The Borrowed Penguin Wine Review

The Village of the Big Boy Vineyards

My visit at Pillot was a bit shorter than initially planned, in part because I then had to rush all the way to other end of the Cote d’Or for a visit at Domaine Lamarche in Vosne-Romanee. My exact schedule was still changing even during the final week before I departed, and literally a few days before I left I asked one of my suppliers if it was possible to arrange for a visit at a particular Burgundy house (to be named later). A flurry of contact followed, but the basic premise is this: the importer who handles the winery actually had a group going through Burgundy on the first day I was there and would welcome me to any of their visits. My schedule was already set in some ways, but I decided to squeeze in two extra visits.

The first of these was at Domaine Lamarche, which is located in the town of Vosne-Romanee. When it comes to the biggest and baddest communes in all of Burgundy, this is it. It is home to Domaine de la Romanee Conti (DRC), the most sought after of all Burgundies, and the hill that sits above the town holds both of this legendary wineries Monopole vineyards, Romanee-Conti and LaTache. Also within the commune boundaries are the famed Richebourg and Romanee St. Vivant vineyards, along with four other Grand Cru vineyards. Just north of the town are the Grand Crus of Echezeaux and Clos de Vougeot, with over twenty Grand Cru vineyards within them. This is home to many of the greatest vineyards in the world, and those who seek to build “the ultimate cellar” with countless trophies must certainly look to this small village.

Lamarche is in fact quite a proliferate winery, with twelve different wines under production. Not all of these are flagship wines, as the winery makes a simple Bourgogne and eve some Bourgogne Aligote (Aligote is an obscure white grape that appears on occasion in Burgundy). But Lamarche certainly produces its share of wines from the big name vineyards. Four different Premier Cru vineyards are bottled each year, as well as Grand Cru bottlings from Echezeaux, Grands Echezaux, and Clos de Vougeot. But the true trophy of Domaine Lamarche is La Grand Rue, a 1.65 hectare Monopole vineyard just across the street from Romanee-Conti.

Unlike my most of my other visits this was part of an actual tour, not a one-on-one visit with the winemaker. I arrived right after the tour had started and was surprised to find not only a good-sized gathering of people, but also a camera crew. Lamarche is still family owned and at present time two cousins, Nathalie and Nicole, are taking more and more of an active role in the winery. There was some documentary being filmed on women winemakers and the camera crew was here to get some footage of these two (both of whom are a few years short of thirty).

We were certainly treated with the greatest amount of hospitality, but the group was a dozen people before you counted the camera crew, and the cozy confines of a cellar make things pretty crowded. The end result was there are questions I would have loved to ask that I wasn’t really able to. I’m in no position to complain though, this was something that wasn’t even really set up until after I landed in France and it was more than a treat.

Domaine Lamarche’s facility is in some ways quite imposing. The house of the actual Domaine is every bit as grand as one would expect from a winery that owns a Grand Cru Monopole Vineyard, and as you walk into the cellars and winemaking facility you pass old bottles of wine from many of the most famous houses and vineyards in Vosne-Romanee that have been gathering dust for years. But at the same time it has some very humble aspects. The winemaking facility doubles as the bottling room, which is the standard practice at the small, family owned houses in Burgundy, and while the barrel rooms have enough lighting to make them feel comfortable they are by no means modern and are in fact packed very tightly. Perhaps this description (which is true) will help make things clear: yes the reception room on the main floor is nice, but the floors in the basement are unfinished and the barrels are stacked on beds of small rocks.

I do have to tell one funny aside here. Our tour started with Nathalie guiding us and offering us barrel samples, but with all the people and the camera crew crowding into the small walkways in the cellar it was quite difficult to make it to the spit bucket. Remember, this is the third visit of the day and there is still one more to go; you have to spit out everything. Normally in these situations it is perfectly appropriate to spit in a corner or somewhere out of the way, but because this was a “tour” I think they wanted it be a bit more refined and I didn’t want to just start casually spitting my wine on the floor when no one else was. On about the third taste there were about four visitors, along with the sound guy and the lighting guy, between the bucket and me. I was looking around, hoping to find some tactful way to spit, when I noticed an attractive young woman behind me who looked at me funny and then motioned for me to spit on the floor. It seemed odd to her that the thought of not spitting had even crossed my mind.

It turns out this was Nicole, who along with Nathalie is moving towards taking over control of the winery. A moment or two later she was introduced to us, and the rest of the tour at least one of them was normally available to answer a question. The big one I wanted to ask had to do with the 2003 vintage, where the significant heat in August was particularly damaging to the Burgundy region. The weather led to wines with heavy extraction levels, high alcohol, and little acid. Producers were forced to discard large amounts during selection, and even then there were great challenges when it came to making the wine. I was curious to hear how Lamarche had handled all this.

The short answer is they took grapes that were not being used to make wine, extracted the acids, and then added these acids to the wine. By doing this you avoid any legal issues (there are very, very, very specific practices that must be followed when it comes to winemaking in particular regions) and you can also honestly say that nothing unnatural has been added to the grape. The feeling is that by using actual grapes from the areas you are able to preserve a more natural essence in the wine. I’ve vastly oversimplified this answer, and there are other elements to it, but basically they told me the tried to get as creative as possible without interfering with the actual terroir they work with. So, were they successful?

Give me one second to answer that. We worked through our barrel tasting of the 06 vintage and I was surprised at the spice levels of the wine. Each of the Premier Crus showed individual characteristics, but there was also a definite signature of smoke and spice that trailed throughout the wines. It intrigued me a great deal and I tried to follow it from wine to wine and notice how it incorporated itself into each of the different Crus. After our barrel tasting (which did not include every wine Lamarche makes, but it did include several) we headed back out to the main room in the cellar that serves both the winemaking facility and the bottling line.

We were offered the chance to barrel sample the 06 La Grand Rue, but I was still a bit surprised to see a bottle of 05 La Grand Rue out for us to taste (given all the hype behind 05 I figured those would have all been sold). In the main room we then went through a tasting of five different vintages of La Grand Rue. This was quite an unbelievable experience, if for nothing else because it was an amazing opportunity to do a true vertical tasting of a top-flight single vineyard wine.

My initial impression of La Grand Rue was about what I would have expected. I’ve never had LaTache or Romanee-Conti, so I can’t really tell you what I should have been looking for, but I certainly got the impression the qualities of this wine gave it the basis to be not only unique in character but of outstanding quality. Spice was once again present, but at the same time there was a good dose of cherry, but I want to make clear this is a darker cherry than a lot of people think of when they think of Pinot Noir. I know Vosne-Romanee wines are supposed to be pretty dark in color, and this was, but we also weren’t in the best light so I’m didn’t get a good read on the color.

Going through the different vintages was an educational experience. I would love to say that during this time I was able to develop an understanding of how a wine develops over time, but that would be misleading. First off, these are wines that can keep going for well more than a decade, so going back to the late nineties doesn’t cut it. Instead, I got a sense of vintage variation. Even though the key elements were the same each time there were defining characteristics to each wine that gave it a unique identity and personality. These are the kind of things that are so subtle I’m not even sure I’m comfortable trying to describe them; yes they were there, and yes, you could have fooled me into thinking these were five different wines and not five different vintages of the same wine, but at the same time there was a certain key presence that was consistent throughout.

Lamarche has for some time struggled against the reputation of being an “under-achiever,” which is probably due in some part to an actual degree of underachievement, due in some part to the stratospheric reputation of neighbors, and probably in some part due to the fact that La Grand Rue was only recently promoted to Grand Cru status (when the INAO first classified vineyards in the 1930’s Lamarche never applied, and as a result La Grand Rue was known as the “greatest Premier Cru site” in Vosne-Romanee. Now some consider it to be the last of the commune’s Grand Crus. I think that is an unfair perception.

The fundamental necessity of a Grand Cru vineyard is a unique expression and identity. I believe La Grand Rue has that. Arguing over the rankings of the Grand Crus is little more than a debate in philosophy at this point, and La Grand Rue at least should be in the discussion. Lamarche was an interesting visit with plenty of wines that more than piqued my interest. Also, with a new generation taking a more and more active role in the vineyard and the winery there are plenty of reasons to be optimistic about this winery in the future.

The First Stop In Burgundy

So, everybody had time to digest the last entry about Burgundy? Good. Now on to the actual visits. My first stop was in Chassagne-Montrachet at F&L Pillot, which produces both white and red wines from primarily Chassagne-Montrachet both also does a Puligny-Montrachet, and Volnay, and a Pommard.

As I drove into Chassagne-Montrachet it was starting to rain, and after struggling to find the winery I finally noticed a man carrying some empty bottles to a garage. The Pillot facility is right no more than their house, which sits right on the edge of the town with vineyards all around it. Because of the rain Laurent Pillot (the winemaker) had rushed out to the vineyards. My visit was with his wife and her father, and we headed down to the cellar to taste some wines.

Pillot was probably a really good place to start because I actually had a decent level of familiarity with the wines. I have tasted a number of their whites, and always enjoyed the lighter, quicker, finesse-based style they possessed. White Burgundy has earned its fame by being a rich, powerful, and often intense wine, but the Pillot style tends to emphasize the more elegant traits of Bugundy. The wines are aged in oak barrels and regularly stirred on their lees. This helps develop fullness and structure, and the wines are bottled just before the next years harvest. The result is plenty of fruit and terroir to give the wine identity without an encumbered wine that sits too heavy on the pallet.

With the reds, I have been fortunate to experience the 2000 Pommard on a couple of occasions and must admit it was one of the great eye-openers for me regarding the benefits of decanting. Pommard is known for a being full-bodied Burgundy, and upon first opening the bottle it certainly feels heavy on the pallet although there is good fruit. But the nose of the wine lacks any real depth or complexity. There are no aromas to offer up any of the mystique or intrigue that is supposed to make Burgundy special. The wine is nice enough, but certainly begs the question of whether or not all the hype surrounding the region (and certainly the price) is legitimate or if it’s a bunch of pretentious wine jerks claiming to understand subtleties that most of the human race can’t discern or appreciate.

However, about forty minutes after opening the bottle the whole experience changes. Now the nose is enchanting, with elements of garden fruit and berries to go with the rich, smoky aromas that make you just want to sniff it over and over again. The power of the fruit and tannins has given way to luscious fruits that massage and linger over the pallet. The acids in the wine are still present and keep the mouth salivating and fresh. The wine carries the magical balance that is supposed to be the great attraction to Pinot Noir: it is rich, complex, and flavorful while still being light in body and unencumbered.

But for this visit my real interest was to taste the white wines (there would be time to taste reds later), and there are more white wine options from Pillot. We headed downstairs and opened a series of wines. This was my second tasting of 2005 Bourgogne Blancs, and I was certainly curious. For those of you that haven’t heard the press has declared 2005 to be the end-all be-all for red Burgundy, although the whites are supposed to be “historic” as well. My first tasting was all from one producer and I was not impressed—at all. I know for wines to age (a key component to being a critically acclaimed vintage) there has to be a good level of acids, but these wines were actually harsh. After tasting the first two or three my pallet was completely overwhelmed by the heavy, lumbering structure of the wines. I was at least skeptical (it should be noted that bottle shock could account for some of this, but I certainly did not feel I was in the presence of anything special).

The 05 Pillot whites were a different story altogether. There is certainly a high level of structure to the wines, and the telltale aroma of earthy Chardonnay with plenty of mineral is prominent. These wines have tons of life to them. What makes them exciting is the fruit, with apple popping up in all areas along with enough garden aromas to make you wonder what flavors will develop over time. Chassagne-Montrachet is not just the hometown of Pillot, it is also the real backbone of the winery. They make four different single vineyard Premier Cru white wines along with a village appellation Chassagne-Montrachet blanc (there is also a single vineyard Premier Cru red wine from Chassagne-Montrachet). I would love to say I was able to identify and focus on the key characteristics of each vineyard, but that would be a blatant lie.

That does not mean I wasn’t able to identify the differences between the wines. For the most part it is standard in Burgundy to practice the same winemaking techniques with each of your wines with the goal of letting the wine display the traits and fingerprint of its vineyard or appellation. So while I can’t describe what to look for in each of the wines I can tell you that they are all distinct. Given more experience I would love to someday describe in detail the defining traits of vineyards throughout Burgundy. Right now I’m in no position to do that, but I certainly realize that those traits do exist and there is a reason each vineyard has its own name: because the wines from those vineyards have a unique identity.

A quick note I should make is the wines I have listed for F&L Pillot is not necessarily complete. The wines I’ve listed are the ones I have been offered the opportunity to purchase in the US. It is quite possible that there are more wines made by this great winery that either don’t leave France or the quantities that come to the US are so small they do not make it to every market. This is quite common in Burgundy.

The First Step Into Burgundy

One of the gentlemen who was most influential in arranging my trip and also is a veritable scholar on French wine sent me an email not long before I left. I had been complaining about how difficult it was to sell Burgundy in my store. His response began with the simple line: “Welcome to the Holy Grail of the wine world.” He then offered some poignant and knowledgeable advice and gave me some thinks to focus on before my trip.

Prior to leaving my goal was to at least gain an appreciation for Burgundy, even if I couldn’t gain an understanding of it. There is no hiding that fact that Burgundy, while home to countless spectacular wines, presents the greatest challenge for a person trying to sell wine in this country. It is expensive, immense, intricate, and painfully specific. I viewed this as the one area I was walking into pretty much completely lost.

My real goal was to answer this question: is Burgundy worth it? By this I meant is it worth the price and the effort to understand all the subtle differences and the countless vineyards. There is an amazing level of interest and passion devoted by some in the wine community to pursuing Burgundy and learning more and more about it. I wanted to find out if all this excitement and prestige is justified.

I visited five wineries in the Cote d’Or (the famed row of hills that is what most people are referring to when the speak of “Burgundy”), and I will write a review of each of them. I tasted Grand Crus and also the simplest Bourgogne wines along with pretty much everything in between. I promise to recount all of that. But before getting into all those stories I think I should first offer a general overview of Burgundy and try to describe the system for classifying the wines. This is the aspect of Burgundy that scares of most people (well, that and the price) but it is essential to have at least a basic understanding of the region in order to really talk about the wines. This may be a bit confusing, but believe me it is worth spelling it out this once.

Burgundy has the most complicated and intimidating system of wine classification and naming of any French appellation. To begin with there are well over 50 appellations within Burgundy, some of which are no more than a single vineyard (the famed Romanee-Conti Vineyard, which is its own appellation, is less than five acres). Wines can carry the general appellation of “Bourgogne” or a more specific village appellation, such at Nuits-St. George or Pommard, or it may just be listed by the vineyard it came from, such as Richebourg or Chambertin. Many of the vineyards have been rated, with Grand Cru being the highest rated, followed by Premier Cru.

This may seem overwhelming at first, but at least it makes sense. As with all French wines the theory is the more specific place name on the bottle the better the wine. It’s just that in Burgundy were getting far more specific than anywhere else in France. Bordeaux’s most famous sub-appellation is Pauillac, which produces around 8.5 million bottles a year. By comparison the famed village of Vosne-Romanee produces just under 1 million bottles a year, and within Vosne-Romanee alone there are six different appellations. The specificity in Burgundy is unmatched.

Where things get confusing is many of the villages have hijacked the names of the most famous neighboring vineyard and added it to their name. The great and famous Montrachet vineyard sits between the two villages of Chassagne and Puligny, both of which have taken the name to increase the prestige of their regular village wines. The town of Vosne did the same with the Romanee vineyard that sits above it, and the Chambertin name has been borrowed by the town of Gevrey. This is no more than marketing, and while there are top quality wines from all of these towns it would make things much less confusing on people trying to learn about wine if certain names didn’t keep popping up all over the place.

Unlike other regions where a winery owns a vineyard in Burgundy the plots have been carved up to the point where ownership switches from row of vines to row of vines (in some cases this is literally true). Some vineyards are in fact owned by just one winery, but they are the exception (these vineyards are referred to as Monopole and are highly prized). Montrachet is just under 20 acres and more than ten different people have ownership of vines within that single plot of land.

The reason for all this division is Burgundy once followed a very unique system of inheritance. Throughout history land was left to the oldest heir (i.e., the oldest son). While this certainly created problems for the younger children it did preserve wealth and protect the family’s holdings from slowly being divided up into nothing. But following the French revolution Burgundy spent a period of time where the property was divided evenly amongst all the heirs (women were still left out of the equation). The reasons behind this are very complicated but for simplicity’s sake let’s just say it was a reaction against the nobility hoarding everything under the French monarchy.

While the reasoning behind this philosophy is tricky, the result is rather easy to see. Let’s say Great Grandpa Penguin owned an eight-acre vineyard, and each acre had 24 rows of vines (I’m have no idea how many vines you actually get per acre). Great Grandpa Penguin has two sons, each of which now owns a four-acre vineyard. One of those Grandpa Penguins has four sons (not unreasonable at the time), by now each of them is down to one acre, or 24 rows of vines. So my Daddy Penguin has me along with two other brothers. By the time my brothers and I are grown up we each have eight rows of vines. None of our children are excited about their inheritance and what was once an impressive eight-acre holding has now been diced into countless small parcels.

As a result of all of this there are very few people who own enough of a vineyard to produce a wine from that particular vineyard. Instead of one major bottling (the common practice in most of France) you have an entire series of smaller bottling from various villages or vineyards. Pillot, the first winery I visited, has nine bottlings (that I know of), including at least six that are Chassagne-Montrachet. These include a village appellation Chassagne-Montrachet, a vineyard specific Chassagne-Montrachet, and four different vineyard specific Premier Cru Chassagne-Montrachet wines.

This is brings us to the actual classification of the vineyards in Burgundy. As I said, there are well over fifty different appellations within Burgundy, some of which are no more than a couple of acres. But there are hundreds of individual vineyards that are recognized throughout the region. Using Chassagne-Montrachet as our example, we can look at the different levels of vineyards. As I said earlier, the most basic appellation is Bourgogne, which applies to grapes grown anywhere in the region. While these wines are generally nowhere near as complex or impressive as the upper-tier wines they also come at a significant price discount, and the best producers often produce wonderful Bourgogne wines that are a relative steal.

Next up on the chart are the commune wines. Each of the recognized communes, such as Chassagne-Montrachet, Meursault, Pommard, and Nuits-St. George have a defined area and any grapes grown within this area may be labeled as “village” or “commune” wines. A noticeable step up in prestige, these wines are the most prolific in wine stores and on wine lists and offer varying degrees of quality, and those variations can be huge. More than any other level this is where you need to be aware of the producer. While the focus is on making wines that express the particular terroir of the region you will want to be familiar with the producers who take the best care of the vineyards and are the most skilled in the winery. Wines carrying the commune name can come be a blend of grapes from several different sites within that particular commune or they can be from one specific vineyard. If the wine comes from one and only one vineyard you can put the name of the vineyard on the bottle (such as “Les Narvaux” in Meursault).

Moving up the chain we come to Premier Cru, which are the vineyards that have been recognized as having special and unique qualities (the responsibility for this falls on the INAO, a particular entity within the French government). Premier Cru wines are where you really start seeing price increases. Within many of the villages certain vineyards have attained the status of Premier Cru, and wines made from these grapes carry the designation Premier Cru, or 1er Cru, on the bottle. By my count the village of Chassagne-Montrachet alone has thirty different Premier Cru vineyards. If you blend together grapes from different Premier Cru vineyards you can label the wine Premier Cru with the commune name on the bottle (all Premier Cru vineyards fall within a broader village or commune appellation). If you make a wine made of grapes from a single Premier Cru vineyard then you can place the Premier Cru designation on the label along with the vineyard name (such as Premier Cru La Maltroie).

Finally, there is Grand Cru. To my knowledge all the Grand Cru’s in Burgundy are their own appellation, and therefore you will never see a wine simply labeled “Bourgogne Grand Cru.” The Grand Cru wines always carry the name of the vineyard and the term “Grand Cru” somewhere on the label, although the name of the vineyard will always be much smaller than the phrase “Grand Cru.” The theory is the names of these vineyards are so famous you don’t need to be told they’re Grand Crus. Theoretically you can always blend down. For example, a significant part of Montrachet lies within the commune boundaries of Chassagne-Montrachet, so by law you take fruit from those vines and blend it in with fruit from other vineyards and sell it as Chassagne-Montrachet (this process is known as “declassifying” and does happen in some areas from time to time, but not with Grand Cru Burgundy). The reality is the demand for Grand Cru wines is so strong you would never surrender the opportunity to put one of those vineyard names on the label.

I think it is possible at the moment for me to locate Grand Cru wines for right around $100 or maybe a hair under, but they are rare and with the pending release of the 2005 vintage and the guaranteed price increases I imagine the days of double-digit priced Grand Cru Burgundy have officially passed. These wines exist in microscopic quantities and are sought after around the world.

So, confused? If so, good. It’s that confusing a system. As I said, I wanted to find out whether or not all of this really meant anything or if it was just an old system that had never evolved and now was held in place by a handful of wine geeks who liked being able to rattle off various vineyard names and villages and discuss the variances in minerality between Puligny-Montrachet and Meursault. My first stop was at F & L Pillot in Chassagne-Montrachet, which produces both red and white wines and is also a winery I had some familiarity with before my trip. When I write my next entry I’ll start talking about the experiences I had at the wineries, with the wines, and in the vineyards.

The (non) Nouveau Perspective on Beaujolais

After three days I left the Rhone Valley and headed north towards Burgundy. My first stop was in Beaujolais, where I had a morning appointment at Chateau de la Terriere in Brouilly. Most people skip over Beaujolais altogether (both when visiting Burgundy and when it comes to shopping wine) but it was trip I was definitely looking forward to. The Beaujolais region grows only one grape, Gamay, and produces a series of fruity and attractive wines. To put it simply, this is an area that offers plenty of great finds for open-minded wine lovers.

Beaujolais is primarily known for two things: Beaujolais Nouveau and mass-produced quantities of sub-par wines that lack any structure or substance. This is unfortunate. Beaujolais Nouveau is an aberration, merely a marketing success for George DuBoeuf. The reality is there is plenty of great wine made in this region (and it is not released a matter of weeks after it is harvested) and it is unfortunate that people now associate all wines that carry the “Beaujolais” name as being sub-par wines. People who work with wine know there is plenty of great Beaujolais out there but getting it into the hands of consumers and getting them to try it without a blatant prejudice is a major challenge, and this certainly was a topic of discussion during my visit to Chateau de la Terriere.

The answer to these challenges, and the solution to the problems Beaujolais faces in marketing its wines to Americans, probably lies in Cru Beaujolais. Within the Beaujolais appellation there are villages that have earned the right to place their names on the label in place of the term “Beaujolais.” These include Brouilly (where Terriere is located), Morgon, Moulin-a-Vent, and others. It’s not just that the wines from these appellations aren’t encumbered (so to speak) by word Beaujolais, but they also represent a significant step up in quality. Remember, every grape can vinified in a manner that brings out its worst—but just because you have one bad wine from a region doesn’t mean you should automatically disregard everything else.

Beaujolais practices a somewhat unique style of vinification and the result is wine with a low level of tannins. For many Americans who find red wines too harsh this is the perfect answer. The problem is too many people who search out Beaujolais are disappointed by the lack of quality they find in the wines (you would be surprised out how people can tell whether or not a wine is well-made). The prevalence of less-than-stellar Beaujolais has led to a widespread misconception that any wine labeled Beaujolais is insipid and lifeless. Anyone who has had the chance to taste the wines from Terriere knows different.

Chateau de la Terrier produces three different wines: Beaujolais Villages Vieilles Vignes, Brouilly, and Brouilly Cuvee Jules de Souzy. Yes, Beaujolais wines deserve this level of distinction. Wines from the region often display a high level of acidity, and what really separates the good from the great is the minerality that shows up. With Chateau de la Terriere there is no need to worry about a lack of minerality. Using head-pruned, four-shoot vines (required in Beaujolais) they work with vineyards that in some cases date back to World War I. The winery maintains an active presence in their vineyards, which are located on the hill above the actual chateau. As we were walking up the hill we actually bumped into the vineyard manager as he was making his daily rounds. Additionally, Terriere practices very diligent pruning and normally ends up with about half of the yield allowed by law.

The end result is wines that showcase wonderful fruitiness and minerality. While the wines are full-flavored and rich they are light in tannin and are wonderfully supple on the pallet. Perhaps the one surprise (and I have found this to be true in all well-made Beaujolais) is the surprising weight of the wine. Good Beaujolais has a surprising level of concentration and fullness in the mid-palate, which is the result of having fruit and minerality without delivering a hefty dose of tannin at the end. The end result is a wine that is not just enjoyable for people who aren’t comfortable with big overpowering California wines but also for those who truly appreciate a fine, intense, rich red wine.

Before I finish, there are two other things I want to say about this visit. First and foremost, this was truly an amazing facility. In fact, I would dare to say that was the most romantic version of a “French Chateau” that I saw. Anyone in the Lyon area who has a car and is planning on a day trip should definitely make the effort to find the winery. They’re a bit out of the way and not the easiest thing to locate, but there is good signage and the staff is wonderfully hospitable. If you’re looking to spend a day in the French countryside this is a destination well worth seeking out.

Next, during our discussions I asked about the major markets for Brouilly (and Cru Beaujolais overall). The answer was Paris, which apparently accounts or well over 50% of the worldwide consumption of Brouilly. This struck me as odd, and I admit to being a bit skeptical. But the first full day we were in Paris my girlfriend and I had lunch with my parents at Restaurant Georges (located on the top floor the Pompidou, Paris’ modern art museum). The dining room is beautiful and quite swank, and it was close to full when we arrived. During the meal I counted three different tables with bottles of Brouilly. Throughout the next several days I noticed that virtually every café or restaurant had at least one Cru Beaujolais on the list, in most cases Brouilly, and it was a common choice for people sitting down to have a glass or two of wine. Obviously my experiment was far from scientific, but the presence of Brouilly throughout Paris was strong (and I did see Chateau de la Terriere on many occasions).

Beaujolais is something that most people in this country choose to ignore. That is unfortunate. I’m not arguing that everyone run out and start buying multiple cases of Cru Beaujolais, but people who dismiss the wine outright based on the perception of large-scale Beaujolais Nouveau are missing out. These are wines that offer a wonderful experience and occupy a very unique place in terms of profile. People who enjoy the experience of tasting and exploring wine owe it to themselves to seek out some the better wines of the region.

Beaucastel

As soon as I learned as I was going to France I made it clear there were two places I wanted to visit: Krug and Beaucastel. While both wineries are renowned for their hospitality, they are also not the easiest places to get into. Simply put, if both were to welcome every visitor who showed up at their doors they would have no time to make wine, and if they offered tastings to those visitors they would have no wine to sell. Fortunately people in the wine industry arranged for me to visit both of these famous estates. Beaucastel was my last visit in the Rhone Valley but it was also my most anticipated and I parked my car and walked into the winery with great expectation.

When it comes to Southern Rhone wineries few names carry the weight of Chateau de Beaucastel. This winery dates back almost 500 years and has a reputation that is virtually unmatched. Some (including Robert Parker) have pointed out that Beaucastel has one of the largest estates in Chateauneuf du Pape and has always had a strong presence in America thanks to the importer Vineyard Brands. These two arguments both have some substance and have contributed to the success of Beaucastel, but the main reason Beaucastel has achieved the standing it has is because the wine is outstanding. The production and marketing may have offered it an advantage at certain, but the wine has always been amongst the best in the world. In Robert Parker’s most recent guide to Rhone wine producers three of the four Chateauneuf wines from Beaucastel are listed as “Outstanding” (the highest rating), including the only white wine to get that rating and the fourth wine is listed as “Excellent” (the second highest rating).

Beaucastel has two major defining characteristics: the wines rely heavily on Mourvedre as opposed to most Chateauneuf which is predominantly Grenache, and Beaucastel prides itself on using all of the permitted varietials in the appellation (see below). The winery sits in the middle of the 173 acres of vineyards and upon walking in the front door was clear I was in a facility unlike anything I had yet visited. Up until now I had really just visited small wineries, in some cases just simple farmhouses. Beaucastel is much more imposing (Beaucastel also houses the offices for Domaine Perrin, the large-scale project that produces wines from throughout the Southern Rhone, all of which are worth seeking out).

Out guide was a gentleman named Farbrice, who along with being fluent in English was great to talk because he had worked as a sommelier in the US prior to coming to Beaucastel. He was able to offer some really helpful perspectives. I’m not sure what Farbrice’s title at Beaucastel, but he is outstanding at giving tours. Along with being upbeat and energetic he is full of great analogies and does a great job of explaining the process that takes place and how Beaucastel views their land and their wine. The one downside to the whole visit was I was with another small group and the physical condition of one of our group kept us from really going out into the vineyards, but it was still a great visit.

There are plenty of things I took away from the visit, but perhaps most important was the true devotion to organic farming at Beaucastel. Many places I visited during my trip took great pride in their environmentally friendly practices, but at Beaucastel I got the sense they don’t view organic wines as just better than those with herbicides or pesticides, they believe chemicals ruin grapes and destroy the vineyards. I left France with the impression that the people who practice organic or biodynamic farming don’t do it because it sounds good, they do it because they believe it is the only way to make truly great wines that express terroir. But at Beaucastel they are very outspoken about keeping their wines free of corruptive influences (which is more or less how they view chemicals).

Beaucastel is proud of their heritage, but they are also one of the most technologically advanced facilities I visited. It doesn’t just mean having the best equipment either. The Perrin family is still working to develop and refine their winemaking process to produce even better wines. Over the course of several hours Fabrice mention several new practices that were being implemented at Beaucastel that sound not only groundbreaking but in some cases potentially revolutionary (I apologize, but I’m afraid my attempts to describe any of these would be disastrous).

Along with the Beaucastel story, Fabrice also told us the story of Tablas Creek, the property in Paso Robles that is a joint venture between Beaucastel and Vineyard Brands. This story of Tablas Creek warrants its own entry at some point in the future, but for now I will give some highlights. Following the purchase of 120 acres in 1989 Tablas Creek began the lengthy process of importing vine cuttings from Beaucastel (they believed the vines available at that time in California were not of the necessary quality). These cuttings spent 3 years in quarantine and it was not until 1993 that clones began to arrive at Tablas. The winery was essentially forced to start with one twig of each type of vine they wanted to use. A nursery was developed at the site and along with producing the cuttings that would serve as the foundation for Tablas Creek’s vineyards cuttings were sold to winemakers throughout California. The first vintage from Tablas Creek was 1997, and the flagship wine Esprit de Beaucastel was debuted with the 2000 vintage. The project is still not complete, although Tablas Creek plans to have 110 acres under vine by 2010.

We finally headed down to the cellar to taste some wines. Beaucastel’s cellar is reminiscent of the great Bordeaux cellars. You walk past vaulted alcove after vaulted alcove, each with a large stack of wines covered in dust and a sign hanging over them that indicates the vintage. It is truly a library of amazing wines that goes back decades.

Fabrice opened a variety of wines for us, but I’m going to focus on just four. The first wine is the 2005 Vieilles Vignes Roussanne. This is the only wine Beaucastel makes that is single varietal, and it may well be there greatest wine. It does undergo some barrel fermentation, but the aromas or it are so rich and seductive it is amazing. This may well be the greatest wine I have ever had (I’ve had both the 04 and the 05). It has amazing intensity for any wine (red or white), and a wonderful honeysuckle essence to go with powerful body. Enchanting, to say the least.

Next up we tasted the 2004 and the 2005 Beaucastel. During our visit Fabrice asked if anyone knew how many grapes varietals were permitted in Chateauneuf, and I said between 13 and 15 depending on how you counted the variations of certain varietals that can be either white or red (such as Grenache; do you count Grenache Noir and Grenache Blanc as one varietal or two?). Fabrice applauded my answer, but corrected me and said that due to loopholes in the very old regulations you could actually get up to 19 different varieties allowed. What’s amazing is Beaucastel incorporates every single one of these into their red wine.

I could attempt to describe the vintage variance between the two wines, but my real focus was trying to get a sense of the evolution the wine goes under between when it is (more or less) first put in bottle, like the 05, and when it is released, like the 04. Beaucastel is a big wine, but the tannins are soft and approachable even at the very beginning. However, there is plenty of spice and leather to the wine and after a year in the bottle the flavors are really heading down the path of integration.

But the highlight was when the brought out a bottle of 1990 Beaucastel. This was the year after the legendary 1989 vintage, although the wine still eeked out a 96-point score. The wine wasn’t decanted and I’m sure sitting there with a glass over the course of 90 minutes would have taught me a lot more about the wine, but I made do with what I had. To put it mildly, I think this wine has plenty of life left in it. The integration that I had sensed starting in the 04 was now complete and the wine displayed an amazing level of luxury and depth. The spice aromas wrapped around the fruit, although my sense was the fruits would continue to emerge. There was a garden and floral sense to the wine, but it was more of a wildflower garden than a rose garden. I tasted the wine a couple of times and spit it out (professional tasting), and I have to say that in the end my palate is still woefully inexperienced when it comes to wines like this and while I can tell there was a lot to this wine I’m not really capable of describing what all was there. I just know I would love to experience it again.

Beaucastel was one of the visits I had highlighted before I left, and I’m thrilled to say it lived up to its billing. If there is a better winery in the Southern Rhone, or maybe the Rhone Valley as a whole, I’d love to know who. Obviously these wines fit my personal tastes, but I think it also goes without saying that they are truly spectacular no matter what your taste. Beaucastel has a lot to live up to if it wants to match its reputation. After my visit, I’d have to say it more than lives up to its lofty expectations.

My One Trip Into The Steep Hills

After waking up Wednesday morning I headed south to Cornas for my appointment at Alain Voge. Cornas is a special interest for me in large part because it offers me the chance to put some smaller production Northern Rhone wines in my store that don’t cost Hermitage or Cote-Rotie prices. Cornas is just to the south of St. Joseph, is 100% Syrah, and at its best shows the power and richness of the great Northern Rhone wines.

Before going any further there is one point I should clarify: many rumors have swirled that Alain Voge has been purchased my Chapoutier (a major Rhone negociant). These are not true. Mr. Voge himself is now less involved than in the past due to health reasons by Chapoutier has not purchased the vineyards, the winery, or the name. The winery is now run primarily by Alberic Mazoyer, a long-time friend of Alain Voge who was the Technical Manager at Chapoutier before becoming a partner at Alain Voge.

Cornas is a small town and I quickly found the winery where I met Alberic and took a brief tour through the winery facilities including a cellar that houses Voge bottles going back several generations. We then headed upstairs to a very impressive and modern tasting room to wait for three others who were going to take part in the tasting as well. As Alberic began opening bottles and spreading out glasses the others arrived and we began to taste through the wines. Here in America Voge is famous for the thre Cornas wines he produces, but the winery also makes a handful of other wines, including some St. Peray.

Don’t worry if you’ve never heard of St. Peray. It is a small appellation (150 acres and if anything getting smaller) located just south of Cornas that grows only Marssane and Roussane, and little of the wine makes it to far from the region. A healthy portion of the grapes from this region are sent to cooperatives and only a handful of quality producers make wines baring the St. Peray appellation. Going through the various wine reference books I have the general consensus is this is a highly forgettable appellation.

Even if you love Roussane and Marssane and are a sparkling wine fanatic it is hard to get excited about wines from St. Peray. We tasted through the whole line and the Cuvee Boisee and the Fluer de Crussol (both still wines) were very nicely done but hardly the sort of thing that leads to international acclaim. The St. Peray Brut was interesting and enjoyable. But I can report that the wines are priced attractively. St. Peray is described as an anomaly in the Northern Rhone and it is in every sense of the word: finding wines for less than $20 a bottle are quite an anomaly in this area, and at a minimum the Voge white wines were all interesting enough to warrant a trying once or twice.

Fortunately there were a variety of red wines to taste, and that really is what has put Voge on the map. Cornas retains a degree of fruitiness, even in its youth, that many other Northern Rhone wines don’t have. That’s not to say they are jammy or in any way reminiscent of Australian wines; they still have the structure and weight. But while Hermitage and Cote-Rotie emit aromas of leather and smoke Cornas is a bit more inviting and seductive.

Going from the light and refreshing whites to the heavy and rich reds was a bit of a shock. The Voge wines rely heavily on currant flavors and are not modest. The majority of vines he owns are more than 50 years old and as a result most of his wines carry the Vieilles Vignes. As I said earlier, Cornas is surprisingly approachable in its youth and while there is plenty inky darkness and deep aromas the wine does not just overpower the palate and the tannin is already showing some nice integration. In the US it is the regular Voge Vieilles Vignes that is most common (although there isn’t a ton of it), and tasting a series of vintages showed it to be an exciting and reliable wine. If you want to experience Northern Rhone Syrah without missing a mortgage payment this is a great choice (it’s only about as much as an expensive cell-phone bill).

However, if you don’t mind going without cable and internet for a month and if you’re well connected in the wine world you can go check out the Les Vieilles Fontaines, which is sort of a single vineyard Cornas (Voge owns about seven hectares spread out in over 50 parcels but this wine is taken from a single parcel where the vines are around 80 years old). Make no mistake: this wine is dark, but it is still red in color. The nose is the classic cherry, spice, and tobacco blend you expect from great Syrah. The wine is intense and full of tannin, but then tannins are supple and unimposing. This is due in part to the vines age, but I also imagine the extensive aging at Voge plays a part. For this wine 225 liter oak casks are used for 24 months, although only 25% of the oak is new. This gives the wine time to settle down and really develop a great level of structure (Voge normally gives the wine extended time in barrels but relies primarily on older oak to keep the wood elements from overwhelming the wine).

In order to really enjoy this wine I do think you would be best served to give it some time. Cornas is lovely, but it really is a full-bodied wine that needs to have food. I don’t think there is anything wrong with sipping it on its own but to really appreciate the complexities of these wines I think it helps to have food. Fortunately young Cornas has a rather simple food pairing that lets it show its best qualities: steak. Seriously. Grilled meat, especially if it has some cracked black pepper, practically screams for a nice bottle of young Cornas. Later on the tannins in these wines will mellow out a bit more and then it may be a better idea to search out braised meats or game, but in their youth the dark fruits, lush richness, good acidity and solid structure of these wines makes them perfect for grilled meats with dark and heavy pepper seasoning.

Just above the Voge facility are the Cornas vineyards, which are impressively steep and curl through the small bowl that sits behind the town. They are not quite as steep at Cote-Rotie and unlike Cote Rotie the vines hear come up out of the ground and are attached to a single poll sticking straight up. Alberic drove me a little over halfway up the hill into the vineyards and we got out to look around. This was my first (and only) opportunity to get out and actually walk through a vineyard in the Northern Rhone.

Keeping an eye on where I was I wondered through a small section of vineyard and took a handful of pictures. While I haven’t spent a lot of time in California I have been to Napa and seen hillside vineyards. Perhaps somewhere in America we have vines planted on slopes as steep as those in the Northern Rhone, but if so I have no idea where. All harvesting is done by hand in these areas not because the wineries like to brag about putting lots of attention and care into their work but because there is no other way to do it. The thought of even trying to put a tractor (or any other piece of farm equipment) in these vineyards is downright laughable. In fact, imagining how people maneuver through the vines and transport baskets of grapes back to the roads and paths that wind through the fields is daunting enough.

Looking down the hill I noticed that some newer houses appear to stick out into the vineyards, and some actually have sizeable parcels of vines located below them on the hill. I asked Alberic about this and it was clear I had touched on a somewhat uncomfortable subject. He went on to explain that with the rapid growth of the nearby city of Valence has created a powerful demand for real estate, and the lower sections of the Cornas hill are now under threat from developers that want to turn the land into housing. While I got the impression that Voge itself does not feel an immediate threat (at least, not yet) it certainly is a concern for all wine growers in the town. After a great visit and tasting I was a little bummed that are last discussion was about a topic that could certainly create major problems for all the wineries in Cornas.

My afternoon appointment was at Chateau de Beaucastel, all the way back down in Chateauneuf du Pape (and yes, I’m well aware of the fact that this trip could have been more efficiently routed). This certainly was one of the visits I was most excited about, so I hopped back in my car and headed down the motorway towards Orange. I know I was a little slow in getting this post up, but you can all rest assured that I have now finished reading the new Harry Potter book and will be able to refocus my efforts on keeping this update. Sorry for the delay, and I promise I’ll get back to work.

Visiting a French Wine Shop

Yesterday I promised this new entry would involve more than just tails of wineries. After leaving my tasting in Cote-Rotie at Gerin I headed back south and located my appointment for the next morning in Cornas. Cornas is not much of a town and it was still only late afternoon, so I headed back north a bit to check out Hermitage. I wasn’t actually going to visit any wineries that make Hermitage, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t tempted to at least visit this famous vineyard.

Hermitage is in fact just one big hill. It sits on the eastern slope of the Rhone (most Northern Rhone appellations are on the western side of the river, with Hermitage and Crozes-Hermitage the exception). The city of Touron, which is a pretty good-sized town, sits on the western bank of the river and directly across the Rhone is the much smaller Tain-l’Hermitage, above which rises the famous hill. I found a small inn with a room that looked out toward Hermitage, although my view was obstructed by the building across the street.

After getting my bag upstairs I went out for a walk and headed over to check out the vineyard itself. If you need any reminder that the vineyards we find so famous in the US are an everyday fact of like in France then you should definitely go here: at the bottom of the hill the vineyard’s boundary is in fact the train tracks for the French rail system. But as I was soon to learn not all vines in the famous vineyard are seen as equal.

Throughout my trip I was always curious to find good wine shops to look in. Just a few doors down from my hotel was an odd storefront that had a price list in the window (as is common in France) and countless empty bottles on wooden barrels outside, but the inside just didn’t look like a wine store. A few men were seated at a small table inside, and as I was looking in the window one of them waived me in and invited me to pull up a chair. The place was in fact a wine shop, but like nothing I’d ever really seen before. A small table was set up in front for just relaxing and tasting, and behind it was a wall of wine racks. Behind a cubicle wall was a large desk and the rest of the store was covered with temperature-controlled wine cellars and more sealed wooden crates of wine than I have ever seen.

Peering into the wine cellars I saw numerous bottles of the famed Guigal La-La wines, behind the table was a stack of Chave Hermitage wood crates taller than I am and at least two deep, Clape Cornas literally fell out of shelves, and other top producers from throughout the Rhone filled the entire store. Wines that in America people fight viciously just to get one bottle of, this place had multiple cases of. I was more than a bit overwhelmed.

I proceeded to have a nice discussion with the three men at the table (one of the left shortly after I arrived) about Hermitage, the Rhone Valley, and wines in general. In talking about Hermitage the owner of the store was adamant about pointing out how the appellation as it exists now includes a section of vines at the bottom of the hill on a flat section of land that was not originally part of Hermitage. Using a very large and very useful picture of the hill that was hanging on the wall he pointed out the different sections of the vineyard and made it quite clear that the vines at the bottom of the hill were in his mind nowhere near the standard of those that came from the middle portion of the northern most—and steepest—part of the hill.

Out conversation included other topics such as the quality of St. Joseph, which many French hope the American market never discovers for fear it will go up in price, as well as comparing the different New World wine regions and how the exchange rate for the Euro was affecting French wine sales in the US. But the most enlightening aspect of our conversation came at the end of our tasting.

The owner had given me a glass and was tasting me on the wines he had sitting on the table. This was a Tuesday and while one of his friend’s was in from out of town my general impression was nothing too out of the ordinary was open. My tasting consisted of a Crozes-Hermitage, two St. Joseph’s, and two different Hermitage producers. The cheapest bottle on the table retailed for around $35. He didn’t open Chave or a Guigal La-La, but I was familiar with the producers and the reputations were impressive. This was just the stuff he had for customers to try.

At the end of the tasting the owner asked me a store like his would work in America. It was everything I could do not to laugh. I inquired as to what inspired the question, and he replied that the times he had been to the east coast and had visited other famous wine stores rarely had anything been opened, and if something was opened it certainly hadn’t been anything special. He wanted to know why.

Let me first state that I honestly believe the place I stumbled onto is a rare exception, and something quite unique. But the atmosphere there was similar to what I encountered many times throughout my trip: people who were serious about wine would respect what someone who was offering them a taste of wine was doing and would act appropriately. Regrettably, I informed him that in my experience America is quite far from reaching that point. Various cultural elements work against a place like the store I visited being successful, the most notable of which is a powerful sense of entitlement that too many people in our country feel.

America has been engulfed by a “the customer is always right” attitude, and far too many people expect far too much from others. There are few examples more poignant than the current complaints being spread by many about the tasting rooms throughout California wine country. Whereas once upon a time the roads of Napa were lined with wineries that offered free tastings to anyone who stopped by you hear more and more of charges that keep increasing and wineries that are closed to the public altogether. I regularly hear complaints from people who have visited wine country and are frustrated that they had to pay pretty much everywhere they went. I find the assumption that there should be no charge for visits and tastings amazingly arrogant.

To my knowledge there are only two places in America where people expect the drinks to be free: Vegas and wine country. In Vegas the drinks are free only if you’re gambling, and we all know why. In wine country the tastings are still free if you’re buying wine. Go to any of the wineries where they charge a fee for tasting and buy a case or a case and a half of wine when you finish and that fee will disappear really fast. In short if you are there to purchase wine and are just trying to figure out which ones you want then the winery is happy to offer you a complimentary tasting to make sure get what you want. Also, it’s not like you have to buy a case of everything you taste. If you’re taking it seriously and looking to learn about wine the people will be able to tell and will respect that. Additionally, if your goal is to try different wines and learn more than paying $5 or $10 to try a variety of different wines will look like a good bargain.

But for many people trips to wine country are for the purpose of entertainment, and the main source of entertainment is visits to wineries. If the wineries are being asked to provide entertainment and alcohol then they should charge for those services. Why people are offended by this practice (and believe me, many are) boggles my mind.

In many ways the wine industry has brought this upon itself. For years the dominant form of marketing for wineries has been offering people free samples of products in hopes of getting consumers to make purchases. Since not that long ago wine was so far behind beer and spirits in the American market it was necessary to do everything you could to introduce yourself to the market and get people familiar with your product. The downside is now that wine is exploding in popularity this practice has led to a segment of the population believing wine tasting equals free booze.

At the moment I think any attempt to do something like the store I visited in Hermitage would fail quickly. In America so much of our business is dependent on consistent high volume and the introduction of a program like having four to six top-quality bottles of wine open would add a significant cost to the equation. Personally, I don’t think the return on that investment would be there. Word would quickly spread that a place was offering free samples of those wines and people with little interest in actually buying the wines would show frequently. There are only 20-25 tasting pours in a bottle (tops), so it doesn’t take too many people to create a lot of stress in that situation.

When I finished my tasting and my conversation I asked the owner if I could by a few bottles from him. He was surprised and made sure I realized I didn’t have to. For what it’s worth my motivation was not so much the desire to repay him offering me the wine as it was the chance to buy Hermitage and Clape Cornas at very attractive prices compared to what they sell for in the US (if you can even get them). But it did make me feel like I had been a polite guest.

My purpose in bringing all of this up isn’t to make Americans feel guilty or to gripe about freeloaders who attend tastings with the sole goal of seeing how much they can get for free. That night as I ate dinner I realized the real lesson was that for as far as the American market has come in the wine world we still have a long way to go. I’m not arguing for a place like the one I visited to be on every corner. That would be stupid. But at the same time every wine drinker would do the entire wine community if continued to progress towards a point where we respected what was put in front of us.

If someone offers you a taste of wine don’t act as if you are entitled to it; say thank you. And when it comes to visiting wineries or events remember what the real purpose is for the people who are offering you the wine: to get you familiar with their product. The least you should do is take a moment to at least find out what you’re tasting and learn a little about it.

That went on a bit longer than I thought and probably sounds more negative than I intended. I think I just feel very strongly about wanting to develop a culture where the opportunity to taste new wines (of any price) is respected and not taken as just a courtesy. After the visit to the store I had dinner and went to bed and was back visiting wineries then next morning, which is where I will pick up the story.

And as a final thought, the Delas Freres Hermitage was outstanding, and I promise to write a note on the Clape once I open it.

In the Really Steep Hills

Okay, so I left off with the admission that on the way to my appointment with Jean-Michel Gerin I got lost. I mean really lost—45 minutes late lost. Driving through Condrieu and Cote-Rotie is sort of like driving down those really creepy roads in movies: if you make a wrong turn, there’s no going back. Of course, it’s much better scenery.

In an earlier post I mentioned how rocky Chateauneuf-du-Pape is. Well, the Northern Rhone is that steep. If you start up the wrong road you’re pretty much going all the way up the hill until the road comes back down. Roads are narrow and winding, and there are virtually no spots of extended straightaway. On either side are the steeply terraced slopes that make the region famous, covered with the unusual trellis system of two posts coming up out of the ground to form a triangle (the effect is it looks like there are thousands of little Christmas trees everywhere).

You’ll know it as soon as you get to Cote-Rotie because the slopes are covered with huge billboards for Guigal, Chapoutier, Jaboulet, and other major producers in the region have large signs on the hills (in the middle of the vineyards) that are reminiscent of the huge hand-made wooden billboards you see for mom-and-pop convenience stores while going down the interstate. It seems odd that such a famous wine region would have so many of these signs.

My arrival at Gerin was quite late and as a result we were limited to a rushed tasting. However, as will all my visits, there was a single moment that stood out and made it completely memorable. In wineries all over the world, winemakers stroll through the barrel room with a wine thief or, in French, a pipette. These are essentially nothing more than huge straws made out of glass, although they normally have handle, slight curve, and a tapered spout to make it a bit easier to control. They are used for taking wine from a barrel, as the winemaker removes the plug from the barrel, inserts the wine thief, covers the end of it with his or her thumb, and then dispenses the wine by releasing the thumb. It is a fairly simple act.

Of course wine is barrel aged in separate lots that are later blended together to create the final wine and in order to get an accurate idea of what the final wine will taste like you must blend the different lots together in your glass as you work through the cellar. I’ve seen this done many times, but watching Gerin do it was stunning. Using larger than normal tasting glasses (normal tasting glasses are significantly smaller than the glasses you use at dinner, although still made of quality crystal) he hopped barrel-to-barrel with just one glass, quickly filling it almost to the top. Then, after all the different components had been blended together and he had resealed the last vat he put his mouth at the end of the wine thief and sucked, bringing the wine all the way up the tube and almost to his mouth. He then released the pressure and the wine slid back down into the glass, now fully mixed, He then used his mouth to pull about half of it back into the wine thief, which he then gave to me. The casual nature with which he did this was just amazing.

As for the wines themselves, I was blown away. Northern Rhone wines aren’t cheap (except for maybe some Crozes-Hermitage), and Cote-Rotie has certainly charged up the list of most expensive appellations in the world. But I have never tasted anything in the world quite like it. There is certainly the mysterious elements of meat and smoke in such a flavorful wine, but when co-fermented with Viognier (by law Cote-Rotie is made from Syrah with up to 20% Viognier being allowed, as long as the Viognier is in the same parcel as the Syrah, is harvest along with it, and is fermented in the same tanks) there is an amazing burst of fruit and minerality that races down the middle of your pallet and electrifies the entire wine, bringing it all to life.

Even when no Vigonier is used, as two of Gerin’s wines are 100% Syrah, there is still an element of light and aromatic fruit that you actually taste as the wine washes across you’re tongue. Some people who haven’t had much French wine argue that all the various appellations are unnecessary and most of the wines are all just the same. Cote-Rotie has one of the most unique and vibrant profiles of any AOC.

The one letdown of the visit was the lack of time meant I was unable to ask Jean-Michel about American oak. A rarity in France, Gerin has used up to 20% American oak and believes Syrah has elements that are best suited to American, and not French, oak barrels. This certainly makes him an anomaly and I would have loved to ask him more about this, but my lack of navigational skills ruined the opportunity.

So after tasting through the wines I apologizing again I left and ended my second day of visits. It wasn’t yet to late and although I wasn’t actually visiting anyone who made Hermitage my curiosity got the best of me and I headed back south to at least see the famous hill and maybe find a hotel room there. I’ll resume the story literally at the foot of the famous hill of Hermitage, and the next entry will include a bit more than just winery visits.

Continuing on in the Southern Rhone

So I last left off leaving Domaine de Villeneuve. As I left the clouds were gathering and the region was getting ready for at least some level of precipitation although I would hardly call it a real rainstorm. The folks at Beaurenard had mentioned it was coming and Villeneuve had been getting ready for it when I first arrived. So when I made it to my third stop of the day at Domaine du Galet des Papes I found that winemaker Jean-Luc Mayard had been forced to run back out to the vineyards.

Instead I met with his wife Helene and we did a brief but informative tasting. For those of you not familiar with the wines from Galet des Papes they are an amazing value when it comes to Chateauneuf du Pape. The wines are amongst the most affordable from the region and offer the bright and sweet fruits with a wonderfully inviting structure. The offer two cuvees, the standard and a Vieilles Vignes, both of which are free from any heavy oak that may encumber the wonderful fruit. The Vieilles Vignes (Old Vines) shows a bit more concentration and richness, but both wines are built upon aromas that remind you sniffing a wonderful cup of herbal tea and flavors that bring out wonderful fruits such as strawberries and sweet cherries.

In the past I have talked about using younger red wines that see little or no oak to pair with spicy seafood dishes such as scallops seasoned with Cajun spices. This is the wine I have had the most success doing that with. In its youth the balance of the fruit complements the spices while the lush and relaxed body don’t overwhelm the food itself. Finally, a refreshing level of acids helps to keep the pallet fresh.

Perhaps the most exciting part of this visit was the opportunity to taste the Chateauneuf du Pape Blanc the winery has been developing. Not yet available in the States, I was led to believe the importer (NewCastle Imports, a fantastic company that handles many of the wineries I visited during my trip) had showed some interest and the wine may soon be available. My love of white Rhones has to do with their ability to be rich and powerful while retaining amazing levels of brightness and floral qualities, honeysuckle in particular. Since Galet des Papes is driven by those very principles in their red wines it is no surprise to find their white wine fresh and refined, and I’m optimistic it can be quite successful.

After all that I drove to the town of Vacueyras for the evening and began Tuesday morning at Domaine du Pesquier in Gigondas. The media often accuses Gigondas of failing to live up to its potential, which I find odd (apparently this is one of the times where wine writers have a far better idea of what a particular region should be doing than the people who actually farm it). Over the years I have found wines from Gigondas to be a wonderful blend of fruit and earth, showing a level of dustiness under ripe and bright flavors. The criticism is apparently a lack of weight in the wines. In fact I find it to be an attractive and intriguing quality to be able to pull in such wonderfully juicy fruit, balance it with some interesting and rather rustic earth, and not end up with a hulking wine.

Regardless, it is impossible to miss the differences between Gigondas and Chateauneuf. Obviously there is the lack of rocks but to me the more interesting difference is the use of trellises in Gigondas while in Chateauneuf everything is head-pruned, just a bush sprouting up out of the rocks. In Gigondas everything is in neat little rows and is much more reminiscent of California (especially with the hills rising up behind it). On this morning I had the chance to chat with the winemakers about how worried they were with the rain the night before. The response I got mirrored that from pretty much every Rhone winemaker: “It’s not a big deal as long as Le Mistral blows.

Le Mistral is a weather pattern that effects large parts of western Europe and one of the results is a wind that blows from the north down through the Rhone Valley and out into the Mediterranean Sea. When Le Mistral is blowing it will be a continual wind that lasts for more than a day and has the effect of drying off all the grapes. As long as this happens then mildew remains in check throughout the region. To some up one of the more important lessons I learned on my trip: the real threat of precipitation is mildew, and sooner or later your grapes are going to get wet so you need to figure out how to deal with that. For many of these vineyards Le Mistral is what they count on to protect them from mildew.

The visit with Pesquier was relaxing and enlightening, almost serene to walk through an actual family farmhouse with a winery in it located in the middle of the family’s vineyards. Both the father and son were working that day and it really was an idealistic view of the wine industry. The tasting itself was limited to Cotes du Rhone and Gigondas, although Pesquier does make a wonderful Gigondas with plenty of herb spices and tannin to go along with a nice structure. Some may argue that Gigondas lacks the lineage of other Rhone appellations but personally I find a wonderful level of earthy charm in the wines.

Following Pesquier I hopped on the highway to head towards the Northern Rhone and an appointment in Cote Rotie. I’ll pick things up there in my next entry, although I will spoil a little bit of the story by admitting I got horribly lost and almost missed my appointment altogether. However, I did see a lot of Condrieu and Cote-Rotie (albeit on accident) and my experience at Gerin was quite memorable.

France, Chapter 1

I’m starting this entry while sitting at Charles de Gaul Airport in Paris waiting to fly home. The past two-plus weeks have been a whirlwind with plenty of great wine, scenic countryside, visits to historic landmarks, great food, world famous art, getting lost driving through France, and plenty of fun. Up until now I literally haven’t had time to sit down and think, let alone write. I’ll make every effort to incorporate all of these experiences over the next several entries.

On Sunday June 24 I landed in Paris, took the TGV to Avignon, and then drove my rental car to Orange to get a hotel room. I spent the afternoon fighting jetlag and driving through the area, finding Domaine de Beaurenard (my first visit) and several other tasting rooms and wineries throughout Chateauneuf du Pape. While it doesn’t appear that too many of the wineries in Chateauneuf are built for visitors there are plenty of signs around the area pointing out directions to the wineries and several of the facilities are clearly undergoing improvements that in all likelihood will include tasting rooms. In the town of Chateauneuf du Pape there are plenty of tasting rooms, and to my surprise most of them were open even on Sunday afternoon. I didn’t actually go into any of the rooms, but they all looked quaint and nice. There were none of the big names Americans know (anyone looking for a Chateau Rayas tasting room will be disappointed) but at the last minute I did find a tasting room for La Nerthe, which was a bit of a surprise.

Driving around through the region was enlightening. It was a gorgeous day with plenty of sun, a clear blue sky, and only a few thin scattered wisps of cloud. Everything around Chateauneuf is flat, but you can see the hills rise up in the distance. It feels very, very, very, Mediterranean and the architecture of the wineries reflects that. But most of all, I don’t think you are really prepared for just how many rocks there are. In wine you always hear that Chateauneuf du Pape is nothing but rocks, but until I saw it I didn’t realize that it really was nothing but red rocks, sometimes larger than softballs, stretching on forever.

After a good night’s sleep I woke up and went to Beaurenard to start my visits. Unfortunately my tour was a bit delayed because Frederic, who was to be my guide, had broken his finger that morning and was at the hospital. So after waiting a few minutes his brother Daniel arrived and we got started. Daniel’s English was far from perfect (remember, I speak no French) but it was more than adequate for us to communicate.

We began with a simple tour of the facility, which is quite modern and very welcoming. French wines may retain an Old World sense about them, but technology is certainly embraced throughout the French wine industry. The folks at Beaurenard were quite proud of their facility, which boasts plenty of modern improvements. Additionally, a walk through the barrel rooms reveals plenty of “touristy” elements, such as ceilings and pillars done to look like a centuries old cellar. As I was to see at virtually every winery I visited there are oak barrels present but their role is not to impart flavor but instead to play a vital role in the development of the wine in its early days (more on that in a later entry).

But the highlight of Beaurenard was a trip out into the vineyards. Before my departure I told people that what I really wanted to see was vineyards and vines and I was not disappointed at all. I should make clear that my limited experience in California has shown me most people you meet with are not that interested or eager to show you their vineyards. There are any number or reasons for this, and in some cases the vineyards are quite a distance from the actual winery while in other cases it may be because the winemaker and vineyard manager are two completely different people. Whatever the reasons, in France the people are more than happy to show you their vines and they certainly view themselves as farmers first.

So we hopped into an old-school FJ Cruiser (the odometer had turned over several times) and set out through Chateauneuf du Pape to visit the actual vineyards. First and foremost, you don’t realize how many rocks there are in Chateauneuf. Seriously. The whole thing is just one big pile of reddish rocks. In fact, it’s not just that the vines grow out of the rocks, but if you look around there are huge piles of rocks on the edge of the vineyards. Those are the ones they moved just to get down to the rocks that they planted in. It is nuts.

Out journeys took us to several different plots the family owns (Daniel and his brother are seventh generation winemakers). I saw people tending vines and even Daniel’s son out working the vines. Most French regions enjoyed a warm April and the vines are producing an abundance of fruit so Green Harvest is taking place in most areas (this is the process of cutting of bunches of grapes now so the vines can focus their energies on a select few bunches, leading to better intensity). I was shown different varietals and different ages of vines, some of which reach up to nearly a century. It was really amazing.

Upon returning to the winery we tasted through the wines. Beaurenard has a fairly wide range for a Chateauneuf producer with a white and a red Chateauneuf as well as a “reserve” red and white to go along with two different bottlings from Rasteau and a Cotes du Rhone red and a Cotes du Rhone Rosé. I personally am heavily biased towards white Rhones, and my tasting was probably far from objective. The whites stood out to me with a beautiful streak of Mediterranean life running through them. The reds—and I can not emphasize how wonderful a value their Rasteau is—show an amazing amount of earth in the nose and carry some intense terroir elements but come across with fruit extraordinarily well on the pallet. Beaurenard doesn’t exhibit the spice you sometimes get out of Chateauneuf (at least not to me) but the wines retain all the loveable qualities of the region.

For lunch Daniel took me to a restaurant inside the walls of the original Papal summerhouse where we shared a glass of his white Chateauneuf and ate looking out across the southern portion of the region. Absolutely amazing on a gorgeous Mediterranean day.

As a final thought, anyone visiting the Chateauneuf region should make it a point to visit Beaurenard. It is a relatively large-scale winery for the region and is just about a five or ten minute walk from the center of the village. It has a modern tasting room and visitors area, and while not everyone there may be fluent in English it is certainly worth the time to visit. They also have a nice website with an English version, although the blog is written in French.

The next stop was Domaine de Villeneuve, a smaller winery located between the village of Chateauneuf du Pape and Orange. A simple and rather humble house is all that is there, along with a smaller barn located out back. Most of the harvest equipment is outside and several empty bottles that have just been delivered and are waiting to be filled sat outside. Inside the barn was a stairway that went down a couple of levels to the winery and barrel room. Villeneuve makes just one wine, a red Chateauneuf, and the vineyards are all located around the house. A brief walk across the street was the extent of our tour of the vineyards.

Everywhere in Chateauneuf it’s tricky to walk in the vineyards. Places like Beaurenard and Villeneuve that practice environmentally friendly farming methods normally encourage natural ground cover, which makes it even trickier to walk through them. The winemaker at Villeneuve, a young man named Stanislas Wallut, is a convinced, 100% committed Biodynamic farmer. As a result the rows between his vines are populated with grasses popping up through the rocks everywhere, which mixed with low to the earth, head-pruned vines that are all you find in Chateauneuf makes it rather daunting at first glance.

While the vineyard tour was brief I did spend over an hour down in the cellar tasting wine with Stanislas and talking with him. We barrel tasted and opened some older vintages, and it was an amazing conversation (having lived and studied in Australia he was perfectly fluent in English). Perhaps the most interesting point that came up was his relationship with his neighbor. Stanislas pointed out that his neighbor didn’t do much to their vineyard (the neighbor was never identified), and while that annoyed him a little it was a lot better than doing things the wrong way (from a Biodynamic point of view). This is quite a tense topic. With the separation of property in these regions being only a few feet how the person who owns the vineyards next to you is treating their land can have quite an impact on how your vines develop.

The discussion was quite enlightening, and the wines were none to shabby. Darker and with a more richness than most Chateauneuf they pretty much screamed for smoky game or lush meat dishes. I loved the weight and dark fruits of the wine and the way the spice elements bled throughout the entire experience, continuously popping up at various points. These wines really showed some richness and fullness; I’d never heard of the place before and I highly recommend searching out the wines.

I’m already way late with this post, so I’m going to stop there. I promise to start writing the next one now and I’ll work to have a steady stream of experiences over the next few weeks. And if I ever figure out how to post pictures I might even through a few of those up.