1996 Moulin Saint-Georges & 2006 Deux Montille Pernand-Vergelesses 1er Cru “Sous Fretille”
It’s good to see so many restaurants in Singapore participating in Restaurant Week, running from 21-27 March 2011, where full-course lunches and dinners are offered at SGD25 and SGD35, respectively. In the case of top venues, such as Il Lido at the Sentosa Golf Club, there is an additional surcharge of SGD20 but, even then, SGD55 for a generously-portioned 4-course dinner that included a wagyu beef cheek, on top of an amouse bouche and coffee/tea, is superb value.
We began with a 2006 Maison Deux Montille Pernand-Vergelesses 1er Cru “Sous Fretille”, a Burgundy blanc from the Cote de Beaune, bought off the restaurant list for SGD170, part of the restaurant’s one-for-one corkage policy. Dull yellow with an attractive but restrained nose of tropical fruits and pears supported by firm minerality with notes of vanilla, chalk and a hint of cream. Medium to full-bodied, layered with extended depth on the mid-palate, eventually developing a solid wall of stony minerality and a lasting finish of bitter-sweet pomelo fruit amidst some lively acidity. 
Well balanced, although it lacks the exuberance and opulence of the great Montrachet whites. I kept waiting for the bouquet to blossom handsomely but in spite of sitting in the glass for almost two hours, that didn’t quite materialise. Needs more time in bottle, but it is rather fine.
This set the stage nicely for the 1996 Ch Moulin Saint-Georges, which I’d brought. Decanted on site for about 90 minutes before tasting. Dubbed a “poor man’s Ausone“, as this estate adjoins Ch Ausone and is, indeed, made by the very same Alain Vauthier of Ch Ausone, this deep purple wine exuded a powerful nose of intense minerality (one could literally smell it) amidst some exotic earthy barnyard aromas which were very attractive, rather than off-putting. Soft and rounded with an excellent mix of red fruits and dark berries, displaying very good concentration and depth with emerging secondary nuances, as evidenced by the sweetness that engulfed the palate. It grew broader with time, becoming rather complex with other notes of mulberry and strawberries appearing, finishing with a touch of plum. This is doing much better than a previous bottle tasted some 3 years ago at Les Artistes Bistro. Excellent.
2001 Lagrange, 1998 Grand-Puy-Lacoste & L’Entrecote
2001 Ch Lagrange, double-decanted and aired further in bottle for a total of 3 hours before sharing it with Kieron at Prive. Clear deep red with only a hint of development at the rim. Quite open with an attractive bouquet of ripe raspberries and blueberries although the initial entry was somewhat thin on fruit, consisting just mainly of its alcoholic structure amidst a dominant note of soy. Gradually, it began fleshing out over time and with food, the flavours of dark berries and dark cherries emerging to the fore. The full potential of this wine was revealed only two hours into the meal, where broad swathes of red fruits, soft and succulent, and other notes of plum and cedar caressed the palate with reasonable depth, supported by firm but supple tannins. Classically structured. Yet to peak. Excellent.
1998 Ch Grand-Puy-Lacoste, double-decanted for 60 minutes before being brought to the excellent L’Entrecote restaurant at Duxton Hill. Deep purplish-red, producing an attractive aroma of raspberries and other dark fruits with a trace of sweetness that followed through on the palate. Unlike a bottle tasted in 2008 that contained too much of green notes, the current one was grippy, rounded and fruit-forward, though without much of a sense of Pauillac, but there was no mistaking the purity of the ripe fruit. Lovely. 
For the uninitiated, L’Entrecote is a chain of restaurants that originated in Paris, with a superb 2-storey outlet in the city centre of Bordeaux itself, that serves only beef steak (done either rare, medium or well-done) paired with thin frites and a generous helping of fresh salad. Half the steak is served to you first (cut in narrow strips), doused in a secret recipe sauce that is simply irresistible, while the other half is replenished onto your plate later, together with additional frites free-of-charge if you desire. I’m pleased to report that the outlet in Singapore, opened some 4 months ago by Laurent Perez, is faithful to the French in every way (apart from the use of the color red, instead of yellow), the steak going for SGD29. Service is smart, attentive and unfussy. And true to the original, just a single type of Bordeaux house red is available, which may be purchased by the glass, carafe (250 ml or 500 ml) or bottle. The wine does its job, but I’d happily pay the SGD30 corkage to bring my own bottle to go with the excellent steak.
Ducru-Beaucaillou: 1982, ’94, ’95 & 2003
The following notes come from a recent spate of wine-and-dine events that happened within the same week, mostly from a dinner at Imperial Treasure, Great World City, on 6 March 2011 with the general manager of the chateau, Stephen Lemaitre, in attendance. None of the wines were decanted, being aired instead in bottle for 2-3 hours prior to tasting.
Before all that, however, we had an overture in the form of the 2000 La Croix de Beaucaillou, the chateau’s second wine but, in reality, actually originating from a different plot of vines, much like Clos du Marquis in relation to Ch Leoville Las-Cases. Transluscent purple with a more evolved rim, from which exuded a powerful, fantastic glow of dried leaves, herbs and leather so unmistakably St Julien and so rich in complexity that one could actually detect the layering within the glorious bouquet. This is followed through on the palate, where one revels in the ripeness of the superb fruit that possessed excellent depth and intensity, laced with a tinge of sweetness. 
A wine that’s yet to peak, but this is so lovely. Most remarkable for a second wine. Not exactly cheap at SGD97, but with such exceptional performance from a wine already aged 10 years from a superlative vintage, everyone agreed it’s a real bargain. I’m seriously considering a case.
The 2003 Ch Ducru-Beaucaillou, deep red that lightened slightly towards the rim, produced a deep luxuriant nose of dark fruits and blackberries with a trace of vanilla that betrayed its youth, but there was none of those raisiny notes to indicate any heat stress from a hot vintage. Medium-full on the palate with a solid core of ripe fruit, rounded and accessible at just the right level of extraction. Rather elegant. Yet to develop secondary nuances, of course, and somewhat short at the finish but it is drinking well. Excellent.
The 1995 Ch Ducru-Beaucaillou, similar in color, was probably the most quintessential of the entire lineup, the classic St Julien terroir – not unlike adjacent Pauillac but layered with fine minerality and a touch of austerity towards the finish – leaping out from the glass irrepressibly, but its balance was lovely, achieving great depth, definition and structure on the palate, yet maintaining an elegant, almost feminine, poise. A wine caught at its peak, and will hold for many years to come. One of the best 1995s I’ve had.
A comparison with the 1994 Ch Ducru-Beaucaillou proved to be highly instructive, the only wine in the lineup that was drunk a few days earlier at Hinoki. Unlike a previous bottle tasted some 5 years ago at restaurant Saint-Julien where the wine seemed to be drying out, the present bottle was quite open on the nose with vibrant notes of violets, cassis and dark berries, the minerality coming through very well too. On the palate, the wine proved contrarian to popular views about 1994, the ripe cabernet fruit absolutely alive, the tannins having melted away, the wine gelling together into a harmonious whole with excellent weight and intensity, just lacking in the opulence and charm of truly good vintages as it tapered towards a moderate finish, a great testimony to the chateau’s skill in so-called difficult vintages. In fact, its shortcomings would have been missed if it had been drunk alone without any yardstick for comparison.
And finally, the 1982 Ch Ducru-Beaucaillou, of which we helped ourselves to a couple of generous pours. This had all the hallmarks of the great ’82s – complex and sophisticated, yet still relatively youthful and nowhere near its peak. The color was one of deep vermillion glow. Restrained on the nose initially, but a powerful bouquet of cinnamon, cassis and mature ripe fruit soon leapt out of the glass, imparting the classic St Julien terroir of pencil shavings, dried leaves and cigar box on the palate, just a shade austere. Incredibly complex, rich and deep, yet supple and almost effortless in the way it combines the structure, fruit, acidity and alcohol. To be honest, if I’d been blinded, I wouldn’t have realised this was a 1982, for the wine was still remarkably fresh and lively. Just as I’d felt back in Aug 2009 (see post) when I last had a ’82 Ducru Beaucaillou, this has the legs to last another two decades, easily.
I came away with a newfound appreciation of Ducru-Beaucaillou. Its wines consistently lay full the expression of St Julien, are more generously flavoured than Leoville Las-Cases, packed with power and effortless grace, and, best of all, remain sensibly priced.
Wild Duck Special: 2009 Both Banks Two !!
At the Ducru-Beaucaillou dinner on 6th March 2011 at Imperial Treasure, Great World City, I was privileged to find myself sitting at the same table with The Duck himself, Mr David Anderson, winemaker of Wild Duck Creek Estate from Heathcote, Victoria, famous for its flagship Duck Muck shiraz which I’ve yet to have the opportunity to taste. Dave was here to spend time with his group of Singaporean friends who are Melbourne alumni, and he’d specially blended a barrel of 2009 cabernet sauvignon (with about 5% cabernet franc, that’s it) for his friends, of which he’d brought a single bottle over to Singapore. 
The name came about as Dave couldn’t care less about the perpetual arguments amongst his friends concerning the merits between the wines of the Left and Right banks. Apparently, he’d done this before; hence, this is version Two.
We drank this right at the end of the Ducru-Beaucaillou wines, having decanted it on-site for almost an hour. Dark ruby with a vermillion glow at the rim. Powerful bouquet of nugmet, plum and, stangely, preserved pickles but it was, admittedly, very unique and attractive. Medium-full, surprisingly accessible with very good concentration of predominantly red fruits, fairly broad and transparent on the palate instead of the usual saturated density one might expect from an Aussie that’s fresh out of the barrel, finishing with reasonable length. The fact that it is showing so well right after a tour de force by the St Julien second growth is testament to the skill of Dave Anderson. This is one event that I’ll never forget.
1990 Ch Rauzan-Segla
For lovers of Japanese fine-dining in Singapore, and especially fans of chef Lawrence Chia, formerly of Kome at Keppel Club, I am pleased to report that Lawrence is back in business at his new restaurant Hinoki at China Square, and that he hasn’t lost any of his magic.
On an evening where we gulped down, literally, glass after glass of excellent sake, we found space as well for some Burgundy and Bordeaux. First was a 2004 Mischief & Mayhem Corton-Charlemagne Grand Cru, bought over the weekend at Denise’s clearance sale at Turf City. I’ve always eyed this label with some suspicion: what can a negociant house hope to achieve with such a name? If it’d hoped to stoke up one’s curiosity, it succeeded, for I reckoned SGD75 wouldn’t be too much of a loss should it turned out poorly. But who has ever had a bad Corton-Charlemagne? Popped and poured, displaying a dull golden hue. It came across quite well on the nose, appropriately weighty with notes of citrus and cashews, opening up rapidly with lifted aromas of lychees and other tropical fruits emerging as it warmed up in the glass, topped by a layer of caramel. 
Medium-bodied, lively and well-balanced, though definitely not in the same league as Bonneau du Martray, lacking in opulence, but it managed to develop a smooth, creamy and rounded finish. Money well spent.
The 1990 Ch Rauzan-Segla (courtesy of Hiok) that followed had been double-decanted and aired further in bottle, showing an evolved red. Very open, exuding a powerful bouquet of herbal menthol that hinted at some voluptuousness. Gentle on the entry, soft and rounded in spite of its density and concentration, mature with notes of cinnamon and old leather laced with a tinge of sweetness, perfectly harmonious, eventually settling into a homogenous complex wine layered with fine minerality. I have a feeling it hasn’t actually peaked. Excellent, though not quite quintessential of that commune.
Notes in brief (February 2011): 2008 Lady May
2005 Ch La Motte, a gift from a colleague, drunk at home during dinner on the first day of Chinese New Year, 3 Feb. Aired in bottle for 3 hours prior. Dark inky red. Notes of plum and licorice, laced with some sweetness. Quite well-crafted as there was no trace of heat from the 14.5% alcohol. Rather saturated on the palate, although it managed to avoid being overtly fruity, striking a good balance. I don’t usually fancy South African reds but this is actually very decent. Went well with the Chinese dishes.
2003 Ch Cissac, a half-bottle bought from Enoteca (at Takashimaya Shopping Centre, Singapore, basement 2), popped and drunk rather quickly over 45 minutes with a Monster Burger at Foo House, 6 Feb. Dark red. The initial impression was a soft wine of moderate concentration and intensity with notes of bitter chocolate and a mild herbal undertone of bramble and bush, still bearing a relatively tannic spine, slightly oaky. It got better with time, more open with better concentration and more of the ripe fruit coming through, developing into a bigger wine. We drunk it too quickly, of course, but I daresay it has plenty of potential. At only SGD28, I’m getting half a dozen more.
2008 Lady May Glenelly, over a lo-hei lunch at Imperial Treasure T3. Any wine made on foreign soil by an established Bordelais is bound to raise comparisons between Old and New World, and I suppose we can’t run away here. This is a new label, a straight cabernet sauvignon from the region of Stellenbosch, South Africa, made by May de Lencquesaing of Ch Pichon Lalande, aged in French oak, of course. Popped and poured. Beautful dark red, lightening towards the rim. One senses something different from the first whiff – the nose fairly open with a mix of dark and red berries, not overtly forward. More interestingly, the classic cabernet character of dried leaves, tobacco and pencil shavings are all there. In spite of its relative intensity and concentration, the medium-full wine is surprisingly gentle on the entry, broadening on the palate with a rush of fruit laced with fresh glycerin mid-way through but receding just as quickly, giving way to a tight tannic spine that’s beautifuly controlled. There’s absolutely none of that woody, plummy, spicy licorice note of New World cabernet, nor any hint of its 14.5% alcohol. One admires the expert craftsmanship. Almost feminine, befitting its assocition with Comtesse de Lalande. Does this mean it truly resembles an Old World? In many ways it does, but it does justice to the local terroir too, which is probably the best compliment one can pay. This wine can easily sell for twice the price. But it’s only SGD60, from Bob Rees of WEA. Excellent!
2003 Ch Pibran, a magnum bought from Vinum for SGD140, drunk over a final Chinese New Year dinner at Hua Ting restaurant, Orchard Hotel, Singapore. Decanted for an hour. This Pauillac estate, with vineyards close to Mouton Rothschild, usually produces stern robust oaky reds during good vintages, whilst difficult years may result in weedy wines lacking adequate stuffing. The hot uneven 2003 vintage tends to favour the Left Bank, and it shows. There is a very decent mix of blueberries and dark fruits with good density and concentration and a bit of layering as well. It became more plummy and intense after some time, developing a tannic finish. Not bad at all. Something you can use as a starting red to slosh the non-drinkers.
2007 North Valley Pinot Noir, from the region of Willamette in Oregon. Bought off the restaurant list of Hippopotamus restaurant at Marina Square for SGD68. Popped and poured, served in decidedly sub-optimal glasses. A dull shade of pinot. Somewhat thin and alcoholic (13.6%) at the beginning, but this dissipated quickly, allowing the fruit, admittedly quite lovely, to emerge. Usual red fruits and cherries dominate, appropriately dense on the mid-palate with a trace of licorice and raspberries, good concentration, tapering to a sharp accent on the finish. This is a very decent effort.
2005 Ch Villars de Fontaine, a white bourgogne from the Hautes Cotes de Nuits, over a yusheng dinner at Roland restaurant on 5 Feb. This is my third bottle from a half dozen purchased from Le Benaton some 3 years ago. Aired briefly in bottle before being served. Dull golden. Grassy overtones dominate initially, the wine seemingly shut and bereft of character. Things got a lot better after an hour, with some caramel, cream and almonds appearing on the nose while a wall of stony minerality developed on the palate, slightly sharp but well-defined, admittedly. The grassy notes receded somewhat but still dominated at the finish. This wine could do with more layering, depth and concentration. Difficult to tell how it would all turn out.
1998 Louis Jadot Beaune “Clos des Ursules” 1er Cru, over dinner at Uluru steakhouse. Dull light purple tint. Popped and poured. Subdued initially on the nose, but it opened up after some airing to reveal abundant red fruits, strawberries and cherries. Medium-bodied and homogenous, somewhat thick in the middle with a salty accent, leading to a moderate finish. Lacking in real depth and layering, perhaps symptomatic of the reds south of the Cote des Nuits.
2008 Neudorf sauvignon blanc, from the region of Nelson, New Zealand, on a hot afternoon, 6 Feb, at the residence of the former Honorary Consul to Cyprus. Straw-colored. Bitter citrus and pomelo predominate, along with steely minerality that led to a stern, austere finish. I can’t say I enjoyed it.
2006 Ch Martet, a magnum ordered off the restaurant list of Le Bistrot du Sommelier in Singapore on the last day of February, courtesy of FJP. This is a 100% merlot grown in the region of Graves. Decanted in the restaurant. Deep garnet core with a dark purple rim. A bit muted on the nose initially, but it gradually opened up with notes of dark berries, blueberries and violets. Soft and accessible on the palate without the cabernet structure but the fruit is nicely ripe and long-flavoured, adding to the supple tannin along its spine. Lacking in real depth and layering, and rather pricey at SGD220 for what is, after all, an unclassified growth but it went well with the 1.6 kg of cote de boeuf.
2004 Col D’Orcia Brunello di Montalcino
With a heavy thud, followed immediately by the sickening sound of splintering glass, I stared in utter disbelief as my bottle of 1994 Ch L’Evangile, meant for Valentine dinner at Gattopardo this evening, lay bleeding profusely at the entrance of Hotel Fort Canning, Singapore. 
It’d dropped from the car the moment I’d opened the car door, just as the valet was about to takeover the wheel. It was terminal. I tried to laugh it off nonchalantly, but I knew one of the stars of 1994 had been extinguished, prematurely.
The only option was to purchase a bottle from the restaurant list, which comprised entirely of Italian wines (no Bordeaux, no Burgundy). After some perusal, and making sure that I’d impressed upon the sommelier that SGD400 for a bottle of Guado al Tasso was simply outrageous, I settled for a 2004 Col D’Orcia Brunello di Montalcino for SGD160. Decanted on-site, displaying a lovely ruby glow that could easily pass off as a pinot noir, just a shade heavier. Quite restrained on the nose initially, the 14% alcohol making itself felt even if it wasn’t assertive. Notes of red fruits became more dominant with time as the alcohol began to dissipate, the bouquet increasingly more perfumed as well whilst a concentrated, balanced mix of red and dark berries lay siege on the palate with a firm grip of reasonable complexity, leading to a mild tannic spine and a lasting minty finish. Rounded, without any jarring edges. It kept developing further with notes of cinnamon and even a hint of smoke, such that I was reluctant to finish the last drop two hours into dinner. Excellent.
Chambolle-Musigny 1er Cru
The Burgundian group gathered on 20 January 2011, once again at Jade Palace upon the occasion of another of YW’s visits back home. KG masterminded yet another lofty theme, the premier cru of Chambolle-Musigny which number 24 in total.
I arrived late to find that the group was already almost done with a bottle of 2002 Dom Perignon (courtesy of KG). Light-golden and rather reticent on the nose. Yet its illustrious pedigree is unmistakable, for in spite of its brazen minerality, this full-bodied wine was remarkably well-balanced, the alcohol, acidity and wood perfectly offset by the ripe fruit. Tightly coiled, of course, but the sense of depth was already quite apparent. Excellent now, but will be great in 2031.
The first red was a 2005 Domaine Faiveley Chambolle-Musigny “Les Fuees” 1er Cru (courtesy of Yap Seng), decanted on-site. Deep ruby. Restrained and tight, consistent with its youth, with a petroleum note on the nose that was quite alluring. However, it is not as rich on the palate as suggested by its color, medium-bodied with dscernible new oak but well-balanced and silky smooth without any harsh edges, thinning out towards the finish initially. 
It began opening up after some time with a deeper vein of red fruits. It’s good to see Faiveley on form in this great vintage.
Next was a pair of Robert Groffier Pere et Fils Chambolle-Musigny 1er Cru, drunk side-by-side. The 2004 “Les Haut Doix” (courtesy of See Lim), displaying a classic pinot tint, exuded a powerful bouquet that was highly perfumed, rather feminine. Very lovely. Rich on the palate, containing substantial fullness in the mid-body with excellent definition and delineation, tapering to a gentle finish. Quite complete. Excellent as that was, the 2004 “Les Amoureuses” (courtesy of KG) – from the same producer – was darker in color and appreciably superior by a significant margin, being much more layered, imbued with wonderful purity and an enticing richness in the middle, superbly balanced, displaying great definition and linearity all the way to its lively finish. There’s a bit of an orange peel note amidst all the complexity, contributing to the wonderful spine of lasting flavours. Has the layering that’s missing from the Haut Doix. Very, very lovely. Definitely belonging to the Grand Cru class.
The 2002 Serafin Pere et Fils Chambolle-Musigny “Les Baudes” 1er Cru that followed was just as deep in color, but the similarity ended there. This was a huge wine, absolutely full-bodied and dense, rich in red fruits with a dash of spice. Still very primal. Unfortunately, there’s a good deal of extraction going on, which was a pity as the glorious fruit that’s evident from such a stellar vintage would have benefitted infinitely from more delicate handling. In that sense, it was disappointing. It opened up a little with time, but this isn’t ready at all. Will it ever? In contrast, the final wine, a 1999 George Roumier Chambolle-Musigny “Les Cras” 1er Cru (courtesy of JJ), managed to avoid the excesses of an outstanding vintage. Rather dark in color and dense, but it managed to maintain a good balance with the purity of the fruit coming through. The finish was somewhat short, but it was a wine worthy of rounding up the excellent evening. My sincere thanks to all for their kind generosity.
Mouton Rothschild: 1983, ’86, ’87, ’95 & ’99
Looking through my diary, I discovered that the ultra-snob wine circle – Bacchus – had met only once in 2010 (see Final Blowout at Iggy’s, Aug 2010), which was all too infrequent. To make amends, we wasted no time organising a dinner that took place on 19 January 2011, paired with a First Growth theme, a vertical of Ch Mouton Rothschild, no less. For some reason, people tend to avoid this l’enfant terrible when pulling out Firsts from their cellars, probably because of its lack of consistency, and so we thought this would be a great theme. The location was Novus, an impressive establishment located right within the National Museum serving modern European cuisine (but none of that molecular crap, thank goodness), helmed by a chef who had previously worked at Fat Duck, London. 
We arrived to find that we had the entire restaurant to ourselves, the table already laden with glasses, each polished to high gleam and labeled. Truly impressive. We’d all declared what we’re bringing – for sure there’d be a 1983 (courtesy of Vic), 1986 (LF), 1987 (Hiok), 1995 (Kieron) and 1999 – but, nevertheless, the wines were served blind, the order left to the maitre’d to organise. The 1987 and 1999 were double-decanted in advance and aired again in decanter on site, while the rest were decanted only at the restaurant.
As usual, we began with a white, a 1996 Louis Latour Chevalier-Montrachet Grand Cru (courtesy of Danny). Dull golden. Too cold initially, but its bouquet was most alluring with notes of peaches and tropical fruits which opened up further to reveal dense oily aromas of apricot, almost honeyed, very lovely. However, to my surprise, there was a major de-sync between bouquet and palate, which was lighter in texture but steely and stern, almost bitter, layered with mild grassy overtones that’s a signature of Louis Latour. So, extremely lovely on the nose, but I can’t quite say the same for the palate.
We dived straight into Red#1, dusty dark red with some browning towards the rim. There was a prominent barnyard aroma that blew off to reveal a most lovely bouquet of cassis and dried herbs, rather deep. On the palate, the wine was medium-bodied, very homogenous and seamless with lots of finesse and elegance, with a finish of sweet meats. Clearly a well-aged wine but the fruit is still holding on. Far from being on its last legs. One is struck by its impeccable balance. Judging by its color, I thought this was likely to be the 1983.
Red #2 that followed was darker in color but compared to the first red, this was very muted on the nose, highly reticent, and whatever that came through had a suggestion of dryness, although some sweetness was detectable. The wine was similarly unsmiling on the palate, medium-bodied and rather stern, almost austere. The fruit was definitely drying out, leaving behind mainly a framework of alcohol and tannin. It managed to put on some weight, but was still lacking in density, eventually beginning to fade as dinner ended. Must be the 1987, surely, a forgotten vintage that has almost disappeared from the face of the earth.
Red #3 seemed to be a younger wine, judging from its deeper, more luxuriant ruby red. Some thought it lost out to the first red on the nose, but as dinner wore on, this wine simply kept developing in character and complexity, so much so that by the end of dinner, this was one of only two wines that merit serious consideration as to the possibility of it being the 1986. I thought it was already quite open from the first pour, still rather primal on the nose, of course, with a high-toned minerality and some early secondary characteristics. Gentle on the entry, revealing excellent depth and concentration, quite opulent and rounded with a lovely fruity glow, taking its time to unfold. Highly cerebral. A wine that’s clearly yet to peak. Can it be the 1986, still so youthful after all these years? Most of us thought so.
Red #4 displayed a very impressive red, obviously still rather young but it was, surprisingly, less open on the nose. Fairly big on the palate, hitting the right cabernet notes of tobacco, smoke, herbs and mushrooms with a touch of spice, fairly long, yet to develop its secondary nuances. But coming after the preceding red, this was clearly less opulent and lacking in charm. Ultimately underwhelming. Put simply, it doesn’t taste like a First Growth. We deduced that this must be the 1999, a watered-down vintage.
Finally, Red #5 which had the deepest red of all. Unassuming at first, like a nondescript bystander, but it went quietly from strength to strength, taking its time to develop, such that it was some time before we realised we were drinking something great. This had power, great stuffing and superb integration in spite of it being seemingly very youthful and backward. It became massive by the end of dinner but one senses there’s still plenty of unrealised potential. 
Tightly coiled, yet to unfurl its full colors. Could it be the 1986? However, judging by its color, most of us felt it more likely to be the 1995.
Actually…the order drunk was: 1987, 1983, 1999, 1995 and 1986. How did we end up being so screwed up??!! It’s like being privy to a set of leaked exam questions, and yet still writing the wrong answers! The 1987 and the 1995 defy all expectations, at polar extremes. The same could be said about the 1999, almost rivaling the 1986. Could it be because of double-decanting that the 1987 and the 1999, both dark horses, surpassed all expectations? But we were tuly at a loss to explain the disappointing 1995…an off bottle? Or still shut down? It certainly merits re-consideration. And about the 1986…one of the reasons I had difficulty identifying it was because all the while, I was recalling the tasting experience I had three years back (where there was plenty of layering) but I didn’t seem to find it at this present tasting. By the time it began to develop, I was open to too many doubts and re-doubts about the whole lineup. I guess the lessons learnt are: i) possessing prior knowledge, or being open to the power of suggestion, really tips the bias and affects one’s judgment, for the worse; ii) Mouton is truly inconsistent.
Thanks again to all for this great experience but next time, we need to do a theme that’s friendlier to the wallet, but we’ll be back at Novus, for sure.
1998 Krug
Aired briefly in bottle for about 30 minutes before being served at Golden Peony, Conrad International Singapore, this evening on the occasion of Mom’s 80th birthday and drunk over the next two-and-a-half hours. Clear golden. The initial whiff only yielded some toasty oak and roasted almonds that was met on the palate by a high-toned crystalline minerality from the medium to full-bodied wine. Gradually, as it sat in the glass, further notes of white flowers, walnuts and malt crept in, developing more depth at the same time, the fizz settling down onto a more even spread, allowing one to appreciate the fine balance between the lively acidity, alcohol and fruit, the yeasty hallmark of Krug making an appearance as well. 1998 is the last vintage of that decade for Krug (after 1990, 1995 & 1996) and I must say the 1998 doesn’t lose much ground at all next to the 1996. This has the trappings of a generous wine that’s still obviously very youthful. I shall leave my remaining bottles alone to flesh out over this decade whilst accumulating more. At SGD288 (airport duty-free), it’s almost a steal.
Ric's Wine Journal 