It is very difficult to write a headline for the 2012 vintage. The growing season presented vignerons with almost every conceivable difficulty, with results that varied from disastrous to extraordinary, and much in between.
The weather problems began even before the growing season, with a deep freeze in February that, surprisingly, seemed to affect primarily the old vines, and reduced their production of berries; predominantly cool and wet weather from April through July, resulting in a poor flowering; oïdium [powdery mildew, which needs treatment in advance; once it appears, it is very difficult to control] and other diseases, all of which contributed to very small yields in 2012. Even the advent of sunny weather in August contributed to the problem, producing a number of sunburned grapes. However, by far the worst problem, which primarily affected the Côte de Beaune—and Volnay much worse than elsewhere–was hail. There were in fact two major hailstorms that affected portions of the Côte de Beaune, the first on June 30th, and another at the beginning of August. While yields in general were 30-50% lower than “normal, “ the variation from vineyard to vineyard could be considerable, and in parts of Volnay yields were often down 70% and even more. As more than one producer commented, the only problem they didn’t face in 2012 was botrytis (though there were some reports of that as well, especially among the whites). In the face of these difficulties, constant vigilance, and treatment, was necessary, and particular problems were presented for practitioners of biodynamics, whose repertoire of treatments is necessarily limited.
Despite all these travails, and the resulting short crop, dry and sunny weather finally arrived in August, and persisted through the harvest, which began around the 20th of September. The combination of low yields and fine weather (“August makes the must” is an old Burgundian saying) meant that those grapes that remained (and which were generally smaller than usual, with a higher-than-usual ratio of skins to juice) achieved full and relatively even maturity.
To the extent generalizations can be made, let me make a few: first, the best wines are in the Côte de Nuits, and the top wines are superb, most closely resembling the 2010s. The best 2012s have significant density, a balance of fruit and acidity, excellent terroir expression, silky textures, and fine tannins. That harmony, however, was not easily achieved, and there are certainly wines that fall short of the mark, even at the best addresses. Also, problems with oïdium devastated some of the vineyards located higher on the hill: there will be no Ponsot Clos des Monts Luisants, for example, and many producers in Bonnes Mares had significant problems, as detailed in the notes below. (Indeed, while in some vintages certain communes may be more successful than others, in 2012 it seemed almost to go vineyard by vineyard: consistently remarkable Chambolle Amoureuses, for example, as opposed to the problems in Bonnes Mares.)
In the Côte de Beaune, where the problems were worse, the results were far more irregular, though some red wines achieved quality levels close to the best of the Côte de Nuits. Among the white wines, that irregularity seems amplified, with some significant successes but many others that are less interesting. In particular, a number of white wine growers struggled with balance, as acidity levels seem quite pronounced in many wines.
Some well-known wines will not be produced in 2012, as yields were too low to commercialize the wines, and such juice as there was has been blended into premier cru and Village wines. Others will be very hard to find: a typical case allocation of D’Angerville’s Volnay Clos des Ducs, for example, may be replaced by a single magnum. Prices will of course be higher, but it is doubtful that prices can be raised enough to cover the shortfall (and, as several growers noted, many estates have lost the equivalent of two full years of production between 2010 and 2013). Nonetheless, as one courtier said, “we are all going to have to get used to paying more for less.”
A Word About the 2011s, and the Perils of Barrel Tasting
While our primary focus was on the 2012s, along the way we tasted a number of 2011s. While some of these were relatively consistent with what we tasted last year, others left us scratching our heads. These included wines from superb producers. Had they just closed up once in bottle, or was there something problematic in this vintage that had not been evident from our barrel tastings? That is what every experienced barrel taster fears: something negative that does not appear until well after the taster has drawn his conclusions, written up his notes, made his buying decisions. For a classic cautionary tale, go back and read Robert Parker’s original notes on the ’83 Burgundy reds (if you can find them; I think they quietly disappeared some years ago). There is no mention of the tastes of rot and hail that became obvious in these wines once they were bottled, and that mar most of them to this day. But on the other side of the coin are vintages such as 1991 in Burgundy that no one, not even the vignerons who made them, thought much of either at the time or for many years thereafter. Today, there are some classically beautiful wines from that vintage that far outshine their older siblings, the 1990s, which were so highly rated at the time.
Even with experience (and there is no substitute, in barrel tasting, for years of watching the wines grow up and being brutally honest with oneself as to what one did and did not see coming), there are plenty of other pitfalls for the barrel taster. Among these are: how representative is the barrel one is tasting from? If the sample is drawn from a new, or an old, barrel, what percentage of the final blend does that represent? Some producers will blend an old and a new barrel, but if the final percentage is not 50/50, that only partially helps. A few will try to mix the right proportion, but that’s complex, and not many bother. Similarly, some vignerons with significant holdings in a single terroir may vinify parts of the vineyard separately, so as to get a better view of how each section matures, and perhaps to treat it differently during the elevage. Again, are you tasting an accurate blend? Also, barrels may develop in different ways and at different speeds, which may affect the final blend. The weather, and cellar temperature, also play a role: one day, we heard two different vignerons (both straight-shooters) comment that a particular barrel was showing more reduction than it had just the day before. And on the subject of reduction, although November is considered by many vignerons to be the best time to taste the prior year’s wines, it is also a time at which, especially among the more non-interventionist winemakers, the wines will be in need of a racking and showing reduction, CO2, or both. While an experienced taster can still draw significant conclusions about these wines, depending on the degree to which the wine is affected, it will necessarily increase the amount of guesswork involved. Then there are the wines that, for whatever reason, are not showing at their usual level on the day you’re there: for example, La Tâche was not on form the day we tasted, but what do you conclude, if the Riche and the Conti on either side of it are superb, and you know the track record of La Tâche: that it isn’t up to snuff this year, and you’ve just saved yourself a lot of money, or that it just wasn’t in a mood to talk to you that day, and you could wind up missing out on a great wine in a great vintage?
Also, of course, there are many things that can go wrong between the time one tastes and the time the wine gets bottled, including the bottling process itself (a few years ago, I watched in some horror as a mobile bottler arrived in the street outside a small domaine to do the bottling on a 100-degree day). For all these reasons, I prefer not to score wines—even within a range—until after they’ve been bottled.
Would we all be a lot better off waiting until the wines are in bottle? Clearly. But the reality is that buying decisions have to be made well before then. The best advice I can give is to consult a few different sources, pay more attention to the descriptions than to the scores, note their palate biases (we all have them), and check in on your purchases periodically. As I’ve said before, the best I can hope to provide at this time is an educated guess, based on a snapshot.
Please see the Addendum to this Report (which will be available in a few weeks) for a discussion of the 2011s we tasted this visit.
RED BURGUNDY
Côte de Nuits
The Domaines
DRC. In a vintage where there are highs and lows, why not start at the heights? Great as these wines have been over many years, it is possible that the standards at the domaine have never been higher or more rigorous. We did not taste the Corton, as it had been racked just before harvest. The Echézeaux had great balance and ripe tannins, and seemed more refined than past examples—probably the result of a more rigorous selection of parcels in recent vintages. The Grands Echézeaux, however, was at another level: rich, dense, with silky tannins, amazing spice on the finish, and great elegance. On this particular day, the reduction seemed to be suppressing the fruit and spice of the Romanée St. Vivant, though there was an underlying sense of balance and volume. The Richebourg, by contrast, was totally expressive, with great power and density, more spice than RSV, and a hint of gaminess; it finishes with dense and refined tannins, and great persistence. It is as if the Richebourg, sensing the challenge that the RSV has given it in recent vintages, decided to pick up its game in ’12. (I know, personifying wine is more than a little over the top, but to quote Evelyn Waugh, “the pathetic fallacy resounds in all our praise of wine.”) La Tâche, despite a sense of kaleidoscopic spice and a great deal of fruit, seemed a bit raw-boned and acidic on this day, with some hard tannins. Is it just a phase, or did something end up slightly out of balance in this difficult and capricious vintage? Only time—and retasting—will tell. The Romanée-Conti, by contrast, was absolutely brilliant: a wine that dances across the palate notwithstanding its density, and that is the epitome of elegance, with creamy tannins and a subtle, immensely long and silky finish.
Liger-Belair. Louis-Michel Liger-Belair thinks these may be the best wines he has ever made, and based on our tasting, I would not disagree. This is one estate (of which there are a handful) where the ‘12s may even surpass the ‘10s. (The Domaine also continues to expand: in 2012, Louis-Michel bought the Nuits St. Georges 1er Cru Clos des Grandes Vignes, which not only gave him his first domaine white (a small portion of the vineyard is planted with chardonnay) but also makes him perhaps the only proprietor in Burgundy to possess monopoles in premier cru (the Grandes Vignes), village (Clos du Château) and grand cru (La Romanée).) Despite some fairly high levels of reduction at present, one could readily see the underlying quality of these wines. While there are no wines in the stable that I would not recommend in ’12, particular standouts included the Vosne Village, with pure red fruit, spice and minerals, and a lot of volume and complexity for a Village wine; the Vosne Chaumes (one comment that I heard not inaccurately suggested that Louis-Michel had succeeded in making a wine from this vineyard that was finally competitive with the other Vosne 1er Crus), which was pure, silky and elegant, but also with the density that characterizes this vintage; the Vosne Suchots (2 barrels in 2012), intense, balanced, and incredibly dense, yet with great tension—despite the density, it never feels heavy; the Vosne Brulées (only one barrel, and not commercialized), which had great energy, spice and complexity; and the Vosne Reignots, as usual the best of the premiers crus, pure, deep, intense and seamless, with great refinement. Among the grands crus, the Echézeaux was also excellent, with power and intensity and a huge amount of dry extract, and La Romanée was brilliant—pure, elegant, refined, with a silky texture—more in the ethereal style of the ‘10s, perhaps, than the denser and richer ’12 style. Overall, this was a superb range, of which Louis-Michel can justly be proud.
Georges Mugneret-Gibourg. This is yet another great success for the Mugneret sisters, who continue, with little fanfare, to make some of the best wines in Burgundy. Even the Bourgogne Rouge is noteworthy, punching well above its weight class. As at Liger-Belair, all the wines across the range can be recommended, but this year I found the premiers crus especially compelling, particularly the Nuits Chaignots, which had rich, sweet fruit and spice and excellent balance, without the slightly ponderous touch that often characterizes the wines of Nuits; and a Chambolle Feusselottes, which had enormous concentration and complex fruit, yet maintained great purity. The Echézeaux was also fine, with an elegant, minerally nose, sweet fruit and a citrus touch, excellent balance, and some significant but ripe tannins on the long finish. The Clos de Vougeot, not surprisingly, was also first-rate, with a slightly reticent nose hinting at great depth, blackberry fruit and a floral component, fine balance, and a lot of density and intensity on the transparent, long finish. The most interesting wine, though, was the Ruchottes-Chambertin. This is the first year that grapes from the young (now 12-year old) vines have been added back to the grand cru, and while I had imagined that the effect might be somewhat dilutive, it was astonishing to see how much energy and lift they gave to this wine. This was an extremely harmonious wine, the fruit and minerality in total balance, with a nice added floral component, elegant but with underlying sap and an intensity that showed most clearly on the long transparent finish, and with the tannins dense but quite ripe and fine. Perhaps this was the ideal vintage for the addition of a more youthful cuvee, given that the density of the vintage could (in some places) induce a tendency toward heaviness. In any event, it was an interesting lesson. While it is not difficult to acknowledge that the whole may be greater than the sum of the parts (Roumier’s Terres Blanches and Terres Rouges cuvees of Bonnes Mares, each an outstanding wine in its own right, combine to make a more complex, balanced and interesting wine), it is intriguing that lesser cuvees, some not so interesting in their own right, can enhance rather than dilute the final blend. See the discussion of Clos de Tart for a further example. (Did I just use the word blend? I thought they did that in Bordeaux, not Burgundy☺. But the truth is that not all Burgundian climats are monolithic terroirs, and there can be variations of soil, exposure, drainage, clonal selection, vine age, etc. within a single vineyard, particularly the larger ones. This in no way vitiates the underlying importance of the concept of terroir, or of the differences between climats, as a visit to any good producer who has multiple premiers crus within a single commune will readily demonstrate.)
Grivot. As I have noted in prior reports, the quality of these wines has in recent years risen to near-top levels. During our visit, Etienne Grivot was quite forthcoming about the changes in his thinking that have led to these improvements. He said that in the past his wines were more “somber” when young, more introverted, and were crafted to show their depth of character only after long aging. He contrasted this to the style of other vignerons whose wines have been flamboyant from the start but burned out after a period of time. He said, though, that just as he has seen many of those colleagues introduce a measure of restraint and seriousness, so he has been trying to make his wines a bit more extroverted in their youth, emphasizing their innate energy. He is very pleased with his ‘12s, believing that they may be the best he has made, and noting their superb harmony. His comments in this regard are certainly not misplaced. Beginning with a pleasant and balanced Vosne Village, and including a Nuits Charmois (a Village lieu-dit) that displayed great mineral lift, energy and drive, the successes here included a Nuits Boudots, which despite a good deal of reduction (as with most wines in this cellar at the moment), was minerally, penetrating and pure, developing a silky texture and with a lot of material, as well as tannins that seemed particularly refined for Nuits (even on the Vosne side); a silky, elegant Vosne Brulées; a high-toned, mineral driven Vosne Beaumonts, with tremendous dry extract and powerful but refined tannins, and a heavily reduced Vosne Suchots that nonetheless had beautiful balance, harmony, a silky texture and a bright, pure finish. The Echézeaux was very nice, with ripe cherry fruit supported by excellent acidity, though I thought the strong tannins just missed a little refinement, and the Clos de Vougeot, which seemed less brooding than usual, had a lot of sweet fruit and coffee/chocolate notes—although I liked this wine, I was not as enthusiastic as either my cohorts or Etienne. However, unanimity returned with the Richebourg, a wine that is just beginning to reveal its depths, but that looks to combine power and silk, the ideal combination for a great Riche. It is balanced and the tannins are dense but fine; I suspect that this will have much more to give in time.
Méo-Camuzet. The domaine wines achieved great success in 2012, and while I continue to find the negociant wines less compelling overall, there were some successes there as well. The Vosne Village was particularly good, among the best wines of this appellation that we tasted: dense, spicy and intense but with excellent balance and lift and a more interesting finish than one usually finds at this level. The Nuits Meurgers was also compelling, with pure raspberry and black cherry fruit and earth, spice and coffee touches, elegant for Nuits (this is the third time I’ve noted an unusually refined Nuits in this report, perhaps a gift of this vintage), and with fine transparency on the finish. The Corton Perrières was also a standout, with a gorgeous nose of sweet cherries, spice and minerals and excellent mineral lift in the mid-palate–an accessible and charming wine, though a little hardness to the tannins does suggest its Corton origins. The Echézeaux was very primary on the nose and medium weight on the mid-palate, but with huge dry extract coming through in back and an amazingly long finish. This was followed by a superb Vosne Brulées, which I even preferred to the excellent Cros Parantoux: the Brulées was incredibly dense and spicy, yet never lost its balance, its intensity perfectly matched with the lift given by the acidity, with vey refined tannins, a wine that will take years to show everything it has in reserve; while the Cros Parantoux, which showed its cool climate origins, was more closed than the Brulées, but had intense spice running throughout the wine, with a dense, deep cherry nose and a perfumed touch, a bit of wood showing, and a deep minerally finish with dry but refined tannins. The Richebourg was, as one might expect, superb: brooding, a touch reduced, but hinting at great depth, with a silky texture; it was the epitome of refinement, with a pure, long finish and tannins that were so refined as to be hardly evident, yet they will keep this wine for a long time.
Sylvain Cathiard. Sebastien Cathiard, who took over from his father in 2011, is making some careful but significant changes at this already highly respected Vosne estate, including some reduction in the new oak regime. These were impressive 2012s, and I expect even better things in the future from this reticent but serious young winemaker. A few wines were not showing well when we tasted, including the Chambolle Clos de L’Orme and the Vosne Reignots, but the large majority of the wines were quite fine. The Vosne Village was excellent here, with dense cherry fruit and spice and a developing silky texture, as was the Nuits 1er Cru Aux Thorey, which though a little marked by the oak had depth, earth and spice and a lovely transparent finish. Even better was the Nuits Meurgers, rich and dense, very earthy and with a fair amount of oak, but with a ripe fruit and pure mineral finish also showing spice and pepper notes, and the Vosne Suchots, which had deep cherry fruit on the nose, was ripe and intense on the palate, with mineral lift and again a very spicy, peppery finish, with ripe tannins and an elegant line. The Vosne Malconsorts had a touch of oak on the nose, but also huge dense fruit and spice, and hinted at even greater depth and intensity to come; on the palate, it had huge dry extract and penetrating minerality but retained its balance, and it ended with a silky, transparent fruit-driven finish, and refined tannins—a very impressive wine. Even more impressive was the Romanée St. Vivant, with an aristocratic, spicy and elegant nose; a silky texture, suave and silky tannins, and a long spicy finish, a wine that is tout en finesse.
Hudelot-Noellat. Overall, this estate, now run by the youthful but serious Charles van Canneyt, produced an excellent range of wines in 2012. Not everything showed equally well, but among the successes was an excellent Vosne Village, pure and charming with a black cherry finish and not a great deal of tannin (though a hint of tartness on the finish). The premiers crus were particularly successful (apart from a Vosne Beaumonts that had just been racked and was inaccessible), including the Nuits Meurgers, which was a soft, earthy, fruity and charming Nuits; a spicy dense Vosne Suchots, with a touch of violets on the finish and a sense of silkiness developing; and, most notably, a seductive Chambolle Charmes, with a great pure nose of complex fruit, spice and minerals; and an intense, perfumed, complex and structured Vosne Malconsorts, with a long spicy, complex and transparent finish. Among the grands crus, the Clos de Vougeot was very nice, with soft raspberry fruit and a spicy open finish, but possibly lacking the density one would expect in this vintage; the Richebourg was better, also with a relatively open structure, but muscular and with more ripe black fruits; and best of all was the Romanée St. Vivant, which was intense, spicy and creamy, with excellent density, good tension and balance and a long finish showing significant but refined tannins.
De Montille. While the bulk of this domaine’s holdings are in the Côte de Beaune, it has some noteworthy holdings in the Côte de Nuits, including in the Clos de Vougeot (which was not showing well on this particular day, as Etienne de Montille acknowledged), but most notably in Vosne Malconsorts, where it makes both a regular cuvee (a very fine wine with lots of rich sweet fruit and excellent acidity, some strong but focused tannins, and a sense of precision and balance on the spicy finish) and the brilliant Cuvee Christiane—an extraordinary wine in 2012, with an intense nose that included black cherries and spice but hinted at much greater depth, a palate that was perfectly balanced between fruit and acidity, and a spicy, complex and incredibly precise finish that went on for several minutes. There is a lot of great Malconsorts in this vintage, but this cuvee, from a plot located just under La Tâche, could well be the best.
Roumier. Though it hardly comes as a surprise, Christophe Roumier made utterly brilliant wines in 2012. While the combination of small quantities in 2012 and the already robust diversion of Roumier wines into the gray market (including, it would seem, by some designated importers) are likely to make the top wines difficult to find and wildly expensive, the Village Chambolle still remains relatively plentiful, and it is a huge success in 2012: intensely rich Chambolle fruit but with a strong mineral lift, and a long transparent finish. The Morey Clos de la Bussière seemed a bit flat and rustic by comparison, but the Chambolle Combottes was a return to form, more minerally than the Chambolle Village, very structured and balanced and with a lovely pure cherry finish, though some significant tannins. The Chambolle Les Cras was first rate, with incredible red fruit and spice, a silky texture, great density, and a pure intense mineral finish that went on and on. The Charmes Chambertin was the best iteration of this wine from Christophe that I can remember, with lovely raspberry fruit, a lighter, elegant style, ripe tannins and a long transparent finish. (This wine now comes solely from vines planted in 1991 and 1999, but Christophe says he finds it denser than when the older vines, now pulled up, were included.) The Ruchottes Chambertin was very structured, meaty and powerful, with a lot of dry extract, but there seemed to be, in addition to the expected reduction–which made it a bit difficult to access–a slight lactic note on the nose. The Bonnes Mares will be a great wine; it had an intense brooding nose, great purity on the palate, dark cherries, violets, minerals, and incredible depth, with a very pure mineral finish, sweet fruit and spice (and a chocolate note at the end) and refined tannins. Incidentally, although Christophe usually vinifies the Terres Rouges and Terres Blanches cuvees separately and then assembles them for the final blend, this year he did not. Nonetheless, given the problems in Bonnes Mares in 2012, this is one of the few genuinely successful wines from this vineyard in this vintage. The Chambolle Amoureuses (which Christophe this year showed after the Bonnes Mares, commenting that this is the style of wine he likes best) was totally harmonious, with a subdued nose hinting at incredible complexity and depth, red fruit and cinnamon; it was incredibly dense on the palate, but with a wonderful silky texture and remarkable finesse on the finish, which was immensely long and transparent—a grand cru Amoureuses for certain. The Musigny brought an appropriate close to this moment of reverie: spice, deep cherry fruit, beeswax and citrus on the nose, a high-toned, minerally core, an elegant, silky texture, and a delicate, refined finish that was even longer than that of the Amoureuses. A great range!
J. F. Mugnier. There are few greater pleasures than back-to-back appointments with Christophe Roumier and his next-door neighbor, Freddy Mugnier, two of the greatest winemakers in Burgundy, both making brilliant wines from many of the same appellations, yet in quite different styles–bringing to life Etienne Grivot’s remark that terroir does not speak directly but through its interpreters, who like orchestra conductors may bring different approaches to the same underlying score, and either create life and excitement, or leave one flat–or in some cases end up saying much more about the conductor than about the composer’s intent.
Speaking in gross generalities, Freddy tends to create more delicate and ethereal wines than Christophe, while Christophe’s wines tend to be more intense, if ultimately no less refined. Freddy’s Chambolle Village was restrained, with excellent complexity on the nose, a spicy, medium-bodied but pure and elegant wine, while his Chambolle Fuées was a tour de force: a lovely pure red fruit nose, silky texture, showing remarkable density in the mid-palate, with supple, fine tannins and a pure and persistent finish. The Nuits Clos de la Maréchale was characterized by huge sweet fruit, a big strike of earth in the mid-palate, and a lot of dry extract but some rusticity to the tannins, even though they are evolving towards more refinement. The Bonnes Mares was a bit hard to read, with some hard tannins up front, a large amount of dry extract, and a mostly mineral-driven middle, though not without some fruit. The Chambolle Amoureuses, however, was in another league: a sensational nose of pure red fruit, complex spice including a touch of cinnamon, and minerals, and a silky palate wrapping around a dense mineral core, with fine tannins and grand cru weight on the extremely long finish. The Musigny did not wilt under the competition, though, showing an intense nose of red fruit, violets, spice and a chocolate touch, with the classic orange top note of Musigny; on the palate, it had remarkable density, was highly structured and perfectly balanced, and finished with a kaleidoscope of flavors, fine tannins, and possibly a hint of heaviness (dry extract) in the mid-finish, but as it kept expanding, it opened again to greater clarity and seemed not to want to quit—nor did I.
Ghislaine Barthod. This was our first visit to this domaine, and it was an impressive one indeed. While there are no grands crus here, there are 9 different premier cru Chambolles, and any terroir skeptics (not that I know any, but I’m told they do exist) would do well to visit here and see for themselves the clear differences as one moves from one climat to another. Ghislaine Barthod is charming and passionate, and clearly loves her métier. While the Chambolle Village was pleasant, it was not on a level with the Roumier or Mugnier versions; however, things improved with the first of the premiers crus, a Chambolle Châtelots, with a high-toned raspberry, black cherry and mineral nose, medium body and a long transparent finish, and then jumped a level with the Chambolle Beaux Bruns (from the premier cru part of this climat), which had a deeper pitched nose of blackberry and blueberry fruit, excellent balance, good minerality and depth of fruit, and very ripe tannins–a wine of finesse. It was followed by Chambolle Les Baudes, more mineral-driven, with a nice touch of raspberry fruit and excellent balance; Chambolle Gruenchers, also mineral-driven, if more earthy and spicy, with slightly harder tannins, but very balanced; Chambolle Charmes, a particularly fine wine with a strawberry/mineral nose and complex fruit wrapping the mineral core, ripe and refined with a wonderful silky texture developing; Chambolle Fuées, a bit strict and unforthcoming, very structured, dense and persistent (70 year old vines); and Chambolle Véroilles (from a portion of this vineyard reclassified as premier cru in 1987 and a monopole of the domaine), which had dense sweet black fruit, spice, lavender and violets on the nose, as well as minerals—there was real power and intensity to this, yet it was still balanced and elegant, with a lovely spicy fruit finish and resolved tannins. To finish, the Chambolle Les Cras, with a profound nose that would even give the Roumier version a run for its money, was nuanced, complex and deep, the palate showing sweet red fruit and powerful minerality; this was a dense but harmonious wine, long and pure on the finish—superb quality.
François Bertheau. This was also our first visit to this domaine. François Bertheau refused to see us before 5:30 p.m., as he is out in the vineyards every day, and clearly he is more comfortable on his tractor than receiving visitors. This is a small, very old style domaine, with holdings in the heart of Chambolle. The fruit is 100% de-stemmed and there is minimal new oak, only about 18%. Triage is done in the vineyards. The wines had been racked in February, and were to be racked again in another month. There is no fining or filtration of these wines. The Chambolle Village had soft ripe fruit and was easy but not more. The Chambolle 1er Cru (a blend of 4 climats) had rich Chambolle fruit in the middle, resolved tannins and a soft and charming fruit finish, and the Chambolle Charmes was also soft, but with bright fruit and a transparent finish, if some hardness to it—both good but not great wines. However, the Chambolle Amoureuses was more impressive, full of fruit, with excellent acidity to give it balance, a silky texture, fine tannins and a very long finish. Sadly, there was no Bonnes Mares in 2012—the flowering was very poor, and the minimal amount harvested was not enough to vinify separately. While these are not wines to challenge Roumier or Mugnier, they are well made and do represent good value.
Ponsot. Laurent Ponsot was in a good mood the day we visited, and with reason. His 2012s are highly successful, even though quantities were significantly reduced. I particularly liked the Chambolle Charmes, with rich fruit, a sharp mineral edge to balance it, and an intense rich finish; the Morey Premier Cru Cuvée des Alouettes, with a dense, spicy and intense nose, great sweet fruit, spice, pepper, brambles and licorice on the palate, it is an enormous wine, especially for premier cru, yet at no point did it seem heavy; and Griottes-Chambertin, a perfect combination of fruit and minerality, with an absolutely brilliant long finish. I was less persuaded by the Chapelle-Chambertin and the Clos de Vougeot, whose intensely dark colors betokened what to me seemed too much extraction, and both of which were showing some heat at the finish. The Chambertin V.V. however, was terrific: while it had dense fruit, pepper and meat, it also had excellent lift, and the tannins were silky and refined. The two best wines, as usual, were the Clos St. Denis T.V.V. and the Clos de la Roche V.V. The Clos St. Denis had an extremely intense nose of spice, flowers, brambles and mushrooms, charming sweet fruit on the palate, good acidity lift, and complex spice on the finish, and silky tannins that nonetheless lingered along with the rich fruit and minerality. As great as it was, though, I did not think it quite came up to the level of the ’10 or the ’05. The Clos de la Roche had a spicy nose, though with a curious green fruit note at first that eventually opened to blue and black fruit; on the palate it was very intense, with excellent lift, exceptional depth, pepper and a nice citrus touch; on the finish, the tannins were very refined, and it became remarkably elegant and very prolonged. Overall, even if not quite across the board, this is another highly successful vintage for the domaine.
Dujac. Although we did not see the entire range, what we did see gave evidence of very successful wines here in 2012. The Morey Village started things on a good note, with a lot of dry extract for a Village wine, sweet fruit–an accessible and charming wine. The Gevrey Combottes had lovely richness and good balance, and while the sample, from a new barrel, showed the oak influence, the finished product will be a mix of old and new. The Charmes Chambertin was very reduced, and a little hard to get at, but the finish was quite pure, the fruit intense and the tannins totally ripe. Opinions differed on whether the Clos St. Denis or Clos de la Roche was the better wine, but even though the Clos de la Roche was very rich and dense, with good minerality and a lot of intensity, I found the Clos St. Denis more elegant, with a silky feeling to it, great balance, and a pure fruit-driven finish. Only the Bonnes Mares seemed unpersuasive on this visit (fitting the pattern previously noted): it had a candied citrus note, medium weight, and seemed not totally knit, the tannins a bit strong.
Clos de Tart. As usual, Sylvain Pitiot presented us with a range of different cuvees, including mid-slope de-stemmed, lower slope whole cluster, press wine, 26-year old vines, very young vines, and the top of the vineyard (which had a very small yield due to oïdium). The latter was clearly the best and most complete of the cuvees, but the blend (excluding the press wine) was far more interesting even than this cuvee, and much more than the sum of the parts. It had deep fruit and spice on the nose, with gingerbread and a hint of tar coming up on the palate, overall with great weight and presence, excellent balancing acidity, and a spicy ripe fruit finish with elevated tannins. It was a very fine wine, though the increasingly aggressive pricing structure that Mommessin is adopting for this domaine does raise questions about the value proposition.
Clos des Lambrays. It was sad to see the empty cellar here, as quantities were down 50% in the red wines (and 80% in the whites). The Morey 1er Cru Les Loups, of which there are only two barrels, was very nice but may never be commercialized. The fruit on the nose of the Clos des Lambrays was very high-pitched, while on the palate this was fairly dense for Lambrays and intense, with strong acidity, and on the finish the tannins seemed a little hard, but as Thierry Bruin pointed out, the wine needs a racking, and he believes that between this, and four more months in barrel, the tannins will emerge far more polished. I do expect that this will eventually be a very good wine.
Château de la Tour. François Labet has for some time now been producing superb Clos de Vougeot, and his own domaine wines, mostly Côte de Beaune reds and whites that are discussed below, have also gotten better and better. He describes 2012 as a bit of a cross between ’09 and ’10, and feels it was perfect for his emphasis on whole cluster fermentation. While I was not sure how well knit the otherwise rich and ripe Clos de Vougeot (which he refers to as cuvee classique) was, the Vieilles Vignes cuvee was superb: there was huge density on the nose, with black cherry, hints of game, cocoa and cinnamon; on the palate it was very dense with huge dry extract and strong minerality, and the significant tannins on the finish were nonetheless highly refined. Even better was the Hommage à Jean Morin. (This wine, first made in 2010, from the first grape cluster above the graft on each vine, is only produced in the best vintages, and only about 600 bottles are made.) On the nose, there was a deep minerality, both red and black fruit, cocoa, and smoke; on the palate, it was even denser than the VV, quite closed but hinting at great depth and richness, with densely textured, refined but significant tannins, and an intense, brambly finish. It will take much longer even than the VV to evolve, and it certainly is different in character from that wine. Is it better, though? I hope to be around in 30 years to find out.
Trapet. Since he began restraining the oak treatment several years back, Jean-Louis Trapet’s wines have gone from strength to strength. While yields were severely reduced in 2012, and some cuvees combined, the resulting wines are extremely good. The Gevrey L’Ostrea, which underneath the gassiness was pure, dense, meaty and spicy, with a dense but pure cherry finish, was particularly good, but it may end up being combined with the Gevrey Village, itself a very nice wine. Also, in 2012, the premiers crus have been combined into a single cuvee (to be called “Alea”), which is quite lovely and well balanced, with spice, cherry fruit, meaty undertones and a very intense minerally finish. The Chapelle Chambertin, despite some reduction, showed a bright pure nose, dense palate impressions, and some mellow tannins under the reduction, leading to a very long finish. The Latricières had a beautiful pure nose and was minerally if a bit Spartan on the palate; though sweet fruit was lurking underneath, this wine seemed a bit monastic next to the Chapelle. The Chambertin was particularly fine, with ripe, intense fruit but also mineral lift, the tannins not insubstantial but quite ripe, and a very persistent finish that combined power and purity.
Bruno Clair. While I have been a fan of this domaine in recent years, I thought that overall they performed a bit below my expectations in 2012—though with some significant exceptions. None of the Marsannays was particularly compelling, and I thought the Savigny Dominodes, usually an excellent wine here, to be a bit lacking in fruit—though to be fair, others liked it a good bit more than I did. Among the various lieux-dits, the standout was the Chambolle Véroilles (the Village version of the 1er cru we had at Barthod). It had a beautiful cherry nose, with good intensity, and on the palate it showed a silky texture, good balance and medium body, plus of course lots of sweet Chambolle fruit—indeed, it seemed almost ready to drink. The Gevrey 1er Crus were better, with a good quality Fontenys and Petite Chapelle, but the quality ramped up significantly with the Gevrey Cazetiers, which had a very strong mid-palate presence, showing both red and black fruit, smoked meats and minerals, a lot of dry extract and ripe tannins, with a long pure spicy finish. The Clos St. Jacques was equally fine though quite distinct, an elegant wine with a really lovely silky quality, supple, pure and delicate but delineated. The Clos de Bèze was, as usual, outstanding, silky and elegant, with pure fruit (but more mineral than fruit driven), extremely refined tannins, and an overall sense of purity. The Bonnes Mares, served last, was not so successful—as I’ve noted earlier, many were not in this vintage—with an off note in the nose that I was not able to identify, and a subtle but disturbing element of sous-bois on the palate, which vitiated the otherwise attractive fruit component of this wine.
Tortochot. This was also a first visit. Chantal Tortochot is engaging, chatty and a font of information on subjects great and small; in fact, despite the moderate number of wines to be tasted, we found ourselves rushed at the end of our usual 1.5 hour visit. Surprisingly, most of the wines, including the premiers crus and two of the grands crus, had recently been bottled. Overall, I found that the wines, like their proprietress, had a good deal of charm but were not always as focused as one might prefer. Among the ones I liked best were the Gevrey Corvées, a soft, balanced and supple wine that was nonetheless hiding a good deal of extract; Gevrey Lavaux St. Jacques, which had delicacy and balance; Gevrey Champeaux, with soft blackberry and blueberry fruit, spice, stones, a touch of meatiness and excellent density; Mazis-Chambertin, with red berries and iron on the nose, was a structured wine, showing its (90%) new oak, but also transparent on the finish–overall it had good intensity; and, from barrel, a very elegant Chambertin, with plenty of material, balanced, long and nuanced. Overall, the proportion of new oak is a bit higher than I’d like, and the wines as I noted a bit more soft-focused, but the prices are extremely reasonable and represent good value.
The Negociants
If you’ve read this far, you’re probably wondering, so what’s not to like about this vintage, at least in the Côte de Nuits. However, as I caution each year, the domaines we visit are at mostly the top of the Burgundy heap, and we tend to drop those that aren’t. It is usually at the negociants that one gets a more accurate picture of the overall quality of the vintage, as—quality-minded as they may be–the sourcing is more variable. As will be seen from the descriptions below, 2012 was not a uniform success, even in the Côte de Nuits.
Drouhin. As those of you who follow this blog know, Drouhin is one of my favorite estates, making wines from its domaine properties that often rival the very best that Burgundy has to offer. But while we saw some superb offerings again this year, Drouhin was surprisingly stingy with its grands crus, so that this year for the first time we did not taste the Grands Echézeaux, Bonnes Mares, or Musigny, as there will be little if any of these wines available. All of the reds we saw (including two very nice Beaunes, the Clos des Mouches rouge and Grèves) were showing well, except for the Griottes-Chambertin, which as usual was very reduced (but nonetheless is likely to be quite fine). The Chambolle 1er Cru, always an excellent value, had a great deal of dense red fruit but good acidity to balance, with lots of spice and a charming strawberry finish. The Clos de Vougeot was quite good, even if overshadowed by two premiers crus: the Vosne Petits Monts, with intense fruit, a complex wine with great mineral lift and energy, and the Chambolle Amoureuses, with a deep cherry nose and a perfumed finish; it was a deep, balanced and elegant wine, and holds its own with the best Amoureuses in this vintage. The Clos de Bèze was powerful and masculine, with great depth and silky tannins; despite its power, it was still an elegant Clos de Bèze.
Faiveley. Apart from a very nice Corton Clos des Cortons Faiveley, most of the wines we saw were from the Côte de Nuits. Overall, while there were a number of outstanding wines, I found some variability here. Among the wines that I particularly liked were the Nuits Damodes, characterized by soft, pure fruit and also soft tannins, seemingly likely to drink early; and the Nuits Les St.-Georges, with an elegant, high-toned nose, a soft center, but good lift and balance, a lot of dry extract, and refined tannins. Of the Chambolles, the Amoureuses stood out: with sweet red fruit and spice, it was plush and charming, with a plummy touch but also a minerally, spicy finish (the Chambolle Beaux Bruns and Charmes, both from purchased fruit, seemed to lack concentration). Gevrey Cazetiers was also very good, with an immense and intense finish, and powerful tannins, but even better, in my view, was the tiny Gevrey Clos des Issarts, with an excellent minerally center, floral and citric notes, good tension and modulated tannins. Among the grands crus, I especially liked the Latricières-Chambertin, hinting at great depth, with excellent lift and tension in the mid-palate, and a soft, elegant finish. (Bernard Hervet found pomegranates in this wine, an interesting observation though I couldn’t quite get there myself.) The Mazis was also excellent, with lots of dry extract, violets, spice, and meat, a penetrating and complex wine; while I slightly preferred the Latricières, several other tasters gave the nod to the Mazis. There was no dispute, however, about the superiority of the Clos de Bèze Ouvrées Rodin, a brilliant success once again, with a nose that sucks you in, hinting at depths that will only reveal themselves fully over time, a creamy texture, a wine that was at once massive and perfectly balanced, with great tension and harmony, silky tannins and an almost endless finish. While the Ouvrées Rodin was first bottled separately in 2010, this may finally prove to be a Bèze to rival Rousseau at the pinnacle of Gevrey.
Bouchard. (Note: the Côte de Beaune reds and whites are reviewed separately below.)
In the Côte de Nuits, Bouchard’s holdings are far less significant, and half of the ten wines we saw were negociant wines. I generally did not find these wines compelling, with the exception of a very fine Echézeaux, with nice citrus, rich fruit, density, good balance, and a very long and spicy finish. The Clos de Vougeot and Nuits Porrets St. Georges also showed promise, though they were a little hard at this point. Typical perhaps of some of the issues of the vintage were the Chambolle Noirots and Vosne Suchots, which both seemed a bit fat and lacking balance, and a Bèze that seemed relatively light and uninteresting.
Jadot. By contrast to Bouchard, but more in keeping with the overall theme of the vintage, here the greater successes seemed to be in the Côte de Nuits. Among the reds of the Côte de Beaune (the whites are discussed separately below), only the Beaune Clos des Ursules stood out for me. However, further north, the Chambolle Baudes was quite transparent, with a rich fruit finish, if tannins that seemed not quite as refined as one might wish. The Gevrey Clos St. Jacques, possibly the best wine of the entire range, had a lovely spicy nose with a touch of grilled meat, and on the palate was very minerally and transparent, with good tension and excellent weight; the tannins were supple and the finish very long. Others liked the Vosne Malconsorts, but I found it pleasant but lacking tension, and the Echézeaux was disappointing, as was the Clos de Vougeot. The Chambolle Amoureuses had a lot of charming fruit, which mostly hid its shortcomings (too much oak on the nose and a bit of heat at the end.) The Bonnes Mares, from a new barrel, had an acetone nose, and a second sample, drawn from a year-old barrel, was less unpleasant but still not what it should be. However, the Grands Echézeaux was supple and enticing, and the Musigny was silky, elegant and balanced on the palate. The Clos St. Denis was also quite fine, with good line and minerality, an elegant nose and a spicy finish. The range of Gevrey grands crus was overall the most successful, particularly the Griottes, with a lot of dry extract and a bright minerally finish, and the Chapelle, with a stony nose that I quite liked and sweet, supple fruit on the palate, with a mineral underpinning. Best was the Chambertin (the Bèze seemed pleasant but soft), with no sharp edges, a supple and charming Cham with ripe and refined tannins.
Camille Giroud. David Croix is an exceptionally talented young winemaker, though as with any winemaker who is mostly dependent on purchased fruit, he is always to some degree going to be at the mercy of the conscientiousness (and competence) of his suppliers. The Côte de Beaune wines are considered below, but while the range of wines in 2012 was quite a bit smaller than usual here, there were some significant successes in the Côte de Nuits. I particularly liked his Vosne Villages, which had bright fruit showing under a fair amount of CO2, good spice and depth, and a silky quality; the Gevrey Lavaux St Jacques, a bit hard to get at because of reduction, but showing great density and an excellent texture, and a particularly fine Chambertin, with a sense of real purity and lift—an elegant Cham, with a spicy, peppery, very long finish.
Côte de Beaune
The Domaines
Marquis d’Angerville. Guillaume d’Angerville was almost mournful as he showed us his nearly empty cellar. Volnay not only suffered badly from hail in 2012, but again in 2013. Guillaume said his average yield in 2012 was about 10 hl/ha, and about 14-15 hl/ha in 2013. Despite press reports, he said, the hail in 2013 was not as destructive as in 2012 (though the 2013 hailstorm cut a wider swath). Because of the small quantities of ‘12s, our tasting was abbreviated this year, but what we saw was of high quality. The Volnay Frémiets had spicy, sweet red fruit and a nice minerally finish, while the Volnay Champans had deeper-pitched fruit, a perfumed note, and good density; it was not quite finished with malo (!) and thus seemed a bit hard at the end but there was a lot of promise. The Clos des Ducs, also not finished with malo, nonetheless was developing a lovely texture, with some rich fruit and a sense of complexity. Guillaume also told us, in a comment echoed by others, that in the past, one would have tasted the effects of the hail (a certain hardness, and also sometimes a ‘mousy’ taste), but that, while the vines do go into shock for a week or so after the storm, the vignerons now do a natural healing treatment, and as long as the hail happens early in the season, the vines are able to produce clean fruit (though triage is still very important). I do have to say that in general, I tasted far less of the ‘gout de grêle’ in this vintage than I expected, though I would also offer two caveats: first, that many wines are showing reduction in November, and so there can be a hardness in the finish of the wine that is not always easy to distinguish between an effect of reduction (which will likely go away) or of hail (which likely won’t). Also, the full effects of this taste are not always apparent in barrel, so that, for example, initial reports on the ‘83s did not always reflect the flavors of hail and rot that were so apparent in the bottled wines.
Lafarge. Perhaps because Michel Lafarge has seen more Burgundy vintages than most still-active vignerons, the Lafarges seemed philosophical about the misfortunes of recent years, though Frédéric Lafarge noted that in 2012, they had about 20% of a normal crop, and that it was the lowest yield his father could remember. He also noted the apparent change in weather patterns: that the hailstorms used to come down the combes and just destroy a narrow sector of the vineyards, but that in 2012, and even more disastrously in 2013, they moved south to north along a wide swath of the Côte. Several wines will not be separately issued in 2012, including the Volnay Vendages Selectionées; all will be in the Volnay Village, which had dark fruit, cinnamon and spice; and the Beaune Aigrots and Grèves, which were blended to make a very intriguing Beaune 1er Cru, with clove, cinnamon and a touch of earth, plus red fruit and a minerally finish. Among the Volnays, there was a ripe and balanced Volnay Mitans, which showed a bit of dry tannin at the end that suggested the effects of the hail; a somewhat light and delicate Volnay Clos du Château des Ducs; a light, tender, but elegant and charming Volnay Caillerets, with a lovely nose of violets and black cherries; and an intensely aromatic Volnay Clos des Chênes, as usual the best of the range, with some strong but ripe tannins and a very long finish.
Comte Armand. Benjamin Leroux told us that, overall, the bad flowering and sunburn caused more loss in 2012 than hail. Yields at this estate in 2012 were 12 hl/ha, but only 8 hl/ha in 2013. As usual, the winemaking here was of an extremely high standard, with a very good Volnay Village, made using 25% whole cluster, which showed excellent fruit and great purity, if a touch of heat at the finish, and an excellent Volnay Frémiets (though only 2 barrels were made), made with 50% whole cluster, showing very ripe plummy fruit on the nose, a lot of complexity and density, and a great mineral finish. We then tasted two different cuvees of Pommard Clos des Epéneaux, and the final blend, which was first-rate: a nose that kept on expanding, with black cherry, minerals, earth and a floral touch, intense fruit on the palate supported by excellent acidity; on the finish, the tannins seemed a bit assertive, though according to Benjamin this reflects the recent addition of SO2 rather than the innate character of the wine.
Chandon de Briailles. Here, Claude de Nicolay cited the mildew and bad flowering as the principal culprits in reducing the crop by half. The Savigny Les Fournaux and Lavières were both good, with the former showing a lot of ripe fruit and transparency, and the latter more stony, with a touch of violet, but the fruit seeming a little suppressed and the acidity more in evidence. The Pernand Ile des Vergelesses was very dense and peppery, with excellent purity and spicy black cherry. The Corton Bressandes, though, was not showing well today and despite some bright fruit, it seemed quite astringent on the finish.
De Montille. Etienne de Montille is a strong believer in the use of whole clusters, and often it serves him well, though I do think there are times (and wines) when he might be better served to throttle back. For example, though the Beaune Grèves had a lot going for it, one also could sense the unripe stems on the nose, and the Volnay Mitans, whether for this or other reasons, seemed on the heavy side for Volnay. However, the Volnay Taillepieds showed great potential: it was intense and dense, with bright acidity and excellent lift, while the Pommard Rugiens was spicy, earthy, with lovely lift to the mid-palate, ripe fruit, and developing along elegant lines; and the Corton Clos du Roi, while still in its shell, was quite dense, with a long ripe fruit finish and moderate tannins. (See above for a review of his Côte de Nuits wines, including the spectacular Vosne Malconsorts Cuvee Christiane, and below for a review of the white wines.)
Senard. The ever-charming Philippe Senard conducted our tasting, though he passed the winemaking duties to daughter Lorraine several years ago. He noted that quantities were about 60% of normal in 2012. The wines here in ’12 are generally of good, though not outstanding, quality. The Aloxe-Corton Les Valozieres had a lot of rich fruit, and some strong but not harsh tannins—a wine that has body and power but needs time. Indeed, the tannins on most of these wines seemed a bit stronger and more persistent than elsewhere, but perhaps that reflects as much the character of the hill of Corton as anything else. The Corton Clos des Meix was dense, with dried herb, cinnamon and bacon notes as well as sweet fruit, and a chocolate touch at the end; the Corton Paulands seemed less successful, but the Bressandes was on form, with pure black cherry fruit and good balance, and the Clos du Roi, which had the deepest color by far, had dense spicy fruit, medium body, notes of cinnamon and smoked meat, and a bit of hard tannin on the finish which nonetheless seemed fairly refined.
Pierre et François Labet. François Labet of Ch. de la Tour also makes wines from his own domaine, which have gotten better and better. Reds include a quite nice Bourgogne Pinot Noir V.V., which had a lot of bright fruit and nice acidic support; a Beaune Marconnets (Village) which had very sweet fruit but a lot of acidity to keep it fresh; and a Beaune Coucherias 1er Cru, which was much more minerally than the Marconnets, with good lift and structure if slightly earthy tannins.
Other Domaines:
Michel Gaunoux. As always, a terrific visit with the Gaunoux family, but since they do not show unfinished wines, the ‘11s and older wines we tasted are discussed in the addendum to this report.
Bernard Moreau. While the excellent white wines of this domaine are reviewed below, Benoît Moreau did show us a number of their reds, including a Chassagne Village (Vieilles Vignes), Volnay Santenots and Caillerets, and Chassagne La Cardeuse (a monopole). Of these, I found only the last to be interesting; it was intense, rich, minerally and pure, with great fruit expression.
Paul Pillot. From another excellent white wine maker, a straightforward but pleasant Bourgogne and a slightly simple but charming and well-made Chassagne Clos St. Jean.
The Negociants:
Bouchard. While overall the reds reflected the mixed results of this vintage in the Côte de Beaune, there were some good wines (Beaune Clos de la Mousse, a delicious fruit-forward wine; Pommard Rugiens, a relatively open-style Pommard) and some standouts: Beaune Teurons, a refined combination of fruit and minerals; Volnay Caillerets Cuvée Carnot, which had a creamy note, good black cherry fruit, spice, minerals and great persistence, if a slight dryness in the back which reflected the hail; and, best of all, the Beaune Grèves Vigne de L’Enfant Jesus, with a refined nose of spice, minerals, red fruit and wheatmeal, refined tannins, and an earthy and rich finish, with good acidity and even better persistence.
Camille Giroud. In general, and not surprisingly, the Côte de Beaune reds were less successful than those of the Côte de Nuits, with an inexpressive Volnay Village, a somewhat clunky Beaune Les Avaux, a much better Beaune Les Cras, with pure bright fruit and a creamy texture, if slightly light on the finish; a Volnay Santenots with some excellent clarity but also the note of toughness I often find in Santenots; and, finally, an excellent Corton Clos du Roi, with good density, some hard Corton tannins but a sense of refinement, a wine which will take time to reveal itself but holds a lot of promise.
WHITE BURGUNDY
A Note on Premature Oxidation (Premox): no end is in sight, nor can it be said that any significant progress has been made. Burgundians seem now to be hunkered down into three camps: those who see the full dimension of the problem and are pushing for more resources to be devoted to it; those who have changed to non-cork closures, and made other adjustments, and who are hoping that they’ve largely solved the problem for their wines (they haven’t, but at least they may have ameliorated it to some degree); and those who still don’t get it. Of course, this is a bit of an oversimplification, but not much. Perhaps the most interesting conversation we had on this subject was with Frédéric Barnier of Jadot. For many years, we had listened to Jacques Lardière be dismissive of the problem (though Pierre-Henry Gagey would dutifully upbraid him each time he was within earshot). Now, Barnier readily acknowledges the problem (its about time, as I have in recent months seen premoxed Jadots in both ’07 and ’08 vintages) and said that they are taking several actions. The first is to move to Diam corks, which he described as sending a message to consumers that they are serious about fixing this problem. But he also described a number of smaller steps that Jadot has taken. His view is that the issues are not so much with the pressing (contrary to a theory with a lot of currency at the moment), or indeed in any of the early stages of winemaking, because wines that are in contact with the lees can absorb a lot more oxygen without ill effect. Rather, he thinks that the wines become much more sensitive to oxidation in the latter stages of the elevage, and consequently Jadot is moving to be more precise in all of the handling of the wines during this phase. I am not sure I fully buy into this—first, the amount of battonage (lees stirring) seems to be a significant predictor of the percentage incidence of premox, and second, most small producers do not have the same issues of distance between tanks and barrels as does a large operation such as Jadot–but the more experimentation, the better. Still, the precise causes of premox remain unknown, the problem is not going away, and whenever one drinks a great aged white, from before the premox era, the sense of loss remains palpable.
The Domaines:
Leflaive. Since Pierre Morey’s retirement, this domaine—still thought of as the leading white wine domaine in Burgundy—has turned quite erratic. Once one of the few estates that could boast of a low incidence of premox, it no longer seems immune (in September, two of three bottles of ’07 Bâtard opened at a dinner were showing distinct signs of premox). And in recent years, such as ’11, the quality has been quite variable across the range. Given the significant doubts that have begun creeping in among Leflaive aficionados, it is a pleasure to report that the ‘12s are not only highly successful, but that the quality is evident across the entire range. Quantity, however, is another story; Antoine LePetit told us that quantity was down by about 50% in 2012. While the first hailstorm did not significantly affect Puligny, the early August hail did substantial damage in both Puligny and Meursault. As did others, he described the de-stressing treatments (arnica and valerian), which help the vines recover. Nonetheless, the ratio of juice to skin in the berries was low at harvest. The wines had finished malos by July, been racked in mid-September, and were, as usual, in tank when we tasted them. The quality parade started with the Puligny Villages, which had nice lemon, citrus, spice and floral notes and a lot of dry extract at the end–a wine that will need a few years of cellaring. While the Meursault Sous de Dos D’Ane did not seem fully knit, the Puligny Clavoillon was a particularly fine example of this climat: pure, floral, with good minerality, well balanced, and more elegant than usual for this often slightly blunt wine. The Folatières was, to me, the standout among the premiers crus, with a deep nose, a complex balanced palate with notes of minerals, flowers, cherry, spice and citrus—a wine with a lot of weight yet no heaviness, and a powerful finish. The Combettes and Pucelles were also very fine, with the former showing a deeper pitched minerality on the nose, intensity, purity, power and tension–a wine that is holding a lot in reserve; the latter was much more discreet, with spice, lime, and a soft floral entry concealing a lot of dry extract behind. Both the Bienvenues and the Bâtard were first-rate, the former with excellent volume, purity and lift—a relatively powerful Bienvenues, with a lot of dry extract, and clearly needing time to develop; the latter rich and exceptionally dense, with flowers, lime, minerals and butterfat, great balance, a citrus kiss, good mineral lift and tension, and a pure finish. The Chevalier was even better, with a discreet white flower nose, still unevolved but suggesting subtlety and balance, a complex fruit center and then penetrating minerality on an extended finish, a wine also needing a good deal of time to develop fully.
Guy Roulot. At Roulot, some wines were still in malo and so not shown; the wines we saw had been racked in mid-September. Overall, quantity was down about 60%, though less for the premiers crus. The Meursault Vireuils had not yet settled down and Jean-Marc admitted it was too early to taste this. However, the Meix Chavaux was quite nice, with a nutty, minerally quality balanced by white flowers and a touch of butterfat. The Luchets was a total contrast to the Meix Chavaux, denser and more intensely minerally, if perhaps lacking a little fruit, while the Tessons was large-framed, with good grip—still a bit closed, but with lots of material. The Clos des Boucheres was hiding under a blanket of SO2, but seemed to have a lot going for it, with excellent length and balance. The Perrières was very stony and intense, with a lot of dry extract and with sweet fruit, citrus and spice coming up on the long finish—this should be a very fine wine in time.
De Montille. Here too, quantities were down significantly, by around 60% in the whites (as well as in Volnay and Pommard). Etienne described his ’12 whites as very dense, with a thick texture and a lot of acidity; alcohol levels were generally under 13%. Malos were also quite late, and some were just finishing. Overall, I did not find the Château de Puligny wines compelling, though there was a fine St. Aubin En Remilly, with excellent presence, sweet fruit, good mineral lift and a long finish. The two Domaine whites, however, were showing very well, including a very nice Corton-Charlemagne with good balance and an especially lovely finish combining pears and minerals, and an extremely fine Puligny Caillerets, which had only recently finished malo: while the nose was relatively unevolved as yet, the palate showed rich fruit, great density, strong but not overpowering acidity and a long complex finish that hinted at greater things to come.
Latour-Giraud. The crop was down a bit over 50% here in 2012. Jean-Pierre’s malos were late, and the Meursault Perrières had still not finished (he said that some estates had finished malos in March, but we did see a lot of late malos this vintage). Jean-Pierre sees the same concentration as in the ‘10s, but believes there will be more fruit in the ‘12s. The Meursault Cuvée Charles Maxime was still turbid and not showing, while the Narvaux showed more purity but was still in a phase where it was difficult to taste. The Meursault Charmes, which had finished its malo two months earlier, was very fine, with sweet fruit on the nose, a lot of material underneath–a light, elegant wine, though the minerality came up on the long finish. The Meursault, which had only finished its malo two weeks earlier, nonetheless was exhibiting elegance, excellent lift, and purity under the lees and acidity, and showed excellent promise. The Meursault Genevrières Cuvée des Pierres, which had finished malo the end of August, was large-framed, with a pure nose of black cherry, flowers, minerals and a touch of beeswax, a bold, massively structured wine with lots of acidity, but also a very rich finish of peaches, pears, citrus and minerals. It will be interesting to watch these wines develop.
Bernard Moreau. In Chassagne, the problem was not so much hail but, according to Benoît Moreau, sunburned, or grilled, grapes, which happened in late August. Quantities were 50-70% of normal. The first two wines, in bottle, were a forgettable Bourgogne Chardonnay but a good St. Aubin 1er Cru Sous Roche Dumay, which had a nice floral quality and good purity. However, things quickly got better, with a stunningly fine and complex St. Aubin 1er Cru En Remilly, with impeccable balance and transparency; it had a good balance of fruit and flowers but I particularly admired its raciness and long minerally finish. If the quality translates into bottle, this should be a great value. The Chassagne Village seemed a little unbalanced to acid, but the Chassagne Maltroie, while also showing a lot of acidity, had a good creamy texture to it, and the Chassagne Vergers also showed a bit of acidity sticking out on the finish, despite good spice, creamy apple and citrus notes. The Chassagne Chenevottes and Champgains were both a step up, with the former showing a beautiful floral quality and better balance, plus a creamy, spiced pear finish, and the latter pitched very differently, with richer fruit than the Chenevottes and a complex finish. The best of the premiers crus were the Chassagne Morgeots (a blend of Fairendes and La Cardeuse, from opposite ends of the appellation), which had a complex nose showing spice, blackberries and brambles as well as stones, while on the palate it showed more flowers as well, and was complete and balanced; and the Grands Ruchottes, from 75 year old vines, a creamy, elegant wine, with deep minerality and black cherry fruit on the nose, perfumed in the middle, and sweet peaches and spice on the extremely long and elegant finish. The Bâtard Montrachet, still in barrel, had a huge sweet stone fruit nose, and combined balance and powerful minerality on the palate with an intense, complex, creamy and spicy finish. The Chevalier Montrachet was very minerally, pure and fine, with excellent line, a classy wine. Overall, despite a few off notes, this domaine was highly successful in 2012.
Paul Pillot. Here too, the crop was heavily reduced, by 50-75% depending on the vineyard. Overall, the range was good, though only a handful were outstanding. The two St. Aubin 1er Crus, Pitangerets and Charmois, were both nice examples, the former in a lighter style that would make a charming aperitif, the latter somewhat denser, soft, floral and spicy, with a bit of acidity at the back. The Chassagne Mazures was also soft, round and accessible, a crowd-pleaser and for early drinking, while the Champgains had more acidity and a minerally nose, but was nonetheless floral and pretty, if a little short, and the Clos St. Jean was also soft and charming, a middle-weight wine with a touch of spice and a lot of white flowers. The Chassagne Caillerets was more serious, with a stony, citric nose, floral and elegant, light but with charm, and a bit of clove on the finish. The next wines were being given additional barrel aging, something Thierry Pillot says he would like to do more of: the Grand Ruchottes was much richer and with more body than the prior wines, with notes of lemon, blackberry, white flowers, peach, pepper and stones, and a creamy note on the finish; and the Grand Montagne, with a lot of spice, had a saline quality and was large-framed, with citrus notes, good acidity, and a developing creamy finish—not quite together yet but with good promise. At the top of the premiers crus was the Chassagne La Romanée, which had a very pure nose of cherry, cream, spice, minerals and beeswax; on the palate it was rich, with lemon, white flowers and a creamy touch, a wine that is very balanced, long, and bidding for elegance—it has power but is hiding it. The Bâtard (one barrel) showed some of the new oak, and had a lot of power and acidity but kept its feet, with a bold, spicy finish—a wine that needs time.
Senard. The Aloxe-Corton blanc is a curiosity, being made from Pinot Gris. The nose was saline, with a not unpleasant seaweed note, while on the palate there was sweet fruit and strong, but not overpowering, acidity, and a long finish. Overall, I enjoyed this wine. Philippe Senard noted that Pinot Gris was originally planted in predominantly red wine vineyards (typically making up 5-8% of the vineyard and interplanted with the Pinot Noir), because it matured earlier and provided more sugar and glycerol. The Corton Blanc had an excellent nose of spice, minerals and beeswax, as well as white flowers, though the acidity seemed a bit high in the middle. The Corton-Charlemagne had a minerally, white flower nose, well balanced on the palate and, though slightly lean towards the back end, had good tension.
Bonneau du Martray. The ’12 crop will be about ¼ of normal, and will be bottled in 3-packs rather than 12 bottle cases. The wine had been racked once, and was still on its lees. Bright spice jumped out of the glass, and on the palate this was very minerally, perfumed, with a melon touch that hinted at a potential issue of over-ripeness. Good, but I doubt this will be anywhere close to the ’10 in quality.
Other Domaines:
Francois Carillon. Carillon said his 2012s were down 50% in quantity and he preferred to show us his 2011s, which are discussed in the addendum to this report.
Lafarge. A decent Bourgogne Aligoté Raisins Dorées and Meursault, and a very fine Beaune Aigrots, subtle, sweet and well balanced, with very pure minerals and white flowers.
Domaine des Lambrays. Only 20% of a normal crop in 2012, so the Puligny Folatières and Clos du Caillerets will be combined into a single Puligny Premier Cru. Despite a spicy and floral nose, this seemed a bit sappy on entry and also a bit searing in acidity both in the middle and on the finish.
Mugnier. Despite hail issues, a very nice Nuits Clos de la Maréchale Blanc in 2012, very minerally and spicy, dense and quite interesting, floral, and a touch earthy; though it has a slight hard edge, there is a lot of complexity here.
Ponsot. Fans of Laurent’s Mont Luisants will be distressed to learn that this wine was not produced in 2012, as oïdium from the woods destroyed most of the crop. However, his Corton-Charlemagne, while substantially reduced in volume, was excellent: the nose was densely minerally but with a nice floral touch; on the palate, sweet fruit was balanced by a lot of minerality, and the finish was quite spicy and refined.
Pierre et François Labet. Best were a well-crafted Bourgogne Blanc Vieilles Vignes (from Beaune and Chorey) and a very fine Beaune Marconnets, charming, floral, minerally, balanced, pure, spicy and very persistent.
The Negociants:
Bouchard. I found this range more spotty than usual, though not without some successes. The Meursault Charmes and Genevrières had a lot going for them, but also a slightly bready note on the noses that I could not quite identify but that made me wonder about their future. Among the premiers crus, my strong favorite was the Puligny Combettes (a negociant wine; new this year), with gingerbread and other spice on the nose, sweet fruit, a creamy texture, excellent balance and good length. Others were more enthusiastic about the Corton-Charlemagne than I: while it was pleasant, it seemed to me to be a bit on the light side for this appellation and not quite as knit as it might be. The regular Chevalier was a disappointment, and the Montrachet seemed heavy and unforthcoming, hinting at greater depth but certainly not showing it today. Nonetheless, La Cabotte (once in Montrachet, so the story goes, now in Chevalier; both but neither) was, by contrast, showing extremely well—precise, with pure minerality, white flowers, balanced, restrained and elegant on the nose while richer and more honeyed on the palate, balanced with razor-sharp acidity in the back, and with an exceptionally long finish.
In sharp contrast to the Côte de Beaune whites, the Chablis from William Fèvre were, at the top levels, positively exciting. While neither the Vaulorent, regular Bougros nor Vaudésir were in balance, the Bougros Côte Bouguerots was serious and precise, and the Valmur, Preuses and Clos were all outstanding. The Valmur had great depth, with characteristic iron and flint notes, but was balanced, with sweet fruit and a nice soft touch in the middle before the long flinty finish. The Preuses had more gingerbread and gunflint in the nose, plus pears and hints of plum; it had excellent weight and balance and good complexity; the only nit was a slight excess of acidity on the finish. The Clos was the most complete, and despite some reduction on the nose, which eventually opened to chalk and gingerbread, it was very precise, with a light lemon touch added on the palate and a very long finish that echoed all the notes of the nose and mid-palate.
Drouhin. Also an abbreviated, if decidedly mixed, range of whites here. We started with Chablis, and if the Vaudésir here, like the Fèvre, was not well balanced, the Clos was showing very well—slate and spice on the nose, melon and peaches on the palate, and a complex finish with excellent mineral cut. I found the Puligny Folatières soft and fleshy, with a banana hint, and greatly preferred the Chassagne Morgeot Marquis de LaGuiche, which had a lovely minerally, white flower nose, excellent lift and balance and a spicy finish. The Montrachet Marquis de LaGuiche was quite nice, with a deep penetrating minerality on the nose but also a subdued floral component, the minerality almost reminiscent of a great Chablis; on the palate, it was far softer, with a lot of sweet fruit, fully integrated, and with a finely delineated finish.
Faiveley. Yet another decidedly mixed range of whites. Both Chablis, the Preuses and the Clos, lacked grip. The two Meursault 1er Crus, Blagny and Charmes, were very pleasant, the latter more floral and buttery. I quite liked the Puligny Garenne (a domaine wine), which was very precise, with touches of lemon and white flowers and very nice minerality. The Bienvenues had a charming floral nose and was on the soft side, while the Bâtard started well but then seemed to go a bit flat in the middle. The Corton-Charlemagne was intensely minerally, huge, spicy and very long, if slightly on the acidic side.
Camille Giroud. We saw a small range of whites, but it included a charming Meursault Poruzots, with white flowers, spice and butterfat, and an excellent Chassagne Tête du Clos, with bright, knife-edge acidity balanced by floral and peach notes, slightly dry but very high-toned.
Jadot. Jacques Lardière, who officially retired last year, has now been dispatched to head the newly purchased Jadot operations in Oregon, and Frédéric Barnier is firmly in charge. Nonetheless, Barnier claims he has changed nothing. (One hopes this is just the party line; while the Jadot wines are, overall, of decent quality, there is plenty of room for improvement. The Maison does not lack the resources; one hopes it will find the will.) With respect to 2012, he cited oïdium as the key problem. He also said that, with respect to the whites, little juice and extreme richness threatened to produce heavy wines, and that the challenge was to keep some liveliness in the wines, citing this as a reason for stopping the malos in ’12. The problem with this line of argument is two-fold. First, Jadot’s practice under Lardière had been to stop the malos in every vintage (to quote from my report on the Jadot 2010 whites: “Jacques Lardière felt that the usual practice here of blocking completion of the malolactic fermentation of the whites was particularly justified this year, as it preserved the acidity and freshness of these wines and kept them from becoming top-heavy.” Anybody out there finding ’10 whites to be top-heavy? I didn’t think so). That either makes Barnier’s observation disingenuous, or points towards perhaps a more judicious use of the technique in the future (again, one can only hope). Second, the results do not seem to justify the technique either: acidity was not generally lacking in ’12, and too many of the Jadot whites I tasted suffered from an excess of malic acidity—tart green apple notes that were not adequately buffered by the fruit—and I say this as someone who likes his whites to have freshness and racy acidity. This was immediately obvious in the first two wines we tasted, the Meursault Genevrières and Perrières, and perhaps was even more frustrating in the Chassagne Morgeots Clos de la Chapelle and Chassagne La Romanée, both of which had a lot to offer in the way of floral qualities and mineral notes, but that left a rough, unfinished impression. The Pulignys were better, including the Folatières (Héritiers Louis Jadot, from higher on the slope; there is also a regular version), which had a lovely floral/mineral nose, and despite slight tartness, the acidity was very racy and the finish spicy and long; and Combettes, where the apple notes were more integrated and the wine, overall, soft and generous, a crowd-pleaser with soft sweet fruit. I also liked the Bâtard (others preferred the Bienvenues), which had enough fruit to carry the tartness, a long sweet fruit finish, and was complex and interesting, but in either case, quantities are miniscule. The Chevalier Demoiselles (about 40% of normal production) had an excellent discreet floral nose, a lot of density and body, and good balance. Le Montrachet was also good, with a rich, honeyed apple crisp nose, a little tropical fruit (pineapple) on the palate, lots of material, a dry acidic knife edge, and a creamy finish with spice at the very end and a touch of tannin. The Corton-Charlemagne should not have been shown last; it was blowsy in the middle and then had an overly acidic edge that burned onto the finish.
For comments on the 2011s, and other impressions, please see the addendum to this report, which should be available within the next few weeks.
© 2013 Douglas E. Barzelay
With the arrest of Rudy Kurniawan (on March 8, 2012), an extraordinary chapter in the history of wine fraud has begun to close. Two recent articles, Mike Steinberger’s A Vintage Crime in Vanity Fair, and Ben Wallace’s Château Sucker in New York, have ably chronicled the facts as we now know them, though I strongly suspect that further revelations may emerge.
Of course fraudulent wine is neither a contemporary phenomenon nor one that will disappear with Rudy’s arrest. But what has happened in the decade in which Rudy Kurniawan flourished and then fell represents a loss of innocence, especially for Burgundy lovers, as what was once an insular province of connoisseurs, sharing dusty bottles while speaking a language few outsiders understood, became part of the larger marketplace for luxury goods, now eagerly sought as a badge of success by a rising class of wealthy consumers around the globe. Well within the term of memory, great wines, especially older Burgundies, were relatively affordable, and still treated with the deference due subtle and ineffable pleasures, rather than brandished as expensive trophies in contests of conspicuous consumption. Those of us who experienced it can mourn the passing of that era but we cannot bring it back.
Because my perspective is that of someone passionate about old Burgundy, and because I ultimately came to play a small role in Rudy’s downfall, I thought that it might be useful to tell the story of Rudy Kurniawan’s rise and fall as I saw it. I do not pretend to bring the kind of reportorial skills or narrative scope to this story that either Steinberger or Wallace did. What I hope to be able to do is to set down, as faithfully as I can recall, my observations and impressions during the time when Rudy was a major figure in the world of rare wine, well before the denouement of this extraordinary tale was known.
There are more than a few parallels between Rudy’s career and that of Hardy Rodenstock a generation earlier. Rodenstock’s fraudulent career, though, however splashy the “Jefferson” bottles of supposed 18th Century Bordeaux made it, was more limited in scope than Rudy’s became. Interest in wine among a new and wealthy audience, where labels were far more important than the liquid inside, had certainly been growing for many years. But Rudy’s arrival seemed to coincide with a new bacchanalian era, in which investment bankers and real estate moguls dueled not with pistols but with magnums of ’47 Château Lafleur and jeroboams of ’62 La Tâche. And Rudy was able to take advantage of a certain credulousness that went with this growing hunger for the old and rare–the fervent desire of these collectors to believe that their wealth and aggressiveness had given them unique access to trophies others could not have, compounded with a lack of knowledge both of how improbable it was that these rarities still existed in such large quantities, and of what these great wines were supposed to taste like. And where Rodenstock had largely confined himself to top Bordeaux, Rudy’s fraud, beginning there, soon began creeping into hitherto relatively untouched corners of the wine world, particularly Burgundy.
Even now, there is still little understanding of how this baby-faced young man rose, seemingly from nowhere, to the point where he could fool many of the world’s wealthiest collectors. Those who became a part of his world were, for the most part, badly burned and are understandably not eager to talk, while a fair amount of the internet commentary, indulging itself in an orgy of schadenfreude, has assumed every bottle he served or sold must have been fake and that everyone who ever drank wines with, or bought wines from, Rudy had to have been either a dupe or an enabler. As so often happens with tales that capture the broader imagination, events and characters get reduced to black and white, and all nuance is lost. The story of how he was able to fool so many bright, successful people for so long is however more complex—and ultimately more interesting.
I first became aware of Rudy by reputation; as best I can recall, this was probably sometime in early or mid 2004. His reputation as it came to me was that of a rich, young (at that time about 28) Indonesian who had rapidly become a fixture on the auction scene as one of the biggest buyers of great Bordeaux and Burgundy, and who was also aggressively buying these wines through European and other brokers. Some of my earliest impressions of Rudy came through the highly entertaining tasting notes/travelogue that John Kapon was then publishing in hard copy—tales of nights spent drinking massive quantities of rare old wines until they—or at least John—passed out. I would also see Rudy at the occasional auction I attended, always bidding heavily. Though I did not realize it until many years later, Rudy by early 2005 (and perhaps before) had also started to sell fraudulent wines at auction, though for a long time he claimed he was only a buyer and never sold, one of many untruths he told to maintain the illusion—including his name, his family connections, the extent of his wealth. (The story, as it was then being circulated, was that he was the youngest son in an incredibly wealthy Indonesian family, whose older brothers had sent him to the US with an allowance of $1 million a month to stay out of the family businesses they were running.) While it is now known that Rudy Kurniawan is not his real name, and that he had been living here illegally for years, his family and background remain a mystery—as, more significantly, does the real source of the considerable amounts he was spending on wine and the good life.
How did he succeed, despite his sudden appearance from nowhere, in fooling so many people? The cornerstone of the scheme, I believe, was that he liberally and even lavishly served real, great wines both to his intended “marks” and also to critics and to acknowledged connoisseurs, then sold the marks fake versions of the wines that they had drunk with such pleasure and that both the critics and knowledgeable friends were extolling. Again, for those who would believe every bottle he ever served was fake, let me repeat that this was not the case, and that if it had been, I seriously doubt the scheme would have succeeded. First, a great deal of Rudy’s entertaining, in New York at least, consisted of ordering $50,000 or more worth of wine off the lists at Cru or Veritas. These were not wines from his cellar; rather, the point was to reinforce the story that he was a generous trust-fund baby without a care in the world, just a party dude who loved to drink great wine. (My own exposure to this was limited to two or three of these events—I was certainly curious, and if the orgiastic, “because we can” nature of these events was repulsive, the chance to drink super-rare bottles provided an offsetting attraction. Ultimately, though, I began to feel uncomfortable being a recipient of this largesse from someone whose motives I could not discern—though it was only later that I began to have real doubts about what he was up to.) As only emerged much later, these sprees were in fact relatively cost-free, as Rudy would have the empty bottles returned to him and refill them, and I suspect that by the time he came to resell them, they may well have been worth even more than what he had paid for them, due to the rising market he was creating.
That rising market is the second nuance of this scheme. As far as I can tell, Rudy started out buying and then counterfeiting mostly Bordeaux and, among Burgundies, DRC. But he soon must have realized that there were easier wines to counterfeit, and turned his attention to other Burgundy producers, particularly Roumier and Rousseau. First, the variations in labeling, bottling, branding of corks and other practices of most Burgundy producers made it harder to create a uniform standard against which counterfeit bottles could be measured. Second, Rudy had a perfect foil in a major collector (and a good friend of mine), who bought these producers’ wines voraciously and almost regardless of price, so that Rudy could when he wished drive up the market for these wines simply by bidding aggressively, knowing that my friend would ultimately outbid him—and knowing also that he would help sustain demand for the additional bottles of these wines that Rudy would soon provide to the market. Small wonder, then, that this eventually led Rudy to begin reproducing wines from Ponsot, the same collector’s other favorite producer, though in the end it proved his undoing.
If the heart of the scheme was to open real bottles, and then sell fake versions of them, clearly Rudy had to serve wines not just from restaurant lists but more importantly from his own collection, both for his “marks” and others who might help spread the word. As one of the largest purchasers of rare wines in the worldwide market, Rudy had no shortage of genuine bottles to serve (and again, he could recoup his costs by refilling them with something else and reselling them). Rudy also possessed an excellent palate–though I suspect he may have used a few parlor tricks to identify wines in blind tastings. My impression was that he was very good at analyzing and remembering tastes, certainly far superior to some of the wealthy label drinkers with whom he often consorted. But the group around Rudy also included some quite discerning collectors, with palates and a depth of knowledge superior to his. Nonetheless, impressed by what they tasted, they provided credibility for him with less-knowledgeable collectors. Indeed, some of them fell for the con as well, presuming that when their new friend sold them bottles privately, they were from the same source as what they had tasted, and that they were getting in on the “inside.”
It is hard to pinpoint, after so many years, just when my doubts began. At Acker’s Top 100 tasting in October 2004, there was considerable talk about how a number of the Bordeaux were clear or probable fakes (in the former category, a magnum of ’59 Ch. Haut Brion that tasted like a cheap Rhone; in the latter, a magnum of ’47 Lafleur), though the Burgundies generally fared better. Rudy was at this tasting, and I recall his crowing about how well the bottles he had supplied had shown—though whether that was true or not, I could not say, as he didn’t identify which were his. However, by the next year, at Acker’s follow-up event, the Top 100 All-Stars tasting in October 2005, I began to have real questions, as did my friend Allen Meadows, about a number of the Burgundies, including bottles of Romanée-Conti, that Rudy had supplied. But as these were wines few of us had ever tasted before, and they were plausible even if counterfeit, I did not detect much doubt among my fellow tasters, and even among those of us who did have doubts, we still were inclined toward the possibility that the provider of those wines had himself been duped.
When “The Cellar” sale at Acker took place in January 2006, it seemed natural to me (though apparently not to others) to wonder whether this amazing flood of Roumier, Rousseau, etc. could in fact be real. Here were wines produced in miniscule quantities, of which I had seldom seen more than single bottles despite many years of searching, now available in case+ quantities. Thus, the six-month unconditional guarantee that Rudy offered seemed to provide a good opportunity to test my and others’ doubts. As my good friend Don Stott had bought a substantial number of the Roumiers and Rousseaus, he and a group of us hatched the idea of putting the Roumier bottles to the test–and of inviting Christophe Roumier to join us.
Before that tasting could take place, the October 2006 Cellar II sale occurred, and that sale raised further doubts about how so many of these ultra-rare bottles could suddenly have surfaced. In the run-up to Cellar II, I had the opportunity, along with Allen Meadows, to taste some of the Burgundies being offered in that sale. The formal pre-sale tasting was held downstairs in the private room at Cru. Allen had been invited, but was leaving on a late flight to France, and in any event was really only interested in the Burgundies (there was plenty of Bordeaux being served as well), so he suggested that he and I have a bite to eat in the bar at Cru and arrange to get a taste of the Burgundies being served that night. It was an interesting experience, instructive then and even more so in retrospect. To reiterate what I have said before, Rudy owned, and served when it suited his purposes, many great bottles, and certainly the ’62 Rousseau Chambertin Clos de Bèze we tasted that night (Rousseau’s first Bèze) was both authentic and spectacular. Rudy’s purpose, as I later learned, was to validate the numerous bottles, of what was supposedly the same wine, that would appear in the sale the next day. Indeed, at the time, John Kapon was giving voice to the proposition that the only way to tell for sure whether or not a bottle was real, was to open and taste it. If you believe that an experienced taster can develop sufficient proficiency to distinguish real from fake among wines he or she is familiar with—something I definitely do believe—then John’s proposition seems true enough, as far as it goes. The problem, though, is that tasting one real bottle doesn’t assure that the rest of the bottles, despite identical labels/corks/capsules, are also authentic. And as we were to learn from the Roumier tasting, Rudy had developed an interesting twist on this as well.
However, if there certainly were several real bottles that we tasted that night, there were also several that seemed highly questionable. Among the latter was a ’59 Ponsot Clos de la Roche Vieilles Vignes, which had a remarkable level of acidity for a ’59—a polite way of saying it was very unlikely to have been from that vintage. Similarly, a ’59 Roumier Musigny, a super-rare bottle of which there were perhaps a little over 200 produced under the Roumier label (yet there were 12 on sale in the Cellar II auction in addition to the 6 that had already been sold in the Cellar I auction), seemed quite dubious, as did several of the other wines. Nonetheless, as I later learned, the group gathered downstairs, primed with plenty of Champagne, drinking not spitting, and in the presence of their ever-generous host, did not find reasons to be skeptical.
At that point, though I had developed serious concerns about the number of questionable wines coming via Rudy, I still was not fully ready to believe that he was participating in a fraudulent scheme. In this, I was still influenced, no doubt, by Rudy’s disorganized, slacker dude demeanor, reinforced by the story I had heard from John Kapon about how he and a team had had to go out to LA to pick out and pack up the wines from Rudy’s cellar at the last minute, because Rudy could never get around to it himself. It also still did not seem implausible that, with his voracious buying, Rudy—despite his self-proclaimed ability to spot fakes—had picked up a significant number of them that had gone into his cellar sight unseen. And for every questionable bottle I’d had from him, there were several—like that ’62 Rousseau Bèze —that were unforgettably great.
Three months later, in January 2007, the long-planned Roumier tasting finally took place, and the delay allowed us to include some additional bottles that Don Stott had purchased in the Cellar II auction. Christophe Roumier participated in the tasting, as did Allen Meadows, Tim Kopec and other tasters with long experience of Roumier wines. In all, we tasted 15 bottles of Roumier (6 Musigny, 8 Bonnes Mares and 1 Amoureuses), of which 11 had been purchased from the two “Cellar” auctions and 4 from other sources. Other than with respect to one bottle, there was no difference whatsoever in the conclusions of the tasters. Of the bottles sourced from the two “Cellar” auctions, 3 were clearly authentic—and superb–6 were clearly fraudulent, one was corked, and one was probably but not clearly fraudulent. Among the wines deemed fraudulent was a bottle of the ’59 Musigny, which had aroused our skepticism the prior October, as well as the ’55 Musigny (two bottles were tasted), clearly a wine from grapes grown well south of Burgundy, and the ’45 and ’29 Bonnes Mares (the latter also not a Pinot Noir).
The high number of fraudulent wines was clearly disturbing, but what was in a way more disturbing was the apparent randomness of the bottles deemed authentic. The labels on the fraudulent bottles were surprisingly pristine for wines that were ostensibly 50-85 years old, and there were other label and capsule issues; however, the authentic bottles looked much the same (in other words, in this case it wasn’t that the fakes looked real; rather, the real bottles looked fake). Also, most of the bottles we drank, fraudulent and genuine, had been pulled at random from a larger quantity of the same wine that had been purchased. What to make of this? Our supposition was that in order to remove whatever doubt the new and questionable labels might have engendered, the authentic bottles Rudy had served at tastings were given the new labels as well. For example, a bottle of ’62 Roumier Musigny with a pristine-looking label would naturally raise some questions. But if you serve a real bottle onto which you’ve applied the same pristine label, then you can overcome many of the suspicions that such a label would otherwise raise. All that needs to be added is a story about why the labels are so new-looking (one version I heard was that the bottles had been stored in the Nicolas cellar outside Paris since release and that because the original labels had deteriorated, they had all been re-labeled prior to sale.) Yet there must have been some way for the forger to tell which bottles were authentic, and could be served, though we were in our examination unable to discern what that was. Also, assuming there was indeed some inconspicuous way of telling good from bad, then Rudy would have been able to reach into a case and, seemingly at random, pull out a bottle that could be opened and “prove” the authenticity of the remaining inauthentic bottles.
(One curious phenomenon I have not been able to sort out is the substantial difference in the quality of the fakes that Rudy produced during his career—as noted for example in the Roumier tasting, a number of bottles were not even Pinot Noir—yet in other cases Rudy clearly was also substituting lesser or younger vintages (perhaps with some clever mixing) for older and rarer, which is much less easy to detect unless one is fairly familiar with the vintage in question (and which may have been the case with some of the Romanée-Contis at the Top 100 All-Stars tasting), and eventually he started substituting relatively inexpensive negociant Burgundy of the same vintage and appellation for top-producer wines few had ever tasted before, which made the frauds even harder to detect.)
Nevertheless, the results of the Roumier tasting, reflecting that more than 60% of our sample of some of the most desirable wines in the “Cellar” auctions were fraudulent, made it abundantly clear that one could no longer credit the possibility that the number of fraudulent wines was incidental and to be expected given how much Rudy was buying and how little control he was exercising over his purchases. At this level of fakes, the only realistic explanation was that he was a witting medium for the distribution of a significant amount of fraudulent wines. At this point, though, the extent and purpose of the fraud were still unclear, as despite the significant number of fakes among the trophy wines, a number of the other wines tasted from the two Cellar sales, especially but not exclusively the non-trophy wines, had not been fraudulent. Among the questions we left the tasting with were where were the fakes coming from, who was manufacturing them, what proportion of his wines were fake and what genuine, and how—other than by opening and drinking them–could one reliably tell which was which?
And for me personally, the results of this tasting raised another serious issue. By early 2007 when the Roumier tasting took place, preparations were nearly complete for a major tasting of Romanée-Conti that I had, along with Michael Rockefeller and Allen Meadows, been planning for over two years. This tasting, which eventually became the most comprehensive tasting of Romanée-Conti ever held, with 74 vintages represented going back to 1870, had already been postponed more than once–first because we did not have all the wines we wanted and later in order to accommodate Aubert de Villaine’s schedule. As a major collector of Romanée-Conti, Rudy had been invited when the planning was initially underway back in 2005–well before the first Cellar sale took place–and as with everyone else coming to the tasting, he was expected to provide some of the wines. What if some of the wines he had already sent a year in advance, at my insistence, were fraudulent? The thought chilled me.
The first step was to examine all the bottles Rudy had provided. Fortunately, most were from the hardest-to-find vintages, which were not, as one might think, the great vintages, but rather the off vintages that few had kept, but that no one would bother to fake (and indeed, it appears that Rudy became an avid collector of those off-vintages of Romanée-Conti, presumably because something such as the ’63 or ’65 could be readily “upgraded,” with a little assistance, to a far more expensive vintage). Nonetheless, I took pains to examine the labels, capsules and corks carefully. Second, we had already made sure to have back-up bottles from separate sources of most vintages, so that in case a particular bottle was “off” for some reason, it could readily be replaced with a bottle from an entirely different source. Third, Rudy still had a track record of producing real bottles for important public occasions, and the presence at our tasting of Aubert de Villaine seemed likely to dissuade him from trying to slip through any fake bottles. But one issue could not be avoided: the 1945, the holy grail of Burgundy, of which only 608 bottles were ever produced. Years of searching had turned up only one bottle, belonging to Rudy. Nor did it help my frame of mind that I had already tasted two bottles of this wine provided by him (at the Top 100 All-Stars tasting described above), neither of which seemed real. Nonetheless, I was at least partly relieved to see that the label, capsule and bottle all appeared authentic and that the bottle for our tasting did not have the same questionable import strip labels that were on several of the bottles he had brought to that Acker tasting.
In the event, our tasting (which is described at length in Allen Meadows’s book, Pearl of the Côte,) was thankfully not marred by fraudulent bottles (as confirmed by Aubert de Villaine–and given the total immersion of tasting 74 vintages of Romanée-Conti over three days, each vintage in the context of comparable vintages of the era, even a well-crafted fake would have stood out in bold relief). When it came to the ’45, I quietly held my breath, but fortunately I had guessed right, and Rudy had sacrificed a real bottle for the occasion (we all signed the label afterwards, so it could not have been reused). It was, and remains, the best bottle of wine I have ever had, fully deserving of the accolades that Allen accords it in Pearl. Indeed Aubert, as always, had the last word, calling this ‘45 “the lost voice of Romanée-Conti” (it was the last vintage of this wine from pre-phylloxera rootstock, which imparts a special texture to the wine that is recognizably different from more modern examples). Having now had the real thing, it also made me more certain than ever that the two bottles Rudy had supplied to the Top 100 All-Stars had been concocted. (As was another bottle, tasted two years later, that had been purchased from Rudy; as with the Top 100 All-Stars bottles, it seemed a reasonably well-crafted fake, but a fake nonetheless.)
As a coda to the tasting, we asked the participants if they would like to take home any bottles as souvenirs of the occasion. While some people did take home bottles, much to my surprise Rudy (who, I had assumed, would have no interest in empty bottles) asked to take back all the bottles he had brought. Though he claimed he wanted them to decorate a store he was going to open (with Paul Wasserman), it seemed odd, but I figured that, slacker that he seemed to be, he would forget about it. Not so; after about a month, he got in touch to ask if I’d sent them. At that point, I sent back a few full bottles of his that we hadn’t used in the tasting, but not the empties. But he did not let go, continuing to pester me, and finally I concluded that, since they were his bottles, and since at that point I had nothing other than vague discomfort to go on, I did not have a reasonable basis for treating him differently from the other participants. Only much later was I to learn that this was a pattern of behavior with Cru and probably others, and that he was refilling and reselling the bottles that were returned.
Subsequent to that tasting, I recall little interaction with Rudy until the following year. The story of the April 2008 Acker auction has been told a number of times, including in the Steinberger and Wallace articles, but as I was fated to play a significant role in those events, it may be worth recounting them from my perspective. It began when I started thumbing through Acker’s catalog, which though it was advertised as Rob Rosania’s sale also contained several sections, separately identified though not with his name, that were clearly Rudy’s wines. Many of the fraudulent or questionable Roumier and Rousseau bottles from the same vintages and appellations as in prior sales were back for yet another outing (three more ’59 Roumier Musigny, for example). When I reached the Ponsot section, with its pictures of 50+-year old bottles of Clos de la Roche with pristine labels and “Vieilles Vignes” designations where they shouldn’t have been, it was even more disturbing. However, what particularly caught my attention was the older Ponsot Clos St. Denis. My first reaction was surprise, in that I had never seen any Ponsot Clos St. Denis of this age, or indeed any older than 1985. My next reaction was curiosity, as to when Ponsot started producing Clos St. Denis, and a quick check of the website revealed that their agreement to produce this wine, from land belonging to the Mercier family (Domaine des Chézeaux), only started in the early ‘80s. Was it possible, though, that the Ponsot family had had some agreement, years earlier and since terminated–whether with the Merciers or someone else–to buy or make this wine? I asked another knowledgeable friend, who had also never seen any pre-1985 bottles before, and then got in touch with Allen Meadows. Coincidentally, he told me he had been served this wine at a pre-auction dinner in Los Angeles a day or two before and had also been suspicious about whether such a wine had actually been made by Ponsot. The three of us then decided we needed to get in touch with Laurent Ponsot, whom all of us knew well. Laurent was startled to hear that Acker was about to auction wines his family had, he assured us, never made.
We agreed I would call John Kapon to tell him that the wines he was about to auction did not exist, and that he had to pull them from the sale—along with the rest of the Ponsot wines in the auction, as Laurent had by then reviewed the catalog, and believed the other Ponsot wines to be fraudulent as well. John was clearly not happy about this, though he agreed to do it. He did not, however, want to make any announcement ahead of the sale. In discussing this with Laurent, he decided that he should change the itinerary for his forthcoming trip to the US, and attend the auction, to make sure John carried through and the wines were in fact withdrawn.
The day of the auction, Rudy spent the morning at Sotheby’s, outbidding a few of us for some very old, and very real, Faiveley bottling—which before that auction had not commanded high prices. I strongly suspect that had his world not begun to unravel that evening, large quantities of counterfeit old Faiveleys would soon have begun appearing on the market alongside the Roumiers, Rousseaus and Ponsots, and at the newly elevated market prices. In any event, that evening, John Kapon did announce during the sale that the Ponsot wines had been withdrawn at the request of the domaine, without further elaboration. I will never forget the chorus of boos that greeted this announcement, apparently from bidders keen to purchase these never-before-seen rarities.
Had it not been for those bottles of Ponsot Clos St. Denis that never existed, Rudy might not be sitting in jail today. Wine fraud is extremely difficult to prove, and often a matter of expert opinion in an arcane field, hardly the stuff a prosecutor likes to take to court ( it was only after Rudy was arrested that the search of his home turned up “smoking gun” evidence that showed he was actively manufacturing fake bottles). What brought him to make these particular bottles? His imprecise knowledge of Burgundian history had come close to tripping him up at least once before, when he offered for sale bottles of ’23 Roumier Bonnes Mares—the domaine was founded in 1924—but he, or someone, dreamed up the un-disprovable story that because the domaine’s plot of Bonnes Mares had come as a dowry from Georges Roumier’s wife in 1924, it was also possible that her dowry included a yet-unbottled cask or more of the prior vintage’s wine as well. Unlikely, but given that the domaine had no records from that era, and the principals were long dead, not disprovable. Indeed, several things have made counterfeiting Burgundies easier than Bordeaux. Many now-revered producers did not use branded corks until relatively recent decades, generic capsules were often the norm, and labeling practices were seldom uniform or precise. Because a vintage (even one deemed great) was often not sold out on release, bottles might be kept in the cellar at the domaine for years, always without labels, and released whenever a buyer could be found. If by the time they were sold the label design had changed, the new label might be used, or older, blank labels onto which the vintage date might be stamped rather than printed. Other inconsistencies, depending on particular markets, were also not uncommon. No thought was given to preventing counterfeiting; the producers could barely sell the wines themselves, what incentive would someone else have to counterfeit them?
Also, in the period leading up to production of the fake Ponsots, Rudy apparently had begun to purchase vast quantities of negociant Burgundies from the ‘60s and earlier, much of it from Patriarche, a mediocre negociant with huge stocks of old wines that were selling for, at most, a few hundred dollars a bottle (I am told he similarly bought inexpensive old magnums of Pomerols and Medocs in great quantities). Thus, for example, a bottle of 1959 Patriarche Clos de la Roche, which an expert might well identify by taste as both ’59 and Clos de la Roche, could be rebaptised with a Ponsot label, resold for fifty times the price, and (unlike the bottle of purported ’59 Clos de la Roche that Allen and I had tasted in October 2006, which was clearly not from the ’59 vintage), the forgery would be much harder to detect.
The older Ponsot Clos St. Denis, however, had never existed. After the auction, at John Kapon’s request, Laurent, John, Rudy and I had lunch, John’s idea being that Rudy could explain to Laurent where he had gotten these wines. At the luncheon, despite Laurent’s polite but insistent questioning, Rudy remained vague and evasive, claiming he needed to check to see where he got these wines (this from someone who remembered virtually every bottle he ever drank or bought!), telling Laurent he would give him the information but putting him off as long as he could, before ultimately (some months later) handing him a fake name and phone numbers. However, before we left, Rudy pulled me aside, and asked me a question that gave the game away: didn’t I remember, he asked, a particular bottle that he had purchased a couple of years earlier, after outbidding Don Stott? It was a ’47 Ponsot Clos St. Denis. Didn’t that show that Ponsot must have been making Clos St. Denis at least as far back as ’47? I confess I smirked a bit as I informed him that in fact I did remember the bottle, and because I was interested I had looked into it; while it was only catalogued as “Ponsot”, in fact the producer of that bottle was “Christine Ponsot,” no relation to Laurent or the Domaine, but rather a label used by a negociant (Emile Chandesais, Christine Ponsot’s husband) with a stock of older Burgundies to sell.
After the story of his attempt to sell the fake Ponsots became the subject of several press reports, Rudy seemed to go underground, and there were rumors he had for a time left the country. Meanwhile, Laurent Ponsot pursued his quest to discover the source of the fake wines, developing evidence that, he believes, will ultimately show that Rudy did not act alone. Laurent has throughout been tenacious, principled, and, sadly, often alone—for reasons I do not understand, his fellow producers seemed to take the attitude that counterfeiting of their wines was not something they needed to concern themselves with. Some of this may reflect the fact that many producers who have become celebrities of the wine world are uncomfortable in that role, and with the new world of trophy drinking in general, still viewing themselves as farmers whose job is to produce the best wine possible, and to sell it to support their families; anything else they see as a distraction that, given all the pressures on their time, they can ill-afford. Only recently has that mind-set begun to change and the threat to their reputations from fraud begun to be taken more seriously.
Rudy’s wines again resurfaced in the fall of 2009 when Christie’s brought a significant amount of them to market. (According to the initial Complaint filed by the Government in arresting him, Rudy had previously sold a number of these wines to a California collector, identified elsewhere as Andy Gordon, who tried to put them back to Rudy after becoming suspicious, but ultimately agreed to be repaid out of the proceeds of a sale by Rudy of these wines at Christie’s, where Rudy was never identified as the source of the wines.) However, a number of people, including Don Cornwell and Geoffrey Troy, recognized the wines as being from Rudy, and raised with Christie’s the issue of how they could sell these wines at auction, especially without disclosing the source. I also spoke with several people at Christie’s about this. It seemed then, as it does now, pure folly to risk tainting their reputation on an insubstantial aspect of their overall business, but Christies’ management decided otherwise, and went on to offer these wines at several sales in the US and abroad.
Because I had assumed that the Christie’s bottles were bottles Rudy or Mr. Gordon had been holding when the music stopped in April 2008, it did not occur to me that Rudy was still in the business of manufacturing and selling rare wines, until someone asked me if I had seen the catalog for the Spectrum London auction scheduled for early February of this year. One look at the on-line catalog was enough to convince me that these were yet more of the same Rudy bottlings (after a while, they got to have a recognizable look). I discussed this with Geoffrey Troy and Don Cornwell, and Don threw himself into this, eventually producing an amazing compendium of flaws in the purported DRCs on sale at Spectrum, which he then published as a vinous “J’Accuse” on the Wineberserkers bulletin board. (As an aside, the wine world owes Don Cornwell an enormous debt of gratitude for his incredible commitment to bringing this story to light, and for his continuing efforts to root out the many tentacles of Rudy’s fraud.) Don also collected evidence that the wines were being sold by Rudy through an intermediary, and that he had been using this route to sell wines through Spectrum for quite some time. Much has now been said on this subject, which can be followed at length on Wineberserkers and elsewhere. Unfortunately, Spectrum (which issued a series of wholly implausible denials), its London auction partner Vanquish, and their “experts” who authenticated these bottles, have yet to suffer fully the richly deserved consequences of their own arrogance and stupidity—or in this case, perhaps cupidity is the more appropriate word. Nonetheless, the uproar surrounding that sale galvanized action on the part of the Domaine de la Romanée-Conti, its UK and US agents, and the Domaine Comte de Vogüé, to have numerous questionable wines removed from the sale, finally overcoming the stonewalling that had initially greeted Cornwell’s revelations. Perhaps more importantly, the revelation that Rudy was continuing, with seeming impunity, to manufacture and sell millions of dollars of counterfeit wine in the marketplace, may have played a significant role in the government’s decision to arrest him.
What to make of this sorry history? Is it just another story about some gullible rich guys with more money than taste getting ripped off by a clever con artist? Partly, perhaps, but also I think you have to be part of the wine culture to understand the strong spirit of generosity among collectors. Wine, unlike many collectibles, cannot simply be fondled and then put back on the shelf; to be enjoyed, it needs to be opened, and that enjoyment is multiplied by sharing. Of course, there are some who are content to create mausoleums in their basements, where they can show off their treasures but never open any; but those are bottle collectors, not wine lovers. Among true wine aficionados, sharing bottles is a way of life (and if showing off sometimes vies with true generosity as a motive, well, that’s part of human nature too). What Rudy did, however, was to pervert that generous spirit into nothing more than another con game, and among its after-effects is a climate of suspicion that will last a long time, as each old bottle is held under a microscope and its flaws, real or imagined, debated. Even more unfortunately, thousands of fake bottles have made their way into collections world-wide and they will continue to surface, slowly, for many years to come. On the positive side, one can hope that exposing this fraud will galvanize action by the producers, both to play a more active role in helping to identify fraudulent older bottles, and to employ technologies that already exist to protect the legitimacy of the wines being produced today. If that occurs, then perhaps this long sad tale will not have a completely unhappy ending.
© 2012 Douglas E. Barzelay
A few years ago, after having played some role in exposing the attempted sale of a substantial number of fake Ponsot wines at auction, I recounted that story, with indignation, to a friend of mine who is a senior executive at a consumer products company. Why, he asked, was I surprised that people were faking expensive bottles of wine? “They’re out there faking our toothpaste.”
Ours is a world awash in fraudulent goods, but when it involves something closer to our hearts than a Rolex watch, we feel more aggrieved. Old wine, and especially old Burgundy, has been a passion of mine for a long time, and because for many years few people were interested, one could drink great old bottles of Burgundy with a minimum of concern, even during the years when rare old Bordeaux were being routinely faked. Unfortunately, sometime around the middle of the last decade, as Burgundy prices boomed, a small cottage industry began to produce significant quantities of old-vintage fakes, beginning inevitably with older DRCs (especially large formats) and de Vogüés, then infecting Jayer, Roumier, Rousseau, Ponsot and others. The auction houses that sold wines reacted in varying ways, but while one or two had the knowledge to spot the fakes and the character to refuse them, most turned a blind eye for as long as they could. Eventually, though, the glare of publicity, and several lawsuits, turned most of the auction houses considerably more cautious.
The fake Ponsots catalyzed a glare of attention on the forgeries, and for a time there seemed to be far fewer fraudulent old Burgundies on the market—and focus, in any case, seemed diverted as new markets in Asia went wild over 1982 Lafite and other Bordeaux, and the auction houses rushed to serve this new and burgeoning market. Nonetheless, those manufacturing the fake Burgundies had never been caught, and it appears that, emboldened by the emergence of a new, rich and unsophisticated cadre of collectors, they are back in business at the same old stand.
Too often markets that lack an effective regulatory mechanism—which may be sophisticated consumers or other gatekeepers, just as much as external, or even internal, regulators—become a race to the bottom (for which the mortgage “industry” still serves as a painful example). In the wine world, the recent Spectrum/Vanquish auction in London (February 8) was the wine auction world’s sorry example of this, as the auction house put on sale a large number of seemingly rare Burgundies with what turned out to be a highly questionable provenance. After trumpeting their alleged stringent vetting of these wines, they tried their best (or worst) to ignore the well-documented warnings of outside commentators before granting some credence, albeit both grudging and only partial, to the further warnings of several Burgundy domaines and their representatives. Yet as Don Cornwell has amply documented, the withdrawn lots were only a part of a much larger whole to which adequate (or even cursory) vetting seems not to have been applied. (Full disclosure—I was one of Don’s sources for information in comparing these questionable bottles with wines of known authenticity, though it is Don who deserves full credit for the thorough investigation he performed.)
While I suspect that the reverberations from that auction may continue for some time, it also makes sense to begin asking what can be done, if not to eliminate, at least to minimize, the amount of fraudulent wine that reaches the market.
The question for the auction houses is simple: do they not have a responsibility, from a business standpoint even if not a legal one, to their customers (buyers), to take reasonable measures to assure the quality and authenticity of what they sell? Certainly, they all concur in wanting us as buyers to think they do, with their staffs of “specialists” and their vivid catalog descriptions of long hours examining dusty bottles. Yet with few exceptions, this remains more in the realm of puffing than of actuality. What will change this? As are others, I am skeptical of the government’s ability to impose such responsibilities other than in the most ham-handed of fashions. On the other hand, self-regulation would require that the leading auction houses abide by uniform standards, which they seem reluctant to do for a variety of reasons. Nevertheless, the issue is not going to go away, and the auction houses need to face up to it. While I don’t profess to have a neat set of answers, I would, in the interests of starting a dialogue, proffer a few observations and suggestions:
–wine fraud is never going to be totally eradicated. There’s just too much money in it, and those who think this is just a rich man’s game are dreaming; there’s plenty of it going on at more affordable levels. Nonetheless, the auction houses should provide a relatively safe zone for the trade in mature wines, not a wild-west atmosphere.
–the art market may provide some useful analogies. That market is still largely self-regulated. It is certainly not a perfect market, and fraud is still a serious issue. At least, however, it is an issue that is taken seriously. In the auction process provenance is typically carefully scrutinized, and not only do the auction houses and dealers take their vetting processes seriously, but a substantial role is played by outside experts who do not have an economic interest in the sale. For major artists, these third party experts are effectively gatekeepers, and the absence of a third party imprimatur can be an obvious signal to reasonably sophisticated buyers that there is likely to be a problem.
–while the wine auction business has largely paid lip service to the expertising process (though a couple of houses actually do take it seriously), the truth is the wine departments have had a lot of merchandise to move and a small number of underpaid and undertrained specialists, and have often failed to pay the attention to authentication needed to do the job correctly. At the same time, many of the consumers who have been spending large amounts at auction have had neither the time nor the detailed knowledge to do any serious due diligence–a lot of money was and is being freely spent by people who quite frankly are not sophisticated about what they’re buying. This relative lack of gatekeepers, or the demand for them, was what in my view opened the door for those who saw an opportunity to produce fraudulent bottles, and who really didn’t need to be too fastidious about the quality of the fakes they were producing.
–what can be done? If the auction houses truly want to get serious about this issue, then at a minimum, they need to hire a truly independent (and experienced) third party to vet the expensive/questionable bottles. Because of its widespread use in the art world, the idea of independent expert review will certainly not be a novelty to the large auction houses and if it became the norm there would be a viable business for a few different experts to do this for multiple auction houses and collectors. For it to work properly, however, there would need to be far greater cooperation from the producers. One of the difficult parts of the exercise in reviewing the Spectrum bottles was identifying reference standard labels, bottles, etc. Building a reliable database of information is going to be key to any such effort. The Domaines can be a huge help in this, and I think (hope) they would be more willing to do so, if the information were being given to third parties of known reliability. I would certainly hope, for example, that those campaigning for recognition of Burgundy as a world heritage site would not be short-sighted about the importance of preserving that heritage once its fruits are bottled and move out into the world.
–what is the appropriate standard of “authenticity”? There was a good deal of discussion on wineberserkers.com (where Don Cornwell first exposed the problems with the Spectrum/Vanquish auction) about whether DRC itself should “authenticate” wines, much of it unfortunately proceeding from the unstated, but incorrect, premise that this is something DRC could readily do if only it were willing to devote the resources to the task. While a number of Burgundy producers are at work on technologies that in the future may serve to prove whether a bottle is or is not what it purports to be, those experiments belong to this century. For older bottles, while an expert who examines a bottle should be able to tell if there are signs that it may not be what it purports to be, there are no comparable signs which would allow one to state with certainty that a bottle is “authentic.” Indeed, until relatively recently, few Burgundy producers had to concern themselves with fraudulent bottles (DRC was not even a profitable enterprise until sometime in the 1960s), which meant they were mostly concerned with how they would sell their production, not whether someone would be motivated to counterfeit it. Also, labeling practices in Burgundy were not always uniform, as wines might not be sold until years after the vintage, when new labels might be printed—although the existence of legitimate variations does not mean that all variations are legitimate. Other than branding corks, which only a few producers did at that time, no significant steps were taken to deter counterfeiting. But corks can be falsely branded, false labels can be printed (and made to look old), and of course corks, labels, capsules and bottles can all be pulled out of the dumpster and reused. As just one example, I have tasted a bottle of 1945 Rousseau Chambertin (so it said on the label), with a correct period bottle, capsule, label and even a branded cork—only what was in the bottle was not ’45 and not Chambertin. Of course, the best way to positively authenticate a bottle, without consuming it, is to have a clear record of its provenance. However, to ask a domaine, or outside expert, to say by examining the exterior of an old bottle of unknown provenance that what is inside is “authentic” is to ask them to do something beyond their capability. For this reason, what some auction houses have established as the operative criterion is not whether the bottles are authentic but whether they are sellable at auction. The key distinction is that one only has to establish that the bottle lacks adequate provenance, or presents issues of authenticity, to exclude it.
–The vetting process will not be foolproof, and liability issues for the experts need to be considered carefully. Two other problems are time—auction houses and collectors are going to have to adjust to longer lead times–and over-exclusion: i.e., the vetting process is by its nature going to require setting aside as unsellable not just obvious fakes, but also bottles whose provenance is murky, or that have questionable variations, but that may nonetheless be authentic and provide great drinking experiences.
–This problemof potential over-exclusion suggests that there may be a better way to look at this issue. Sotheby’s may currently do the best job of vetting its wine sales, but does anyone else share my view that these sales tend to be rather boring, especially for those whose interests in Burgundy extend beyond recent vintages of DRC and a handful of others? Once the obvious fakes are excluded, I think there still needs to be a “safe” market for those bottles that are neither of impeccable provenance, nor counterfeit—it just has to be a market in which they find their own level, and are not (as now) marketed and priced as if they had lain in some cold country house cellar since release. The possible model for achieving this is very different from the one the auction houses currently employ, and one that takes its cue from the securities industry: full disclosure of all material facts that would affect a reasonable buyer’s decision. Presumably, if everything relevant about provenance, condition and storage, is disclosed, then informed buyers can make their own decisions, and bottles will find different price levels depending on the perceived risk. This approach was used to some extent years ago by Chicago Wine Company, in its “caveat emptor” section—mostly bottles with severe ullage, or potential seepage, etc. but there’s no reason not to extend this to wines that, for example, have traded multiple times, or that seem correct but lack information on where they’ve been. Let those bottles find their own price level, based on honest reporting—the auction house has to say what it knows, after reasonable due diligence, and what it can’t find out (for example if sellers don’t have, or won’t produce, any records of purchase, that would be disclosed). It must be clear, though, that this is not just a variant of willful blindness. What should raise red (if not black) flags, is a complete lack of any information on the provenance of rare and expensive bottles. The silence of Spectrum/Vanquish on this point had to be disturbing to anyone concerned about authenticity—evidently including DRC among others. Real due diligence has to be a cornerstone of this approach, and I would advocate this be overseen by truly independent third parties, as a part of the expert review process outlined above, and not by in-house personnel whose compensation, or indeed continued employment, may be conditioned on their pliability. Nor should the auction houses be able to rely on “captive” third parties, whose retention similarly may depend on telling the auction house what it wants to hear.
–If the auction houses (or some of them) were willing to adopt this approach, then while certain sellers would for obvious reasons flee into the shadows, it could have several positives (beyond simply being the right and honest thing to do). First, I think it would provide a competitive advantage in terms of dealing with buyers, because buyers would presumably prefer to deal with a source they could trust (indeed, it might help bring to the auction market the large number of collectors who today regard the auction houses as a place to dump their trash, not as a source they would seriously consider buying from). Second, it would obviate the liability issues that are sure to be coming the way of auction houses that persist in dealing with fraudulent goods even when warned; and third, it might obviate the perception of a need to impose liability on all the auction houses through new laws and regulations.
— There will be several challenges for the auction houses in adopting such an approach. The first is the often chaotic nature of the auction process for wine, where large amounts of wine may arrive last minute, and all have to be appropriately examined for identification of the wine, label conditions, capsule conditions, etc. Slowing down the process while an expert chews over the most desirable bottles is not going to be appealing to the auction houses, but in fact right now some auction houses are doing this, and it doesn’t seem to measurably affect their ability to bring quality consignments to auction. Second, there is a risk of overkill in that small consignments of wines with no known counterfeit issues should not need to be subjected to the same depth of examination as large consignments of Lafite, DRC, etc. The biggest issue for the auction houses will likely be that of naming sellers, and others in the chain of title. While I would point out that even now, if you’re a big enough customer, the auction houses will quietly tell you who the seller is, there is concededly a big difference between that and publication, and it is one that clearly would hurt their ability to attract consignors. Nor is this just about questionable consignors not wanting to be identified; I have known plenty of people with great collections who would have balked if they thought that their moment of financial distress would become obvious to the world. However, this may not be as large a problem as it seems. On one side of the equation, some major consignors already understand the utility of attaching their names to their collections, and on the other, the number of bad actors whose names are widely recognized in the collector community is actually fairly small. So something would have to be worked out so that more information about consignors and others in the chain would be available in enough detail for it to be obvious when a bad actor was in the chain, but without clearly identifying individuals who have a reasonable expectation of privacy; nonetheless this seems like something that, once again, could adequately be controlled by a third party gatekeeper.
To summarize, I think that a system can be worked out to prevent most frauds, without legislative intervention—provided a critical mass of auction houses would be willing to do so. If I’m right, then given their current reluctance to step up, what may be needed is a little “gentle” encouragement from us, their customers—by making our preferences known in the way they will best understand, through our patronage of those who will stand up and do the right thing, and refusal to do business with those who won’t.
2008 Revisited, and Other Notes
In last year’s vintage report, I noted the difficulties of tasting the 2008s in November 2009:
“Malos often did not finish until August or September, and in a few cases were not finished even at the time of our visit in mid-November ….Many of the wines we tasted had only recently been racked, or were in need of a racking, and as a result were much more difficult to assess than is typically true at this time of year. In addition, the vintage is characterized by high acidities, and often as well by dry tannins, which frequently made tasting a chore and left one’s palate exhausted at the end of the day. More importantly, it made judgment difficult. In the best of times, barrel tasting is an inexact art ….This year, it is even more problematic, and one kept wishing for the opportunity to taste these wines in 3 months, when they surely will have become less obdurate.”
While the main focus of our trip in November 2010 was on the ’09s, we did have an opportunity to taste a good sampling of ’08s, and I am happy to report that there are a number of wines that have turned out well, especially among the whites, but also among the reds. That said, on the red side my view is more one of relief that there are wines that will give pleasure, rather than that this is somehow a great, underrated terroir vintage. While I heard many comparisons of 2008 to 2001 during our trip, I am not convinced that 2008 is at the same level as 2001. Of course, when making comparisons, one has first to define what is being compared, and while 2001 was a very uneven vintage in the Côte-de-Nuits, and problematic (among the reds) in the Côte-de-Beaune, I think that among the producers that I follow in the Côte-de-Nuits, their 2001s are ultimately better balanced, more serious wines than their 2008s. Nonetheless, time will tell, so for those of you who disagree, come back in twenty years and let me know what you think! As for the whites, this is an interesting vintage, with some first-rate wines but also a lot of wines that are still unbalanced and acidic. Above all, careful selection is critical.
REDS:
Michel Gaunoux: I never know quite where in my reports to include Michel Gaunoux, as they make a point of not showing wines in barrel, and their focus is generally on vintages that have been in bottle for quite some time. However, as they did begin this year with their ’08s, I include them here. The Pommard Grands Epenots had bright red fruit on the nose and palate, lively acidity and good balance (90), while the Corton Renardes, if a touch light for a grand cru, was quite charming, with notes of cherry and spice and added depth on a long finish (91). The ’05 Pommard Grands Epenots and Rugiens were in a different league: the former with a dense brooding, earthy and minerally nose, but lots of fruit on the palate, a sense of raciness, and excellent weight and density (93)—the makings of a delicious Pommard in 30 years!–and the latter showing lovely red fruit, minerals and perfume, with a beautiful transparency, earthy, medium weight yet powerful and tightly wound (94). The 2005 Corton Renardes was also very nice, but lacked a little elegance (92). An ’03 Pommard Grands Epenots was surprisingly forward and drinkable despite the tannins (89-90), while the ’03 Rugiens seemed much more serious, with a perfumed quality, excellent minerality and a great fruit finish, not overripe, tannins relatively in check, and also drinkable now though it will improve (93). An ’01 Pommard Rugiens had all the elements, but seemed still shut down and unready (90?). A ’98 Corton Renardes was foxy, alright, but not in a good way (84), while an ’88 Pommard Epenots had black fruit, earth and minerals, possibly a bit unbalanced to acid but the tannins at least were fairly resolved for an ’88 (90+). The last wine served was a mystery vintage of Pommard Rugiens, with rich red fruit, minerals, spice and a touch of VA on the nose, and wonderful sweet fruit plus prominent minerality on the palate, and despite a hint of sous-bois on the palate, it was complete, silky and charming (94). Your faithful correspondent earned himself considerable brownie points with the Gaunoux—but alas, not a free bottle—by correctly guessing the vintage, 1947.
Dujac: Jacques Seysses, while not quite admitting that ’07 was a very weak vintage for this domaine, expressed great pride in the ’08s, saying he felt that Dujac was near the top in the vintage. The Morey Village had a lot of rich red fruit, some green olives, and good minerality, tho a somewhat dry finish (87). Gevrey Combottes was excellent if a bit dry at the finish, though with plenty of sweet fruit after (90+), and I liked it a bit better than the Charmes-Chambertin, which despite some nice red cherry fruit on the nose, was very meaty, with a lot of dry tannins at the back (88). The Vosne Malconsorts showed nice medium weight, sweet red cherries, minerality, spice and a touch of the stems, with a lovely spicy red fruit finish, light tannins and slight dryness on the finish (92). Regrettably, we had to leave for our next appointment before we could wrest the Clos-de-la-Roche or Clos-St.-Denis away from les journalistes (Messrs. Meadows and Kolm) in the adjoining cellar.
Grivot: We had the opportunity to taste a range of ’08s here, and they were quite interesting to see. The Vosne Village did not seem well put together (84) and the Vosne Beaumonts, while pleasant, seemed dry at the back (87) but the Nuits Boudots was a very nice wine, with an excellent nose of spice and strawberries, and an earthy, minerally and transparent palate, with the tannins in check even though there was slight dryness at the end (91). The Clos-de-Vougeot had a subdued nose of strawberries and spice, minerality and good balance, and the fierce tannins of a year ago seemed to be rounding out a bit (90+). The Echézeaux seemed pleasant but less interesting (89), while the Richebourg was quite powerful, and dense for an ’08, and though the tannins were prominent, the red fruit on the finish superceded them (92).
Hudelot-Noellat: Another nice range of ’08s, beginning with a spicy Chambolle Village (88), a rather subdued and unforthcoming Chambolle Charmes (87), and a lighter-style Nuits Meurgers with nice strawberry fruit and earth notes, slightly dry at the end (88). The Vosne Beaumonts had a very pretty red fruit nose, and good minerality, though it too was a tad dry at the finish (90). Clos-de-Vougeot had good density and sweet fruit, good balance and the tannins were not overbearing (91), and Romanee-St.-Vivant had lovely red fruit and spice and was rich, elegant and long (92). To me, this range epitomized a lot of the better ’08s I saw: very nice, with good fruit and transparency, but still a lot of tannin and acidity to work through and clearly not the depth or balance of a top-quality vintage.
Lafarge: Not much at the lower or even middle levels: a Bourgogne that seemed a bit underripe; a Volnay Village that also seemed slightly underripe but had nice minerality; a Beaune Aigrots that had good transparency and was long if slightly tannic; a Beaune Grèves that had a good perfumed nose but a hardness on the palate that would not give up; a Volnay Mitans that was perfumed, but in the style of a painted lady, earthy and coarse; and a Volnay Clos-du-Château- des-Ducs that had more moderate tannins, but also a lack of structure in the middle. Things got much better with the Volnay Clos-des-Chênes, with spice, black cherries and minerals on the nose, a balanced minerally wine with more covered tannins (90?) and the Volnay Caillerets, which was very transparent, a slight bit chunky on the mid-palate but not obtrusively so, and had a lovely finish of black cherries and minerals, with tannins modulated (90).
Lambrays: I include the Domaine des Lambrays here because it is a good example of the less successful side of ’08. 100% whole clusters were used here in ’08, and the results are dry, tannic wines that certainly aren’t showing much balance at any level: Morey Village (86), Morey 1er Cru Les Loups (87) or Clos-des-Lambrays (?).
Liger-Belair: While the ’08 Vosne Reignots seemed at this stage to be cloaked in an impenetrable armor of oak, the Echézeaux was much more forthcoming, with light cherry flavors, strong minerally acidity, and good spice, and of course plenty of tannin after (90), while La Romanée showed excellent Vosne spicebox character, nice transparency, and a defter touch of oak; it is a lighter style of La Romanée, but the tannins are not overdone and it should round out nicely (91-92).
Georges Mugneret-Gibourg: Given the steadily high quality of the winemaking at this domaine, I see these wines as a bellwether for the vintage: weaker at the lower levels, very nice for the most part among the premier and grand crus, but rarely exciting. The Bourgogne was not fully balanced (82) and the Vosne Village was barnyardy and seemed under-ripe (?) but things improved considerably from there. The Nuits Les Vignerondes was light but pure (88) and the Chaignots had light sweet fruit and minerals, citrus and spice and a nice minerally earthy finish (88+), while the Chambolle Feusellottes had very nice light Chambolle fruit on the nose, with good minerality, excellent equilibrium, a touch of hardness on the finish but also spicy sweet fruit (89). The Echézeaux had good balance, red fruit, a chocolate note, some citrus and acid at the end but overall was a pleasant wine (91). The Gevrey 1er Cru (young vines Ruchottes) had good presence and transparency and a decent amount of fruit (90), and while there was more complexity to the Ruchottes, with purity and balance, it seemed a little sappy and dry on the back, and so I scored it the same as the jeunes vignes (90). The Clos-de-Vougeot was very minerally, a touch meaty, with light spice and citrus; though it seemed slightly ponderous, it had a lot to it, with surprisingly silky tannins and a nice pure citrus and mineral finish (91+).
Mugnier: Another bellwether. The Chambolle Villages had pleasant fruit, but was a bit dry and short (87); the Nuits Clos des Fourches was also a bit light, rustic but also pleasant (86), and the Nuits Clos-de-la-Maréchale seemed to me to have too much rustic tannin despite its sweet rich fruit (87). The Chambolle Fuées, however, was a lovely wine, if slightly simple (89) and the Bonnes-Mares was earthy and minerally, with spice and black cherries, a nicely blanced wine that reminded me in style of a ’98 (90). The Chambolle Amoureuses was a big step up, with lovely red fruit and spice on the nose, minerals, anise and a long spicy finish—there is a lot of charm in this wine (92). The Musigny had deep red fruit, spice and minerals on the nose, lovely weight and gracefulness to it, a fairly dense wine with a vibrant finish and still a lot of tannin, again analogous to the ’98 in its overall quality level though not necessarily in its flavor profile (92-93).
Roumier: These wines were showing far better than a year earlier. Christophe thinks his ’08s will drink soon. The Chambolle Village had a lot of lovely red fruit, if slight sappiness at the end (87), while the Chambolle Les Cras was much more serious, with light spicy fruit on the nose and palate, a touch of lavender, and acidity that is clearly present but not overwhelming, leading to a spicy finish (90). The Chambolle Amoureuses had a lovely nose of small berry fruit and deep spice; on the palate there were also hints of smoke and wild mushrooms, and good minerality, with the acidity not overwhelming; on the finish the tannins seemed slightly hard but there was luscious fruit there as well (92-93). The Bonnes-Mares started with an odd hint of buttered popcorn but then became dense and minerally with both red and black fruit notes, while on the palate it was intense and spicy (93+?); I thought it had more to it in terms of density than any other ’08 I tasted this trip (which unfortunately did not include a revisit of the DRC or Rousseau ’08s tasted last year).
Other ’08 Reds: A very transparent Clos-des-Epeneaux from Comte Armand, though showing some heavy tannins at the end (90) and a Nuits Aux Thoreys from Benjamin Leroux that showed great purity on the nose, ripe fruit and earth, citrus, and a reasonable level of tannin (90); a spicy Clos-de-Tart, with sweet red fruit, still a bit high in acidity (89); only two wines from Méo, neither showing at all: a funky, stripped Vosne Village with very dry tannins (82) and the unfortunate Nuits Aux Argillas I referred to in my report on the ’09s (70); from Chateau de la Tour, a regular Clos-de-Vougeot that seemed a bit marked by the stems, with good minerality but dry tannins (87) and a Clos-de-Vougeot Vielles Vignes that had nice purity, density and depth, with spice and cherry fruit and finer tannins than the regular version (89-90); and a decidedly mixed bag from Trapet, beginning with a Gevrey L’Ostrea and a Gevrey Clos Prieur, both opened two days earlier, that showed chemical notes, then a Chapelle-Chambertin that had transparency but also quite strong tannins, and a Latricières-Chambertin that seemed quite representative of the vintage in that it had nice transparency but a bit too much acid and not quite enough fruit (88), and finally a Chambertin that displayed an aristocratic nose, a lot of very precise fruit and minerals, but just too much acidity to achieve balance (89-90).
WHITES:
Côte-de-Beaune
Leflaive: While the bottling here normally takes place in the spring, the ’08s were not bottled until just before our visit, because of the prolonged malos. Interestingly, the Meursault 1er Cru Sous le Dos d’Âne (from a vineyard planted to pinot noir until 1995, with a little even remaining until 2002) had a rich, creamy, bacon fat nose, a lot of minerals and spice, and a strong strike of acid in back (90). The Puligny Combettes, while showing a lot of SO2 that for the time being seemed to suppress the nose a bit, was very minerally, with excellent weight, energy and drive. There is a good bit of acidity at the finish, and this wine needs time (91+). Antoine Lepetit believes that 2008 has more maturity and concentration than 1996; if true, it portends a brilliant future for these wines.
Lambrays: A fairly nice Folatières, with a hint of apricots, soft for an ’08 with lots of white flowers, but more tension than the ’09 (89-90). The Clos du Caillerets, however, had a curious note of torrefaction on both the nose and palate, and a touch of caramel, which I disliked (84).
Latour-Giraud: Though the Meursault Cuvée Charles Maxime and the Narvaux were not showing particularly well, and the Genevrieres had an off-putting note of asparagus on the palate, the Meursault Charmes showed well, with good minerality covered by white flowers, apples and spice (90), as did the Meursault Genevrières Cuvée des Pierre, with hints of wildflowers, stones and honey on the nose; on the palate it was somewhat brooding but very pure, with a stony element but a nice balancing floral component and a touch of spice—a concentrated wine that needs time to come together (92). By contrast, the nose of the Meursault Perrières leapt out of the glass, with notes of stoniness, white flowers, anise and pear; on the palate it had similar notes, great balance and a spicy long finish—a long distance runner (93-94).
Bernard Moreau: The ’08s here (as at several other stops) very much outclassed the ’09s. The Chassagne Maltroie had some nice peach spice, ginger and a hint of clove, along with some fat but lots of minerally acidity to balance (91), while the Chassagne Chenevottes was more restrained on the nose, but had a creamy texture notwithstanding the acidity, a lot of power, and a licorice note on the finish (91). The Chassagne Vergers ran more to russet apples, with a dense, driven minerality, though a touch of dryness on the finish led me to mark it slightly below the two prior wines (90). Still more impressive were the Chassagne Morgeots, with spicy apples and smoke on the nose, and powerful, sweet fruit to balance the minerality, plus a long fruit-driven finish, very pure, and needing two years or more (93), and the Chassagne Grands-Ruchottes, with a brilliant nose of spice and white flowers, and great balance and delicacy on the palate, a wine that stays up gracefully on its feet (94).
Paul Pillot: I wish we had had a chance to sample more ‘08s here. The three we did see all had more weight than the ‘09s. The Chassagne Clos St.-Jean had a spicy, floral nose with good balance (89-90), while the Chassagne Grande Montagne had a penetrating nose of spice, honey and lemon cream, became even creamier on the palate, and ended with a dry minerally finish (90). Best was the Chassagne Caillerets, with anise, minerals, spice and lemon on the nose, a lot of tension on the palate, a floral touch, and a racy, tense minerally finish, with great drive—“my kind of white Burg,” I noted(92).
DRC: Tasting the prior vintage Montrachet was a pleasure we don’t always get at the Domaine. The nose had spice, honeysuckle, pain d’épice and minerals; these carried through on the rich and complex palate, with a hint of sweet plums as well as a touch of oak at the back, and the finish was powerful and extremely long, with pain d’épice, minerals and bracing acidity—Aubert noted that this is one of the most minerally Montrachets the Domaine has ever made. For me, though, there is a slight hint of fattiness that makes it not quite in the class of the ’96. (93-94).
Roulot: This was one of the few domaines where I tended to prefer the ’09s to the ’08s. The Meursault Luchets had a rich nose of honeysuckle, smoke and a touch of bacon fat; on the palate, there was an asparagus note I didn’t care for, with minerals after, and a short finish (84). To pause here, we also tasted the ’07 Luchets, a far better wine, with minerals, anise, spice and fat in the nose, a ripe and round wine with nevertheless a minerally streak, and a long minerally finish (90). Jean-Marc commented that the ’07 was “very Roulot.” We then retasted the ’09 Luchets, and while it was more linear than the ’07 it had more weight and intensity, and may well have more potential than the ’07; the ’08 was a very distant third in this race. We then segued back to the ’08s, with a Meursault Tessons Clos de Mon Plaisir that had a vegetal note on the nose and artichokes on the finish, though some good minerality and tension (86), and a decent but not exciting Meursault Perrières, with smoke and a hint of cardoons on the nose, a lot of flesh for an ’08, minerals, red currants and allspice on the medium-weight palate, and a finish with spice, slate and a hint of caramel (88).
Chablis
Fevre: We only tasted two ’08s, but they clearly overshadowed anything we tasted among the ’09s. The Bougros (Côte de Bouguerots) was much spicier than the ’09 version, with more acidity in evidence as well, an intense rich racy but balanced wine, leaner than ’09 though there was sweet fruit in evidence, with a long minerally uncompromising finish (92). Didier Séguier thought it was the best Côte de Bouguerots in the twelve years since Bouchard had taken over the estate. Les Clos, while not giving too much away just yet, had even more depth—more “civilized” than the Côte de Bouguerots, with notes of apples, spice, pears and minerals, a large-framed wine, with pain d’épice and brioche on the finish; this wine needs time (93+).
Christian Moreau: While the ’08 bottles we tasted had been open for several days, they were holding relatively well—indeed in a couple of cases still seemed relatively unforthcoming. The Chablis Vaudésir, from relatively young vines, was slightly toasty on the nose and very minerally and powerful, if a bit dry at the finish (90), while the Chablis Valmur seemed very cool and austere, not especially forthcoming or knit, though perhaps it will come together in time (89?). Les Clos was considerably better, and despite a discreet nose of toast and gingerbread, it had lovely weight, knife-edge minerality, and a rich, long, if slightly hot finish (92). Best of all, though, was the Clos des Hospices, with a nose of spice, licorice, minerals and a touch of honey, lovely weight and balance between the fruit and minerality on the palate, and a long, spicy finish (95).
Other ’08 Whites: Among the other ’08 whites we tasted were a pleasant Corton Blanc from Senard, with some nice spice and minerals, a touch of sweetness and a nice minerally finish with good cut (though the ’07 was better), and a surprisingly good ’08 Chablis Montée de Tonnerre from La Chablisienne (I found it more racy and appealing than either the Vaudésir or the Preuses from the same source).
An Update (If You Can Call It That) on Premox: Finally, and sadly, no report on white Burgundies is complete without a note about premature oxidation. In brief, the problem continues, with the ’02s becoming increasingly affected and some of the ’04s beginning to show signs of it as well. While, as I reported last year, the focus has partly shifted from the corks, as concerns are increasingly voiced that various elements of the winemaking process have been making the wines more susceptible to oxidation, and that the cork issues then determined which and how many of the resulting bottles would be affected. Much attention is now being focused on the pressing process, with the theory being advanced that the wines are not getting enough exposure to oxygen early on, and that, as with children, exposure at a young age to certain maladies helps build greater immunity to them later in life (this is not to ignore the role of other factors, particularly earlier in this ongoing saga, such as increased use of battonage and lowered SO2 levels, but these are not currently issues for the better producers). While more producers are admitting that there is a problem, denial itself remains an issue, particularly as sales do not yet seem to be seriously affected. The mixed mindset of many Burgundians was strikingly evidenced in one cellar we visited, where the producer, among the most thoughtful in the region, had just finished telling us about an experiment he was conducting beginning with his ’09s to see if (to greatly simplify what he is doing) changes in the winemaking process that would expose the wine to more oxygenation early on would, in effect, inoculate the wine from future problems. It sounded like a very interesting experiment but it will take years to see if it’s working (the producer asked not to be named until he has some indication of the results). After this discussion, he served us one of his ’02s, which we found to be seriously premoxed. Before serving us another bottle, he asked us to taste an ’04, and then retaste the ’02. He admitted that he had at first felt that our reaction to the ’02 was overblown, and might have resulted from the transition from ’09 to ’02, but as he went back to the ’02 he (somewhat reluctantly, it seemed) admitted we were right. He then opened a second bottle of the ’02, which also had a clear touch of premox, though it was not as prominent as the first, and a lively debate ensued in which the producer took view that we were overreacting and that the wine was still drinkable. My view, which I expressed to him then and continue to hold, is that while it might well have been “drinkable,” it was not what it is supposed to be, and furthermore not something one would voluntarily pay $100 or more for in a store, or several times that in a restaurant. I thought it a sad portent that a producer who on one level is at the forefront of recognizing and dealing with the problem, should on another level still be reluctant to acknowledge its effect on his own wines. Plus ça change….

From its early days, the 1990 vintage in Burgundy was hailed as a very great vintage, with the potential to become the finest vintage since perhaps 1959. The summer had been quite hot and dry, enough to retard maturation, but significant rain at the end of August and in early September restarted development and after three weeks of warm weather a large crop was harvested beginning in late September. In their youth, the reds seemed to be bursting with ripe fruit, and to have a depth and intensity that certainly had not been seen in Burgundy in quite some years. Yet as these wines began to reach adolescence, troubling signs emerged. The flavors often seemed baked, and increasingly one began to see wines whose fruit was drying up, leaving behind an empty shell. However, other wines remained youthful and bright, seeming to retain their early promise. Clearly, as the wines approached twenty years of age, it was a good time to assess the vintage. At a tasting held in Connecticut March 27-28, 2010, organized by Bob Feinn and benignly presided over by the buddha of Burgundy, Clive Coates, we sampled approximately 60 reds from 1990, in three sessions (we also tasted half a dozen whites; more about these later).
The first session included about a dozen wines from the Cote de Beaune, beginning with the Santenay Clos Tavannes of Pousse d’Or and including three Volnay 1er Crus from Hubert de Montille, Beaune Clos des Mouches from Drouhin, Pommard Grand Clos des Epenots from Courcel and Clos des Epeneaux from Comte Armand, and Corton Clos des Cortons from Faiveley. The dominant impression from all of these wines was of baked fruit, and a distressing lack of balance, with several beginning to show oxidative notes and others, most notably the Volnay Champans from de Montille, still retaining aggressive tannins. Most merited scores in the low 80s. Even the Lafarge Volnay Clos des Chenes, while showing some finesse, seemed to be beginning to dry out (89). The situation improved, but only slightly, when we arrived at the wines of the Cote de Nuits, with a pleasant if undistinguished Morey-St.-Denis En La Rue de Vergy from Bruno Clair (accompanied by a curious, almost non-Burgundian version from Henri Perrot-Minot), and a more nuanced Morey-St.-Denis 1er Cru Vielles Vignes from Hubert Lignier, which has some nice old vines complexity, though it seemed lighter and less interesting than it was 5+ years ago. A Nuits-St.-Georges Aux Meurgers from Meo-Camuzet displayed the virtues and flaws that seem to run through all the Meo 1990’s (including the Cros Parantoux, tasted two weeks earlier), with good depth of fruit and complexity being marred by an inexperienced oak regimen that obtrudes on the finish. Only a poised and nuanced Nuits-St.-Georges Les St. Georges from Gouges broke the spell, with excellent balance, sweet, unbaked fruit, earth and mineral tones, and a long, if slightly hot, finish (92).
For the second session, we began with the Vosne premier crus, and while the problems were more varied in nature, things were not necessarily looking up. A Chaumes from Jean Tardy was heavy and ponderous, with too much rustic tannin (85), while the Clos des Reas from Jean Gros had almost dirty off-notes (several people noted that the same was true of a bottle in the Clos des Reas tasting the prior week). The Hudelot Malconsorts, like all of the Hudelot 1990s, began with a fair amount of barnyard and an almost soupy quality, and then transitioned to something that was sweet and easy, pleasant but no more (88), while the Meo Brulees, which had a lot going for it in terms of black fruit, minerals and balance, again was dominated on the finish by the oak (88). A flight of Clos Vougeots raised the bar only slightly, with the Rion, despite some attractive qualities, typically soupy and with enough finishing oak to make the Meo look restrained (87), a good but not profound Arnoux, which had nice clarity and minerality but a touch of heat and burnt fruit at the end (89), an Anne & Francois Gros Grand Maupertuis that was powerful, with rich cherries and plums, though the oak up front and heat on the finish troubled me (88),
a Faiveley that showed a remarkable lack of fruit given the vintage, dried underbrush notes, and raspy tannins (82), and a Hudelot-Noellat that resembled the Malconsorts in being sweet and easy, slightly more weighty though with less minerality than its premier cru cousin (87). Among the Clos Vougeots, the best for me was the Musigni of Gros Frere et Soeur—with good minerality, a gamy note, medium body, excellent balance and a sweet fruit finish (91). (Clive Coates noted that these vines were still relatively young in 1990.) Two Romanee St. Vivants followed: a Confuron which despite some silkiness had too much toasty oak and not very refined tannins for an RSV (86), and a very good Jadot, with a nose of refined Asian spice, excellent power and presence, and only some slightly rough tannins detracting a bit from the overall positive impression (90).
It was with the next flight, however, that we really began to see the “other” 1990 vintage emerge. Finally we saw wines that reflected the full potential of the vintage, and it was a remarkable potential indeed. The most outstanding of seven Richebourgs was clearly the Jean Gros, with a deep nose of smoke, spice, black fruit and game; on the palate it was both intense and refined, with a very long minerally finish (96). Indeed, if any appellation seems to evoke the spirit of this vintage, it is Richebourg, with its predisposition to power and density allied to finesse. The Gros Frere & Soeur was also quite good, showing that density and power, with refined tannins on the finish (93). The Hudelot-Noellat was again a bit too easy but its appealing sweet fruit and charm were hard to resist totally (90), while the Leroy was still young, and a bit idiosyncratic—more Leroy than Richebourg, one felt—but complex, with notes of cinnamon, gingerbread, and gooseberry (!), and quite powerful (91+). (A bottle from Anne-Francoise Gros, though the same wine as the Jean Gros, was distinctly different in both color and flavor profile (87); bottles from Grivot and Thibault Liger-Belair were clearly off-kilter (NR)).
Building from strength to strength, the next up was La Romanee (Bouchard P&F bottling), which had a distinct aroma of violets, spice and game; though to the nit-picky (moi?) it was a bit burly for La Romanee and carrying a bit too much new oak, it was nevertheless a triumph of vineyard and vintage over indifferent winemaking (92). The La Tache was in another realm; while it remains stubbornly youthful, it is also full of promise, with a nose of intense Asian spice, violets and what Aubert de Villaine calls the “touch of green” that turns eventually to rose petal; on the palate it had wonderful sweet silky fruit, great power and highly refined tannins, and after a half hour in the glass, the glorious “peacock’s tail” finish emerged (96+). We then finished the evening, perhaps a little idiosyncratically, with two Musignys. The first, from Drouhin, while still evolving and carrying a fair amount of tannin, was becoming silky and elegant, a wine of great charm and breed, with a long transparent finish (94). Last came the de Vogue, a controversial wine whose last credible defender, Clive Coates, was there to present the defense. This wine, which Clive said was, out of barrel, the best young Burgundy he had ever tasted (and indeed I felt similarly when I tasted the wine newly arrived in bottle), seemed to me—among many others, most notably Burghound–to be coming apart by the turn of the millennium, with drying fruit and screechy tannins. Yet Clive has maintained that the problem was one of the “American stock” of this wine—that something had happened in the shipping process, and that bottles in France, acquired from the Domaine, showed no such problems. To make his point, Clive provided a bottle from his own stock. While this was in relative terms fresher than any bottle I have had in a long time, it still showed signs of losing its fruit and had a raspy tannic finish, suggesting that this bottle was merely a few years behind in its (negative) development, rather than being different in kind to the “American stock.” Even Clive acknowledged that this bottle had not showed as he hoped, and doubt seemed to be creeping in—at least for the moment.
The third session proved something of an anti-climax, though with five Rousseaus in prospect, it should
have been more than that. In brief, there were a number of wines from both the “good” and “bad” 1990 vintages, as well as a number that simply failed to show well, or reflected poor winemaking. Among the wines that showed well were the Drouhin Chambertin, with lovely meat, smoke, spice, lavender and licorice, impeccable balance and a silky texture (96), Roumier Bonnes Mares, showing more density than most examples I have had of this (93), and a first-rate Griottes-Chambertin from Ponsot, now developing a great silky texture despite still carrying a fair amount of tannin (93+). Also showing well were the Ruchottes-Chambertin from Dr. Georges Mugneret, with characteristic meatiness, excellent weight and power, though not an especially elegant wine, and one that still needs time (91), and both the Mazy-Chambertin (90+) and Clos de la Roche (91) from Rousseau, as well as a Drouhin Bonnes Mares that, while still good, had seemed more compelling earlier in the decade (90). Sadly, especially given the performance of the “lesser” Rousseaus, neither the Chambertin nor the Clos de Beze was in form: both seemed reduced, though I’m not sure why that would be, and though they showed elements of greatness, neither of these bottles was what it should have been (at the Chambertin/Beze retrospective in 2002, both showed quite well, meriting 94 and 93+ scores). Other bottles worth mentioning included the Rousseau Ruchottes, which was a bit on the barnyard side (89), its showing consistent with most prior tastings of this wine; and the Vogue Bonnes Mares, from “American stock” and showing about the same level of negative development as the Musigny (88). The Faiveley Gevrey Cazetiers and Clos de Beze were both disappointing, as was a Bouchard Chambertin, but all seemed to suffer more from indifferent winemaking and sloppy oak treatment than from the vintage, and a Dujac Gevrey Combottes was pleasant but anonymous (87). A Remoissenet Charmes-Chambertin is best passed over in silence.
A few brief words on the whites: we only had 6, not enough to be a representative sample (and of these, one was corked), yet they ran a considerable gamut: a dead bottle of Latour Chevalier-Montrachet Les Demoiselles (no surprise there), an aging but still aggressive and idiosyncratic Lafon Meursault Charmes, a youthful but slight bottle of Leflaive Puligny Pucelles, a delicious bottle of de Vogue Musigny Blanc, beautifully reflecting the unusual terroir of this wine (92), and a really fine bottle of Bienvenues-Batard- Montrachet from Ramonet, showing perhaps more power than usual for this vineyard, a classic Ramonet flavor profile, a good deal of intensity and great persistence (93).
In sum, the best reds have rich, ripe fruit, complexity, density and balance, and at age 20 are now just beginning to develop a silkiness that should become more pronounced as time passes, and they possess the tannin and acid structure to age and develop for a considerable period to come. Though this is not a particularly terroir-driven vintage, the terroir is not invisible, and certain terroirs (Richebourg) seem more in sync with the vintage than others (Volnay). But the vintage clearly had its problems, and as noted above many of the wines are unbalanced, with baked flavors and aromas, drying fruit, and the beginnings of oxidative notes. What happened? Allen Meadows offers the best perspective, noting that the cessation of progress toward full maturity as a result of the summer’s heat, coupled with generally quite high yields, often did not allow for fully ripe phenolics despite producing aromas that were initially suggestive of full ripeness. Also, one needs to remember that in 1990, Burgundy was in transition: for example, as Clive Coates notes in his book, canopy management, which would have been helpful in a vintage such as this, was as yet poorly understood, and there was less pruning to lower yields than is the case today. In addition, while most of the then-top producers were represented in this tasting (a significant exception was Henri Jayer, whose Cros Parantoux, tasted two weeks earlier, was stunningly pure and elegant (96) ), among those producers, several–including Meo, Hudelot-Noellat, Arnoux and Grivot (and to an extent Georges Mugneret), as well as Faiveley and Bouchard among the negociants–were not producing wines of nearly the caliber that they are today. Thus, between the problems the vintage turned out to present,
and the smaller number of producers at the top of their game, it is not so easy to find wines that express the full potential of this vintage, and there is probably less great wine than one would see were there to be a comparable vintage today. Nevertheless, the best of them are truly superb, and it is certainly reasonable to believe that they will continue to develop well.
© 2010 Douglas E. Barzelay




