Waiting for Joguet

It’s been a while since I’ve looked in on the work that François-Xavier Barc is doing at Domaine Charles Joguet in Chinon. FX worked at Domaine Joguet for a brief period in the late 90’s and then returned in 2003 as head winemaker. I’ve been on a bit of a Loire Cab Franc kick of late, so I figured it was about time to check back in on one of the theoretically more precocious offerings from one of FX’s first years at the helm, the benchmark vintage of 2005.


Chinon “Les Petites Roches,” Charles Joguet 2005
$20. 13.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Kermit Lynch, Berkeley, CA.

I love the color of young, freshly poured Chinon, like crushed violets, bubbling with purple and blue highlights. In the case of Joguet’s 2005 “Les Petites Roches,” however, those colors quickly morphed to a dark, earthy red once settled in the glass. The immediate shot of weediness it delivered on the nose didn’t prepare me for the density that followed on the palate. Smoke, tobacco and log pile aromas emerged soon enough, matching more obviously with the wine’s overall impact. Gravelly, raspy yet relatively gentle tannins speak of the wine’s terroir – young vineyards planted on the southern bank of the Vienne River. And that texture, as so often with Chinon, cries out for food. Chinon almost always makes me hungry. But this is not your casual bistro-style Chinon. It’s too dark and deep for that, too serious.

That seriousness though, as impressive as it comes across, might just be the wine’s own worst enemy. Thirty minutes in the glass helps to brighten up the wine’s nose and bring out a touch of freshness that was masked at first. But the wine still lacks the crunch, energy and liveliness that I expect and hope for from a younger vine expression of Chinon. I want this to be fresh and pure. Instead, it’s shrouded and foursquare.

Perhaps it’s the vintage at work. 2005 was a warm year that gave wines of greater than usual concentration in the middle-Loire, something that’s reflected not just on the label of “Les Petites Roches” – 13.5% alcohol (13.8 actually, per my original notes) – but also by the touch of heat displayed on the wine’s finish.

Or perhaps winemaking decisions are masking the wine’s natural expression. Its combination of color tone, concentration and relative lack of aromatic finesse – even if additional scents of rhubarb, cinnamon bark and cigarette tobacco did emerge on day two – suggest a fermentation that may have been allowed to run too hot or too long.

Or perhaps, just perhaps, it’s only in a dumb phase right now.

Whatever the case may be, though, it’s not good raw materials or talent that are lacking. There’s definite potential here and I’ll hold my remaining bottles for another year or two in hope of positive evolution. It’s only a lack of transparency – something Brooklynguy wrote so pointedly about in his recent piece on the Chinon of Bernard Baudry – that’s holding this wine back from clearly expressing its place, from being all it could be.