I had the good fortune to be invited to a small dinner with Bernard de Laage, director of Chateau Palmer last night. The theme was, that everyone should bring a bottle of a classic, non-Bordeaux wine; and Bernard could bring as much Palmer as he wanted. Before getting to the wines, I would like to commend Convivio on exceptional service in both food and wine. We were given boatloads of stemware and decanters, and wine service was handled smoothly and professionally. I can’t recall the last time I had such strong service on BYO wine. Also, the restaurant had prepared pads with all of the wines listed and flighted, a very nice touch.
We opened with two selections off the list. The first was Pacherhof Kerner Valle Isario 2009. It reminded me of Gruner Veltliner, very fresh but with some palate weight. Bernard thought it had too much sugar; I might have felt the same way if drinking half the bottle, but it didn’t bother me on an 8-way split. The other was one of Friuli’s famous “orange wines,” the Damijan Kaplja Bianco 2004, a blend of Chardonnay, Tocai Friulano and Malvasia Istria. The color was, indeed, orange, as were the flavors when it was first poured. There was a touch of oxidation, no doubt intentional, and with air, the tannin started to emerge. Fascinating wine, although I don’t think I’d want to have this sort of thing too often.
Because a number of people were late arriving, we’d had the “Historical XIX Century Blend Lot 20.04” as an aperitif. This 100 case cuvee was made in 2004, 2006 and 2007, and is a blend of 85% fruit from Chateau Palmer and 15% Hermitage from an unnamed source. The wine was made as an experiment with the 19th century practice of adding Hermitage to Bordeaux to give it additional weight; I’ve even heard stories of a very old merchant price list where “Lafite Hermitagee” traded at a premium to straight Lafite. The “20.04” designation means that it’s a 2004 vintage wine, but because it’s a blend from two AOCs, it cannot carry a vintage or appellation. I’ve had the wine several times and thought it was at its best on release, although it remains both interesting and tasty. The nose strongly suggests Rhone, with gamy syrah notes; on the palate there’s excellent red fruit, good acidity, well integrated wood, but a bit of oxidation that makes me worry about its future.
I’ve had the pleasure of dining with Bernard de Laage and technical director (who was not present last night) Thomas Duroux several times and it’s always a great experience. While their reverence for Palmer (which, despite the English origin of the name, they pronounce Pahl-MAIR in the French style) is obvious, they’re not afraid to find what they’d call “other expressions of Palmer,” such as the Hermitaged blend, or the white they’re now making from a blend of Muscadelle, Sauvignon Gris, Merlot Blanc and Lauzet, the latter a Jura variety that they are experimenting with. Bernard had brought the 2008, which showed a grassy nose, good freshness and acidity, but a light body which Bernard attributed to the young vines; until the vines are of an age to produce a wine with more body, the chateau will reserve the tiny production for their own use only.
The first flight of 4 Palmers had two casualties: because of a mixup, the expected 1970 became 1975, and the ex-chateau sample of 1976 was apparently horribly corked. So, the flight was 1960, 1975 and 1989, the latter supplied by the chateau. The 1960 was, as best as I can recall, the first time I’ve ever had any 1960 Bordeaux. It wasn’t a great Palmer, but it was a very good bottle of wine. Bernard noted iodine, and I picked up some smoky, ashtray-like notes. There were no signs of oxidation, and while it’s getting on, it was very much alive, and everyone asked for a refill. The ’75 is a wine with a good reputation, but I’ve yet to have a good bottle of it. This was overripe, very tannic, and disjointed. Fortunately the 1989 was magnificent, good red fruits, a bit of woodsmoke on the nose, perfectly balanced tannin, fruit and acidity, and while structured—I wouldn’t touch another for a decade—the tannin was ripe and not the least bit harsh.
The next wine, Vega Sicilia Unico, caused some dissension. About half the table thought it was corked. I’m usually moderately but not incredibly sensitive to TCA, and I quite liked this, although about an hour in I started to pick up what others were getting. If it was, it was mild. There was also good tobacco, nice medium weight, and some aggressive wood that I hope will integrate. If it does, this’ll grow up to be a great, classic Unico. It was paired with Castillo Ygay Gran Reserva 1959, a wine I’ve had a number of times. I really liked this bottle, although the owner professed disappointment compared to others from the same case, and Bernard de Laage pronounced it tired. The third in the group was, despite excellent provenance, a sadly totally shot bottle of Vina Real 1944. I’ve had enough incredible Vina Reals (Vinas Reales?) from the 1940s through 1960s that I bet a sound example of this wine would be terrific.
Most of the group thought the next wine, Chave Hermitage 1989, was the wine of the night along with the Palmer 1989, although one taster (an expert and wine professional) thought it lacked structure. My suspicion is that he’s used to Bordeaux, and the structure in Chave is all about acidity rather than tannin. It reminded me a lot of the 1983, another wine with lowish tannin that has been cruising along at the same high level over at least the last decade. Absolutely textbook Chave Hermitage. The Gaja Barbaresco 1978 perhaps should have been decanted; it was very correct Barbaresco, but just a little bit disjointed, perhaps either because it wasn’t decanted or because it had taken a fairly extensive tour of Manhattan that day. The BV Georges de Latour Private Reserve 1964 started out showing signs of oxidation, but with some fruit evident on the palate, and with aeration it freshened up and added some cinnamon and herbal American oak.
My contribution was the last thing opened, so I’m glad I didn’t send everyone home with the memory of me bringing a bum bottle! It was Bernkasteler Doctor BA 1971 from Deinhard, with a wonderful back label that says it was “produced solely in the BERNKASTELER DOKTOR Vineyard, straight not blended with any neighboring growths.” This is, presumably, a dig at the 1971 German wine law which expanded the historic boundaries of the Doctor vineyard to include part of Bernkasteler Graben. It showed burnt sugar, apple, apricot, and Bernard commented that it reminded him of Sauternes. It started out a little hollow on the palate, but after half an hour or so it had put on weight. I just love the combination of complexity, sweetness and acidity high enough to freshen the palate and keep the wine from being cloying, but not so high as to be out of balance.