Showing posts with label Jean-Paul Brun. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jean-Paul Brun. Show all posts

Monday, January 18, 2010

Shut Up 'N Drink Yer Nouveau

Just when I thought I'd made it through an entire season without a drop of Beaujolais Nouveau passing my lips, last night I was forced – forced, I say! – to drink some. Know what? I'm glad.

Beaujolais Nouveau "Cuvée Première," Terres Dorées (Jean-Paul Brun) 2009
$12. 12% alcohol. Nomacorc. Importer: Louis/Dressner, New York, NY.

Showing nary a trace of the Banana Bubble Yum yeast (aka, 71B) that makes most Beaujolais Nouveau deplorably undrinkable, Jean-Paul Brun's example is just what an en primeur wine should be: a gluggable deliverer of simple pleasure. A snap of red delicious apple leads to pure, clean strawberry and just-barely-ripe red-cherry fruit. Chalky, fruity, crisp and thirst quenching... everything that Bo-jo-Noo-vo should be but all too rarely is.

Thursday, May 8, 2008

The Shot Heard Round the Beaujolais

I’m a little late to the game on this, as I’ve already read commentary about it at Rockss and Fruit, Burgundy Report and Manuel Camblor’s La Otra Botella (ok, I could only sort of read that one...). But I expect that there are at least a few readers here that might not regularly peruse those great sites. In any event, intrepid importer and occasional blogger Joe Dressner recently broke the news that Jean-Paul Brun’s entire 2007 production of Beaujolais “Cuvée L’Ancien” has been denied AOC status by France’s INAO tasting authorities. In other words, this wine, which has rightly been called “Beaujolais” for years, can’t be in the 2007 vintage.

This is not a new phenomenon. I’ve mentioned its occurrence before in the context of a piece on the wines of Domaine Ricard. It also seems to happen with alarming regularity to Thierry Puzelat in the Loire. Like those producers, I expect Brun will weather the storm based on the strong reputation and large following that he’s developed over the years.

The gripe expressed by the INAO in these cases is consistent: atypicity. In the context of Beaujolais, I could see a wine being dismissed if it were treated to lavish new oak, saturated and black in the glass, or pumped up to 15% alcohol. Brun’s wines are not. They’re natural, pure and mighty enjoyable expressions of real Beaujolais. I have yet to taste the 2007 but I can’t imagine it’s a total Mr. Hyde to the previous years’ releases.

Bill Nanson at Burgundy Report soberly points out that the explicit reasons for Brun’s demotion are unclear and that Dressner, as he is Brun’s main importer for the US market, may be biased. However, if Joe D. is right, it’s the commercial interests of the big shippers that dominate the Beaujolais market that are behind the INAO’s decision. For a region that already suffers from declining sales and widespread misunderstanding, that can only be bad business.

Again, I’m confident that Brun and other natural and quality conscious producers like him will weather the storm. But what will it mean for the future of Beaujolais?

Update: Apparently, the denial of AOC status applies only to a portion of Brun's 2007 “Cuvée L’Ancien,” even though all of the wine comes from the same production. Check out Dressner's blog for the details. (Image courtesy of JD.)

Monday, November 12, 2007

Morgon, Terres Dorées (Jean-Paul Brun) 2005

When’s the last time you picked up a bottle of wine that told you right on the front label that it should be decanted? Not exactly an everyday occurrence, I suspect. But that’s exactly what Jean-Paul Brun tells us to do with his 2005 Morgon. France is the last country from which I would expect to see that kind of direction, as French wineries tend to be about as hands-off as they come in terms of “label talk.” And for many people, I suspect that Beaujolais might be one of the last regions from which such instruction might seem likely, much less prudent. But Brun, in any number of ways, doesn’t seem afraid to be different. Not only does he flaunt his name on the front label of the bottle – it appears three times in various forms along with that note to decant – but he also provides quite a little narrative about his winemaking techniques on the rear étiquette.

Whatever you might think of this rather interventionist presentation of a wine made in a fastidiously non-interventionist manner, the quality of the wine speaks for itself. Brun adamantly refuses to use the cultured yeasts so prevalent in Beaujolais production, instead preferring to rely on the yeasts indigenous to his vineyards. The resulting wine reflects that choice, showing none of the tell-tale “Gamay Beaujolais” aromas that make many a Bojo jump out as dead obvious in blind tastings. Nonetheless, typicity still shines through. This is textbook Morgon, in the best possible sense.

When first opened and poured straight from the bottle, the wine is reticent, tight, firm and a bit narrow on the palate. Aromas emerge of cinnamon bark, cocoa and wild raspberries. After decanting, per J-P’s instructions, the wine expands to show sweeter raspberry fruit and a suggestion of framboise liqueur. Black raspberry and confectionery notes emerge as evolution continues in the glass and the decanter. There’s also persistent grip coming from very finely grained tannins, along with a refreshingly crunchy acid balance. After an hour of air, the wine continues to develop into caressing notes of french vanilla-laced black cherry ice cream. And finally, it’s all topped off with a sudden emergence of pipe tobacco and menthol aromas.

The alcohol level of record is 12%, seemingly in keeping with the Brun literature that makes much ado about his preference for lower alcohol Beaujolais which is only lightly, if at all, chaptalized. My palate tells me, however, that this bottle comes in closer to 13.5%. Legs galore, though not always meaningful, would seem to second that suggestion. The 1.5% flex in alcohol labeling requirements for French wine would certainly make this variance within the realm of possibility. If you’re lurking out there, Mr. Dressner, I’d love to hear your thoughts on this….

As beneficial as decanting turned out to be, it’s also worthwhile to heed Monsieur Brun’s advice to drink rapidly after opening (…consommer rapidement après débouchage). While development over the course of a couple of hours was compelling, the bit I saved until the next day – I just had to ignore the instructions for the sake of thorough reporting – did indeed fall apart. No worries, though. There’s no reason not to finish the bottle in one session.

$18. 12% alcohol. Natural cork closure. Importer: Louis/Dressner Selections.

Relevant reading:

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

Wine with Bill

Less often than I’d like, I find the opportunity to get together with friends to cook some good food. Recently, I did just that with one of my stalwart food and wine pals, Bill. Inspiration for this occasion was entirely seasonal: a ramp romp. Bill’s friends who live out in the Chester County countryside have a tremendous perennial crop of wild ramps growing right on their property. Having harvested far more than they could consume on their own, a generous “donation” was made to Bill’s larder, giving us the perfect opportunity to explore one of the most fleeting flavors of spring. Of course, it also gave us a great excuse to open a few interesting bottles of wine.

Of late, Bill’s been a much more accomplished wine shopper than I. Frequenting one of his perennial favorites, State Line Liquors, and one of his new troves, Chambers Street Wines, he’s been coming up with some pretty interesting stuff. A couple of the more esoteric bottles from Chambers Street seemed like the perfect place to get started….

Vin Mousseux Aromatique de Qualité Medium Dry “FRV 100,” Jean-Paul Brun NV
Brun produces some of the most natural, idiosyncratic wines of Beaujolais. A recent bottle of his 2005 Morgon is among the best wines I’ve tried this year. He apparently has a lighter side, captured in this oddball of a sparkler. Varietal Gamay vinified in the Méthode Ancestrale results in a pink, semi-sweet, low-alcohol, strawberry scented spritzer. Even odder than the wine was its label, black with reflective lettering reminiscent of circa 1970’s “One Day at a Time” bumper stickers and covered with whimsical, multi-lingual words all beginning with F, R or V – code for effervescent. The label would normally have been enough to scare me away but the contents, simple as they were, were hard not to enjoy. At a mere 7.5% ABV, it would make a perfect cold fried chicken picnic wine.

Beaujolais Blanc “Terres Dorées,” Jean-Paul Brun 2005
Not odd in the vein of the previous bubbly, it’s still fairly rare to find a Beaujolais Blanc on the American market. Brun’s varietal Chardonnay bears much more in common with the wines of Saint-Pourçain, neighbor to the west in the upper Loire district of the Auvergne, than with the Bourgogne Blancs of the Macon just to the north. Lemony, lean, minerally and relatively low-alcohol (12%), this would pair well, in lieu of other more obvious options, with a mixed shellfish platter. It was a bit too high in acid and lacking in fruit to pair well with our first course of braised turkey meatballs over gorgonzola dolce with sautéed ramps, where something equally lively but a bit juicier may have better served.

Muscadet Sevre-et-Maine Sur Lie “Le L d’Or” Domaine Pierre de la Grange, Pierre Luneau-Papin 1995
Though also a mismatch with the ramps and meatballs, this was the most enlightening wine of the night. Common wisdom would have it that Muscadet is wine only for quaffing in its youth. It’s beautiful to see, then, “vin de garde” examples like this that are still fresh and vibrant after ten or more years of ageing. Showing a pale golden-green glow in the glass, developed mineral flavors but still primary fruit and lively acidity, this could last another five or ten years with little problem. My interest in this bottling was further piqued by the fact that I sell Muscadet from Luneau-Papin’s daughter's property, Chateau Les Fromenteaux, where Pierre looks after all of the vineyards and viticultural practices. I’ll have to sock away a few bottles of the 2005 Fromenteaux “Clos du Poyet” for a rainy day with expectations that a knack for quality and structure runs in the family.

As we cleared the plates and started on the final touches for our main course of roast chicken with olives and sautéed ramps, it seemed as good a time as any to narrow down our red options. Bill was chomping at the bit for some good Burgundy. And so it was….

Chambolle-Musigny Premier Cru “Les Sentiers,” Domaine Truchot-Martin (Jacky Truchot) 2003
I first came across Jacky Truchot’s fantastically expressive red Burgundies in the late ‘90s. I remember being shocked at how pale his wines appeared in bottle, almost rosé-like to the uninitiated eye. I’ve managed to stay in touch with the estate through occasional tastings and chance encounters. His 2003s, like most Burgundies, are atypically dark and rich. Yet the finesse stemming from Jacky’s old-school approach in the winery and natural touch in the vineyards still resulted in wines of real class. The 2003 “Les Sentiers” is drinking beautifully, with silky red fruit, delicate, supple tannins, floral aromatics and Truchot’s trademark sprightly acidity. It’s a pity that the estate is no more. Jacky retired after the 2005 vintage with no heirs to carry on his legacy.

Up to this point, we had yet to touch any of the bottles I’d brought along for the evening. With a bit of effort, I finally convinced Bill to save his ’95 Baudry Chinon for another day. Instead, we pulled the cork on a bottle that I’d almost forgotten in my cellar.

Langhe Nebbiolo, Cascina Vano 2001
Modernist, traditionalist and centrist quibbles aside, Langhe Nebbiolo tend to fall into two camps: those that are produced from the younger vines and declassified fruit in Barolo or Barbaresco vineyards and those that are grown outside of the delimited zones for the big B’s. The former examples tend to be early drinking, gentle and aromatic expressions of Nebbiolo, giving glimpses of the lovely fruit and aroma of Piedmont’s great vine without the intensity of tannin it often delivers. Vano’s wine falls into the latter camp – wines built, because they stand alone, like “baby Barbarescos.” They can carry power and structure combined with fruit and aroma and can provide a wallet-friendly glimpse into the full realm of the Nebbiolo tasting spectrum. They just happen to come from the wrong side of the street.

I knew there must have been a reason that I socked away some of Bruno Rivetti's 2001 Langhe Nebbiolo. There was. Six years on, it was still rock solid. Expansive fruit, merging primary tones with the early beginnings of tertiary characteristics, combined with firm structure and lovely balance to make this wine almost as eye-opening a surprise as the Muscadet had been. Additionally, as much as I liked the Truchot Chambolle, the Nebbiolo matched more adeptly with the zesty flavors of Bill’s chicken and ramps.

By typical standards, we’d properly sated our appetites. However, there were molten chocolate cakes in the pipeline so, since Bill had returned from an earlier trip to the cellar with some “leftovers” from a few days back, we thought we’d finish off with one last taste.

Maury “Cuvée Spéciale 10 Ans d’Age,” Mas Amiel NV
A close relative to the sweet reds of Banyuls and Collioure, Maury paired with chocolate cake is kind of a no-brainer. This ten-year old from Mas Amiel is a great value wine, built in a lot of ways like a 10 year Tawny Port but with slightly lower alcohol and darker, more persistent fruit. In the classic method for sweet red Roussillon wines, the 10 Ans d’Age spends the first year of its life, following fermentation and fortification, in glass demi-johns which are left outside of the winery, exposed to the full forces of sunlight and temperature variation. A further nine years in huge old casks provide a slow, somehow preserving oxidative environment in which the wine develops its final characteristics. Rich yet mellow toffee, raisin, black cherry and raspberry tones ally with low acidity and firm tannic structure to give balance to a measurable level of residual sweetness.

Why shouldn’t all Tuesday nights be so rewarding?
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