Tag Archives: Pétrus

2002 Romanée St Vivant, Cathiard

We have a pretty exceptional list here at Renaissance Vintners. Of course we would say that, but who else has a list like ours, with wines all physically in the UK, stored professionally in Octavian, Vinothèque and London City Bond. Our relationships with some of the UK’s most important collectors has blessed us with access to some of the very best wines ever made.

So: here’s the question. What is the best wine on our list, or the rarest? It’s a tough one.

Some obvious candidates would be wines like 2000 Château Pétrus, Pomerol. It’s got the 100 points for a start. And it’s Pétrus, and it’s from the 2000 vintage, one of Bordeaux’s finest, and one that is just beginning to show its class. Late last year we had an experience with 1990 Pétrus which is best described as a theophany. Will the 2000 match it? Another ten years in bottle and we can find out. This is probably the case of wine I’d buy first if one of my silly multiples on the horses comes in.

But in terms of rarity, even 2000 Pétrus isn’t really at the top. 2,500 cases or so made and, whilst no one knows how many of those cases have been drunk, it’s fair to speculate that there is a fair bit left. It’s not difficult to find, just expensive.

We’ve also got a few bottles of 2007 Le Montrachet, Lafon – this is arguably a candidate for one of the finest dry white wines in the world, the other runners and riders being the same wine from DRC, Chevalier-Montrachet Leflaive, Corton-Charlemagne Coche-Dury (this one is probably the rarest) and some might argue that Haut-Brion Blanc should be in the running too.

Lafon’s Montrachet is also rare: the domain’s spot of Le Montrachet amounts to just 0.32 hectares. It is in one whole plot, at the bottom left-hand corner of the vineyard, just next to the plot owned by Romanée-Conti. The vines are old – 80% of the vineyard was planted in 1953, the remaining 20% in 1972, and yields are very low – enough for three or four barrels – depending on the year.

But the wine on our list that is arguably the most intriguing, and quite possibly the rarest, is Sylvain Cathiard’s 2002 Romanée St Vivant.

Domaine Cathiard have just 0.17 hectares of Romanée St Vivant, that they acquired in 1984. It lies just next to the edge of the village, between the plots of Dujac and Arnoux. Depending on the year it yields enough juice for two or three barrels.

Back in 2002, Sylvain Cathiard was just coming out from under the radar, and the domaine was on the road to superstar status. It wasn’t quite in the position it is in now, where the chances of getting a full case of RSV must be minimal.

We think we have the only full case of this wine available for sale in Europe and, quite possibly, the world. The bottles intrigue. Notes on the wine are rare. Allen meadows tasted it in 2008 and, whilst his score of 94 points is typically conservative, he does write “this is one of the best wines of the vintage and while it is rare and expensive, don’t hesitate if you find it.” Clive Coates rates the wine 19.5, just behind 2002 La Romanée.

Is this the best or rarest, or a combination of the two? It’s not quite a unicorn wine yet, but it’s just one of many wines on our list that intrigue on account of its undoubted quality, clear rarity and exceptional provenance. Any takers?

Meeting Saint Peter – 1990 Pétrus

Unlike Ian, who drinks much better than I do, my Pétrus experiences have been limited to tasting rather than drinking. 2003 from the barrel in 2004 and again from bottle in 2012. A corked bottle of 1964 at around the same time (which was served anyway). A glass of the 1975 sometime in the late 2000s, courtesy of a generous friend at a neighbouring table at the now (sadly) gone Ransome’s Dock. The 2007, 2010 and 2011 at blind tastings over the past few years, and that’s it. Which may sound like a fair bit of Pétrus but, until last night, I’d never really had the opportunity to properly drink Pétrus, to get stuck in. No notebook (though I’ve mentally scored it), no tasting-sized sample. Just a magnum of the 100 point 1990, accompanied by some quite outstanding Ibérico Pork Ribs at the brilliant Ember Yard.

Straight out of the bottle (well, magnum, double-decanted an hour or so previously), you have to work a little to see the class. The incredible length gives it away but, that aside, you might fear an underwhelming evening. Opening bottles like this is a little like meeting your heroes – it can occasionally go wrong. This didn’t, but the initial introduction was a little frosty.

Pomerol is all about clay. Every proprietor in the region will claim that his or her property sits on a button of clay but the Pétrus button of clay is the real one, and it is this that initially dominates or, rather, this is the first part of the character to show. And then it just gets better, and better, and better.

There are few better ways of enjoying a bottle of something special than opening a large format. In the case of something like 1990 Pétrus, the sheer decadence is a pleasure though it isn’t necessarily gluttony. Drinking the contents of something that, when unopened, is worth a few thousand pounds can be looked at as obscene, or it can be seen as exactly the opposite: the monetary value of the juice is mere accountancy, it’s all about the juice. And this was the case. This was all about the juice.

After a few minutes in the glass, the genie started to emerge from the lamp. The clay was still there, indeed it stays throughout, but is slowly joined by caramel, spice, toffee, vanilla – to be honest the nose, and the mouth, becomes so kaleidoscopically complex that it is hard to nail anything down. To steal someone else’s note (on 1945 Latour), the flavours are like “tastes coming at you like Luke Skywalker being attacked with hundreds of bursting light bullets”.

I’ve been thinking about the wine ever since, and that Merlot quote from Paul Pontallier at Margaux: “you can’t make great wine from merlot”. 1990 Pétrus is easily the best wine I’ve drunk this year, and there has been some pretty stiff opposition. What keeps me thinking is that, not only is it Bordeaux, which to my mind is secondary in sensuality to Burgundy, it’s Merlot – a pretty crappy grape variety. And it’s a Merlot from Bordeaux that puts Burgundy in the shade. With the exception of 1961 Palmer, I can’t recall such a sensual claret and struggle to think of a wine that so seduced me, one that I could drink more and more and more of. There was almost something physically seductive about it.

The score? An easy 100 points if only because the experience couldn’t have been better.

The 100 point Wine (?)

I’ve always thought that awarding a wine 100 points…..or 20/20 if you prefer the traditionally British scoring system – to be rather egotistical. When declaring something to be perfect, it seems to me that you are also indicating that you believe you have absolute knowledge about that item. That you know, absolutely, categorically that it could not be improved upon.

And I don’t claim to know that. So I don’t give 100 point scores.

Not even privately, in my head.

Yesterday I attended a dinner with two friends at which we were lucky enough to drink extraordinary wines. Three Burgundies and one Bordeaux. It was one of those dinners that makes you laugh out loud at the absurdity of your good fortune. “How on earth did I end up here, doing this, today ? ? ?”

My heartfelt thanks to those friends that made this evening possible.

As regards the wines themselves, one might argue we did everything wrong: the red wines were served simultaneously, inviting invidious comparisons between three special red wines – which certainly all merited being considered alone. The wines were as follows:

1999 Puligny Montrachet, Les Enseignieres, Coche Dury (94/100)

Medium yellow gold. Bright and lively, yet full coloured. Having had this wine before I should have had the courage of my convictions and asked the excellent sommelier (at The Square) to decant it a couple of hours in advance: it seemed slightly jaded initially but tightened and freshened and revealed more and more fruit in the glass. Really lovely; but not typically ‘Coche’ for me – this is broad, orangey ripe, creamy. But after some time in the glass not a bit jaded. Bang on.

1989 Château Pétrus, Pomerol (98/100)

Hugely fragrant with that Pétrus scent that I’d (try to) describe as Asian spice, smokey nuts and clove. I kept on picking up different nuances over the course of the evening – one minute I picked up fennel seed, then cumin or curry leaf, the next liquorice, tar, toffee. Sometimes fruity; sometimes waxy, leathery and just a bit feral ! Very concentrated, very deep and very powerful on the palate. Almost too much of a good thing: huge opulence; flavours of blueberry, spice, plum pudding, caramel, aniseed, and saffron. Finishes very powerfully with savoury toffee. Colossal. I love it, but I couldn’t drink a bottle by myself.

2005 Chambertin, Domaine Armand Rousseau (96++?/100)

….At this moment in time, this is by far the tightest and most restrained of the three reds which we drank. Which doubtless did it a disservice. As the evening went on, this was developing beautifully in the glass. Indeed – if we’d opened it 24 hours in advance (or given it 20 years in cellar, much more appropriately !) this could well have been the standout wine, but today it was all in reserve. But lovely, nonetheless. Reticent initially, then mineral, with hints of cinnamon, raspberry and leaf. Later on I picked up notes of stem, smoke and rose petal. Very long and palate saturating, with almost citric purity. Crisp red berries, maybe. Long, bitingly concentrated finish. But not especially giving or generous today, you sense that this needs time: a lot of it !

2005 La Tâche, Domaine de la Romanée-Conti (100/100 (!) (?))

I had my first mouthful of this after finishing a glass of Pétrus and was rendered speechless.

Almost unbelievably, not only does it rival or exceed Pétrus 89 for sheer power and intensity (!), – it has a rapier like delineation and focus, that makes it seem…..just….more. Irrespective of region; irrespective of age. I just can’t imagine there being a more perfect young wine. There couldn’t be, could there ? The intense scent of 2005 La Tache was in perpetual flux over the course of the evening. Initially I picked up herbaceous elements of hawthorn, briar, and even mint or menthol. Later it seemed to have acquired all sorts of notes of spice, gravel and smoke. On the palate this is combines enormous scale, silky texture, painful intensity and total precision. Totally, totally fresh, vibrant, rich, and even now, at what you might expect to be an awkwardly early point in its evolution, it is breathtakingly brilliant.