The Borrowed Penguin Wine Review

Short Thoughts After a Long Absence

Yes, I’ve been lazy. I’ve also been crazy busy and tired and just haven’t had time to work on my blog. I am going to do a detailed entry about the Champagne region and the Champagne production process as well as detailing my other visits in the region. After that there are a few things I want to say about Paris and my dining experiences while in France. Until then, I’m just going to do a quick bullet points entry because I really need to get something posted…and also because as much as I loved my trip there are a few other things I’ve been wanting to say.

-First off, August has been miserably hot in Kansas City. I mean disgusting, with whole weeks where the temperature got to 99 or 100 everyday and awful humidity. This is not good for wine sales. However, I’m proud to say that my store is having a solid month overall. However, our domestic white wine sales are off. Way off. Massively off to the point where I’m embarrassed to say I’m the Wine Director. Our import white wine sales are up a fair amount (which is attributable to a certain extent to my tendency of pushing people to imported wines and away from major domestic brands), but not enough to offset all of the loss in domestic white. No, our red wine sales are way up, in domestic and even more so in import. Why people need big red wines in this heat is beyond me. Maybe it’s because our store is kept quite cool (sub 70 at all times) and walking around in a cool building and buying big red wines makes people forget just how gross it is outside.

-The Pinot boom has been going strong for several years now, but I’m starting to see some things that make me uncomfortable. The nature of Pinot, and this originates in Burgundy, is having several different bottlings that include single-vineyard or “reserve designate” wines to complement a more general Pinot Noir/Bourgogne. The price increases between the standard tier wines and the upper echelon stuff can be quite dramatic. I understand this and accept it; the expression of Pinot Noir really lends the varietal to being used in this manner.

But I have a problem with the fact that this year several prominent Pinot Noir houses have inverted the allocation model. Traditionally the amount of upper-tier wines (which are supposed to be more sought after) you receive is based on the amount of basic-tier wines you have purchased. This year you’re hearing wineries demand that people buy their “reserve” level wines to get the basic stuff. Understandably, many people are reluctant to bring in $40 and up wines just to be able to carry the $20 ones.

This strikes me as a very flawed business model, and already I’m seeing pretty substantial resistance at many levels (including my own refusal to bring in quantities of very expensive wines where I question the demand level). People are indeed interested in Pinot Noir, but that doesn’t mean everyone is ready to run out and drop big money ($40, $50, and much more) on bottles of domestic Pinot. I’m seriously concerned that this holiday season you are going to see wine stores with lots and lots of upper-end Pinot Noir but very limited (quality) selections in the lower price tiers.

Special Disclaimer: This is not a blanket accusation of all Pinot producers; in fact the wineries doing this are in a minority. This is more one of those indicators that maybe we are finally reaching the limits of the Pinot boom. Also, for those willing to ask and seek out the better wine stores there will still be a good selection of top-flight and reasonably priced (by Pinot standards) wines out there.

-People serve their white wines too cold. I know I’ve said this before, but lately I’ve had a few rather poignant reminders of it. Whenever people tell me they want a white wine that “isn’t sweet, but isn’t that nasty dry either” I’ve learned sweetness is rarely the issue. After asking a few more questions I normally find these people describe their negative white wine experiences as being “sour.” Almost universally this is because the wines are served at soda pop temperature. When you over-chill a white wine you deaden the fruit elements, and the only taste left is the acids, which leads to a sour experience. Make sure your white wines are warm enough that you the fruits and aromatics out of them.

-Oak tastes yummy. Look, I’m one of the first to criticize over-priced, over-oaked domestic wines. That doesn’t mean they don’t taste good, it just means they tend to be over-priced, lack any expression, and are often impossible to pair with food. Additionally, I feel that many winemakers use an abundance of oak to compensate for lack of ability or sub-par fruit. But for just having a glass while sitting on the couch, there are some well-made wines that are oak driven. And normally they are quite tasty.

-A few weeks back I attended the industry tasting for Dom Perignon and Opus One. These are two wines that have universal recognition as being elite and within the wine community are normally regarded as over-priced. Indeed, Opus One is expensive and personally it’s something I would be reluctant to spend the money on. It’s also a delicious glass of wine. As for Dom Perignon, I think it has taken unfair criticism because it is a light and elegant style of Presitge Cuvee and most people want power and intensity when they spend that kind of money. Power and intensity aren’t the end-all be-all. The day we had the Dom was one of those horribly hot days here, and after walking across a parking lot in the steaming heat and then being in a beautiful air-conditioned room (modern art museum), the Dom Perignon tasted absolutely fucking awesome.

-Stemware does matter. I recently was a guest at someone’s house, and had the pleasure of spending a great night with a great group of people. There was some lovely food and some truly quality wine, and overall it was wonderful. Unfortunately, the glasses we drank out of throughout the evening sucked. I’m not sure why—we had wonderful serving ware and flatware, but the wines glasses were nut up to par. I know I’m a bit of wine snob, but I really think this detracted from the overall experience (of the wine). Stemware is getting cheaper and cheaper. You don’t need the Sommelier Series from Riedel. Just go grab a couple of decent stems from Target or Function Junction. It’s worth the couple of bucks.

-Torbreck is the best winery in all of Australia. The day after I got back from France the national reps from Torbreck were in my store and I was all set for a letdown. I’d had the wines before and thought very highly of them, but I figured up against the stuff I tasted while in the Rhone Valley they would pale. I was wrong. Winemakers throughout Australia often talk of their wines as being a tribute to what is done in the Rhone Valley, and in most cases these sentiments are laughable. But David Powell (owner and winemaker) actually means it. This tasting deserves its own entry and will eventually get it, but for know just look at the first sentence in this paragraph. That should tell you plenty about Torbreck.

I promise to get back to the more detailed entries soon, and I apologize for being so long between updates. My last thought will be non-wine related: the Royals are currently in fourth place in the AL Central and have been playing pretty good baseball for the past three months. I do love a nice rose or white wine during the summer, but I love baseball even more.

Krug: The Ultimate Champagne Experience

After taking some time off, I'm now back. In a way, this simulates the break I took between my visit to Michel Coutoux in Chassagne-Montrachet on a Friday afternoon and my next visit, which was Monday morning in Champagne. Due to some flight delays out of the US my parents, my girlfriend, and one of my brothers didn't make it over until Sunday. So Saturday morning I picked up my youngest brother at the train station in Reims and we spent the day walking around the city.

Quick aside: Reims is pretty cool. It's a big city, with a full Santa Monica Promenade-style entertainment center and a truly amazing Cathedral. We also found a really cool restaurant for dinner. Overall, I would say this really is a place worth spending a couple of days if you just want to hang out and enjoy yourself. Additionally, unlike most of France the wineries in Champagne are actually set up to receive visitors. There are the obvious big ones that are listed in guide books, but there are also countless smaller ones in the villages around Epernay (Epernay is about 20-25 minutes away). Many of them do follow schedules and charge a few for the tour and tasting, but it's still pretty cool.

So on Sunday I met up with my parents, dropped off my brother, and picked up my girlfriend, who would accompany me on all of the visits in Champagne. As I said, most places in Champagne are set up to welcome visitors, but the first place we visited certainly isn't. I'm going to go ahead and brag: I got to visit Krug. Yes, I had to call in countless favors and pretty much pull out my teeth and hand them to people in order to get in, but I did get a tour.

While all of my visits up until this point had either been rural farmhouses or private homes in small towns, the Champagne houses are located right in the middle of the cities. In fact, Krug is just a few minutes walk from City Centre in Reims, although it has two huge steel gates that are slammed shut and have the name "Krug" written across them in a very imposing manner. It was about what I would have imagined, and quite impressive. Or, as my brother said on Saturday when we walked past: "That is some serious Willy Wonka shit."

The entry way might be intimidating, but the people certainly aren't. We were welcomed and escorted into a small reception room where we waited a few minutes for our tour to start. Krug is now part of the LVMH umbrella and along with some new marketing they are putting in some new welcoming rooms and a tasting area, but they aren't done yet. It doesn't matter. Just sitting in the small meeting room is good enough.

Our tour was very nice, but I'm sure over the next several blog entries I will be able to discuss the Champagne process in depth. The important part here has to do with the actual tasting of Krug. Our group was small: just me and my girlfriend, another couple from the East Coast, and a professional photographer on assignment and his assistant. Even so, our guide opened a bottle of the Grand Cuvee and 1995 Vintage for us to try.

For those of you that have never had it, I want to make this clear: Krug is the greatest Champagne there is, period. I know this is just my opinion, but it is an opinion shared by many, if not the overwhelming majority, of wine people in the world. And while the vintage wines and Clos de Mesnil (the single vineyard Blanc de Blancs released on rare occasions) fetch the highest prices, the true mission of Krug and the true statement of their greatness is the Grand Cuvee. This Multi-Vintage offering (Krug refuses to refer to this wine as "Non-Vintage;" I'll explain more in a later entry) is the mainstay of the house and is what the Krug reputation is built upon. Krug goes to exceptional lengths, including holding well over 100 different reserve wines from which to build the Grand Cuvee, to preserve and consistently maintain and release a wine that is not only of the same level of quality, but also made in the same style, year after year after year. It is the greatest expression of the Krug style.

So what does it taste like? Power is the true signature of Krug. The Grand Cuvee brings a rich toast element to the wines, and fruit that comes across more as dried apple than any other wine I've ever had. It is full and rich, but somehow amongst all the power, spice, and body the wine is elegant and acts with amazing finesse. It shows a depth that is virtually unmatched anywhere in the world of wine, and no other sparkling wine in the world offers the full satisfaction of Krug Grand Cuvee. It is strong and might overwhelm those who don't drink much wine or have never had upper-tier Champagne, but it is truly unparalleled in the world of sparkling wine. Anyone who stops to take a moment and pay attention to this wine will certainly notice that it stands above anything else in the world.

They also opened a bottle of the 95 Vintage, which was the current release at the time (the winery has just now released 96; Krug holds its wines until it feels they are ready to be released). This led to an odd and uncomfortable moment for me. I was asked to check each bottle as it was opened, more or less as a formal courtesy. I know I have a lot to learn, but I've gotten to the point where I am very confident in my ability to identify whether or not a wine is in proper condition just by smelling it, especially if I know the type of wine in question. I was offered the first glass of Grand Cuvee, smelled it, and nodded immediately. This was not the case of with the 95 Vintage.

Instead I was completely taken aback by the aromas of this wine. It was nothing at all like the first wine. While the Grand Cuvee was driving and efficient, this wine was rich and wide, hefty and mature on the pallet like no other sparkling wine I had ever tasted. The aromas were amazingly complex, and there was even something like botrytis there. I want to clarify that I didn't identify anything that might be off or flawed, it was just that it was unlike any other sparkling wine I had ever experienced and was markedly different than the first wine.

Caught off guard, I waited a second and then took a second sniff. Once again, there was nothing at all to indicate this wine was in poor condition, but it was also nothing at all like the first wine. By now I could tell my girlfriend was looking at me a bit strange, and our hostess had also noticed something. As I said, I'm pretty good at identifying off wines, but the mere thought of sending back a bottle of Krug, while standing there at Krug, was pretty overwhelming. If I was even going to say anything I was going to be damn sure the wine was absolutely horrible. I could tell there was nothing wrong with the bottle, and I nodded for everyone else to have a glass.

I think our guide found this funny. She could tell I had hesitated and she immediately put me on the spot, asking me to describe the wine. To be honest, I couldn't. I just told her that I was surprised at how it had almost nothing in common with the Grand Cuvee. She smiled and pointed out that Krug Vintage is only made in "interesting vintages" and is supposed to be an expression of the vintage. Krug already makes Grand Cuvee in the house style; there is no need to make a vintage if it is just going to taste like Grand Cuvee.

At most wineries I would find this uncomfortably arrogant. At Krug I understand what they are saying. First, Grand Cuvee truly stands alone in the world of wine, and second, the Vintage really is an amazing and unique wine. The people at Krug would tell you to drink Vintage if you are looking for something intriguing and different done in an impeccable style. If you just want the greatest Champagne in the world then drink Grand Cuvee.

So what does the vintage taste like? Anything that is that rich and creamy on the nose should be heavy and thick on the pallet. Honey seems to float up out of the glass, and the flavors bring to mind lemons or citrus fruit dipped in honey. Yet somehow the wine maintains wonderful structure and acidity, and each sip is refreshing and full of bright, clean, ripe flavor. It truly is an amazing paradox, and one of the most memorable glasses of wine I've ever had.

Everything I have said above is completely true, but I should bring up one other thing. While the wines themselves are memorable, after having our taste of 95 Vintage my girlfriend and I each took a glass of Grand Cuvee and stepped outside for a moment, and there the woman I love more than anything in the world agreed to marry me. The people at Krug were wonderful and kind to allow us to have this special moment on their property, and while I do objectively believe that there is no Champagne in the world like Krug I admit that from that day forth it will always taste even more special to me.

Grand Montrachet

My final visit on my own was with Michel Coutoux, a well-known producer in Chassagne-Montrachet who produces only white wines. Coutoux holds vines in some of the most prestigious names in all of the Cote de Beaune: Maltroie and Chenevottes in Chassagne-Montrachet, Refrets in Puligny-Montrachet, Charmes and Genevrieres in Meursault, and a parcel of land within the walls of Montrachet itself. This was an opportunity to see some really special stuff.

Like Bocard, Coutoux does not speak English, and his winery is a bit tricky to find. It is actually located on the fork of the main road into Chassagne-Montrachet, but there is no signage on the house so I took a couple of laps before asking a man who was carrying bottles where it was located. He gave me a funny look and then pointed me into the courtyard he had just come from. Coutoux’s facility is small, and I do mean small. Literally, everything fits in his garage.

Unfortunately his barrel room is located a few blocks away, so we just did bottle tasting. The Coutoux style is something to behold: full of power but never imposing or out of control. I imagine that in time the wines become quite elegant, and the one experience I’ve had with his older stuff would confirm that thought. The fruit in his wines is perfectly developed: even ripeness that gives the feeling of a pear or apple that is crisp yet not hard, firm yet forgiving, and juicy but not sloppy or squishy. The balance as the wines sit on the pallet is wonderful.

Coutoux’s style is noticeably different than Bocard’s. Whereas the Bocard wines showed a lush richness the Coutoux stuff shows a bit more mineral and is probably a touch more refreshing. That’s not to say they are light (or that Bocard doesn’t show mineral), but I think the different fermentation styles result in wines with a slightly different build. Most wine experts will tell you the goal in Burgundy is to make wines that have as small of a fingerprint from the winemaker as possible and instead really emphasize the terroir. I definitely feel both Coutoux and Bocard let the vineyards speak, but they also give them a different stage. I’d have a very hard time having to pick between the two.

After our tasting I asked Michel to drive me to Montrachet and show me the vineyard. Earlier in the day I had the opportunity to see plenty of the area around the region, but I hadn’t really visited the Grand Crus. Michel happily agreed and along with him and his dog I hopped in the van. A short drive later we pulled up and parked right beside Montrachet and fellow Grand Cru Chevalier-Montrachet. With Coutoux leading the way we walked along the boundary between the two.

Montrachet is a decent sized vineyard, but it isn’t very large, with just less than twenty acres within its walls. Surrounding it Montrachet are the other Grand Crus that borrow its name: above Montrachet on the hill is Chevalier-Montrachet, and below it across the road is Batard-Montrachet. The very small Les Criots Batard Montrachet sits across the road from Batard towards Chassagne-Montrachet while towards Puligny there is Bienvenues Batard Montrachet. The other vineyards certainly are capable of producing great wines but nothing has ever carried the prestige of the wines from Grand Montrachet.

It was a beautiful afternoon, and as I looked across the vineyard I decided the best description of Montrachet I could offer is this: when God was creating the world he must have doing Montrachet on a day just like the one I was there and said to himself: “you know, this would be a really nice place to sit down and have a glass of Chardonnay.” Some people argue that for all the hype, Grand Cru vineyards never really look like you imagine they would. I disagree. I thought Montrachet looked like what would be the greatest Chardonnay vineyard in the world.

But of course, there needs to be more than appearance. We were pretty much just standing there enjoying the day with Michel occasionally trying to point out things I should see or know when I finally managed to ask the one question I wanted to have answered. Stretching out my arms towards the vines I looked at Coutoux and simply said: “the best?” Coutoux turned to me and smiled, and just simply nodded.

He looked at the vineyard for another moment or two with a strange, content smile on his face and then called me over to look closer at some fines. Taking a bunch of grapes in his hand he tried to show me the characteristics to look for. The bunches on these vines were good sized and all the grapes appeared to be developing at the same rate. The berries were all about the same size and were tightly bunched together, but it didn’t appear as though there were too many or they were straining the vine. It honestly looked like the kind of grape bunch you see in a painting. It was that perfect.

I didn’t get to try any Montrachet during my visit. For this trip I would have to be satisfied with just getting to tour the vineyard. But after that visit I would be very reluctant to challenge the notion that the greatest Chardonnay in the world comes from that patch of land called Montrachet.

A Tractor In The Vineyard

My second day in Burgundy would consist of visits to wineries that focus primarily on white wines. The first stop was at Guy Bocard in Meursault, and while the language barrier had been an obstacle of varying degrees throughout my trip, this was the first time where the person I was with spoke no English at all. Fortunately, after almost a week in France and several visits under my belt I was able to at least have a pretty good degree of communication with lots of pointing, gesturing, nodding, and grammatically incorrect questions.

When I met Guy he was badly hobbled and walking with a cane, the result of either a hip-replacement or a broken femur (I believe). While he may not have been as sprightly as he normally is, it did nothing to throw off his charming demeanor. Together we went into a small office where he pulled out several of his wines for some bottle tasting, and then we went over to his barrel room where he offered me several different samples and even had me climb up over some of the barrels he couldn’t reach.

Bocard’s wines have always been a personal favorite. Right now the best $20 bottle of Chardonnay in my store, and probably the best $20 white wine period, is his regular Bourgogne Blanc, which carries the word Chardonnay on the label. Even his lowest offering, the Bourgogne Blanc, is made entirely of grapes from the Meursault commune, although some of the vines are not within the appellation proper. When I think of Meursault his style of wine is what comes to mind.

The wines are certainly full-bodied and Bocard keeps his wines in barrel for an extended amount of time. Additionally, he avoids stirring the lees. The result is a high level of character and body, but there is little oak present. During our barrel tasting he would repeatedly spit out a wine, tap the barrel he had taken it out of, point at the wood, and shake his head. It was clear that he wanted rich wines that did not show any oak flavors. Meursault is indeed an odd beast as it shows more mineral and less fruit than most Chardonnay. To balance that minerality you need to have a good, rich body and texture, but mineral and oak is normally a really bad flavor combination, especially without fruit.

Bocard’s method of dealing with this is to use a very long, very gentle malolactic fermentation to give the wine fullness without killing the signature of the wine. His wines are also bottled much later than most, so there is a certain relaxed element to them. As I said, his regular Bourgogne Blanc is an outstanding buy. a great expression of white Burgundy, and in reality a poor man’s Meursault.

With the exception of a Aligote, all of Bocard’s other white wines carry the Meursault designation. There is a “Meursault Vieilles Vignes” (Old Vines Meursault), three single vineyard wines, and two vineyard specific Premier Cru wines. All of the wines display the hefty Meursault style. As I’ve said over and over again, the real signature of Meursault is richness. But more than just that, the wines should also have a nutty element to them and a creaminess that doesn’t feel forced upon the wine. What separates Bocard’s upper-end bottlings is the beauty of that creaminess and the way they retain a surprisingly lively level of acids. His Premier Cru “Les Charmes” is amazing, with rich flavors of butter and soft nuts along with a firm, powerful backbone of minerality and acids. There are no Grand Crus in Meursault, but a handful of the Premier Cru vineyards stand above the others. “Les Charmes” is one of those vineyards.

After the tasting we hopped into Bocard’s van and headed out to drive through some vineyards. We took a winding route that curved up along the sloping hills of the Cote de Beaune. We went through a few of the lesser-known villages, and along the way he pointed out to me not only where the appellation boundaries are but also where the vineyards change. Due to the language barrier there wasn’t a lot of information going back and forth, but there was plenty to learn anyway. Just by pointing and saying the names of the vineyards and where their boundaries were Bocard was able to show me quite a bit.

What makes Burgundy special is the rock composition that sits below each vineyard, which effects the drainage (and thereby how deep the roots go) and the nutrients each vine receives. Those twisting roads and paths that cut through vineyards throughout Burgundy are not just haphazard and random; they were put where they were long ago, in some cases centuries ago, because each side of the road had its own distinct characteristics. It is amazing to stand in between two different vineyards and actually be able to see the differences between the two. Someday I hope I can understand exactly how those qualities are expressed in the wines.

As wonderful as the visit was, there was one moment where I really wished we could have been able to speak a bit more. As we driving through vineyards we pulled to the side of the road at one point and stopped. Bocard starred intently into a vineyard, where not too far from us a tractor was going up and down the rows. We sat there for a minute or two, and I finally tried to ask Bocard what he was looking at. Through some broken English, broken French, and some gesturing he finally expressed to me that this was one of his vineyards, and man we were watching was someone he had hired because he couldn’t work the vineyards with his leg injury.

Our view to the tractor was clear, but we were a good 150 yards away (at least) and there was no way to see exactly what he was doing. At least there was no way for me to tell what he was doing. But Bocard clearly could see something, and he was quite focused for a couple of minutes. It was very enlightening to be reminded that even right there, in a car on the side of the road looking out a tractor that was only slowly moving through the vineyards there were numerous things a farmer who had worked that field for several decades could see, and if we had actually walked out and watched the tractor up close I wonder how many more he could have seen. It was a very good reminder of just how hard it is to make great wine and how fine an art it really is.

Bad To The Beaune: A Longhorn In Burgundy

After leaving Lamarche we headed a bit further north to the village of Gevery-Chambertin and Rene Leclerc, our final stop of the day. A small, and I do mean small, producer in the region with less than thirty acres of vines, Leclerc has always been a personal favorite of mine. There are two main reasons for this, the first being the presence of an excellent Bourgogne Rouge that normally can be had for under $20 (I’m not sure of 05 pricing yet). The other reason is the one bottle of Grand Cru Burgundy that I own is Rene Leclerc’s Griotte-Chambertin.

But the real reason I wanted to visit Leclerc is I have always been impressed by the elegant and gentle style of the wines. Leclerc avoids the use of new oak whenever possible and wants to make wines that taste great straight out of the bottle. It strikes me as a classic Burgundy that offers plenty of appeal, in both price and style.

Rene Leclerc is still involved in the winery but our visit would be with his son Francois, and upon arriving I was greeted with quite a site: a true Frenchman wearing a Texas Longhorns hat. This was not just something he was wearing as a joke; it was clearly well worn and broken in and I’ve even found pictures on the internet of him wearing it. Just one of those things you never expect to find: a winemaker in Gevery-Chambertin walking around in a UT hat.

Lamarche was a grand and impressive estate, sort of what you imagine when you think of the major names in Vosne-Romanee. Leclerc was the exact opposite. No sign at all, just a long, fairly narrow warehouse type building that was filled with what you would expect (bottles, boxes, rolls of labels, empty pallets, and all the equipment for winemaking and bottling). Downstairs was a very impressive barrel room with a cellar off to the side. Downstairs as Leclerc was the sort of cellar I think you would shoot a movie scene in if you were trying to get the effect of a small, independent winery and maintain some romanticism.

Francois was fluent in French, having studied in Oregon prior to taking over duties at his family’s Domaine. As a result he was fun to talk to and answered some great questions. He spoke to us briefly upstairs and then the group headed down into the basement to do some barrel tasting. I admit that I was suspicious about the philosophy of avoiding new oak, but as soon as we got into the barrel room I was certain this was no posturing. If you visit the California wineries or look at pictures of barrels on-line they are always pristine and clean, with a single plug sticking up out of the top. That was not the case here.

Every one of the barrels was stained with wine, and in most cases it was clear there had been spillage on more than one occasion. All around the plugs keeping the wine from evaporating were the signs of drips that fell on the barrel during a tasting all the way up to what must have been legitimate spills (maybe a glass or so of wine) during filling or topping off. As we went around I talked to Francois about the age of the barrels and he was quite direct in saying he wanted his wine to taste like wine, not like oak.

Something that I should make clear here is Francois was not just talking about the heavy, vanillin type oak we find in over extracted California cabs. Oak doesn’t have to impart a huge level of flavor that overpowers the wine, it only has to alter the overall wine enough that the unique characteristics of the vineyard it comes from are masked. Remember, we’re talking about Burgundy here and nowhere in the world has had more attention and effort devoted to identifying and separating the vineyards that express unique characteristics. At Leclerc the goal is to let those characteristics shine.

We did start off with the Bourgogne Rouge, before moving into the Gevery-Chambertin wines. Leclerc makes a straight Gevery along with three single-vineyard Gevery wines and the Grand Cru Griotte-Chambertin. Tasting through the four different Gevery wines was interesting. As I’ve said before I don’t really have enough experience to pinpoint the individual traits that define each vineyard, but I did sense the overall Gevery-Chambertin characteristics: big, strong, rich Pinot Noir. However, the wines were not overbearing or intrusive. The fruit and the terroir were the real drive behind each of these wines with the variances coming in terms of spice and smoke, and to a certain extent the structure of the wine. I’ve been well apprised of the challenges you face when making predictions about barrel samples, but in my opinion these wines (2006 vintage) will probably show some truly beautiful Burgundian elements at a young age, probably just as soon as the bottle and travel shock wears off.

Moving on we also tasted the Griotte-Chambertin from the barrel, and it was the wine of the day. While I can’t claim to have expert knowledge with Grand Cru Burgundy I should point out that over the past four months I’ve had several (compared to zero up until then). I feel the one thing that makes them stand out the most to me is the complexity. I’ve had Burgundy that is delicious, and I’ve had Burgundy that I truly feel expresses a specific terroir, but the common thread amongst the Grand Cru wines is an amazing level of complexity in all areas: they are light and refined yet structured and defined, they have rich, deep aromas of smoke and spice and bring to mind the actual soil the grapes come from but have flavors of ripe fruits and sweet berries. And most importantly of all, they pull it off without it feeling like a contradiction or a train wreck.

After the barrel sampling was over we moved over the cellar room and Francois opened some catalog bottles for us. I don’t think it was the goal, but he certainly demonstrated that just because the wines are light and elegant doesn’t mean they won’t age. He opened bottles going back to 1998, and then just for fun grabbed and 1988 and a 1978 Gevrey-Chambertin single vineyard (I’m pretty sure they were Combe Aux Moines) and the 1988 was still showing quite well. Admittedly the fruit was fading a touch, but the structure was proper and the acids were still balanced. There was nothing wrong with the 1978, but in truth the fruit was missing; at twenty years of age the wines were still standing up proud, but by age thirty the life was gone.

I did get to ask Francois some interesting questions, and to put it mildly he was quite honest. Our talk offered me some very powerful and useful insight into not just the winemaker in Burgundy—where the goal is for the winemaker to have as little impact on the wine as possible—but into the philosophy of Old World winemakers in general. There are a few topics I will revisit after I finish blogging about each of the visits, and you can certainly expect Francois to show up in some of those.