Augieland

The Wine Workshop Marcassin Tasting

Helen Turley exists in a weird space in winemaking. She is definitely one of the most influential winemakers in the world, while being the closest thing we have to a traditionalist winemaker in America. She practices classic Burgundian winemaking, encouraging her varietals to be as much as they can be within the terroir of California through torturous practices.  Helen gets every bit of character a grape has to offer and jams all of it into the glass. In the vineyard she limits fruit per vine, plants very densely and lets the fruit get as mature as nature will allow. In the winery she uses natural yeast, new oak, and leaves the juice on the lees after fermentation. The results are wines uniquely stamped to the places they are made while clearly guided by the hand of a person with conviction.

Wednesday night I went to The Wine Workshop tasting of Marcassin wines at the Algonquin hotel and had the opportunity to taste six of her chardonnays from four vineyards, and six pinot noirs from three vineyards. As a result of Helen’s fame and respect, her wines trade at a rather dear price for those of us not on her mailing list (the waiting list for the mailing list is about 5,000 people long, I have been on it for two years and at the time I signed on it was estimated at a 5 years wait) although, to her credit, the prices offered those on the list have always seemed quite fair. So scarcity and price make the opportunity to taste Marcassin wines both vertically and horizontally a seldom occasion.

The reason to jump at such an opportunity when it arises is because these are California wines born of the California earth, and the ripeness achievable buries nuance as such, so they tend to seem uniform to a palate that is drawn to the more obvious subtleties (sic) of the colder parts of the world. While drinking any one of them it is easy to see that, although these are big, boozy, and extracted, they are affected by the place they came from. Tasting one next to another, varying touches can show through the heavy-handed flavor California naturally imparts on its wines and the uniqueness that makes these each special can shine; by sampling vineyard next to vineyard and vintage next to vintage you can see the terroir show through. We had:

Marcassin Chardonnay Three Sisters Vineyards ’01
Nose: butterscotch, ginger, cantaloupe,
Palate: viscous, boozy, rich, long finish, pineapple becoming melon, with citrus notes

Marcassin Chardonnay Upper Barn Alexander Mountain Estate ’01
Nose: tarragon, skunk, ginger, honey, white stones, popcorn
Palate: big, long finish with ginger, stones, glass, and spice cabinet

Marcassin Chardonnay Marcassin Vineyard ’01
Nose: tuille cookies, ginger snaps
Palate: ginger, corn bread, more focused acidity

Marcassin Chardonnay Marcassin Vineyard ’99
Nose: honeysuckle, ginger, tuille cookies, chalk, butter, cashews
Palate: balance and integration fruit to booze to acidity, citrus, guava, and herbs

Marcassin Chardonnay Marcassin Vineyard ’97
Nose: roasted cashews, petrol, apricot kernel, wheat
Palate: tart with orange notes, hugely mouth filling with a long lingering finish

Marcassin Chardonnay Lorenzo Vineyard ’95
Nose: oxidized, butter, honey, marmalade, and peaches
Palate: this wine was clearly not what was intended; it had butter notes and diesel notes but it seemed to be completely botrytiscized. I don’t know whether or not Helen encourages or discourages botrytis in the vineyard (based on all her other practices, I would assume it is allowed to some degree) but the nose on this wine was incredibly like a ’75 d’Yquem. Nothing like the other Lorenzo chards I have had in the past, but hard to call it bad.

Marcassin Pinot Noir Blue Slide Ridge ’01
Nose: slate, smoke, cinnamon, burning brush
Palate: sweet-woody tannins, black cherry fruit

Marcassin Pinot Noir Three Sisters Vineyards ‘01
Nose: boozy, touch of barnyard, blueberry, anise, cut grass
Palate: raspberries

Marcassin Pinot Noir Blue Slide Ridge ‘00
Nose: guava, slate, chrome, chilies, barnyard, cloves
Palate: boozy, sweet fruit, linear tannin, tart acidity, red apples, herbs, ponzu

Marcassin Pinot Noir Marcassin Vineyard ‘00
Nose: funky, raspberries, wood, hung meat, clay, pretzels
Palate: boozy, red apples, juicy red fruit, sweet tannin

Marcassin Pinot Noir Blue Slide Ridge ‘99
Nose: herbs, capsicum, slate, banana
Palate: boozy, raspberries, crushed fruit red apples, sweet tannins

Marcassin Pinot Noir Blue Slide Ridge 98
Nose: boozy, funk, cinnamon, toffee, stones
Palate: boozy, raspberries, black cherry, red apples, sweet tannins

Would you use any of these words to describe a Burgundy? Some. Do you have to describe these wines as Burgandian? Yes, because what they are doing in Burgundy is creating the greatest wine each piece of property will support, and as a result make some of the most pleasing wines out there, as does Helen. If there was some amazing year in which somehow Burgundy got California’s weather they would make the same wine Helen does, they recently came close look at ’02. To argue that hers merit less respect because making them seems easier in her chosen terroir ignores the gallons and gallons of insipid juice with no other character than being Californian all around her. It’s like discounting Madonna’s hugely successful and long career because she is sexy.

Wine Workshop Penfold's Grange Hermitage at Public

“Penfold’s Grange is generally recognized as Australia’s finest red wine…” or at least that’s what the label on the ’83 says. Is smugness forgivable if it is actually based in reality? In a world divided into people who love big extracted hedonistic wines and those that love terroir-driven complexity few people who have tried Grange would disagree that this is a great wine.

The Wine Workshop had a tasting of sixteen vintages of Grange at Public Wednesday night and Bear and I went. Now in theory this should be horrible for me: Grange is one of the examples the boring mass-produced wines of the world are poorly emulating, and Public is a restaurant born of a design team with a chef as an afterthought. In reality, Grange is a great wine well worth emulation and, whether or not he was designed into the place Chef Brad Farmerie is turning out some very tasty and creative food at Public.

Grange is Bear’s favorite wine and time and again he has proven to me that, at least in the ’76 and ’86 vintages, it is undeniably fantastic juice; Public, as well as being a favorite brunch stop (get the yogurt eggs, and a bloody Caesar), knocked my socks off at a StarChefs Event at which Brad served Kangaroo on falafel. The draw of these two things combined was overwhelming, so down we sat in the private space, surrounded by bottles of wine, with about eighteen other hedonists.
Dinner was:

Cured wild boar, Woodside Edith goat’s cheese, Australian salt cured olives, and caper berries

Vintages: 1998, 1997, 1996, 1995 the cure on the boar was noticeably sweet before the wine, but turned more savory, tasting of herbs and juniper after. The cheese was simple, soft, fatty, and mild as far as goat’s milk cheeses go. The olives were meaty and the caper berries were salty and bright. Together these were well chosen flavors for these younger, bolder wines. When doing a vertical of wine it is not always the greatest wine that is the favorite, often it is just the one that shows as unique, which in some cases may be symptomatic of flaws or simply born of a lack of balance. There is also the fact that sometimes one bottle is just better or worse than its siblings. The ’96 was my favorite of this flight. While the ’98 showed chocolate, curry, and cinnamon; the ’97 kirsch, nori and herbs; the ’95 tart raspberries and toro with a decidedly linear acidity, in addition to that great crushed blackberries on leather and tobacco flavor of great Aussie Shiraz; the ’96 showed clove, charcoal and soy, with more definite tannic structure setting it apart.

Grilled Australian lamb fillets on coriander falafel, green pepper relish and lemon tahini sauce

Vintages: 1994, 1992, 1990 apparently lamb pinch-hits for kangaroo in this dish in the off-season. Except for this substitution this was the same dish I had fallen in love with at the StarChefs event and was just as good with its big, bold, assertive flavors, standing toe to toe with this big bold assertive wine. The relish was sweet and sour with notes of curry, the falafel crunch green and light and permeated with the fresh soapy flavors of coriander. The tahini was bright and smooth and the lamb was tender and juicy. In this flight, the ’92 was most pleasing, with cinnamon and fish protein notes. It was so heady it could have been vodka. The 90’s uniqueness was in its steak-juice bloodiness and ’94 showed more eucalyptus (pretty normal for grange) than any of the rest.

Mini duck burgers on miso buns with licorice pickled onions and cassava chips.

Vintages: 1988, 1986, 1983 the little slider was juicy, rare and suffused with cinnamon. The buns were nicely sweet, the licorice onions were interesting, and the cassava chips were so light and flaky you could taste the oil they were cooked in. I found the cinnamon overpowering and the catsup too sweet for the dish but not for the wine. The ’86 was showing mushrooms and minerals while the ’88 had an interesting funk of a rabbit hutch as opposed to a barnyard but the lavender notes and sweet tannins of the ’83 made it stand out of this group. On the whole I found this flight to be at an awkward phase where the balance was off in the direction of alcohol.

Roast New Zealand venison loin, parmesan dumplings, oyster mushrooms and salsa verde.

Vintages: 1982, 1981, 1980 seriously perfect pairings of gamey/earthy, salty/tangy, rich/ light, herbaceous/sanguine, spicy/bright there were flavors all across the spectrum, each pulling something from the wines. The ’82 was my vote for wine of the night: deeply rooted to the ground with notes of barnyard, cherries, celery, red apples and mushrooms, with crazy juicy fruit and sweet tannins on the palate. The ’80 showed mushrooms and anchovies and, sadly, the ’81 was bad, not corked but tainted by pervasive mold (I assume from the cask).

British & Irish Cheeses with mustard fruit and oatcakes

Vintages: 1977, 1976, 1971 Cheeses that ranged in degrees of salt and richness within the world of cheddar flavors. I believe the fruit was kumquat, and the oatcakes were wonderfully soft. The ’77 showed forest notes from mushrooms to detritus as well as river bank notes, the ’76 was gorgeous sweet black tea, cassis and oozy black fruit, but the ’71 was the one drinking best in this group (big cherry notes, perfectly integrated wood, kirsch, and cassis).

With the exception of the ’81, all these bottles were perfect and the food was remarkable. It is hard to imagine a better wine dinner – we got to compare great wine after great wine all teamed with food clearly made by a person familiar with the wines and their capabilities. As good as great wine and food are alone, properly paired they are each better. It’s surprising more people aren’t paying as much attention to understanding this as Chef Farmerie and the Wine Workshop obviously are.

Wine Workshop Vega-Sicilia "Unico" at Jovia

Sixteen vintages of Vega Sicilia served in a private room of Jovia, Josh DeChellis' new restaurant, sounds genius doesn't it? Vega Sicilia is one of the world's most respected (and expensive) wines and DeChellis is the chef of the well respected Sumile who has joined with the owners of Zoe (also well respected) to open Jovia. This dinner brought together very fine pedigrees that promised brilliance.

My past tasting of Vega Sicilia is limited. Going into this tasting I was far more familiar with its legend as "one of the world's greatest wines" and process (very long cask aging followed by even longer bottle aging before release) and grapes (cabernet sauvignon, merlot and tempernillo) and somewhat dubious accolades like "holds its own with the greats of France." The wines were provided by The Wine Workshop part of Acker Merrall, a very reliable local wine retailer and auctioneer, and they all were from the same collection that appeared to be, as represented, a well kept one.

DeChillis has impressed me at food events and at his restaurant Sumile with his Japanese-French fusion cuisine. At Jovia I have been told he is doing New American with Italian influences and receiving good mention as a result. As this menu bore out, though, the intention for this dinner seemed instead to be a nod to the Nuevo Cucina of Spain, as would seem to be a fitting compliment to Spain's most respected wine.

Dinner was:

Octopus cured olives, paprika pickles, potatoes

Vintages: 1994, 1990, 1981: The '94 was bold, spicy and alive. The '81 was best associated with the dish. The wines from the '90's were cocktail wines, good alone but big for the dish. The octopus suffered from poor execution, the chew was too chewy and the crisp was not crispy enough. The flavors were kind of flat, as if a hotel had prepared it for a wedding.

Tagliatelle porcini, ramps, Berkshire sugo

Vintages: 1975, 1973, 1970: The strong one in this grouping was the '70. Very Burgundian in comparison to the others, it had notes of barnyard to go with the earthy, woody aromas, notes of cherries to go with the cassis, and generally was well balanced and harmonious between the lush fruits of the hot-weather cab and the acidity of the tempernillo. The tagliatelle had a nice bite but was otherwise unremarkable, as if we were at an awards ceremony.

Poached duck foie gras mousse

Vintages: 1969, 1968, 1966: The '69 was the strong one in this group, showing much as the '70 had. The '68, which gets huge accolades in wine press, was flat and the '66 was faulty in some way, not corked but smelling of old leather boots from a musty cellar. This dish seemed as if it's recipe had been pulled from a cookbook about the "new food." The duck had had any game it brought to the game leeched out of it by poaching, there were slightly sweet dense pared little turnips and a green cooked well past recognition (which may have been bok choi) and the mousse was actually an espuma, light and airy and very ill-conceived as a pairing to this wine in these vintages, as if someone fresh out of the CIA was doing their first fund-raiser.

Violent hills lamb spring's first vegetables

Vintages: 1965, 1962, 1960: All in all my favorite flight of the evening. These wines were dignified old ladies. They are no doubt starting a decline from where the '69 and '70 are right now, but at the moment they benefit from the subtleties of fading fruit, tannin, acid and wood notes, clearly sophisticated and classy. The lamb was sliced, filled with pepper and herbs, and reformed with caul fat, served on beans and a potato puree. It somehow tasted just as Tetra-min goldfish food smells. The jus that accompanied it had been cooked to the plate rim, I assume by some heat device as if it had waited for the weekend warrior server to get back to the kitchen after the first round of tables were served at a political event.

Torta la serena truffled toast, extramadura Spain

Vintages: 1957, 1955, 1953, 1951: These wines were respectively horrible, horrible, ok in comparison, and dead. The '51 was just shot, the ruby color of the other 15 was gone and the wine was simply lost. It is hard to fairly judge the '53 in comparison. It was nowhere near as bad as the '57 and '55 but it was if the wines wanted to upset us. This dish was just crazy. A fondue of sorts made with an insanely strong Spanish bleu cheese that completely blew out the canned truffle bits that although visible were otherwise undetectable, poured over a piece of toasted-to-the-point-of-dryness cinnamon raisin bread. It was generally agreed that had anyone actually enjoyed the wines in this flight it would have ended the minute this was tasted. The "torta" may have stood next to a few ports and sauternes, but not many.

The only critique I have ever had of Josh is in the drinks served to accompany his food, and that goes on. In this case, I suspect the actual execution of these dishes was left to someone who was operating under the belief that the night was about wine and no one would care how the food went out. In general, what I enjoy most about chef Dechillis' food is his light hand and subtlety, but tonight subtle crossed the line to flavorless (with the exception of dessert).

The wine was of good manifest, and provided by a quite reputable dealer. I don't think the bottles were in any way faulty. It is worth mentioning that the tasting was held while a huge storm front moved through the area, so if you are someone that has observed certain wines and food showing as flat during severe swings in barometric pressure you can easily blame that for the lackluster showing which I am tempted to do, having enjoyed Vega in the past and definitely considering myself among Josh's fandom.

Based on this tasting sampling sixteen of the twenty most highly praised vintages, I think I see where the praise stems from. Vega Sicilia Unico tastes like great Bordeaux, just like it. Back before people used centrifuges, artificial yeasts, and micro-oxygenatation to insure their wines always tasted like '82s, whether the weather was right or not, I am sure this was a good thing to know about, especially in vintages like '68.

It seems that Unico is still very traditionally made, using varying lengths of time in barrel and bottle to insure it is always going to be the best it can be, while the Bordelais it emulates have happily applied new technologies to cut these corners. Sadly, what we are left with is a more expensive version of a readily available commodity. Sure, the '94 was deep, complex and involving, with a bright future, but so is a '96 Mouton and it is only $220 or so a bottle as opposed to $300. I would love to reward Vega for doing things traditionally, but their tradition is that of being the best Spanish copy of Bordeaux. Even though they have been doing it for one hundred years, I would rather drink something entirely born of Spain, and when I want Bordeaux I'll drink it.

vertical of Giacomo Conterno, at Babbo

We (Helmet, Pichon, Magnus, Fox, Xing, and myself) attended a vertical wines of Giacomo Conterno dinner with the wine maker Roberto Conterno at Babbo last night. We had 7 wines spanning the 1990's, each paired with its own course. The Monfortinos were all reserve Barolo, and the Cascinas were all Borolo Cascina Franca.

93 Monfortino
Nose: Stones, black tea, cedar, leather, rose
Palate: Big attack, short finish, lots of tannin
Pairing: Agnolotti. Goat cheese, rabbit and veal-stuffed pillows of pasta, lightly buttered and served to be eaten with fingers from a folded napkin. The cheese brought a pull to the texture, while the seam of the pasta was folded back over itself, creating a dense chew.

90 Cascina
Nose: Tar, creosote, raspberries, burdock
Palate: Leather, stones, great integration
Pairing: Sformato di Castelmagno with Rabbit and Watercress. The rabbit was said to be confit which I imagine involved much olive oil -- one, because it tasted remarkably of olive oil and two, because rabbits aren't very fatty. This dish was truly rich, lightened by the micro watercress.

90 Monfortino
Nose: Roses, forest floor, mushrooms
Palate: Bracing acids, huge tannin
Pairing: Zuppa di Porcini with Poppy Seed "Strichetti." This soup was truly about porcinis. It was made by reconstituting the dried porcinis, chopping and then blending them into vegetable stock with a touch of cream. This was then poured over little bowties that had poppy seeds incorporated into the dough.

97 Cascina
Nose: Tar, creosote, raspberries, fennel
Palate: Black tea, forward tannin, lactic notes
Pairing: Cannelloni with Radicchio and Goat Cheese. Organized, baked and topped with a béchamel

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97 Monfortino
Nose: Raspberries, mint, minerals, mousse, flowers
Palate: Tart, rich, young lactic notes, raspberries

Pairing: "Panchetta Ripiena" with Chanterelles and Thyme. Imagine the joy we experienced when it was explained to us that a piece of pork belly was going to be spread flat, covered with a layer of pancetta, rolled, sliced, fried, and topped with chanterelles that had been sautéed crisp in butter with some thyme. If that doesn't ring in your ears like a beautiful sonnet, I just don't know what to tell you.

95 Monfortino
Nose: Kirsch liqueur, stones, red currants
Palate: Signs of integration, wanton fruit, linear tannic finish
Pairing: Gorgonzola Crostino. A simple piece of bread topped with Gorgonzola, baked and drizzled with black truffle honey. Remember being a kid and topping Triscuts with cheddar and throwing them in the toaster-oven when you had the munchies? That, but with gorgonzola and truffle honey, enough said.

99 Cascina
Nose: Game, raw meat, raspberries
Palate: Lively, hot, it's a monster
Paring: Bonêt alla Piemontese. Reminiscent of a hazelnut studded flan, this was a custard strewn with nuts and topped with crème fraiche.

In a world where everyone is paying lip service to tradition while fiddling around with things to make them appealing to the general American palate, the Giacomo Conterno winery has zero French oak. That means two things: first, these wines want time, and second, there is nothing getting in the way of the terroir showing itself.

It is wonderful how grape selection can affect a wine. The grapes for Monfortino are selected from the same vineyards as the Cascina, yet all the Monfortinos are reminiscent of rose petals and tea, while tar and raspberries are the flavors of Cascina.

All these wines have a long life ahead of them -- I am still not sure the '90 is ready yet, and the '99 was definitely grumpy for having been roused so early. The accepted truth is (and I think we all agree) that 20 years is young for these wines, and there really is no rushing genius. Because only if you have had a perfect Monfortino at the right time can you say “Gaja who?”

Like sex, there is no bad Babbo. There is Babbo-that-doesn't-knock-you-out-and-seems-bad-for-not-being-amazing, but I have yet to have bad Babbo. Also like sex, when Babbo goes perfectly it is so great. Because of the types of wine involved, there was just one dessert on this menu and standing alone it was great. For the first time in six years, I was served non-Coach Farms cheese at the end of the meal and, except for the service of the Agnolotti, I had seen none of these dishes before at any of the Empire's restaurants.

Truly great Babbo is truly inspired Italian food that sticks with the ethos that in Italy you would never use sub-par ingredients to fit a recipe but would adapt your recipe to fit your greatest ingredients. So here in America, what is best, not what is traditional, is served. Maybe the inspiration was a great winemaker; maybe another round of Beard nominations, but without being fussy or familiar this dinner managed to be fantastic.

The Wines of the Northern Rhone, at Hearth

 I went to an evening of the wines of the northern Rhone at Hearth on Monday. The tasting was planned and run by owner/beverage guru, Paul Grieco, and chef/owner Marco Canora orchestrated the food. Paul acted as host, discussing the wines, the grapes, the vintages, the history of the area, and his thoughts regarding pairing.

The tasting started with a glass of dry sherry in the bar and then we all moved into the dining area adjacent to the open kitchen, which was set up with two large tables for about 10-12 people each. Being as this was more a wine-themed dinner than a wine tasting I will comment on the pairings as well as give my palate and nose notes for each wine.

Cornas, Robert Michel, '85

Nose: Blueberry, raspberry, soy, miso, lavender, and minerals

Palate: Soft, elegant, blueberry, velvety harmony

Pairing: BROOK TROUT with Lentils, Smoked Razor Clams and a Red Wine Sauce. The trout, a strong fish, was made more robust by the red wine sauce, while ingredients like thyme and the smoked clam drew out elements of this rather linear wine. The age of the wine obviously softened any edges that it may have had in the past and it might have disappeared next to the heartier dishes you would instinctively pair with younger Cornas.

Saint Joseph, 420 nuits, Alain Paret, '01

Nose: Blueberries, raspberries, white pepper, mint

Palate: Big acidic attack, a sacchariny finish, simple

Côte-Rôtie, Robert Jasmin, '96 from magnum

Nose: Roasted meats, mint, barnyard, wood

Palate: Tart, raspberries, lively acids

Pairing: DUCK PAPPARDELLE The heartiness of the duck ragout was enhanced by the flavors of these two wines, while the acids they both had in common cut the dish's richness.

Crozes-Hermitage, Domaine Combier, '04

Nose: Perfume, hawthorn, verbena, violets, white pepper, and lavender

Palate: Crushed red fruit, tobacco, artificially sweet mid-palate, a slutty red

Hermitage, Les Dionniers, Fayolle, '01

Nose: Green herbs, lavender, crushed berries, fennel, and black tea

Palate: Green notes, elegant, well structured red fruit

Pairing: ROASTED LOIN OF VENISON with Savoy Cabbage, Shallot marmalade and potatoes Boulangére. The brilliance of this dish was the shallot marmalade. Due to its leanness, there is a huge risk in the preparation of venison of overcooking it but, as with all roasted meats, it benefits from deep carmelization, making the line between great and dead thin. In this case, the marmalade brought such hearty roasted flavors of carmelization there was no need to sear the loin. The end result showed the depth of the roasted game, while maintaining the perfect texture to play with the velvety feel of these two wines, and the burnt sugar flavors of the dish let the fruit in the wines shine.

LAVENDER PANNA COTTA

Condrieu Vandage Tardive, Les Ayguets, Yves Cuilleron, '04

Nose: White flowers, flan, water chestnut, marzipan, chilies and butter cookies

Palate: Butter cookies, clean acids, hints of boytrytis, real sweetness while remaining on the refreshing side.

Pairing: PEAR ALMOND FINANCIER with Orange Vanilla Sabayon. A direct line can be drawn between the wine's flavors and the dessert's. Without getting cloying, both stood side-by-side and each brought out depth from the other.

My favorite thing to declare to a cork dork is that there is no red that goes with lobster. When someone does rise to the challenge and make a good pairing, it is so wonderful to be proven wrong. It is seldom, however, that someone finds a red to put with fish that pairs so well that I can't think of a white that would have been better. This happened in course one, so we were really off and running here as far as my excitement goes.

I like the exercise of pure wine tasting as a way to build up one's experience to put wine exactly where it belongs, with food. Real, pure wine tasting could never happen in Hearth: the lighting is bad for it, the room is alive, and the kitchen is open, beckoning you to eat Marco's creations and adding all kinds of smells to the place. As a result, Paul plays to the strengths he has played to since I first met him back at Gramercy, the joys of good food well paired with good wine.

If you don't already know Hearth, I definitely think it is worth a visit. If you are already familiar with the restaurant and its sensibilities work in line with yours (as they do mine) I can't imagine a better wine dinner. The entire experience jibed perfectly with the price. Great wines methodically paired with great food, a communal table near an open kitchen, a group of hedonists gathered round a learned professional, appreciating the joy that is good juice: haven't had a better Monday in a while.

vintage, region tasting Burgundy '02 2.2

’02 Burgundies Part 2 took place Thursday night at EWS, and this time we drank from the northernmost half of northern Burgundy. The wines were tasted blind, having been encased in brown paper bags prior to our arrival; the notes that follow were, as always, scratched down before the labels were revealed.

In the order we tasted they were:

1.      Clos de la Roche, Hubert Lignier

·         Nose: Currants, cinnamon, blue fruit, minerals, charcoal ash, roasted red apples

·         Palate: Sharp edges, huge acids

2.      Charmes Chambertin  “Cuvée de Tres Vielles Vignes” Joseph Roty

·         Nose: Lavender, boozy, Indian spice, medicinal spearmint

·         Palate: Greenish tannins, hot, Huge acids, salami

3.      Mazoyeres-Chambertin “Vieilles Vignes” Henri Perrot-Minot:

·         Nose: Horseshit, rotting meat, cheese funk, roasted game, cardamom, caraway, creosote

·         Palatte: Red fruit, dried flowers, hot, with sharply angled acids

4.      Charmes-Chambertin, Claude Dugat:

·         Nose: Latex paint, roses, instant cereal, chemicals, pretty simple

·         Palate: Spicy, gripping mid-palate, well defined acidity 

5.      Clos de la Roche “Cuvée Vielles Vignes,” Domaine Ponsot: 

·         Nose: Indian spices, cod liver oil, General Tso’s chicken, melon rind, raspberries, caraway 

·         Palate: Unripe tannin, red apple skin 

6.      Clos de Tart, Mommessin: 

·         Nose: Latex paint, cherry, modeling clay, stones 

·         Palate: sweet juicy cherries, smoky 

7.      Chambertin Clos de Beze, Vincent Girardin 

·         Nose: Camphor, cherry 

·         Palate: nice ripe fruits, lyches, herbs

8.      Chambertin Clos de Beze, Armand Rousseau: 

·         Nose: Latex paint, cherry liqueur 

·         Palate: Oolong tea, heavily extracted, green olives, black plums 

9.      Charemes-Chambetin, Geantet-Pansiot: 

·         Nose: Elegant, tea with lemon and honey 

·         Palate: Elegant, wholewheat bread, yeasts, cherry 

10.  Charemes-Chambetin, Bernard Dugat-Py: 

·         Nose:  Creosote, game, blood, chocolate 

·         Palate:  bracing acids, greeness 

11.  Close de la Roche “Vieilles Vignes,” Dominique Laurent: 

·         Nose: Fennel liqueur, tight and closed 

·         Palate: Supple, cellar, cinnamon, confections, a nervous wine 

12.  Charemes-Chambetin, Dupont Tisserandot: 

·         Nose: Chocolate, sharpened pencils 

·         Palate: Tight focus, deep extraction, boozy, way too slutty to be Burgundy 

In the end I ranked the number 3 wine, Mazoyeres-Chambertin “Vieilles Vignes” by Henri Perrot-Minot, tops. My second favorite was number 9, Charemes-Chambetin, by Geantet-Pansiot, and my third favorite was number 2, the Charmes Chambertin  “Cuvée de Tres Vielles Vignes” by Joseph Roty. The group consensus was 8, 11, and 3.

We tasted in three rounds of four, and my brain seemed to tie them up for common notes. The first group were mostly about the acids but had real depth in the nose, except for the Charmes-Chambertin by Claude Dugat, which lacked complexity due to its extraction and oak. The second set was in better harmony than the first. They were much more approachable at this point in their evolution, but without the volatile acids to push the bouquets they seemed to lack in comparison to the first ones. The third group was where I saw the most promise, but no one stood out as probably great. Once the tasting was over, I ate some of the Brie that EWS provides and tasted 1-4 and 9-12 again. All greatly benefited from the big sloppy fat of the cheese taming the acids.

There was a lot of discussion amongst the group as to whether these would age well, and I think 1-4 and 8-12 definitely will, once the acidity drops back behind the fruit a little. The group’s consensus was that 5-8 had the most potential but, in my humble and short experience, if it is in harmony and drinking well, drink it, if it isn’t wait. The process is that, as time passes, things fall out. Nothing ever comes to the front, it just stays while other things go. 

What I do know is that most of the great wines I have ever had were Burgundies older then 30 years, so asking whether these will last is either mental masturbation or a doubt in the newer, super-extracted approach to wine making. In the first case, that’s the fun of wine. In the second, those of us that run counter to the market in our preferences get to choose their wines in the bottom third of the price range and rest easy there is potential, because for 200 years people have been afraid of the out-of-balance young burgundies, but it seems to easy to me if it tastes good now drink it now and it really isn’t worth the money, if it tastes like all the things that taste good in an old burgundy but is out of balance let it get old what’s the worse that could happen you end up with a ‘34 DRC or a ’78 Bon Mares?

vintage, region tasting '02 burgundy 2.1

2002 Red Burgundies: The Grand Crus Part I was last night's EWS tasting. As always, it was held at the Warwick Hotel's conference room with a nice sized crowd for tasting, about forty. We tasted blind, all the bottles safely hidden in brown lunch bags and numbered well before our arrival. I have listed the wines in the order they were tasted.

Bonnes-Mares, Lucien Le Moine:

• Nose: Cinnamon, fennel seeds, moth balls, port, anise liqueur
• Palate: Long finish, blueberries, tart, young tannins

Musigny, "Cuvée Vielles Vignés." Comte de Voüé:

• Nose: Blueberries, cinnamon, black stones, anise cookies
• Palate: Acidic, minerals, sharp tannin, black stones, beginnings of harmony

Grands Echezeaux, Domaine de la Romanée-Conti:

• Nose: Raspberries, green notes, wisteria vines, minerals, game, cherry
• Palate: Fresh red fruit and green tannin

Corton-Bressandes, Follin-Arbelet:

• Nose: Red currant, raspberry, cranberry, cherry), minerals, barnyard
• Palate: Big red fruit, simple, young tannins

Romanée-St. Vivant, Leroy:

• Nose: Oak, Barnyard, toasted eel-skin, game, cherry
• Palate: Tart, cinnamon, clove, silky tannins

La Romanée, Bouchard:

• Nose: Minerals, chlorinated water, tight
• Palate: Good acidic spine, camphor, greens

Romanée-St. Vivant " Cuvée Vielles Vignés,"Dominique Laurent:

• Nose: Popcorn, epoxy, creosote, barnyard funk, hanging game
• Palate: Tart cherry, creosote, long lasting firm tannins, game

Clos Vougeot, "Musigni" Gros Frere et Soeur:

• Nose: Game, charcoal, horseshit, diesel, mushrooms, iron
• Palate: Firm and round, game, cherries

Romané St. Vivant, Jean-Jacques Confuron:

• Nose: Game, cherry candy, raspberries, cinnamon
• Palate: Zippy, ethanol, anise liqueur, great mature tannins

Musigny, Drouhin:

• Nose: Nutmeg, spice cake, Grand Marnier, yellow chartreuse, amaro, cherry
• Palate: Focused red fruits, soft tannins

Clos Vougeot, Jacques Prieur:

• Nose: Port, minerals, autumn spices, cherries
• Palate: Dense, raspberries, minerals

Bonne-Mares, Georges Roumier:

• Nose: Cedar, raspberries, game, glass, pet
• Palate: Crushed red fruit, firm tannins, defined acidity

Bonne-Mares, Robert Groffier:

• Nose: Glue, hung meat, lilac, horseshit, roasted salted game, Riesling
• Palate: Oily, rich, irony, cherries, smoke

The best thing about Burgundy is it keeps you guessing. More than the smells I encountered, the fun of this tasting was in knowing there was a name for the thing I was smelling and, right before I came to it, having to stop because my lungs filled up, then going back to it only to find a new smell had taken its place.

Burgundy is beautiful, elusive, sexy and as funky as George Clinton. My favorites smell of cherries wrapped in horseshit with Slim Jims on the side when they first open. Then they go all over the place. I've been told this doesn't appeal to everyone. If so, I wish less people would buy them so the prices would come down.

All these wines were wonderful. Not a dud in the lot. As should be expected from grand cru burgundy, trying to declare a best would be like trying to capture lightning -- their whole mission in life is to change constantly. What I will tell you is that last night, in that room, with those thirteen bottles, in that company, during that weather, in that sweater, with that lighting, I thought that the Bonne-Mares, Georges Roumier, showed best, closely followed by, Bonne-Mares, Robert Groffier, and Romanée-St. Vivant "Cuvée Vielles Vignés," Dominique Laurent.

After a very close collective vote, with every bottle making a showing, the group decided the Romanée-St. Vivant "Cuvée Vielles Vignés," Dominique Laurent was the runaway winner, with Romanée-St. Vivant, Leroy, and Bonne-Mares, Robert Groffier close together in second and third. What's that tell you? Nothing, and that's the glory of good burgundy. Enjoy!