I have a dear friend in São Paulo who is an erudite art critic, chess player and dedicated student of philosophy. He wakes up late in the afternoon, interacts with friends and family, reads after everyone goes to sleep, and packs it in when the sun rises. His father is wealthy, making this lifestyle possible. His father also has an extensive cellar, and it was at his home that many years ago we shared a 1967 Romanée-Conti that remains my outstanding wine memory, despite being slightly maderized. His father also gave me a bottle of 1975 La Mission that remains my outstanding claret memory. So it was with sadness that Marcia and I accompanied my friend to his father’s house yesterday and found the latter, already in his late 80s, deeply withdrawn into the advanced stages of senility. His children are splitting up some of the wine, and my friend brought me along as consultant. Over the subsequent two hours, we pulled out six dozen bottles for my friend and, over my increasingly feeble protests, a dozen for me. It was every geek’s dream; wish you could have been there.
Both my friend and his father have fairly straight-ahead tastes: 95% red Bordeaux and white Burgundy. The handful of DRCs and Pétruses were not to be touched, but everything else was game. The clarets were mostly top notch, but the white burgs were mostly from the 1970s, from négociants like La Reine Pédanque, Alexis Lichine, and Louis Latour. I loaded my friend’s cases with top Bordeaux from stronger vintages with high fills and some 1999s for near term consumption. For myself, I chose mostly strays and stragglers, odd bottles lost here and there than nobody seemed to want. My friend managed to shove some mainstream Bordeaux into my case, making it an eclectic mix:
1925 Marques de Riscal Reserva – surprisingly high fill, couldn’t resist the prospect of impressing even Victor
1961 Nicolas Charenton Quarts de Chaume – foil says EN, but could find nothing on google about this producer
1969 Chateau Suduiraut Sauternes – Marcia’s birth year; have hopes for this one
1975 Ernst Jungkenn Rheinhessen Dienheimer Paterhof TBA – figured this might still be alive because it’s a TBA. David?
1975 La Mission Haut Brion Graves – my friend remembered his father’s memorable gift
1979 Louis Latour Corton Charlemagne – a punt, high fill, low expectations
1986 Tenuta San Guido Sassicaia – looking forward to this one; let’s see how Super Tuscans age
1988 Dujac Échezeaux Grand Cru – probably seen better days, but should still be good
1995 DRC Échezeaux Grand Cru – forgot my coyness for a moment and, despite the no DRC rule, asked for one of these; my friend said yes, proving that there is a God.
1995 Drouhin Clos de Vougeot – should be good
1995 Leoville-Poyferre St. Julien – pushed by my friend, who can say no?
1996 Château Latour Pauillac – ditto (yawn).
So expect notes on this motley crue (or is it uriah heep?) over the next few weeks. After this orgy of prospective consumption we went to a nearby restaurant, and my friend brought along a 1995 Margaux. Jaded beyond belief, I found fault, even though the bottle was pristine. Will someone please shoot me?
1995 Chateau Margaux Margaux
Vanilla and heat tell me this bottle is none too pleased to be disturbed from its slumber. Tasted blind, I would have guessed Mendoza malbec or cabernet. Of course it’s the latter who would like nothing better than to imitate the former. Same inversion as when I first heard Mahler’s #2: I saw Errol Flynn gallivanting on the high seas and it seemed like Mahler was ripping off Hollywood. Anyway, as the Margaux calms down and gets used to the idea of being in the world, tar and cigar box come to the stage and take a grudging bow. Olives join the fray, framed by medium tannins, good acidity, and a lovely final bitterness. Like a tamed bronco, what started off disjointed and angry ends civilized and elegant. Ragamuffin turns Audrey Hepburn, but it’s still a crummy QPR. If you have any, wait at least another five years.
