Ma Fête, À la Maison

It's my party and I want to drink bubbly...*

Something of an occasion today, smack up against the Thanksgiving holiday, prompted a relatively impromptu and, as it turned out, quite civilized lunch.  The festivity, the time of day and, most importantly, my craving all called for something sparkling.  It turned out to be a great choice.

Crémant du Jura, Domaine Jean Bourdy N.V.
$21.  12% alcohol.  Cork.  Importer: Potomac Selections, Landover, MD.
This was my first time drinking Jean Bourdy's Crémant du Jura. It won't be the last.  Produced in the méthode traditionelle, it's a non-vintage cuvée based purely on Chardonnay.  A lovely nose of lightly toasted hazelnuts, brioche, pear and marzipan led do a palate much racier and brighter than aromatically suggested, all of which was finished off with a vaguely Chenin-like note of honey and beeswax.  Coursing through it all was a core of almost sweet minerality, with a tang to it that made me think there might be a little Savagnin at play.  The wine blossomed with food, yielding some of the generosity to which its aromas had alluded.  What became crystal clear as we drank the bottle with lunch is that we were enjoying an excellent Jura wine, one that spoke clearly of its place, that just happened to be sparkling — not a sparkling wine for sparkling wine's sake.

The soupe a l'oignon served at À la Maison, the bistro we'd chosen for our mid-day repast, proved a natural match with Bourdy's Crémant du Jura.  Though Gruyère, the cheese traditionally used for French onion soup, may technically be of Swiss origin, it is of very much the same style and proximal place as Comté, arguably "the" classic match with the white wines of the Jura region.  You won't find me arguing.... The sweet nuttiness of the cheese, the deeply caramelized onions and rich broth all brought out the earthy, round aspects of the Crémant.  Truly a lovely match.

The poulet vol au vent at À la Maison, even though the dish was arguably a bit under-seasoned, also worked wonders with the wine.  Between the light cream sauce, buttery accents courtesy of puff pastry, earthy mushrooms, the delicate protein of white meat chicken, and fresh herbaceousness via tomatoes and asparagus, we were again in a sweet spot when it came to the meshing of wine and food.  I'd like to try the dish again, at a time when tomatoes and asparagus are actually in season (and when the person in the kitchen has a freer hand with the salt and pepper ), but even now it was a lovely foil to the wine, not to mention quite a comforting meal on a chilly November afternoon.

À la Maison
53 West Lancaster Avenue
Ardmore, PA 19003
484-412-8009

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* To be sung to the tune of:

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TDF 2010 Stage 8: Station des Rousses to Morzine-Avoriaz

So it turned out the Tour organizers were having a little fun at my expense. I got a call early Sunday morning from the chief commissaire telling me my services as lead car driver wouldn’t be necessary. Rather, they’d decided my presence at the arrive was of the utmost importance, therefore suggesting that I head straight to the city, without delay, to prepare for the finish line festivities.

Just as I was putting the wetlands of North Jersey behind me and about to take the plunge into the darkness that precedes the reemergence into Manhattan, the second call came. This time the commissaire had deputized the job. "Monsieur McDuff, of course the race this year is not really coming to New York. We sincerely hope, though, that you'll still continue with your planned celebrations. Bon courage!"

Damn straight I wasn't turning back. There was a ride through the Jura, where Saturday's stage took place and Sunday's started, to commemorate. So, even with the lure of an appearance by the peloton off the docket, I headed to 67 Wine, where natural wine buyer Ben Wood had invited me to show off a few goodies symbolic of the weekend's stages.

For openers, we poured "L'Uva Arbosiana" from Pascal and Evelyne Clairet's Domaine de la Tournelle, brought into the US by Jenny & François. The non-vintage "L'Uva Arbosiana" (this batch is entirely from 2008 fruit) is a completely unsulfured cuvée of Ploussard that undergoes a 30-day-long carbonic maceration. A real eye-opener for the crowd in attendance, light and bright in color, crisp, firm and snappy in texture, ever fresh and just a tad smoky on the palate. Kind of like the first stiff climb after many days of riding the flat lands. Something bracing to open up the legs, lungs and mind.

A little downhill relief — cool breeze and easy rolling — came next, via a taste of the 2007 Arbois Chardonnay from Gérard Villet, part of the Savio Soares portfolio. Its telltale sponti, wild yeast aromas were followed up by fresh, crunch fruit and a cascade of minerality not unlike what you might expect to emerge from the springs flowing beneath Les Monts Jura, through which Sunday's stage traversed.

The 2004 L'Étoile Savagnin from Domaine de Montbourgeau (Rosenthal) rounded things out, a real sting in the tail, the final hors catégorie climb that no one quite knew was coming. All afternoon, it had people raising eyebrows and scratching their heads, trying to put a finger on what it reminded them of and, even more so, trying to decide just how they felt about it. Definitely polarizing juice, with its Manzanilla-like nose, piercing acidity, and stony, spicy, pungent palate attack.

Three delicious wines in honor of the first attack on the high mountains in this year's Tour.

Given that the day's events kept me from posting according to previously planned schedule, I'm going to break form and give a shout out to Sunday's winner. At this point, I'm guessing everyone that's following the race has seen it, read it or heard it. If I'm wrong, though, and you're the one that still doesn't know, then quick, close your eyes.

Andy Schleck, crossing the line victorious on the mountaintop finish into Morzine-Avoriaz, his first ever stage win in the Tour de France.
(Photo courtesty of Fotoreporter Sirotti.)

While the field sprints of the flat stages may provide adrenalin-pumping excitement and there's certainly been no shortage of drama in the first week of this year's Tour, it's always the mountains, at least for this fan of La Grande Boucle, that bring the fireworks. And we're just getting started....

Up next: A rest day recap perhaps, then it's into the high Alps of the Haute-Savoie we go.

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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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TDF 2010 Stage 8 Preview: Philadelphia to New York

Breaking News: There's been talk over the last few years of eventually having the Tour de France take its Grand Départ on American shores. As fun as it sounds, prevailing thought has dictated that the Trans-Atlantic junket would put too much wear and tear on the already highly stressed physical condition of the pro peloton. Throwing such cares aside, the organizers of Le Tour have decided to make a last-minute, unannounced (until now!) detour to the Mid-Atlantic States, bringing half the peloton across the pond for a flat, fast stage from Philadelphia to New York on Sunday, July 11, while the other half of the field will toil through the first day in the high alpine regions of Jura and Savoie.

In recognition of my undying efforts (to do what, I'm not sure), the Tour organizers have invited me to drive the lead vehicle for the day.... The real surprise, though, is that once through the Lincoln Tunnel the advance caravan, lead official cars and support motos will pull off and the racers will be on their own. No set course, no marshals or gendarmes pointing the way. First man to the corner of 68th and Columbus Avenue wins.

I'll have ridden off the front by that point, so that I can get a tasting set up at the finish line before the riders arrive. You're invited, too. Here's the scoop:


In honor of the route traveled for the French version of the day's stage, I'll be pouring wines from the Jura at a shop called 67 Wine, which just happens to be located at the corner of 68th (don't ask me why it's not called 68 Wine) and Columbus Avenue. The tasting runs from 2:00 PM to 4:00 PM (not from 3:00 to 7:00) on Sunday, July 11, 2010. You'll find the full details at the 67 Wine website.

Come on out and join me for some fine Chardonnay, Ploussard and Savagnin from the Jura and Arbois. World Cup finals be damned! You can DVR the game and Le Tour, but not me and the wines.

67 Wine
179 Columbus Avenue
New York, NY 10023
(212) 724-6767

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On The (Yellow) Star

On a recent evening, shared with a few good friends over a few good bottles and some food, of course, one wine in particular raised not only my eyebrows but also an excellent question. "What is L'Étoile?" We were drinking a bottle of L'Étoile Savagnin from Domaine de Montbourgeau at the time, and it was my friend Bill who asked the question(s). He wasn't asking what it means — "L'Étoile" is French for "the star" — but rather, "Is that the AOC? Is it a place?" I answered in the affirmative to part one but realized that I couldn't quite explain, off the top of my head, the origins of or reasoning behind its name.


A quick Google Maps search points to a town in France called L'Étoile that's located about 150 kilometers due north of Paris, very much not in the Jura, which is the region where AOC L'Étoile is located. As it turns out, though, there's another small town called L'Étoile in the heart of the Jura. While the AOC takes its name from this commune, "L'Étoile" also refers to two of the area's distinct regional characteristics: a series of five hills surrounding the village that, with the help of a little imagination, form the five arms of a star, and from the fossilized remains of invertebrate starfish ("crinoïdes" or "pentacrines") that are common to the soil in the vineyards of L'Étoile, situated on what were seabeds many millennia ago.

The AOC boundaries encompass roughly 75-80 hectares, about 50 hectares of which are under vine. Split that between 30 farmers and 26 different wineries (21 estates, 2 co-ops and 3 négociants) and you'll start to get a sense of at least one of the reasons that so little wine from L'Étoile reaches the US market. The AOC allows for the production of white wines only, primarily from Chardonnay and Savagnin, which respectively account for 90% and 10% of overall plantations, though small amounts of Ploussard (vinified as white wine) are also tolerated.

Now that we've done at least some justice to the questions, let's move on to the wine that raised them... and raised my eyebrows....

L'Étoile Savagnin, Domaine de Montbourgeau (Nicole Dériaux) 2002
$37. 13% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Rosenthal Wine Merchant, New York, NY.

There's surprisingly little information available about this cuvée of Savagnin from Domaine de Montbourgeau, not even a mention on the producer's own website. Though Nicole Dériaux apparently carries on the oxidative winemaking practices used by her father, Jean Gros, and traditional to the Jura, this is not obviously oxidative wine. Its color is a waxy yellow in the glass and it does eventually reveal background flavors of hazelnuts and walnuts, but those are typical characteristics of Savagnin and strike me, in this case, as more primary than oxidation-induced flavor elements.

In any event, I'm splitting hairs. The wine is deliciously captivating. One eyebrow arched when I put nose to glass, finding subtle yet piercing aromas of turmeric and coriander, coupled with powerful minerality. The other eyebrow went up at the first sip, where those same curry spices blossomed in the wine's mouth aromas, magnified and amplified by very energetic, muscular mouthfeel and nervy acidity. Both eyebrows stayed up when the wine conjured an unmistakable aroma and flavor memory: Singapore Chow Mei Fun. I kid you not, the association was fixed, stamped indelibly in my mind.

I'm not sure whether Bill planned it or whether the stars (no pun intended) had simply aligned, but the wine proved a compelling match to just about all of the food he'd lined up for the evening. A great contrast to the salty, fatty savor of thinly sliced Jambon de Bayonne, which brought out the spice and minerality in the wine. It worked equally well with a hunk of Morbier, which just happens to come from nearby Franche-Comté and to be an only slightly less classic match than Comté itself. Here it was the pleasantly funky nuttiness of the cheese playing with the similarly wild, outdoorsy characteristics of the wine. And damn if it didn't prove a fine match with roast chicken, too.


Aside from mentions of "Singapore Chow Mei Fun" and "yellow," my notes are dominated by one other key phrase. "Buy." Priced in the high $30s, this is by no means inexpensive but it's money well spent for a wine that should develop extremely well in the cellar and that already delivers compelling pleasure. In one of those odd synchronicities in the wine blogging world, my cohort DoBi just wrote up Montbourgeau's regular bottling of L'Étoile, paired it with Chex Mix in homage to Dr. Vino's impossible food and wine pairings, and even took a picture that's very similar to my own. As Jeremy says, "Not everyone will like this wine." But that's okay, I do, so there'll be more for me.

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Tissot's Crémant du Jura "Indigène"

Following on the heels of yesterday's vin de soif, today's post is about a wine served as a proper aperitif at a recent food, wine and relaxation oriented get together. It proved a very fine accompaniment to a quite tasty if rather peculiar cheese, flavored by smoked chestnuts walnuts, that my friends had brought back from a recent trip to Sonoma; let's just say the cheese was very, well, chestnutty walnutty. I can't seem to recall or find the name and/or provenance of said cheese so, if anyone out there knows it, please do hit the comments with any pertinent info.


Crémant du jura Brut "Indigène," André et Mireille Tissot (Stéphane Tissot) NV
$22. 12.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: A Thomas Calder Selection, Potomac Selections, Landover, MD.
Stéphane Tissot produces two different Crémants du Jura: one made in the conventional méthode traditionelle and a second cuvée called "Indigène." The truly bloggerly approach to this tasting would have been to pour the two cuvées side-by-side in order to compare and contrast the differences. That will have to wait for another day, I suppose, for funds not being limitless on the shopping excursion during which I procured this bottle — not that funds are ever anywhere close to unlimited! — I headed straight for the more geeked-out "Indigène."

What's the difference? As with most sparkling wines made in the Champagne method, Tissot's regular Brut cuvée achieves its effervescence through the addition of measured quantities of selected yeast and sugar to an already finished still wine. Seal the bottle and nature takes its course, sparking a second fermentation. With "Indigène," Tissot utilizes yeast that has been cultivated from the leftovers from the production of his own vin de paille (or "straw wine," made from grapes dried on straw mats). Given that the vin de paille is fermented, like all of Tissot's wines (other than round two for the normal Brut), on its native yeasts, "Indigène" is wholly fermented on yeasts that are indigenous both to Tissot's vines and to his own production methods. Very self-sufficient, no?

The end results yield a very pretty wine, one that could easily slip into the ringer position in a blind Champagne tasting. Leading off with a forward, pillowy nose of pastry, whipped cream and lavender, the wine reveals a very sweet-fruited profile on the palate, full of baked apple and peach skin nuance, fresh hazelnuts and brioche. The wine's richness made me wonder about dosage levels. A little research, however, revealed that the wine is in fact produced with zero dosage (and zero added sulfur dioxide) but is finished with a small amount of unresolved residual sugar. So we're simply talking about good, ripe raw materials.

Cautionary word of mouth suggests that the regular cuvée is not quite so compelling but, as suggested above, we'll have to wait for another occasion to put that theory/opinion to the test.

PS: For readers in the greater Los Angeles area, Lou Amdur was pouring "Indigène" at his eponymous wine bar and restaurant, Lou on Vine, last week. You might want to give Lou a shout before hightailing it over there, just to make sure there's some left.

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Out of the Alps, Contre le Montre

It’s been an exciting trip through the Alps. The first half of the final week of the 2009 Tour de France has seen the riders cross borders, scale peaks and stake their claims. It’s seen them suffer. It’s seen many riders implode, with pre-race contenders such as Carlos Sastre (last year’s champ) and Cadel Evans dropping by the wayside, perhaps weighed down both mentally and physically by the huge time deficits they incurred way back in the Stage 4 team time trial. It’s seen others live up to or far exceed expectations. If anyone had told me before the Tour started that Bradley Wiggins would still be in the top six after the Alps, I’d have called them crazy. The Schleck brothers have ridden stupendously, too, especially Frank. The image of them crossing the line in yesterday’s stage, finishing first and third, both with arms raised high, will be one of the classic memories from this year’s Tour, no matter where they figure in the final outcome.

Image courtesy of Roberto Bettini.
Of course, the biggest drama of the week was the ongoing question as to who would finally prove themselves strongest, the team leader of Astana: Armstrong or Contador. It’s played out just as I’d expected, and the team has played up the drama with serious panache and fine tactical sense. There’s little doubt now, barring misfortune, that Alberto Contador will finish the Tour on the top step of the podium. Even with today’s time trial and Saturday’s finish atop Mont Ventoux on the horizon, I think he’s got it locked.

Armstrong himself has been incredibly impressive, coming right back to the top of the sport after three years of retirement. I wasn’t sure he had it in him – not the performance but rather the teamsmanship. He may be struggling a tad more in the high mountains than he did in years past but only a tad. What he’s really been doing is riding in strong support of Contador’s position, watching Alberto go up the road, discouraging other riders from chasing him down by setting a tough tempo, and then managing to drop them to defend his own position in the general classification. The Schlecks may have bumped him down to 4th place after yesterday’s stage. But with today’s time trial and Saturday’s finish atop Mont Ventoux (sound familiar?), don’t count him out of the top three come Sunday’s ride into Paris. I wouldn’t be surprised to see him scratch his way back past one if not both of the Luxembourgian brothers.


Today’s post, though, is dedicated to Jens Voigt. The video above may focus upon Armstrong’s Stage 16 exploits but I like it most because it shows Jens, always the immaculate professional, riding way above his comfort zone in support of his teammates. That’s him about half way through the video, the big guy in the white and black kit of Team Saxobank, leading the group from which Armstrong had been dropped. These are the high Alps, mind you, not the rolling hills where Voigt usually launches his breakaway escapades. Regrettably, Jens crashed out of the Tour later in the same stage, wiping out horrifically during a high speed descent. Luckily, he came through it okay. His crash has been the scariest of the Tour thus far – let’s hope it stays that way. And while his crash is likely to be the image that will be remembered, I prefer to think of him leading the charge up the hill, sacrificing himself for the good of his team.

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It may seem anti-climactic to bring wine into the picture at this point. But I did half-promise, half-threaten to follow the wine trail along the route of this year’s Tour, so here goes. The last few days, as I mentioned above, have seen the riders crossing not just the Alps but also borders, from France into Switzerland into Italy and back again to France. I had no wine in my cellar from the Swiss Valais or from France’s Haute-Savoie, and I didn’t manage to open anything from Italy’s Valle d’Aosta. So I opted for something from right in the midst of it all – the Jura.


Arbois Pupillin Chardonnay, Emmanuel Houillon 2006
$25. 12.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Louis/Dressner, New York, NY.

When last I drank Houillon’s 2006 Chardonnay, my notes brought its importer Joe Dressner out of the wings. The wine was extremely reductive; not so, this time.

This was definitely a great bottle – subtly funky on the nose and electrically alive in the mouth, with no signs of reduction. What is it about the aromas of so many Jura wines that makes me think of the beach? These are mountain wines after all, not coastal produce. But Houillon’s Chardonnay showed a pungent nose of sandy minerality tied to scents of lemon meringue pie crust that, yep, brought to mind the seashore. It’s full of lees-y high notes in the mouth, in that respect consistent with the last bottle, which made me think of sake. This time around, it was the respective citric and wild yeastiness of witbier and geuze that came to mind. A joy to drink and a great food wine, too. Its combo of mouthwatering acidity, minerality and lemony fruit paired amazingly well with a simple summer dinner of grilled chicken and feta sausages, arugula dressed with good olive oil, and my wife’s latest rendition of potato salad, made with green olives and preserved lemons. I’m quite sure this was the wine Joe D. had in mind.

The "Contre le Montre" part of today's posting title? That's the rather more poetic French for time trial. And a reference to my goal to actually write this and get it posted before today's Stage 18 race against the clock comes to an end. Mission accomplished, I think.

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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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