All Things Grape and Small/Randy Sheahan

Wine Scene/QRW Staff

Tasting: Crème de La Champagne/QRW Tasting Panel

Rhône Sans d’Argent/Clive Coates, M.W.

Port: Make Mine Tawny/Richard L. Elia

Wining and Dining: Orlando/Edward and Mireille Guiliano

Dernier Cri: Much Ado/Randy Sheahan

QRW Crossword: Hold Onto Your Drink/Todd McClary

Randy Sheahan

The 1970 Ducru-Beaucaillou and I go back a long way. I first tasted this Second Growth red Bordeaux in 1976, and initially didn’t like it, finding it angular and tough. But a friend, who was a big fan of the wine, persuaded me to try another bottle. He was right. On second tasting, it proved to be delicious stuff: deep, rich, elegantly knit and well-structured. Over the years, I’ve had the opportunity to taste several bottles of ’70 Ducru, and the wine just gets better and better. In April of 2004, I was at a dinner party in Bordeaux hosted by a well-known négociant. The main course, a filet mignon, was accompanied by an unnamed red Bordeaux. The host asked us to guess what it was, suggesting we start with the vintage. After several wrong guesses, someone shouted “1970,” and the host replied, “Yes, but which 1970.” Feeling unusually emboldened, I said, “I know what it is,” and I proceeded to explain that it was an Haut-Médoc from one of the four major communes, but owing to style and confirmation, not from Saint-Estèphe, Pauillac or Margaux. In other words, it was a Saint-Julien. “Correct,” said the host, “but which Saint-Julien.” Without blinking, I said “It’s Ducru Beaucaillou.” And indeed it was. To be an accurate taster, said Alexis Lichine, you need a good memory. Well, I had so many vivid memories of ’70 Ducru, I couldn’t possibly miss it. Last June, I had the good fortune to attend a small dinner at Château Ducru Beaucaillou, and over a preprandial glass of Krug Vintage 1995 (a pretty fair quaff in its own right), I told Ducru owner Bruno Borie the story of my triumphant guess. When we sat down to eat, Bruno announced that besides what was listed on the menu, there would be “a mystery wine.” It was, of course, the ’70 Ducru, this time drawn directly from the Château’s own cellar. And how was it? Simply spectacular, with vibrant, cassis-like fruit, a lush, velvety texture, and complexity to beat the band. It was, in short, what it’s always been: a good, old friend.

Clive Coates, M.W.

Far and away the most amazing bottle to cross my path recently was at a special dinner in Beaune held to commemorate the 275th anniversary of the founding of Bouchard Père et Fils. It was no less than 161 years old, and it was a white wine: a Meursault, Charmes, 1846. Often venerable old bottles such as this are no more than a curiosity, and frankly not really enjoyable, much as the audience will swoon, as they did at a Château Montrose dinner I attended recently. But this wine could have been a 1995, such was its freshness, and indeed concentration. Remarkable!

Just so you do not think we wine hacks only drink 19th century bottles my second choice is one of my everyday wines: Château Thieuley, 2005, white Bordeaux. This is about as cheap as it gets (less than $10 on the shelf), but is an outstanding value. (And rather better than the oaky version, in my view.) I must have got through about 15 cases last year. I get just as much pleasure from excellence at this level as I do from grand cru and first growth.

The best wine at a comprehensive Griotte versus Chapele-Chambertin tasting in March in Guilford, Connecticut, was Joseph Drouhin’s 1985 Griotte. All the finesse of an Amoureuses together with the backbone of the village: 19 out of 20.

Best wine at a Château Coates dinner party? Hermitage, La Chapelle, 1978 (Paul Jaboulet Ainé). One of my guests even went as far as saying it was one of the best wines he had ever tasted. I wouldn’t go quite that far, but it was definitely excellent. I remember the wine took 25 years to mature, and sadly most of my stock was consumed too early. But I still possess four bottles.

The grandest wine I enjoyed at someone else’s table was a Ducru-Beaucaillou, 1961, opened to celebrate a 65th birthday. As far back as 1968, at the first comprehensive 1961 tasting I attended, it was impressive, if obviously not yet ready. Indeed it was voted third after Latour and Palmer. In 2007 it was quite sumptuous. Totally sublime!

Eleanor and Ray Heald

Continually intrigued by the complexity of red wines produced from old vines, we searched out several from Spain’s Priorat during a 2007 visit. Among many stellar examples we tasted at a number of cellers (Catalan for wineries), the 2004 Vall Llach D.O.Q. Priorat, $85, a blend of Cariñena (Carignan), Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon, stands out as a “best taste” of the year.

In the Priorat, Celler Vall Llach owns or rents a group of century-old vineyard estates, known in Catalan as “trossos,” located in Porrera and Torroja, two of the nine villages in southern Catalonia that form the Qualified Designation of Origin (D.O.Q.) Priorat. Because of its ability to source grapes from splendid century-old vines, planted in unique friable schist soils on steep hillsides that defy mechanized farming, Vall Llach, which introduced its first vintage to the international marketplace in 2000, may be young as a producer, yet one with a vineyard source advantage.

Opaque with black raspberry, black currant, mineral, brown spices, smoky and toasty characters, 2004 Vall Llach D.O.Q. Priorat showcases powerful fruit and structure with a finesseful finish. Given the pricey nature of many Priorat wines, Vall Llach bears a moderate price for its high quality.

Richard Paul Hinkle

Wine’s most valuable aspect (and asset) is that it is a social beverage. Its very existence is predicated on the joining of friends and family in social communion, sharing experience, sharing wisdom, sharing humor. Without being greedy, what could be better?

Two great experiences this year, one of which proves the rule, the other of which mdash; by its deviation mdash; also serves to highlight the normative communal experience.

Most recently, I hosted one of my “Men’s” Dinners. Guys only. Food, wine and guy conversation which, as per usual, ran the gamut from sports to politics, leavened by a healthy measure of jokes, lewd, crude and (occasionally) funny. (Why do they bury lawyers at sea these days? Because deep, deep down they’re not so bad!)

For that occasion I served the Clos Du Val Ariadne 2002, thick with fig and melon fruit, with “naked” pita chips and a jalapeño dip. Did a tri-tip for the main course mdash; abetted by garlic mashed potatoes and my famous Caesar salad (with anchovy paste) mdash; which went nicely with a recent vintage of Joseph Phelps Mistral, a hearty red, big enough to handle the marinade of the tri-tip. Dessert was simple, yet elegant: a fully-ripe orange-flesh honeydew melon with the Navarro Select Late Harvest White Riesling, one of the best of the type, fleshy-sweet with honey and apricot fruit.

The other occasion: a half bottle of Jensen Pinot Noir (Selleck, if you must know). Turned out to be as good as could be, sipping that succulent, black cherry-informed wine at leisure, nibbling at the cassoulet, and reminiscing on six-innings pitched that morning, and only one earned run. Company and conversation would have been nice, but this just happened to work out very nicely as a quiet, contemplative moment.

Gerald D. Boyd

When you taste wine for a living, it’s not easy to recall your top wine drinking experiences for the last 12 months; as I’m writing this in September, there are still more than three months left this year. Fortunately, for me 2007 was a year that offered the opportunity to taste many great red wines, of which four were memorable.

St. Patrick’s Day is a big deal in my house, with a big dinner of home-made soda bread, corned beef and cabbage, boiled potatoes and carrots, copious amounts of Guinness Stout and red wine. This year, we asked our guests to bring a California red wine from a winery bearing an Irish surname. The hit of the evening was the Concannon, Livermore Valley Petite Sirah 1965, which was in amazingly good shape, with plenty of ripe slightly jammy fruit, excellent acidity and soft but substantial tannins. The Limited Bottling was bottled in February 1969, at 12% alcohol and cost $2.75.

Another Joseph Phelps Vineyards Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon 1988, at a respectable 12.8% alcohol, was a lively specimen from a less-than-lively year for Napa Valley reds. The fruit was full and vibrant, supported by good acidity and firm refined tannins.

Then, we tasted the Franco Fiorina Barbaresco 1950 and were astounded! Fully expecting this “Vini Classici del Piemonte” to be on its last legs or dead, the wine showed surprisingly youthful fruit and complex notes of tobacco and earth notes; mature characteristics of aged Nebbiolo. This 58-year-old Barbaresco was far from drying out and carried the grilled steak with class and finesse.

Tom Hyland

uring my annual trip to Piedmont this past May, I had arranged a visit to the new cellars of the Renato Ratti winery on the outskirts of La Morra in the heart of the Barolo zone. Ratti’s son Pietro was my host and he was clearly excited to show off his new multi-million, multi-level structure built into the side of a hill and offering a splendid view of some of the most prized vineyard sites in the world. While the purpose of my visit was to sample his Barbera and get his thoughts on this everyday wine, the younger Ratti was kind enough to offer three vintages of his finest Barolo he labels as Rocche Marcenasco, from vineyards directly below his cellars.

The 2000 was quite round and graceful, but the 1999 and 1998 offered the greatest pleasure as they were richer on the palate with wonderful complexity; both were prime examples of why Barolo is such a supreme wine, as power and ripeness have little to do with its excellence. Rather it is subtlety and complexity combined with a sense of place that connects you with these vineyards in this small piece of heaven.