When I was first getting into wine, in the late 90s, I went to a blind tasting of 1995 left bank first and second growths conducted by Robert Parker at Executive Wine Seminars in New York. Everything tasted great but also very similar. My only consolation at the apparent obtuseness of my palate was that Parker himself was only able to identify three of them correctly; a result perhaps comparable to what random guessing might produce. In any case, I salivated when, after the tasting, our host gave us a rundown of the scores that would be published in the upcoming edition of the WA, giving us a chance to buy before prices rose. Happy at the prospect of amortizing the cost of the seminar, I looked up the prices of every wine on his list and found two – Barde-Haut and Peby-Faugeres – in my pitiable price range, so I bought a case of each in the, wow, futures market. When the cases arrived, a year or so later (1999), I put away the PB because the boss forbade consumption before 2003 but started to drink the Barde Haut, which I found absolutely delicious. It became a sort of self-congratulatory Bordeaux epiphany, a Madeleine or Rosebud, and eventually I got a second case. As if to punish me for my hubris, around 2003 the Barde Haut stopped giving me pleasure. Suddenly it had become listless. In distress, I googled it in case I had missed it in the obituary pages and found a note by a certain Dale Williams on a site run by a certain Robin Garr:
Topic: TN: '82 Pontet-C, 97 Barde Haut, Skurnik tasting
Author: Dale Williams
Date: Mon Sep 30 2002
The 1997 Barde-Haut (St. Emilion) was quite nice for the vintage. Crushed raspberries and blackcurrant fruit on the nose and palate, with some apparent but not overwhelming toasty oak and vanilla flavors marking this as a more internationally styled Bordeaux. With a little time in the glass some definite additions of chocolate and cedar. Plenty of life left in this ''97, it was well-worth the $22 price. The few ''97s I bought were mostly "drink-ups", but I think I can probably hold my other couple of Barde-Hauts for quite a while. A-
Well, that only told me that, in 2002, it was still the wine that I loved, but what had happened to the “plenty of life”? By then, I already knew that certain wines closed down for a few years, but how could I distinguish a closed wine from an over-the-hill wine? After a few more months of vinous agony, I emailed Mr. Williams, who was very sympathetic and invited me to submit a bottle to an upcoming (10/17/2004) offline called “Good Wines in Iffy Vintages.” This turned out to be the infamous Ramadam tasting at a Turkish restaurant (see http://www.wineloverspage.com/user_subm ... 64841.html) where we had to hide the wines under the table. There I met Alex R, who I was honored to sit next to and whose awesome 99 Palmer was WOTN, Ramon Cabrera, and John PappaDoc (from Zachys) whose 1998 Prum Auslese, coming like a blazing sunrise after a tiring sequence of reds, was the epiphany of the night for me, opening the door to sweet wines, which I had previously (and haughtily) shunned. But I digress. Going back to the Barde Haut, Dale’s note on my bottle said:
"Oswaldo brought this to get some opinions, concerned that it wasn't showing the fruit that it had recently. Medium-bodied, nose of cedar, red fruit, and licorice. Picked up some depth over the night, but didn't have the chocolately lushness that I experienced with this wine less than a year ago. Getting tired or closing down? Still, a B/B+ wine."
So, the tasting was exotic and fun, and led to my meeting Dale, who become a friend. But it did not really answer my question which, I then understood, could only be answered by time. So I put the last two bottles away for five years and had one of them last night. Suspense.
1997 Château Barde-Haut Saint-Emilion Grand Cru 12.5%
Cork is stained almost the whole way through but the aroma from the bottleneck is gorgeous. Color is vigorous with almost no bricking at the edges, a sign of little oxidation (thank you, brave little cork, gamely battling the marauding hordes, even while standing on its last legs). Nose is absolutely lovely, classic claret truffles and leather. Fruit is rich and delicious, with additional notes of tar and coffee. Acidity perhaps fading a bit at this point, but who cares, we are in raptures. The sleeping beauty was awakened and is performing an elegant and joyful song. Who says Parker only lauds alcoholic fruit bombs that stand out in mass tasting situations? What, me?! This wine was elegant in its infancy and is again elegant in middle age, having taught me a lesson and increased my circle of acquaintances by closing down during the surly years of adolescence. Bravo.