I remember the first time I tasted Y'quem. I was at Number 9 Park, in Boston, with my sister. The one that I like. They were pouring the '99 by the glass for $25. My sister was doing a wine-tasting course at the time and I was like, 'I guarantee you that they won't give you this to taste', and so we split a glass. It blew my mind. As far as I was concerned, it was to your average Sauternes or Barsac what an Aston Martin DB5 was to a 1988 Ford Fiesta. It's a comparison that should separate all truly extraordinary wine from the average bottle in every instance, and I know that similar metaphors are often used in the trade, but with Y'quem it seems like anyone could smell and taste it and realise that it exists at a different level. Its concentration and intensity seem too much for its physical form.
So, you know, I liked it.
This bottle was a gift to the Naughton Dining Club from a lovely couple. They gave it to us the day before they got engaged. They have since divorced, which is very sad.
The wine, however, was excellent.
Gold. With its own light.
I always get pine resin with Y'quem's nose. Rich, resin-y, laden with pineapple and candied melon, chantilly, white chocolate and flecks of spice.
Young, with a palate that pops like the bubbles of an aero bar. Caramel coated pineapple, wood varnish, fresh chilli spice and maybe a bit of rubber. Not rubber in a bad way, but a sort of rubber tree plant rubber. Not petrochemical rubber. Piercing, intense sweetness. Which goes without saying, but still. Awesome.
Tasted at Naughton, 29 April 2012