All posts from WLDG's Netscape interlude appear to have gotten deleted. This is a repost on request. Where I saved and kept old posts at all, please note these are "original" versions, possibly containing mistakes and/or typos I may have cleaned up on the net, plus in some cases using the "old" adjectival rating system. Sorry, no time to proof-read!
A gathering of the greatest part of those whom I affectionately call my "chosen family", on the 30th of December at Marc's place in Zürich. Albino and Andrea came back from Italy just in time for dinner, Victor interrupted a holiday with his family in Ascona to come and join us, and apart from our host Marc (thanks again for letting us use your flat!), Dani, Oliver, Rainer and Michelle were there as well. What had originally been set for a small vertical of 1990 Brunellos by Victor and me, turned into a dinner and fine wine extravaganza.
For my "adjectival rating system", see postscript, if necessary.
Gunderloch Riesling Auslese Long Gold Capsule #8 Nackenheim Rothenberg 1996
Thanks to Victor. I had not been aware there was a Long Gold Capsule in this vintage and I must admit a superficial look at the capsule would not have led me to notice it (not a VdP-Auction bottle with a sticker!). Quite deeply golden colour with copper reflections. Exotic, with strong dark slate minerality floating atop roasted mango. A well-concentrated, lightly buttery-oily wine with quite icewine-like acidity (it is entirely possible that a top Auslese contains some icewine in this vintage). Quite long on the finish. Not closed but obviously short of full maturity. Not the huge size and density of Diel's VdP-Auction Gold Capsule that year, this still stood up to airing in the fridge well enough for a couple of days. Outstanding!
Trimbach Riesling Clos Ste-Hune 2000
No need to type a third TN within a couple of months, but this was the first bottle I could taste from a mouthblown Riedel Sommelier series Riesling Grand Cru (same as Chianti) stem plus retaste from the fridge the morning after. Victor immediately noticed the slightly more golden colour than usual (can not tell if the other two samples I tasted were a shade paler, to use different stemware can be so deceptive). Upon closer inspection, the vintages of reference here appear to be 1983 and especially 1990 rather than the cut-of-steel 1971, although I must admit I tend to favour comparisons to the 1990 because it is the one whose evolution I could follow (I obviously have never tasted the 1971, nor even 1983, in its youth). The 2000 is fruitier and more floral than the 1990, with the ripe acidity, the similarly salty minerality and perhaps lower alcohol more integrated (so that the 2000 tastes less aggressively salt water-like than the 1990 used to, and appears to be buffering its acidity and especially its alcohol better, no doubt due to its high dry extract). In short, the 2000 is less of an unapproachable monument, but at this stage it seems as if that is only the case because it may be yet better balanced. When I get to choose (which I do not, because the wines are a decade apart in evolution) between two wines of similar terroir expression, minerality and overall size, with one being a bit more up-front, fruitier and more viscous, less alcoholic, offering higher dry extract, this would be what I tend to prefer. Then again, all those huge raw materials could be expected to come together in the 1990 already early on, and indeed, all the elements there have fallen into place and the 1990 is no longer overpowering in terms of acidity and alcohol today. In other words, the 1990 is no longer youthfully mean but right on the verge of its plateau of maturity (careful, with wines this great, entering this plateau can take longer than one thinks!). I am not trying to split hairs here as any Clos Ste-Hune aficionado will want to own either, it is rather that I wish I could say the 2000 were, at least to me, less perplexing, easier to interpret, perhaps more approachable. Yet the sucker just barely opened up, seemed to be getting longer for a while, then shut up almost completely over night and seemed shorter again. It is, after all, Clos Ste-Hune. The potential seems all there for greatness, possibly even perfection, but these wines are so hard to make sense of in their youth, they can make you feel you misspent your youth and money on your wine hobby and have become barely a shred wiser… Regardless, this should turn out to be the greatest CSH since the 1990 and one of the finest among the thoroughly dry ones of all time. I am not planning to open another bottle of my own stock before it is approaching the age of ten at least. But I am not going to say 'no' should anyone else offer to pull a cork on one ;^)
Simon Maye Syrah Vieilles Vignes Chamoson 2003
Thanks to Rainer. Youthfully deep purple-ruby-black. Some garrigue, sweetly ripe fruit with some pepperiness a lavender and violet florality. Not huge but fairly big, tannic yet also quite glyceric. Someone wondered if there was some American oak vanilla here, but the oak was as integrated as the 12.8% alcohol. A vintage of rare concentration levels, but also heat and drought, the kind greeted by the press even before the grapes are picked, but that saw many a vintner scratch their heads in the cellar. This very rare wine is an unqualified success for the vintage, however, proof of what could be done. How ageworthy it is (the acid/tannic backbone seems neither soft nor flabby) impossible to tell for me, as there is simply no track record for wines like this. Outstanding!
Château Angélus St. Emilion 1995
Thanks to Albino, the remainders of a bottle he and Andrea had drunk a couple of days or so before. Deep garnet-ruby, red-orange at the rim. Beautiful mature fruit, so sweet and mulled-wine-like I could not quite make up my mind and say what it was (a function of the prolonged airing, no doubt, and one more symptom, if ever another was needed, of a promising future), some sweet tobacco, flavourful tannin with a faint dryness, but essentially also sweet. Pretty gorgeous wine, though not quite as long on the finish as nose and attack suggest (tasting note taken on a wine served blind, but no wonder given it had been open for days!). This seemingly has been drinking well almost since release, more so lately than many rather shut up 1995s, but does not seem less ageworthy for it. It is just a highly concentrated, very generous and complex little wine ;^) About great as always.
Mitolo Shiraz McLaren Vale Savitar 2004
Thanks to Oliver, who bought a sample bottle after he had seen a favourable rating in a popular wine magazine, and said he wanted "to hear what the more experienced Shiraz lovers have to say" as long he still has the option to buy more. Opaque purple, purple-red at the rim. Some sweet oak already on the nose, aromas and flavours of milk chocolate and prune, some fresh green licorice stick underneath. A bit hot, quite powerful and potentially smooth, medium-plus finish with some American oak tannin yielding a vanilla and charcoal aftertaste. A very young, certainly about outstanding quality wine in which the raw elements should still come together nicely, stylistically among the more preferable Aussie Shiraz I have tasted recently, that is, provided of course one likes Shiraz of this ripeness level and size at all, but not inexpensive, not even for what it is.
Bruno Giacosa Barbaresco Riserva Santo Stefano 1989
Thanks to Oliver. Ruby-garnet, orange at the rim. Marzipan, a touch of sweat, mature rose-hip, some dried herbs, a little meat and brown spice, faint dried lemon. Harmonious, delicious, quite long. Tannins are not too dry and orangey, some tea notes to it. It took Rainer no time at all to come to the conclusion it had to be a Bruno Giacosa, and (curiously enough: independently!) Marc that it might be from Santo Stefano. Perhaps an early-mature bottle (Oliver only bought this a few years ago, and this is the first time I could taste the 1989, so this is merely an assumption of mine), and even if the Giacosa buffs would have expected more power after a bottle of the 1990 had still shown some youthful brutality and seemed at least half closed last November, everyone at the table fell head over heels for it. Outstanding!
Giacomo Conterno Barolo 1964
Thanks to Marc, who had recently acquired this from a private collection and who had been looking forward to this with great anticipation. From a time when it did not yet say "Cascina Francia" on the label. Light yellow-ruby, looking rather transparent but perfectly healthy. Animal nose, Madeira lemon, Maggi broth cube, ginger, soft stale rose water, the typical clean hay and autumnal fallen leaves aromas, and that "Malaga sweetness of death" as Marc says. No signs of disintegration whatsoever on the palate, if obviously past its prime, I have never witnessed a Piedmontese Nebbiolo die more gracefully, and virtually without loss of freshness. Very well-balanced, with very little fruit and just some sweetness left, and yet, no varnish top note, tannin or acidity sticking out. The superlative quality of vintage may no longer be manifesting itself in terms of power, let alone fruit, but the wine is not wholly devoid of intensity. The tannin in particular remains firm and is not drying at all. Still at least excellent, there can be no doubt this must have been well-outstanding, very possibly great a decade and more ago. A pity that collectors of fine wine, even true aficionados (I do not claim to be an exception), sometimes hold on to bottles of legendary wine until it is (almost) too late.
Domaine Leflaive Blagny Sous le Dos d'Ane 1999
Thanks to Victor. I had not even been aware Leflaive made red wine! Lively ruby-red. At first youthfully closed, lots of ginger on the nose, extremely spicy with terroir as well as fruit, hard to tell how oaky the wine is. Some earth, stony-minerally, good body and length. Firm tannin, but enough fruit and glycerine for impeccable balance, the quality of vintage is clearly showing. Not the ultimate in depth, but nicely complex. Extremely well done, the only limiting factor here appears to be the soil itself (which is not to say the terroir expression seems inferior, there just does not seem to be more to it). Another wine by a top producer from a no doubt nice but not great terroir that adds fuel to one of my beliefs (call me a ranter if you like) that those sitting on great terroirs in Burgundy and making mediocre wine from them should simply be disowned, and the parcels redistributed among producers like this one. Victor scores this 92 points, I might have been cruel and rated it excellent plus because of its youth (which comes down almost to the same thing in the long run, of course), but what seems more important is that everybody at the table loved it. Being a strict believer in the concept of terroir, in particular if one intends to cellar wine made from such a soil-expressive grape variety as Pinot Noir, I happen to find this priced at the upper limit. Having said that, if anyone claimed there was better Blagny 1er Cru being made, I would find it hard to believe.
Roumier Bonnes Mares Vieilles Vignes 1988
Only 900 bottles of this old vine cuvée were made, and this is the only vintage of this "terre brune" bottling. Apparently the vines in the red clay part and there only those over 15 years old were ahead in maturity, so they were picked earlier and not assembled with the later-picked juice. The Roumiers believe the usual assemblage yields a more complete wine, but their opinion notwithstanding, most fans agree this exceptional bottling to be a benchmark for Roumier Bonnes Mares. I made the mistake of opening a bottle when it had reached age ten, more precisely, to serve it at a Christmas dinner, when it was still all structure and no fun. It is still some way from full maturity, but at least showing some of its stuff. Fresh ruby-black, youthful but with slight orange at the rim. Floral with violet and dark rose, precise raspberry and mixed forest berries, herbs centering around vermouth, tobacco leaf, and a suggestion of that quickly evaporating odour of a freshly lighted match (sulphur, just not unattractive?). Big and almost salty with extract and stony minerality. Tannic, with growing sweetness of fruit. Getting longer on the finish all the time. Highly concentrated and so impressively structured. Already complex, with lots and lots of character, if still an infant. The greatest Roumier I know, at least along with, possibly even including the 1993 Musigny. Quite simply the finest Bonnes Mares I have ever had. And, as Victor was quick to point, by far the best 1988 Burgundy any of us could name. The wine of the evening by unanimous consent (and that is not to be taken as a side-swipe at the 1961 Latour! – But honestly, as uncomplicated as Bordeaux may be in comparison, is there anything that can stand up to truly great Pinot Noir when one, keep your fingers crossed, deigns to sing?). Rainer, who is now really getting into Burgundy since we were having some spectacular ones together, went so far as to say he even preferred this slightly to Joseph Roty's 1993 Charmes-Chamertin Très Vieilles Vignes, and yet more clearly to Armand Rousseau's 2002 Chambertin, the two most impressive Burgundies he has tasted this year. No need to worry, Alan, I will not forget and promise to hold on to a bottle to share with you, should we ever come to the United States, or you decide to come and see us! Great plus!
Château L'Evangile Pomerol 1995
Thanks to Rainer. Deep lightly garnet ruby, slightly watery orange-red at the rim. Pretty tobacco and faint tobacco ash aromas, some green bell pepper, Cabernet Franc leafiness. Lovely, round, wine, softly fruity, nice but not too serious density. Nicely balanced. Smooth tannin. Medium-plus length, good subtlety on the finish. Typical Pomerol pleaser. Elegant rather than powerful, as Rainer noted himself. Surprisingly accessible and forward for a 1995. The Angélus was more to our taste, but of course this is a safely outstanding right bank beauty as well.
Château Latour Pauillac 1961
A mid to high shoulder level bottle from a private collection. My heart leapt for joy when I pulled the cork, heard that soft popping noise indicating that the cork had retained an airtight seal, and knew the wine had no cork taint and showed no oxidation whatsoever. This was when people saw me hopping about like a kid. Decanting revealed very little and extremely fine, almost powdery sediment. The vintage date, next to the writing around Latour's famous tower, was perfectly visible on the sides of the quality 55 millimetre cork. Served this blind to my friends, as most of the other wines that night. Deep garnet-ruby colour almost to the rim, opaque at the centre (despite pouring nine portions into large Riedel Sommeliers!), fresh and shiny, with barely any orange at the rim at all (maybe one and a half millimetres?). A big and impressively complete wine with marvellous terroir expression. Gorgeous cigar tobacco and minerals in harmony with great density of mature fruit, complex and sweet, the prettiest ash and caramel finesse notes. Wonderful, flavourful tannins, substantial in quantity, yet of such fine grain and smoothness, and so well-integrated! Very long and subtle on the finish. No wonder my friends quickly agreed on 1982 as being the most likely vintage, even if Rainer felt the overall freshness, in particular that of the acidity and tannic backbone, surpasses that of any 1982 Premier Cru. I was very pleased. Since I wanted my friends to be able and enjoy the remainder of their samples knowing what they were drinking, I soon put an end to the guessing game and showed them the bottle.
You will hardly believe how relieved I was: I had virtually been praying the night before, fearing the worst and keeping my fingers crossed. So I sat there and listened to what the others had to say in silence. Whereas Marc felt this was easily a 100-point experience, Victor, the only person at the table who had actually tasted 1961 Latour before, put it into perspective, comparing it to a sample (whether from a standard size bottle or magnum I forgot to ask) he had once had at a tasting in Munich and which he described as a "mind-shattering" experience and as virtually "endless" on the finish, so that in comparison he would have to give this bottle tonight a rating of 97 points. I know that feeling very well. It has happened to me numerous times, most recently at the Bonneau vertical in Graz only a couple of weeks before, when I rated a bottle of 1988 Célestins a hefty six points lower than before (the tasting and scoring was blind, but knowing a wine's identity will not change my mind). The bottle was not faulty, it was just that the memory of a glorious earlier bottle, in hindsight one that must have sung at the top of its voice, still lingered and I ended up being disappointed with the bottle at hand.
What I can say about our bottle of Latour 1961 is that it also reminded me of the 1982, maybe one ever-so-slightly more oversized (though not so much less elegant), archaic (which I love) and mature (having said that, I do not believe the 1982 can match the 1961 in terms of its phenolics content, i.e. tannin and colouring matter). Given my love for the 1982, that is already high praise. I cannot say I thought the 1961 "better" (whatever that means – in some ways I did) than the 1982, of which I last had a pristine bottle about six years ago: nothing compares to the promise of a potentially perfect young wine. Having said that, it is a paradox to me how the 1961 seemed to combine so many attributes of youth at the age of 44, yet did not smell nor taste immature – to witness such eternal youthfulness is humbling. In other words, I wish I were aging as well ;^)
I was in deep trouble when Victor asked if I felt this was the greatest wine I had ever tasted. I guess not. His point was that given the 1961 Latour's reputation, there should be no doubt. It is, after all, what he once told me was his most memorable red wine encounter ever – but note he is the first to admit that there is nothing like a first time for anything ;^)
I honestly could not name a favourite. Even the thought of accumulating a top ten list would be almost sickening for one who praises variety. Given the importance of a wine's aromatic profile to me (I am a "nose guy"), it would not even cross my mind that any Latour would figure near the top of my list. More than anything else, however, Victor made me realise that not one of the dry red wines (white, sweet and fortified are a different matter) I might refer to as my all-time favourite was fully mature, meaning that I judged each and every one of them in terms of potential and not exclusively what they had to offer at the moment. There is merely a fine line between a so-called educated guess and wishful thinking.
Does "full maturity" mean the same to everyone, by the way? "One speaks upward and forward," Artur Schnabel used to advise his piano pupils, "therefore one must not play downward and backward." The musical line is not supposed to drop. In like manner, a wine "on its apogee" is hovering, not in free fall. The downward slope, the abyss into which the wine is bound to fall, must be safely out of sight. Certainly anything with one foot in the grave will not make it on my all-time favourites list.
And youthful it was indeed, our bottle of 1961 Latour. Maybe I messed up? I only realised a few days later that René Gabriel, Switzerland’s Bordeaux guru, appears to believe this wine needs lots of time in the decanter, something between one and four hours it looks like. He even claims it is possible for this 44-years-old wine to close down in the decanter as he feels it remains youthfully reductive. I must admit I simply decanted and poured, I was too exited to think clearly and/or get some information beforehand. Hard to imagine our bottle would have shown yet better with extended airing, but then, what do I know? Since we are at it: I should probably mention the bottle had travelled in the trunk of my car on the same day (I know, I know, I should probably be tarred and feathered…), same as Victor's 1985 Martha's Vineyard (see below).
In hindsight it makes me smile to think it took a bottle of Latour 1961 for Victor to do what I do on a daily basis: say something unvarnished about someone else's bottle (of course I do the same with ones I bring along). He is so polite, in part no doubt thanks to his British ancestry, and one could see it made him feel uneasy. And yet, he made his point perfectly clear, as indeed he should. He made me feel so proud of our little wine circle! What use is it tasting wine together if one cannot speak his mind? In addition, there is so much one can learn from people with superior knowledge and experience. I would hate to miss the opportunity.
Heitz Cellar Cabernet Sauvignon Napa Valley Martha's Valley 1985
Thanks to Victor. Not served blind since everyone had been looking forward to it (knew he would bring a bottle of this legendary wine along). Deep, at the centre opaque, ruby-black, tiny orange at the rim. Minor Heitz stink at first, but that animal, almost cork-like top note soon integrated into the complex mosaic whole (one could tell Victor was still in a state of shock over an earlier cork-tainted bottle from the same lot). Mint, marinated tomato, soft, beautiful tobacco, as yet extremely tender Heitz maltiness, meat, sweat. While essentially the same great wine, I thought this bottle a fraction less sweet, thick and dense with blackcurrant, smooth and deep, powerful and long, seemingly more thrown back on its tannic backbone (even if this bottle actually seemed less tannic), than one I was given the opportunity to taste three years earlier and that to me remains the greatest bottle of U.S. wine I know. In all fairness, our sample of 1985 Martha's had travelled that same day (plus the 1961 Latour was a tough act to follow). I can only assume it would have needed more time to settle. After several hours' airing in the decanter, it still seemed to be putting on weight in the glass. When I poured the sediment into a glass a day later, skimming off the dregs after a while, the leftovers seemed to have grown in complexity and sweetness. I know the 1985 Martha's Vineyard is worth the 98 point rating (with possible upwards potential) Victor would have given this, even if I would not have gone quite as high today. I loved it and would be elated to be given another opportunity to drink this wine one day in the future (pRRRease!), as it still seems short of full maturity. And let us be realistic: given how many "off" bottles (TCA-tainted ones in particular) of legendary Heitz vintages are apparently circulating, any showing in the "great" category is a reason to be ecstatic!
Château Rayas Châteauneuf-du-Pape Réserve (!) 1988
Thanks to Albino. Victor was quick to point out that the small triangular label read "RÉSERVE 1988" instead of "RÉSERVÉ". I do not remember ever having seen a bottle of Rayas with this misprint (in fact, I have always been wondering why it usually says "RÉSERVÉ" in the first place). Hard to believe a wine could be a fake that evoked sweet memories of a past when my high school buddy Ned and I used to dine out in Alsace on a regular basis, one year until we had drunk up all the 1988 Rayas at one restaurant, right after we had finished the remaining bottles of 1989 at another ;^) Our present sample showed a full, shiny red with a ruby hue, soft black reflections and very slight orange at the rim. Tomato, baked plum and flintstone aromas (the exact words I already used in a tasting note on a bottle in August 1999, when Ned and I took Albino with to that restaurant and the big guy ordered some of the finest Presskopf I have ever tasted). "Gorgeous strawberry fruit", as Rainer noted, just some of the typical rowan berry, big but harmoniously integrated cigar tobacco, and perhaps a tiny "rancio" top note, as Victor noted. The tannin here is (has always been) a bit grainy and rustic, but the contrast between the sweetly ripe, thick and glyceric mouthful of perfumed red fruit on the attack, and the firm and faintly dry backbone is classic Rayas from the golden era, a kind of balance that sometimes reminds me of Asian food (think or "sweet & sour", "sweet & hot" etc.), rarely also of glorious traditionally-styled Rioja. I seem to remember the 1988 Rayas as a jammier, I am tempted to say more awkward chunk of wine, but had no doubt what we had in front of us was authentic. As a matter of fact, I wish the bottle of Henri Bonneau's archaic Riserva-styled Célestins, at its best my favourite CdP of the vintage by far, had shown as well a the vertical in Graz. Our risk-averse Victor was so puzzled by the misprint and remained so sceptical about the wine's authenticity that he brought up the question if it might be a bottle of 1988 Pignan. I do not know that wine, but if so, the two wines would have to be incredibly close in overall character and quality (which is hard to believe). My rating for this bottle was as high as on any of the earlier ones. I also overheard Victor and Marc agree the wine was virtually "endless" on the finish, another indication that it must have been the real McCoy. There has got to be a more simple explanation for the misprint on the top label than forgery, especially given the undeniable quality of wine we drank. Maybe someone knows? Outstanding pushing great. Drink or hold.
Domaine de Marcoux Châteauneuf-du-Pape Vieilles Vignes 1990
More youthful, less open and evolved than the 1988 Rayas, I underestimated how much time in the decanter this would have needed, and am afraid some may have finished their samples a bit too quickly. Started out closed and smelling a bit weird, but in the end, surpassed the Rayas by a margin, a difficult task given the Rayas seemed fully mature (albeit with cellaring potential) and sang from the moment it was poured. Full ruby-black to the rim. Bitter almond, cocoa and a soft coffee aroma, a little garrigue (the roasted Provençal herbs and pepper) to the sweet Grenache fruit. Highly concentrated, youthfully tight and tannic at first, but slowly became more open, perfumey and seemingly "purer" on the nose, as well as meatier, sweeter, longer and more harmonious on the palate. Later, when everyone else had unfortunately already finished their samples, it seemed like a sturdier, of course slightly more evolved version of the 1998 (which we had only just retasted at Albino's birthday party last August), more similar than dissimilar twin titans really, with perhaps a fraction more tannic power here and a fraction more fruit opulence and finesse there. Needs time but may well end up near-perfect in time (possibly lots of time!). Great!
Romano Dal Forno Amarone della Valpolicella 1991
Thanks to Dani. I remember years ago Albino used to serve tiny Walnut puddings (moist muffins) at the end of his dinner extravaganzas, as he claimed that no matter how many courses he served, this would kill everyone's appetite for more. Boy, they really did! This wine fulfilled about the same function, and was the first of which no everybody finished their glasses. And believe me, that was not because they did not like the wine! Almost opaque, deep pruney ruby-black with a slight watery rim. Peppermint, eucalyptus, green banana. Hugely sweet on the nose with raisined black cherry, prune and big alcohol. Concentrated and dense almost like a solid on the palate, if not as super-concentrated as e.g. the 1995. Glyceric raisins and dark chocolate, a touch of green licorice stick underneath that helps to keep this fresh. Livelier yet thicker, more full-bodied, viscous and sweet, richer and longer than the Quintarelli in this vintage. May contain a little residual sugar as well. People barely nipped on their samples of 1970 Talyor's anymore after this, and we decided to call it a day. I finished my glass while washing Riedels the next morning, by which time it tasted even sweeter and smoother. Drinking extremely well now. The vintage of reference here, I feel, should really be the 1990 and not 1994 and after, as Dal Forno is known to have cut his already low yields in half from that vintage onwards, and thus achieves yet greater fruit density (not regardless of vintage, though, as some wine merchants try to make one believe!). I remember the 1990 as is better balanced, racier and more vigourous, in short ageworthier, but I would not have thought the 1991 would come so close in giving pleasure. A spectacular success for the vintage! About great.
Taylor's Vintage Port 1970
Albino's other contribution, a Deinhard of London bottling from a lot I had once bought for Albino at Tanner's Wine Shop in Scotland (or Middle England?) about ten years ago. Inexplicably, I do not seem to have a single tasting note on this bottling, but it seems hard to believe we never tasted a bottle from that lot. The 1970 Taylor is a wine we have had so often that I cannot avoid putting this into perspective: compared to the best bottlings, among those Albino's super-sweet Morgan Furze, London, bottled one, followed hard on the heels by a drier but structured nondescript bottling I once bought in Oxford, this was disappointing. Relatively speaking, of course, as it was still an about excellent quality Port, but still… And this is not a conclusion I have come to lightly, as we had reached a point late at night, after so and so many bottles of wine, some still with that monster size 1991 Dal Forno in their Hermitage stems, where one might find anything odious ;^) Of course I retasted the wine early in the morning and again around lunch time. Medium-plus ruby-black with an orange hue, watery orange at the rim. Lightly stale violet, a little coffee torrefaction, smoke, plum and a soft medicinal iodine note on the still fresh but rather hot nose. Fairly aggressive on the palate at first, hot and sweet in a slightly weird way, but quite long. Less alcoholic of course after more airing, but stale in comparison to what we are used to, and still very hot. About excellent only (this bottle!).
New Year's Eve itself I spent with my parents and a bottle of bubbly:
Bollinger Champagne Extra Brut R.D. 1990
Nicely golden colour. Almost all structure and vinosity, a ageworthy vintage that is youthfully intense, with thick appley flavours, great acids and strong perlage. Allow this to warm up a little in your glass to get a preview of the potential complexity, finesse and length. Loved it, but opening a bottle today is infanticide. Great!
Greetings from Switzerland, David.
P.S.
For those who have problems interpreting my "adjectival scoring", the numerical correspondences are as follows:
79 and below = NOT GOOD (i.e. no need to figure out exactly)
80 – 84 = GOOD (same as 16 and over in the European 20-point system)
85 – 89 = VERY GOOD (same as 17 and over; I sometimes use EXCELLENT or ALMOST-OUTSTANDING to indicate 88 – 89)
90 – 94 = OUTSTANDING (same as 18 and over)
95 – 99 = GREAT (or CLASSIC, same as 19 and over; I sometimes use NEAR-PERFECT to indicate a 98 – 99 score)
100 = PERFECT (20 out of 20)
Note I will rarely buy wine below my own EXCELLENT rating (that's where wine really starts standing out for individuality from the mass of technically impeccably-made wines) except for an occasional and there truly exceptional QPR (I must insist any wine in the VERY GOOD category with me is serious stuff, way above average wine, that I still wouldn't buy because I've got to somehow limit my wine buying). But if a wine is costly, it had better be at least OUTSTANDING!
But thanks for bearing with me!