WTN: 1995 Chateau St. Jean Cinq Cépages

1995 Chateau St. Jean Cabernet Sauvignon Cinq Cépages Sonoma County 14.3%
Found a lone bottle of this in my sister's cellar, a throwback from when she and her husband lived in Washington DC ten years ago, and got her to let me open it. Says Cabernet Sauvignon prominently on the front but the back label says it's blended with Cab Franc, Merlot, Malbec and Petit Verdot (hence the cing cépages subtitle). Very aromatic, with leather, cigarbox and plums. Satisfying mouth weight. Lively acidity, balanced by attractive fruit. Shows the dilly notes of American oak, attractively so. Tastes like an appealing cross between an "old style" Argentine Bdx blend (like Weinert or Bodegas Lopez) and a traditional Rioja. Perhaps a touch too sweet, but that comes across as sunny friendliness. A lovely surprise, free of any point chasing excess, and drinking very well now.

[David M. Bueker]

Back in the day just prior to the wine being anointed "Wine of the year" (1996 vintage), shortly after which the wheels came off.

One morning in the mid '90s I was leaving Sonoma to drive over to Mendocino for some wine tasting in the Anderson Valley. It was just after 9 o'clock but driving by Chateau St. Jean I noticed that the tasting room had just opened. Normally it was the kind of large, corporate place that I was avoiding, but at that hour I thought it might be worth a try. Working the tasting room was a young, jovial Frenchman who was a visting winemaker along with a dour Texan couple (man with the stereotypical ten gallon hat and bolo tie).

The taster wanted to start the morning off by popping the corks on some sparking wines and poured us a generous glass, saying it was the best way to start off the day. I agreed and the Texans declined, stating that they were only interested in buying a case of the Robert Young Chard. He rang them up, they ran out with their prize, and we went through a pretty long and comprehensive lineup, with various ups and downs. I couldn't try eveything, so I asked him what I shouldn't miss. He pointed to a bin of wine labeled 'Special $14.95', which turned out to be the 1994 (IIRC) Cinq Cepages. From the way he described it it wasn't meant to be a big deal at that time (some of the other reds were more ambitiously priced) but we both agreed that it was a nicely balanced wine and i happily left with some. Later on, I guess it was WS that gave it a wine of the year award (is that correct, David?), the price skyrocketed and it became an emblematic object of hate to some....

[David M. Bueker]

Wine Spectator bestowed the "wine of the year" award on the 1996 version of Cinq Cepages. The price more than doubled less than 30 seconds later. Cinq Cepages remained overpriced for several vintages thereafter, but has settled back to something slightly more reasonable (around $40) lately. Unfortunately that pleasing balance of the early-mid '90s version is gone, replaced with standard Cali-goop.

Laura and I visited Chateau St. Jean in 1998, and had a wonderful, private tasting and tour.

Unfortunately that pleasing balance of the early-mid '90s version is gone, replaced with standard Cali-goop.

Indeed, it was so anti-stereotype that, even without knowing anything about it, I had an intuition that I was drinking a last of the mohicans sort of wine, the kind that could conceivably had done well at a judgment of paris tasting. One of the things that made me think of old style Argentine bordelais blends.

Wine Spectator bestowed the "wine of the year" award on the 1996 version of Cinq Cepages. The price more than doubled less than 30 seconds later. Cinq Cepages remained overpriced for several vintages thereafter, but has settled back to something slightly more reasonable (around $40) lately. Unfortunately that pleasing balance of the early-mid '90s version is gone, replaced with standard Cali-goop.

Laura and I visited Chateau St. Jean in 1998, and had a wonderful, private tasting and tour.

I’m not a good judge because I have never appreciated a California cab blend. But I got suckered in with that Wine Spectator cover and bought three bottles. I opened two of them about three years apart and dumped both down the drain. I posted this once before, but redundancy doesn’t bother me, if it is mine: When I was visiting Maine in 2001, I stopped at a wine shop in Wells and the proprietor, with no prompt from me, starting waxing dewy-eyed about his holy grail: 1996 Cinq Cepages, and how he would trade any bottle in his store for one. He had some decent Bordeaux; so, without saying anything, I planned to walk in with my third bottle the next year. Mostly just to see him light up.

My wife and I however purchased a camp on a mountain lake in 2002, and from that time on pretty much went there anytime we had time. We are getting close to driving to Maine again for the variety, but I suspect that when we finally do, the guy will either be dead or will have sold the store. Nevertheless, the silly little pipeau sticks with me. Everything is beautiful to somebody.