Littorai 2006 (which are all great), and that's not all...!

We figured that the bottles we received from Littorai have rested enough since its arrival two weeks ago. And so with the opportune arrival of our Indonesian partner in town plus two other wine-loving friends, we decided it was time to uncork a selection of the Littorai wines over dinner last night at A.K.'s place.

I have always found vertical and horizontal tastings instructive, and so for the first round I thought it would be beneficial to taste through a selection of the 2006 horizontally, all with the exception of one 'generic', i.e., non-vineyard-designated 2007 Sonoma Pinot Noir. The comparative older bottles will be saved for another occasion, hopefully some time soon.

Domaine Vacheron's 2006 Sancerre "Les Romains" preceded the Littorai chardonnay to accompany the salad. I've been in the kitchen for more than an hour by now -- and we were still waiting for A.S. and C.L. to arrive -- so any crisp and chilled beverage was not only welcome, it was necessary. And this wine stood up to task admirably. Despite the pronounced acidic and sweet vinegar notes of the dressing, this wine held more than its own. Cool candied lemons and fresh cut grass on the nose and a voluminous, palate-saturating grapefruit coulis flavors asserted itself in the mouth. Slight hints of peanut skins and spiciness due to the oak used, but this could not (and should not anyway) dominate the freshness and intensity of the Sauvignon grape. Delicious stuff with plenty of life ahead.

I went back to the kitchen to ready the pasta and while waiting my partner A.K. could not help resist pouring himself the 2006 Chardonnay "Charles Heintz Vineyard". I saw him sticking his nose inside his glass and smiled. He took a sip and told me I should hurry and try it. Well, not until the pasta is ready, Brother! Fortunately it was fresh pasta, so the distance between my curiosity and tasting the wine was thankfully shortened (5 minutes was all it took).

Admittedly before dinner I had harbored more excitement regarding the Littorai's chardonnays than its pinots. It was, well, just personal. With all the dining and cooking in Singapore's tropical weather, I had taken a slight preference for whites to reds lately: they are just more compatible and versatile with whatever I tend to eat. But then again I am known as the 'Burghead', so no matter what I could never disown my inner pinot tendencies.

The Heintz chardonnay had a ripe yellow fruits nose with warm hints of smoke and spices, enlivened by a touch of talcum powder. This is, make no mistake, a true blue Californian chardonnay, and a proud one at that. However what it did not share with its brethren was a rarely found sense of restraint and balance. Fresh melon and pear fruits with a buttery texture greeted the palate, and although quite fat in texture, this had an uncanny mineral streak somewhere in between and carried no trace of heat -- something I am (over)sensitive to. Although not particularly well endowed with natural fruit concentration nor steely acid backbone, everything was all in the right place in the right amount. A well balanced and unpretentious chardonnay. A lovely drink I can savour all night long.

The 2007 Pinot Noir "Sonoma Coast" introduced itself with a very pretty and high-toned nose of crushed blackberries, cranberries and a hint of cola. Fresh and bracing on the attack, and had a creamy almost candied appeal in the mouth yet despite the lively acidity, the insufficient natural intensity made it finish off really quickly at the back-end. Pleasant and easygoing, this will be best appreciated in the company of food. True to form, this was also the wine that dissipated the most quickly during the night with fatigue setting in far sooner than the other bottles.

We moved on quickly to the three vineyard-designated 2006 pinot bottlings, and things got pretty interesting, especially as we came back to them over and again throughout the evening and discussed the character and virtues of each one.

After the straightforward 2007 Sonoma Coast, the nose of the 2006 Pinot Noir "Hirsch Vineyard" was markedly different. Immediately more intense, flamboyant and confident, candied aromas of raspberries and slight hint of cola. The attack was sweet and the fruits high-toned. At times this gave a minor impression of liqueur-like sweetness, with a good lift and moderate inner-mouth perfume. Very accessible and immediately likable, but somewhat began to lose some grip some two hours or so later.

The 2006 Pinot Noir "Roman" was an altogether a different animal. Compared to the Hirsch which was singing happily, the Roman was more serious and muscular. Very earthy and meaty nose was yet reticent at this point, but the hints of smoke, flint, brown spices, herbs and roasted coffee beans peeked through with some persistent coaxing. No surprises in the mouth either: darker (purple and blue) fruits, with an enticing, distinct hint of blueberries, dark chocolate and licorice. Curiously, for something this ripe and muscular, this was not at all low-toned. In fact, the nose of this wine evolved the most throughout the night, and it was the most steadily improving wine as it sat in the open bottle throughout the four hours or so we spent tasting the wines. In my opinion, the most decidedly Burgundian nose must go to the Roman as it combines well delineated deeply pitched dark fruits with meatier, gamier complicating nuances which some Burgundian terroirs tend to impart (Pommard, Vougeot, even Bonnes-Mares came to mind). A very focused and impressive pinot noir of character. I have to agree with A.S. this was the most 'charactersome' wine of the night. Yes, I like!

In the quick taste-through where I had to decide how to line up the pinots earlier on, I felt that "The Haven Vineyard" might well be the most complete and well-rounded of the featured pinot noirs. Going into the tasting proper the impression was largely unchanged. After the Roman, the Haven was, no doubt, more highly pitched in the nose and flavors comparatively. In a way it was more similar to the Hirsch, probably testament to the same region they both came from. Complex, briary aromas mixing wild berries, earth, flint and mineral notes. The entry on the palate is sweet and persistent, with candied red and black fruits mix, pushed along with a good backbone energy giving an impressive sense of volume in the mouth. Still I had a nagging impression that the wine had not yet come together at this point because it felt somewhat casual and was lacking the thrust and grip at this point -- something I noted the Roman did not lack in spite of the latter's brooding reticence. However there was no doubt that in terms of overall composition, this was the most complete wine for the night, as it had more of everything in more places. A.K. loved this wine immediately, noting the complexity and elegant posture the wine commands. A.S. agreed with me that this was the most complete wine but noted the residual sweetness which marked the finish. Given my lack of experience with this wine, assuming this was not an odd case of bottle variation, I could only predict that this were but a temporary settling-down period for the wine and it would thereafter come together and become more tautly and seamlessly integrated with a little more bottle age.

Another pinot noir was opened to provide a comparative perspective to the fine Littorai pinots we just had. A.K. cracked open his personal bottle of a 2002 Calera Mt. Harlan "Mills Vineyard". Interesting is the word that I would use on this wine. It was a sound pinot, with a good varietal character. But in contrast to the preceding Littorai pinots, it had less energy, clarity, definition and a lightness of touch. It was also decidedly more woody and lower pitched. The flavors were dominated by darker fruits, coffee and chocolates, and a meaty, dusty finish.

I asked around the table of what they thought of the wines overall. Almost unanimously everyone said that the Littorai are varietally typical wines, unpretentious of where it is from, but cut with a cloth of elegance and understatement uncommonly found amongst its peers. Although quite ripe and sporting a degree or a degree-and-a-half of alcohol compared to a typical burgundy, there was no touch of heat nor flabby surmaturité flavors. Ripe yes, overripe no. Accessible yes, but upside potential for aging they are not lacking too. It was strange that just as when I was emphasizing the point of these wines being varietally accurate, A.S. mentioned that just recently he tasted a selection of "top" Californian pinot noirs which, when served blind, he actually thought they were Californian syrahs! Now this statement came from a person who, in spite of his definite old-world inclinations, is above all an acute (and astute) taster -- he rarely gets a terroir wrong, let alone grape varietal. I shook my head in sad agreement and I said, "Man, that was PRECISELY what I thought the last time I attended a major 'cult' Californian Pinot Noir tasting! I guess things haven't changed much, have they?" Interestingly some of those cult pinots sported an alcohol level not necessarily overwhelmingly higher than some of the Littorais tonight, so the ultimate question that set the two camps apart is this: does it have BALANCE? Tonight the case was clearly supported. Irrespective of what one reads on the label, the proof is ultimately in the wine. A respectfully crafted wine from a suitable terroir can achieve balance. I think the Littorai wines tonight showed this attribute quite clearly. Those which tasted like syrahs did not.

Four hours had passed, but the night had to continue with one last bottle. These days there would be no vinous gathering without champagne. In any case the group badly wanted to taste a prestige cuvée from Philipponnat, the most recent vintage 1999 of "Clos des Goisses". The "Clos des Goisses" site is one of the foremost champagnes which, thankfully, up to now is still relatively undervalued. It is planted with 70% pinot noir and 30% chardonnay, on very steep slopes near the river. It is often the ripest site in all of Champagne, and hence tend to carry the highest level of alcohol. The 1999 "Clos des Goisses" sports a 13% alcohol content, not at all common for champagnes, but you wouldn't know. A blend of 65% pinot noir and 35% chardonnay, this got our table abuzz with praises. Very reticent, almost aloof nose which upon patient coaxing revealed hints of lime peel and crushed rocks, all elevated at the highest pitch. Initially I thought this smelled like a stainless-steel-fermented Chablis grand cru less half the weight (as if such a Chablis has any noticeable weight to begin with, but you get my point here). The wine was airy in the nose and in the mouth, with so much latent energy and ripeness it was quite unlike anything I've ever tasted before, and added to that a shadowy presence of gentle flowery perfume. This became a new lesson of understatement and elegance for champagnes and still wines to me. Endless, gentle and precise finish that seemed razor-sharp yet never put any raw pressure to the palate. Quite ethereal, and as good an example as any 1999 champagnes I have ever tasted.

1998 Musigny "++" @ Miele House, Jakarta

When my buddy AS called me to tell me he was going to host a 1998 Musigny horizontal I was somehow not surprised because that is the kind of tasting I expected from this guy. After all he's always up to something trying to pull off some of the cleverest and craziest tasting themes. But as I put down the phone and recalled the line up he was preparing, I suddenly realised this would be one heck of a tasting, especially when considering all the 1998 Musignys would have come from his cellar save for one bottle. That in itself is quite a feat of collecting diligence and not to mention generosity. Minutes later, I was clicking away online and booking myself a ticket. To Jakarta, please!

Indonesia, with its restrictive alcohol import laws and murky regulations for just about anything that requires customs and immigration clearance, seems quite an unlikely place where the world's foremost wines may on occasions be showcased. Still, some of my most memorable tastings actually took place in Jakarta, this vast nation's capital and economic epicentre. The sophistication level of the wine community I have met is not only world class, it is enviably pretty much in the league of creme de la creme. Perhaps it is the fact that it is already so difficult to bring wines into the country, that the general mentality has been to just go all out for the top stuff since they have to go through the same trouble anyway. A perfectly understandable attitude given the circumstances if you ask me.

Still the city's select groups of crazy winos are a painstakingly discreet bunch. The 'showcase' of the finest wines are most of the time a private, small-group affair. I have known of impromptu lunches where Le Pin, Petrus, first growths of the fifties and sixties, Henri Jayer's Echezeaux and Cros Parantoux, Coche Dury's Corton Charlemagnes... were regularly shared with joyful abandon but savoured with passionate respect by these winos. And we are not even talking about organized tastings yet!

Many of my most privileged wine tastings took place in the Miele House in Jakarta. Tasting at the Miele House is always a meticulously executed exercise with the spotlight on the wines alone. As a matter of fact, this is the same spirit we try to emulate when we conceptualised Artisan Cellars' showroom space. And the tasting format we choose also follows the same practice in the Miele House: one wine in one glass (so we can savour its development for as long as the tasting lasts), cool serving temperature and faultlessly bright lights. Every tasting there is an occasion to look forward to.

There are countless figures of speech about the wines of Musigny, as well as notable quotes from prominent characters who waxed lyrical over the virtues and beauty of a glass of Musigny. To many a glass of Musigny is the epitome of the sublime seduction of burgundy. Too many wine writers ascribe the highest praises for the wine of this land, some even going as far as arguing that this may be the most gifted piece of dirt throughout Côte d'Or, producing wines that combine profound power, exquisite delicacy, supreme complexity and irreproachable finesse. I for one, in the spirit of good conscience, cannot possibly disagree with the lofty praises sung for the wines of Musigny because many of the most intoxicating and ravishing wines I had tasted happen to bear this vineyard's label on them. This is a feat that cannot be underestimated considering that this grand cru (a) is not a terribly small parcel of land, by burgundy's standards at least, (b) is tended by more than just a handful of wine producers and (c) churns out consistently top performances relative to the vintage, year after year. In my view, the grand cru Musigny is the most gifted non-monopole (i.e., not single domaine owned) terroir for red burgundies, a vineyard perfectly capable of (and have often proved itself to) producing red wines that are aristocratic, complete and evocative of extreme passion. In fact, the genius of Musigny is not only the collective opinion of burgundy fanatics and expert wine aficionados. Domaines who produce Musigny almost always consider their Musigny as the class of their cellar. All these observations cannot be a mere coincidence.

The Musigny grand cru consists of 10.7 ha of land and in recent record these are the modern day domaines that make its wine: Comte de Vogüé, J. F. Mugnier, Jacques Prieur, Joseph Drouhin, Leroy, de la Vougeraie, Louis Jadot, Drouhin-Laroze, Roumier, Dufouleur Frères, Christian Confuron, Faiveley and Monthelie-Douhairet-Porcheret. The grand cru can be subdivided further into three subclimats: Les Musigny, Les Petits-Musigny and a late addition of an adjoining parcel of the premier cru La Combe d'Orveau (since 1936). Comte de Vogüé is the largest owner of Musigny, controlling about 70% of the total land which includes the monopoly of Les-Petits-Musigny subclimat. Jacques Prieur owns the La Combe d'Orveau subclimat.

The 1998 vintage for red burgundies was first received with mixed reactions by the wine press. One famous American wine publication totally wrote off the vintage, refusing to review wines from this vintage, which, in my opinion, is a gross and an unnecessarily silly mistake. A few others were cautious, and only one (Allen Meadows) was pretty upbeat. As it turned out, like many aspects of judging and appreciating Burgundy, the vintage went through awkward stages of development especially in the beginning as it started out rather austere before it stabilised and eases itself off as a nicely rounded red burgundy vintage overall, albeit not without proviso. One has to always remember that the 1998 vintage was not a generously blessed vintage by any measure, and only with the best producers can one find top quality. But when one encounters a good 1998, they would be gratified by its wines: concentrated, harmonious, pure burgundies many of which are, surprisingly, drinking quite well already. What's more these wines would enjoy a relatively long plateau at its peak. To my observation it is also a vintage where Chambolle-Musigny as an appellation shone above the others as they tend not to be plagued by a drying or sometimes unclean finish which may appear in many of its neighbours' wines.

When we arrived at the Miele House earlier that evening, the table was already set with eight burgundy glasses each seat, in two rows of four, corresponding to the two flights that the wine would be served. Just before we sat down, a lone glass was added to the eight for the apéritif white wine, served blind. I was seated next to TA, one of the most serious and attentive Indonesian taster I've ever met, and NP, a burgundian winemaker whose favourite wine is – without question and as unabashedly declared by himself – Musigny. The Musigny wine is also incidentally one that he has yet to make in spite of the impressive array of top grand crus he has been producing ever since he started making wines.

The white wine apéritif was very ripe and heady with lemon-infused, buttery, wild-yeast fermentation aromas of popcorn-oil as well as some charred toast. Yet in the mouth this wine displayed finesse and delicacy in spite of an energetic thrust and an oily texture. This had to be a Puligny grand cru, I thought. Immensely forceful, this wine finished with an almost tannic structure. Quite alcoholic for an '04 but finished, true-to-form, with a whiplash of malic acidity. Personally I would have preferred a more delicate and linear style, but there is no denying that this is a tour-de-force representation of the chardonnay grapes the like of which cannot be found outside of the best sites in Côte-de-Beaune. This was revealed to be 2004 Louis Jadot, Chevalier-Montrachet "les Demoiselles" (93 points). A lovely start to the evening.

The first flight's four wines were now ready to be tasted. The 1998 Jacques Prieur, Musigny carried off a high-toned, macerated cherries nose with citric hints that reminded me of vitamin-C tablets – rather pretty actually. The wine was fleshy and quite spirit-like. Although still quite sturdy, my trouble with this wine was that it lacked immediate natural sweetness one expects from the terroir. Unfortunately after a little bit of airing, the wine showed signs of tiring and eventually put on a slightly medicinal and herbaceous overtone. There must be better bottles than this because when I first tasted this wine not long after it was released what I tasted then should not have lead to what I was tasting tonight... (88? points).

Like many other '98 red burgundies, 1998 Joseph Drouhin, Musigny already began to give off delicious truffley secondary top-notes floating over elegantly scented blackberries. This came across immediately sweeter and as possessing a lot more volume than the Prieur bottling earlier. Still, there was a sense of slight wooly mouthfeel around the edges (and I noted the same for their 1999 and I don't consider this a flaw, by the way.) Quite a fine Musigny that is just missing out on the final finesse factor. Interestingly, this evolved to continue to give off floral aromatic hints, turning gentler, sweeter and more alluring. Maturing now already and a very pretty wine (91 points).

1998 Louis Jadot, Musigny took the flight into a different space. It started out with a slight reduction on the nose which gave way to smoke and meat aromas. I found this still sullen and quite hard to assess, but lurking underneath the shell was a muscular rendition of this famous terroir. In the mouth this wine played out its earlier impression consistently, delivering powerful flavours full of dry extracts and intense sweetness, driven by an immense acid-backbone energy. Finished off with rather dusty and muscular tannins. This baby still needed a lot more time, because as the night progressed, the wine turned more integrated and oilier in texture with exotic hints of bacon-fat. A brooding, punch-in-the-gut Musigny that remained cool and collected in spite of all the power (92+ points).

I approached the wine with a slight apprehension. It was a privilege, no matter how one looks at it, to be able to enjoy a bottle out of approximately 125 bottles produced each year of the 1998 Faiveley, Musigny. The only worry I had was that it might be extremely unfriendly at this stage like many other youthful Faiveleys I've had. But I was glad my worries are unfounded as soon as I dived into this wine. Wow, what a gorgeous nose! This wine was actually rather harmonious already. Exotic aromatics of dried rose petals and delicious currant-like fruits, complicated by a little truffley hint. Very majestic in the mouth as well, with an awesome presence and gentle rush of waves and layers of intense currant and black raspberry fruits – the same sense of presence that I normally would only get in DRC's wines, so this is clearly greatness in a glass. Continued on effortlessly, putting on more gentleness yet at the same time increased intensity, with complex spice and dark chocolate much later on with an ethereal weightlessness (95 points). A great, great wine, and an exemplary Musigny.

The next flight was prequeled by a bottle which AS intentionally served blind as an intermission before we move on to the next set of Musigny. Many of us got a dizzy spell once we nosed this wine – for both its aromatics and from the mess of trains of thoughts for guessing what this wine might be. There were hints of stalkiness here unlike the previous wines, with cool cherry liqueur nose. Quite delicate and pretty in the mouth, showing a clear and succulent minerality of Chambolle-Musigny's terroir which is often overlooked. Hints of licorice came on later, with a mildly bitter pit-fruit finish which I have come to associate with this producer ever since. Finished with a dustiness which I personally found a little too noticeable, giving an impression of four-squareness hence swaying my guess to the other grand cru, Bonnes Mares. The rest of the table loved this wine though, as it embodied a purity of the feminine charm that got them hooked into Burgundy in the first place. Unveiled to be 1998 Georges Roumier, Chambolle-Musigny "les Amoureuses" (92 points).

Now back to the second flight of wines already poured by this time. The 1998 Comte de Vogüé, Musigny Vielles Vignes was full blown with the tell-tale creamy cherries nose I always associate with the domaine's wine, with suggestions of mocha and brown spices interspersed among redolent raspberry fruits. A touch of toasty new wood was still noticeable but it was never disturbing. The palate was a direct continuation of the nose. Full, ripe and luscious, this wine was hard not to like. Notes of licorice, dark chocolates and plummy fruits emerged later. In spite of the late darker aromas and flavours, this wine's energy never stopped keeping it interesting. As impressive as it always has been (94 points).

I have often remarked that it is possible to know a great wine simply by the nose. Great wines always have an indescribably multidimensional fragrance that, irrespective of its origin and grape type, always manage to create that mix of ethereal fruits and head-spinning savour of flowers, herbs, confectioneries and other earthy notes. I call it simply: "The Nose".

Okay, to cut the long story short, the 1998 Jacques-Frederic Mugnier, Musigny has "The Nose". And it has it in spades: dense yet airy aromas mixing violets, soy, damp earth, crushed crystalline dark cherries... I only took one sniff at it and in two seconds exclaimed to everyone, "This has to be a GREAT wine!" In fact, I thought if I were denied taking a sip of it, I would be just as happy nosing this the whole night, I thought. Right? Well, let's just say that I'm glad I wasn't stupid enough to stop short there because the palate too was incredible. Sweet, cool, airy, totally weightless and like the essence of burgundy. The texture confirmed its greatness: utterly spherical, silky and weaving delicate inner mouth perfume. When tasting wine like this the usually study of a wine's finish becomes an irrelevant exercise because with such a seamless interlace of flavour and perfume in the mouth there is no full stop in the finish of this wine. I could smell and taste this wine long after I spat (or swallowed) it. A numbingly good wine (96 points).

After such a performance the 1998 Leroy, Musigny had a tough act to follow. The wine sported a classic Leroy nose of stalky flowers, dark raspberries and currants. Equally perfumed in the mouth this shot straight with honest sweetness and almost candied fruits. After aeration, this picked up more freshness and shed its initial stalky fragrance. Very persistently sweet with palate-staining weight. Though excellently made this never quite approached the ethereal height of Mugnier's genius of a version (93 points).

A few additions came on board at this point. So now we taste the "++" selection beyond the 1998 Moose...

A bottle of 1990 Comte Georges de Vogüé, Musigny Vielles Vignes was poured next. It had been reported that in spite of the excellent vintage, this iconic domaine failed to produce quality one would typically associate with its name and vineyard. Well, this bottle for what it's worth could not disprove the skeptics, myself included, tonight. The wine came across as somewhat abrasive and loosely held together. And while possessing good power, this had almost no sweetness of fruits. A combination of bad bottle and less-than-stellar vintage performance perhaps? (NOT RATED)

AP who rushed to join us after his dinner appointment was visibly disappointed by the lacklustre showing of the 1990 de Vogüé. Anyway, all of us concurred that we were still hungry, so we called for a large take-away portion of nasi goreng kambing (mutton fried rice). AP called his helper at home to pull out a bottle of 2001 Leroy, Musigny to deliver to the Miele House. We were busy chowing down deliciously savoury spoonfuls of the fried rice but a hush of murmurs instantly fell on the table as soon as the bottle arrived. AS told me once that Leroy's 2001 Musigny was one of the greatest young wines he had ever tasted and so I consider myself warned. Still I could not imagine how this may stack up against the brilliance of Mugnier's tonight.

My skepticism was very quickly dispelled. As soon as the wine was poured, an ethereal effusive fragrance was instantly release to overwhelm the olfactory. An even more airy perfume, with a complex flowery array of violets and rose petals, deeply pitched wild red fruits, incisive notes of minerality and earth so deftly etched in the whole package it felt like I was sniffing vapourised nectar of le Musigny. The taste was nothing short of mindbending too: intensely sweet with beguiling weightlessness, round and silky in texture, with incipient sappiness and illuminating acidity not discernible on the Mugnier's. The finish was once again irrelevant, but yes if it must be told, it was endless with a curiously mouthwatering citric lift at the very back end. Utterly and effortlessly sweet, in fact, sweeter than Mugnier's, something I thought would not be possible tonight. Totally pure and sensuous, this made me a believer of Leroy's genius at work once again. I looked at NP. He leaned back on his seat, transfixed and stared back at me with that "are-you-kidding-me-what-kind-of-wine-is-this" look. I think I could read his thoughts. I grinned back, and we both shook our head in unison. What an unreal wine (97 points)! And a perfect ending to yet another experience of a lifetime.

What can I say now but my big thank you to my Jakarta friends for staging this massive showdown and for inviting me to join in this occasion? I hope this little recollection would do the wines justice. Rest assured they were sipped with a gladful heart, a wanting palate, and a reverential respect for one of the greatest wines of them all: vive le Musigny!

Ad Hoc Havoc

I lost count on how many times the few of us just decided to get together at MS's place and things just "happen". By that I mean the wines of course. Because for some reason, no matter how casual, going to MS's house, planned or otherwise, always induces the urge to unleash one's best collection. It is a mystery.

Tonight was no different. But because there is always the mystifying effect of blind bottles, the extent of the greatness of each tasting was never quite so apparent upfront. The convergence typically  becomes especially intense whenever AS comes by Singapore and MS can make dinner. And when AA graces the gathering, the intensity always goes up at least one notch up. AS, Aman, AA, KL, YH and of course MS joined forces, resolute to make this another evening we would be laughing about when we recollect it. 

It all started when I suggested that we should try some cult champagnes: something out of the usual circle of the grande marques, but who have reached a certain cultish superstardom. It's also a small attempt to distract the group from the usual Burgundy inclination, an attempt I would safely say was completely in vain tonight, but without regrets. Nonetheless I told the group I would contribute a Vilmart's Cœur de Cuvée as well as a Henri Giraud's Fût de Chêne. In two days the plot developed further to incorporate wines from the monopole vineyard of La Romanée and Romanée Saint Vivant from one of my favourite domaines Sylvain Cathiard. The rarity factor of these burgundies and given how discreet and measured owners of these wines tend to be when it comes to sharing these precious discoveries. I told MS I would bring a bottle of Sylvain Cathiard's 1998 Romanée Saint Vivant. AS flew in the next day, and in the evening we got together. Ad hoc.

As usual AS started out with something amazing. A blind bottle of course. This so-called 'apéritif' was rich and thick, pale golden in colour. It was full and oily in its aromas, with flintiness and nut oil, and an unmistakable popcorn oil. The attack on the palate was powerful and immediate, asserting its grandeur, size and complexity readily. Although almost viscous, there was no denying this was a stylish wine. The finish was serious and detailed. I thought a complex 1996 Puligny grand cru...? Unveiled to be 1996 Louis Jadot, Chevalier-Montrachet "Les Demoiselles" (94 points).

AA, brought another blind bottle, unaware of what AS might bring for the night. But as it often turns out, his bottle was perhaps too good a match for AS's earlier wine. An ineffably complex aroma that mixed stone-fruits, chalk, mild brioche, toasted nuts and lime oil, this wine reeked of nothing but class. In the mouth this was like liquid minerals, and in spite of its even more painfully intense midpalate than the Jadot, this seemed to be more feathery and airy as well. A juxtaposition of unlikelies — lean yet round, dense yet airy, powerful yet weightless — this has the touch of a great master winemaker. Incredible delineation, impossible precision and balance of fruits, minerals and oak elements. This is definitely one of the greatest white burgundies I've ever tasted: 1996 Coche-Dury, Corton-Charlemagne (97+ points).

After a tour de force pair of apéritif white burgundies, we moved to the dinner table and started the champagne course. From what I thought would be a formidable vintage to taste right now, the 1996 Vilmart et Cie "Cœur de Cuvée" turned out initially as quite closed indeed. Reticent aromas of lime, fresh dough, ginger plus a hint of spirit-like intensity. The palate profile was even more difficult to assess. Structurally powerful, this had a steely citrus backbone of fruits coated by a noticeable degree of oakiness today. As it evolved, hints of spices peeked through very sappy citrus fruits with a limey acidity at the back. This wine never stopped evolving throughout the dinner although never fully realising its potentials either, so proud of its youth was it today. A very powerful champagne, this reminded me of a great young Chablis from Raveneau (92+ points).

1998 Henri Giraud "Fût de Chêne" Aÿ Grand Cru is packaged in very unique and memorable bottle shape — clean, modern, classy with a certain exotic mysticism. That aside, this 'cult' champagne tastes as exotic as it looks. Sporting a slightly oxidative, oak-infused style, this medium golden bubbly carried a yeasty nose mystified by strong hints of passionfruit and tropical fruits. An interesting stalkiness could also be detected in the wine along with pineapple and peach. A broad, plush and luxurious mouthfeel revealed mealy notes, barley and curious hints of sweet peas later on. This statuesque champagne will charm anyone with its mouthfilling, sweet and luxuriant exotic fruits. A rich and hedonistic champagne, it is no wonder there are so many dedicated converts of this wine (93 points). Expectedly there was quite many ooh's and aah's around the table regarding this champagne because it was not dissimilar to Krug but was a lot more enjoyable in its youth. I can't wait to taste the 1999.

YH contributed another cult wine from Francis Egly in the form of NV Egly-Ouriet Blanc de Noirs Vielle Vignes Grand Cru. The fruits of this wine came from 70-year old Pinot Noir vines in Ambonnay, more specifically from the vineyard of "Les Crayéres". In the space of grower champagnes, the wines of Egly-Ouriet are, like Jacques Selosse's wines, becoming quite heavily sought after. While Selosse is justifiably famous for his Chardonnay, Egly-Ouriet focuses on the Ambonnay terroir, a grand cru which is famous for its Pinot Noir. This Blanc de Noirs was broad and leesy, with charming and mouthwateringly berry-like fruits and notes of blood oranges. Still in its infancy — at least judging from its structure today — this non-vintage special cuvée tastes more like wine than it is champagne with lots of latent power. A grower champagne's champagne, the wine picked up a ravishing porcini mushroom tail-end upon extended aeration. Very promising, and a very uniquely style Champagne (92+ points).

Because of the RSV round which by now would extend to beyond Cathiard's wines, MS thought that we should get on with the La Romanée pair first. This is the smallest of burgundy grand crus, the land which belong entirely to the Liger-Belair family. Up to quite recently, Maison Bouchard was responsible for the élevage and bottling of La Romanée wines, and starting 2002 Louis-Michel Liger-Belair began domaine bottling La Romanée under his own label while assuming the winemaking of La Romanée under Bouchard's label from Regis Forey as well. However starting vintage 2006 the La Romanée grand cru monopole is only bottled by Domaine du Comte Liger-Belair. Admittedly due to its scarcity, up to now I have had very little experience with this smallest of all grand cru, and so I looked forward to this flight with eager anticipation.

Aman brought a bottle of 2004 Bouchard Père et Fils, La Romanée to form an interesting counterpoint to Domaine Liger-Belair's version which AS brought tonight, albeit it is of a different vintage. (I had the privilege of tasting Comte Liger-Belair's 2004 La Romanée later on in a different tasting.) High toned pinot nose with still some oakiness to shed, this quickly revealed the grandeur of the fruits underneath. While 2004 will not be remembered as a vintage with deep and richly set fruits, this wine did not lack any of such. Vosne spices abound in the nose, with intriguing notes of orange peels and chinese hawthorn. Densely perfumed, this wine was also somewhat discreet, as though there were some reserves still held back. Delicate in the palate, without any signs of greenness of the lesser-made 2004s, I noticed a little heat in the finish. An impressive and unique wine (92 points).

We now shifted out attention to 2002 Comte Liger-Belair, La Romanée, served as part of this duo flight. The difference in calibre was striking. While the preceding wine was far from being a slouch, this gave an elucidatory view into La Romanée's unequivocally great terroir. There were so many things going on with this wine beyond its effusively rich and grand perfume of black raspberries and spiced cherry liqueur. All the best Vosne attributes could be found in this wine — Asian spices, soy, ripe dark fruits, silky palate, haunting inner mouth perfume — yet, again, there was a lurking sense of reserve, as though one day there would be one new morsel of complexity to be added on later on. Extremely delicate and persistent with an unreal inner mouth perfume and complex array of dark berries, currants and hints of cedar. This gave an updated meaning to the word 'multidimensional'. This is a remarkable debut based an extraordinary terroir. With the benefit of hindsight I notice Louis-Michel's hand became more assured and sleek in the later vintages, but this was a stupendous Burgundy by any measure (94+ points). I've tasted an assortment of Louis-Michel's wines for a variety of vintages and all I can say is: pay attention to this superstar in the making.

There are few 'recent' producers that generate as much excitement to me as Sylvain Cathiard. When I tasted how profound and emotional his wines were, I told myself to keep a low profile and keep the secret to myself. But what is wine when it's held to just oneself? In my moments of enthusiasm I could not help but to speak the truth and speak it loudly: Cathiard has the 'master's touch', everything he touches turns to gold, from the humble Bourgogne rouge all the way up. The class of his cellar is of course the Romanée Saint Vivant grand cru. Given how stupendous his 1998 "Les Malconsorts" 1er cru was, the anticipation for how the 1998 RSV would be was already eating into me days before this tasting even took place. Cathiard's Vosne-Romanée wines always marry the opulent fruits of Vosne and a totally unique minerally underpinnings so rarely detected in the wines of Vosne-Romanée. Like the greatest Vosne-Romanée domaines, he uses 100% new oak for his RSV, but you'd never know. He destems his fruits completely, so in contrast to Leroy and DRC, Cathiard's style is more akin to Henri Jayer's. Likewise the results he has achieved. The 1998 Sylvain Cathiard, Romanée Saint Vivant was a beauty right from the start. Highly pitched deep black fruits with an airy spicy note. Full and complex in the mouth, sweet but bright and light with a complicating truffley top notes. Wonderfully silky in texture, cool and airy in the mouth with a plush and buried fine tannins that were barely noticeable, it left the mouth refreshed with a suggestion of mint in the finish (94 points). (Note: I had the opportunity to taste another bottle of this wine which was showing even more superbly and merits a higher score! The story will be posted later.)

MS loves to complement whatever wine his guests bring. He has an incredible cellar indeed and that is why he is able to do that. Above all, he loves to do themes, keeping a certain point of reference constant and observing the nuanced differences between the wines in the theme. It is a practice that had afforded me many of my tasting learning experiences. If the 1998 Cathiard RSV was delicious and showing the kind of genius Sylvain Cathiard is, the 1999 Sylvain Cathiard, Romanée Saint Vivant was even more mind-boggling. The first thing I noticed was the immense depth on the nose — it's as if I could swim into the abyss of pristine high-pitched dark and red raspberries. It indicated the superb precision and equilibrium that this constituted the wine. It was, of course, far from being ready: sullen yet full in its immensity of its youth... solid almost impenetrable wall of fruits. With air, the sweetness multiplied and evolved into notes of caramel and toffee. Turned firmer again, of course, and became even more dense. Still this never once came across as heavy and concentrated, but rather tend to impress with its delicately and deeply sweet fruity backbone. Amazing stuff! (96+ points)

To continue where we left off with the 1998 RSV, KL's 1998 Leroy, Romanée Saint Vivant now took the table. The classic high-toned floral and stalky perfume of Leroy was in full display here. Very ripe and richly fruited with spices and leaner, more delicate frame typical of RSV, this bottle, as Leroy's wines sometimes could show, unfortunately was a little saccharine in its fragrance and glyceral mouthfeel. Still, the persistent and cool sweet fruits were beyond faults and one could only hope that other examples will show a little more delicacy to steer clear from the slightly cloying inner mouth perfume (92 points).

To round off the evening, MS pulled another wine out of his cellar but served it blind. So we were left wondering if this was just gonna be a one-off ringer or a continuation of the preceding themes. This wine had a pure-fruited nose, with bright slightly tangy fruits. It came across as slightly wooded even at this stage right now, but it was all held together quite nicely in an elegant package. A modern school Burgundy but not over the top, with a respect for purity of fruits. Dark raspberries, mocha, hints of cinnamon and slightly green notes. Turned out to be a wine I have had many times in the past. While this was a perfectly good bottle, there is no denying that the 1998 Robert Arnoux, Romanée Saint Vivant isn't likely to improve any further and is already enjoyable now (91 points).

The time was 1 a.m. now. Bottle count: 11. Head count: 7. Well alright, so we didn't that badly after all. Looking at the evening that just passed us, we grinned ourselves silly at the lineup. Incidental, coincidental or just excellent teamwork, we outdid ourselves for sure for something quite impromptu. Quality meets quantity? Definitely. Madness meets greatness? Check. More to come? Can't wait!

January 1, 2008. Score: Zero.

The first day of the new year had started and ended on a sober note. No wine. No bubblies. Not even beer.

The week before sort of stuffed me up. Too much rich food, pretty good wines all over as well. Some trepidation about going back to work tomorrow didn't help either.

Still, what happened recently had been more than great, and had prepaid for the dry new year's day. Some of those tastings deserved its own posts and just a two days ago I had some very interesting treats, all burgundies, in Jakarta.

Spurred by stellar showing of the 2004 Clos St. Jacques version of Domaine Fourrier's just this past Christmas, my buddy's offer to taste his Griotte-Chambertin was immediately taken up. As a matter of fact, Fourrier's Clos St. Jacques was probably my first superb 2004 red burgundy of the year. I never liked the 2004 reds I've tasted so far. Although charming in its display of red fruits, most 2004 finishes with disturbing raspy tartness which threw out the wine's balance. But not this St. Jacques. Fourrier's aromatics is one of a kind in Gevrey-Chambertin (well, okay, I have to pay some respect to Rousseau, but isn't that obvious?) - all sharp and soaring, delicate yet penetrating altogether. The creaminess of his vielles vignes showed clearly, and this was behaving like a mini young Chambertin, all pure red raspberries with minor tendencies toward chocolate milk and spices. Light on its feet, profusely aromatic, and very sweet and highly pitched. It's so easy to drink and forget how many glasses had passed on with this wine.

His bigger brother, the Griotte is even more convincing. Denser and more authoritative, unbelievably dense and sweet (in the context of the vintage particularly), this reeked of red wild berry fruits, pristine almost roasted raspberry flavours, but the aromatics... oh! It's soaring, gripping and never-ending. The entrance and finish are loaded with the right goods. This is Burgundy, and very Gevrey-Chambertin. In fact this may be the best Griotte-Chambertin I've ever tasted, I kid you not. This is one unequivocal evidence for the fact that there is Burgundy, and the rest are merely Pinot Noir.

Meo-Camuzet's Vosne-Romanee les Brulees is a wine I've never been disappointed by. In fact I quietly revere this wine for its ultra-cool understatement and quiet completeness. The 2002 we had the other night was marked by bottle-stink and reduction unfortunately. It was an impromptu decision to try the bottle and we pulled it out of a very cold cellar from its sleep just before we headed for dinner. I don't blame it. After decanting and very persistent and vigorous swirling, some one and a half hour later the nose cleared up. The palate was still stubbornly resisting to wake up, but make no mistake, this is greatness in the making. Deep, dense, brooding and with a sense of shape in the mouth this wine's fruit profile was almost curranty. And although tannic, there was so much fruits all I could feel was the fruit backbone. Damned tough to expound adequately (and certainly impossible to enjoy) at this stage but this wine continues to reinforce what I've always believed about this wine: that it is a complete premier cru a la Vosne-Romanee. Awesome stuff.

A Blog-less(?) 2007: A Retrospective

The past year or so I've been thinking about a couple of things.

I have long noticed that I rarely am terribly fascinated about wines I drink. Yet I still love wines. And I will drink it whenever I have the chance. But the occasions that they make me (a) shake my head in disbelief, (b) grin insanely like someone high on drugs, and (c) shiver and my hair stands are just too few. There were so many of these happy times a few years back. And saying this just makes me feel... old.

But recently I decided not to grumble over it. I realize it's just natural. In fact, it's a good thing. It shows that there is progress.

This year I also noticed that my blind tasting accuracy statistics is spotty at best. I make blunders like mistaking a grand cru Burgundy from a top-notch year as a northern Rhone. At another time, a top notch Cote-Rotie as a Cote-de-Beaune. More than once I mistook Gevrey for Vosne (a mistake spectacularly I never ever made before this year - something I used to be quietly very proud of). Plus I still suck at Bordeaux even in a narrow semi-blind setting - what's up with that?!

I had long resolved that guessing blind wrongly is no big deal so long as I learn from it. But some of these mistakes were so stupid my faith began to waver. Yet later on I decided what the heck. I was right to start with about focusing on the learning process as opposed to the statistics of spotting it right. And it's a good thing. This too shows progress.

On a more upbeat note I drank a whole lot more whites and champagnes this year than ever. My appreciation for white burgundies and knowledge about champagnes is steadily increasing. I'm still novice in the latter, but I'm happy with the progress. And I'm more than happy to keep drinking them.

I noticed as well that my early impressions on certain superb vintages (yet often latently so still) had just been reinforced and reconfirmed. My drinking associates who used to be skeptical about my overtly sanguine enchantment with these vintages started vindicating my initial thoughts. I have several other observations which are yet unshared by others but I am confident that it's but a matter of time. This shows I'm not yet going senile in spite of the many brain cells who had laid down their lives so that I could taste, and retaste these wines.

My drinking portfolio this year is still dominated by burgundies, in fact by a ridiculous, almost unfair margin when compared with the other wine regions. I longed for the thrill and joy of encountering another great Chateauneuf du Pape, Barolo, or a Medoc. I feel I badly need to redeem myself here. This almost sounds like a new year resolution. Perhaps it is, after all...

Wines will increasingly be more important in this coming year. The laid-back stance I took in 2007 will evolve. It doesn't mean more tasting and notes (although they're most welcome). But greater attention will be put into it to make sure the experience and learning will be shared with those who could bear to listen.

(I popped Cattier's NV Chigny-les-Roses Premier Cru tonight. It would be my last wine of 2007. I wonder what will be the first one in 2008? But it doesn't matter, I suppose, because more importantly I look forward to many more artisanal champagnes.)

And we're...back!

At some point or another, most people kind of slow down in their personal fixations and drift into motions which though not by themselves be devoid of thrills and enjoyment, just don't get committed into expressed actions.

And so it has been a year since this blog was updated. This does not mean that the pleasure of tasting wines has left my side. They are just uncommitted into written ruminations and tasting notes which used to decorate the past pages.

Have I been tasting new wines? Am I still fascinated by them? Have I incurred newfound wisdom in the journey? The answer is Yes, Yes, and Yes.

And so this posting marks a relaunching of an old habit, one that tends to grumble audibly about things which by general standards are frivolous but by personal one essential and important.

I have been privileged to be a part of many a good gathering featuring not merely great bottles, but also mind-boggling and personally touching ones. I will share them with you. (Thank God for the invention of paper and pen.)

Speaking of written notes, over time I realize I no longer write descriptors for taste, but rather gravitate toward texture, structure and impression of shape of wine in the mouth. It is not a conscious effort, by the way: it comes rather naturally. Is it useful? Well, I'm not sure I even care about that. I mean, it is definitely representative to me personally, though it may not be elucidative to others. But then again, my notes are personal documentation of impression, not a vehicle for instruction to others. We will see this in full effect once the postings come out.

I just came back from a very warm and memorable tasting. It's 2 AM. I think I will give myself a chance to shut down now. Zzzzzzzzzz...

'< 1980' night

The travelling Burgnut JC decided (aptly and I'm sure he did not regret) to spend his 37th birthday in Singapore although he is based in Hong Kong. The theme was pre-1980, not necessarily burgundy, but most of us had by default made it a pre-1980 burgundy night. The line up turned out to be very interesting indeed. The venue was the chinese restaurant at the New Majestic Hotel at Chinatown, which, for the record, served up classy, hearty, progressive Chinese cuisine.

When I arrived they had already started pouring the first white blind, which, incidentally was not burgundy (not by taste, nor by bottle shape). Curious nose featuring peanut skins, straw and ginko nuts. It's rather round and the fruits seemed to have dissolved (not dissipated) into the structure. Still quite lively but make no mistake this is O.L.D. Gently full-bodied and oily, and with a slight warmth in the finish: 1977 Chateau Pape-Clement, Graves blanc. This was followed by a double-bottles of Maison Verget's Chablis "Montee de Tonnere" 1er 1996, and each of them were decidedly different, a testimony that bottle variations is a fact of life. The first bottle had coconut shavings on the nose and were fully oxidative in flavour, very fat (too fat for a Chablis) but literally maderized. Interestingly it put on a tail of acid later on. Only the acid gave the hint it was a Chablis... The second bottle was better and fresher. The nose was wood-charged and meaty, no longer maderized. On the palate this too was fat but with an evident acid spine now. All in all it was better, but too over-the-top for my liking, especially recalling that this was supposed to be a Chablis...

If the previous bottle shook my faith in white burgundies, the next one more than made up for it. Served blind this had a superbly youthful flinty pineapple-y, okay, so let's just say, Meursault nose. In the mouth this was suave, fat, broad yet very very lively. Impeccably balanced with wonderful supporting acidity. Texturally round with elegant hazelnuts and crushed stones. Very punchy and voluminuous so much so that if I wasn't convinced this was a Meursault (vintage 1996 was my guess), I would have called it grand cru. When it was unveiled, my reasonings were partially justified: it was a Meursault-Perrieres (did I say grand cru?) except that it was a 1979! Indeed, a fantastic 1979 Robert Ampeau Meursault-Perrieres.

The last of the white was a little perplexing. The hue was slightly orangey, with madeira-tinged, nutty nose which was curiously fresh. As it stayed on the glass, this became brighter, with a moderate acidity. Textured, but rather brisk and penetrating, with popcorn oil flavours. I thought it was a Puligny grand cru, say, vintage 1992? Turned out to be 1996 Roger Belland Criots Batard Montrachet. Interesting (probably my first Criots?)

The liquids turned red now. The first bottle was definitely not burgundy. Very pronounced tobacco, mixing ripe raspberries and sweet vanillin in the nose. Hints of licorice. Beguiling pronounced, almost loud, acidity. Certainly not French. Smoky and ash nuances too. Very curious, but I'm quite sure it's a Spaniard. 1971 Torres Gran Coronas.

A burg followed. This one was very heavily sedimented, and a decidedly stemmy nose. Very sweet reduction of pinot kind of nose with dark cherries and minerals. Whiffs of tobacco had me thinking it was a Pommard, but again, an almost atypical sweetness for a Pommard. Very full bodied, rich, dense yet round. 1971 Comte Armand Clos des Epeneaux.

And another burg followed. This one sported higher pitch, with a very pristine black cherry liqueur infused nose. Transparent, ripe, sweet and bright, with complicating earthy hints of grilled meats and evident minerality. Ended with a massive density at the finish. Wonderful stuff, especially for a villages as it turned out to be! 1971 JL Trapet Gevrey-Chambertin L'Ostrea. (The massive backend had me thinking if this was a signature of red 1971 burgs...)

Rolling on yet another burg, the next wine was decidedly earthier and muskier, with pronounced grilled meats and almost curranty nose. (Could this be slightly dehydrated?) Very deep bright red, highly pigmented burgundy with hints of bacon fats at the nose. It was still very compact in the mouth too, with a rather rustic and dusty finish. The fruits were verging on plummy, though not flabby. Overall a very dense, compact and earthy burg. Must be the south, I thought. 1976 Michel Gaunoux Pommard Grands Epenots.

(The next bottle was sadly corked - 1971 Georges Lignier Clos St. Denis. What a shame - it would have been nice to taste a Clos St. Denis again, what more an old one like this. Just not our luck, I suppose...)

A rather charmless and reticent nose preceded a fairly dense, yet also charmless fruits on the next wine. Earth and minerals were certainly there yet hardly making its presence felt. This was dense, textured and oily but that's about it. Rather disappointing for the vineyard: 1976 JL Trapet Chambertin.

I suppose I was rather overwhelmed by the succession of old burgundies served so far. To be honest, judging the vintage became quite a futile exercise to me by now. There's still so much to learn in this space as I start treading deeper into back vintages. And I hope this kind of experience will repeat several more times so that I can wrap my mind around it.

The next wine was again very meaty and there was a certain liqueur element to it. Burgundy of course, I thought. The fruits were almost curranty, and there were earth and tobacco whiffs too. Another Pommard? Quite ashy with a totally resolved tannins (and this part had me thinking this might be a Corton). Impressively focussed acid frame even at this age, which was again very sweet yet elegant. I voted Corton, but it was 1959 Michel Gaunoux Pommard Rugiens.

The next bottle was most funky, mixing prunes and haw fruits on the nose, and laden with vitamins. Viscously textured yet ashy, with again a pruney core. Despite its Cote-de-Beaune-ness, this was unusually soft and gentle, which had me thinking of Savigny, though I never thought any would keep this long. 1978 Lejeune Pommard les Argillieres.

The night had to end with Bordeaux. These were not served blind. Everyone was going at it and all voted to open the next two bottles. 1970 Lafite Rothschild blew off barnyardy aromas which turned into lovely sweet raspberries essence. Soft and plush - I suppose this was what first growth 'class' was all about? - and though this wasn't a particularly stupendous Lafite, it was a lovely drink nonetheless. Soft, gentle core with pronounced tobaccoey character. Very sweet, and my only complain was that it turned rather cloying in the finish.

The 1967 Haut-Brion gave away its origin without shame. Cigar box and sweet currants and tar on the nose. The palate was meaty and had a somewhat slightly rustic edge. Very sweet yet dusty, lending some structure, cooking up coffee, toffee and caramels later on. Nice.

Assorted selected tasting notes (brief)

2000 Foley Barrel Select Chardonnay Sonoma Coast - Very ripe Chardonnay aromas. Buttery and quite oak driven. Very sweet and frontal. Rather short. Turning coconutty. Typical lusty Cali-chard.

2000 Cos d'Estournel St. Estephe - Cedary, curranty nose. Very ripe yet pristine. Sweet and dense in the midpalate. Very fine-grained tannins. Velvety even at this stage. Lovely lift and minerality despite its formidable frame.

2004 Etienne Sauzet Puligny-Montrachet les Perrieres - Typically classy wood (pencil-shavings) nose, a la Sauzet. Minerally and incisive fruits - peach, apples, pears - with slightest touch of vanillin. Spiney, lengthy and classy. Lightweight but balanced. This is already elegant, though could do with more penetration to be more complete. A lovely example of the vintage and commune.

2004 Giaconda Shiraz Warner Vineyard Victoria - Meaty, hammy, peppery nose reminiscent of Cote Roties. Blueberries too. Exotic mix of fruits including redcurrants. Structure-wise this has less cut and less minerality than the real McCoy. Impressive for an Aussie Shiraz.

1998 L'Angelus St. Emilion - Spice cake, oak and deep currant fruits. Soft, plush but very dense, with mouthcoating heck of a tannin (despite having been double decanted for more than three hours). A technical wine with impressive constitution but fails to excite at the visceral level.

1989 Lynch Bages Pauillac - Spicy, cedary nose which is Cabernet dominated. Round and plush now - in fact unusually so - with an uncharacteristic softness and elegance for a Lynch Bages. Could do with more sweetness.

2001 Bruno Giacosa Barolo Falletto - Pure aromas of red berries, raspberries and tar. Very Piedmontese, yet almost feminine. Full and smoky in the mouth adding nuances over the berry fruits with a pronounced Italian arresting acid which provides it structure for evolution.

2002 Highfield Elstree Cuvee Brut Marlborough - Consulted by Drappier... Apples, zesty, a little hollow but lithe and lively. Pleasant.

2005 Michel & Stephane Ogier Viognier de Rosine - Classic viognier nose, clean and floral. Honeysuckle in the mouth and skittles candies. Relatively bracing for a viognier and very dry. Turns grapefruity. Good typicity.

2004 Andre Perret Syrah Franc de Pied Vin de Pays des Collines Rhodaniennes - Fruity yet leathery nose, mixing currants and earth. Simple but fresh and pleasant. No tannic grip at all.

2003 Agly Brothers Cotes du Rousillon - (Collaboration between the Laughtons of Jasper Hill and M. Chapoutier) Meaty nose of dark berries, spicy American-oak flavours but elegant and relatively cool. Ripe and delicious. An unusual french. Dusty finish. Not complex.

2004 Michel & Stephane Ogier L'Ame Soeur Terres de Seyssuel Vin de Pays des Collines Rhodaniennes - (old vine Syrah) Soaring nose of dark raspberries, crunchy black fruits and white pepper. Very promising. Intense candied fruits. Persistent and the only vdp tonight with midpalate. Old viney intensity.

2005 Paul Blanck Pinot Blanc - Lime, peach on the nose. Slightly peppery. Light with adequate acid spine.

2004 Paul Blanck Pinot Auxerrois Vielles Vignes - Sweeter, higher toned, more minerally scented, denser, more textured. Nice.

2004 Paul Blanck Gewurtztraminer - Lychee nose, bitter peach-pit. Sweet and lower acid. Opulent and broad. A little flabby but that's probably due to the varietal?

2004 Paul Blanck Riesling Rosenbourg - A great wine right from the nose, quintessential petroleum, lime skin oil, slate, very full, sweet, light yet textured. Wonderful!

2004 Paul Blanck Gewurtztraminer Altenbourg - Very rich, also lychee but more honey textured, dry but sweet.

2004 Paul Blanck Pinot Gris Patergarten - Meaty, saline nose, quite intense, in fact quite minerally. Impressive for a gris. Very nicely textured.

2002 Paul Blanck Pinot Gris Furstentum Grand Cru - Honeyed, sweet, bortrytised, dense, textured, but that's about it. Clean finish though.

2002 Paul Blanck Riesling Schlossberg Grand Cru - Refined, very restrained riesling nose, denser, good acidity, sweet, long.

2001 Paul Blanck Gewurtztraminer Furstentum Vielles Vignes - Meaty, lychee syrup, flinty, white pepper, very sweet and cleaner, less bortrytised than the earlier 2002, lightest on the palate but most intense of the gewurtztraminer.

NV Bollinger Special Cuvee Champagne - Lemon custard and yeasty nose. In fact quite meaty. Nicely plush with some crisp acidity in the finish.

2004 Aubert Chardonnay Ritchie - More minerally nose although initially woodier. More backbone and solidity in the middle. Californian but not tropical fruits. In fact cooler than the Lauren.

2004 Aubert Chardonnay Lauren - Ripe but elegant nose. Quite floral. Very ripe with apricot pits. Textured in the mouth. Turned pineappley. Not particularly sweet due to lack of acidity. But elegant.

1993 Kalin Cellars Pinot Noir Cuvee DD - Started with a barnyardy nose which blows off. Redcurrant like, rather rustic finish. Matured. Cool syrupy textured.

1986 Faiveley Chambertin Clos de Beze - Bright pale ruby. Rather metallic and steely. Not a particularly ripe year. But nicely framed, lean, but generous in the center. Nice and quite classy. Lovely and drinking well now.

2002 R. & V. Dauvissat Chablis le Forest - Chalky. Lush but quite minerally. Very ripe and textured for a Chablis. With lean-ish end, and quite limey.

1994 William-Selyem Pinot Noir Riverblock - Spicy nose. Rather like Anne Gros like oak? Quite soft and plush in the mouth. Very clean and quite integrated.

1995 William-Selyem Pinot Noir Riverblock - More candied and stewed fruits nose, in fact rather soupy. More residual sweetness. Flavours quickly dissipating afterwards.

1996 William-Selyem Pinot Noir Riverblock - Vitamin nose, with soya sweetness. Cooler and more substantial in the middle. Not big but solid.

1996 William-Selyem Pinot Noir Allen - Vitaminy. Very deep, cool stuff. Not particularly sweet (lacks sap) but very elegant. A far more refined version than the Riverblock. Depth, complexity, good length.

2002 Rochioli Pinot Noir River Block - Ripe, laden nose of raspberries, dark chocolate and vitamins. Very ripe and dense. Still new worldish or new wave burgs (reminds me of Clos de Tart).

1994 Ca'Togni (black muscat) - Lychee laden nose. Similar on the palate. Straightforward, but interesting wine.

1988 d'Yquem Sauternes - Very orange colour. Way too advanced here... Bortrytised nose. Silky palate.

2002 JJ Hahn 'Reginald' Shiraz Cabernet Barossa - Meaty, typical Aussie nose sans OTT American oak. A bit of band aid, dark currants and plums, but still have acidity - some plainness and simplicity in the midpalate. Quite good for the price.

2004 Peter Michael l'Apres-midi Sauvignon Blanc - Slight pencil shavings, grapefruits, gooseberry, citric nose. Elegant. Textured but light in the mouth with crunchy acid back. Some beeswax showing off the semillon element. Full, fat yet bracing. A compelling new world.

2002 Arcadian Chardonnay Sleepy Hollow Santa Lucia Valley - Meaty old worldish nose. Fleshy but slightly hollow in the mouth. Some popcornish wild yeast. Turn white peachy.

2004 Sea Smoke Pinot Noir Southing Santa Barbara - Spicy, quite rich, blueberry tinged fruits. New worldish but clean, quite balanced and actually quite delicious. Quite heady though.

2004 Pahlmeyer Chardonnay - Flinty pineappley nose. Rich but not heady. Quite persistent and has some midpalate. Impressive. Very very delicious. Lusty cali chard at its most palatable.

2003 Pahlmeyer Merlot - Dark raspberries nose, quite pure, very merlot. Not too complex in the mouth with notable but elegant oak and dustiness yet the perfume is very captivating.

2002 Blankiet Merlot Paradise Hill - Old worldish merlot nose, blackcurrants, some meatiness, very sweet and plush... Sweet and textured with a dense yet elegant palate. Quite an impressively engineered wine.

2001 Merryvale Profile - Denser meatier nose and denser palate, very substantial, blackcurrant, sweet nose. New worldish but quite refined. Clearly more cabernet dominated in the mouthfeel.

2001 Cardinale - Very meaty, dense, quite heady, espresso nose, some stalkiness, modern californian cabernet.

1996 Harlan Estate Proprietary Red - New worldish but grippy intense red with scorched earth and lots of tobacco. All black fruits. Very substantial and solid.

2004 Didier Dagueneau 'Jardin de Babylone' Jurancon - Peach, honey, textured, awesome, with explosive fruits in the mouth. Lovely dessert wine: effortless, elegant and quintessentially refreshing.

The Jakarta Connection (Day Two: Finale)

After a make-do rest the night before, followed by a satisfying lunch-cum-tasting today afternoon, sustaining a build up of anticipation for the upcoming evening event -- the very reason why I had decided to make this trip -- my 'rational' self tried repeatedly to convince the body to take a rest before dinner. An hour of nap I thought would have been perfect. The coming evening, after all, promised to be one major burgundy fest, with far more bottles than there would be people, and I had every reason to want to be in the best shape for it.

Sleep is particularly elusive when you believed with all your heart you needed it. After lunch, I elected to tag along with the boys for a massage. One-and-a-half-hour session, and I thought -- believing what the rest said -- would have been the perfect vehicle to that mystical slumber I craved for so suddenly. And perfectly timed too, so why not, I reasoned to myself. To cut the long story short, I am happy to report that I did get some sleep... for approximately four minutes at the tail end of my massage. Now I know what not to do if I ever need to sleep badly.

But I felt alright. The little time spent in the hotel changing up and waiting to get over to the Miele showroom where dinner was supposed to be held seemed very long. Sourcing for a borrowed corkscrew in the hotel proved to be quite a challenge, especially when the three of us, all staying in separate rooms, wanted to open our bottles prior to bringing them to dinner. The housekeeper who delivered the corkscrew to my room flatly refused to let me hang on to it so that I could pass this around to my other friends. He said that some other guests were waiting to use it. In the end, I had to return it and ended up as the only person who brought opened bottles to dinner (other than my roommate, that is...)

The trip to the Miele showroom was in the classic tradition of the Jakarta lifestyle: 10 minutes of driving distance, or 5 minutes of straightline distance, decorated with a 25 minutes worth of peak-hour detour and traffic jam. Fortunately, in spite of the grandeur of the traffic ritual, it did not diminish my anticipation for what was to come.

Interestingly we still arrived quite early and felt right at home once we were there. The place was beautiful and cosy. To put it simply: I would have loved to live there. The chef and his crew were already beginning to boil, stew and grill some of the evening's concoction. The appetizing aromas filled the cool room, and at a table nearby, burgundy glasses enough to serve a party four times our size had been lined up waiting to do its duty. Andy was busy organizing the wines which appeared as and when each guest arrived, sorting and deciding carefully which ones would go into a decanter. KL and I were busy hunting for the 'right' fridge to put our white wine bottles into. Yes, there were that many fridges there. What do you expect? This is the ultimate showroom for kitchen appliances, no?

We eased our ways into unhurried conversations as each guest arrived. In between I stared at the evidence of past glorious escapades : a line up of great bottles (predominantly burgundy, of course) consumed on-site, decorating the side panels of the room. And I thought perhaps after tonight this collection would become even more illustrious. As a matter of fact I was rather convinced so. Minutes later, dinner was served.

I had been thinking to myself it would be quite difficult to do one up after the afternoon's Chablis Les Clos 2002 tasting. I thought the afternoon setting, format and atmosphere were perfect. Yet as I sat down at the table I sensed that although tonight's tasting was not as structured, there would be some special discoveries. All the wines were wrapped blind. The owner would ask questions about his wine(s), citing options to move things along more quickly. And since the white wines were still being chilled, the evening began, in the best of burgundian tradition, with the reds. Ting, ting, ting... Quiet please!

The debut red had a nose that was deep, full of earth and dark cherry essence. Its colour aged, and a mild evidence of the use of stalks in the nose. It was mature, sweet and even textured. Smoky, in fact, rather ashy with a elegant four-squareness. 1990 Armand Rousseau Chambertin. Delicious, but lacking that special force that was Le Chambertin. Perhaps a bottle or storage variation...?

At this point I was beginning to shake my head. If the start was that, what could be next? and next? and next...? But then again, perhaps it was just an unintentional arrangement -- after all, who the heck knows, it was all blind, right? Red #2 sported an even more aged hue. On the nose, definitely stalkier with unmistakable Vosne-like nose full of spicy fruits. This had denser extract than the Chambertin and displayed a tannic tail-end. Surely older, surely Vosne grand cru, and could be DRC or Leroy, although I thought it was more Leroy-ish since it had a burlier frame. 1976 DRC Richebourg. This is getting very interesting indeed, especially we were only on the second wine.

As I approached #3, we got right back into a taut minerally burgundy camp. Gevrey, I thought, and a damned good one. Soya nose, indicating some age that had allowed this surely-grand-cru wine to meld and tame its earthy exhibits into its current display. In fact, this was rather square and deep with chocolatey nuances as well. Yet at the same time it was pristine and densely constituted. A balanced, broodingly serious wine. 1985 Jacques Prieur Chambertin. A wonderfully delicious wine which put my faith back to this vintage who had been more frequently a disappointment than revelation of late.

A Chambolle nose came right up on the next wine. I thought de Vogue, and DO laughed at me. He said I was beginning to stereotype him, but I honestly did perceive some purplish creamy cherry fruits which typify de Vogue, particularly its Bonnes-Mares. Lots of raspberries here with chocolates. Some tang lifted the substantial, serious yet bright body of fruits. Turned out to be 1995 J.F. Mugnier Musigny, which I personally thought was markedly superior to another I had not too long ago. As I let the wine rest in the glass, the stemminess began to emerge. I guess I was too eager to call the wine and missed these little hints. With such a hint, I wouldn't have called it de Vogue. Well, that's what they called hindsight, I suppose.

Okay, enough of reds now (as IF...!) and so we followed up with the white crew. White #1 was a biggie, in fact quite exotic but without being blowsy and out-of-whack. Surely a Puligny grand cru with very deep, textured fruits hinting at minerals, honey, caramels and near-tropical suggestions (no bananas, thankfully! and that ruled out 2003 vintage). Deep golden hue, with fruits that had hints of toffee and a mouthfeel that was quite spherical. Caramelized nuts and very rich. Quite unlike anything I've tasted before. I couldn't put my finger to this wine and rightfully there was no way I could have. It was something I had not tasted before: Le Montrachet. 2001 Henri Boillot Montrachet. Delicious.

White #2 had deep gold and a near copper-like nose. Nutty and toasty with broad and textured flavour profile, albeit lacking middle flavours. I called it a Puligny 1er cru, and I won't know which one... 1994 Leflaive Puligny-Montrachet les Folatieres.

And the final white was from one of my favourite villages in Cote d'Or. Pristine high-toned flavours encased in discreet but incisive limey acidity. Quite flamboyant and expressive at the nose already at this stage with lime skin oil texture adding intrigue in the palate. Despite its unusual approachability, this wine had plenty of reserve in the middle, and it was particularly minerally and square. 2002 Faiveley Corton-Charlemagne. Believe it when people who 'know' say Faiveley's Corton-Charlemagne are special.

We're now back to the reds. The next wine had lots of dark raspberries and a dense multi-dimensionality I now began to associate with this grand cru. Vosne-spices aplenty and an un-shy level of oak treatment that now had begun to integrate with its fruits. Crystalline rich dark fruits stuffed to the brim. 1999 Anne Gros Richebourg.

Swinging back up north, the next bottle had that quintessential Chambolle raspberries essence nose. Dense, ripe and packed with a notable level of ripeness and hence texture. Again, unmistakably grand cru and it had to be a Musigny. This was a large wine but it effortlessly sported an irreproachable purity. The fruits tended to have that darkish tinge suggesting a fairly hardcore vintage. 2001 J.F. Mugnier Musigny.

The next wine had that bright red fruits that was quintessential burgundy. Dense yet elegant, with a certain minerally tinge, even vitamins too -- and this was after being decanted for more than an hour, prior to which it was quite completely muted. Quite high-pitched and multidimensional especially for the appellation, but little wonder because this was a work of a master. 2002 Marquis d'Angerville Volnay Taillepieds.

Aged burgundies now came on with the next two wines. It started with one which had an oily, sweet plums nose. It was also gently but noticeably spiced. Hallowed bacon fat, smokey aromas began to make its introduction with the help of some coaxing in the glass. This is particularly wonderful especially with an old wine such as this. There was evidence of stems and though it was lightly textured, it carried with it an intense innermouth presence and perfume. 1978 Robert Arnoux Romanee-St.-Vivant.

The owner had been very careful with the next one. Even before the Arnoux RSV was served, he was already anxious and began pouring himself a glass and passed it to both myself and Andy to seek the confirmation that the wine was well. Well, it was more than well. A high-pitched nose of evolved plums and almost-metallic minerality, plus that (again) densely packed multidimensionality fusing spicy fruits, earth, smoke, dark cherry liqueur... The fruits were, in a word, luscious, encased in a complicating (not distracting) stalky outer-tones. With even more air, this displayed that icy-cool crystalline black cherries. Very classy. Given its minerality, despite its rich spiciness, I had to take the middle of the road decision to call it a Chambolle, particularly a Musigny. But it was not. Now, on hindsight, I am beginning to realise that only one wine could come out this way. 1964 DRC Richebourg. A very tall, broad, masculine yet elegant wine. A magnificent treat. (The owner must be pleased to have his gamble paid off. The provenance of this wine was very good indeed!)

How to top off a wine like that, I asked myself... Still, while the next wine was decidedly far younger, this had that punch and 'Wow!' factor that was unmistakably from either one of the two most respected grand crus in Gevrey. This wine had a very special briary edge, distinctly and delineatedly displaying intense dimensions of smoke, toast, cherry skins and deep deep minerally fruits. At this point the wood treatment had not completely integrated, but the class of each of its components, the outright sizability of them all, yet remaining perfectly composed and focused in its balance surely suggested the work of a great artist. A great wine by any measure, in fact, thrilling -- infanticide aside. 1999 Armand Rousseau Chambertin. This vindicates why I am so partial to this vineyard, and Rousseau almost always renders a magnificent expression of this tremendous piece of land.

The momentum of the evening was relentless even up to this point, some thirteen wines after... Again, I found my sweet spots seduced by the pronounced soya-like savoury sweet nose of the next wine. High-pitched, with pronounced dense and again icy-cool black cherry fruits. The fruits were almost roasted, but maintained its pitch, focus and restraint. Impeccable juice of unmistakably grand-cru calibre. Voluminous and massive in the mouth, with certain creamy sappiness in its spine. Wonderful stuff. 1998 Meo-Camuzet Vosne-Romanee les Brulees... His most special premier cru vineyard (Meo's personal favourite, apparently) and one that performed far beyond its standing in the cru hierarchy.

What's next was quite spicy and stemmy in its rather exhilarating nose. There's a lot of wine in here, with a certain brooding character in it. Equally dense and spicy in the mouth and it had that almost liqueur like aspect which could only be due to either (a) tremendous ripeness, or (b) a well-cultivated old vine site, or (c) both. There's no doubting the class of this wine and I guessed it was a 1990, but it was in fact a 1995 DRC Romanee-St.-Vivant.

There was a good reason why the next wine was served last. This probably defined the meaning of the word "unyielding". Tremendous power, size and punchiness without sacrificing its exquisite elegance, this wine possessed the essence of raspberries. It was at once briary, confectionery, grapey, monolithic and near-wild. If Roty were to make a Chambolle, it might well turn out like this! This was almost like a 1999, except that it didn't have the nuanced layers, purple extract and backbone minerality typical of that vintage. Stupendous and knock-out stuff (literally). 2001 Roumier Bonnes-Mares.

And so the night ended for the eleven of us imbibing the more-than-just-great burgundies, all fifteen of them. A perfect dinner on all counts. The enthusiasm, atmosphere, food, wine, company, all of these were intoxicating. I was mentally intoxicated, while physically I was spared of it thanks to my dutiful, well-utilized spittoon. Was this well worth my temporary escape from family and professional duties back at home? Well, that's rather rhetorical. And quite importantly the privilege of being able to learn so many things in a single sitting with vintages going back so far was just priceless.

As in all great learning experiences, such an experience just went to show how little I knew of this wine region I thought I had come to know quite well. At this level of playing field, when one is tasting only the best producers making the best terroirs, and add to that the complexity of age, and the exercise of guessing the wines blind is no mean feat. The really good burgundies, when aged, tend to converge and become quite similar. The differences could not be perceived from the fruit profile standpoint anymore and need to be examined from less tangible/technical angles. How does one ascribe mineralities and pitch when it is indeed found in a Vosne? Or opulence in a Gevrey? Or massive structure in a Chambolle? Or 1999 reds which are not exactly sullen? These are the very discoveries which would certainly change the way I view these wines in the future -- blind or not.

And yes, I would need to attend a lot more tastings in the future in order to validate what I learned tonight... Anyone would like to make me an offer?