed us that this producer still uses an ox to pull his cart through the vineyards during the harvest, eschewing any mechanization at all. A pale yellow color with a fairly explosive attack with some sweetness noted. A sense of yellow apples and a present minerality. Good acidity. Settling down, not an aggressive mousse, but fine. Yeasty. Nice foil to the pecorino on the grilled nectarine.

Next up Andrew served us a salad of bitter greens along with Régis Cruchet’s 1994 Vouvray Sec. Deep, golden color. Initially, a very musty smell typical of old Chenin, but blowing off with some aeration. The acidity quite present on the nose. Not a great sense of fruit, but many tertiary aromas shyly coming forward including a very intriguing sense of almond paste. On the palate: huge acidity with the almond paste bringing up the rear. Timid attack followed by a firm mid-palate and long finish. A bit vegetal and a hint of alcohol coming through on the nose, along with some vanilla extract. An interesting wine, but probably should have been drunk a few years ago.

The next wine represented my contribution to the dinner, Vincent and François Jouard’s 2004 Chassagne Montrachet 1er Cru Les Chaumées. Very tight and needing some time to shed its cloak of oak, this wine nevertheless performed extremely well showing an intense minerality and a hint of buttered popcorn. Sweet, oaky attack with vanilla creaminess dominating. Full bodied, rich, and well-balanced with firm acidity. Floral notes coming through after some aeration (honeysuckle) and a slightly medicinal aspect. Oak very prominent, and dominating the subtler aromas. Needs time. Let’s just hope the oak doesn’t take over but integrates. I’d give it another two to three years (?).

Because I don’t usually eat steak, I asked Sean, the chef over at Cassis to prepare for me a dinner to go. He cooked some delicious scallops that went perfectly with the burgundy. The richness of the wine and the scallops married together extremely well, while the acidity saved it from heaviness. The oak and slight citrus notes of the wines highlighted and were expanded by the scallops. Really delicious. Thanks Sean!

Then came a flight of two vintages of Dominus, the Cabernet Sauvignon lite 1994 (only 72%) and the more typical 1996 (82%). Toby decanted both of these wines about two and a half hours prior to service. After some confusion around the table, it was determined that the 1996 would be on the left and the 1994 on the right.

1996: Oaky, chocolatey nose. Very dense, rich, and surprisingly, a bit closed. A touch of alcohol noted, as well as sweet red cherries, and then more alcohol. On the palate: very full and generous, a bit monolithic, again dense. Some heat. Faint hint of unripe banana, leather, violets. Some tannin. Evolving with a bit of cranberry and an almost liqueur like cherry component. Again, the alcohol present. For me this wine is a bit incomplete and lacking the balance of the more harmonious and integrated 1994. Perhaps two more years in bottle will smooth out the rough edges, but I wouldn’t put my money on it. Overall, a very good wine, no doubt California wine fans will find it to their liking. I however, cannot get past the alcohol.

1994: More advanced. A bit of a milky quality and slightly vegetal with cedar and sweet spice on the nose. The palate shows better integration with very nice balance (though tenuous). A big wine, but carrying itself well. More subdued than its younger sibling. Milk chocolate and a lot of licorice, fennel, and a touch of menthol. A density not unlike the 1996, though seemingly more penetrable. Evolving, with notes of tobacco and leather. Seamless palate. Very, very nice. A bit more effeminate, which is to my liking. Bravo.

1999 Karlsmuhle Kaseler Nies’chen Riesling Auslese “Geiben”: A honeyed nose with notes of ripe apricots, white flowers, and a dash of petrol. Very well balanced, with attractive sweetness (not overly so) and strong supporting acidity. Full and rich. Delicious.

I’ll note here that the conversation took an interesting turn when Ted mentioned that he is unwilling to buy German wine as he feels it somewhat compromises his ethics. Evidently he maintains a picture in his head that an old Nazi grandpa comfortably wiles away his remaining days from the profits of a family owned winery. Cathy, usually quite outspoken in her views, felt she had something to say to this, especially being Jewish. She may have succeeded in disabusing Ted of maintaining his German wine boycott.

2003 Baumard Quarts de Chaume: Clearly something not quite right here. Tinny, canned asparagus aromas. Very sweet without much acidity, reflecting the vintage I suppose. Candied citrus emerging after some aeration, along with burnt sugar. A lactic quality about it. I can’t quite remember this, but I wrote: like a baked pie crust (indecipherable word) without a concluding part to the sentence. Eminently forgettable. Must try a good example of this wine as this was most likely cooked.

Thursdays in the Cellar: Dominus Dinner Part 1

I must apologize to those who have been awaiting this post. My internet service provider failed about four weeks ago and I had no time before leaving on my trip to France to fix it. Fortunately, everything is now in working order (though I did have to switch companies) and my trip proved fabulous. Look for upcoming posts regarding my time in Burgundy and Champagne in the near future...

This post continues the Thursdays in Cellar series that I hope becomes a regular event as it provides great material for Crasse de Fer and, of course, is quite enjoyable. The Cellar proprietors are Toby, Andrew, and Ted, all recognizable figures in Charlottesville’s burgeoning wine scene. They share space in a building on the mall and the collection includes bottles from each of their respective private collections as well as collectively owned bottles. I admire the concept greatly as it allows them to buy and try wines without the financial burden resting solely on one person. This appears to be especially appropriate as premium wine prices continue to soar (along with the Euro).

On this particular Thursday we made use of a mutual friend’s home as our rendez-vous destination since dinner in the cellar itself did not seem entirely appropriate or feasible. At about 4;30 PM I received a phone call from Stacy who told me that the previously discussed Dominus Dinner would be taking place that evening. I promptly called Andrew in order to secure a reservation (and yes, by that I do mean I invited myself). By 7:00 PM most of us were gathered together under one roof. We numbered seven (how lucky) and included: Toby and his date Cathy, Andrew, Ted and his wife Bonnie, Stacy, and Myself.

Altogether we consumed four courses of food, diligently and thoughtfully prepared by Andrew, and enjoyed (mostly) seven wines. They were:

1. NV Champagne Agrapart et Fils “Les 7 Crus” Blanc de Blancs (with grilled nectarines topped with prosciutto and pecorino).
2. 1994 Régis Cruchet Vouvray Sec (with an arugula salad – I’ve failed to note the accoutrements of this dish, my apologies)
3. 2004 V & F Jouard Chassagne Montrachet 1er Cru Les Chaumées “Clos de la Truffière” Vieilles Vignes (sadly, alone)
4. 1996 Dominus
5. 1994 Dominus (with its younger sibling in a flight accompanied by grilled steak)
6. 1999 Karlsmuhle Kaseler Nies’chen Riesling Auslese “Geiben” (with a fruit tart)
7. 2003 Baumard Quarts de Chaume

See Part II for tasting notes…

2004 Pascal Cotat "La Grande Cote"

This wine posed quite an interesting challenge to my assumptions concerning wine "flaws..."

I have not had many wines from this producer, though he is one that is represented by my company. Both the Cotats (cousins Pascal and François) produce wines that are quite highly regarded among Sancerre aficionados.

Pascal generally harvests a week later than everyone else in Sancerre, achieving a higher degree of ripeness resulting in fuller bodied, more complex wines. He farms organically, hand harvests and presses, and ferments in old oak foudres. The wines are said to be incredibly long-lived, capable of lasting 30 years or more.

La Grande Cote represents one of Cotat's single vineyard bottlings, a concept that the Cotat family pioneered in this region. It is 100% Sauvignon Blanc, though I would have had a tough time determining this in a blind tasting.

I opened the bottle and the wine shot out as if I had just popped the cork on a bottle of unchilled Champagne. The notion that this was simply residual CO2 leftover from fermentation briefly crossed my mind...except for the fountain spraying all over the kitchen and my person indicated something more than this. I had heard that Pascal Cotat made singular wines, but this didn't seem quite right.

Had it undergone a secondary fermentation in bottle? Pascal neither fines nor filters, perhaps some remnants of yeast existed in the wine upon bottling? Certainly, by harvesting later and achieving fuller ripeness, he may have produced a wine with some residual sugar? This combined with some still living yeast may have married to form the perfect liqueur de tirage, et voila: sparkling wine.

But upon tasting it, I have to admit I was impressed. It provided quite a delicious tipple and paired perfectly with our lunch of salad and vegetarian cold cuts and Tur (Italian goat cheese) sandwiches. Full bodied, intense, and mousseux, with incredible acidity, a hint of sweetness and beautiful minerality. It could nearly have been a slightly deflated blanc des blancs from Cramant. Floral and honeyed, with just a hint of grapefruit on the palate giving it away as Sauvignon Blanc. I wish I had another bottle to hold for a few years, as I am curious to see what would happen.

A flawed wine? Perhaps. (I will go out on a limb here and assume that secondary fermentation in bottle is not what Pascal Cotat tried to achieve with this wine) A delicious wine? Most definitely.

Comments are warmly welcomed and encouraged, especially as I am quite perplexed about this wine...