'...Besides, the '47 Cheval is not a wine that someone contrived to make; it is a wine that essentially made itself, a point that Pierre Lurton, Cheval Blanc's current director...'

i'm not wine head, but the article was great. it sounds as if grapes are like bluesmen. the dues must be paid.

it just so happens that 1947 is the year the king of the blues, Mr. Chester A. Burnett was doing his finest work.

sounds yummy too. chocolate, plums and flowers. hmmmmm. good!!

I concur wholeheartedly. I know little of wine, but this article was very well-written. The final paragraph in particular was simply a great ending that fit the tone of the piece perfectly, and I walked away feeling like I had just read a great short story. Good show.

Beautiful article; but entirely too much passion, too much obvious delight. Mike Steinberger should be reassigned to making wine pairings for truck-stop meals along the entire length of I-95, so that we Frayers can feel a little better about our jobs.

I agree that this was richly written. He has a poetry in his use of language that is excellent.

But was the wine really that good?

Well, that's hard to say. I'm a very minor, beginning winehead. I've learned that yes, sometimes the difference between two different vintages can be illogically enormous -- while one can be dry, light and aromatic, its kin from two years later on the same vines can taste like soured grape Kool-Aid. Obviously, the 47 Cheval's reputation comes from somewhere and its greatness is acknowledged by wine experts. Having said that, did the author taste the wine, or did he taste its reputation -- would the '47 still be the best wine he ever tasted if he hadn't known he was drinking the famous '47 Cheval?

When I was in my 20s I dated a woman who's beauty and demeanor had captivated me since I was in high school. You know what? She wasn't as great as her reputation. I hope I'm wrong, but there's no way to know without spending several thousand I don't have to crack a bottle of the stuff.

I agree wholeheartedly that this article reeks of passion for a timecapsule issued to the future in 1947. I have not had the pleasure of tasting the Cheval Blanc but I've opened the '43, '47, and '49 Ch. Margaux which had languished in the cellar of the Madison Hotel in Washington, DC. until 1982 when King Khalid of Saudi Arabia flew his 747 to DC for medical treatments at Johns Hopkins. His entourage occupied three floors of the hotel and he had a double suite replete with arcade games. A certain British member of his staff had a penchant for dining night after night in our premier dining room the Montpelier by himself. Each night he would order the most precious bottle on our list. This nightly ritual continued for over a month and he vitually wiped out the oldest treasures from Bordeaux and Romanee-Conti. He would never finish the bottles by himself so there was always leftovers that I would savour. It is highly unusual that someone would dine for a solid month in their hotel and charge it to their room. One evening he came in and was ushered to his regular table by the window and he ordered a glass of the house wine which was Franzia by the magnum. I asked the Maitre D' Emmanuelle to call an ambulance as our guest was losing his wits. Evidently the King had received the bill for his exploits and was not amused.....Sadly King Khalid died a month later from a heart attack and the party was over....

The other thing this article reminds me of is in the ludicrous movie Sideways when Niles complains about Cabernet Franc and then later pops his prize bottle of Cheval Blanc in desperation which was mainly Cab. Franc. That movie still irks me on so many levels....

Lastly, Howlin' Wolf is the real deal AKA Chester Burnett.

Bernie Bearnaise