I had a profound, 38-year-old wine at dinner last night. It was harvested the year of Woodstock. 1969. That’s a long time ago.
And if you can believe it, it was an American wine.
And if you can believe it one more time, it was the best American Cabernet Sauvignon that I have ever had.
The wine: The 1969 Chappellet Cabernet.
The wine maker: Philip Togni.
The occasion: our 34th anniversary.
The dinner: Served with grilled, butterflied leg of lamb, with side dishes of roasted Yukon gold potatoes, sautéed broccoli rabe, and roasted yellow beets.
I first discovered the existence of this magical elixir two years ago, reading a commentary penned by Robert Parker Jr., the world’s most influential wine critic. Here’s what he said about the 1969 Chappellet:
I want to acknowledge a wine Philip Togni produced early in his career at Chappellet, the 1969 Cabernet Sauvignon. Recently, one of my dearest friends, Dr. Jay Miller, was feting his 60th birthday, and brought a bottle of this wine along with a collection of profound museum pieces.
Togni’s ‘69 may be one of the greatest California Cabernet Sauvignons I have ever tasted.
Every bottle I have had seems to get better and better. This 36-year-old wine tastes like a 14- or 15-year-old adolescent except for the extraordinary soaring aromatics of crème de cassis, spice box, incense, and cedar. In the mouth, it’s gorgeously fresh, full-bodied, super-concentrated, and revealing no signs of age. It is both a monument to California Cabernet Sauvignon and an homage to a feisty British-born winemaker who continues to turn out some of the world’s most interesting wines.
I made several end runs on Philip Togni and the Chappellet family to buy a bottle at any price, figuring that as a serious wine writer, I should have, at least once in my life, a chance to experience this Cabernet zenith, to taste “one of the greatest California Cabernet Sauvignons” that Robert Parker Jr. has ever tasted. I mean, this guy tastes a lot of wine. If this wine stands out in his mind like a California red wood in a briar patch – I want to experience it!
In my opinion, British-born Philip Togni is one of the top winemakers in California, and by extension, in America. (Hate to be Napacentric, but that’s just the way it goes.) Having studied enology at Bordeaux and Montpelier, Philip made wine in Beaujolais, Alsace and even Algeria before landing on his feet at Chateau Lascombes, a Margaux grand cru vineyard in Bordeaux.
Having come to Napa Valley by way of Chile, Philip made a series of sensational wines at Mayacamas, Inglenook, Sterling, and Chalone. In 1968, Philip became winemaker at Chappellet, which is where our story resumes.
After reading Parker’s notes two years ago, I called Philip at his eponymous winery on Spring Mountain, about 6 miles north of, and 2000 feet above, St. Helena. Having interviewed Philip many times before, and having bought his wine every year for the past 15 years, it was an easy call.
“Philip, do you have any of the 1969 Chappellet in your own cellar? I am prepared to buy a bottle at any price. Or consider this: Carol and I would welcome you and your family to dinner in our home and we will open any wine in our cellar in exchange for your bringing the 1969 Chappellet, which we will open and enjoy with you.”
He said no, but he let me down gently. He used two words when he could have been curt and used one: “No deal.”
“I have the wine in my cellar, but it is too rare and I will not sell a single bottle,” Philip explained.
A few months later, I tried an end-run on the Togni household, speaking to Birgitta, Philip’s wife. I pleaded with her to sell a bottle.
“1969 was our daughter Lisa’s birth year (she helps Philip make wine these years) and we take a bottle out of our last remaining case each year on her birthday. We cannot justify selling a bottle,” said Birgitta.
I asked her how the 1969 was drinking. This was two years ago.
In her lyrical accent: “Like a baby! You can’t really imagine, Jim, how young this wine tastes. It’s still young – like a recent vintage! It easily can mature another 25 or 35 years!” Which only made me want to taste this elusive Cabernet even more.
So then I turned to the Chappellet clan to see if I might wrest a bottle from their library. Chappellet, which, early on, was called “the most remarkable wine cathedral of the modern world,” by British wine writer Hugh Johnson, is located on the east side of Napa Valley, on a promontory called Pritchard Hill. It was here, in 1969, that Philip made his best-ever wine and that of Chappellet.
So I made end-runs on the Chappellet family, trying to secure a bottle.
Donn, the patriarch, said No.
Mollie, his ever-accommodating wife, said No.
Even his jovial and always pleasant son, Cyril, said No.
I was starting to feel the frustration. I checked my best wine sources, in New York, Sonoma, London. I checked auction houses. I asked local winemaker friends to dig deep into their cellars to see if any one of them had a bottle for trade, for dollars, for sharing, for this story.
In the end, I failed to secure a bottle.
But never underestimate the power of a woman. Especially my wife, Carol, who knew that I so badly wanted to taste this wine. She made it a point in her own life to secure a bottle for my 60th birthday last year.
Some how, some way, for some reason, she was able to get Cyril Chappellet to part with a bottle of this very rare and prized wine from his personal cellar. I do not know the terms of this trade and I hesitate to ask what they were!
I was given the wine last summer on my 60th birthday, surrounded by our children and Carol and was so overwhelmed by the extravagance and originality of this gift, that I actually broke into tears. The family had caught me completely off-guard, unprepared for a gift of this stature and rarity.
And so, you are thinking to yourself, “let’s get to the good stuff. What about the wine? Was it any good at 38 years of age?”
Well, without intending to plagiarize Birgitta Togni, but fully doing so, all I can say is, “It’s still a baby!”
I opened and decanted the wine an hour before grilling the leg of lamb. It perfumed our Grand Room (with many of the doors and windows fully open!) with purplish aromas of cassis and black currant (which one expects from a Bordeaux Cab, but rarely from a New World Cab). If anything, the aroma reminded me of a serious, and seriously old, St. Estephe (Bordeaux appellation) red.
The color of the wine was dark and inky red; the color of Plantagenet Kings’ robes. Impressive and commanding respect.
On the nose, the wine possessed a complex array of top notes – near-currant scents mellowed with unctuous forest notes.
On the first sip, I knew I was tasting History. And probably the best American Cabernet that I have ever had. The wine possessed a gorgeous, focused core of black currant fruit, diffused with herbs, cedar, reddish, almost rusty fruit, briar, cinnamon and old barrel flavors. This was not just a stunning wine; this was a stunningly young wine! In a blind tasting, you would never guess that it was 38-years-old. Or that it was American.
One of the reasons you would be fooled into thinking this was a French Cabernet-based wine: there was none of that scratch-your-eyes-out high alcohol and forward fruit that are the hallmarks of young Napa Valley Cabs. In fact, the alcohol level of the Chappellet was a refreshingly low 12%!
One of the more impressive qualities of this wine was its texture. Wine writers rarely comment on this, probably because so few wines, especially young wines on which they mostly comment, have anything textural to write home about. But this old Chappellet had a palpable texture. With every swallow, there were soft, lush, warm tannins coating your cheeks. The wine left a sort of footprint with each sip.
Throughout the course of dinner, the decanted wine just got better. The flavors suffused, warped into new layers of complexity and on every swallow there was a sweet, broad and expansive textural element; it was like drinking velour.
From the technical side, it is worth noting that 1969 was a great year for grapes in Napa Valley, probably the best harvest since World War II. But how many great wines were made that year? How many are still being cellared and treasured? And how many opened today would reveal the nuances, complexity and youthfulness that Philip Togni’s 1969 Chappellet did last night? If they’re out there, I don’t know what they are or who owns them. If you find out, drop me a line.
A post script, ten days later: I drove up Spring Mountain this afternoon to pick up my allotment of 2004 Togni Cabs, which I had purchased last year. It's one of my favorite annual pilgrimages each spring -- to drive up Spring Mountain to see the Togni family, pick up their newly released wines and taste, from barrel, what will be offered as the next vintage release in September.
I mentioned to Philip that I had tasted his 1969 Chappellet achievement only two weeks ago and he added some valuable commentary:
"We produced 17 barrels of Cabernet that year. This made about 400 cases in total. I don't suppose many of these bottles are left. Most people probably toted them off to barbecues early on in the wine's life."
Philip also had a telling comment on the youth of the vines that produced the 1969 Chappellet Cab: "The vines, planted in 1964, were only five years old when we made this wine. So it's rather an atypical wine -- we always expect the big, long-lasting wines to be made with old vine fruit, not from vines so young."
Rather curiously, according to Philip, the vines were suffering from leaf roll virus in 1969. "It was the last year that they produced magnificent fruit. Each successive year -- 1970, 1971, 1972 -- the vines produced less concentrated fruit and by the mid 70s they had to be ripped out."
I asked Philip: Of all the wines that he has made since 1969, which vintage under his own label might have close to the ageing potential of the 1969 Chappellet? "The 1991 Togni Cabernet. It's odd that this wine might also have a 40-year life expectancy, given that it contains 15 percent Merlot. But it is such a balanced wine that it may actually give the Chappellet a run for its money!"
Now that's a race at which I'd like to be around to judge!