Uncovering a case of Moulin des Carraudes, the second label of Chateau Lafite Rothschild. Past its prime time but once out of hibernation a lovely wine.

France: Carraudes de Lafite

Carraudes de Lafite is the second label of Chateau Lafite-Rothschild, and even though it sells for considerably less money than its aristocratic cousin, it certainly has the right pedigree.

Almost all Bordeaux estates produce second labels, usually made from younger vines. While they might not have the concentration and depth, or aging ability, of the primary label, they accurately reflect the winemaking style of each chateau. They vary in quality, of course, but the most recognizable names—they usually cost a half or even a fraction of the price of the top label—are usually very good wines for the money.

Chateau Latour makes Les Forts de Latour; Haut-Brion, another legendary name, makes Bahans-Haut-Brion; Pichon-Longueville-Comtesse de Lalande makes Reserve de la Comtesse; Chateau Margaux, makes Pavillion Rouge de Chateau Margaux. You can find more than 250 secondary labels in Bordeaux, as well as an array of vintages, but only a handful of these might be imported and available. While the first label has a unique star status, the second label has to compete against good wines from around the world.

I bought a case of 1977 Moulin des Carruades (which was its name prior to the 1980s) when it was released in 1979 or so. I did not exactly misplace it, but for most of those years, while the traditional wood crate served as a base for other boxes, I thought it was empty—just a piece of cellar furniture.

I finally woke up and realized I had a dozen bottles of serious Bordeaux. The only problem was that I might have dozed through their prime time. The 1977 vintage was good, but not distinguished, so I did not expect it would have the longevity of the great nearby vintages of 1978 or 1982. But, as Cervantes said in Don Quixote, the proof of the pudding is in the eating—I can’t figure out why this useful expression has been debased in our time to the nonsensical “the proof is in the pudding.”—or in this case, in the drinking.

I opened a bottle for an audition. The color was a bit tawny, something to be expected in an old red wine, and not an indicator of quality. The aroma initially seemed old and musty, making me think that some of the fruit qualities had faded. There seemed no point in letting wine breathe, which I think is a questionable practice anyway; a wine like this could quickly deteriorate. And I could see no sediment so I dispensed with decanting.

The wine needed, I discovered, a few minutes in the glass to come out of hibernation, for the fruit to recover and a luscious, mellow personality to come forward. It was indeed a lovely Bordeaux, reflecting the nuanced winemaking style of that period.

I’ve read that Michael Broadbent, once head of wine auctions at Christie’s, said that Lafite, more than other wines, evolves in the glass. Could this be true of Lafite’s second label as well?

You won’t see much Moulin des Carraudes around in wine stores or at online merchants. The 1982 shows up here and there, priced upwards of a $1,000 a case. Its successor, Carraudes de Lafite, is readily available, and recent vintages sell from about $35 to $75.

I’m thinking about buying some; if I do, I plan to stick fluorescent Post-Its on the caps saying “drink me now.”