To my surprise, the wine displayed no trace of the dull or shrill character one might expect of a sham bottle. It lacked some concentration, but that’s not unusual for a wine that has existed for more than a half-century. The wine did not taste fake.
In fact, the red showed a pleasing degree of the distinctive spice for which La Tâche is famous. At the risk of trying to describe the indescribable, this scent and taste—which I’ve found only in certain bottles of La Tâche—translate to an amalgam of licorice, soy sauce, beet, and tilled soil.
Another factor in the wine’s favor was its silky texture. One of the hallmarks of great Burgundy—or any special pinot noir for that matter—is a smooth, powdery feel that coats the mouth. The sensation did not linger here as long as it has in some epic wines, but there was an unmistakable satiny mouthfeel at play.
Had a La Tâche of a lesser vintage been substituted for the mythic 1962? Maybe the wine’s taste was helped by the fact that we wine lovers are optimistic. If a bottle fails to live up to our initial expectations, we hope that an odd aroma will blow off and that the bottle will “come around.” We happily drained the La Tâche, not totally convinced it was a fabrication.
This article was provided by Bloomberg News.