The Famous Five at 21

At a recent private dinner and tasting of the celebrated 2005 vintage, Raymond Blake got the opportunity of assessing the ’famous five’ First Growths of the Bordeaux 1855 classification in a
near-perfect setting

The Bordeaux ‘First Growths’ enjoy a level of renown and worldwide visibility that sets them apart from almost all other prestige wines, Burgundy’s finest grands crus excepted. It is thanks to their ranking at the top in the Bordeaux Classification of 1855 that they have been able to cement their position, decade after decade, as primus inter pares amongst a host of other prestigious, neighbouring châteaux. Yet it is often forgotten that the 1855 classification was simply one in a succession of châteaux rankings that were drawn up regularly to assist the trade, a handy reference work as it were, letting them know relative standings and values of the numerous châteaux they with.

What is written in stone today was open to change in 1855. Indeed, it was changed almost immediately, with the addition the following year of Château Cantemerle as a fifth growth, following an irate response from the then owner Caroline de Villeneuve at being overlooked originally. (Thus it is often erroneously stated that Mouton Rothschild’s elevation to first growth in 1973 is the only change ever made to the classification.)

But what of the ‘famous five’? Are they really worthy of the high praise they seem to garner effortlessly year after year? Do otherwise clear-eyed critics genuflect in their presence? Might the emperor’s clothes sometimes look a little threadbare?

A recent private dinner hosted by a generous friend afforded me the opportunity of assessing all five in a near-perfect setting – and from a celebrated vintage now approaching its prime. It was the 2005, of which noted Bordeaux authority, Jane Anson, has this to say in her magisterial work, Inside Bordeaux: “One of the greatest vintages of the past 50 years, with near-perfect weather conditions across the region… easily my favourite vintage of the past few decades.”

My conclusion? When on song the first growths are truly worthy of the renown in which they are held. They have also become more consistent in recent years, which was not always the case. Additionally, they are now so well resourced that they can deal with whatever depredations mother nature throws at them, where others might struggle to wrest acceptable quality from a challenging growing season. Thus their supremacy becomes almost self-perpetuating, as they invest and re-invest so as to copper-fasten their status at the top of the pile. That said, they should always deliver top quality even in challenging vintages and in others they should regularly be superlative benchmarks.

And my favourites from 2005? Apart from a slightly reticent Latour, all were magnificent but if pushed to choose I’d say Margaux and Lafite, in that order. I approached this tasting dinner with keen anticipation. I was not disappointed.

Château Lafite Rothschild
In some respects Lafite might be considered the most renowned of the first growths, yet my own experience with older vintages such as 1979, 1983, 1985 and even the storied 1990 (drunk during lunch at the château) was satisfactory rather than special. The earth didn’t move. The 2000 vintage changed all that thanks to a wine of remarkable quality, an essay in harmony and balance, supported by an underlying, restrained power. The high proportion of Cabernet Sauvignon, at a tad over 93%, was barely perceptible, so elegant was the fruit. Only about one-third of the total production went into the grand vin that year, which resulted in a wine that Michael Broadbent rated as: “Great wine with a long life ahead.” Though delivered in March 2001, there can be no disagreeing with that assessment.

2005 “A scented beauty!” was the first exultant note I scribbled having taken my first enquiring sniff of this glorious wine. Every element – fruit, acid, tannin, alcohol – was there in balanced and beautifully integrated measure. “Not a hair out of place,” I continued. In truth, this was claret at its finest: harmonious, savoury and long. A glorious evocation of all that is great about Bordeaux.

Château Mouton Rothschild
Mouton’s story is the most fascinating of the quintet, for the simple reason that it was not included as a first growth in the original classification, only being elevated into the exalted pantheon in 1973. This was after a protracted, decades-long campaign by Baron Philippe de Rothschild who took control of the château in 1922, aged just 20. Prior to 1973 the motto was: Premier ne puis, second ne daigne, Mouton suis. (First I cannot be. Second I do not deign to be. Mouton I am.) This was immediately changed to: Premier je suis, Second je fus, Mouton ne change. (First I am. Second I was. Mouton does not change.) A white wine, Aile d’Argent, made principally from Sauvignon Blanc and Sémillon, has been produced since 1991 and has gained some plaudits, though it has always struck me as overpriced for what it delivers.

2005 Abundant blackcurrant on the nose and palate was this wine’s dominant signature, though that is not to say it was one-dimensional, far from it. Supporting the dark fruit was a panoply of other flavours that ranged from cedar and tobacco to mild spice and coffee, all wrapped in a notably plump, full and fleshy texture. This was no shrinking violet, in short, this was abundance made wine.

Château Margaux
For sheer, unalloyed beauty it is not possible to look past Margaux, making it the queen to Latour’s king, and inviting comparisons with some of Burgundy’s finest grands crus. The château itself is probably the most photographed in all Bordeaux, usually from a distance and through the wrought-iron gates that guard the entrance. Off to one side is the new winery and cellars, designed by Norman Foster and opened in 2015. Oak and stainless steel vats of varying capacities allow for rigorous control of the fermentations on a plot-by-plot basis. Margaux has also been making a white wine – Pavillon Blanc – since long before it became fashionable for Médoc châteaux to do so, and it is a wine of rare breed and age-ability. And – to add a quirky footnote – Ernest Hemingway’s granddaughter changed her name from ‘Margot’ to ‘Margaux’ when she discovered her parents were drinking Château Margaux the night she was conceived.

2005 A near-faultless wine that invited, and responded to repeated swirling and sniffing, before tasting, delivering a seemingly infinitearray of beguiling scents and aromas. If anything, the palate exceeded the nose in attraction and conviction. It was gentle and elegant with a satin texture – a testament to the ability of the late and much-lamented Paul Pontallier. What a testament.

Château Latour
The king of the first growths is surely Latour, for none of the other quartet are quite as commanding and magisterial. As I write this the memory of a magnum of the 1959 still burns bright with its extraordinary structure, depth and length. Approaching its half-century it was fully mature without showing any of the frailty of age. That is the essence of Latour – a near-limitless capacity to develop for decade after decade with little sign of decline until pensionable age. More recently, in 2011, the château made the headlines across the wine world when it announced that it was leaving the en primeur system and would only release each vintage perhaps a decade after production. It could be said with a fair degree of accuracy that the system has been dying a slow death ever since.

2005 On the night, this was something of an underperformer and all the tasters wondered if it was still too young to, “sing in full throated ease”, as John Keats might have put it. Where the others were all forthcoming, this seemed reticent and despite much swirling and time in the glass it never blossomed as might be expected. Would another decade in the cellar yield a more expressive wine? It was hard to tell.

Château Haut-Brion
With a history that stretches back some five centuries, to 1533 when the estate was founded by Jean de Pontac, Haut-Brion can rightly claim to be the daddy of the first growths. It was served to celebrate the restoration of King Charles II in 1660 and Samuel Pepys referenced it in his diary three years later: “a sort of French wine called Ho Bryan”. For consistency and what might be called ‘unobtrusive satisfaction’ it is hard to beat Haut-Brion. There is such glorious reserve that it is easy to lose sight of in a world awash with look-at-me wines. And an added attraction is that it usually trades at a price noticeably below its Médoc cousins, certain vintages such as the 1989 excepted. Some wines challenge. Some wines comfort. Haut- Brion comforts – and then some.

2005 This wine brought great memories of the 1995 (of which I managed to buy a case) flooding back. Remarkable harmony and gentle savour were its twin calling cards before the smooth texture eased into a lingering finish. There was some flesh to cloak the firmer elements, though no fat. Incredibly satisfying and not in any way shouty. A lesson in understatement that many others the world over would do well to note.