It's all John’s fault.
In August 1968 I flew to Chicago for an Astronomical League conference but, because limited funds kept me in the area, I had to find a place to stay before the dorms opened at Northwestern University in Evanston in late September. John was kind enough to let me crash at his off-campus apartment at no cost. In addition to our common major, astronomy, we shared a love of classical music.
But the life changing benefit of making John’s acquaintance was his introducing me to fine wine.
Up until that time, the only grape-based alcoholic beverage to regularly pass my lips came from brick-shaped bottles labeled Manischewitz Concord Grape wine following a Hebrew prayer. As respite from its unmitigated sweetness, my father would occasionally serve the dry version. During that period, wine, like ritual, was more of an obligation than a joy.
But then I saw what John had on his kitchen table. The bottles were cylindrical, not four cornered. They were sealed with corks, not screw tops. They had elegant looking labels in French with a year plainly noted. These were not my father's hooch. They were what John's mom provisioned him with.
Precisely when one of these bottles went under the screw is unknown. John recalls: "We had many discussions about wine and food but my recollection is that the first sip was at a dinner at my off-campus apartment where I made [Mother's] red meat sauce for pasta and I think I trotted out a '61 Léoville Las Cases, which was about half my holdings at the time." Thus began ma vie en vin.
Swinging Sixties – and Seventies
Toward the end of my junior year, I cofounded a gourmet society with a fellow student whose last name began with D, which combined with my H to yield the Duncan Hines Memorial Bon Vivant Fellowship, International or DHMBVF. The purpose was to hold tastings and an annual banquet at a notable Chicago restaurant, to which we brought a noteworthy selection of fine wines.
In 1969, I started recording information and tasting notes for every wine I sampled in small loose-leaf notebooks. I also saved the labels from many of the bottles. The earliest entries are for Emilio Lustau Sherries dated August 1969 and for 1961 Château d'Yquem dated November 1969. The latter was drunk at La Maisonette restaurant in Skokie and cost $14. In May 1970, the entries included 1961 Château Haut-Brion ($15), 1964 Montrachet from Baron Thenard ($17), 1947 Musigny from Pierre Ponnelle ($6, half bottle), and 1882 Blandy's Bual Madeira ($20).
With my return to Northwestern for graduate school in 1972, this time in applied mathematics, the DMHBVF flourished without the participation of "D", who had left the area. For example, we held two major events in November 1975. On the 9th, we tasted blind and ranked five burgundies, 1970 Meursault-Charmes, Charles Jobard ($7.98) (ranked 3 by me, 5 overall), 1971 Corton-Charlemagne, Bonneau du Martray ($10.98) (5, 2), 1970 Château de Fuisse Pouilly-Fuisse ($11.00) (4, 4), 1970 Chevalier-Montrachet, Henri Clerc ($15.00) (1, 1), 1971 Chablis Blanchots, Albert Pic ($7.98) (2, 3), and a 1969 Freemark Abbey Pinot Chardonnay ($7.29) (6, 6).
From the compiled notes: "All were excellent, and the ranking reflects not so much the quality as merely our individual tastes." Eleven days later, the seventh annual banquet of the DHMBVF was held at Maxim's in Chicago. The five-course dinner included pate en cruts and Billi Bi with Korbel Natural, Veau Perigourdine with 1967 Château Branaire-Ducru, a cheese course with a 1964 Vosne-Romanée, and a croquembouche with 1971 Rieussec all for $33.75 per person inclusive.
The group thrived into the 1970s after which it dissolved as members finished school and started careers.
Between 1969 and 1979, I compiled 450 detailed notes of fine wines I drank, several more than once. The range of vintages was 1882 to 1975. In addition to the vintage and name of the wine, producer, importer or distributor, purchase price and date tasted, there were tasting notes. For a while, I could name the wine when someone read me the description; it was a talent that impressed many dinner guests over the decades.
Bringing it up to date
I wondered whether I could still afford to drink some of the fabulous wines I did as a graduate student on limited funds. Being of the nerdish persuasion, I entered the data from the notebooks into an Excel workbook, calculated elementary statistics and did analysis. The sample selected for study included only 700- and 750-ml bottles and an occasional smaller bottle of dessert wine, purchased at a liquor store, and not in a restaurant, for which prices were recorded. I also eliminated duplicates in most cases.
The then-year prices of these 348 wines ranged from $1.79 to $85 with an average price of $7.96. France was the source of 194 bottles; Germany, 97; US, 29; Portugal, 17; Hungary,five; Spain,three; Italy, two; and Argentina one. I then looked up each of the wines in my sample on Wine-Searcher.
The current average prices of the 92 that were still available ranged from $33.89 to $3755 with an average price of $577.65. I also looked up current average prices for all 348 wines for the vintage that is the same number of years before 2020 as the vintage of the wine consumed between 1969 and 1979, so that it would be an equivalent age. For example, if a 1962 vintage was drunk in 1976 when it was 14 years old, I looked up the average price of the 2006 vintage, or one close to it if that one wasn't obtainable. There were 105 wines that had more recent vintages available at the same age as what I had in the 1970s, ranging from $6 to $2598 with an average price of $202.57.
To determine affordability, I analyzed the prices paid for wines in my collection, which comprises Oregon Pinot Noirs and other varieties, other wines from the Pacific Northwest, some California bottles, Burgundies, grower Champagnes and a few other European wines. As of May 1, 2020, there were 326 unique bottlings for which I paid $9.14 to $142.50 with an average price of $44.64.
Of the 92 wines I drank between 1969 and 1979 still available, only 17 are under $142.50 including Château Coutet ($88), 1962 Château Carbonnieux Blanc ($91), 1971 Rauenthaler Baiken Spätlese ($91), 1970 Château Gruaud-Larose ($114), and 1967 Château Calon-Ségur ($142). Undoubtedly, some of these wines are well passed prime or even totally expired. Buying them could ruin a happy memory like seeing someone you might have had a crush on in high school at your 50th reunion who didn't age well.
For example, I'd worry about the '62 Carbonnieux Blanc, which was already declining when I had it in October 1973 ("fades rapidly in the glass, souring within 45 mins of opening"). On the other hand, I suspect the ravishing 1959 Steinberger Trockenbeerenauslese ($85 in 1977, $3610 in 2020) would still have much beauty enhanced by wisdom to share. I'll never know.
Success is virtually assured with recent vintages, though many will require years of cellaring. Of the 105 wines, 70 are less than $142.50, including 2016 Beringer Cabernet Sauvignon, 2005 Gran Coronas Black Label, 2017 Château Carbonnieux Blanc, 2017 Prüm Wehlener Sonnenuhr Spätlese, 2007 Poças Junior Vintage Port, 2007 Château La Tour Blanche, 2004 J Hudelot Chambolle Musigny, 2012 Veuve Clicquot-Ponsardin Brut, 2017 Guy Robin Chablis Valmur, 2015 Dujac Morey Saint-Denis, 1983 Ramos Pinto Port, and 2001 Château Montrose.
This study was originally done for a presentation to the annual meeting of the American Association of Wine Economists that was to be held this month in Verona and has been postponed to 2021. It is the latest opportunity for me to combine two loves, wine and mathematics. While it is likely that I would have eventually discovered fine wine under other circumstances, I remain indebted to he who first poured me the good stuff.
Thank you, John.
June 28, 2020 at 07:01AM
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The Cost of Drinking Wine History - Wine-Searcher
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