1945 Yquem

Very dark brownish amber. Rich and layered. Incredibly sweet, then bitter and citrus peel. Oxford marmalade? Apricot compote. Very dense. Clean and very long. Some light bitterness. Crème pâtissière. Got better and better in the glass. (JR)

Bought from Hugh Johnson's cellar. The richest, most historic sort of burnt orange marmalade essence. (JR)

Served from an ex-chateau bottle. As the old saying goes: there are perfect bottles but not perfect wines. True. But there is absolutely no question that this was a perfect bottle of Sauternes. The 1945 Chateau d’Yquem got off to an inauspicious start when a rare frost (-2 degrees) on May 2 miraculously only affected two or three leaves at the top of the vine and left the nascent buds unscathed. Chateau records detail that the 1945 was picked during six pickings that spanned six weeks from Monday to Saturday. It would seem that observance of the Sabbath led to God’s blessing upon the resulting wines. Harvest commenced on September 9 (after 41mm of rainfall on August 29 provoked widespread botrytis) and finished on October 20. The 1945 Yquem is loaded with 164 grams per liter residual sugar with 4.41 grams per liter total acidity, but statistics are a moot point. Do not let its tawny port appearance put you off. The bouquet is so ridiculously delineated and pure that it will make any other Sauternes within its ambit look ordinary. The aromas race from the glass: Seville orange marmalade, quince, wilted rose petals and an old antique bureau. The palate is perfection. The balance is extraordinary, the acidity effortlessly slicing through the candied orange peel and quince notes, a subtle saline tang delivered on the shimmering, crystalline finish. Returning to the bottle two hours later it has lost absolutely none of its energy. I might one day drink a Sauternes equal to the 1945 Yquem, but I will never drink a Sauternes that is better. Drink now-2040+. Tasted March 2014.