My first G-Max, and as much as I liked it, I lack the contextual experience to vouch that I "get" it. I chose the '13 from the vintages I had on hand based on reviewer's drinking windows and some uncertainty voiced about its longevity. From what I could tell, longevity should be measured in decades here, though. The bottle was decanted for almost three hours and monitored for another six. Initially served at about 50 degrees. Pale yellow color, almost completely translucent. Intense citrus and floral aromatics, with a whiff of petrol thrown in. The wine comes off as youthful, perhaps even primary, but I lack the reference points to gauges this with confidence. Ripe, concentrated citrus, steely mineral and white pepper notes. Some more tropical flavors emerged with time, mainly pineapple. Very firm acid. An incredibly textural wine, so fresh and concentrated. The elements meshed very harmoniously, and the finish was at least two minutes long. So all in all, an incredibly pleasurable wine, singular in my limited experience and highly worthwhile. Having only had it once, and with 2013 being such a tricky vintage, I will leave it to others to help me understand where the G-Max fits in as an iconic, "pinnacle" expression of a grape I am thrilled to continue to learn about. All I know is that the intensity and quality left me awestruck with appreciation for the winemaking intent evidenced by this wine.

My second of six bottles, with fairly consistent notes. This time, I decanted for three hours, but even then the wine needed more air to show its best. Whereas my prior bottle had a mustiness that only blew off after a few hours, the aromatics here were lovely right away, with scents of black tea, forest floor, mushroom and sweet Asian spice. The fruit was relatively subdued but complement the umami-driven elements of the palate to fine effect. Clearly past peak but with lots to offer, and such a fascinating peek at what DRC later saw.

I've only tasted a DRC Montrachet once, a quick splash from a magnum of an unidentified vintage shared by an effusively generous guest at La Festa del Barolo a few years back. I remember being able to taste that wine hours later, and sometimes believe I can still conjure it up on demand, so I was especially eager to pull a cork on one of my own, though just a 750 in this case. The cork protruded a bit, and was caked with a thick, almost plastic-like chunk of solid white mold, but any apprehensions were quickly allayed by the rich, pure and powerful aromas leaping from the bottle. I happily decanted the wine, admiring the deep golden hue, and left it at cellar temp for 4 hours. When we turned to the wine, there was no doubt this was the wine I remembered so well, with a nose displaying intense, concentrated lemon confiture aromas alongside spicy oak and a touch of mint. More of the same on the palate, incredibly fresh and rich, very oak-dominated, with a viscous, glycerined texture and a finish so long I gave up measuring it. A white wine of such heft, depth and intensity, it was almost too much. This was White Burg on Steroids, sheer class but in a way, too much of everything. In hindsight, that first sip some years ago, and its elusive memories, probably would have sufficed, not that I have any regrets. This is a hedonistic joyride, and a memorable one at that.

My first Le Pin, and as a lover of all things Pomerol, this was very eagerly anticipated. Decanted for a few hours though not sure it needed it. The aromatics that nearly brought tears to my eyes (in a good way) when I first open the bottle were there in spades when finally poured: black fruit, spice and graphite in elegant balance. More of the same on the palate, not overly flamboyant, but that doesn't do it justice, as the texture of the wine was what struck me the most: seamless, creamy and concentrated, utterly without edges. Oak was not really in evidence, and the tannins were subtle and soft. From my non-scientific perspective after all of one bottle, Le Pin seems on par with Lafleur, lofty praise though maybe not worth 2-3x the tariff, and a hauntingly beautiful 1982 Lafleur remains safely enshrined as as my favorite from the appellation.