Craig's Wine Notes

I was out for a walk yesterday, and stopped into a couple of local shops to see what they had on offer. One of them, West Side Wine, had, for $30, the 1990 Reichsgraf von Kesselstett Josephshofer Riesling Kabinett. Well, OK, I know zero about it, but it seemed worth taking a couple of minutes to try to google it. I couldn't find anything about the wine, but did get a couple of hints that it was a great vintage for their operation, so I figured, why not?

They had 2 bottles (that I saw; I think there may have been a third on the back of the shelf). Some of their wines are on racks in the middle of the floor lying down, but MANY, including all of the German wines, are standing up on shelves. And not just one standing for display with the rest lying down; all of the wines are upright. Nothing you haven't seen in dozens of shops, I'm sure, but the owner of this one has a book out that, from what I can tell, is largely about maximizing your wine-buying experience at retail. Giving the appearance of poor storage seems unacceptable in that context.

Well, now that I'm on my way to making my first enemy, let's move on to the wine. I had chosen the bottle that didn't have a depressed cork (which can be because the cork has dried out--and standing up will dry corks out, of course). Sure enough, the cork splintered when I tried to open it. I ended up pushing what was left of it in and using a French coffee press to deal with the rest of it. Fortunately, the wine itself seems fine--no signs of oxidation--but still.

Oh, how was it? Pretty tasty. Buttered popcorn, pineapple and grapefruit on the nose; a lot of grapefruit and minerals on the palate, although marred slightly by a little bitterness. And quite a lot of acidity, which I always like in whites. Recommended, especially at the price.

# posted by Craig Ganzer @ 8:03 PM 0 comments

On the left side of the screen there's a little box that allows you to sign up to receive new posts by mail. It's free, and they don't sell your email address. I subscribe to a couple of other blogs through it, and have *never* gotten any spam that was tied to it. I don't get anything out of it (except, I hope, increased readership!); it's just a convenience if you want my posts delivered, instead of having to stop by.

Well, it's a very special time in a young blogger's life--I got my first note from someone who I don't know. It's quite exciting to know that someone (I hope more than just one person!) has read this. I'm going to try to keep this updated fairly regularly; for now, I think on a Monday-Wednesday-Friday schedule.

A little about me: In spite of how it looks from these reports, the vast majority of my drinking is $15 wine. I almost never open something more expensive than that randomly. I do try to go to tastings when I can (more about one of those later today), and I am a huge fan of higher-end BYOBs.

I'm not a full-time professional, but I have a lot of experience tasting, and in buying at auction. I've done a bit of consulting in that area, and I've organized a couple of tastings, including the Greenwich event I wrote about here. Anyone wanting advice on how to get events like these going is welcome to contact me.

Should I ever recommend anything in these pages, it's just because I think it's worthwhile; I (alas!) derive no financial benefits from any of it.

# posted by Craig Ganzer @ 7:42 AM 0 comments

Dinner kicked off with 2 wines that I owned a lot of at one point, the 1992 and 2000 Chapoutier Ermitage Blanc, de l'Oree. Having these two made me wish I hadn't sold all of mine! Next up was the 1995 Coche-Dury Corton-Charlemagne. They're some of the most expensive white Burgundies you'll find, and this was my first time trying it. I was unimpressed--sure, it's really thick-textured, but where's the fruit? I didn't like it nearly as much as the Dauvissaut, and it's many times the price.

Some red Burgundy came next, the 1980 Ponsot Clos de la Roche and 1966 Ligeret Chambertin. The Ponsot is a legendary wine, and was terrific, concentrated but not showing too much of the over-ripeness of other vintages. The Chambertin was also showing very well, and I preferred it slightly to the Ponsot (a minority view)--fantastic complexity, but pretty light-bodied.

The next wine up was the 1965 Inglenook Cabernet Sauvignon, and like the Ardanza, is one that I'd love to throw into a tasting of mature Bordeaux. They really knew how to make 'em in those days. After that came the only two Italians of the day, both by Gaja: 1982 Barbaresco Sori Tilden and 1985 Barbaresco Costa Russi. Totally different wines; the Costa Russi was open, fruit-forward, and after an hour or so in the glass really started to decline, while the Sori Tilden was bigger, more tannic, seemingly younger.

I was starting to hit the wall at this point, as was everyone else, but the 1947 Chateau l'Evangile brought me back to life. This may be the best wine I've ever had. Incredible scents of earth, truffles, fruit, and plenty of other things that I couldn't quite identify. If I'd been told it was the '75, I might have believed it; it was still that concentrated, the kind of wine that makes you tune out everything around you.

A few other things were still to come. The 1974 Ramonet Batard-Montrachet was a surprise; from what I recall it was not quite as good as the Prieur from early in the day, but still with plenty of life left. The 1961 Faiveley Chambertin, Clos de Beze was great too, probably nearing the end of its useful life (light-bodied, like the Ligeret), but really good aromatics. The 1974 Mayacamas was solid, but I expected more; and finally, the 1990 Foreau Vouvray Goutte d'Or, a total freak of a wine--dark amber in color, more sugar than a Cinnabon, thicker than motor oil--it's pretty amazing stuff, but you can't drink more than about an ounce of it (why they bottled it in 750s, I can't imagine).

There were still a few bottles on the shelf at that point, as well as dessert, but everyone had pretty much hit the wall, and there was a unanimous vote for calling it a night. Which was all for the best; the wines left out deserve better than to be opened after we'd taken down almost 3 bottles each. It was an incredible day, and I can't thank everyone enough for their incredible generosity.

# posted by Craig Ganzer @ 10:08 AM 0 comments

In February I was invited to a 50th birthday party, featuring an incredible lineup of wines. I came across the list when I was unpacking in my new apartment, so here it is with what I can remember about them. The title of the post? Well, 24 bottles were split 9 ways--over 10 hours, but even so, it was a lot to take down (and a few bottles were left on the shelf after everyone could not go on!).

Also, a huge thank you to our host, who prepared an incredible meal despite the handicaps of vast quantities of alcohol and losing running water about halfway through.

I arrived to find open 2 things that would probably qualify as curiousities, but turned out to be great--the 1972 Prieur Chevalier-Montrachet, which had a lot of lemon in it, a really nice, thick texture, and good, fresh acidity. The other was the 1971 Launois Pere et Fils blanc de blancs, which didn't have too many bubbles left; it had a real caramel character, which is one of my favorite flavors.

Next up was a bottle of 1962 Lafite. My first experience with old Lafite, and I could really see what people mean when they talk about cedar and "lead pencil" in these things. Following that was the 1979 Giscours, yet another one that makes me think a lot of Bordeaux from 1978 and 1979 is cheap for what you get (I've had some really good ones that you can find for $50 a bottle or even less--pretty compelling compared to what you get when you walk into a wine store and see what's on offer from new vintages at that price).

Moving back into whites, we had a tie for the world's smallest horizontal (2 bottles): 1996 Dauvissat Les Clos and Les Preuses. The Preuses was a little oxidized (possibly from what the cork had been treated with to sterilize it--apparently, a reasonably common issue in mid-90s Burgundy), but the Clos was terrific--thick, minerally, citrusy, just great. After that was the 1959 Vina Ardanza Reserva Especial, which was terrific--fresh, complex, yummy leather and earth notes--this would be a great "ringer" in a tasting of older Bordeaux. Next up was one served to us blind. Old syrah was the most common guess--pretty dark color, some gaminess, that kind of thing. No, it was the 1976 Joseph Swan Pinot Noir.

3 more were on tap before we sat down for dinner (and how's THAT for a cocktail hour?). First, the great 1990 Latour, a wine I've been lucky enough to have a number of times. It hasn't disappointed me yet. Third of the group was the 1978 Gray Hermitage l'Ermite, very solid, but outclassed by the other two in this group. I can't find a thing about this on the web--if anyone reading this knows anything about the producer (negociant? someone who owned a bit of the vineyard?), I'd love to hear about it. The second one poured the 1988 Guigal Cote Rotie, La Turque, and it was amazing--I'd say it left me speechless, except that I immediately called a friend who is crazy about these wines to say that I finally "got it." Without question this is one of the greatest wines I've ever had.

Coming up next: Part II--Dinner!

# posted by Craig Ganzer @ 8:17 AM 0 comments

On Friday, May 12, I led a group through a dinner featuring some of the great wines of California and France of the past 30 years. Many, many thanks to the hosts for supplying such great wines and arranging a fabulous meal to go with them.

Here's a recap of my impressions of the wines from last Friday.

Flight One:

We started with the 1978 Jordan Alexander Valley Cabernet. A little bit of "bottle stink" when it was opened blew off quickly (fortunately, before anyone got a glass in their hand), leaving a moderately scaled wine with decent fruit remaining, but very little tannin--"smooth" was an adjective heard a few times. Most of the group ranked this second, behind the 1978 Leoville-Las Cases, which was showing more minerals and earth, and reasonable structure. I quite liked the 1978 Diamond Creek Red Rock Terrace, but it had a bit too much tannin relative to the fruit, and most of the group ranked this last. I thought the Las Cases was the best of the three, and would give a slight edge to the Diamond Creek over the Jordan, although I can see why that's a minority view.

Flight Two:

An interesting group, not at all what I expected. The 1985 Sterling was pretty mature, and a little outclassed by the other two. The 1985 Margaux started out beautifully, not a huge wine, but very complex and elegant; it didn't seem to go anywhere in the glass, though, which surprised me. The real surprise for me here was the 1985 B.R. Cohn Olive Hill. I had no idea what to expect of this, but what we got was a real Helen Turley wine--high alcohol, a little residual sugar (which turned a couple of tasters off), much more concentrated than the other two, with its age showing in its complexity, but not in a loss of fruit like the Sterling or the 1978 wines. For me, this was one of the highlights of the night, but I can certainly understand the reactions of those who didn't love it (and, really, who is Helen Turley to say that thousands of years of winemaking have been wrong?).

Flight Three:

I liked the 1996 Mondavi Reserve better than the 1997 Opus One, but this was a distinct minority view. The fruit was certainly more forward, and I thought the Opus was a bit overoaked. The majority of the group thought that the Mondavi was a little boring, I think, and preferred the more traditional style that the Opus was made in.

Flight Four:

For most, perhaps all, of the group, this was the highlight of the night. I agree with that, although my single favorite wine was the Montrose from the next flight. This was also interesting as a personality test. Some people liked the 1995 Joseph Phelps Insignia and 1993 Peter Michael Les Pavots; others (including me) gave the edge to the 1997 Pahlmeyer Red and the 1989 Lynch-Bages. No one (at least, no one who spoke up) grouped them any other way. The Insignia and Peter Michael were different, with the Insignia showing a little more California, the Peter Michael a little more French-style oak (in a more attractive way to me than the Opus), but both were much smaller in scale than the other two. The Pahlmeyer Red hit some of the same notes as the B.R. Cohn, but was both more concentrated and more complex, a remarkable achievement; there was plenty of tannin, but so much fruit that it came across as perfectly balanced despite its concentration. The Lynch-Bages was very good, but the tannin was a little less well integrated into the whole, making it less appealing overall.

Flight Five:

The 1991 Dominus ran third in this group; it was less intense than I would have thought, and compared to the 1993 Dalla Valle Maya, less elegant as well. The Maya was outstanding--reasonably powerful, perhaps more so than we might have realized with the 1990 Montrose next to it, but also extremely elegant and balanced. (I know, I just used that adjective twice, but it's the best one I can find for it.) The 1990 Montrose, as expected, was freakishly concentrated, and this bottle didn't show too much of the horsiness that can characterize Montrose in general and this wine in particular. It lived up to its reputation as a wine like almost no other ever made in Bordeaux. For me, this was the wine of the night.

Flight Six:

The 1963 Croft was showing very well; fully mature, but plenty of punch left to it, and it wasn't showing alcoholic heat at all. And, of course, the 1986 Yquem was great, very rich, good tropical fruit flavors, and enough acidity to balance out the sugar.

My overall ranking:

1) 1990 Montrose
2) 1997 Pahlmeyer
3) 1986 Yquem
4) 1985 B. R. Cohn
5) 1963 Croft

# posted by Craig Ganzer @ 5:29 PM 2 comments

14 winos gathered at Gramercy Tavern for lunch on Friday, to taste vintages of La Mission Haut Brion back to 1961. I was really excited going in--Haut-Brion is my favorite of the first growths, and I've liked all the La Missions I've tried; most of these vintages were new to me and I am pleased to say that after weeks of anticipation they really delivered. Almost all the wines showed really well, and you could taste the consistency in the flavors from year to year. Most showed the classic Graves profile of tobacco, leather, and what our host described as "brick dust." The wines:

We started off with the 1994 Laville-Haut-Brion, the white wine of La Mission. Sadly, it was pretty oxidized, as apparently was the 1984 which someone had brought--he wouldn't even let people taste it, for our own good. Ah, well. The first red flight was 1978, 1981, 1982 and 1983. The '83 was very tired, a disappointment after a bottle I tried a year ago which was a real sleeper. This one didn't have much life left to it. The '81 was quite a lot better, not a huge wine like some of the others, but still with plenty left in it. The '82 was a disappointment to me also; I'd had it before with better results. This one didn't really have the concentration of some of the younger wines, nor the complexity that comes with aging them. Unlucky! The '78, though, was terrific, beautiful aromatics, quite concentrated, a little rough around the edges like many of these wines, but just great.

The next group was just sensational, even with one dud in it. The 1961 was amazing--fresh and rich for a wine that is about to hit its 45th birthday, but with all the great complexity in the nose and taste that comes with that age. More classic Cabernet aromas than in some of the other wines here, at least to me, but just great. I thought it was a hair behind the 1961 Haut-Brion from the previous week (and no, I don't drink like that every week, or even every year, things just happened to work out with 2 events back to back), as did one other guest at both; the other two who tried both bottles liked this slightly better. This was a little more concentrated, but a little rougher too. The 1964 was excellent too, lighter color, less concentration, but outstanding on its own terms, not just "pretty good for age 42." The 1970, I thought, was totally dead. It tasted to me like a big ol' glass of tannin and alcohol with no actual fruit in it. Finally, the 1975, which was my second favorite of the day (behind the 1961). It was more concentrated than the 1961, possibly even after accounting for the 14 years difference, but also quite a bit rougher. Maybe that is just the age difference showing. Also this is the one that made me a believer in the idea of the "brick dust" nose--when this was first poured for me it smelled like I'd just walked by a construction site. After a minute or two it revealed all the rest of those great Graves aromatics, with all that tar, leather and tobacco. Either way, those two were, to me, in a different class from everything else tasted.

After those we moved on to the younger wines. The 1988 was, I thought quite boring. It had reasonably concentrated fruit and good color, but was the only wine (apart from the 1970) that seemed not to have any of the traditional Graves flavors to it. A decent bottle of wine, but pretty one-dimensional. The 1989 scored very highly with the group, and indeed lived up to its great reputation. So young, though, as was the 1990. Finally, the last group contained the 2000 and 2002. The 2002 was reasonably good, although like the 1988, seemed to be something that would not develop all the complexity of the other wines. And the 2000, which was a beautiful super-dark purple and intensely concentrated, was so young that it was hard to tell anything--except that, if it ages well, it'll be incredible.

My personal rankings:

1) 1961
2) 1975
3) 1978
4) 1964

The group's collective ranking, with 4 points for a 1st place vote, 3 for 2nd, 2 for 3rd and 1 for 4th:

1961 40 pts.
1975 34 pts.
1989 21 pts.
1978 13 pts.
1982 9 pts.
1990 7 pts.
1964 3 pts.
1970 2 pts.
1981 1 pt.