What initially seemed like TCA did vanish, but since TCA does not vanish I assume it was something that only appeared to be TCA but was indeed something else.
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I don’t see the personal attacks that you’re referencing. No one is disputing his vast experience with old/ancient wines. Folks can choose to disagree about whether his tastes are “extreme”, but no one is claiming inauthenticity. So what that some people didn’t like his TNs. Also, Francois acknowledges that the dinners have enabled him to open far more old wines than he would otherwise. (No one doubts that he’s also opened a huge number outside of the dinners.)
I apologize for bringing up the nonprofit status if that was perceived as an “accusation”. That was not my intention.
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I’ve dropped you a pm to clarify, but no, I wasn’t referring to the query about non-profit
Now if we can agree that VA does not vanish, can we also agree that Brett and VA do not either? Asking for a friend . . .
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Yes, some very mature wines have a mustiness that isn’t TCA and can go away. It sure can seem like TCA in some cases, but time tends to make things clear. We don’t need to render a verdict on a wine immediately.
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I have experienced resurrections like that, for sure.
Amazing.
Did your wife come up with the Rainbow Bridge reference?
Yes!
Good to hear your view of Vin Jaune - more for those of us who think otherwise!
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Same here. Many times in really old wines first comment around the table was TCA but with air it disappeared (hence, it wasn‘t TCA).
I really love old wine as well although not to the extent of Francois. I have in many, many instances experienced bottle stink which occurs in long closed bottles. This requires a lot of aeration to bring them around. Sometimes they never recover. But in such instances when they do, I am in complete agreement with Francois.
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Eric this is, for me, a great example of how folks rationalize an admiration for Francois. When he’s right, he’s right! Yeah, I mean, so is everyone.
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Really not quite what Eric meant, even if the sentence could be so construed. If even half the bottles Francois writes about gave to me even half the pleasure he takes in them, I would consider that disconfirming what I thought about very old-- say older than 75–wine. I should say that my experience with wine that old is so infinitesimal, that if I were really open minded, I would have no opinion at all. Alas, I have not yet achieved the view from nowhere.
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I think it’s probably enough to say that a lot of us on here have different opinions about wine. Big wines, acidic wines, red wines v white wines, champagne styles. We have different opinions about how to handle wines. Decant, slo ox, pop and pour, blender, Pobega, rest for a while. We have different beliefs in how we interpret wines. Reductive v oxidative, is brett a flaw, is VA present and can it blow off, how much TCA is too much (we even had a thread along the lines of, if it’s there, but I can’t identify it, does it exist), how much oxidation is too much, how much residual sugar is too much, how much acid is too much, does travel shock affect wines, does bottle shock effect wines, how much aging is appropriate for my wine.
Then we get into some interesting questions like can a wine be objectively good, but subjectively not good, or is all qualitative analyses in wine subjective and personal in nature?
If subjective, should we consider things like science, bias, blind tests, and independent studies and analyses, and allow our behavior to be affected by those things. Or, alternatively, should we rely exclusively on our own anecdotal experiences to determine, for ourselves, what we think works best.
I think that Francois lives that last sentence. I have heard from many a contributor here that he is a kind and generous man, a lovely conversationalist, charming, and interesting, with a nearly unrivaled passion for the enjoyment of wine. Though he has a financial interest in his tastings, so do many on the boards. If Marcus Goodfellow or Jim Anderson came on and said, “hey, I’m really digging my 2021s. I think they’re really special” I’m not sure we’d immediately jump out and say “those lads have a pecuniary interest in saying that, so let’s just disregard it.” And that’s even knowing that the first half of the sentence is correct.
Look, I’ve disagreed with Francois repeatedly in any number of threads on this board. I don’t believe in this magical resuscitation of wines by popping the cork and having them sit, and that’s well documented. I don’t believe all these old wines with below shoulder ullage that are legit brown in pics somehow became life altering gems. I certainly don’t buy for a second that wafting a three ring binder over a badly corked bottle of wine magically made the TCA disappear from the solution (from a chemistry perspective, a laughable proposition). And I certainly believe that expectation and biases affect our enjoyment and interpretation of wines, a well-proven theory that Francois rejected in our prior debates. But despite those disagreements, unless you believe that he’s a snake oil selling charlatan, it is probably not fair to cast him as some bad human being because you disagree with his beliefs about wine. I believe he enjoys his wines thoroughly, and enjoys sharing them with others, some of whom also seem to enjoy them.
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Okay so when the post-opening stink blows off of really old wines, sometimes they end up being great, and in those instances, Francois’s belief that you have to get the stink to blow off to allow them to be great holds true and the pleasure presented is unique to old wines (how could it not be…).
But other times, the stink either doesn’t blow off, or it does blow off and the wines are dead and there isn’t anything magical about that.
I don’t think I really misinterpreted Eric’s sentence.
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I will say a word about tolerance toward wine. In one dinner of the academy for ancient wines, Didier Depond of Salon had brought a Salon 1959. I was sitting next to Aubert de Villaine. I drank the Salon which was absolutely dead. I saw Aubert smelling and drinking it and I told him : there is no necessity to go further, it is dead, you will not go further. And Aubert told me : I want to understand and to see what happened to this wine.
I have the chance that for DRC, I have drunk more than 600 wines in the last 22 years. And it covers 91 vintages of DRC wines among which 58 vintages of ‘the’ Romanée Conti.
If I open a DRC wine which is tired, I will have the same attitude as Aubert de Villaine, I will try to find what is positive in this wine. I never condemn, I want to find what is positive in this wine.
And what is important is that I do not want to impose my taste. I said already : I do not pretend to have the knowledge, I pretend to have the experience.
I have drunk more that 100 vintages of Yquem, this gives me an experience and an idea about what Yquem is. And I do not want to impose my vision, I just want to testify.
And I must say that if I open an Yquem 1874, what is important is the emotion that I have had, and not more, because when I will open a new Yquem 1874 or if you open an Yquem 1874, it will not be the same bottle so the taste will be different.
So if you read my reports, do not try to find that I have made a mistake, listen to the emotion that I had which is exactly what I have lived. Cheers,
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Spoken like an artist, Francois.
Bravo! 
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Instead of justifying my taste I want to let you read a report of the 25th dinner at the Lucas Carton restaurant made in 2003.
When I opened the Romanée Conti 1956, I declared that it was dead and I let Alain Senderens smell it and he said also : completely dead.
Now, please read this report and tell me if my vision on wine has to be denied.
At the opening of the bottles, joys and anxieties. The cork of the Romanée Conti was topped with dried earth under a largely destroyed pinkish-colored wax. The black cork showed its wounds. The terrible smell, although not insurmountable, announced certain death. Everyone would rule out this wine: a restaurant could not offer it, a wine merchant could not sell it, because the color of the wine had lightened, the pigmentation having reached the bottom of the bottle, which had remained vertical for nearly a week. . So I announced the death of this wine, and I opened a bottle of Richebourg Domaine de la Romanée Conti 1953 that I had planned just in case. Beautiful capsule, beautiful color. Under the capsule, earth. The cap breaks in the middle, it is black. Its smell is an earthy smell. And it’s not dirt in the middle of other smells. No, this cork is just dirt. And nothing else. An unpleasant smell of wine. But I know those smells. They suggest a return to life. As a precaution, after having opened all the bottles, I went to buy in one of the shops in the neighborhood a La Tâche 1972, again just in case. The joy was to open the Bâtard Montrachet from the Domaine de la Romanée Conti, bottle bearing the number 00000, because this wine is never marketed. It was a gift that was given to me by Aubert de Villaine, that my guests deserved. With Philippe the sommelier attached to our feasts, we couldn’t stop smelling this mythical Bâtard, one of the rarest and most fantastic bottles there is. And we kept coming back to this wonderful smell.
The meal starts with Y d’Yquem 1985. I like Y because we read the message of the grapes of this wonderful castle, and 1985 is a great success for Y. From the first sip, you feel how all the flavors of the first course are dissected, as in a chromatography. But it was the asparagus bitterness of the second course that gave it a brilliant boost: the Y became fiery, where it was only representative. Two separate agreements. One of the guests asked if it was indeed the same wine!
The Corton Charlemagne Bouchard Père & Fils 1983 is a gem of precision. Of course, when you have the Bâtard Montrachet from Domaine de la Romanée Conti 1998 next to you, it is quite difficult to position yourself. But in fact not at all. There were two brilliant, breathtaking expressions of white Burgundy genius who were there to offer their bounty and subtle evocations. The Corton is large, refined, and needs to be analyzed properly to grasp all the messages. The Bastard crushes everything in his path: he is a real Bâtard, totally authentic, who shows his power with a rare frankness. Drinking this wine is for me the culmination of a collector. This is the wine we dream of. No one around the table knew it since the Domaine does not sell it. But everyone understood the honor we were given to be able to taste this rarity.
The Vieux Château Certan 1966 in magnum has confirmed that it is one of the successes of 1966. An elegant nose, an attack on the palate very distinctive Pomerol, a fine achievement on the monkfish judiciously excited by the squid ink, and a certain absence of length, year sign.
Philippe had an excellent idea, it was to serve the Romanée Conti 1956 first. I had announced the death notice at the start of the meal, and there, this clear liquid sent a message. And this message was readable! Of course, you shouldn’t wait to drink what a Romanée Conti must be. But it was an exciting beverage, made of an alcoholic framework and remnants of splendor. A click came to me, it was to taste it on the rose petals of the dish. And as with Alain Senderens on a 1915 Nuits Cailles, Romanée Conti has come back to life. This is a matter of pride for me. Because I think that even the Domaine would not have had the patience to wait for this wine, because it is too far from the expected message. So here is a wine that a restaurant would refuse, that a shop would refuse, that an individual would not wait for and which was revived there. So much so that in the final votes, this wine which had had the appearance of death was rated number 1 twice, number 2 once, number 3 twice and number 4 once. It was therefore 60% of the table that put him in the top four. Unexpected. I took the equivalent of a third of a glass from the bottom of the bottle, which had most of the aromas. We felt it with Alain Senderens more than an hour later. No one could have said then that this wine had been so badly hurt. Magic of wine, and – objectively extreme – unique experience. Almost at the same time, the Richebourg Domaine de la Romanée Conti 1953 was served. It had had time to recover its health. What is striking is the meaty, animal, earthy side of this wine. And here we are in what I love: wine brutalizes, jostles, disturbs with a message that makes no concessions. We are far from silky with this monster there. And this is where with this marvelous duck, the fusion accord becomes magical. And, a nice paradox, Richebourg is drunk at the same time as Romanée Conti, without one getting in the way of the other. On the contrary. The Romanée Conti highlights the Richebourg, and the Richebourg makes it possible to read the Romanée Conti. What teamwork. This cohesion made it necessary to wait before drinking a sublime Musigny Vieilles Vignes Comte Georges de Voguë 1979, now presenting itself in a state of absolute plenitude. It is obviously the classy Burgundy that brings together known flavors. We are on familiar ground. With the DRC, we are in the middle of a dream. With the Musigny we are in the power and the beautiful roughness that I like. I must say that this 1979 is a rare expression of perfection. It would shine more if it did not have such formidable rarities before it.
On a foie gras with a rare flavor, reminiscent of the meals of a century ago, comes a wine that is part of my approach. What did I not hear: “why a Monbazillac? », as if only the most prestigious appellations had the right to express themselves. I want us to participate in the history of wine, at all its ages, in all its appellations, and in all its states, a wounded wine also being a testimony. It is this whole story that I want to introduce to aesthetes who do not have the possibility of having access to most of these wines. Monbazillac Château Le Chrisly 1965 shone with surprising quality on the foie gras. It was ten times more comfortable than the Rayne-Vigneau 1941. It is also quite surprising that the Rayne Vigneau, which appeared so brilliant when opened, generous, even flamboyant, turned into a dry wine when it was drink it. The flamboyance was gone. The messages became more confidential. This is a wine that should have been drunk at the opening. Its dryness made it irrelevant to the dish. But make no mistake: even rough, it is a great wine with formidable complexities.
The little raspberry delicacies tickled a sparkling rosé Krug. I had a little trouble getting used to its powerful bubble (not used to drinking champagne at this time of the meal), but this Krug was very beautiful. It also marked a break before the delicious Yquem 1933.
Wonderful agreement with the mango, but the honey had been calibrated on Yquem 1921 and not on Yquem 1933, particularly dry. The author of this gift regretted the drought and I made the same remark to him as I had made to Alexandre de Lur Saluces about Yquem 1932 so dry: it is the expression of Yquem on this year there, so I take it as such. And I loved this very dry Yquem 1933, but covering a rare subtlety of message. I love these suggested Yquems.
An American who dined at Lucas Carton had drunk Palmer 1961 and Hermitage la Chapelle 1961 all by himself, one of the sacred monsters of legendary wines. I invited him to our table, which earned me a taste of the extraordinary Hermitage, which fully justifies his reputation. What race, elegance, structure and what fulfillment of this 1961. A dream wine. We promised to see each other again either in Sweden or at a dinner of wine-dinners.
The votes of the four best wines for each guest ensured that each wine was mentioned at least once, which is remarkable. Le Richebourg 1953 has been cited many times, and each time first. Le Bâtard and Romanée Conti were most often cited next. They were followed by Corton Charlemagne and Monbazillac. My personal vote was: 1 – Richebourg DRC 1953, 2 – Bâtard Montrachet DRC, 3 – Romanée Conti DRC and 4 – Yquem 1933. So these are the three wines of the Domaine, including a flamboyant unknown, a wounded warrior, and a dying man who were everyone’s choice. It is good, because it shows that we appreciate a wine not only for its intrinsic quality, in line with what we should expect, but also for the value of the testimony, of the historical emotion that it provides. So there were talented guests.
Alain Senderens had composed with his team a menu of a grandiose balance. The best pairings were, to my taste, the sketch of asparagus on the Y, the squid ink on the Vieux Château Certan, the rich heaviness of the duck on the violent Richebourg, the exquisite smoothness of the foie gras on the Monbazillac , the flesh of the mango on the Yquem. The prize goes to foie gras on Monbazillac, followed by duck on Richebourg.
The evening was so beautiful that at the end of the meal, no one wanted to leave the table. Everything was consumed, but this sweet tranquility, with an incredible lightness as everything had been eaten in perfect rhythm, created one of those timeless pleasures that should never end.
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@Francois_Audouze I truly enjoy this back and forth among wine lovers. When my ship comes in, I will dine with you. Jusque là!