Beaucoup du Beaujolais: Return of the B-Side

It's been way too long since I filed my last (and first) B-side report, something I originally intended to be a fairly regular installment here at MFWT.  So, when I recently gave the once over to the collection of dead soldiers that had accumulated on my kitchen table and realized that 80% of them were Beaujolais of one ilk or another, I figured it was due time for a return.

The hits—these could've/should've been A-sides (had I been studying in addition to enjoying):

Morgon, Marcel Lapierre 2008 and 2009
$25 and 22. 12 and 13% alcohol.  Cork.  Importer: Kermit Lynch, Berkeley, CA.
In the wake of Marcel Lapierre's recent death, I'm willing to hazard a guess that more of his wines have been consumed worldwide over the last two months than of any other artisan scale Beaujolais producer.  I'd bet the same applies to purchase rates, especially of the 2009, which piles vintage fervor on top of sentimentality. I'd love to buy some more of the '09 while the getting is still good but it's the 2008 that I'd really like to drink today.  Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with the '09—full of bright, ripe fruit, juicy texture and a touch of earth—but it's still wearing a layer of baby fat, not yet ready to reveal its underlying stuffing.  The '08, on the other hand, is a perfect example of the old maxim that a great farmer and producer can make wonderful wines in so-called bad vintages.  2008 may have been difficult relative to 2009 but Lapierre's Morgon shows it only in its relative lightness and transparency when compared to the '09 (or good bottles of the '07); at heart, it's pure, elegant and lovely to drink.

Fleurie "Clos de la Roilette," Coudert Père et Fils 2009
$20.  13% alcohol.  Cork.  Importer: Louis/Dressner, New York, NY.
As much as I've been enjoying the Lapierre and any number of other 2009 Beaujolais and Cru Beaujolais, I've yet to find one that represents a better value than Coudert's Fleurie "Clos de la Roilette."  It's already received A-side treatment here, albeit in brief, so please allow me to reiterate, even more briefly, that the '09 Roilette is simply delicious.  The last couple of bottles I've tried suggest that it may be tightening up a bit but it's still delivering great pleasure.  If you haven't tried it, do.


The indie out-takes—throwin' down some funk:

Beaujolais-Villages, Damien Coquelet 2009
$15.  13% alcohol.  Cork.  Importer: Louis/Dressner, New York, NY.
A recent bottle was my first experience with Damien Coquelet's Beaujolais-Villages.  My immediate impressions put it right smack in the middle of the "does method trump terroir?" discussion that's been going on here recently.  There's an unmistakably natty, funky character to it that comes close to without entirely dominating the wine's sense of Beaujolais-ness.  For now, I can say that it is eminently drinkable, and there's nothing wrong with that.

Moulin-à-Vent, Domaine des Côtes de la Molière 2009 (Isabelle et Bruno Perraud) 2009
$22. 12.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Jeffrey Alpert Selections, New York, NY.
This didn't do nearly as much for me (at least not at first) as did the theoretically simpler "Côtes de Poquelin" from the same estate.  In the first couple of days open, I found it to be much more an expression of natural wine making than of Moulin-à-Vent.  Mind you, I don't mind finding obvious natty signatures in a wine, just so long as they don't obscure the wine's terroir (sound familiar?).  Going back to the wine after at least seven days (my gut tells me it was closer to ten but I didn't keep exact track), though, it was showing a good deal better.  Still not the most profound example of Moulin-à-Vent, but a much clearer expression of cru Beaujolais than in its first days.  The "Poquelin," it should be noted, also performed really well over the course of several days, providing solid evidence, especially when combined with this experience, that sans soufre wines are not always as fragile as they're made out to be.


The misses—if I were still a music director, these might not have made the playlist:

Beaujolais-Villages, Gilles Gelin 2009
$16.  13% alcohol.  Cork.  Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.
and
Beaujolais-Villages "Tracot," Domaine DuBost (Jean-Paul Dubost) 2009
$16.  12.5% alcohol.  Cork.  Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.
Two more new wines from producers who are new to me.  If I'd tasted these blind, I think I'd have pegged them both as being from 2008 rather than 2009 as they showed attributes that suggested the not so great side of the '08 vintage: lean texture, tangy, confected fruit, and slightly green acidity.  The Gelin started out at that candied end of the spectrum but improved somewhat on day two.  DuBost's "Tracot," on the other hand, showed its best right out of the gates, all but falling apart by the next day.  DuBost has been getting decent traction of "natural-leaning" wine lists of late but this effort leaves me wondering why.  I wouldn't rule out revisiting other wines from these two estates but will not be inclined to plunk down $16 again on either of these particular bottlings.


The jury's still out—put them away for a while, bring them back later for another hearing :

Morgon Côte du Py "Vieilles Vignes," Jean-Marc Burgaud 2008 
$16.  13% alcohol.  Cork.  Importer: Free Run, Seattle, WA.
Here's a wine that shows the '08 vintage character in spades—lean, taut, somewhat unyielding—yet all the components are in place.  Jean-Marc Burgaud's Morgon "Côte du Py" is yet to show the elegance already displayed by Lapierre's Morgon but it's also not showing any of the unattractive characteristics of under-ripeness or chaptalization so common in the 2008 vintage in Beaujolais.  I've somewhat accidentally amassed a three-year vertical ('07-'09), so I'll give this a rest and give them all a revisit at a later date.

Côte de Brouilly "Cuvée Zaccharie," Château Thivin (Claude Geoffray) 2007
$39.  12.5% alcohol.  Cork.  Importer: Kermit Lynch, Berkeley, CA.
and
Côte de Brouilly "Cuvée les Ambassades," Domaine du Pavillon de Chavannes 2009 
$19.  12.5% alcohol.  Cork.  Importer: Vintage '59, Washington, DC.
I may be comparing apples to oranges in the vintage department with this pairing but we're definitely talking oranges to oranges when it comes to the wines.  Both showed intense concentration and the kind of scale, in terms of body, color and texture, that one does not typically associate with Beaujolais.  Both also show a marked oak influence, especially Thivin's "Cuvée Zaccharie," which sees 10% new barrique and isn't shy about it.  These are unquestionably well made wines but their, I'll say it again, intense concentration is hard for me to get my arms around.  These are both wines that, if I had unlimited space (and budget, in the case of the Thivin), I'd like to put away not just for a little while but for a few years.  But I don't....

PS: In spite of the poor color rendering in my photos of the labels from Château Thivin and Domaine du Pavillon de Chavannes, it's hard not to notice that they look practically identical.  The intertwined history of the two estates is a typically French story of marriage, inheritance, birth, death and separation; it's not easy to follow but you'll find a good telling of the story on the Vintage '59 website.

Intro only...

Molière, Poquelin, and the Beaujolais That Isn't

Though the professor's name has long since escaped me, I still have quite concrete memories of a course in Comparative French Literature that I undertook during my years as an undergraduate student at the University of Maryland. While all writing in the course was conducted in English, students in the class were expected to be conversant in French and to read, wherever possible, in the original French. I managed to scrape through the class somehow, but I was in way over my head. It's as close as I ever came to having a relationship with the works, whether tragedy or farce, of Molière.

Now, fast forward abut 25 years, to the context of wine rather than 17th Century French literature.... If my understanding is correct, the estate owned and farmed by Isabelle and Bruno Perraud, the Domaine des Côtes de la Molière, takes its name not from any literary reference. Rather, it comes from the name of the small village of Molière, just outside of Vauxrenard, about nine kilometers west of Chénas, six north of Chiroubles, where the core of the Perraud family's vineyards are located. There's no question, though, that the literary history bound up in the name of Molière does not escape them, for the name of the wine I write about today, the Perrauds' "Côte de Poquelin," plays on the name of their town, the name of their estate, and on the more widely known history of Molière, the stage name assumed by the famou playwright and actor who was born Jean-Baptiste Poquelin.

Vin de France "Côte de Poquelin," Domaine des Côtes de la Molière (Isabelle et Bruno Perraud) 2009
$15. 12.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Jeffrey Alpert Selections, New York, NY.
2009 is the first-ever release of "Côte de Poquelin." Popped and poured, it was surprisingly dark in the glass, purplish-red, fading to pale violet at the rim. Initially, its aromas were somewhat subdued, giving hints of black cherry, spice and a suggestion of stems; correspondingly, its textures were somewhat stern, albeit quite nicely structured and pleasantly energetic, carried along by a firm acid attack and fresh, ever so slightly green tannins. If I didn't know this were a varietal expression of Gamay, I would have guessed there was some Pinot Noir in the mix. With time in the glass, though, the wine found greater clarity, with black cherry lightening to raspberry and indefinite spiciness focusing to a distinct streak of white pepper. Definitely a nice food wine.

Re-extracting the cork on day two yielded a pop that had me thinking a little overnight fermentation may have occurred but a quick sniff and taste proved that not to be the case. (In retrospect, I'm sure the pop was simply the result of my enthusiasm.) In fact, that quick sniff and taste revealed an even purer expression of Gamay-Beaujolais than in evidence the day before. Cutting to the chase, sometimes you just have to sit back and say, "Okay, this is delicious wine." Pure and simple.

If you caught my references to Beaujolais above, you may be wondering why this wine, produced in the Beaujolais-Villages, is not labeled accordingly. I pondered that myself, wondering if the wine had been declassified by the INAO, or perhaps produced in some way outside of the appellation regulations. Not wanting to guess and not finding much in the way of answers available in the public domain, I went straight to the source.

Isabelle Perraud, vigneronne and co-proprietor at the Domaine des Côtes de la Molière, confirmed that the INAO had declassified one of the estate's wines in the past, their 2005 Moulin à Vent, which the Perrauds subsequently renamed and released as a Vin de Table called simply "Côte de la Molière." The decision to release "Côte de Poquelin" as a Vin de France, though, was made entirely and voluntarily by Isabelle and Bruno. The pair views the wine as their Beaujolais-Villages but, along with an increasing number of artisan vigneron(ne)s, have opted for the greater flexibility, perhaps even the more individual expression, offered under the aegis of the Vin de France designation. (If your French is up to speed, or if you're willing to muddle through a somewhat awkward Google translation, you can read about Isabelle's take on the matter via her blog.)

Speaking of individual expression in the context of wine growing, you'll find it, worn like a badge, right on the label of the domaine's wines. "Wine made from organically grown grapes, un-filtered, not chaptalized, raised and bottled at the estate without use of sulfur or any other additives." And on the side of the label (out of view in the above photo), "Raisins cueillis sur une vigne en harmonie avec la nature" ("grapes picked from a vine in harmony with nature"). Presenting such information so plainly, in so forward a manner, with more words given to the approach, one could argue, than to the wine itself, might strike some as natural-wine marketing. However, I get the sense that it's just the Perrauds' way of expressing pride in their work and their wines. Their family has been farming vines in the Beaujolais for six generations, with Bruno and Isabelle taking the lead in 1988. Ten years later they made the decision to stop using conventional farming techniques. Six of their ten hectares were certified organic in 2002 and the rest of the farm is under conversion. Their wines, like "Côte de Poquelin," farmed at minuscule yields, fermented on native yeasts, made with no nonsense and nothing added, are like their new babies. Pure and simple.

Allow me to end, if you will, by saying that I'm indebted to my friend Bill for passing this bottle along to me. Without such generosity, I most likely would have tasted this wine, at some point in time and in one vintage or another, but I'm glad to have gotten to know it now.

Intro only...