The Jakarta Connection (Day Two: Daytime)

Two hours into my 'nap', and I was awakened by a morning call bell in the hotel room. I looked at the time: it was 6 am. I looked around: my room mate was out (he had an early golf game, hence the morning call) and through the window, the sky was barely lightening up. I thought, well, since I had so much issue sleeping last night -- as is always the case the first night in a strange hotel whenever I travel -- I thought I could try to nap an hour or two more before starting out my day. Right?

Wrong.

The mind wouldn't quit. The eyes wouldn't rest. The body, though not particularly sprightly, wasn't exactly tired either. Some half hour later I decided to begin my day, the early morning of which wasn't exactly the most exciting part of this trip. After a leisurely breakfast, a brief SMS exchange with another friend who was arriving later that afternoon, a rather fruitless trip to the hotel newstand, and some idling around, I made my way to meet AS. One of the most eventful things that morning turned out (as I had hoped it) to be meeting his lovely daughter Solaia, a good three months or so after I saw her when she was just one-day-old in the hospital. What a happy, fun-loving, chubby little creature.

A few good conversations later, AS and I went to his office to pick up his wines for lunch. He had been deliberating whether or not to host this lunch for all of us especially after he learned that a few of the boys had made plans to golf that morning. Just shortly before I flew to Jakarta he told me he'd heck it and just do it -- a decision I heartily congratulated -- and told everyone to just 'make it to the lunch'. I mean, why should any Burgnut in the 'right' mind refuse an offer to take part in an organized, fully blind, thematic comparative white burgundy tasting fully sponsored by a cellar whose contents are always beyond reproach? I mean, I know this guy: he may not collect too many white burgs (at least not yet, and I say this purely in relative to the red burgs he had been amassing over time), but for the 'few' (which is not really just a few, if you know what I mean...) I know it couldn't be anything less than exemplary.

Four glasses awaited us at the private room in the restaurant. Once each of the four wines were poured, the first whiff and sniff at the first glass already promised an exhilarating lunch ahead. Now this is gonna be something: a fully academic and hedonistic workout. The guessing format was this -- three variables (vintage, appellation, producer), and one of the variables was not constant. We had to guess what was not constant first, then proceed to determine which wine is which. To put this seemingly simple-sounding quiz across to everyone proved to be more challenging than any one of us would have expected. After several attempts, each of us still took turn to say, "I think wine #3 is the odd one out...", which was of course, not answering the question at all.

The answer, as majority had called it, was that the producer was not constant. Which led on to an enthusiastic discussion as to which vineyard this may belong to. Given the sheer breadth and class the nose of these wines command alone, I knew we're talking grand cru here. The elements of minerality were also tellingly evident. Each of the wines had that elements of ripe stonefruits, albeit quite dissimilarly expressed. The wines were classy and though quite broad (some quite textured), had a good sense of vertical penetration in the midpalate. My hunch told me that I was quite sure this was all 2002 vintage, and given the stony, chalky feel, plus limey acidity found in the majority of the examples, these could only be either from Corton-Charlemagne or a Chablis grand cru, probably Les Clos. I voted for Corton-Charlemagne and wrote off second option, as I jokingly remarked that it'll take quite a bit of effort by our dear friend to pull off four different 2002 bottlings of les Clos, a joke which proved to be my undoing because indeed it was a Chablis Les Clos 2002 tasting!

The first wine was a joy in the nose, giving crystalline berry-like fruits besides the peach, barley and mineral hints. Acidity was, true to terroir, healthy. What set this apart from the rest was its flamboyance: it was very sweet, floral and all-expressive. Michel Laroche Chablis les Clos 2002. Lovely juice to have today although the Chablis' edge wasn't so pronounced as in the other examples.

The second wine evolved tremendously over the duration of the lunch (as so was the third wine). This gave a more taut impression at the nose, masterfully mixing its wood-treatment with buckets of minerality. In the mouth, the initially reticent flavours slowly built up into a penetrating crescendo of attack in the midpalate. Sappy, fresh, sharp, lean and chalky. My favourite wine of the tasting, and all respect to William Fevre this time around. A masterful concoction indeed. I had tried a few of his highly rated 2002 Chablis, including the les Preuses, but none had the same class as this, and certainly not at this level of balance. It is only after this bottle was I convinced by Fevre.

The third one was the funkiest -- and this generated the most discussion on the table. If the second wine was a model of linearity, this had it too plus texture and volume. This started quite meaty and slightly musty, but blew off to give a lime-oil flavours and a highly penetrating middle and a superbly long finish. A complete les Clos with its huge square frame and buckets of minerality. Rene et Vincent Dauvissat Chablis les Clos 2002. Most voted for the day.

The moment AS revealed to us that this was a Les Clos 2002 horizontal, we had been guessing which might be the Raveneau's. The few of us in the table concurred there was no Chablis producer as great as Raveneau -- his wines possess the 'wow' factor that transcend beyond mere thrilling enjoyment into something I can only describe as near-spiritual revelation. There are only a few burgundy houses who deliver this level of consistency of greatness (but this is not a time to indulge in such a conversation...).

Prior to unveiling, some called #3 as the Raveneau, and why not? After all it had the best depth and breadth of all the wines this afternoon. I remarked earlier openly too that I could not detect that Raveneau touch in the nose of any of the wines today and so with a mixture of bafflement and trepidation we unveiled each bottle.

The fourth wine had a distinctly meaty nose, in fact rather flinty and peanut-skin like. Very large in scale, this reminded me of a cru Meursault, judging by top notes of the nose alone. The palate was very substantial, with the acid profile, which was very centric and had a commendable length, proving to (or confusing) everyone that this could be anything but a Meursault. A big wine, with all the components still not together at this point. And given the fact that this was indeed a Raveneau, my conjecture was either this was awkward or was an off-bottle. Given the track record of this producer, I am not inclined to write this wine off, although to be honest, judging from this bottle alone I could not find many reasons for exhilaration, solid materials and quality notwithstanding. Francois Raveneau les Clos 2002.

Whatever became of the wines (which were superb, as you could see) this was the tasting format I fully appreciate. Immediately the levels of participation and attention given to each wine today was far more than I had witnessed in other tastings. I suppose it was a combination of the fact that this was an afternoon tasting (everyone has not depleted their energy for the day), done in a semi-blind-with-a-twist format, and a consistent, terroir-focussed theme. The participants automatically opined about each wine, discussed this, tasted that, rechecked each other's observation, rechecked the wines again, wrote notes, compared one glass to the next, etc. In short: an intense laboratory study cum executive board meeting of the burgundian sort. This IS learning. This IS discovery. A format we all ought to emulate, and one I hope would encourage all my Jakarta friends to repeat amongst themselves -- and one I personally hope to be a part of more often.