Is this book worth its salt and vinegar?

Is this book worth its salt and vinegar?
This book is all about excess. Money apparently so easily made, competing with excessive wealth by demanding attention in a bidding war for the unreal: Reads like a whodunit. Fascinating. There are some chilling similarities to Bernie Madoff’s Ponzi scheme.

The Billionaire’s Vinegar: The Mystery of the World’s Most Expensive Bottle of Wine, Benjamin Wallace, Crown Publishers, New York, N.Y., 2008.

In this fascinating book the author brings together some truly unique characters: the ghost of Thomas Jefferson, wine lover and aspiring vintner, Meinhard Görke, a.k.a. Hardy Rodenstock, supposedly world-famous wine collector, merchant and organizer of over-the-top bacchanalian feast featuring ever older first-growth wines from Bordeaux, Ralf Frenzel, his sommelier-sidekick always fiercely guarding the corks pulled from the “priceless” bottles, a coterie of followers: Herr Pétrus, Mr. Cheval Blanc, Mr. Yquem, wine collectors from the world over, their money chasing opportunity, Michael Broadbent, world-renown expert on old wines and head of Christie’s wine auction department, auctioneer with the unique distinction of selling the highest-priced bottle of wine ever, at $156,000, bearing the initials “Th.J”, purported to be Thomas Jefferson.

This book is all about excess. Money apparently so easily made, competing with excessive wealth by demanding attention in a bidding war for the unreal:

Wines “found” in a walled-in cellar of a 18th Century Parisian house about to be demolished. Rodenstock, the German wine lover and merchant, just happened to be so lucky to be the only one to whom the lot was offered. The wine world could have paid attention to the fact that if such a historical treasure was found, the owner would undoubtedly be aware of its value and solicit bids. None of this happened, because Rodenstock just happened to be the one, and only one, with access to the owner. “But wait, there is more…” this well-worn phrase just about sums up the story which, with the benefit of hindsight, appears now as nothing but a fabrication: ever more ancient wine magically appearing, more greed, more covetousness, ever-higher prices, more bidders, more opinions as to the authenticity, more elaborate Rodenstock-by-invitation-only dinners featuring Pétrus, among others, from ancient vintages in bottle sizes Christian Moueix, current owner of Ch. Pétrus, doubted ever existed.

Michael Broadbent, world-renown authority on wine and head of Christie’s auction house, seemed to bestow authenticity by including that famous lot 337, offering wine that, by all appearances, might still be drinkable after almost 200 years. The wine had extraordinarily high fill levels for a wine of its age, attributed to a constant temperature in the hermetically sealed underground vault. Since Thomas Jefferson was living in Paris from 1784 to 1789, speculation that this bottle may have been his gave rise to an “inestimable” value. In a bidding war, Christopher “Kip” Forbes, son of Malcolm Forbes, won the lot at the highest price ever paid for a bottle of wine: £75,000. It is an absolute mystery why no one solicited the opinion of the Thomas Jefferson archives: they doubted the authenticity of association with Jefferson all along.

Hardy Rodenstock

But there really is more: Rodenstock’s treasure trove produced ever more of the rarest of wines dating back to the waning 18th Century. His “Midas touch” produced access to caches in Russia, smuggled to Germany with the help of a Lufthansa employee. Another “discovery” was made in Venezuela. Allegedly $1 million was paid for the cellar containing wines experts doubted were ever sold to Venezuela.

The members of Rodenstock’s quasi-fanatical following tried to outdo each other in “mega-tasting mania.” On what seemed almost weekly basis, seriously expensive “best of“ tastings were held, where each member had to produce the best bottle of his cellar. These events finally became spectacles where guests had to dress up in period costumes. At an earlier event, Christian Moueix, requested to see a cork of a bottle of 1921 Pétrus, Ralf Frenzel, the sommelier replied with a brusque Nein!

Over time, Rodenstock’s inner circle began nursing suspicions. Little by little, even his  ardent supporters grew suspicious and abandoned him. Hans-Peter Frericks, member of the inner circle,  was the first to openly challenged the authenticity of the wines. Some of the wine writers who attended his many tastings backtracked, some did not. Robert Parker stuck to his original 1995 opinion: “the wines I tasted were great wines–real or fake.”

Rodenstock sold his ancient wines, among others, to a U.S. collector, Bill Koch, of America’s Cup sailing fame. Koch also grew suspicious, and he wanted revenge. He hired a team of investigators and sued. His investigators found Rodenstock’s apartment in Munich, a duplex where Andreas Klein, his landlord lived as well. Rodenstock was a fussy tenant with no compunction about his noise emissions, but complaining loudly about others’. Klein thought his tenant was an amateur carpenter, a strange hobby for an internationally famous wine merchant. After the estranged parties sued each other, Rodenstock moved out and Klein found stacks of unused wine labels, corks, dozens of old wine bottles, and a mound of dirt covered in mold. Apparently, Rodenstock was boxing up “his” wines, not making furniture.

Koch vowed to pursue this perpetrator of fakes, no matter what the price.

Reads like a whodunit. Fascinating. There are some chilling similarities to Bernie Madoff’s Ponzi scheme. Read it for your love of wine, or read it for what Germans call der Krimi, but read it, you must.

JürgO

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