Roadtrip!

Two of the winemaking crew and myself set off once again this week to discuss wines from the vintage – and have a little fun. This time, we moved East, towards the areas of Beaujolais, Macon, Chablis and Sancerre. I’ll include some links below so you can learn more about the areas, and I’ll tell you what I learned. We tasted wines from the vintage, and in some special cases, got a chance to taste older vintages. I also had some amazing guides along the way that were kind enough to venture into the vineyards with me, give me some insight into the history of the areas, and treat me to some darn good food.

Beaujolais

At this time of year, every town, every restaurant, every wine-shop and every bar has signs up that say “Beaujolais Nouveau est arrive!” The third Thursday in November is a special day (you can learn more via a wonderful article at: http://www.intowine.com/beaujolais2.html). We happened upon Beaujolais just after the “premier,” and for the most part, met with winemakers and production staff that looked as if they’d just been run over by trains. Getting the wine ready and into bottle just a few weeks after its been received (as grapes) is no easy task – it still goes completely through fermentation and malo-lactic, even though maceration only lasts a few days – read the article for more info.

Gamay is the main grape planted here, and, sadly – I could do completely without it. Learning about the area, the history, and the wines was fascinating (did you know there are 10 Beaujolais AOC’s?), but as I say, the wines were not. The style is very fruity, especially for the wines made especially for the yearly release of the nouveau. They hardly seem like wine at all, and are full of fermentation aromas of banana, plastic, and some sulfite. They are easy to drink, because of lack of tannin, but they really don’t taste all that nice. Of course, this is obviously just due to my lack of experience with them, as they do not resemble wines that I’ve made, or that I’ve chosen to drink. However, it’s no longer a secret to me why the U.S. represents only 3.0% of the consumption of Beaujolais wines.

The people were nice, and the area beautiful. One funny story.. well, two, really:

At lunch, as I tend to do, because it’s easy, I ordered the “plate de jour (plate of the day).” I thought, upon hearing it explained, that it was sausage. You can tell already that it wasn’t. It was, in fact, some sort of gratin made from cheese, spices, and the lining of a cow’s throat. Not cool. It only tasted half as bad as it smelled, luckily.

Later that day, as we tasted yet more of the fruity liquid the area folks call wine, I was offered what appeared to be some delicious candied walnuts. I was thinking, “yeah, this makes sense, walnuts would go perfectly with this wine.” Apparently not as well as twice-fried pig lard. Yep, that’s right. What resembled a walnut drenched in brown sugar was, in fact, fat rendered from a fried pig, that was then additionally breaded with something (I didn’t ask), and re-fried. Twice fried pork fat. Did you get that? – fat, fried one more time, in yet more fat. I wanted out of Beaujolais, badly.

The memory of my face when I realized I hadn’t gotten what I thought I had, still makes them laugh.

Pouilly-Fuisse

We moved to Pouilly-Fuisse next, through an area called Macon. In these areas, Chardonnay is king. It was fascinating for me, being the maker of such a large amount of Chardonnay, to have an opportunity to visit such places. Pouilly-Fuisse was amazingly beautiful, and the wines were unreal.

Pouilly-Fuisse is an appellation that grows and makes only Chardonnay. The grapes are grown on hillsides in extremely rocky soils. The appellation surrounds 5 villages but is very small. The wines are extraordinary, with an almost airy quality. They show notes of roasted almond and honey, while retaining an interesting floral character. They are wildly famous everywhere in the world, and the money coming into the area is of a serious amount.

We tasted at a number of small production facilities. As mentioned above, the money coming into the area was quickly apparent, as even the smallest facilities were updated and new. Tanks were custom fabricated, cellars were perfectly and automatically controlled, etc. Things here are very, very nice – and the wines are as well. We had wonderful visits here, and the brokers we spent time with were exceptional, and very fluent in English (always a bonus).

Chablis

Again, the wine and grapes are 100% Chardonnay in Chablis. Sad to say, the most amazing of landscapes gets a bit homogenous over time. The area around Chablis is gorgeous, and the wines, again, are very special. The best part of the area is the smell. It’s pruning time, and when the vines are pruned the cut wood is burned (the little bbq pit looking thing in the picture will be used to burn them). The burning creates, as you’d imagine, a wonderfully smoky smell. Every time you step outside it’s exciting – the cold air (it snowed while I was there) and the smoky smell are an exhilarating blend. Here, in contrast to Pouilly-Fuisse, the wines are a bit richer, despite higher acids, and have a creamy, almost aged, character, even when new. Strange however, that they are very delicate and typically very acidic. In fact, my teeth and mouth hate me currently, as we routinely tasted Chablis prior to ML that were pH 2.9-3.1. If you’re not familiar with pH and what it means, straight vinegar is typically pH 3.0,while lemon juice is somewhere around 2.5. Ouch.

Chablis is a huge area, and keeps getting bigger, to the dismay of many who’ve worked and lived in it for a time. Unfortunately, this appellation did a poor job of protecting the name, and in the US, as a result, many people think of cheap white wine when they hear the word Chablis. Real Chablis doesn’t come in a box, and it’s not made by Franzia or Gallo. Chablis is a real, remarkable place, making some of the world’s best white wines.

Sancerre

North-west from Chablis we made our way to the small appellation of Sancerre. Sancerre is a curious place. It is the lineless boarder between the more eastern Burgundy and Western France. In other words, although the only white grown is Sauvignon Blanc (a Bordeaux, and hence “western” wine), the red is Pinot Noir (a Burgundian, and more typically eastern red).

I knew of the Sauvignon Blanc, but had no idea of the Pinot Noir that awaited me. I suppose this is due, in part, to the fact that the appellation forbids the mention of “Pinot Noir” on the label, and allows only “Sancerre Rouge.” I’m telling you now, if you like fruit forward, barrel driven, yummy, caramel infused Pinot Noirs with nice acidity and balanced tannins – Get some Sancerre Rouge. This wine is no joke, and without the “Pinot Noir” notation, it’s priced much better than most Pinot Noirs from any other notable appellation.

I tasted many fantastic Sauvignon Blancs here. The wines are so much different than California and/or Bordeaux Sauvignon Blancs. They are not green. They are not over-ripe. They are not thin and they are not heavy. They have, what I found, to be an amazing balance of lemon-lime and tropical fruit. Some had ripeness (bell-pepper, jalapeno pepper, etc.) issues, but not many. The most interesting thing for me, I think, was the acid. There wasn’t nearly as much as I’d expect. These wines were somewhere in the neighborhood of 6.0 g/L (tartaric acid), and not up to the 7.0+ I’d expected. Amazing. Balanced and wonderful, without the tart acid, and without the greeny, grassy, cut-lawn rotting in your green-waste container that I really (if you couldn’t tell) don’t like. Fun stuff.

The drive back to Chateau Magnol was long, but the trip had been rewarding. Laurent and Bernard, who had been with me on the trip, are two amazing men, friends, and winemakers. We get along fabulously, and I can’t say thank you enough to them for putting up with me, my American ways, my propensity for eating steak (because it’s a sure bet in the world of fried pork fat and snails), and their being ever willing to take French and turn it into English purely for my benefit.

I’m tired.

Thanksgiving has made me nostalgic, and I miss being home for my favorite holiday. Not to worry, I had roasted chicken, over-done green beans and fries (it seems calling them French Fries would be a bit repetitive here) here that day, and made sure to think of all I’m so thankful for: Work I like, opportunity I never thought I’d have, friends of course, and family I don’t spend nearly enough time with. And the dogs. I really, really miss my dogs.

See you all soon.
JB