Desert Island Dinner: 1961 Pomerol in Excelsis

BY NEAL MARTIN | JUNE 18, 2024

What’s your desert island tasting?

Where would it take place, and most importantly, who would you share it with?

Your nearest and dearest? Then again, would they appreciate the wines? Perhaps it is better to open them with your closest ‘oeno-buddies’, or since we’re dealing with fantasy, you could invite celebrities, past or present. Imagine hosting a vertical for Sir Winston Churchill, Jay-Z, David Beckham, Orson Welles and Jesus, all partial to the joys of fermented grape juice. Not sure if they’d fit around my kitchen table, but the conversation would certainly be fascinating, and they could fight over who does the washing up.

The Hong Kong skyline.

I have been privileged to participate in a number of astonishing once-in-a-lifetime tastings throughout my career. The one that I’ve long dreamt about is a horizontal of 1961 Pomerols that included the holy trinity: Latour à Pomerol, Lafleur and Petrus. I’ve drunk two of those three, but my solitary encounter with the fabled 1961 Lafleur turned out to be Rioja, not even good Rioja at that. I’ll check my Pomerol tome, but I’m sure the Robin sisters never planted Tempranillo.

Then, last September, I took a trip to my desert island. It was not in the South Pacific, though I guess it was in that direction. Rather, I was in a cab en route to an apartment up in the Peak District of Hong Kong, where a renowned and munificent English oenophile with a cellar that takes a lifetime to assemble was about to host a dinner that had me salivating for weeks. The main event comprised no less than seven 1961 Pomerols, and yes, it included the aforementioned trinity. In a week bejeweled with astonishing tastings, I confess that this was the one I was anticipating most. Why? Well, authoring a book on Pomerol inevitably fomented an affinity for the appellation. Plus, I mused upon the fact that it constitutes one of the last occasions when these wines will gather within the same four walls. Even if you have the financial means, they rarely appear for sale nowadays. Ask the château to open one? I know for a fact that most of them do not possess a single bottle since this was an era when they had to sell every last one. Another factor is provenance. Foretold the origin of some of the bottles ups the ante even further and renders some of them unique. It meant that the odds were stacked in our favor in terms of them showing their best because experience has taught me how these wines can be variable. I’ve had my share of misfires, but surely TCA would spare us this auspicious occasion, wouldn’t it?

I don’t need to remind you that 1961 is one of the most revered vintages of the last century. Thanks to a mild winter, flowering was three weeks earlier than normal, around May 20, before frost on the night of May 30/31, acted as a natural, if ruthless, means of slashing yields, especially for the Merlot. The remainder of the season was hot and dry, particularly in August, which witnessed drought-like conditions, with the mercury reaching 30°C into September. It meant that sunlight channeled its energy on fewer bunches, predicating concentrated and structured wines predestined for longevity. Keep in mind, this was only five years after the devastating January freeze of 1956 that froze exposed vines to their core and killed countless. Pomerol’s cold clay soils, plus its lack of proximity to the temperature-regulating effect of the Gironde Estuary, meant that it was impacted more than other appellations and necessitated widespread planting. So, despite their reputation, a proportion of these wines would have come from vines in their third or fourth leaf, with the exception of Petrus since Mme. Loubat could not countenance uprooting them. She took a risk and folded the cane back into the soil, known as provignage, hoping they would spring back to life. They did.