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.

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Chauvet, Néauport and the Question of Terroir

Jules Chauvet

"Does method trump terroir?"

That was our gracious host's question, her introduction to the formal segment of the evening for our gathered gang of eight.  In the moment, no one seemed inclined to answer.

We'd all been invited to taste a group of wines that had been produced according to the methods described by Jules Chauvet, widely considered as the progenitor of the natural wine making movement in France.  Or was it really the Jacques Néauport method?  That question was left hanging, but no matter....  Without any absolute control or doctrine, there was still a reasonably clear focus: we'd be tasting wines fermented using carbonic or semi-carbonic maceration and made without the use of added sulfur dioxide (other than in the vineyard and, in some cases, in small doses at bottling time).

Seventeen wines later, our rather tight-lipped, largely poker-faced gathering didn't seem any more inclined to voicing a conclusion to our convening question, either en masse or individually, than at the outset. But never fear, dear reader, for I am here to give you an unequivocally clear answer.

Yes and no.

Actually, the only unequivocal answer is that there is no clear answer.

Does method trump terroir?  When it comes to the Chauvet/Néauport method in particular, yes, in at least one sense.  Nearly all of the wines we tasted showed the aromatic stamp, to varying degrees, of carbonic maceration.  No, in at least one arguably more important sense.  The best wines, even just the good wines, we tasted showed not only their varying levels of carbonic nature but also a definite sense of both varietal character and place, that is to say a taste of the vine and of the soil.  It would appear that, all else being sound, method and terroir can indeed be happy bunk mates.

All seventeen wines, by the way, were tasted in a single-blind format.  Specifically, we were provided with a list of the wines but all bottles were brown-bagged and poured in randomized order. The wines were revealed only after all had been tasted.  In addition to the big picture assessment made above, here are some other observations I'd like to (or at least am willing to) share:

• It's a bit of a no-brainer but it still bears saying: while method doesn't necessarily trump terroir, an unacceptable level(s) of faultiness does.  By my reckoning, two of the wines in the lineup (not counting one that was eliminated because of cork taint) were flawed to the point of eradicating any clear sense of variety or terroir.


• The Chauvet/Néauport approach is generally considered to be best suited to Gamay, particularly to Gamay grown on granitic soils.  It also appears to meld quite nicely with Ploussard in the Jura and, based on our lineup, to hold promise for Grenache based wines from the Mediterranean regions of France.


• One of my favorite wines of the night turned out to be a varietal expression of Cinsault from the Languedoc, the Vin de Table "Pitchounet" from Domaine Mouressipe.  It leaned toward the method end of the aromatic spectrum but it's a wine I'd happily return to for sheer enjoyment.


• Our host for the evening associates a certain baking spice with the aromatic signature of Chauvet-esque carbonic maceration.  The aroma that struck me, though, in wine after wine, across regions and varieties/blends, was of pickling spices, dill in particular.  Perhaps a better wine scientist than I could explain that; I can only say that I noticed it — and took note of it — in many of the wines.


• The wine that showed the least facet of carbonic character was a Bordeaux, a 1998 Saint Emilion from Château Meylet.  I did get some of that dill/pickling spice on the nose, but that's not atypical of Merlot grown in SW France.  This begs a couple of questions.  Most obviously, do the darker, bolder character of Bordeaux varieties assert themselves over the character derived from (semi)carbonic maceration?  Secondly, and more subtly, what happens to carbonic character with age?  Does it perhaps fade?  The next oldest wine in the lineup was eight years younger and it was shot, one of the two overly faulty wines mentioned above.


• I've written here before about my general dislike of blind tasting.  Tasting wine without a sense of what it is or where it comes from, not to mention without a sense of enjoyment, strips the soul away from what wine truly is about.  That said, as a technical exercise, there's plenty to be learned from blind tasting.  First and foremost: humility.  Out of seventeen wines, I completely nailed the identity of only two — and I'd hazard an educated guess that they're the same two that every person in the room also ID'd: the aforementioned Bordeaux and Marcel Lapierre's 2010 Beaujolais Nouveau.  I hit correctly on the terroir/regional origins in about half of the cases and I was wildly off in more than one instance.  Always a good reality check.


• Going back to the issue of  "control" (in the statistical sense) that I referred to in opening, it was quite rightly mentioned by many in attendance that, while all of the wines we had tasted were made with some degree or another of carbonic maceration, there were also any number of variables in play.  Variety and region aside, carbonic vs. semi-carbonic maceration, the duration of skin and stem contact, pressing or the lack thereof, barrel aging (or not), yields — and other things I'm probably forgetting — were all discussed as likely variables in the mix.


• Just as good a question as that we began with is this: Does over-ripeness obscure terroir?  One of the wines I missed on most egregiously was the 2009 Fleurie from Yvon Métras (the regular cuvée, not "L'Ultime").  I pegged its big, ripe, kirsch-like flavors as a Rhône or Languedoc wine.  So much for my Gamay sense....  There was much discussion later in the evening about the freak show of a vintage that was 2009 in the Beaujolais.  While I'm hardly about to jump on the vintage hating bandwagon — I've had plenty of gorgeous 2009 Beaujolais — I will say that the Métras was startlingly rich and bold, at the expense of sense of place.

I think that's enough for one post.  I've intentionally chosen not to bore you with an exacting list of all seventeen wines (though I'd be willing to oblige if anyone feels it necessary).  And I've intentionally opted not to name the other seven members of the gang.  Suffice it to say that it was an honor and pleasure to taste, eat and drink with — and be humbled by — all of them.

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Marcel Lapierre, RIP

Sad news is making its way around the vinosphere today. The great Beaujolais producer Marcel Lapierre died last night after a long struggle with illness. I'm afraid I have no more detail than that to share as of yet.

Marcel Lapierre pouring his 2006 rosé at the Caves-Augé Beaujolais tasting, March 24, 2007.
(Photo courtesy of Bertrand Celce, Wine Terroirs.)

I never had the pleasure of meeting Monsieur Lapierre, only of drinking his wines. Here's hoping that he passed sans souffrir and that he will rest in peace. I've little doubt that many a bottle of his Morgon — including an '09, chez moi — will be drunk tonight as gestures of homage.


For those in the New York area, there will be a gathering to pay respects and share remembrances at The Ten Bells, tomorrow night, October 12, at around 7:00 PM.

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Going Sans Soufre in Monterey

Please pardon the dead air of the last few days. I've been in California since Wednesday, here to celebrate (and help with as much as possible) the pending nuptials of my great friends Steve and Stacy. They welcomed our arrival on Wednesday night with a simple meal Chez S&S, which we all enjoyed along with a fantastic bottle of Marcel Lapierre's 2008 Morgon.

While the bottle above may look no different than usual (Meyer lemons aside) to the American-based imbibers of Lapierre's wines, let me tell you that this wine was different from what you're likely to have enjoyed before. The secret's all on the back label....

You may remember me mentioning here before that Lapierre actually produces three different "batches" of his Morgon: one with no sulfur and no filtration; one with no filtration but with a light dose of sulfur; and one with both light filtration and a little sulfur. Importer Kermit Lynch had never brought the unsulfured version into the States, as he prefers the more stable nature of that with a light sulfur dose for the rigors of national distribution.

Notice that I wrote "had" rather than "has," as Kermit has now brought a small lot of the unsulfured version -- "Lot n," as you can see in the photo at right -- specifically at request of the crew at San Francisco's natural wine bar extraordinaire, Terroir. Though I've had several bottles recently of Lappierre's regular 2007 Morgon, I've yet to drink the regularly sulfured version of his 2008 release, so this is a bit of a McIntosh to Gala comparison. Taking the liberty of tasting across vintages, though, I found the unsulfured version to be a little darker-fruited and earthier in aroma, crunchier in texture and ever so slightly more rustic than the regular cuvée. It was also really delicious. Which begs the question: when, where and how will I get to drink it again???

Thanks for the treat, guys! Lookin' forward to all the great things to come.

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Marcel Lapierre Vin de Pays des Gaules

Given the comic nature of the artwork by Siné coupled with the good-spirited script on the label at right, one could be forgiven for thinking that Marcel Lapierre was indulging in a bit of Gallic wordplay with the release of his "country wine of the Gaules." That was my initial reaction upon first seeing Lapierre's new wine hit the US market earlier this year.

In actuality, though, Vin de Pays des Gaules is indeed a relatively new (about three years-old now), official (yet not widely approved of) addition to the INAO's short-list of large, regional VdP designations. The area covers Beaujolais in its entirety, plus, if I'm interpreting the map correctly, fringe portions of the Mâconnais and the Northern Rhône. Like most other VdP designations, it's much more forgiving/inclusive of grape varieties than the AOC system. Vin de Pays des Gaules allows for as many as 19 varieties, Syrah and Viognier among them, along with the more obvious Chardonnay and, of course, Gamay, which alone constitutes upward of 95% of the plantings in question.

The primary objectives of the new Vin de Pays des Gaules designation, as with the similar and simultaneous creation of Vin de Pays de l'Atlantique for the greater Bordeaux region, are two-fold: to reduce the overall quantity (theoretically thereby raising the overall quality) of AOC wines being produced in the region and to create a category of simpler, easier to drink, less expensive wines. In two regions where the market is already awash in inexpensive, innocuous and often sub-par quality wines, though, I'm not sure the creation of these new VdPs does anything more than further muddy the already murky waters for those faced with marketing largely unwanted wines to an ever-increasingly competitive world market.

In the case of Lapierre's wine, though, I'm not going to argue with the results.

Vin de Pays des Gaules, Marcel Lapierre 2008
$15. 12.5% alcohol. Stelvin. Importer: Kermit Lynch, Berkeley, CA.
I've already seen retailers succumb to the temptation of referring to Lapierre's Vin de Pays des Gaules, which is varietal Gamay by the way, as "Morgon Junior." Who could blame them, I suppose. But in practice, Lapierre has actually captured the spirit of simplicity that's idealistically intended by the new VdP. While I've never had any problem drinking (as opposed to "tasting") Lapierre's Morgon, this is even more eminently easy-drinking wine. Vin de Pays de Gulpable, if you will. Crisp, light and snappy, it lacks the depth of the Morgon but is still full of flavor, with early season raspberry fruit laced with bright, refreshing citrus zest and herbal nuances.

It's unmistakably the product of carbonic maceration and fermentation, yet, as with all of Lapierre's wines, the grapes are fermented on their native yeasts, so there's no trace of the telltale banana aromas so oft associated with carbonic wines. It's hard to imagine a more uncomplicated pour that's still wine-y rather than grape-y. Great served with a stiff chill, this would make for a great summertime BBQ and/or porch wine. For now, it goes down just as easy with a good old Monday night pizza.

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Morgon, Morgon, Morgon

When friends called to say I should stop by on Friday night because they'd opened a couple of interesting bottles of Morgon, I figured the least I could do was add a third to the mix. After a wee glass of the Crémant de Loire "Brut Sauvage" NV from Château des Vaults (Domaine du Closel) to whet the whistle, we started off with my contribution to the trio.

Morgon (Lot S), Marcel Lapierre 2007
$22. 12.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Kermit Lynch, Berkeley, CA.
Marcel Lapierre makes three lots of his regular Morgon each year, in roughly equal thirds: one that sees no filtration or addition of sulfur, one that is unfiltered but does get a petite dose of sulfur, and a third that is both lightly filtered and sulfured. Lapierre's US importer, Kermit Lynch, will not bring completely unsulfured wines into the States, so "Lot S," if I'm not mistaken, is the unfiltered, lightly sulfured bottling. The lot designation appears on the wine's back label, along with a date (02/05/08 or 2 May 2008, in this case) that I assume signifies the bottling date, a bit of information I'd love to see on all wine labels.



I wasn't in the mood to take photos, so I'm glad Brooklynguy had already taken care of it for this one; I've borrowed his picture of the 2006 version (thanks, Neil). I really like Lapierre's presentation; I'm not sure there's a better example out there of elegant simplicity in labeling.
Firm and tensile but delicate, very pure, direct and focused, this is pretty, pretty wine. Lithe, with an unmistakably natural aromatic and flavor profile. The nose is creamy and fresh, giving up vanilla-laced small red berry fruit. One of my partners in crime had complained of encountering bottles earlier in the year that were showing green and olive-y (and I see that B-guy has found some volatile acidity issues). No such problems here, as this bottle was just lovely. Served with a slight chill, I could drink it all day.

Morgon Côte du Py "Cuvée Spéciale Fût de Chêne," Domaine Savoye (Descombes-Savoye) 2005
$18. 12.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Fruit of the Vines, Long Island City, NY.
The "Cuvée Spéciale Fût de Chêne" is Pierre Savoye's vin de garde, bottled after spending 6-8 months in oak foudres and capable of aging, in the producer's own words, from 8-10 years. Opened the day before, this was a little worse for wear but was nonetheless still showing remnants of its breed. Completely pinotisé, dark-fruited and subtly spicy, even a bit prune-y, with brooding, slightly briary tannins. I think this could indeed develop for a few more years in the bottle. But once opened, drink up.

Morgon "Vieilles Vignes," Daniel Bouland 2008
$22. 13% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Weygandt-Metzler, Unionville, PA.
In spite of having been open for a day, Bouland's Morgon, which hails from 60-90 year-old vines in the climats of Corcelette, Douby and Delys, was showing by far the most primary of our three wines. Still painfully young, which isn't surprising given the wine's youth, though I found it to be showing well relative to many other '08s I've tasted of late that are tight, lean, chalky and/or unexpressive at this point in their evolutions. Very good fruit expression, with lots of ripe red cherry and cola nuance, bolstered by a zippy, juicy mouthfeel.

* * *

And for your listening pleasure today, the Joe Zawinul classic (the correct title is Mercy x 3) as performed by the Buddy Rich Big Band in Berlin, 1970.

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