I could write pages and pages about the subject of old wines to which I have devoted my passion.
Consider what I say in this article as the cry of my heart.
Some people imagine that age diminishes a wine. I imagine that age improves a wine. And I have seen a justification of that through many extensive verticals that I have attended.
One day we made a vertical of Clos de Tart on 56 vintages going back to the decade 1880. My favorite was the 1915. But more interesting is that there were journalists whom I know do not like old wines. And when I asked them which one they preferred, they never answered a young wine but wines of the decade 1940 or of the decade 1920.
I think that Robert Parker made a very bad service to wine when he introduced the concept of plateau of maturity followed by a decline. This leads to the idea that a wine declines, when it is the contrary that arrives, if the corks keep all their qualities.
Some people say that I am a necrophilous, but it happens that I convince people who drink with me.
Some examples:
My greatest Lafite is Lafite 1844, a prephylloxeric wine which was pure perfection.
My greatest white wine is a 1865 Montrachet Bouchard, who left me speechless. I was in front of perfection.
My greatest Yquem is 1861 of a very great year but which had an advantage which is unique: it had its original cork.
My greatest DRC wine is Les Gaudichots DRC 1929. A pure marvel.
My greatest red wine is 1961 Hermitage La Chapelle Jaboulet
My greatest Mouton is 1945 Mouton
It is more difficult to say which is my best Haut-Brion but 1928 and 1945 are candidates.
My greatest Champagne Salon is 1943
My greatest Dom PĂ©rignon is 1929
One could say that I am intoxicated by old wines, but when I share wines with many amateurs, it is rare that they say that I am wrong.
We live in a world where the decline of a wine has been taught to everyone, even the winemakers. When I talked about my dinners people said: âare these wines still good?â. And it was so frequent that at one moment I answered to these questions: âno these wines are dead and I am specialized in dinners of dead winesâ.
I go further. If for the greatest Bordeaux you think that a 2005 or a 2009 can deserve 100 points, my intimate conviction is that a 1947 or a 1928 deserves 200 or 300 points. Drink one day 1947 Latour or 1928 Margaux and you will regret not considering these wines.
Of course I admit that some people can think: he is passionate for old wines so his palate is deviated. But if it were the case, the people who share wines with me would tell it to me. And if they do not it is not because they are polite.
One day I went to Belgium for a dinner of Chateauneuf du Pape. I brought the oldest, a 1933, and it was accepted as the winner of the dinner.
One day I was invited by a man who collects Beaujolais because he lives in Beaujolais. I brought a 1945 Moulin Ă Vent and he was frustrated because I had brought the best ever Beaujolais that he had drunk because he had never considered that a Beaujolais of 1945 could be still living.
My intimate conviction is that we live with wine what I will try to image. Imagine that all the shops who sell fruits present only green strawberries. As everybody would only know green strawberries, they would like green strawberries. And they would find virtues in green strawberries. Because nobody would have told them that red strawberries exist.
If you have never drunk a wine of 1945, 1947, 1928 or 1929 you cannot imagine that they are the red strawberries when all the wines after 1982 are green strawberries.
Of course there is passion in my words, but the world of old wines is such a fantastic world that I try as much as I can to let it be known.
I can fully understand that amateurs say: I prefer the genuineness of the fruits in great young wines. It is their choice. But as I drink also these young wines, I feel entitled to say: explore this fantastic world because it is where perfection exists.
Today, contrarily to what I have known, the very old great wines are not accessible financially. But it does not mean by any way that they are not transcendental. They are. It is not because I have not the means to buy a Bugatti that a Bugatti is not the absolute perfection of a car.
After 50 years of collecting wines I know that I will never convince anyone, except with a glass in hand.
Cheers