A great showing, and one where the spiciness and energy are on full display. A lot of things going on here, with a slightly darker profile than I was expecting. The color was like a pale Rosé with shimmering gold highlights, with a textural raciness to match. This Goisses literally pops with a vibrant Pinot Noir piquancy that brings both breadth and excitement to the profile (85% Pinot, by the way – so no surprise there). Chiseled, focused, and all the things you’d want and expect from a young Champagne doing its best to impress you. Black cherry water, ginger, grilled lemon, chalk and granite, elderflower (I stole that from Philipponnant’s specs, but it is right on the money), and faint wood notes all pounce on the palate with suave Lincoln Lawyer determination. It’s not upsettingly powerful the way World War III might be a bit alarming, for example. Instead, this Goisses is just what the doctor (or in this case, me) ordered.

This vintage is partially vinified in wood barrels (47%) with no malo. Aged for 8 years sur lie. 4.2 g/L dosage.

Wine is funny. More specifically, BOTTLES of wine are funny. When I first took a stab at the 2008 Cristal a while back, I found it to be a “very good,” “fine,” “a solid 94” (which is nothing to scoff at of course) type of bubbly. A try or two later, I found bottles to be even more banging with spritely merriment – though not as much as the even better 2013 Cristal. (Here’s where the 2008 Cristal fanboys start to lose it with me). In any event, here we are again with not one, but two bottles of 2008 lovingly placed in front of our group, and I’m back to friend zone mode here.

And just to add insult to injury, since finally getting to writing these notes, I’ve had the 2013 twice again and it is so much more energetic than the 2008. Obviously, you clearly get a sense of my current 2008 vs 2013 biases here (Hint: 2013 is better vintage than 2008 – and let the missiles fly!) Do with that what you may.

In any event, the first bottle of 2008 Cristal was almost dull and without proper polish, and I suspect had some sort of bad day that led up to its eventual assassination. The second bottle was in line with previous experiences, except that it too was a bit toned down. Add to the fact that there was a 2013 Philipponnant Goisses at the table having a field day at the two Cristals’ expenses, the whole thing made for a bit of a ho-hum dealio with the blessed Cristals. Mind you, the second bottle was still in the low-ish 92/3-ish realm, but nothing like the 96 I gave the last bottle I had in April. Maybe it was a root day for the Cristal, and a fruit day for the Goisses, or a leafy lunar eclipse for the Cristal and a flower-power blossom blowout for the Goisses. Whatever excuse fits your fancy, go for it. And, as is not uncommon for my tasting notes, I offer zero comfort and advice on what to do with the thousands of you holding bottles of the ’08 Cristal. I mean, drink ‘em. That’s kinda what they’re for. One thing to note, serve ‘em pretty cold. Too warm and they just get too yeasty for me, ultimately flattening the fruit and killing the excite vibe.

Though I haven’t been thoroughly stoked on a ton of 2006 Champagne as of late, I gotta tell ya that this bottle of Krug was in a really beautiful spot. Oxidative and a little brooding (sure, it’s a Krug!), but with a lovely balance that keeps the darker yellow and bronze notes from becoming too brassy. There is a richness that saturates the palate, but it is strengthened by lovely beams of minerality, acidity, and effervescence that keep this from careening into banana plantation or truffle soup territory. Not all were necessarily contented with this Krug’s performance, citing a little sluggishness here and there throughout the execution, but I was less displeased (look at me, Mr. Positive for once). Sure, it was a little chewy in spots, but the undercarriage was overall quite sound and still held a notable vibrancy.

I would say drink these sooner than later, unless you really like gumming your bubbles 20 years from now…and not because you will be too old without teeth, but because the wine will be too old and without any bite at all by then (my two-cent prediction). This is a denser profile in 2006 but it holds signature Krug flavor and resonance in a way with which no Krug fan should be disappointed.

Spicy, fun, and quite powerful, this LC17 Shaolin monkey was doing some krazy Kungfu kicking on the palate. There too is a saline element here that enlivens the execution of flavor. Raw ginger, grilled lemon, sea salt, olive oil, strawberry and cherry water, subtle bark, and dried apricot flavors all Sporty Spice their ways into the sort of profile that makes for both a full-bodied and powerful opening, but also one of textural diplomacy and sensible execution. A captivating and fun Champagne that offers “grower” idiosyncrasies without sacrificing quality for the sake of trying to be unique.

I think like 40% of this is actually from the 2016 vintage, with 2017 making up the remaining 60%. So, it's a 2017, but.... However, I default to "who cares" in this regard, because it was screaming good.

Muted and linear upon the first pull of the cork, the Montille Folatieres grabs you by the ears with freshness and crisp focus but is reluctant to show the goods on the initial shake-and-wake hour or so of consumption. Once it rubs out the eye boogers and slowly creeps out of bed, notes of citrus zest, limestone, green and yellow apple, and unripe pear stretch their ways into the reluctant expansion of flavor. Sealed with DIAM. So, hold ‘em if ya got ‘em for at least 3-4+ years (maybe even shoot for 5-6+ and take full advantage of the smart closure). It’s not short of exacting freshness, that’s for sure. Super cool bottle of wine. I dig it!

Compared to Montille’s more flamboyant (albeit super unresolved) Perrieres version, this Folatieres is much firmer on first pass. 94++ points. Huge upside in the coming years.

Don’t have a healthy pour of the Montille Perrieres Mearsault handily in front of you at the moment? Well then, light a match, shove the head up your nose, and spin it around until the sulfur is singed square inside your nasal cavity. Then, my friends, you will rightly be in the know when it comes to sticking your face in a glass of the Perrieres. Too much oxygen in your life? Try starving your sniffer with a fat slap of reduction a la this Montille. If there is ever a question as to whether or not the DIAM cork here is working, rest assured there ain’t no O2 squeaking through your bottles anytime soon. This unabashed brimstone baller is no joke on first hit. Put the glass down, talk amongst yourselves as you gnaw on your charcuterie plate for a few hours or thumb through a well-worn copy of War and Peace for a bit, and you’ll find benefit in revisiting this wine about the time the sun begins to set.

To note, the crazy reduction here isn’t volatile at all. It’s just a lot. Like, a lot! But when it simmers down, holy moly, you’re left with a screaming bottle of wine here. Lime zest, citrus spray, chiseled wet limestone, a sack of white flowers hucked across your jaw, and a pile of yellow and green stone fruit darting across the palate. I mean, dude, this is a serious Perrieres. I love it, but if you are looking for some angelic butterfly (first of all, why are you in Meursault?!), then best venture elsewhere. For me, this is a killer bottle of wine. Give it 5+ years and watch it turn into a more resolved megalodon.

Red, powerful, tannic, and dry, with a woody finish that makes for an arid exit. A salty olive brine note adds to the initial feeling of astringency. With air, menthol, gravel, and unripe red cherry notes emerge. The fruit is almost completely collapsed into itself at the moment. The frame is at the forefront and shows little signs of letting up. I thought this might be the Bond St. Eden and was quite surprised to find this Abreu behaving in such a stubborn fashion. This was the least giving wine in the lineup and one that clearly begs for time in bottle. For those holding, continue to do so. You’re in for a long haul. Try again in a decade.

Compared to wine before it in the lineup (which was a red-“fruited” [mostly tannic] Abreu Thorevilos), this was all about black fruit, bitter chocolate, and black minerality. Did I mention black? Though others referenced some red fruit, I really was caught up in the darker fruit. Blackberry seed and pine needle notes come to the party as well, with air turning this goth-monger into a more dance party performer…kind of. The mid-palate stays somewhat superficial however, with the dark profile lending its way to a bit of a sharp finale. As it warms in the glass, it actually get a little funky. I incorrectly guessed Eisele here, though this was behaving like a Colgin at least in the sense that the power and flavor expansion became beefier with air. Like with all of these 2016s, holding is recommended.

On first pass, and during the blind portion of this tasting, this presents as somewhat reduced, with muted fruit; it shows as both rounder and drier on the finish (if that’s possible?). Shy red fruit and an angular execution signal an immediate need for a TON of air. Wood and spice are trying to be nice, but they battle with the fruit straining desperately to fisticuffs its way past the formidable frame. I felt like we caught this wine in the middle of a dream…You know, the one where you just start to fall asleep but then startle yourself awake because you think you are falling off of the bed. Yeah…that.

After the tinfoil is peeled off the label for the great reveal and the wine is given an opportunity to actually breathe real air, the classiness and beauty here begin to unfold. It stays pretty well locked and loaded, but it also kicks out those MacDonald hallmarks of undeniable focus and refinement. Olive and rock notes begin to play with the intensifying fruit, now darker in profile. I guessed this might be the Scarecrow and, of course, was wrong.

It's worth noting that I had another bottle of this 2016 MacDonald a couple of weeks later and it was absolutely singing. Granted, that second bottle had a whole day of double-decanting acrobatics to really get into gear. This first bottle (from the blind tasting) had only been given a few hours of air (my fault), which I fully believe attributed to its stubbornness on the first go-around. Punchline: Hold these 2016 MacDonalds. They will be long-haulers for sure, especially in an epic vintage like 2016. Oh, and also worth noting, interestingly enough, a 2019 MacDonald got popped right after the blind tasting and that 2019 was on fire from the word, “Go!” A phenomenal gushing guzzle monkey in a totally opposite mood from its 3-year-younger sibling. Isn’t it always the younger kid who is constantly tugging at dad’s jacket and wanting all the attention?!

I noticed that when I had this last year, it needed a couple DAYS to finally show me all the goods. So, if opening now, keep that in mind.

This was the first wine in the tasting that seemed less uptight and unyielding. Here, a plushness and savoriness shows. A bit fruity at first, but with a textual seamlessness that seems to indicate a top tier specimen. The overall profile is fairly simple at first, but a healthy injection of O2 pushes out complexity and layered flavoring. Purple and black fruited (possibly the Vice Versa M7? – WRONG again lame-o), this picks up speed and rises to the top level of performance when compared to its peers in the lineup. One of the favorites of the group. With a few hours of open air, this could be opened even now, but wiser minds recommend holding for another 3-4 years. A top wine.

Deep and rich, but with a black fruited and mineral cut that starts out angular but quickly moves into a nice combination of grippy and giving. This is an interesting wine in that it starts out complex and gravitating, but actually moves to shutting down quickly as air permeates through its veins. It was one of my favorites at first, but then flatlines a bit and becomes drying on the finish. The back end screamed Bond, but the front end (especially in the beginning) had me thinking something in the Colgin Tychson arena. When revealed as Bond, it wasn’t a surprise, but I was initially impressed so much by the mid-palate here that I figured we were in a land that was a bit more on the opulent side. Overall, the classy concentration and persistence here is pretty impressive.

Red and black fruit, expressive but tannic on the back end, finishing dry but not without requisite flavor and length. With air, the layering continued, though it was a bit unresolved and slightly blocky at first. Similar to the MacDonald, it was wrapped up like a burrito baby swaddle blanket and never fully came out of its shell. True to form, this being an Eisele has me continuing to believe these are at their best with a decent tick of time under their belts. Try again after 2026 minimum (more like 2030).

An awesome combination of fresh and brooding. I love the interplay of flavors here, with blackberries and purple plums dancing with the black minerality and meaty saline notes. I waffled between thinking this was MacDonald or Futo. The temperature service (a bit cooler than the others) did everything to elevate this wine as well. A dark salami note really added interest on the back end. Extraordinary scaffolding. This and the M7 were tied for my first place holders.

Juicy and rich, with black fruit dominating the profile, the Colgin Tychson was quite the giving specimen. I suspected it might be a Colgin, but went with believing it was the M7 (erroneous as that guess was). Of all the wines, this was the most gushing of the group. With time and air, gorgeous bitter chocolate and earth notes surfaced, completely elevating the execution of flavor and saving it from becoming too round on the edges. A fantastic wine that takes a bit of time to come into form. For now, the opulence plays some tug-o-war with the overall cadence of its delivery.

Black earth, soil, black cherry, blackberry, and a slight vanillin chocolate note, this was the most succulent and deep wine in the lineup. It shows cascading opulence without being overdone. The depth of flavor is striking, as is the distribution of weight across the palate. Rich without being heavy. This was the most ready of all the wines in the group. To no surprise, this was also the sexiest and even a bit chauvinistic when compared to its competition. If you were to consider opening any of these wines in the near future, the M7 would be the best and most party-ready to impress your wine friends in search of a little hedonistic debauchery. Fret not though, this is not in that “too much of a good thing” category. Precision and acidity live here too. A top performance this go-around.

This was not part of the blind tasting of 2016 Napa Cabs, but of course, and you know how these things go, due to the continuing graciousness of our hosts, this 2019 MacDonald found its way into the mix. If you’re looking to relive the experience I had last year on this wine, simply read my tasting notes from June 9, 2022. Otherwise, I’ll save you the trouble and just tell you that this wine is other-worldly. Whereas the 2016 MacDonald was in less of a mood to show its hand, this 2019 was peacocking all over the place from the instant the cork was popped. Cascading with black fruit, earth, and minerality, this phenom was gushing more than Kris Jenner at a Kardashian convention. On and on and on and on with flavor. A perfect wine from the beginning to the end, which lasted about a hot second before the bottle was drained.

You can try to chalk this whole MacDonald thing up to fanboy mentality or scarcity making the heart grow fonder or some cult-mob mentality or whatever ideology you want to when trying to explain or excuse the wines from this house, but there is just absolutely no denying the unique place in history that these wines belong, especially when this kind of showing is anything but rare. The. Best. Wine. Ever.

At the onset, this bottle of Voleuse was like a little Sweetheats candy. “Be Mine. Cutie Pie. Hug Me. XOXO.” I was always partial to, “For Shizzle My Nizzle.” (Maybe that was a different candy – Snoophearts?). Anyway, there was a dollop of raspberry and blackberry liqueur pulsing through the veins of this palpitating puppy. The mid-palate is as deep and the finish is long, but it takes a solid hour or so to dust off the Miami club scene from this otherwise brilliant ghostly goth profile. The first few sips were certainly gourmand, and not without an instant slap of summoning salivation and smorgasbording. When the black earth, rock, anise, and cacao invitees finally showed up to the party, the crowd was instantly more balanced and diverse. In fact, this Voleuse could have used hours upon hours to really find its way into its most fitting form (and I do notice in my previous tasting note that the bottle back in June 2022 had been opened for a whole day before service. So noted!).

And with that, I give you a piece of advice. Hold these for two reasons. One: it’ll be at its best a decade from vintage (Says the fortune teller who always seems to mis-fortune tell). Two: Unless you are the King of Siam or your last name is Geeslin, you probably only have a handful of these Voleuses (Voleusi?) at your disposal. Don’t kill them too early. This wine will reward the patient with Shiva-esque bliss down the road.