From magnum. Initially quite linear and more of an aperitif with bright citrus and apple notes with lovely acidity. After 90 minutes however, this became a much more gastronomic champagne with pineapple and powerful autolytic notes of toasted brioche and almonds. It was awesome and a reserved my last pour to sip on until the very end. From the bottle inscription, this looked to be disgorged 6/11/2019

I suppose there is no better place to start than with a fresh example of the wine that changed the game forever. This remains a very classic example of Napa Chardonnay in the most complimentary of ways. Ample fruit that lean on the more tropical (pineapple) side but falls short of being squishy. Lemon and lime citrus too. The oak is prominent for sure but it’s not a buttery mess. There’s good acid that gives plenty of lift and it finishes long. A very balanced wine that will probably benefit from 5+ years in the cellar.

Served alongside the 2019 Montelena. The 2020 Leflaive “Bourgogne” is obviously youthful but already showing its quality. It plays very well with the Montelena but pulls from the greatness of Puligny-Montrachet and brings a certain “je ne sais quoi” that cannot be denied. There’s more complexity and acid than the Montelena but fruit is clearly more on the citrus side of the spectrum and there’s a lovely mineral aspect as well. Only 10% new oak used and it shows…as it’s almost imperceptible relative to the Montelena. Not exactly what I would call a value Bourgogne Blanc…but when you consider that it’s not your typical Bourgogne Blanc due to the source material, I can understand the tariff. It drinks pretty special IMO. Drink now and over the next 10 years.

Not the producer it once was however it was fun to throw this into the mix, considering the history. An outlier compared to the other whites in the line-up tonight, this had an enormous floral bouquet that made it almost unrecognizable as Chardonnay. The fruit set was there but the acid was lower and had this been served blind to me, I probably would have guessed a Northern Rhône white variety. Not a bad wine per se, however it was my least favorite of the night. Drink now.

In a night of many firsts, this was my first time trying Clos des Mouches which is a remarkable monopole that was assembled by Drouhin back in the early part of last century. Famously, Beaune has no Grand Cru vineyards but if there was every going to be one, Clos des Mouches would probably be the vineyard. And if this 2019 is an indicator of the standard of quality, it’s no wonder why.

This was gorgeous; a wine of pedigree. It seemed to have layers of depth and concentration that certainly gave off GC vibes. The purity of the fruit is sublime and the acid is brilliant, combining to create a wine of impeccable balance. Many, including myself, tend to poopoo large producer/négociants but it’s really unfair to make blanket judgements, particularly when you consider that they often own or control some of Burgundy’s most important sites. It is clear that great care goes into this wine. It’s special. Drink now and over the next 15+ years.

A wow wine and divinely paired with diver scallops prepared with huitlacoche, mole, lion’s mane mushrooms, crispy potato and tamatillo salsa.

An “intermezzo” as we prepared for the reds flights. This was served blind. The 1978 shows really young for its age. Most at the table, including myself, were convinced that this was classified growth Bordeaux with maybe 20-30 years of age. However at least one of us thought it was Napa…and whoa. The color was dark and handsome though there was some sediment (to expected). The fruit was bright but I felt it was secondary to the dried leaf tobacco, earth and leather notes. There was good acid too. Tannins have integrated. Lots of wows when this was revealed while the Napa holdouts gave a smile. Bravo. This could easily live well for another 10 or so years.

From Magnum. Served blind alongside what was later to be revealed as the 1970 Mayacamas. This was universally determined to be from Bordeaux. But what wine and which vintage? The other wine served alongside seemed almost androgynous, relatively speaking, and at least one at the table was absolutely convinced that wine was the 1970 Mayacamas. And if that was this case, then this must be the 1970 Montrose…a wine which nearly epitomizes masculinity in Bordeaux.

A little later in the evening, this was a fun side by side with the 2000 Montrose which was served in a separate blind pairing. Truthfully, they seemed to be at a point where age was only a number. Both were unashamedly masculine with dark fruit, tobacco, and earth with ferrous minerals. Finish was long with great acid. For me, only notable difference between the two was the integration of tannin for which the 2000 was still holding fast. To be honest, both of these wines seem everlasting. The structure is that of Helms Deep and yet, there is juuuuuuust enough balance of fruit to make it worth the wait. That being said, you gotta be patient and/or have generational plans for your cellar. For both, drink now until…2070+?

Served blind alongside what was later to be revealed as the 1970 Montrose. Our humble table was universally convinced the other wine was from Bordeaux and there was at least one that was adamant this was the legendary 1970 Mayacamas. What wasn’t up for debate was the nose, which was absolutely stunning. A melange of ripe, dried and desiccated dark and red fruits with dried flowers, leather, sweet tobacco and the prettiest baking spices your nose ever smelled on a Cabernet from California. It was almost Burgundian relative to the Montrose. This is a vinous wine with acid keeping it spry. And while it is likely to give “Ohhs and Ahhs” for years to come, it is so gorgeous right now that I wouldn’t hesitate to pull the cork and taste one of the most important wines in history while it still has its potency. This will be one of those wines that haunt me for years to come and I’m ever so grateful to have enjoyed it. A sublime pairing with Iberico de Bellota pork loin with harissa purée and ramps.

Served blind alongside what would later be revealed as the 2005 Mouton. This wine looked, smelled and tasted like mature wine; in all the best of ways. But was it Bordeaux or Napa? The wine alongside it wasn’t really giving us any clues either. There was friendly debate at the table as we vacillated between the two regions. Ultimately however, we seemed collectively set on this being from Bordeaux with some suspecting Mouton. I lack experience with First Growths in general so I couldn’t really offer much to the discussion other than I liked what was in both glasses and one seemed a lot younger than the other while both being lovely. Lo and behold, this was revealed to be the ‘71 Mouton. At this stage, the fruit is mostly desiccated with dried tobacco, graphite and earth. A charming, old Pauillac. I would drink now but this could hang on for longer because Bordeaux.

Served blind alongside what was eventually revealed to be the 1971 Mouton Rothschild. This almost had me leaning Napa by a classic producer due to the gorgeous fruit and generous, scratch that, lavish use of new French oak. After careful deliberation with those at the table with more experience drinking Mouton both young and old, I was able to come alongside the others that this was indeed young Pauillac. All the cassis, cigar box, tobacco and baking spices ones heart could desire with some of the loveliest acid. Speaking of, the structure still has quite a grasp of this one but with all the lovely fruit, everything is in brilliant balance, even at 18 years young. Given that, I expect this wine to drink well for decades to come, particularly since secondary characteristics have hardly entered the chat. Definitely a wine I hope to enjoy many more times over the years but so grateful I got to try now.

Served blind alongside what was eventually revealed to be a 1997 Freemark Abbey. This was the easiest of the pairings to get our heads collectively around as we felt confident this was Bordeaux and the other was from Napa. Unfortunately, I no longer have my notes for that wine but this was particularly memorable because I had held back a glass of the 1970 Montrose and had a lovely time tasting the two of those wines side-by-side. It was remarkable how much they had in common with one another. In fact, the only real difference between the two was that the 2000 just had more of its structure in tact. Other than that, the Montrose DNA was undeniable with loads of all the darkest, blackest fruits: currants and blackberries with coffee, tobacco, and graphite. At nearly 23 years young, the structure remains positively monumental. Despite all of that, it was ever so winsome. The finish was long with wonderful acid and lovely, ferrous minerals. Drink now with patience and over the next handful of decades.

Served blind alongside what was eventually revealed to be the 2019 Ridge Monte Bello. The 2018 Stag’s Leap Wine Cellars S.L.V. is decidedly young and primary. Soft, ripe black and red fruits with cocoa and spices. It’s fairly lavishly oaked but stops short of being annoying. The finish is long and satisfying. While this drinks very well right now, I think it will become a lot more interesting down the road when secondary characteristics come more into play. Drink now through 2040.

Served blind alongside what was eventually revealed to be the 2018 Stag’s Leap Wine Cellars “SLV”. This was immediately recognizable as Monte Bello with a textbook nose of deftly balanced American oak and a decidedly brighter version of Cabernet Sauvignon. Distinctive and distinguished but woefully young. Unless you have multiples, please hang onto these until at least 2029. I am convinced that Monte Bello is truly an American treasure.

Served double-blind as a sort of epilogue to an already epic night. This was served alongside another red wine that was also presented double-blind. Immediately, I called this Southern Rhone and the other wine, Sangiovese from Toscano (it ended up being a 2012 Biondi Santi Riserva). This presented a bright ruby color in the glass with a transparent core. This wine…had an OMG nose. The kind of aromatics that could end all wars and bring a century of peace to all mankind. It’s both powerful and elegant. Both ripe and fresh. An androgynous wine that represents both masculine and feminine with a grace that would make Prince or David Bowie envious. Gorgeously layered red and dark fruits, exotic spices, licorice and garrigue wrapped in the most beautifully textured package imaginable. It reminded me of something similar to a previous experience; like Fonsalette…but this was different, there was more here. When you taste this, everything becomes clear. You look at everyone at the table differently; for what you have more in common instead of what makes us different. An experience akin to an Odesza show on MDMA. It’s that profound and then you are forever changed. You wake up the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that and weeks go by and your worldview is different. You see love in everything. And then it was revealed to be a 2010 Chateau Rayas. *Insert expletive*. A magnificent wine. An epiphany and, as far as I’m concerned, perfect. This is not merely a great Chateauneuf du Pape. This transcends the appellation. It should be its own AOC. Drink now or whenever you’re reading this note.

Served double-blind as a sort of epilogue to an already epic night. This was served alongside another red wine that was also presented double-blind. Immediately, I called this Sangiovese from Toscano and the other from the Southern Rhone (which was later to be revealed as a 2010 Chateau Rayas). This poured a deeper garnet color with a nearly opaque core. On the nose, it smelled Italian. Tart cherries, black tea, dried herbs, dusty earth and some dried spices too. On the palate, the wine was bone dry and medium+ across the board. This came across very traditional in terms of winemaking which I found very attractive yet, this was holding something back. Almost like it was opened ten years too soon. I thought about a young Pergole Torte…then it was revealed to be a 2012 Biondi-Santi Riserva. Wow…no wonder! A lovely wine with a bright (and long) future ahead of it but I would hold these for later if I had some in my cellar. Best after 2030.

From a half-bottle. This was the pièce de résistance to our evening (although someone apparently opened a Gravner that I somehow missed). Anyway, the thing about d’Yquem is that you don’t have to love Sauternes to fall head over heels for it. This was liquid stars. The sheer density is out of this world. Loaded with tropical fruits, exotic honey, stone fruits and minerals. Gorgeously textured and brilliant acidity to make it all work. A forever finish. I don't know how a wine like this could ever die.