Craig's Wine Notes

I've had dinner a few times recently with a major Burgundy collector, who generously raided his own cellar to provide some great wines.

We started proceedings the first night modestly with Bernkasteler Doctor Spatlese Dr. Thanisch 2005. This was really nice, especially at the prevailing price, very traditional. I also had a small taste of Chateauneuf du Pape Chateau Beaucastel 1999, which was also pretty good, although I would have preferred it a little lighter.


The first Burgundy white was Chablis Montee de Tonnerre Raveneau 2004. Later in the evening, a bottle of Raveneau's Chapelot 2004 appeared to make up a mini-horizontal. I preferred the Montee de Tonnerre for its better minerality and focus; the Chapelot showed a lot more oak and side by side, it came across as a clumsier wine.


The first red was Chambertin Clos de Beze Prieure-Roch 2000, the first wine I'd ever had from this producer. It was lovely when it was first opened but within minutes started to lose its balance, with the oak and tannin completely taking over. The subsequent bottle of La Tache 1996 more than made up for it, showing a lot of earth and spice, red fruits, very rich and forward. A second (!) bottle of the same, brought as a backup and almost inevitably opened, was even better, very similar but with a little extra purity to the flavors and structure.


For comparison, we opened a fully mature, beautiful bottle of Clos de la Roche Domaine Dujac 1993. This is not in decline by any means, but with secondary flavors coming out and perfect balance, it's in a terrific spot right now. Totally classic expression of the terroir and a great wine caught at a great moment.


The evening wrapped up with a bottle of Quinta do Noval Nacional 1991. I'd had this port several times before, and it's always excellent (although it's never struck me as extraordinary). Figs, caramel, incredibly smooth; I'm sure it'll last and improve, but it's perfectly approachable, as it has been since the first time I had it about 5 years ago.


I wrapped up with something new to me, Grand Marnier 150. Not, as I'm told it's widely believed, a 150-year-old spirit, rather this is a blend of very old stocks the house has released. Quite orangey, but incredibly smooth. I'd never had Grand Marnier except in sauces, so I don't have a sense of the difference in quality between this and the regular bottling.


Meal #2 started with a single blind tasting. The wines, known to us in advance to be 3 Bonnes Mares from 1999 (Roumier, Baron de Charriere and Vincent Girardin) and Chambertin Clos de Beze Prieure-Roche 2002, were wrapped in foil and served in a flight of four.

The first wine had a nice smoky nose; on the palate there were some red fruits, decent complexity, but was a little tough; the tannins shortened the finish, but weren't drying. The second had darker fruit, purer flavors, medium body; it was very nice, although I didn't think it was outstanding. The third was just plain poor, with nothing but oak on either the nose or the palate. I had the sense that if I'd been asked to close my eyes and a glass of this were put in front of me, I'd have thought it white Burgundy; it had that sort of oak signature, rather than an impression of heavy oak tannins. The last in the group had a nose reminiscent of orange zest, with more of that on the palate, as well as a decent bit of tannin. It was OK, but not better.

I ranked wine #1 1st for current drinking, although thought the 2nd was probably superior overall, just unready. They were, in order:

1) Bonnes Mares Baron de Charriere 1999
2) Bonnes Mares Georges Roumier 1999
3) Bonnes Mares Vincent Girardin 1999
4) Chambertin-Clos de Beze Prieure-Roch 2002

The Roumier was better, especially for the long haul, but not enough to justify the price difference with the Charriere.

This evening continued with our only Bordeaux of the series, Rausan-Segla 1986 and Angelus 2000. I really liked the Rausan-Segla, as I have every time I've had it; it's intense, full of earth, black fruits, some smoke, a great structure to carry it, but not a sense of heaviness. A great wine. I can't say the same for the Angelus, and while it's unfair to pair a mature Bordeaux with such a young one, I thought it was overextracted and showed a very heavy-handed oak treatment. While we happily drained the Rausan-Segla, no one had more than a few sips of the Angelus, and no one went for a refill. Even over a period of hours, this did not show any elegance at all.

Alas, our other red this night, Richebourg Meo-Camuzet 1993, also showed the same injudicious use of oak, a real disappointment considering the wine's reputation. While it did have some nice elements, the wood just completely took over on the palate. This was redeemed by our closeout bottle, the legendary Quinta do Noval Nacional 1963. I ranked this the second greatest port I've ever had (after Taylor 1948, which I loved for its incredible elegance and the almost unbelievable floral flavors which compliment the classic Taylor spice). The Nacional was perfectly structured, incredibly long, and similar in flavor to the 1991; the only thing keeping me from scoring it a perfect port, as one taster did, is that I thought it could stand a bit more complexity. Still, it was incredibly pure and elegant, with absolutely seamless balance.

Our next meal was a little more organized in advance. We started with a comparison of 2005 whites: Puligny-Montrachet AC and Puligny-Montrachet Clavoillon Domaine Leflaive, and Corton-Charlemagne Bonneau du Martray. I preferred the Puligny AC to the Clavoillon for its better acidity and minerality; I thought the Clavoillon was a little flabby and lacked precision. The Corton-Charlemagne was the standout of the flight, though; I loved it. Intense flavors, great structure, surprisingly approachable but surely will improve for decades.


The first flight of reds was a horizontal of 1999s from Domaine Armand Rousseau: Gevrey Chambertin Clos St Jacques, Chambertin-Clos de Beze and Chambertin. All were excellent. I gave the bronze medal to the Clos St Jacques; while very good, it lacked the depth and some of the complexity of the two grands crus. The Clos de Beze was really nice too, much more complex, lots of earth and black fruits, moderate weight, but good intensity. The real star was the Chambertin, rich, more complex, with an explosive nose and great, great length. One of the real highlights of the series of tastings.


For comparison, we opened up a magnum of Chambertin-Clos de Beze Armand Rousseau 1996. Surprisingly, given the format, this was nearly ready to go. Like the 1999, it was midweight, and lacked the amazing intensity of the Chambertin 1999, but it was still an outstanding bottle of wine.


Our most recent night ended the series spectacularly, beginning with what for this night was a modest start, a single-blind comparison of Clos de la Roche 2002s by Dujac and Rousseau. We had a pretty good idea of which was which, both from the styles and from being able to see the darker glass on the Dujac. The Rousseau is not though of as one of the stars of their lineup, and while this was a lightweight, the wine was complex and showed its terroir transparently. If I owned it, I'd be drinking it within 5 years or so. The Dujac was much denser, similar flavors (perhaps a bit darker); the main difference was in the stuffing and weight. While ultimately this is a superior wine, even for drinking today, I'd be putting this aside for a while.


We then enjoyed a terrific bottle of Chablis Clos Raveneau 1996, a real rarity. Rich, minerally, some citrus, and just a touch of wood combined into a great expression of Chablis. Even the non-hardcore wine geeks in the group could tell this was something special.


For reds, we had the opportunity to compare Romanee St Vivant DRC 1996 and 1999. The 1996 was explosive when it was opened, with spice the main flavor but also some red and black fruits and an underlying structure that gave it length and richness, but not harshness. The 1999 was similar, and when both were poured I preferred the 1996, but with half an hour or so of air the 1999s purity and elegance came through. I'd still prefer the 1996 for drinking today, as it's in such a great, rich spot, but the 1999 is probably going to come out ahead in the long run.


At this point, our host had a surprise for us: another comparison of DRC 1996s and 1999s, but this flight was La Tache! I'd never had La Tache 1996 before and here was my third bottle of it in a fairly short period. Again, the 1996 was more open and expressive now; I thought it was about in between the quality of the two bottles from the first dinner. The 1999 was remarkable, similar but incredibly pure, absolutely justifying its reputation. Both of these strongly resembled the flavors of the RSVs (not surprising, considering the proximity) but both took complexity and, especially, elegance to a new level, and in comparison the RSVs seemed a little coarse.


A couple of asides on the wines: yes, we drank them young, and no doubt many of these would have developed and improved substantially with age, but none of them were shut down and all but a couple (I'm looking at you, Angelus and Prieure-Roch!) were absolutely delicious.

Each year, early in January, a couple of good friends organize a major tasting lunch at Gramercy Tavern. The theme is always the same: bring a great bottle at least 20 years old, and another of the same age that, while not considered legendary, will be high quality and interesting. This year 15 wine lovers showed up for a really fun afternoon of tasting.

That's been on my calendar for months; then, about 2 weeks ago, a friend invited me up for a blind tasting the same evening. Last year was insanely fun, with bottle after great bottle coming up from his cellar (we ended up having nearly 3 per person!), so I was not about to miss this one. I figured I could just spit a decent amount of the Gramercy wines and I'd have at least 3 or 4 hours between events to rehydrate and recover.

We were greeted with pours of Krug 1988 from magnum, which was unsurprisingly showing extremely young. Nice toasty nose, lot of citrus and acidity on the palate; a great wine but not close to maturity in this format.

The first few wines were sampled while we milled around and chatted, before the lunch service started. I tasted them a bit out of order, as the two whites from this group were both Zind-Humbrecht and I thought that there was a good chance they'd be so rich and thick that the reds would suffer if tasted after them. Unfortunately, no one else had that idea, so after one red I went to the whites so that I could participate in the conversation.

I started with the Gemello "Reminscence" Zinfandel, a blend of the 1972 and 1975, bottled in 1976. This was nice, soft red fruits and typical old zinfandel earthiness, with great but not overbearing acidity. 13.8% alcohol, which was typical of the era, and it carried it very well. This opened up some and improved over a couple of hours.

At that point, I went for the whites after all. Both were very typically thick-textured Zind-Humbrechts. I liked the Riesling Clos St Urbain 1989 more than the Pinot Gris Clos Jebsal VT 1990, although the latter, after a couple of hours, saw the sweetness integrate nicely. At the start, while the flavors were really good, the sweetness was too overt to really make me like this. The riesling had really nice flavors and was merely off-dry, not sweet, which I found much more to my taste.

The next red was Montrose 1966, a wine I've had a couple of times before. This was weaker than those bottles; it had a little tobacco on the nose, but also some green astringency; there was a real harshness that most of the tasters understandbly found to be a fatal flaw. Next up were two Rhones that I really enjoyed. The first was Chateauneuf du Pape Beaucastel 1990, which seemed quite young but also classic, with a typical Beaucastel gaminess, nice fruit, good structure; it was a little rough around the edges but excellent. The other, Cornas VV Noel Verset 1990, was also rustic, but had the flavor profile of a classic Hermitage. I thought it was outstanding, but agreed with Mark that it lacked the precision of a great Hermitage.

The final pre-lunch red was Henschke Hill of Grace 1991, which was a huge, purple, palate staining Australian fruit bomb. For that genre, it was well made, with nice fruit, but I thought it was terribly clumsy and boring next to the two Rhone wines. Finally, I tried the Gravner Ribolla Gialla 2001, which was really nice; moderate weight, not a lot that reminded me of
an actual fruit but really tasty and fairly complex.

We sat down and began with three whites. Laville Haut Brion 1994 was really good; well structured, lots of sauvignon blanc flavors, and a hint of what I called lanolin and someone else described as candle wax, suggesting that it's entering its plateau of maturity. Egon Muller Scharzhofberger Auslese 1991 was fresh, just starting to develop some of the petrol that comes as rieslings age. I thought it was too overtly sweet, but otherwise excellent. Finally, a controversial bottle of Montrachet Marquis de Laguiche 1985. I think of Laguiche as the lightest bodied of the major Montrachets, and this certainly had that characteristic; I thought it was a bit simple, showing the "movie popcorn" I usually find in Laguiche as it gets older, but several people who were familiar with the wine thought it was a poor, possibly oxidized example.

The first red flight was three Burgundies. Grands Echezeaux DRC 1972 had a nice, secondary, foresty-cherry nose; on the palate, it didn't quite follow through (I think the high acidity muted the fruit on the palate), and showed signs of possible chaptalization. Two vintages of Clos de la Roche VV Ponsot were served alongside. The 1988 looked like a rose, but had dense structure, with a lot of tannin and acidity, not unexpected in this super-structured vintage; the fruit was nice, but currently partially hidden below the structure. The 1990 was much better than my previous encounter with the wine two months before. It was extracted, and not as good as it was 5 or 6 years ago, but quite rich and long; the flaws were too little acidity, and it just wasn't that complex.

A blind flight of four followed, the point being to see if the room could spot the one that didn't fit in with the other three. (Anyone who really cares can email me for the background story.) The first wine, La Mission Haut Brion 1975, was completely madeirized. Terribly disappointing as I have had two other bottles from the same source that were incredible. I quite liked the next wine, La Tour Haut Brion 1975, which was a little rustic, but very rich, fruity, turning secondary but still with a lot of tannin coming out on the end. The third wine in the flight was correctly identified by nearly everyone as the outlier. It too had nice structure, but less fruit and body, and pretty obvious Rutherford-type flavors. This one turned out to be Gemello Cabernet Sauvignon 1968. Finally, the last wine in the group, La Tour Haut Brion 1982 was a little less intense than the first, but really beautifully balanced.

This took us into a flight of 1982s. L'Evangile was great, earthy, minerally, explosive but not overextracted. The Margaux prompted Mark at his first sniff to say that it reminded him of an "Indian spice shop," with "cumin and coriander." The fruit was a little hidden on the palate, but still present, and the finish was quite long and very pure. The Ausone was a favorite of the group, but while I liked it, I wasn't as high on it as the group was. I've heard that Ausone often resembles black tea, which this certainly did; I thought it was a little harsh on the palate.

The last Bordeaux was La Fleur-Petrus 1947 (Belgian bottled), which was very fresh and rich, good flavors but all secondary at this point, vibrant from the acidity. Despite the reputation of the vintage I did not find this superextracted or "port-like" at all. Delicious.

I thought the Barolo Falletto Riserva Giacosa 1989 was a bit madeirized, though OK on the palate; it did improve a bit with air. Its companion, Barolo Cannubi Boschis Sandrone 1989 was a wine I described as "soulless." It was obviously nebbiolo but boring, a little oaky, really just generic.

The final dry red was a spectacular bottle of Chateauneuf du Pape Chateau Rayas 1978, a legendary wine. My previous encounter with this, from the same case, was a terribly corked bottle, so I was incredibly excited to have another go at it. It did not disappoint; it was a little gamy, very complex, perfectly structured and balanced; a great wine captured at a perfect moment in its life, and my top wine of the day.

Three dessert wines followed. The Erbaluce Stravecchio Enrico Serafino 1939 resembed a great Vin Santo, or a tawny port with more acidity. It was sweet but not cloying, with toffeeish flavors and long caramel finish. Finally, a very good bottle of TBA Riesling, Rauenthaler Baiken Schloss Eltz 1976. Also sweet but with its great acidity keeping it from being cloying, it was dark amber (typical for TBA) but not showing madeirization. Its only defect was that it lacked the complexity and intensity of a truly great TBA.

I then had headed uptown to meet my ride for the next event. Fortunately I was only wedged into the back seat of a Mini for an hour and 45 minutes. We opened with a non-blind magnum of Henriot Brut 1990, which was nice, with dense flavors but moderate weight, some toasty oak showing but overall an impression of balance. The rest were all served blind. The first white had a couple of people thinking white Graves; I wasn't convinced, and on our host's recommendation put it aside for a while while we sampled a couple of reds. On returning to it, I thought Alsace, which turned out to be right; I quite liked it, although a couple of people who'd had it before thought it was a slightly off bottle. It had a smoky, tropical nose, good fruit, a lot of weight on the palate, a little saltiness; it became more and more tropical with time in the glass. Turned out to be Clos Ste Hune 1976. The first red was a little green, but with nice cherry flavors; the group correctly identified it as left bank Bordeaux. Turned out to be a really nice bottle ot Beychevelle 1990. The next was almost exotic, but also a touch green; lots of tannins (I thought possibly from stems). I found graphite; Victor described it as "leathery." This was Calon Segur 1982, showing much younger than my previous tasting of it.

The next was also good and also showed graphite; it was a little smoky too, and while it was a little harsh and acidic, it was a perfectly respectable bottle of claret. Sasha, I think, knowing Dan's cellar, correctly guessed Lafon Rochet 1970.

I loved the next wine, which was exotic, explosive, well structured, and full of fruit without being overextracted or one-dimensional. Turned out to be Latour 1986. We followed that up with a slightly nutty white, which had some buttered popcorn and a lot of oak on the nose, but without it being oppressive; clearly it was a very well made wine. Victor identified it as Meursault, but even knowing what the cellar looks like, it took us a while to realize the producer was Coche-Dury. This was Meursault Casse Tete 1985, from a lieu a dit (literally, a "named place," used for a bottling of a single vineyard that is not classified as premier cru or grand cru).

I made a reasonable guess on the next wine, which was amber in color and showed great zippy acidity and good fruit to balance the sweetness. I thought maybe a Foreau 1990; it was actually Clos du Bourg "Biodynamique" Huet 1989.

We then switched back to reds, with a wine that everyone immediately identified as Burgundy. I thought it could be Gevrey, or maybe something like a Corton from Meo (because of the strong oak signature and earthiness). It had nice cherry flavors and a good earthiness, but was also a little vegetal, and scarred by the resinous oak. It was revealed as Vosne-Romanee Genevrieres Leroy 1990. The next wine was very pale, with a slight hint of varnish on the nose, nice flavors but also a little green. We were asked by our host if we thought premier cru or grand cru once we identified it as a Vosne; we all thought premier cru at best, but it turned out to be La Romanee 1990. Ah well, it wasn't exactly a secret that this wasn't a great period for Bouchard.

The next wine was terrific. Very classy, a little sappy, red fruity, some earthiness, and just absolutely first-rate. It may have been a village wine, but when the village is Vosne-Romanee, the vintage is 1993, and the winemaker is Henri Jayer, it's not a huge surprise that the wine is great. I would not be surprised at all to learn that there was some young vines Cros Parantoux or even Richebourg blended in. Alas, its companion, Nuits St Georges Henri Jayer 1993 was the only corked bottle of the day.

Sasha had supplied the next wine, which was smoky, red, and bacony; it took us a while to get to it, since our minds were still all on Burgundy, but it was a classic, outstanding bottle of Hermitage JL Chave 1991. It was served with a wine that showed some sour cherry, a touch of madeirization on the palate, and what Victor called "orange peel;" it was a nice bottle of Bosconia 1981, but outclassed by the Chave.

Alas, two of the remaining wines were flawed. The first was very volatile; the palate showed some vibrant fruit but was heavily marked by the VA. The second had a little tobacco on the nose, but a terrible VA problem both on the nose and palate. They were Magdelaine 1953 and Haut Brion 1953. Dammit!

We revived our palates with a high acid, tight but promising bottle of Pol Roger Sir Winston Churchill 1990, and moved on to a wine that showed some coconut on the nose, but the palate was pure rot. Turned out to be a wine with a story. Around 15 years ago, the distributor sold off about 60 cases of Haut Brion Blanc 1984, of which this crowd snapped up a few cases at $10-13.50 a bottle. Apparently it was a great drinker back in the day, but it's well past its best. Next up a wine I pulled from the cellar, which was lovely and transparent, with really nice strawberry fruit although a touch of rusticity. John called it "unclean," but I really liked it. It was Monthelie Cote de Beaune Coche-Dury 1993. Finally, a disjointed, poor, not madeirized but unpalatable bottle of Corton-Charlemagne Louis Latour 1990. Not sure what was up with this as I've had very good experiences with Latour's Corton-Charlemagne in the past, although I don't think I'd ever had the 1990 before.

Whew! A long day, but a great one. Thanks to everyone at lunch for bringing such great wine, and special thanks to our host in the evening for having us, cleaning up after us and pulling great wine after great wine from his cellar!

My group met Tuesday night in Westchester. The usual theme, with the host supplying all the wines and serving them blind.

Usually we start out with a sparkler, but this time Dan brought out three whites. The first was, in my opinion, slightly oxidized; there was a burst of good flavors up front but a heavy burned taste came out on the finish. That did recede some with time. Most agreed it was a classic Sauvignon Blanc.

Wine #2 was a little shorter than #1, but a totally classic (and excellent) white Burgundy. At least, that's what I got out of it; Gilman (who was on fire that night) pegged it correctly as Meursault.

The third wine was also slightly oxidizing, some tropical fruits, and a heavy banana taste. Some cared for this more than I did, but others liked it even less. If I were in the habit of scoring wines I'd rate it about an 84.

1) Sancerre Grande Cote Pascot Cotat 2000
2) Meursault Goutte d'Or Henri Boillot 2000
3) Haut Brion Blanc 1994

A second flight of whites followed. The first seemed like a slightly oxidizing white Burgundy, lowish acidity, reasonable flavors, not too much oak (good!). The second was quite good, if seeming a touch disjointed, with a nice lemony nose, but a slightly heavy, honeyed palate (perhaps another sign of early oxidation setting in?). Gilman again identified Meursault almost immediately.

1) Stony Hill Chardonnay 2005
2) Meursault Chevalieres JP Fichet 2005

Now it was time for Champagne. This one was a rose, very dense and closed down on the palate, with clearly outstanding potential but not giving up a ton at the moment. I thought it might be Dom Perignon Rose 1996. Turned out to be Dom Ruinart Rose 1996.

Our first flight of reds began with two wines that were pretty easily identifiable as Burgundy. I continued my vintage-guessing streak by identifying 1998. The first was very herbal and tannic, but with some really nice earthy flavors; it was pretty closed down but I'd love to try it again in a decade or so. The other was really pretty, open, lots of cherry fruit. I thought it was excellent.

1) Chambolle-Musigny Fuees JF Mugnier 1998
2) Chambolle-Musigny Gruenchers Fourrier 1998

Next up were two more reds, where I was again in Burgundy on both. The first was starting to fall apart a bit but still quite nice, earthy, with good ripe fruit. The other was a little madeirized, a touch sweet, and not very good.

1) Corton Pougets Louis Jadot 1990
2) Chateau Musar 1991

I have some responsibility for the Musar; I introduced our host to it a few months ago by blinding him on the 1991, which showed brilliantly, and he immediately went out and bought several vintages. Well, I did warn him that they're notoriously variable.

I quite liked our next wine, which was a touch green and not quite at peak yet, but developing some complexity and clearly extremely well made. I thought its companion was corked. I believe that was a minority view, although I was not in a minority of one.

1) Vieux Chateau Certan 1990
2) Lenz Merlot 1995 (corked?)

A flight of three was up next. The first was earthy, rustic, with some coffee notes. I should have been quicker to figure out what this was. The other was many tasters' wine of the night. Mark and I both said "Graves" as soon as we lifted our glasses, as the cigar and saddle leather coming off the glass were unmistakeable. I thought it was an '82, with all that sweet fruit. Alas, our third bottle was corked.

1) Chateau Magdelaine 1970
2) Chateau Pape Clement 1964
3) Chateau Certan de May 1979 (corked)

The next and last flight, of two wines, opened with a leathery, sweet, very good wine that also showed some tobacco. Its companion was corked, but another took its place. When it was first poured I thought it was all anise; I was told I was wrong. Cherry and gamy notes came out and after a few minutes with it, Mark identified it as a Chave (on his first guess). A mouth-coating wine with a lot of tannin, but developing nicely from my previous encounter with it, when I thought the oak was too obtrusive (that was 7 years ago).

1) Chateau La Mission Haut Brion 1981
2) Mouton 1987 (corked)
3) Ermitage Cuvee Cathelin JL Chave 1990

Many thanks to our host for everything and especially for pulling a treasure like the Cuvee Cathelin as a last-minute replacement!

Zachys retail had a walkaround tasting of some 2005 Bordeaux Wednesday night, so a few of us went over to promote the upcoming auction and do some tasting. Figeac was a huge disappointment; you could tell how great the juice itself was but it was oaked into absolute submission. A friend who tasted it in barrel said that it was showing far oakier now than it had then, when he loved it, so perhaps it was just a poor sample. Similarly, Mouton Rothschild seemed like a not-great wine but man did that oak taste expensive.

The shocker for me was how much I liked Leoville Las Cases. The wine was balanced, which is a rare commodity these days; Parker's note says the alcohol is 13.1%, quite modest for a modern Bordeaux; it had great fruit but was not heavy or overextracted, just an elegant wine with all of its components in harmony. A truly great wine.

I haven't had the Hermanos Sastre Pesus 2003, but I imagine it's the kind of wine I hate, which is why I'm posting this story. This wine that I'd never heard of prior to doing a google search for "300% new oak" scored 98 points from the Wine Advocate's Jay Miller, who described the 100-case cuvee as "surely one of Spain's greatest wines."

What's 300% new oak, you ask? Well, I was already familiar with 200% new oak, a treatment promoted by, among others, Burgundy negociant Dominique Laurent. The technique involves aging the wine for a while in new oak, and then transferring it into another new oak barrel for further aging. This is the same, only with yet another new oak barrel.

Allow me to set the scene here. The wine has spent a couple of years in two different new oak barrels. The winemaker, property owner, consultant, perhaps people from neighboring estates are in the cave. They draw out samples of the wine from barrel, pass them around, taste. They contemplate the wine for a while. Finally, someone speaks up. "Well...it's pretty oaky..."

I actually had this a couple of days after the Kistler, but haven't posted on it.

At my roommate's recommendation, we picked up a bottle of W.H. Smith Maritime Pinot Noir 2006. I haven't been too high on New World pinot, since I am generally averse to the structure--there are plenty of wines where I can tolerate extraction, but low acidity is a fatal flaw for me--but this was good. I didn't try it when it was opened, but I was informed that it was showing a ton of extraction. It settled down half an hour or so later, and we thought that if you served it to people blind and just let them smell it, but not taste it, that they could easily mistake it for Burgundy. Which doesn't sound crazy. He had La Tache '93 recently, and after introducing the comment with, "You're going to laugh," said that it was very similar to that nose (red fruits, some savory spices). Anyone wanting to educate me on the subject is welcome to!

The palate was good, pretty complex, lots of red fruits and some earthiness. It even had nice structure, at least for the half an hour it was at peak. Still, that's quite a comment on the wine, that's a 2006 that really only had about half an hour where it was impressive.

This was part of a mixed lot of '66s purchased at auction earlier this year; we drank through most of them at a big tasting, but there were a few duplicates and this seemed perfect to accompany a rib-eye the size of my head.

It was uncorked, but not poured, 4 hours before serving in accordance with the "Audouze method." It's impossible to say whether it would have been an improvement on a standard treatment, since we did not have a second bottle to handle that way, but the wine showed perfectly well, so that's that.

It's the kind of wine that they used to make routinely. Mid-weight, Pomerol-type earthiness when it was opened, later developing some red fruits. Traditional claret for sure; I like to think that if I'd been served it blind, I would have worked out that it's a Pomerol. It smelled great; the main problem with it is that while the attack was really nice, the flavors just dropped off a cliff, leaving us with no fruit on the finish at all, just the memory of the acidity. It's not a great wine, but it's a good one, reasonably complex, pretty tasty, without any harsh edges, interesting, and with the right amount of alcohol.

This was not tasted under ideal circumstances, as a group of my co-workers and I had it on a Metro-North train coming home from work.

Not a bad wine, although at age 8 I thought it was already likely past its best; it didn't taste like it was oxidizing, but the color was almost butterscotch, which isn't a great sign. It had a fair amount of oak, as expected, although it wasn't overbearing; the acidity wasn't bad, but it didn't have the freshness of white Burgundy. At the prevailing price (it's widely available between $80 and $100) I think it's a poor value, but I did like it enough to pour a refill, which I would not have expected. I am not sure how I would have responded to it blind, but in general I find these wines clumsy compared to better white Burgundy.

Labels: kistler, train