Slightly steely on entry, with a cut that rushes straight to the finish. The effervescence doubles this effect, with the white and high-register fruit and rock notes racing along the palate with a snap of fleeting depth. A bracing sensation on the inside of the cheeks leaves a lingering sense of energy and tension. There is a yeasty note that appears eventually to provide some balance its otherwise taut disposition. On the final sips, this “relaxed” into a more lemon-flavored animal, but the pithiness was omnipresent.

Unknown disgorgement date nor base vintage information.

This bottle is a bit more spun-up than the one I had back in July. The lemon pith is more prominent, blocking some of the strawberry and sweet orange peel notes trying to jockey position. This is a spritely little monkey with a serious side, especially on the taut finish. Notable energy and verve outshine any perception of sweet fruit or cloying markers that might stand to slow down the delivery here. The frame and darting tempo speak to a Rosé that could use either a short decant or ideally more time in-bottle. Hold for another 5+ years. 92-94+ points.

Deeply pitched apricot, lemon curd, ripe yellow citrus, marmalade, and honey make for a fairly advanced showing here, though it’s not without the requisite frame to hold it all in place. Finishes on the richer side, with an unctuously chewy candied lemon rind that is fortunately lifted by the casual but persistent bead of bubbles deliberately pulsating through the veins of the otherwise developed profile. A succulent Champagne that manages to pull it all off without seeming to too heavy or opulent. 94-95 points. Drink now.

A Champagne I continue to fall in love with, The Chetillons has so much energy and juicy liveliness, it’s hard not to take the whole glass down in one gulp. Compared to the 2008 sampled a few months ago, this 2014 carries an inviting luxuriant quality gives you an immediate sense of the wonderfully exquisite fruit, then it’s off to the races with spritz and dynamism, slowing down just enough to avoid any stretched rigidity. A lot of pouncing, prancing, and parading on the palate, but pausing long enough to strike a flavor pose before sashaying along the runway. I’m sure more time in bottle will bring additional complexity and sophistication for those looking for a statelier showing, but this is compelling now indeed. 95-96+ points.

I’ve written quite a bit on this wine already, so I’ll keep it simple. It’s one of the best domestic Chardonnays coming out of California. It consistently flies in the 96-99 point range for me. It carries a beautiful Burgundian lift without forgetting its local ancestry. Stays succulent and fresh, not relying on heavy lumber to sweeten the deal unnecessarily. Drink now or hold a few years to add some bass tones and additional layered nuance.

Served in Jeroboam format (I think), or some sort of backbreaking Megaladon Methuselah monstrosity that makes for near-impossible pouring unless you’re some Olympic Power Push Clean and Jerk Squatter type (lift with your knees kids).

Round number two with the Aperta. I wrote a novella on this a couple of weeks ago on Cellar Tracker, so if you’re bored on the couch waiting for your mom to warm up your leftover Mac & Cheese, feel free to indulge on my TN from October 20th. Otherwise, suffice to say it’s a citrus, ginger, and fruit cup type of concoction that, even in its primary stage, is irresistibly arresting in its flavor profile. Air in the glass turns this bouncing Border Collie into a lively phantasmagoria of dreamy orange and yellow rollercoaster fruit. The undercurrent of tangerine and marmalade flavors are most compelling right now to me. Hold a few years to really flesh-out this soon-to-be triple digit kinetic kid. 98+ points.

Ya this is pretty darn good juice right here. There was a 2016 Vice Versa LPV BBS that was thrown into the mix too, so of course my palate preference instantly gravitated to the LPV. That said, there is no question that Vice Versa killed it in 2019 with this here Crane. Showing more on the black fruit spectrum compared to my previous go-arounds with this wine, the dark cassis and melted licorice elements do everything right to fashion an elixir of both fruity lusciousness and broad-shouldered oomph. It’s a chewy mouthful that sticks to the side of your mouth, finishing juicy and mouthwatering. 96-97 points.

The best young wine I’ve had from across the Atlantic and the absolute show-stopper of the night. The concentration, sophistication, and complexity, even at such an infant stage, are so compelling and palate-grabbing that the dark fruit literally arrests every other sense and forces one to be completely enveloped in the Lafleur’s mesmerizing dose of black and blue berries, graphite, charcoal, black ink, fresh soil, bitter chocolate, peony, and molten lava Kīlauea-meets-Netherlands black licorice obsidian notes. At 54% Cabernet Franc and 46% Merlot, it is a tower of power that is effortlessly balanced and focused. The chiseled frame does everything with exacting resolve to fashion the total physique of this wine so that its fruit core and tannic edging become one. It’s juicy and all at once a tight drum that strikes perfectly with every beat of the stick, finishing defined and sustained.

What happens with air you ask? Well, heck my friend, it makes ya even happier than peeling a whole Cuties clementine in one bust of the skin. It’s just so persistent and thrilling, with more gloss than a pro bowler and his favorite oiled-up ball. The mediaeval gravel component is dark and wet, but also uber-polished. The Lafleur is the 1% of the goth crowd who actually turned out cool and managed to jet off to Paris Fashion Week, hit the runway, and then hang out in Morocco for a week just to work on the perfect tan, being mindful not to dull the foot-long tattoo of Jack Skellington on her shoulder.

Between the 2018 Lafleur and the 2018 Bryant (one of the best Napa wines I’ve ever had), the “Quasi-War” between the Frenchie Armée de Camembert and the Yankee Cheddarhead Cowboys was a straight draw. “And YOU get a hundred; and YOU get a hundred….” The Lafleur was slightly chewier than the 2018 Ausone served next to it, with the Ausone finishing considerably drier than its Pomerol competitor. In fact, when a wine crushes the company of Ausone, Abreu, Pomontory, Lokoya, Pavie, etc, etc all in one sitting, it’s time to call K&L and sell your cellar just so you can afford a couple bottles of this magical juice.

To the yacht and island owners, venture capitalists, sultans and princes, financiers, popes, and all the things I will never be, I say to you fine people: Buy the Lafleur. Buy a lot of it. Cram your bathtub full of it and swim in the spoils of the best grape juice on the planet. To a peasant like me, this is a wine that is an experience, not just something to pour down your jughole. If I had another bottle, I’d treat it like the princess it is, nuzzling up to it next to a warm fireplace, reading it poetry all night, playing with its locks of hair into the wee hours as we giggle and reminisce about times begone. (What…? Oh, sorry. It just got weird didn’t it… Anyway…)

100,000 points for now, with potential to reach infinity to the second power after a decade of cellaring, though realistically, I don’t know that you need to wait until your kids get married and then get divorced before tearing into these. Epic wine.

Tiiiiiiight and dryyyyyyy, with crunchy blackberry, black gravelly soil, dark spice, stemmy black cherry, black limestone (like the kind that is underneath a cave waterfall and has that black fungus stuff weaving through its minerally veins), and crushed pencil lead cleaving through the palate with a Stegosaurus spine that instantly clenches and holds, reluctant to release the juicy goods in current favor of power and fortitude. If a young Pavie bred with a chunk of Route 66 near Needles and had an asphalt baby, it would be the Ausone. It is nearly impenetrable. Solid…black…‘80s spikey-wristband metal. Cue Judas Priest “Breaking the Law.” Devil horns baby!

Worry not my Francophile brohams, the Ausone is going to be a staggering wine. Its pride is just wound up all in power and high-octane super charger performance right now. The drive is unreal, as is its focus. If there ever was wine with serious intention and motivation to become a wine of the vintage, it’s the Ausone (though it’ll likely always be in the shadow of the 2018 Lafleur served next to it – stiff competition to be sure). If you’re prone to routine high-risk behavior and think base jumping is a good idea, maybe don’t invest in the Ausone, because it’s going to be quite some time before it decides to retire from cage fighting. Hold for 20 years… and then hold some more. 97-98+ points.

If there ever was a 2018 vintage domestic contender that could go toe-to-toe with the French equivalent that is the 2018 Chateau Lafleur, it would likely be the Bryant. These were the two wines of the night, though believe-you-me, there were a number of wines of the night that were also “perfect” wines (looking at you 2016 MACDONALD – another phenomenal showing). As for the Bryant, it is a heavenly concoction of super dialed-in black berries, earthy black cherry, graphite, burnt embers, stems, black crunchy pebbles, dark spice, and hints of purple flowers. The mineral elements are a perfect carriage for the super seriously black fruit. Everything is in place here, including the youthfully taut finish that still manages to highlight its otherworldly chiseled enterprise and sniper-like focus.

This was a hard wine to put down and nearly impossible to spit. Even among other amazing domestic samples (Abreu, Promontory, Lokoya), the Bryant easily pushed its way through the crowd and had to do nothing more than stand in the spotlight in the middle of the dancefloor and be glorious. This is indeed a serious wine in need of serious time, but it amazes me how dangerously perfect it is executing its flavors even now. Presenting as momentous and determined without being severe is a neat trick to be sure, the Bryant does everything right. Drink now if you burn money for fun, or hold 7+ years to see what further integration does for this cave-dwelling beast. 100 points.

A kickboxing production of red and black fruits, tangling with earthy spice and darker, meatier elements that start to fan out mid-palate, but are stopped short at the finish line by a dusty grip. A more classic interpretation, and one I would have sworn was more Rutherford than Howell Mountain, the red and black cherry and currant notes roll in dry earth throughout the profile, with the tail accentuating the soil notes. It’s only hint at its terroir is the beefier element that starts to unfold but is somewhat immobilized by the mineral and loam notes. A wine that needs time to come together, which was even more apparent when served next to the 2016 Abreu Cappella – a much more expressive wine compared to its Howell Mountain counterpart. As for the Posadas, hide it for another 7-10 years. 95-96 points.

Purity, balance, and grace are matched with gushing power and an unreal expansion of dark and brooding fruit and earth flavors, the Cappella is a captivating wine that shows just how special this house can be. There is a figgy richness here that plays exceptionally well with the chiseled minerality, each making sure the other doesn’t get too far off its respective reservation. Finishes with a boom of chocolate covered roast beef (go ahead and picture that for a minute) and earthy spice box elements. And just when you think the flavor train has reached its final destination, bits of tobacco and rust hitchhike onboard.

The Cappella is a generously complex wine that currently shows as much more polished and accessible than its sibling Posadas served next to it. Still, the Cappella could use some time to align all of its amazing flavors into even more uniformed alignment. Hold another 6-7 years and see what’s cookin’ around ten years from vintage. 97-98+ points.

Locked (and hopefully loaded), the Lokoya Mount Veeder ain’t havin’ any of your monkey business right now. This is a wig-donning, goggle glasses-wearing, dusty couch and moth balls-smelling substitute teacher who wants you to do one thing and one thing only: Sit down and shut up (well, I guess that’s two things, but you get the idea). Strict and serious, this is a do your assignment and don’t ask any questions until your real teacher comes back kind of wine. Dark spice, gritty blackberry, angry as all get-out minerality, and cheek-sucking arid tannins, the Lokoya is more straitlaced than Ward Cleaver incarnate.

June: "Don't you think you're being a bit hard on the Beaver? He's been through a great deal today.”
Ward: "What's the sense of going through a great deal dear, if you don't learn something from it?"

Well, the Lokoya is going to have to learn how to not be such a tempestuous L7, because it’s certainly “going through a great deal” at the moment, desperately needing to air-punch-dance out its rage to some angry anthem Slipknot tune.

In Somm terms, this wine needs at least a decade to integrate and attempt to shed its formidable frame, which is currently shielding the fruit from its full expansion of flavor. 94+ points, with crossing-finger upside once it finishes its court-appointed anger management. Cellar bottles until after Shia LeBeouf stops being crazy.

One would think that following the super strict and serious 2016 Lokoya Mount Veeder would mean that comparatively anything would come off as less rage ridden. Well, the Promontory apparently wants to also be the bully on the block, with a hand to the face pound sand demeanor that has very little interest in being anything but irritated right now. Frame, frame, and more frame, and then some extra straight edging to compliment the… frame. It’s difficult the way a third grader taking a calculus test is difficult, as if speaking a language that I’m failing to decipher in its current state. I mean, it seems to have all the awesome stuffing one might want, but without an ability to access the combination, I find it to be a bit of a conundrum.

To be fair, treatment here was pop-and-pour (I know, I know – gasp at the thought), so full disclosure there. There were some dark earth “flavors” trying desperately to carry a bit of linear fruit to the front, but the slap of tannins and clasping grip do everything to hold the core at bay. For those wanting some sense of direction, here you go: Wait! Mark your calendar for 2035 and see what’s doin’ then. Will it be an amazing wine? Man I hope so, and I suspect likely so (it better be amazing at some point before 2100), but if this bottle is truly indicative of its slow-to-become-remarkable path, then ya’ll best get seat belted in cuz it’s gonna be a long ride. 95-96+ points with hopefully a transformation and multiple point uptick when Napa becomes a floating city.

Somewhat lost in a sea of amazing juice, the Fairchild only suffered from its competition rather than its standalone qualitative virtues. This Pritchard Hill brew begrudgingly gives up crunchy cassis, vanilla alcohol, spice, red and black cherry, and licorice notes that remain primary and linear from start to finish. The expansion of flavor is extremely limited and though seemingly pure and persistent, can’t manage to budge beyond some basic identifiers. Like many of the Napa wines sampled, this is in need of time to literally flesh-out the fruit and reveal its true sense of depth. Hold until 2027+. 94+ points.

If you dig LPV, then it’s hard to do better than the Vice Versa BBS in 2016. It’s got the gravel and rock you’ve come to love; it’s got the fittingly Halloween-ish haunting black fruit; it’s got a witch’s brew of voodoo spices that makes for an enchanting delivery of flavor that hits both the hedonistic and serious wine-geek sides of the brain. It’s one of those wines that kinda makes me feel important when I drink it. I’m not sure whether I should be smiling from ear to ear or if I should just bust out my best sexy-serious “Bond. James Bond,” pose.

This has come along beautifully since nearly four years ago when I last sampled it. Its dark river rock-laced and bitter chocolate-covered blackberry profile is intoxicating and lusciously molten, undulating in the mouth while also sustaining exacting direction. Concludes with the dark cacao note reverberating through the opulent finish. A wine to enjoy now for the potency and power or hold for 5+ years and check in again for more fun. 97-99 points.

Another perfect showing, and one of the top (of many) reds of the night (especially along with the 2018 Lafleur and 2018 Bryant), the 2016 MACDONALD does what any lineage of awesomeness in an awesome vintage would do: Be awesome! It’s been a couple of years since last having this (excluding a flawed bottle we ran into last summer), so it was such a treat to tap this beauty again and see what’s happening. Darker and richer than I would have expected, especially given the lack of extended air and babying that these wines seem to yearn for when they are young. This is 2016 in full glory, while the signature house sophistication and focus reigned in the perfectly disposed core, there was enough relaxing of the edges to allow a gorgeous coating of black berries, cacao, black rocks, coffee grounds, and soft fresh soil notes to unfold in the most deliberate and cultured manner. Finishes impeccably chiseled, with a wonderful balance between succulence and grip-speed.

I’ll still stick with holding bottles for another 5-6+ years, but this bottle was certainly flaunting some racy and erotic attributes that shot it straight into the “perfect for my palate” category. This was an almost completely different animal compared to its one-year older sibling served beside it. The crankier 2015 MACDONALD was less inclined to emulate its younger brother’s flamboyance. 99-100 points for the 2016 MACDONALD. So…Darn…Good…!

Let this dude sit for a while in the corner. If this bottle is any indication as to how much time this 2015 is going to need to fully unveil its greatness, it’ll be a hot minute or three before it’s back and ready to give up the goods. In fairness, this was a pop-and-pour, to which the mere thought probably has the Macdonald brothers gasping. Well, I’ve written a number of times on this wine and all I can say is it seems we’ve entered a shut-down period here folks, which of course means different things to different people. Regarding of the “why” to this, I offer you the solution: Leave it alone and you will be handsomely rewarded.

This is a fascinating contrast to the 2016 MACDONALD served beside it, which is a total glory hound and steals the show from a ton of other great wines around it. The 2015 is still knee-deep into its LSAT and wants to just be left alone to study for the next ten years. The stuffing is all there, but it is locked up like nobody’s business right now.

A surprisingly melodious and softly contoured Wildfoote, maturing gorgeously through its typical brawny mega-power and flexy-Mcflex-a-flex posture and transmuting into a very beautiful, almost pretty and subtle wine. It still carries all the juiciness and chewiness you’d want from this house and this site, but it does so in a way that is certainly more accessible and genial. The booze that sometimes spits from this beast is less pervasive. Seamlessness lives here now, as does a balanced expansion of rounded fruit and brooding earth notes. Finishes indulgently round, ripe, and suave.

It’s been 2.5 years since my last bottle. Having the chance to try this again is a lesson in service and delivery. This, like many other wines at this event, was a straight pop of the cork and a have-at-it kind of observance. The resulting dispensing of flavor was not surprisingly a bit reticent. With some time and air in the glass (which admittedly was not enough), the more red-fruited and linear flavors begin to unfold. There is a sorbet sweetness that takes some coaxing to dissipate, but the more learnt flavors start to educate the palate to more cultured end so that the experience is elevated and expansive than how it initially begins. Red and black berry fruit wrestle a bit here and there along the journey, with some red-purple plum fruit (a Pott hallmark) subtly coming into fold. Finishes soft but still somewhat over-direct for now. Try again in 2025+. 94+ conservative points for now.

A push-pull showing this time around. At once vanilla-chocolatey, ripe, and rich, while also liqueur-heavy and a bit angular, the 2013 Realm To Kalon comes off both blocky and lush in the same sip. It’s been 4.5 years since my last bottle (to which I rated this in the 96-97 point potential range), but it seems that this wine is still finding its way. This shows a lack of focus and direction at the moment, especially when compared to the other super refined and chic wines surrounding it during this showing. Finishes weighty and riiiiiiiich.

This isn’t prickly like many 2013 Napa Cabernets still trying to find their ultimate resolve, but it is certainly not in an especially happy place right now. There are certainly pounds and pounds of dark and ripe flavor here, but once you gum through the Vegas hedonism, its more smartly postured components have yet to show. Aim for 2025+ and see if some time in bottle helps to further smooth-out and integrate-through its gawkier parts. 91-93+? points right now. It is going to take quite the exerted stride to get back to the upper 90-point register numerics I postulated a few years back.

A somewhat polarizing wine among a number of us in the group, with the majority (myself included) not convinced this is on a path worthy of especially high accolade. The black cherry and plum notes come off heavily muddled and overworked. There is seemingly decent texture and a nicely flowing delivery of flavor in terms of exhibiting medium energy and kinda complete follow-through, but the fruit flavors themselves are way over developed. Overall, this was plummy and almost rubbery, with a negatively advanced profile that needs to tighten-up its girdle. At best, this tastes like a base level Napa Cabernet. To me, it almost seems to belong among some of the cheap blasted “Red Wines” from Down Under or some funky $20 Syrah out of Washington.

An old soul, with cedar chest and red currant flavors intertwining with plum, dry dirt, and cigar notes. Finishes extremely dry and dusty. I know I’ll take a little heat here, but I’m simply not catching the super positive vibe of this 2000 Pavie the way others are gushing over it. It tasted like a lesser BDX (3rd/4th Growth type) with some age on it. I found it lacking in concentration and texture, with its breadth and body seeming anemic and emasculated. I wasn’t bent about it necessarily, but I surely wasn’t excited about it. I’d be more bent about it if I was the one who dropped 5+ Benjamins on it (or 400 Quid…).

Ok, I just put my bulletproof vest on. So, feel free to come at me with whatever Rambo explosive-tipped arrows you have. Hopefully someone has something better than, “It was obviously flawed,” “It’s just a style thing,” “Your mongoloid Yankee palate is fat and stupid.”

Initially coming off like a young and powerful Grenache, the Trouver l'Arene spat kirsch, red and black cherry, red and black raspberry, garrigue, and Cosmo cocktail notes that would’ve had me planted squarely in CdP territory before I would’ve guessed Syrah. I had to revisit this a few times before I finally started to pick up on some of the black plum and crunchy blackberry notes more indicative of its exact varietal. I had a difficult time picking up the deeper tonalities due to the booze dominating much of the attack. There is potential here, but it’s going to take quite the journey to push it into anything even remotely resembling “perfect” territory for me.

Revisiting a decade from vintage is the best advice I can give here. For now, it’s in a quite unwieldy posture at the moment. You all know I am an SQN fan and trust that often these wines (with time) can blossom into other-worldly phenoms. For now, sit tight. It looks like it’s gonna be a long haul. 92-93+ points for now. One of the most overtly awkward SQN showings I’ve experienced in some time.

This is my second shot at the NUESTRA SENORA DEL TERCER GEMELO (refer to my recent and lengthier tasting note from 09/20/2021). This bottle is a bit spun up at first, but its concentration and drive become quickly evident with a bit of swirling in the glass. Deep kirsch, dark black cherry, soil, red plum, and spice, the Grenache here is displayed with all its frontal glory, accompanied with a decent pop of power and a sturdy frame to wall-in the pounding core. It’s a biggin, so be prepared to either put on a face shield or hold bottles for another 6-7 years.

If you think Mike Tyson is a doormat sissy, then drink this brute now straight from the bottle while socking holes in your drywall and yelling, “Tora, Tora, Tora!” Otherwise, best to hold on popping these until they settle down and stop muscle spasming flavors in different directions. There’s fun and flavor to be had now of course, so I guess you can gauge your tolerance for it based on how much your daily intake of triple espressos averages on any given Monday.

Suuuuuuper tannic and powerful, with crunchy blackberry and plum skin notes skipping off rock and stems, finishing grippy and slappy. A fairly loud showing, the Colombis is best fitted for the exact environment we were in: A bumping DJ in a wine cave with a bunch of people torquing around in Halloween costumes. Either put on earmuffs and pretend you are gnawing on firecrackers, or better yet, hold bottles for another ten years and hope there is actually fruit somewhere under all of the edgy tannins currently elbowing you in the face.

Port-like and stewed, the 1999 Grange is a much-advanced specimen. Prune, three-day-old coffee, tar, tobacco, Grandma’s vest-sweater, vanilla suntan lotion, and balsamic notes show immediately how ripe and over-developed this bottle is. It’s chewy and viscous, so if you’re into the whole experience of it all because of the pedigree here, then you’ll likely have a decent time of it all. For me, this is well worn at this point. Adjust score accordingly, considering this seems to have kicked freshness to the curb back in 2016. Drink 5 years ago.

At first pass, this is taut and linear, with a bead of cedar-infused red cherry providing medium intensity and leading into a clipped and primary finish. With some coaxing in the glass, it unfolds into a deeper pump of black cherry, dark baking spices, coffee grounds, and bark notes. There is richness here, but it is mostly held at bay by a decent shot of grippy acidity.

What this really needs is either a few more years in the cellar (try 2025), or service that allows more air. It’s chiseled and defined, with a profile that seems to want to become darker than it currently is. A fascinating floral note appears but is fleeting, quickly tampered by the spine. A wine in transition indeed and stands to be a very special wine with more time. 94+ points.

A great vintage and a solid Sauternes. Honey, apricot, lamp oil, quince jelly, and lemon and orange marmalade. The only elements missing for me would be some additional floral or herbaceous notes. This gets extra merits for not coming off too sweet or viscous, staying light on its feet throughout consumption. Drinking beautifully right now out of the bottle.