More on the Road of Le Tour

As predicted, I’ve not managed to drink along with the route of this year’s Tour de France. Nope, I’ve not managed to post daily notes or wine-related stories that relate to the locale of each stage. Fact is I’ve had a hard time keeping up with the race itself. I managed to completely miss what’s arguably been the most exciting stage of the race thus far – the finish atop Arcalis in Andorra. Somehow, so did my DVR; so I’ve seen only the brief highlight reels of Alberto Contador dropping the other overall contenders during Stage Seven’s mountaintop finale. I haven’t even watched yesterday’s stage yet, much less today’s (which should still be in progress as I write). So don’t spoil it for me by spouting out the results. I’ve got some catching up to do.

In that spirit, here are a few highlights and observations from week one of Le Tour. I’d hoped to share them earlier but hey, what can I say?

En route from Marseille to La Grande-Motte, Stage 3 took the peloton straight through the heart of the Camargue and the network of lakes of the Bouches du Rhône, south of Arles and Aix-en-Provence. I recognized the countryside right away but was pleasantly surprised when I recognized some of the actual roads the race was traversing, as the pack climbed the Category 4 Côte de Calissanne. It’s a pretty little bluff in the immediate environs of Château Calissanne, an estate in the sprawling Coteaux d’Aix en Provence AOC that my wife and I visited on our honeymoon back in 2000. I profiled Château Calissanne last year, after a visit from their then commercial director allowed me to taste through their more current range of wines and reflect on our trip.

While the Stage 7 finish atop Arcalis may have given us the most exciting finish of the Tour thus far, it was the Stage 4 team time trial (TTT) that’s proven to be the most decisive stage of the race up to this point. It was one of the craziest, most dangerous TTT courses I’ve ever seen, twisting and turning, climbing and dropping through the narrow roads around Montpellier, the capitol of the Hérault and of the Languedoc-Roussillon. TTTs are more typically held on wide open roads as a sheer test of speed, precision and teamwork. While crashes in a TTT aren’t entirely uncommon, there were just a ridiculous number of spills in this year’s stage, the most dramatic of which has to have been the off-road wipeout of half the Boygues Telecom/Bbox Team.



After Stage 5 took the race through the heart of Corbières on its way from Le Cap d’Agde to Perpignan, Stage 6 saw the entire race transfer into Spain for a stage from Girona to Barcelona, finishing atop the Montjuich hill. When I think of Barcelona, I tend to think more of Antoni Gaudi and the beaches of the Costa Brava than of wine. If you were listening closely enough during the evening coverage of Stage 6, though, you may have caught commentator and ex-racer Bob Roll’s typically anti-Gallic comment that he “had to go Spain to find some good wine – an '04 Priorat….” As absurdly misguided as are Roll’s opinions on wine, he was right about one thing: Priorat is indeed just down the coast, to the south and west of Barcelona. Here’s another hit from the archives, my notes on the Priorats of Trio Infernal – Spanish wines made by a bunch of Frenchmen. Take that, Bob Roll!



To round things up….

Author Robert Camuto, who was kind enough to guest post here with the story of his day at Stage 2 of Le Tour, also chimed in with a response to my assertion that there is no wine grown in the tiny principality of Monaco, where the Tour started this year. Confirming my suspicion, he dropped this little tidbit my way:

“Bellet (Nice) would be the closest appellation to Monaco. Bellet has about 12 producers and is the only in-town appellation in France. Reds are made from the Folle Noire (lit. "Crazy Black") grape, which sort of unbelievably can have some fantastic pinot qualities after a few years in bottle. Best producer = Clos St. Vincent. (biodynamic etc.).”

As Le Tour reaches its midpoint, 31 Days of Natural Wine is heading towards its final stages at Cory Cartwright’s blog, Saignée. If you haven’t been following along, put down your work, sit down for a spell and catch up; you’ll find it worth your while. And stay tuned in the closing days for my contribution, an interview with Mr. L’Enfant Terrible himself, Michael Dashe of Dashe Cellars.

Finally, in the wake of all this action, I managed to miss a minor benchmark. My recent piece on the Chablis of Laurent Tribut marked my 500th posting here at MFWT. How’s that for a little pat on the back? Maybe I should open something decent tonight to celebrate.

First though, it’s time to grab some lunch and catch up on the Tour….

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A Duo of the Trio Infernal

It’s the busy season ‘round these parts. Though I’ve already hit on some of the highlights from the Brewer’s Plate on Sunday, I’d be remiss in not mentioning the earlier part of the day’s doubleheader. Two winegrowers – Peter Fischer (pictured, at left) from Coteaux d’Aix en Provence and Laurent Combier (at right) from Crozes-Hermitage – stopped by the shop for a meet, greet and taste with our customers. I spent the entire business portion of the day pouring, discussing their wines with the attendees and offering the occasional half-assed attempt at translation for Laurent (whose English is as good as my French, which is to say awkwardly serviceable) when Peter wasn’t near enough to save me.

I’ve written about one of Domaine Combier’s wines here before. They’re old favorites of mine – beautifully detailed and freshly fruit driven examples of Northern Rhône Syrah. We tasted his 2006, which was fresh off the boat. His name for it is “Cuvée Classique,” though it’s simply labeled as Crozes-Hermitage. The 2006 is a bit leaner and snappier than the more robust 2005 and certainly not as soft, rich and developed as the 2003. Nonetheless, the Asian spice, citrus zest and fresh crushed red berries that form the signature aromatic profile of Combier’s reds are present as always.

The day’s tasting progression actually started with the basic Coteaux d’Aix en Provence rouge from Peter Fischer’s estate, Château Revelette. In the past I’ve often found myself on the fence about Peter’s wines, not really understanding the whites, the rosé or the more heavily elaborated red, “Grand Rouge.” It’s amazing what a difference actually meeting a vigneron and getting to learn more about the peculiarities of an estate and its terroir can make. In other words, I really enjoyed his basic rouge. Peter selected it for the day because he wanted to highlight the typicity of his region, which is at the northern extreme and highest altitude of the sprawling Coteaux d’Aix appellation. The cool nights in the hills of the region help to keep the fruit healthy and fresh on the vine, retaining more acidity than typical in the more arid, southern parts of the region. The wine is a blend, in roughly equal parts, of Grenache, Syrah and Cabernet Sauvignon, fermented and aged in tank only. Medium bodied and with a lively acid profile, its combination of brambly black fruits and freshness recommends itself to a wide range of culinary matches.

Though both Fischer and Combier make a fairly broad portfolio of wines at their own estates, their primary purpose for the voyage was to present the wines from their new venture: Trio Infernal. The two men, along with Jean-Michel Gerin of Côte-Rôtie, bought a property in Spain’s Priorat in 2002. The three growers take turns, always two at a time, making the seven-hour road trip to Priorat once every week or two, staying for non-stop stints of 24-36 hours at a time. Of course, a full-time worker is on-hand at all times to ensure the health of the vines. As at both of their home estates, farming at the Infernal is organic and done purely by hand. A modestly natural approach is taken in the winery, with no fining, only light filtration and minimal application of sulfur.

The first two vintages at the estate were trying: 2002 for its heavy rains and 2003 for its high heat and drought conditions. In 2004, Peter explained that the trio got their arms fully around the nuances of the land, turning out wines that, by Priorat standards, were quite elegant. 2005 gave wines of more puissance – stronger of flavor, slightly fuller and a touch more tannic. For now, the trio produces only a duo of wines. Befitting their understandable obsession with the number three, they are simply called No. 1/3 and No. 2/3 (number one of three, number two of three, not one/third, two/third). They plan eventually to produce a third wine but don’t yet know what it will be.

No. 1/3 is a blend of 40% Carignan and 60% Grenache from vines spanning an age range from 15-35 years. It’s fermented in tank then aged in barrels of one, two, three and four wines. Though it’s firm of grip, there’s a bright red-fruit driven palate and young flavor profile that makes it approachable now. Laurent deems it worthy of up to eight years in the cellar; Peter ups the ante to ten.

No. 2/3 is 100% varietal Carignan, produced from extremely low yielding vines that were planted in 1906. Here, Carignan – usually relegated as a blending-only variety – shows that it can have something to say in its own right when produced from healthy, ancient vines. There’s an unmistakable aroma of dark cocoa powder and cinnamon along with crushed mulberries, all of which echo on the palate. This cuvee sees some new oak, which shows in the mouth but with good integration and in balance with the wine’s tannic structure. Both men find the wine tight at the moment and suggest it may go for twenty years. On day two, both wines were fully together, showing more openly ripe, slightly pruned dark berry and plummy fruit.

Typical Frechmen? It's a source of befuddlement for me that so many winemakers smoke. It doesn't seem to stop these guys from turning out good wines.
I’m the first to admit that I don’t drink much Priorat. Heck, I don’t drink much Spanish wine period. However, these two do show greater finesse and, not to overuse a good word, freshness than I’ve experienced in many other wines of the region. If there’s a problem, it’s that the wines fall hard in the context of QPR. At $50-60 and $100-110 respectively, they may be reasonably normal in the Priorat price range. I even understand the prices to a point; land costs are high, labor conditions are extreme and the journey alone is arduous. But I plain can’t afford to drink them. Thus is admitted one of the most commonly shared guilty pleasures of the public and private tasting experience.

If anyone out there has tried these wines or has other Priorats to recommend (or avoid), I’d love to hear your thoughts.

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