Keith Levenberg
Keith Levenberg
Have had the good fortune of some work trips recently where you can find some nice things to drink at the local steakhouse.
Ch. Leoville Las Cases 1922
Tippy-top shoulder fill and a vibrant ruby color were visible through the thick dark glass bottle - no-doubter on the optics. Cork came out in one solid piece with the chateau markings still legible, which is more than you could say for the label, or almost entire lack thereof. Aromatic enough to smell all the way over on the decanting table, like bushels of fresh apples, and the color in the decanter is that same enticing ruby. The texture is as smooth as butter. The first sip is focused on the fruit, the same juicy orchard fruit forecast by the aroma, but it does leave me wondering if that's its last gasp or if there's gonna be another layer of something more interesting. And then that extra layer pops on the back end, with a big backdraft of tobacco and a general earthiness, maybe obliquely evoking underbrush but much more savory. It makes for quite the contrast because the front end is all fruity and bona fide refreshing (!) while all the tertiary stuff is loaded in the back. The bright red fruit plays at the higher end of the scale so the darker earthy elements do a good job of making this complete. About 90 minutes in the fruit seems to show a deeper complexion, the palate thickens up, the texture picks up a bit more grit, and some of those interesting backpalate elements hit the bouquet. Turns out this is the second '22 Bordeaux I've had. A '22 Talbot from the same cellar a few years ago was at least as good - not as finessed, but a bit more going on in the flavor department. Broadbent gives the vintage a biting one star out of five with the remarks: "Good spring and early summer but spoiled by cold wet September. Huge crop but variable. Late pickers did best. Not worth seeking." So sounds like a year that had the chance to develop some good material if growers were able to save it at the end. This one clearly did. It's still a beauty in fine shape at 97 years old, and maybe a bit off peak, but not by much.
Ch. Mouton-Armailhacq 1928
Low fill, in fact only barely into the shoulder at all, but it was the last bottle in the cellar and a healthy ruby color was still visible through the thick glass, so we gave it a go. Cork comes out in one piece - it's the original cork and black as coal. The wine pours out light and pale, but still red, no browning or any sort of oxidized scents. It doesn't have much fruit left, what's there is mostly a dried, dusty cherry, but after expecting more on the entry it delivers on the back end, where the light fruit is overtaken by the stocky savoriness that only comes with full maturity alongside sensations of old wood, a mix of antique cedar spice box and decaying forestal logs, reverberating long enough on the backdraft you could almost call it perfumed. The word "retro-nasal" is used from time to time in winespeak but you'd be hard-pressed to find a better demonstration of it than this: about 50% of this wine and 100% of what's interesting about it is retro-nasal at this point. The fruit gains a bit of a boost with some airing, but not a whole lot. It peaks after about an hour and at the two hour mark even the dried cherry has segued into leaner, juicier apples which is pretty much the end-of-life stage.
Ch. Gazin 1952
Rarely seen vintage on account of the fact that the Right Bank excelled back when nobody was drinking Right Bank. I actually preferred this a notch to the '55 vintage a few of us had a year ago from the same cellar. Fill on this bottle was low/mid shoulder at best, but the color is a deep, luminous ruby with just the barest bricking at the edges and it's obviously in fine shape. On the first sip it's actually a bit backwards, gently herbal with the structural frames bolder than the fruit, but it fleshes out nicely, first with the fruit freshening up while retaining its structure and reddish complexion, then with the fruit turning blacker and fleshing out enough to cover the frame and leave a smooth, suave spherical impression and a polish you wouldn't have thought it capable of from that first taste. The interesting non-fruit elements of the flavor mostly come out on the back end, which features some black truffle and nuttiness. Food in particular did a lot to draw more personality out of this, which is what gave it the edge in my book over the more sweetly fruited but simpler '55.
J. Thorin 1955 Chambertin-Clos de Beze
Somehow this is the third '55 I've had from the now-mostly-forgotten J. Thorin, and no doubt the best. Maybe that's because the others seemed to be under a negociant label while this one indicates it was estate bottled from the Thorin domaines with an extra-fancy crest on the label too. Bottle is in perfect shape with a fill barely more than a centimeter below the cork and a vibrant Ferrari-red color. Like all the rest from Thorin this needed some air to get into gear and kept getting better, richer, and deeper. It starts out on the light side, enough that I'm thinking, hey, this is the first Thorin I've had that doesn't taste spiked with grenache! - red fruit with an ever-so-slight cooling Alpine greenery on the back end, showing its breed from the sheer silkiness of the texture. About an hour in it has put on serious weight. The fruit material is thicker and picks up a palpably sticky grip, along with layers of gravel and tar and aromas that combine a mild leatheriness with remarkably sweet, saucy blackberries and then some cinnamon and licorice with a bit more time. On the palate, too, the fruit becomes ridiculously intense for its age, in a sense you could almost call it primary because it is so vividly fruity, but it's in a more saucy, reduced fashion. It's thick outside the usual parameters of pinot and again I find myself asking the grenache question but it really doesn't taste grenachey and especially not old-grenachey, it just has that extra kick of thickness and fat to the point where you almost feel you could chew it and stretch it like gum. The laciness that characterized it at the outset has segued to a serious solidity, the palate feeling infused with asphalt. But to the very end it is still more fruit-centric than anything. Hope I'll still be this sunny when I'm 64.
Ch. Leoville Las Cases 1922
Tippy-top shoulder fill and a vibrant ruby color were visible through the thick dark glass bottle - no-doubter on the optics. Cork came out in one solid piece with the chateau markings still legible, which is more than you could say for the label, or almost entire lack thereof. Aromatic enough to smell all the way over on the decanting table, like bushels of fresh apples, and the color in the decanter is that same enticing ruby. The texture is as smooth as butter. The first sip is focused on the fruit, the same juicy orchard fruit forecast by the aroma, but it does leave me wondering if that's its last gasp or if there's gonna be another layer of something more interesting. And then that extra layer pops on the back end, with a big backdraft of tobacco and a general earthiness, maybe obliquely evoking underbrush but much more savory. It makes for quite the contrast because the front end is all fruity and bona fide refreshing (!) while all the tertiary stuff is loaded in the back. The bright red fruit plays at the higher end of the scale so the darker earthy elements do a good job of making this complete. About 90 minutes in the fruit seems to show a deeper complexion, the palate thickens up, the texture picks up a bit more grit, and some of those interesting backpalate elements hit the bouquet. Turns out this is the second '22 Bordeaux I've had. A '22 Talbot from the same cellar a few years ago was at least as good - not as finessed, but a bit more going on in the flavor department. Broadbent gives the vintage a biting one star out of five with the remarks: "Good spring and early summer but spoiled by cold wet September. Huge crop but variable. Late pickers did best. Not worth seeking." So sounds like a year that had the chance to develop some good material if growers were able to save it at the end. This one clearly did. It's still a beauty in fine shape at 97 years old, and maybe a bit off peak, but not by much.
Ch. Mouton-Armailhacq 1928
Low fill, in fact only barely into the shoulder at all, but it was the last bottle in the cellar and a healthy ruby color was still visible through the thick glass, so we gave it a go. Cork comes out in one piece - it's the original cork and black as coal. The wine pours out light and pale, but still red, no browning or any sort of oxidized scents. It doesn't have much fruit left, what's there is mostly a dried, dusty cherry, but after expecting more on the entry it delivers on the back end, where the light fruit is overtaken by the stocky savoriness that only comes with full maturity alongside sensations of old wood, a mix of antique cedar spice box and decaying forestal logs, reverberating long enough on the backdraft you could almost call it perfumed. The word "retro-nasal" is used from time to time in winespeak but you'd be hard-pressed to find a better demonstration of it than this: about 50% of this wine and 100% of what's interesting about it is retro-nasal at this point. The fruit gains a bit of a boost with some airing, but not a whole lot. It peaks after about an hour and at the two hour mark even the dried cherry has segued into leaner, juicier apples which is pretty much the end-of-life stage.
Ch. Gazin 1952
Rarely seen vintage on account of the fact that the Right Bank excelled back when nobody was drinking Right Bank. I actually preferred this a notch to the '55 vintage a few of us had a year ago from the same cellar. Fill on this bottle was low/mid shoulder at best, but the color is a deep, luminous ruby with just the barest bricking at the edges and it's obviously in fine shape. On the first sip it's actually a bit backwards, gently herbal with the structural frames bolder than the fruit, but it fleshes out nicely, first with the fruit freshening up while retaining its structure and reddish complexion, then with the fruit turning blacker and fleshing out enough to cover the frame and leave a smooth, suave spherical impression and a polish you wouldn't have thought it capable of from that first taste. The interesting non-fruit elements of the flavor mostly come out on the back end, which features some black truffle and nuttiness. Food in particular did a lot to draw more personality out of this, which is what gave it the edge in my book over the more sweetly fruited but simpler '55.
J. Thorin 1955 Chambertin-Clos de Beze
Somehow this is the third '55 I've had from the now-mostly-forgotten J. Thorin, and no doubt the best. Maybe that's because the others seemed to be under a negociant label while this one indicates it was estate bottled from the Thorin domaines with an extra-fancy crest on the label too. Bottle is in perfect shape with a fill barely more than a centimeter below the cork and a vibrant Ferrari-red color. Like all the rest from Thorin this needed some air to get into gear and kept getting better, richer, and deeper. It starts out on the light side, enough that I'm thinking, hey, this is the first Thorin I've had that doesn't taste spiked with grenache! - red fruit with an ever-so-slight cooling Alpine greenery on the back end, showing its breed from the sheer silkiness of the texture. About an hour in it has put on serious weight. The fruit material is thicker and picks up a palpably sticky grip, along with layers of gravel and tar and aromas that combine a mild leatheriness with remarkably sweet, saucy blackberries and then some cinnamon and licorice with a bit more time. On the palate, too, the fruit becomes ridiculously intense for its age, in a sense you could almost call it primary because it is so vividly fruity, but it's in a more saucy, reduced fashion. It's thick outside the usual parameters of pinot and again I find myself asking the grenache question but it really doesn't taste grenachey and especially not old-grenachey, it just has that extra kick of thickness and fat to the point where you almost feel you could chew it and stretch it like gum. The laciness that characterized it at the outset has segued to a serious solidity, the palate feeling infused with asphalt. But to the very end it is still more fruit-centric than anything. Hope I'll still be this sunny when I'm 64.