Wandering aimlessly through the streets of London thinking over and over about that beautiful glamorous woman. Oh how she seduced me, then left me feeling empty. Forgotten. Is it even worth tasting wine that good, if you think that was as good as it was ever going to get? I high that high is bound to be followed by a drop. 

The very next week, after the annual New Zealand wine tasting at Lords (Nautilus Brut. How good?) I quickly squeezed into a press tasting by my good friend Richard Dudley Craig, a man who, when it comes to food and wine, knows where his towel is (RIP Douglas Adams. x)

Richard as done pretty much every job in the restaurant biz, from chefing in Michelin starred kitchens, to serving wine to writing about it.

He had invited me to dinner at the Gavroche with some ‘pretty sprauntzy wines’ to use his words. What kind of idiot double-books dinner at the Gavroche? I went to taste vermouth instead. (See previous post about Mele e Pere.) 

Anyway. back to Richard. He now sells the stuff. He’s one of a rare breed of people whose passion for wine is so over-flowing that he just had to get onto his own soap box and preach the gospel his way. He truly believes in his wines. I believe in him. He sells wines that are unquestionably delicious, but some of his flock have no more chance of selling in an ordinary wine outlet than my mother’s grandfather clock has of becoming the next prime minister. Dudley & De Fleury WInes reminds me of Les Caves de Pyrène, back in the day in Guildford, when Eric Nairoo bought wine just because they were great. No more, no less. You know. The days when their wines smelled of fruit, not the burnt ruins of Pompeii. When pleasure superseded provenance.

He is brave. He makes brave buying decisions. But he is selling the stuff. Look at the excellent lists around London displaying his wines, The Harwood Arms in Fulham for one. His list of cult wines is comprehensive from countless Southern French rising stars to Vin Jaune in the Savoie to Romarantin from Cours-Cheverny.

http://www.dudleydefleury.com

Now if you think I am abusing the opportunity to spread the word about Richard’s portfolio by putting Cheval Blanc at the top of my post, you’d be right. But it is justified for two simple reasons.

1) If businesses like his can’t succeed, no one should.

and

2) He opened these.

Oh godddd!!!!

Where do I start?

1995

Truly delicious, but with such exalted company, I am pleased that I tasted it first. Rich roasted plum and mocha notes on the nose with hints of a dark slatey underpinning, keeping the enthusaism in check. Very tasty, but with that slight over-exuberance that I associate with right-bank wines of the vintage. Not finesse personified, but I think there is a wiser wine still to come in five more years.  

1998

Well bugger me. I for one love this vintage in the right bank, and have had many astonishing wines, including the otherworldly Trotanoy '98 which was grand, exotic, if a little Parkerish, and the profound, unbelievably well tailored, elegantly mannered Vieux Chateau Certan '98. Ok, so where does this come? Mm. It is grand, very grand even. 'Gigantesque’ would be an appropriate French word. Despite its sheer size, though, it is pliable, revealing, like a large dark velvet curtain on a grand stage, with endless folds revealing different nuances as it moves. Sublime. It really could actually be the best wine here. As is the way, if I had given scores, they wouldn’t have reflected that. There are two higher scoring wines, for sure, but this is the one I might want to grow old with. Marriage material. Reminds me of someone.

1990

Sadly this one was corked….

Despite the packaging fault, if this had been the only Cheval Blanc here, I would have been inclined to pour it and drink it anyway. Corked? Certainly. Still interesting? God, yes. It had an underlying crunch and purity that spoke with the same clipped correctness, confidence and charm as some of the grand left back stars. Major General Pichon Baron 1990, or Household Cavalry Captain Clerc Milon 1990 (God that wine is underrated.) Maybe in light of the texture stripping TCA, this wine would otherwise have been very plush, but I cannot see how this wine ultimately could have been better than the previous one. Certainly in the right bank I rate 1998 and 1990 equally highly. This backs that up.

Two left. 

2000

I have, we all have, read extensively about the might of this vintage. Despite such fantastic vintages as 1996 and 1998, there can be no doubt that the millennium vintage holds the title of the most revered and sought-after vintage since 1990. Personally, putting aside the fact there are only great wines, not great vintages, I certainly put 1990 up there as the greatest overall year for Bordeaux wines since 1961. Frankly, I simply haven’t drunk enough 1982s in my life to disprove this, but that’s my bad, not anyone else’s. Boo hoo me.

I have also heard a lot of Bordeaux experts claim that 2000 was maybe too highly-rated, and the sheer romance of a millennium vintage skewed the perception of the vintage. (It would be quite nice to compare the Margaux 1900 with the Margaux 2000 though, wouldn’t it?)  Well I can give you my incredibly limited take on this now. I had tasted a magnum of Lynch Bages 2000 last year, which was embryonically young despite other peoples opinion of it being an early maturer or simple in any way. A good investment, no doubt and a wine that won’t reveal its true Lynchyness and focus for another ten years or so, in magnum anyway. The only question mark over this for me, is whether it is fine enough. The 1982, 1985 and 1989 all had a lacy quality that the 2000 Lynch Bages doesn’t currently possess.

How about Cheval Blanc 2000? Parker gave it a perfect score. I mean what twaddle. Doesn’t giving a 100/100 score mean that you are 100% certain that you have already tasted the best wine in your life? It makes me sad just thinking about it.

However, (I grumble under my breath) I can confidently reveal that he was right. Having tasted the 2001 a week ago (See the last post.), I was wondering how much better, if at all, this wine could be.

The answer is a little more complex than a yes or no. but this is the finest textured young Bordeaux red wine I have ever put in my mouth. Also, it has perfect balance, allied with tidal power. In my head I have an image of a 2-Door Bentley Mulliner GT balanced on the end of a broom, on top of David Blaine’s head. It’s not possible, is it? Well it was there. In my mouth I didn’t imagine it. This wine was a total head fuck.

The more complex answer is that the 2001 is actually more interesting at the moment, showing more faces of its cube at once. Talking about prices would ruin this whole post, as I am only writing it because I didn’t have to pay for any of these wine. However, at today’s prices, you can enjoy four bottles, possibly even five of the 2001 for the cost of just one 2000. Your choice. It most certainly isn’t mine.

1982

Yeah. Quite nice.

Ask me about it sometime, if you want.