Label Memoir III

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I used to have a Lynch-Bages addiction.

It was a good way to access great Bordeaux, because they bottle, what, maybe 20K cases of wine every year? And it has terroir. And once you drink it you don’t forget it. Wine from specific dirt is the only kind of wine.

My last drink of Lynch-Bages was disappointing. It might have been a 2000. A stupid, fat, monolithic, highly touted vintage, replete with simple alcohol and primary fruit flavors, like coconuts grown in a lab. Also, the entirety of Bordeaux tipped into whoreishness in the 90s.

I bought most of these on auction, mostly from the Chicago Wine Company. The prices were about $100 a bottle. I drove an old Lincoln Town Car that cost $5000. Rent was $125. Organic chickens were $1.99 a pound for backs and necks. Art was free. A pity.

The 1989 and 1982 were the best. Aristocratic, velvety, dense, elegant. They had a way of surpassing all other wine drinking experiences,. If I closed my eyes, the flavors seemed like some three-dimensional volume, specifically like interiors of grand architecture, with the details of various materials and shapes.

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