As has already been previewed, Danny opened some amazing wines to celebrate his birthday at Tetsuya’s.
We began with a brace of fabulous Champagnes: a Krug 1981 and a Krug 1982:

The 1981 immediately showed a classic Krug character: extremely assertive on the nose and palate, lots of crème brûlée, vanilla, hazelnuts, aged oak, preserved lemon and an indescribable finesse and sophistication despite the innate power. The 1982 was initially quite closed but opened as it warmed. It showed more coffee and chocolate aromas, tied together on the palate by a fresh acidity. It did not have the power or richness of the 1981 but was still of exceptional quality. Both wines drink well now but these bottles were so fine that they could have lasted many more years in a good cellar.
With these was served a Chestnut mushroom soup with truffle salt and a smoked ocean trout and avruga caviar tartare.

The ocean trout tartare was an exceptional dish which matched perfectly with the richness of the Krug: the saltiness of the caviar added another dimension to the wine.
With a Leek and crab custard, Danny presented an exceptional Alsacien wine, a Zind Humbrecht Gewürztraminer Vendange Tardive Hengst Grand Cru 1990. This wine had a lightness and poise that I’ve not witnessed before from a wine of this region. Simply, it was the best Alsacien wine I’ve been lucky enough to drink. The nose was had an indescribable entanglement of aroma: at one moment burnt butter, the next roasting nuts, then dried apricot, pop corn, salty air, cedar, pineapple, roasting spices. In the mouth, it was luxurious, coating and yet refreshing. It had none of the oiliness of recent Alsacien vintages. Superb.


The food then reached even greater heights with an array of scampi: Grilled scampi wrapped in pancetta, scampi in sea water and lemon scented olive oil and marinated scampi in white miso and passion fruit. Each preparation of scampi showed something unique about this great crustacean. The first preparation showed it’s amazing texture and delicious flavour, which when wrapped in pancetta like this, reminded me more of fowl than seafood; the second showed the purity of the meat; the third the delicate and fine flavour and it’s natural sweetness. With the three white wines, I think it actually went best with the 1982 Krug, as that wine did no overpower the subtlety of the meat.

While we ate this dish, a Lindemans bin 3110 Hunter River “Burgundy” 1965 (classic release) was served. This wine was different to other legends of Australia’s vinous history: it was very refined, very Hunter, the nose was amazingly complex: I sensed a pure red berry aroma, like logan berry, that I get from aged Hunters but it was wrapped up an a fantastic spiciness: mustard, white pepper, coriander seed. The palate was powerful but elegant, the alcoholic weight that turns me off so many Australian wines here worked to lift the fruit to exceptional heights, as you would expect from a great Port or Madeira. So confident and complete was this wine, it in no way struggled with the konbu and witlof presented as part of the confit of petuna Tasmanian ocean trout with konbu, apple, fennel and witlof.


Following the Lindemans would be hard, and it was left to a Faiveley Nuits-Saint-Georges Les Saint Georges 1er Cru 1953 and a Domaine Leroy Clos de Vougeot 1990. The Faiveley was amazing, extremely delicate in aroma, with the classic character of old Burgundy long cared for – a spiciness like dried chili combined with an apparent intensity which you would not expect from a wine so light in colour. In the mouth it was long, spicy, beautifully structured. A great old Burg. The Leroy was typical of this great domaine: powerful, rich but with an underlying gracefulness. The nose was a power house of modern Burgundy and the palate showing a structure that lent the wine to further aging. So great was the caliber of wine on this night, I think the Leroy suffered by comparison to the other wines.

Compare the deep, dark colour of the Lindemans to the Faiveley
I found the Antarctic black cod with globe artichoke and yuzu vinaigrette less successful. The fish left a powdery sensation in the mouth and the fishiness was not suited to red wine.
The Roasted breast of quail with soft polenta and shiitake mushroom was the height of eating. The quail was perfectly seasoned, very savoury, extremely moist, just delicious.

It was served with a dream flight of Bordeaux. Unfortunately the Château Lafleur was slightly corked and muted enough to be not worth drinking (although, the extremely enthusiastic amongst us gave it a go, Sanjay even getting a refill!). The Château Palmer 1966 was marvelous and in pristine condition. The nose was layered, complex but very classically aged Bordeaux, with that simply timeless quality of integration and a sense the the wine as a whole is great than its components. I took great pleasure in it over the remainder of the dinner and thought it may well be my wine of the night.
The Le Pin 1990 lead to some difficulties. There was remarkable variation between glasses, leading me to ask the sommelier if the Lafleur hadn’t been poured by mistake. In the end, I can only suspect that there was a cleanliness issue with some glasses. Looking at Danny and Gen’s glass, and the sediment in the remainder of the bottle, there was a wine of amazing otherness, the Merlot and Cabernet Franc giving off herbaceous savoriness I’m not used to seeing in Bordeaux. I didn’t really see the famed greatness of the wine, however.


Then came a wine which left me gasping for air: the Gaja Sori Tilden 1990.

The nose of this wine combined the greatest elements of Burgundy and Bordeaux: the nose was extremely complex, with aromas unimaginable in wine (Burgundy) but the nose was unceasing, powerful, almost forceful (Bordeaux). The palate was extremely fresh (Burgundy), with lots of fine tannin (Bordeaux). I’m just not able to describe the greatness of this wine, except to say that eclipsed all that came before it. It was that good.
One would except that the slow roast rack of lamb with blue cheese and white miso would be great with this bracket but I found the sauce to be wrong for the delicateness of the perfectly cooked lamb and to have a flavour poorly suited to wine.
The dish that followed, grass fed Angus beef fillet with blewitt and chestnut mushrooms was a spectacular match, combining as it did the the characters of the wine in front of us: meaty sweetness and rich mushroomy earthiness.


The Penfolds Grange 1982 was noticeably Australian: extremely rich, powerful, young. The nose was replete with vanilla and raspberry. The palate was resolved with a great balance of fruit, acid, alcohol and tannin. A great Grange but I couldn’t stop going back to the Gaja!
The Apple Sorbet and Mont Blanc prepared the palate for the change to dessert and sweet wine. The Mont Blanc was in fact a play on one of my favorite desserts, a megève (which comes from the Alps, near Mont Blanc). This is a combination cream and chestnut paste that is rich but sophisticated.

This went very well with the next wine, a Marc Brédif Vouvray 1928. This fascinating wine had an extremely youthful appearance (mid gold) and a nose showing no real sign of it’s considerable age: there was honey on yogurt, white pepper, ginger, clove, mirabelle… an endless array of aromas. The palate was extremely balanced and long. Upon pouring, this was awesome. After 20 minutes in the glass it faded. But an hour later, it was even better than first expected: wave after wave of pleasure emanated from the glass. There was no sign of when this wine would peak… it may just last for ever.

With the Apple tarte tatin with calvados cream it came into its own, drawing out the aged oak of the calvados and the range of spices used in the tarte: cloves, cinnamon maybe even a hint of cardamom.

The Jakob Gerhardt Niersteiner Trockenbeerenauslese 1981 (Burgenland, Austria) was perhaps even more suited to the apple tarte, being extremely similar: brown apples, spice, unctuous on the palate, long and viscous.

The Chocolate terrine with mascarpone and cognac anglaise was mouth coating richness materialised. The only wine that could really handle this was the D’Oliveira Bual Maderia 1968 whose incredible gracefulness, rich nuttiness and fortified power cleansed the palate and left the taster breathing an almond-like spicy fire. Like the Vouvray, this wine will last decades and even centuries longer. Great Madeira like this is just so gourmand, it’s bitterness, complexity and texture make it almost like a food.

Marc Brédif, Jakob Gerhardt, D’Oliveira Madeira
Like others, I would have preferred the cheese and the Lindemans Commemorative Cabernet Sauvignon 1990 to be served before dessert. By this time, we were all fading. I didn’t take a good enough look at this wine to do justice to it here.
Danny, thanks for your generosity and company, yet again. You’re a great guy and we all look forward to drinking many a good bottle with you over the next forty years.


