TDF 2010 Stage 7: Tournus to Station des Rousses

I received the following cryptic memo, penned in blood, last night. How the author managed to attach digital photographs I'm still not sure. Through exhaustive research, I was able to attribute this text to none other than Cory Cartwright (Signor Saignée), and the seemingly mystical photographs to Guilhaume Gerard (fka, The Wine Digger). A hearty thank you to them both. Don't forget to follow Cory's 32 Days of Natural Wine (now with even more stages than Le Tour!).

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From this chart it appears the riders have a series of impossible 50% and higher grade climbs, followed by whiplash roller coaster style drops. If anyone makes it through this gauntlet alive i would put good money on them winning this whole thing.

i feel sorry for the riders during this stage. Not because there's hills or whatever, i figure they signed up for this act of masochism themselves not out of some desire to win or having to atone for the sins of a past life, but because they won't be able to sample the cuisine of the Jura.

To the south of the course you can clearly see Bourg-en-Bresse, the home of the famed poulet that has its own AOC, and to the north you have the home of comte, the giant cheesewheels that are worth the trip on their own, not to mention the other varieties of sausages and cheeses and so on and so forth. Basically if you like to eat (and i mean serious meat/potatoes/cheese eating, not flavored pop rocks or what the hell ever) this is your kind of place.


And then there is the wine.

The Jura is Terroir Country™. And not the small scale "this hill is turned .000001 degree this way so we charge 400 more dollars than that terroir and if you don't like it talk to that critic or look at this pricing sheet did we mention we're a first growth? thanks again for your business" terroir (although they have some prime sites). This is the all-encompassing terroir of food/wine/people/culture. Sure they grow some pinot noir and chardonnay, which the world knows about, but the grapes most grown are savagnin, trousseau and poulsard, rather extreme examples of "local" grapes. While the world has slowly woken to the oxidized savagnins, the ultralight poulsards, and the more serious trousseaus, and the legendary Vin Jaunes, the local market still rules, with the fortified macvin du Jura and sparkling crémant du Jura.

High on Pupillin.

It's a place where both the beautifully baroque modernism of the French natural wine movement (perhaps exemplified best by Pierre Overnoy and Emmanuel Houillon who make wines of stunning purity from methods partly adopted from Jules Chauvet through his disciple Jacques Neauport) stand side by side with staunch traditionalists such as Michel Gahier and Jacques Puffeney who are getting back to the continuity of Jura winemaking.

Jacques Puffeney

Emmanuel Houillon

When i visited we went to meet a young naturalist vigneron who perhaps exemplifies this push and pull that is making the Jura what i believe to be the most interesting wine region in the world. When we went he was brimming with ideas about wine, he had experiments going of all sorts, and more ideas of experiments he wanted to do than his small winery could possibly hold. But back in one corner was his pride and joy. It wasn't some carbonically macerated poulsard brimming with VA and barely distinguishable from a badly made gamay or grenache that represents the genre for so many these days. It was his first Château-Chalon, that staid, once great vin jaune (it was once listed with Meursault, Coulée de Serrant, Château Grillet and Château d'Yquem as one of the five great wine wine terroirs of France). Its reputation has since slipped, partly due to a change in tastes and partly due to, well, there just aren't any good producers anymore but there are a tiny number of producers trying to take it back. But here he was, in the midst of all this chaos, showing off his connection to hundreds of years of winemaking tradition and beaming over it.

Note: All that was a metaphor for bicycling.

Next up: Into the mountains and up to New York.

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The Pleasures of Jacques Puffeney's Poulsard and Pot Pie

The poultry, egg, lamb and pork purveyor at my local farmers market sells turkey pot pies. In the world of farmers markets, such an item is referred to as a “value added product” – something that’s not a direct product of the land or farm but is produced (or processed) from the farm’s goods. The pot pie has become a near weekly habit for me since its introduction at the market last year; in a way that’s odd, as there’s really nothing outstanding or out of the ordinary about the pies. They’re about as simple as simple gets: a reasonably good pastry crust filled with chunks of white and dark meat turkey, potatoes, onions, peas, carrots and a somewhat bland, creamy sauce. It’s that simplicity that makes them work so well for me. Not only are they satisfying; they’re also a perfect foil to any number of styles and varieties of wine. Satisfying and wine friendly? That’s my kind of value added product. Last week’s pie paired quite nicely with….

Arbois Poulsard “M,” Jacques Puffeney 2005
$30. 13.5% alcohol. Cork. Rosenthal Wine Merchant, New York, NY.
Puffeney’s wines may be a little pricey for a typical midweek repast, but I’ve been on vacation the last couple of days so I figured why not give myself a treat. Straight from the bottle, this is lean and firm in both acidic and tannic impact. Its color is a completely transparent, pale ruby, tinged green/orange at the rim. With a few moments to settle, aromas emerged of red tea, rose petals, teak and tart cherry fruit. Like its color, the wine’s flavors are delicate but intensely penetrating. If you’ve been looking for a “light” wine to serve with hearty fare – think duck, beef daube or, why not, pot pies – this may be your ticket.

At its initial serving temperature, I found the aromas and texture a tad off kilter so I put the bottle out on the porch for a while (on what was probably one of the last cool nights of the season). Sure enough, at a slightly cooler temp – and no doubt helped along by a little more air – the wine felt gentler and found its focus. Scents of potpourri and spice were even clearer. And the wine’s natural acidity magnified and built upon the flavors of the meal. If you’re looking to try a bottle and happen to be in a hurry, decant it. After an hour, it was even more openly tasty, closer to what I remember from my last tasting when the wine had clearly benefited from some time in the glass.

It bears repeating from that occasion, by the way, that, “’M’ is one of two cuvées of Poulsard produced by Puffeney from all of 1.2 acres planted to the vine on his property. It’s named for Jacques’ daughter Marie, who favors a fruity-style expression of Poulsard.” It also bears adding that Puffeney’s Poulsard undergoes 15-20 day fermentation in tank, followed by malo in old oak foudres. The wine is then barrel aged for 24-30 months, depending on the vintage, before being bottled with neither fining nor filtration.

I wasn’t quite as enamored with “M” on day two, as it faded more quickly than I would have expected. The aromas were still quite enchanting – red apples and apple skin, more teak and a whiff of sunny beach and ocean air (perplexing given the wine’s mountain origins). However, the wine had lost some of its nerve and complexity; its tension had completely relaxed, almost gone slack. Lovely red fruit kept it from being a complete let down, though. Not a bad treat, all things considered, and definitely a fine companion to two days of pot pie.

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Mountain Madness, Mostly

Tony McClung, National Sales Manager for Rosenthal Wine Merchant, stopped in Philly last week to lead a whirlwind tasting tour through the mountainous wine regions of eastern France and northwestern Italy. (I stole Tony's spiffy portrait, at right, from his Facebook page. Thanks, Tony.) Wines originating from high altitude vineyards make up a sizable portion of the Rosenthal portfolio. In fact, Luigi Ferrando – whose sparkling Erbaluce Tony poured to set the stage for his seminar – was the first producer to sign on with Neal Rosenthal when he started his import business in 1978.

Erbaluce di Caluso Brut “Cuvée del Fondatore,” Luigi Ferrando NV
Luigi Ferrando’s estate consists of steeply terraced vineyards in the communes of Caluso and Carema, both located in north-central Piemonte near its border with the Valle d’Aosta. All work in the vines is done by hand, as the slopes are too steep for machine-assisted farming. “Cuvée del Fondatore” is a sparkling example of the local white specialty, Erbaluce di Caluso, made in the traditional (Champagne) method. Its waxy texture combines with flavors of slightly bitter baked apples and marzipan to deliver substantial richness on the palate; the wine’s hint of sweetness is balanced by brisk acidity. Minerality and a touch of herbaceousness both appear on the midpalate, while nuances of brazil nuts and black tea linger on the wine’s finish. Though served as an aperitif within the context of Tony’s class, I’d much rather see this on the table alongside cardoon and cheese antipasto, which is something of a Piedmontese specialty.

Blanc de Morgex et de La Salle, Ermes Pavese 2007
The lighter, brighter entry in the evening’s opening pair of sit down whites was Ermes Pavese’s 2007 Blanc de Morgex et de La Salle, aka Chasselas but grown in this case at 1200 meters in the Valle d’Aosta, where the vine is known as Prié Blanc. Phylloxera has yet to find its way to these upper reaches, thus enabling Ermes to work with vines planted on their original rootstock (franc de pied), which he propagates by pushing shoots from his existing vines into pots until they take root, later to be clipped and moved to a new home in the vineyard. The wine’s strikingly mineral nose also shows a still-lingering yeast influence, along with intense scents of lemon pith. Delicately grapey in flavor, it’s crisp, clean and easy wine that shows a kick of bitter melon fruit on the finish.

L’Étoile, Domaine de Montbourgeau 2005
L’Étoile is a tiny AOC in the Jura, named for the Jurassic period fossilized worms shaped like starfish (“étoile” means “star” in French) that are found in large quantities in the area’s subsoil. Montbourgeau is one of only six producers in L’Étoile and, as far as I (and Tony) can tell, is the only winery to export any of its produce to the US market. A blend of Savagnin and Chardonnay, the wine is produced in an intentionally oxidative style, as the broader textures delivered under oxygen’s influence help to balance the wine’s naturally enamel stripping acid levels. When first poured, it delivered distinct aromas of decaying leaves, morphing after 20 minutes into a much more Sherry-like nose. It reminded me very much, in fact, of Manzanilla Pasada, with its salty minerality and intensely gripping acid and extract levels. This one threw the class for a loop. I dug it.

Canavese Rosso “La Torrazza,” Luigi Ferrando 2007
Shifting to red, Tony took us full circle, right back to Luigi Ferrando. “La Torrazza” is a blend of Nebbiolo and Barbera, grown on the glacial soils in Canavese, an area that surrounds Caluso in north-central Piedmont. Even after the distinctive aromatic profile of Montbourgeau’s L’Étoile, this was unquestionably the most pungent wine of the night. Scents of sweaty armpits, pine needles, sheep pasture and as one student insisted, male cat’s pee, were all in evidence. Tony suggested that the wine’s unusual aromas are a side-effect of working with slightly under-ripe Nebbiolo, a characteristic of the cool, difficult 2007 vintage in the area. Funky, definitely, but it still delivered drinking pleasure via a core of dark red berry and wild plum fruit. Though perhaps not the most technically correct wine of the lineup, at under $20 it’s certainly worth exploring.


Tony's slideshow for the class at Tria Fermentation School gave a glimpse or two into his sense of humor. The photo isn't the greatest but check out the size of Puffeney's mitt wrapped around that dainty little tasting glass.
Arbois “Poulsard M,” Jacques Puffeney 2005
“M” is one of two cuvées of Poulsard produced by Puffeney from all of 1.2 acres planted to the vine on his property. It’s named for Jacques’ daughter Marie, who favors a fruity-style expression of Poulsard. Pale ruby and rose rimmed in hue, with enticing aromas of freshly fallen leaves and wild, tart cherries, followed up by flavors of rose hips, pine sap and red delicious apple skin. A classic example of the fact that lightness of body and color certainly do not preclude intensity and depth of flavor, it delivered savor and tactile complexity galore. I’d love to pair it with roasted pheasant or other small game birds. WOTN in my book.


Grosjean's vineyards, high in the hills of the Valle d'Aosta.
Vallée d’Aoste Torrette Supèrieur “Vigne Rovetta,” Grosjean Frères 2005
The brothers Grosjean are among the newest producers in Rosenthal’s camp, joining just three years ago. Their Torrette Superieur is a blend of 85% Petit Rouge, 5% Cornalin and 10% Fumin, from vineyards situated between 1000-1600 meters in altitude in the Valle d’Aosta. Though steep enough to render tractors and other machinery superfluous, the slopes on the Grosjeans’ property are just gentle enough to permit planting without cutting terraces into the hillside. This is quite elegant wine, with a nose of tar, clove, smoke and black fruits echoed along with an extra lacing of baking spices in the mouth. High acid with a gentle but persistent tannic structure. I’m thinking rabbit stew….

Saint-Joseph “Les Pierres Sèches,” Yves Cuilleron 2006
Here’s where the “mostly” in my title comes in, as Tony’s inclusion of Saint-Joseph pushes the “mountain wine” envelope. It’s not all that far from the Alps, though, and between the steeply sloped vineyards tumbling down to the Rhône below and a relatively cool climate, I’m willing to let him slide. The two wines from Yves Cuilleron certainly provided contrast to the evening’s other entries. Rosenthal’s relationship with the Cuilleron family goes back 27 years, to a time when the estate was overseen by Yves’ uncle. The 2006 “Les Pierres Sèches” (the dry rocks) rouge showed classic Northern Rhône aromatics of mixed red berries, nutmeg, hothouse flowers and white pepper. Its vibrant, blood red color was matched by its rich, sanguine mouthfeel. One of four vineyard designated Saint-Josephs in Cuilleron’s arsenal, it comes from a granitic soil base and ages for 18 months in barriques. Roast pork or duck breast with a red wine sauce au poivre would work really well, methinks.

Vin de Table “Roussillière” (MMVII), Yves Cuilleron NV
Cuillerons sees fit to produce a liquoreux wine from his vines in and around Saint-Joseph. The AOC authorities don’t see fit to allow for sweet wine under the local appellations, so “Roussillière,” hits the market as a Vin de Table, a designation that allows neither vintage dating nor mention of the grape varieties involved. Yves gets around the vintage rule, as do so many other individualistic producers, by using code – simple roman numberals in this case. As for the blend, per Cuilleron’s website this is an “assemblage de trios cépages blanc” – the translation, given the area, being Roussanne, Marsanne and Viognier. The wine achieves its sweetness through a triple threat of late harvest, botrytis and stopped fermentation. The result is quite delicious, buoyed with just enough acidity to keep its unctuous texture from weighing down the palate. Aromas of marmalade and aluminum signal the botrytized aspect of the wine, while lush scents of peach and apricot nectar, along with hints of mint and basis, anchor it to its place.

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Notes from a Sunday

The first wild salmon of the season, from the Columbia River I believe, provided ample reason to get together with some of the usual suspects last Sunday to enjoy a meal, watch the finale of the first road stage of the Giro d’Italia, see the Flyers lose to the Penguins in NHL playoff action, and pull a few corks along the way. A mostly unplanned Pinot Noir theme turned out to pay dividends at the table.

Marsannay Rosé, Domaine Collotte 2007
Salmon pink, with just a tinge of copper and rose petal at the edges. Clean and fruity in style, with aromas of spring peas and strawberry. Simple, feminine, very pretty and eminently quaffable, this bears – not surprisingly – more in common with other cool climate rosés, such as Sancerre and Chinon, than with the more herbaceous and often sturdier rosés of Provence and other sunnier climes. Choice as an aperitif, I could also see this pairing nicely with a picnic of cold chicken and crusty bread. $18. 12% alcohol. Natural cork. Importer: Weygandt-Metzler, Unionville, PA.


Arbois Pinot Noir, Jacques Puffeney 2004
Though I think any of the evening’s wines would have worked well with the dee-lish dish of wild salmon, braised corn and shiitakes served up by my generous host, Puffeney’s Pinot Noir was serendipitously perfect. Twangy, edgy and full of savory acidity, with cherry pit and mineral elements on the palate. Initial aromas of wintergreen and sous-bois led with aeration to sweeter aromas of strawberry-rhubarb crumble, all finished off by a hint of seashell, solid mid-palate feel and pretty decent length. Excellent food wine and, while not inexpensive, a pretty solid value as it stands right up to most red Burgundy at the same price point. Plus, it’ll earn you more wine geek bonus points. $25. 13% alcohol. Natural cork. Importer: Rosenthal Wine Merchants, New York, NY.

Nuits-Saint-Georges “Vieilles Vignes,” Domaine Robert Chevillon 2004
Some of the foremost authorities on the wines of Burgundy write of Chevillon with words of reverence. To quote just one, Matt Kramer writes:

“Simply put, this is the supreme domaine in Nuits-Saint Georges…. This is Nuits-Saint Georges as it should be but so rarely is: concentrated, tannic, almost painfully intense, yet with no apparent winemaking signature.”
- from Making Sense of Burgundy, 1990

That the painful intensity and tannic structure have already subsided in this ’04 from Chevillon – if they were indeed there earlier on – goes hand in hand with my other immediate impressions. This is delicate, graceful and deep, far less dark and brooding than I would normally expect from Nuits-Saint-Georges, even in a lighter, livelier vintage. It is indeed free of discernible signature. Medium garnet color, with a nose of cloves and brambly wild blackberries. Fine, gravelly tannins provide lovely texture that, along with excellent acid balance, shoot sparks of red and black fruit across the palate. Another excellent food wine. Lovely contrast between precocious fruit and accents of sweetness. If only I had a few more for the cellar. $50. 13% alcohol. Natural cork. Importer: Wine Cellars Ltd., Briarcliff Manor, NY (“acquired from a private cellar”).

Coteaux du Layon “Carte d’Or,” Domaine des Baumard 2004
While the prices of Baumard’s Savennières and Quarts de Chaume have crept up steadily over the last few years, his Coteaux du Layon wines have held relatively steady. Like those of Château Soucherie, one of which I wrote up in the last installment of Notes from a Sunday, they remain solid values. Its aromas include peach blossoms, mango and clover honey. Scintillating acidity delivers waves of intensely concentrated pear fruit across the palate. Very primary at first, only with substantial air did the expected minerality emerge, accompanied by an accent of miso. Paired admirably with strawberries macerated with fresh mint (as did the Puffeney, oddly enough). $20. 12% alcohol. Natural cork. Importer: Ex Cellars, Solvang, CA.

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