La Tour d’Argent, Paris
On 7th July 2009, I headed down to La Tour d’Argent, at 15 Quai de la Tournelle in the 5th arondissement, for what surely must count as one of the culinary highlights of my life. This had been recommended to me by Kieron, and I discovered that this is an institution in France, as far as grand dining is concerned. The oldest restaurant in Paris, its history dates back to 1582, when it was first established to separate itself from the cheap inns of Paris. King Henry III was one of the first to dine there, where he discovered the usage of the fork. Since then practically every King & Queen or notable person has dined there. The venue is still the same, overlooking the Seine with the Notre-Dame just in the background. Absolutely stunning.
When I arrived at the appointed hour of 1230h, I found the general manager, another staff member and a page boy waiting at the front entrance. The ground floor is basically a museum, decorated in late 18th century décor, the way it was. Photographs and autographs of luminaries who had dined there lined one of the walls. The page boy, who ushered me to the elevator and operated it as well, was dressed in period costume. When I reached the 6th floor, all the wait staff, dressed in coat-tails, greeted me in French. Very formal. I was the first one there, and was ushered to a window seat, overlooking the Notre-Dame. This is the prime seat! Very soon after, the restaurant filled up, and a few Americans came as well but, thankfully, they were not loud. The entire décor in the restaurant was 18th century period European.
I started with some still water, which was poured not into a cup, but a goblet made of pewter, with the restaurant’s coat of arms. It could have passed off as the Holy Grail. Then the waiter served me a trio of amuse bousche, explaining it all in French (he could actually speak English). I didn’t catch a word. They looked like miniature pastries and puffs, but simply melted in the mouth. I ordered the prix-fixe menu, at €65. This must be considered a bargain, considering the equivalent for dinner is €220, before any wine! Their speciality is, of course, the canard (duck), which I enquired. However, the waiter shook his head, saying it’s meant for 2 persons and would be too heavy. Instead, he pointed out a smaller version (canette) which is available on the lunch menu which I took, preferring it to be pink on the inside as recommended, instead of brown. I chose their trademark “Andre Terrail” (a direct descendant of the early owners; died 2006) Pike dumpling as entrée, and a strawberry tart for dessert.
The young Sommelier then came over and planted a huge thick book, the size of two encyclopedias, on my table. This is the famous wine list!! Everything is there, in breadth and depth. Verticals of various chateaux abound, at prices that do not seem too unreasonable. After spending 10-15 minutes browsing through the Bordeaux section, I engaged the Sommelier in some serious discussion, and settled on a glass of white, and a red. The former was a 2007 Domaine Jean-Marc Boillot Bourgogne Aligote (€15). This is an impressive thing: pale yellow, but immediately exuding its class with quality fruit, minerality and acidity imparting a wonderful freshness. 
The wine service was even more impressive. When I enquired about the producer but failed to catch the name, the Sommelier actually had the wine label removed, stuck it onto the restaurant’s card (resembling a greeting card), and presented the whole thing to me in a sealed envelope!
As this is a traditional restaurant, the servings are generous. The entrée consisted of 2 dumplings, made of the softest of textures, with mushroom stuffing, the whole thing being covered in a generous coating, the ingredients of which slipped me, but I’m sure egg, custard, cheese and butter played significant roles. Superb. The canette was even more impressive: a big slice, laid on a base of green-colored sauce. The presentation was so perfect that I didn’t touch it for 10 minutes. Since 1890, the restaurant has been serving duck, done its way, amongst other things. Each duck that’s slaughtered since 1890 is numbered, and a certificate is issued to the diner. Halfway through mine, the mâitre’d came over and planted a postcard-sized certificate on the table, indicating that I was eating the 1079824th duck in the restaurant’s history.
It went perfectly well with the half bottle of 1988 Château Pichon Longueville Comtesse de Lalande (€165). I had initially considered having either the 1988 Ch Trotanoy or the 1989 Ch Pichon Baron, but the Sommelier suggested the Comtesse instead, and he was absolutely spot on. The wine was fully matured, displaying an evolved red that was bordering on vermillion. The nose was unmistakably that of a top-flight aged Bordeaux, the wood and tannins having receded far away, leaving the glorious fruit to shine, revealing all its complex tertiary flavours in full cry. Medium-full, structured but softened by time, perfectly balanced and elegant, ending on a sweet glycerin note that lasted and lasted. Unbelievable, coming from a half bottle. Who needs First Growths when you have this? The Sommelier seemed impressed with my wine experience and, as lunch wore on, we got along very well, talking at length about wine and Bordeaux. I asked to visit their renowned cellar, but was told it’s under renovation.
And so I munched there, taking my own sweet time to appreciate the food, the view, the superb service (perfect on this occasion even though various internet discussion groups have suggested that it can be highly variable), and snapping away on my camera. The whole experience was almost surreal. This restaurant lost a Michelin star in 2007 following the demise of Andre Terrail, becoming a one-star restaurant. But based on my experience, I’m rooting for it to regain its former glory. It can, and should, achieve that through its history, uniqueness, and uncompromising quality.
The strawberry tart was just nice, and the petit-fours and superb café rounded off a most remarkable lunch. When the bill came, it didn’t seem too bad. On the other hand, it was a lot of money, no doubt about that. Was it worth it? Well, there are many mindless ways to blow away good money. But on this occasion, at least, I knew it was spent on a most memorable and, perhaps, once-in-a-lifetime experience.
Paris: L’Entrecote & Bistrot du Sommelier
Never turn down any offer of a trip to Paris, which was what I did after receiving an email some months ago from the organisers of the XIX World Congress of Gerontology & Geriatrics. Who says I don’t practise Geriatric Medicine? I made sure my abstract submission was successful, and made my way there.
Although this is my third trip to Paris in 6 years, one never gets tired of the famous sights. While walking along the Champs-Elysees, I spotted the familiar L’Entrecote restaurant. I’d come to know L’Entrecote after my trip to Bordeaux last year. It’s basically a sit-down meal of steak done fast food style, and very successful too. They don’t accept reservations. Just queue up, sit down, specify your steak (cut in small thin slices immersed in mustard sauce) in what manner to be done (they don’t serve any other food), your choice of a generic Bordeaux, either rouge, blanc or rose (in either glass/half/full bottle) and you’re done. However, the L’Entrecote here in Paris is obviously a franchise, and less attractive. You don’t see any crowd (not a good sign), the distinctive yellow decor is missing, and the menu is more expensive, almost twice than the one at Bordeaux. The same set menu of walnut salad + steak/fries + half bottle 2007 Kressman Bordeaux red (which doesn’t warrant any blog space) + Vittel bottled water + ice cream came up to 43 Euro per head, while I remembered paying only 55 Euro for 2 persons in Bordeaux. And here, they don’t top up your steak and fries! Not a good deal. Even the franchise outlet in Barcelona is more true to style, and less expensive.
The next day, I found my way to Bistrot du Sommelier, reputedly one of the best dining venues in Paris, located along 97 Boulevard Hausmann in the 8th arondissement. After emerging from the nearest metro, I made my way but after 1 traffic junction, it didn’t seem right. I asked for directions from a Frenchman in my broken French (“excuse-moi, direction Bd Hausmann, sil-vous plait?“), who replied me back in anglais. They’re friendly. I had gone the opposite direction. Soon after, I located the Bistrot, a small red diner jutting out into the pavement. To my horror, I noted that all the waiting staff wore suits! The maitre’d looked like that gay chap from Runway Project. He was standing behind the glass door that was shut. Initially I thought perhaps I was early, but when I read the menu that was stuck outside, I managed to make out that they open at 1200h, and it was already 1230h. So I unslung my bag and approached the door. The maitre’d looked unbelievingly at this chinois fella in a yellow polo-T, but he opened the door nonetheless. I introduced myself in a few words of French, that I have a reservation, and he showed me to the table. The service was efficient and fuss-free, but all the wait staff carried about them an air of aloofness typical of the Parisiens.
The menu was simple, each set of entree or plat or dessert having just 3-4 choices. The lunch wine list was also fairly simple, mostly Vin de Pays, with 2003 Ch Cantermerle and 2003 Ch Lafon Rochet being the most recognisable, each wine being available in either verre/carafe/demi or bouteille. At 32 Euro and 30 Euro respectively (carafe), those 2 Bordeaux grand cru classe didn’t seem attractive. So instead, I chose the prix-fixee dejeuner (3-course, 39 Euro), starting with foie gras terrine, followed by fish, and then biscuit moelleux, which turned out to be a tart, washing all down with a carafe of 2007 Domaine Les Heritiers du Comte Lafon Macon (16 Euro). The food was excellent, although the fish wasn’t particularly outstanding. Perhaps I should have opted for the beef, but with the prospect of lunch at La Tour d’Argent looming the next day, I think I made the right choice of not going too heavy. The wine, which is available in Singapore for SGD50-60 per bottle, is actually very good: clear light yellow, lifted aromas of citrus and lime, more than adequate stuffing with good body, acidity, and minerality. Not particularly complex, but it expands a little in the glass. Perfect for a light lunch. In fact, I got a little light-headed, such that I didn’t realise the staff had short-changed me by 10 Euro for the 100 Euro bill I had given them. It clearly wasn’t intentional, for moments after I had pocketed my change (without realising the error), the waiter handed me another lot of change, with the correct amount! Being the honest Singaporean, I handed back the second change, assuming they’d made a mistake. The maitre’d checked his accounts, then said the money’s mine! Something wasn’t connecting in my head, as I insisted that I’d received my change, and I left the restaurant, with the staff thanking me quite effusively. I realised my mistake the moment I stepped out into the sun. Heck! I decided to forget about it. That’ll teach me not to be so bloody cock-sure.
Ward 48 dinner at Ming Kee
Time flies, and, once again, we settled down to another one of the famous ward 48 dinners for the HOs and MOs. We returned to Ming Kee, which is an absolute gem located along MacPherson Rd. Where else can one locate a air-conditioned Chinese restaurant, with polite and attentive uniformed staff, that serves superb dishes at prices that are most reasonable (if you feel that SGD671 for a full-course dinner for two tables, including a gigantic crab each, is expensive, you don’t belong to this planet) without any service charge, GST, nor corkage for unlimited usage of tall Mikasa glasses?? The Prime Minister obviously knew better, for a framed photograph of him and the restaurant’s chefs lined the wall at the entrance. Ang Mohs are known to frequent this place with cartons of wine. I strongly suggest you look up this place before the owners wise up. Advance bookings are essential.
The senior staff table began the evening’s proceedings with a pair of Aussie whites: 2007 Moss Wood chardonnay and 2004 Leeuwin Estate Art Series chardonnay. Both hail from the Margaret River wine region, and both were pale lemon yellow in color, with initial notes of citrus, lime, and minerals (more with the Leeuwin). The Moss Wood seemed to lack sufficent depth and body initially, compared with the Leeuwin, which was immediately fuller, showing great balance between fruit and acidity. But with time, the Moss Wood opened up, gaining in weight and intensity, with lifted creamy, floral notes tinged with honey. In fact, over time, both these wines became very similar on the nose, with the Moss Wood eventually edging ahead, slightly, on the palate. However, both fell way short off the mark in comparison to the previous night’s Giaconda and Talbott (see below).
We paired the meat dishes with two Bordeaux reds and two Aussie reds. The 1999 Grand Puy Lacoste, already brownish-red, threw off a strong sweet note of glycerin. However, the wine came across as lacking in quality fruit and rather four-square, with the wood and alcohol being quite evident. Disjointed. Somewhat symptomatic of the vintage, although I remembered a bottle 2 years ago at KP’s place showed much better. The 2000 Grand Mayne, much darker red in color, also smelt of sweet glycerin. This wine, on the other hand, was huge, dense and monolithic. Yet to develop secondary flavours. This will last many more years, although I’m afraid it’s not my preference – just too extracted, a wine that tries too hard.
The pair of Aussies actually fared better. The 2003 D’Arenberg Dead Arm, impenetrable red in color, gave off unmistakable flavours of aged shiraz. Still huge, with prominent notes of liquorice, plum, and loads of alcohol (much heavier than my previous bottle with the Mayo endocrinologists in Feb 2009), the whole package coming across as being rather predictable and four-square. I’d say the previous bottle was better. I can’t say I enjoyed it.
The 2001 Cyril Henschke (Kieron) was easily the wine of the night. A blend of cabernet sauvignon, cabernet franc and merlot, it hit the right notes from the start: huge nose of lifted, ripe warm fruit, with a hint of medicinal notes on the finish. Full, mouth-saturating, yet leaves you still wanting for more. Richer and more sophisticated in its handling of wood, alcohol and fruit than the Dead Arm. Excellent stuff, but I think one really needs a robust steak to go with it.
The MOs thoroughly enjoyed themselves, polishing off 4 bottles (2000 D’Arenberg Dead Arm, 1996 Haut-Bages-Liberal, Penfolds Bin 407 (vintage?), as well as a German riesling) and becoming totally disinhibited in the process. They even went further to order another house plonk. This is, by far, the best showing from the HOs and MOs, and I can imagine ourselves returning to Ming Kee regularly.
Private dining at Au Petit Salut
I found myself back again at Au Petit Salut last evening, 24 June 2009, but this time upstairs at their private dining lounge, on the occasion of a colleague’s success (I shan’t elaborate). We had liaised ahead with the chef Karl (who had also handled the private dining affair at Monk’s Hill back in 2006 when I celebrated my promotion), who had prepared a special menu. The private dining lounge was spacious, and immediately exuded a very welcome feel with its sophisticated use of understated colors and furnishing. 
While Karl kept himself busy with a continuous flow of various amuse-bouches, we began with a 2000 Dom Perignon that started the evening off perfectly, the nose already very open, with just the right mix of citrus, minerality, zest and body. Certainly not the sort of heavyweight champagne exemplified by Krug; this had a touch of delicacy that did not intrude into the subsequent whites.
The superb double entree of Hokkaido scallops carpaccio and angel hair pasta (with mud crab and scampi tail) served as the perfect foil for the pair of New World chardonnays that followed: 2005 Talbott Diamond Estate Monterey County (Kieron) and 2002 Giaconda. Both were light-golden in color, with the latter being heavier in tone. However, in terms of flavours and complexity, the Talbott appeared to have the edge, displaying lifted aromas of peach, caramel, and notes of freshly roasted cashews. Amazingly complex, yet showing off its nuances in the most elegant and subtle manner. Fantastic purity, superb balance, not a hint of oak anywhere, ending on an understated note of lychee that lingered almost indefinitely. The Giaconda was similar in some respects – excellent body, creamy, soft, pure, with sophisticated handling of wood, ending on a strong lychee note, but overall, less exuberant than the Talbott. I couldn’t help but noticed a whiff of “yeast” at the beginning, which blew off. Both gained greater complexity and weight in the glass, although the Talbott nose faded slightly over time. One would be hard-pressed to identify these as New World chardonnays in a blind tasting. Absolutely superb, but the Talbott definitely held the edge. I’d venture to say it’s even better than Kistler. Period.
For the main course of Black Angus ribeye, we paired the 1993 & 1995 Tertre Roteboeuf (the latter courtesy of PS). The wines from this St-Emilion estate, attaining almost cult status, may seem rustic in their youth, but this pair had developed beautifully with time. 1993 may have been a wet year, but the hallmark of a great chateau is its ability to make good wines even in weak vintages, as this 1993 can attest to: bright red, aromas of mature red and dark fruits, good body, soft, just lacking the richness and intensity one would find in an excellent vintage, as exemplified by the 1995, which was darker, throwing off a bouquet that was immediately biger and layered with luxuriant dark fruits, chocolate and coffee. Full-bodied, mouth-filling, wonderful depth, ending with fine sophisticated tannins and a savoury finish. I was glad to have the opportunity to taste these two.
We ended the evening with the 1996 Leoville Poyferre (Kieron) to go with the delectable selection of cheese. You cannot mistake the powerful, penetrating nose – laden with graphite, tobacco, cigar, and so-called notes of lead pencil shavings in great abundance – as anything apart from classic St Julien. You would not even have mistaken it for a Pauillac. Absolutely intense and huge, ending on a savoury note. Clearly has plenty of legs left. I’d leave it – as a matter of fact, any 1996 – alone for another 10 years, at least. Superb.
This had been a superb evening of wining and dining, and I’m infinitely grateful to the host for his kind generosity. The only letdown was the coffee, which led to some dyspepsia overnight, but that was, nonetheless, worth the evening’s experience!
1994: Chateaux Clinet, Cos D’Estournel
This month of June, being our anniversary month, will see a series of wines from 1994 being drunk at various dinners. As this Tuesday of 2 June 2009 was just too good to waste away, I returned to Otto with the missus in tow. Paolo, who still remembered the previous week’s Masseto, settled us in. We opted for the degustation menu, comprising Hokkaido scallop carpaccio, asparagus with truffles and egg, prawn pasta, tenderloin beef and warm chocolate cake, to go along with a 1994 Chateau Clinet. 
This wine was noticeably darker compared with a previous bottle I had last year at Kome, almost dark brown with a bit of lightening at the rim. There was quite a bit of bottle stink initially, which took a good 45 minutes to blow off. The nose was unmistakably characteristic of an aged Bordeaux, with mellow red fruit characters that followed through on the palate with a trace of sweetness. The wine was still cloaked within some tough tannins, but this melted away in the glass, eventually becoming quite harmonious with the predominant merlot fruit coming to the fore. Medium-bodied, moderate finish. This bottle is much tighter than my previous one. Can be kept for another few more years but the fruit is beginning to dry out, and based on the 2 differing samples I’ve had, I suspect there may be quite a bit of bottle variation. I suppose it’s not Clinet on top form, but at current prices (I noticed the prices of Clinet in recent vintages have dropped), it’s worth exploring.
On June 11th, we celebrated our 15th anniversary at Au Petit Salut. I must say the food quality is excellent at reasonable prices for this level of dining, but service quality, although improved, lacks the kind of personalised touch that epitomises Les Amis and Iggy’s; even the folks at Otto do a better job. I brought along the 1994 Cos D’Estournel, which is the second time I’m having this wine. It exhibited an evolved reddish-purple, tapering away at the rim. The nose revealed notes of cherries with an underlying layer of darker fruits that carried onto the palate. Medium-bodied, soft, good depth, finishes with a touch of cigar and tobacco note. Unlike most 1994 Left Bank cabernet that is drying out, the fruit quality of the Cos is still excellent, just lacking the final coat of power and finesse one would find in an outstanding vintage. My records showed I paid SGD143 for this, which I feel is worth every cent.
Ed’s do
What does one do when a dear friend and colleague – an Englishman, no less – has endeared himself so much to his Singaporean friends and embraced local culture and way of life so whole-heartedly that he has decided to settle down with a Singaporean girl? You buy him a nice dinner, of course, with a stellar line-up of wines to match the food and company, which was exactly what took place this evening, 25 May 2009, at Otto. It turned out the chef was formerly from Pontini’s, who still remembered Fatty, much to our annoyance. Paolo arranged a customised menu for us in a private room and we were set. 
We started off with a 2006 Kistler “McCrea” Chardonnay, as promised in one of my previous posts. I discovered that this bottle was originally purchased by a very well-known Mr HY Lee, but stored with Don. We duly toasted our thanks to HY. Clear straw colour, rich buttery nose of citrus, lime and minerals. Excellent depth and oak integration, rounded, layered with notes of vanilla and caramel. Very long. Went especially well with the asparagus with summer truffles.
We proceeded to a pair of Californian reds to go with the Tomino cheese (laid on a piece of toast with ham) and the anelletti pasta stuffed with braised veal cheeks (basically an Italian wanton). 
The 1992 Dominus (Hiok) was outstanding: still deep purplish-red with some lightening at the rim, lively expansive nose leaping out from the glass, smoky, intense, brooding at times. Fully mature but still very much alive and kicking. Beautifully integrated. Tinge of sweetness around the edge. This is showing a lot better than the last time I had it over a year ago at Jade Palace. Could easily have been mistaken for an aged Bordeaux.
Ed brought a 2000 Caymus Special Selection: impenetrable red, intense, powerful nose of sweet berries. Full-bodied, structured, yet supple. Hard to believe this is cabernet sauvignon, given the velvety texture. Long, long finish, without any trace of alcoholic heat or greeness. Still primal, but obviously will age well. Excellent. 
Next we paired two classic Italian reds with the main course of tenderloin beef (perfectly medium-rare) followed by a cheese platter. The 2002 Masseto (me & KP) exhibited a deep dark red, with notes of rich, luxurious 100% single vineyard merlot laced with a tinge of sweetness. Full, velvety, delicious, smooth, powerful yet supremely elegant, with remarkable focus and precision from start to its mouth-puckering finish. Absolutely outstanding. I really don’t understand why the 2002 vintage in Tuscany was considered “weak”, or why this is rated only 88 points by Wine Advocate. I still remember the day when I cleaned off 4 bottles of this from Bottles & Botttles at only SGD280 each. Otto is selling the 2003 and 2004 vintages at SGD2,600 and SGD2,400 respectively. Fantastic.
The 1996 Gaja Sperss (Vic), still deep purple with only a hint of lightening, displayed an expressive nose full of sweetness and fragrance. Plenty of Old World feel, musky, medium-full, poised and elegant, very much like a mature St Julien. Superb.
To round off the evening, Chris obliged us with two half-bottles of 2005 Masi Recioto Amabile, tasting very much like an Amarone without the overbearing power, with just the right balance of sweetness and plenty of rich red fruit. Somehow, I still prefer Old World botrytis semillon for dessert.
This had been a most satisfying evening of fine wining and dining amidst great camaraderie and loads of unprintable good humour. Six wines for six. And with the excellent food and service amounting to only SGD138 per head (for 5 persons; free corkage), we’ll definitely be back at Otto for more of these.
A tasting week
The flurry of tastings continued this past week after barely having recovered from the SMA Dinner. Wine Culture delivered some stuff on Monday, in time for me to try the half-bottle of 2004 Les Carmes Haut Brion over a medium tenderloin steak at Foo House. In case you didn’t know, the latter is one of the best-kept secrets of old Bedok. Where else can you get a thick (really thick), juicy steak (served with choice of either glorious chips, buttered rice, or mash potato) prepared by the ex-sous chef of Hyatt’s Mezza9 for less than SGD20?? And corkage is non-existent. The wine revealed an enticing nose of rich primary fruit, but after having settled down, I realised it’s nowhere near ready – the classic gravelly scorched earth of Graves’ being dominated by a huge tannic backbone. Almost New World. Of all the communes of Bordeaux, I find that the wines of Pessac-Leognan (with, perhaps, the exception of Smith Haut Lafitte) hold truest to the character of each vintage. This one needs more sleep. I’ll withhold judgement.
A friend celebrated his birthday the next day, and we trooped down to Imperial Treasure T3 for lunch. This restaurant has been an instant hit right from the start. The service is prompt, attentive and unobtrusive, the stemware excellent, the food never fails to impress with its imagination and refinement, and best of all, prices are reasonable and it’s corkage-free, always an important criterion in deciding our group’s patronage anywhere. Another point worthy of note is the low mark-ups on the restaurant’s small but excellent wine list, which contains the 2004 Flor de Pingus, a wine that’s available only upon allocation in tiny quantities, at only SGD168. Beautiful clear purple, the (mainly) tempranillo fruit throwing off a nose hinting at a luxuriant, elegant and balanced wine, an impression confirmed on the palate, the only criticism being it lacked a little soul and fullness on the finish. I’m infinitely grateful to the birthday boy for buying us lunch and wine (the customised menu by Shirley certainly wasn’t cheap…I was glad I instructed them to omit the fish). There are plenty of excellent wine choices at SGD168, and I must confess that, if left to my own devices, I’d have gone for a traditional claret.
Our schedules, again, favoured us the next day and we decided to do a quick tour of Carrefour’s wine fair, which is becoming less and less of a bargain (but I grabbed a couple of the superb 2005 Malartic-Lagraviere at only SGD83), before adjourning to Golden Peony at the Conrad Centennial. I’d never tasted dimsum with such clarity of texture and flavour. 
Again, thanks to the generosity of others, I had the benefit of a free lunch, and was glad I brought along the 2002 Tim Adams “Aberfeldy”, the winery’s top shiraz, to share. Clare Valley shiraz is noted for its balance and finely-knit tannins, in contrast to the unctuous quality of the Barossa’s old vines and the rustic charm of McLaren Vale shiraz. However, although this wine started off well, the longer it sat in the glass, the more the alcohol and tannins seem to rise above the fruit. It needs more time in bottle, but I made up my mind that my allegiance to shiraz still lies with Barossa Valley.
All week I’d been looking forward to the Crystal Wines Megasale. I’ve always felt that Crystal tends to price its wines significantly above market value, but they really do cut prices during their mid-year sales, which is when it’s really worth buying. Moreover, Crystal goes one up by offering free tastings across a wide range of wines during the sale. For some time now, I’d been trying to secure some 2005 Chateau La Lagune whenever discounts appear, but without success, the most recent being Grand Vin’s offer at SGD95. So when I saw Crystal offering it at SGD109, I immediately placed an advance order for a half-dozen. But after tasting it at the sale, I’m afraid I don’t quite understand why Parker rated it as the finest La Lagune of all time (95 points), while Neal Martin, whose palate I normally trust more, was also quite enthusiastic (91-93). 
The wine exhibited a fairly deep purple, with notes of ripe cabernet on the nose. However, it failed to live up on the palate, the greeness being all too evident, the fruit lacking in class and richness. A very ordinary Medoc. I was told the wine had been opened for 3 hours. Perhaps it’s going through an awkward phase, but even at a sale price of SGD109 (normal retail price about SGD150), I say it’s poor value. For me, the ultimate QPR for 2005 Bordeaux is Chateau D’Aiguilhe at SGD63, a wine that oozes loads of richness, intensity and weight, yet firmly rooted in the Old World, accessible now, but clearly meant for the long haul. I canceled my order of La Lagune.
Other wines tasted, in brief, were 2006 Kerlann Macon Uchizy (very attractive nose suggesting medium-weight fruit and minerality, but falls short on the palate, lacking depth and weight), 2002 Ch Ducru Beaucaillou (one-dimensional, bland, touch of greeness all over, lacking in quality fruit), 2004 Ch Clinet (medium-full, good balance, agreeable but undistinguished), and 2004 Ch Du Tertre (ripe Left Bank cabernet with classic poise, elegance and balance of Margaux, very good by any standard).
I rounded off a relaxed Saturday with a simple dinner yet again at Imperial Treasure T3: crispy roast chicken, broccoli with crab roe, and sweet/sour pork paired with a half-bottle of 2004 Leoville Poyferre. It was consistent with the sample tasted at last month’s vertical – the unmistakable graphite note of St-Julien, luxuriant ripe fruit with a touch of sweetness, attaining perfect balance after 30 minutes, expanding in weight and intensity, long savoury finish. A wonderful wine…I’ll be looking to buy more.
SMA 50th Anniversary Dinner
Every May for the past few years, I’d receive an invitation from Fatty for the SMA Dinner. I guess it’s his way of asking us not to forget him. Anyway, how can one say no, especially since, from past experience, I’m well aware that the SMA Dinner is one of the major legitimate alcoholic congregations under one roof. It’s also one of the best opportunities to taste a wide variety of excellent wines in one single evening. This year, on 16th May at The Fullerton where the Prime Minister (as guest-of-honour) drank Torres wines (probably arranged by someone keen on committing political suicide), we drank the following……
Kieron started us off with a 2001 Smith Haut Lafitte Blanc. This had a lighter shade of straw, with floral, lime and citrus notes. Somewhat uneven at the beginning, but it soon opened up after a few minutes, gaining weight and complexity and, finally, taking on a creamy note. Quite excellent. Although Graves is known for its limited production of whites, I’d never felt compelled to buy, much preferring to spend on Burgundy whites instead. This may just change my mind.
We moved on to a pair of 2002 Aussie reds: Brokenwood Graveyard (me) and Veritas Hanish (Kieron). The former was deep red with a nose of sweet plums, raisins and cinnamon. Medium-full, somewhat dense and 4-square, refusing to open up, unlike the 2001 which I brought at last year’s dinner. Still a very good wine. The Veritas, on the other hand, shows up the Graveyard’s deficiencies: it was much deeper red, exhibited notes of liquorice, spice and rich dark fruits, full-bodied, with much finer tannins. Gained more weight and intensity after sitting in the glass, yet was never out of control. Unmistakably Barossa, in the most positive manner.
Someone then passed over a 2004 Faiveley Chambolle-Musigny 1er Cru Les Fuees, a medium-full effort which, after the above opening heavyweights, was refreshing for its notes of fresh cherries and raspberries.
Hiok then conveniently pinched a 2002 Pichon Lalande from the neighbouring table. I was eager to try this as I had purchased 2 bottles cheaply from BDXV back in early 2005. It was clear purple, and smelt of blackberries and chocolate. Medium weight, smooth and straightforward but lacking complexity, symptomatic of the vintage. I’d say the 2002 Leoville Poyferre is better. Nevertheless, this was drinking well, but I wouldn’t pay today’s prices for this wine.
Next, Fatty came over with a bottle of 1986 Rauzan-Segla, asking us whether it’s corked. We always knew his olfactory function was never reliable (perhaps due to his persistent digging, or vice-versa) and this confirms it. This aged wine showed some bricking at the rim, but it was well and alive: light-medium, supple, mellow, and delicate. Perfect example of an aged Margaux. Somewhat short, though. Fatty conveniently left his lipaemic-stained wine glass on our table, much to Brenda’s disgust.
The Professor then ambled over to our table, holding a glass of white. He didn’t know what it was, kept saying “Kiss-something”. We pricked our ears. It’s a Kistler Chardonnay (from McCrea vineyard)!! We duly got him to smuggle a glass over: from 2006, clear light-yellow, gorgeous nose of smoke, some excellent oak and pineapple. Lush and rich. Lovely.
The formalities with the PM were almost over but we’d barely started on our own wines. I felt the 1998 Grand Puy Lacoste (me) that followed was still somewhat disjointed: quite a promising nose of fresh dark fruits and cigar, but it came across on the palate as still being rather green without much depth, with noticeable alcoholic trace all over. Rather short as well, although it all came together after about an hour. I’m quite sure some of this negative perception is due to the preceding tasting order (how can one move back after a beautiful aged Bordeaux and a Californian white?). I’d still buy this stuff if it goes on sale below SGD100.
In contrast, the 1996 Grand Puy Lacoste (Hiok-GPP) was, predictably, brilliant and beautiful, already revealing layers of rich flavours, yet still too young to drink. Superb.
We pressed on to the 1995 Cos D’Estournel (Hiok): clear deep purple, low acid (characteristic of that vintage) medium-full, good body, totally harmonious but somewhat short on the finish.
The 1996 Monbousquet (Selina), displaying an evolved color, was lovely, rich, with excellent depth. Entirely consistent with the allure of St Emilion. Long. Showing far better than the last time I had it 3 years ago at Hiok’s Bar.
By now dinner was over, the PM had left, and naturally, all the alcoholics gravitated towards the table with the most bottles: ours (see picture). Fatty proferred a 1982 Leoville Barton, which, surprisingly, was already over the hill, an opinion shared by Kieron. Although fully mature and tasting every bit like an aged Bordeaux, it was short and lacked the power and precision one expects from a 1982 (the Leoville Poyferre example we had last month is testimony to that).
Someone planted a 1996 M Chapoutier La Sizeranne Hermitage on our table: clear red, nose of sweet saccharine mint, but curiously, the palate was dominated by a persistent salty note.
Someone else found a 2005 Armand Rousseau (was it Gevrey-Chambertin?…I was beginning to lose focus) that showed intense notes of cherries and red fruits, yet was beautifully contoured and refined. Hasn’t developed further complexity, but for sure it’s headed for greatness.
A pair of Sauternes rounded off the evening. The 1989 Rieussec had taken on a heavy golden color. Having had this at Saint-Pierre last year, I can’t help but feel that it’s already past its peak: honeyed nectar, almost coying but beginning to lose its acidity and freshness. No wonder Carrefour has been desperately trying to get rid of it at SGD150. In contrast, the 2002 Rieussec, which was light-golden, showed better balance and poise, a real bargain.
Surprisingly, in spite of all the above, I didn’t feel drunk at all (thanks to disciplined tasting), such that I was well aware that someone was passing an unopened bottle of 2006 Kistler “McCrea” Chardonnay (same as above; originally meant for the VIPs) around the table. It came to me and I ensured that it never moved further, dropping it out of sight, oblivious to all except the sharp-eyed Hiok. Rest assured, a full tasting note of that will appear late 25th May.
We were kicked out at 2345h when the weary Fullerton staff had already completed laying the tables for next day’s event. Well, 16 tasting notes in one evening was good fun, but next year, the SMA should hold the dinner back at The Regent, where the stemware is far better than what was offered at The Fullerton.
A memorable lunch
My mobile rang while I was personally administering an injection to somebody. Someone, suddenly, had this brilliant idea of lunching at Les Amis as he wanted to try the efforts of its visiting Vietnamese chef Nam Nguyen (formerly of The Lighthouse at Fullerton) and had the good sense to call me along. Why not? These things don’t happen everyday. We arrived in good time and was led by Timothy himself to a spacious private room on the upper floor. The 4-course menu definitely looked better than the 3-course, but we had time only for 3 courses. A quick decision was made to opt for the former, leaving out the trout.
We began with an amuse-boushe consisting of a single, very fresh oyster dipped in a aperitif that exhibited complex flavours of lime and citrus with notes of apricot that ended in a very long minty finish as the whole preparation, including the oyster, glides down the throat in one single gulp. What a perfect start.
This was followed by the first course of scallops, akami, botan shrimp and raw foie gras topped with a liberal sprinkling of spring truffles. The aroma was to die for. The perfect foil to this simple yet highly imaginative dish was a Chassagne-Montrachet from Domaine Dujac (in our delirium we didn’t catch the vintage…2006?), which was soft, medium-bodied, with just the right blend of fruit and minerality that never once threatened to overwhelm the seafood. 
We opted for a half bottle of 2001 Chateau D’Aiguilhe to go along with the lovely loin lamb (served with caramelised prawn and aubergine with salted fish) that was our main: deep purple, excellent bouquet of red fruits and currant, medium-full, lush, excellent mouthfeel, long. Really excellent, quite a perfect accompaniment. Just shows that you don’t need to break the bank to drink a superb wine.
The dessert (marinated mango plum, roses, peach e’spuma with apricot sorbet), petit fours and coffee that followed ended the meal perfectly. Les Amis can be pricey, but on this occasion, where the service was at its usual efficient best, the food delightfully delicate, and the company excellent, I’d say it’s a bargain.
Just when we thought our famous office “End-of-the-Week” Happy Hour had ceased to exist, more stress (thanks to a never-ending shitload of work) suddenly produced 2 impromptu back-to-back after-hours drinks 2 Mondays in a row. Last Monday at 6, I received a unexpected SMS to appear at Hiok’s Bar, where a bottle of 2001 D’Arenberg Dead Arm stood breathing. How generous. From the impenetrable red arose a powerful bouquet of sweet plums and quietly luxuriant dark fruits. Typically big, but manages to achieve a fine balance between notes of toasty oak, raisins, mint and spice without any alcoholic heat. Very long minty finish. This has evolved beautifully since the last time I tasted it in May 2007, and it’s certainly much better than the 2000 vintage that I had 3 weeks ago. Excellent stuff. Does it deserve 98 points by Parker? I don’t really care; at only SGD62 (when we bought it direct from the distributor in 2003), I’ll buy it anytime.
Exactly a week later, some sort of telepathic trigger must have caused 4 of us to suddenly crave for a drink after a shitty Monday. This sort of divine spark called for a memorable drop: the 1998 Barossa Valley E&E Black Pepper Shiraz, which I’d just brought out from my cellar yesterday. It hit all the right notes immediately after being popped and poured: deep garnet red, barely a hint of bricking in spite of its 11 years, beautiful sweet notes of plum, dark berries, chocolate and American oak (it’s actually oaked in French as well) on the nose and palate, full but supremely elegant, receding tannins and a long cool finish. It gained more weight after an hour, becoming more rounded and harmonious. The quality of the fruit from the old vines is clearly evident, and I feel this is what sets Barossa shiraz apart from McLaren Vale. But one needs time for these stuff to come together. Most people tend to pop them way too early, but I’ve deliberately stashed away my Aussie top drops, to be forgotten for a long time. Some would say that the drinking window for Aussie wines starts at 7 years but, from my experience, I’d say 10 years. This is drinking superbly now, but definitely still has a long life ahead. Who says Aussie shiraz don’t age well?
Ric's Wine Journal 