25 Years of Double Nickels on the Dime

I originally considered running this opposite my interview with California Zinfandel producer Michael Dashe that first appeared as a guest post at Saignée, but I half talked myself out of it and half ran short on time. Before doing the piece on Dashe, I hadn’t published a “formal” interview since my days of writing for DC music scene fanzines back in the 80s. When a friend reminded/clued me in that this month marks the 25th anniversary of the original release of Double Nickels on the Dime in July 1984, though, I just had to do it – no matter how self-indulgent.

Minutemen (there’s no “the” there) were one of my favorite bands of the early to mid 80s and Double Nickels was their benchmark release, an album that still passes the test of time with flying colors.

What you’ll find below is an interview that I conducted with D. Boon (guitar and vocals) and Mike Watt (bass and vocals) on January 3, 1985, in the basement dressing room of the old 9:30 Club in Washington, DC, prior to their gig in support of the release of Double Nickels. The transcript of the interview was originally published in WDC Period #8. I’ve transcribed it here verbatim, with minimal editing only for spelling, punctuation, and necessary info. (Any photo/scan captions are new additions.) It’s a moment in time, so please consider it that way. And consider yourself warned: it’s long. Enjoy the trip into the archives.

* * *

DMcD: How long have you been out on tour?

Watt: Oh, this is just a little blast. This is the first night and we’re playing tomorrow in Trenton, Saturday in New York, and Sunday in Boston and then back home. We’ll be out here April 11 – May 4 for a driver.

DMcD: Up and down the east coast?

Watt: Mainly east coast and the Great Lakes, that’s all, nowhere else. From now on we’re gonna do regional things.

DBoon: Makes sense, you don’t saturate….

Watt: Yeah, it affects your real life, two months on the road. But another thing is you saturate towns, especially if you don’t play areas and then rotate the areas. Black Flag’s having this trouble you know.

DMcD: Yeah, last time they were here only about 150 people showed up.

Watt: It’s the fourth time they’ve been to a town in three months. We want to stay away from that and do it by region so in April we’re gonna do this area, north to New England and the Great Lakes, and that’s all. Last time we did the whole fucking country and Canada – about 57 gigs.

DMcD: Didn’t that get a little expensive?

DBoon: Nah, we all made money. We were very lucky.

DMcD: You guys get a little more per show than most?

Watt: Oh, we average about 400 bucks per show… average… some shows more, some only 80. We made money on the tour though.

DBoon: We’re just thrifty. Ten bucks a day….

Watt: Ten bucks a day… some dude’s moochin’ (laughs).

The band toured every few months....
DMcD: A seasonal question: Did you guys make any new year’s resolutions?

DBoon: I did – to lose weight.

DMcD: D. stands for Dennis, right?

DBoon: With an e [Dennes], yes.

DMcD: Should that be off the record?

DBoon: No, that’s the name I was given. I’m a painter too, and I just sign my paintings D. Boon. You know when you have a two syllable name people kind of shorten it out – like your name’s David but we’re calling you Dave.

Watt: And D. was good too, ‘cause hardly anyone’s named that. There’s a lot of Dennises, but not the way he spells it. His ma spelled it wrong, with an e at the end.

DBoon: Actually, when it really got funny was when we were the Reactionaries. He was Mike Watt, George was G-man, and Marty was Mar-T. One syllable all the way.

Watt: This was our first punk rock band then.

DBoon: Marty [Tamburovich] was our old singer.

Watt: It was us three guys with a singer, the first time we ever wrote songs and all that.

DMcD: You played out in a shack?

Watt: We still play in a shed.

DMcD: Where’d the idea for the new album come from? You know, the cars on the cover and the engines revving on each side.

Watt: Well, we needed a concept to wrap it around ‘cause the Hüskers had this concept….

DMcD: You had to match the Hüskers, huh?

DBoon: Hell, a double album? We might as well.

Watt: But our tunes weren’t written all together as a concept, so we made one up.

DBoon: It’s Los Angeles, plus the title’s “Trucker Town.”

Watt: We drove 55 miles per hour…. It was the whole sprawl, you know, we thought it was really gonna be too sprawled for people, too spread out. We didn’t really think people would think it was so together as it turned out that people thought. So we tried all these interesting songs, other people’s lyrics, tried to keep people interested. We thought they’d get bored and think it was self-indulgent.

DBoon: We really did. We really thought it would be badly received.

DMcD: Whose car is on side 4?

Watt: Side Chaff. That’s all three of us revving up.

DBoon: On my side, my car’s a ’69 Chevy and two of the lifters aren’t paired right. It sounds like shit.

Watt: Almost as bad as my Volkswagen.

DMcD: Why’d you do “Little Man with a Gun in His Hand” again?

Watt: Originally, we had a really good two guitar part.

DBoon: I wrote the song and I wanted to do all these different things with it, you know. On Buzz or Howl [Under the Influence of Heat] it was like an experiment. We had just rehearsed it that day.

Watt: It was recorded live.

DBoon: And we went in the studio that night, so we did it.

Watt: And it’s recorded live to two-track, singin’ and playin’ at the same time. Buzz or Howl was done for $50, man. We jammed.

DBoon: And it was all done without any rehearsal…. I wanted to go back in and put overdubs and redo it the way it should have been.

Watt: That’s why we did it.

DBoon: We put an ending on it and stuff.

Watt: Oh yeah! The Buzz or Howl version doesn’t even have a real ending. We just faded it out.

DBoon: It fucked up in the bass and we just turned it down.

Watt: And then Spot added all that stuff like, “No one knows, no one knows….” That’s me yelling ‘cause those guys thought it fucked up the song and I said “No one knows.” Spot added that on without us knowing. He did the same thing on What Makes a Man Start Fires – “Where’s the blowtorch?” or something like that, and then all the little messages written in.

DMcD: The blank groove at the end of the record?

Watt: Yeah, that’s Spot and Joe Carducci. We have nothing to do with that. We’ve only scratched ‘em on one of our records. Most of them are Spot and Carducci. Carducci runs SST [Records].

DBoon: It’s kind of like their fun thing to do. I mean, they put out the records and all and they never really have a chance to help. I mean, they participate in their way but they just want something that they can have fun at. We’re not, like, upset about whatever they do.

Watt: No, no. We don’t take these things so seriously. We’re gonna start on our tenth record soon, you know. It’s just like a gig – we’re gonna have another record. It’s kind of neat. It’s called Tour Spiel and it’s got four tunes done live.

DMcD: A 7” on SST?

Watt: No, it’s on the Husker’s label and it’s got “Ain’t Talkin’ About Love,” “The Red and the Black,” “Green River,” and “Lost.” All four of those live from the Campaign Trail. Okay, that’s already done. At the end of this month we start the Mersh Project [Project: Mersh], which is gonna be a five song record which will be out April first.

DMcD: April fools day?

Watt: April Fools. And then ten days later we go on our tour, our Mersh tour. Mersh alive in ’85. It’s this joke we have. We’re gonna have songs that kind of fade out… no, I shouldn’t tell you what it is, it’ll ruin the surprise. You’ll see when it’s out. And then this summer another album, a real album. Minutemen albums are just like a gig in the studio. We really don’t put a lot into the production.

DMcD: Not a whole lot of overdubs or mixes?

Watt: Well, we’ll add another guitar… that’s it.

DBoon: You know, we do overdub but not extensively.

Watt: We don’t sing at the same time, but that’s it.

DBoon: On the whole double album, with all the songs in their entirety, we only spent $1200.

DMcD: How much studio time?

Watt: I’d say about six days. About 36-40 hours on the playing and maybe 20 hours on the mix. Ethan James mixed it. He used to be in Blue Cheer; now he works with the Minutemen. He had a different name in those days. He’s really nice. We worked in an 8-track studio; it’s very small and very real. You don’t have to do a second take, he’s got it. And that’s the way we like it. Just like gigs.


A classic Minutemen setlist... not sure whether this is from the show where I did the interview, the one before or the one after, but the time period's right.

DMcD: What’s your song writing process, if you have one?

Watt: There’s D. Boon songs, my songs and George songs, and there we go.

DBoon: A lot of them are jams; a lot of them are contrived.

Watt: Come to practice with a riff and here’s my words to it.

DMcD: Do you practice on your own a lot and think things up?

Watt: Sure, and then bring ‘em to the band. We hardly ever just start jamming’ out and then get a song out of it. We hardly ever do that. We’ve done it, but most of them – D. Boon brings in a riff, I’ll play to it, it’s his song. We’ve written over 200 songs and I think that way’s a little easier. You compromise. You give in on his song, he gives in on your song – you get a process down. George writes words; he’s really not into writing the music.

DBoon: There’s no absolute leader or direction point. We all take part.

Watt: Me and Dennes have been playin’ together since we were 13, so that’s 14 years.

DMcD: Did you have a cover tune band or something?

Watt: Not even that, just in the bedroom. Blue Oyster Cult, T. Rex, Creedence Clearwater Revival….

DBoon: And my parents would come up and tell us to “turn that shit down.”

Watt: Yeah right, and then in high school we really only made a couple of gigs. Mostly just jammin’ in the bedroom. We come from the middle 70s, you know.

DBoon: Boredom!

Watt: I wasn’t into a club until I was 19. I saw the Talking Heads at the Whiskey in ’77, when you could actually see the dudes play. And then the local bands like the Germs. I said, “We can do this,” and it was hard to get D. Boon to do it but then we went for it after about half a year. Pedro was really backwards. Couldn’t get nobody to really do it.

DBoon: The first punk show I went to I was going, “Man, those people are crazy.” At my first show I was just checkin’ it out and like a week later we went again and then I went down and pogo-ed.

Watt: Yeah, you did say, “Hey, these guys are lame,” because you’re so used to the stadium thing that you forget that these guys are tryin’ something on their own. But you don’t know that. You’re brought up on that whole ‘70s aesthetic of “the show goes on.”

DBoon: I mean, nobody can be ELP, so you might as well forget it. I mean, that’s the way it was.

Watt: Just hope to copy the record. You never even thought of writing tunes.

DBoon: Like the best guitar player in school was the guy who could play like Jimmy Page, and it was hands down, no contest. No one else could come close.

Watt: No one would write their own tunes.

DBoon: Well, they would, but they’d be like two chords or somethin’ and a big lead jam.

Watt: Well everyone had their, you know… you did “Burn” (laughs). Those were different days and we’re glad they’re gone…. So that’s what we come from. We don’t really come from jazz backgrounds; that’s what we developed in our twenties.

DBoon: Tell him that catch about….

Watt: Oh yeah, we do have a jazz influence: Buck Dharma. His dad was a top saxophonist, and there’s our jazz connection.

DMcD: Through Blue Oyster Cult?

Watt: Oh yeah, we were heavily into Buck but we thought BOC was the most progresso rock, you know. Tyranny and Mutation – this is the hardest rock. We really looked up to them, you know. Creedence was real easy; that’s how we learned. So that’s what we come out of, that’s our history – comin’ up from Pedro to check out the Hollywood punk rock and finally getting’ balls to try it on our own. And then finally, hardcore happens. Hardcore happened two years after punk rock. I hope people realize that. Anyways… and then Black Flag got all kinds of gigs and we got to open for them. Hundreds of gigs getting spit on… (laughs). But they were gigs!

DBoon: Before the days of Black Flag there was this big upper thing, though. Like if you weren’t from Hollywood then you could never play a Hollywood gig.

Watt: That’s how punk rock was in L.A. – ya’ couldn’t have a tan! If you had a tan like you had been in the sun, they knew you were from Orange County.

DBoon: And if you wore a t-shirt or, like, Levis….

Watt: Yeah, you had to wear black.

DMcD: You had to look anemic and wear black clothes…?

Watt: Right (laughs).

DBoon: It wasn’t like if your hair was long or anything, cause Hollywood guys had real long hair and they just tied it up.

Watt: Sure, most of ‘em were burned out critters.

DBoon: If you didn’t have a hair style… yeah, we didn’t have hair style or anything. I mean, we kinda’ got into it….

Watt: We painted Clash thing on our shirts. We saw the Clash when they first came and we painted things on our shirts.

DBoon: But, you know, Hollywood people were just really bent on appearance. But we would go up there with our six packs and stuff and just watch bands. We always tried to get gigs but we were from the suburbs. Finally, Black Flag started getting really gig gigs where 500 people would come.

Watt: Their second gig was our first gig. They really just happened into that. It was weird how that hardcore thing happened, but what it did was it moved from Hollywood to the suburbs. There were no bands….

DMcD: But now there’s a band for every block in Orange County.

Watt: We’ve noticed, which was kind of neat about the Hollywood bands. It was fucked that they were elitists, but a lot of the bands were different. You could tell them apart. That Decline [of Western Civilization] movie, I think, really made things almost all the same. You go into these little towns and they all have their Decline band, and that’s the only band there, and they’re real radical. But I try to tell ‘em, “Hey, it really ain’t that way. It’s been happening for eight years. It’s an institution. Take the ball and run with it, you’re free enough. You’re lucky you ain’t like us, growin’ up and havin’ to play somebody else’s shit. You don’t have to do that now.” I think it’ll close up again.

DMcD: You really think so?

Watt: Oh sure, things are circles. We have guitar solos. When we started the Minutemen, we killed all the guitar solos. We didn’t want any of that. Now we have guitar solos.

DMcD: Still no choruses, though.

Watt: Not yet. We just try whatever we try, you know, but things do revolve in circles I think. Try for a direction.


The cover photos from "Double Nickels" were a geeked-out way to wrap up the concept album. The concept turned out to have a tragically ironic twist, though, when D. Boon died in a car accident just before Xmas 1985, less than two years after the album's release. There was no Internet those days and long distance calls were expensive; I found out about D.'s passing via a press release from SST. Listening to Double Nickels has been poignant ever since....


DMcD: I hear you guys have been doing acoustic gigs lately.

Watt: Sure, we’ve done about twelve of them. They’re just like electric gigs except we’ve got acoustic guitars. We don’t change the songs, except for some parts.

DBoon: George plays bongos. It’s pretty beatnik.

Watt: We just do it to fill a different demand. We don’t really play folksy songs, we just play the same old songs exactly that way.

DMcD: Any chance of one of those happening here in DC?

Watt: Sure, why not?

DBoon: Maybe we should try to set up something where we play earlier and play at different places.

Watt: We’re still jumpin’ around and stuff but it’s just all little. It’s kind of fun. We don’t really sit there and wail out Woody Guthrie. A lot of bands do, like the Knitters. They’re some people from X but they play all this different stuff. They don’t play X songs on acoustic guitar.

DMcD: So… there’s a promo 12” for Double Nickels that has etching on a blank side.

Watt: Right, that’s the radio promo, “The Wheel of Fortune.”

DMcD: There’s a dollar sign…

DBoon: A swastika, a hammer and sickle…

Watt: And a joint. All inside a wheel.

DMcD: Why?

DBoon: That’s Carducci.

DMcD: Somebody told me it was because one of you was a die-hard republican, one of you was a communist, one of you gets high and you all drive cars. (Meanwhile, D. Boon cracks up in the background.)

Watt: Nah, you know, it’s like, “Where’s the wheel land this time?” That’s what it meant; that’s what Carducci…

DBoon: Well, you see, back home we have this reputation of being, like, a political band, politically conscious, right, and those guys make fun of us like it’s a waste of time. You know… you should just worry about this and worry about that. It was just kinda’ like a joke. It’s like we all smoke pot and we all drive cars and we talk about money and communism and fascism, but not in any direct point of view like we’re behind this or that. It’s more him just making fun of us. And I kinda liked it; I thought it was funny, especially the joint. It was just a joke, you know. It was a Carducci joke.

Watt: I know what it was. He told me when he did it. We only had one record for the radio promo ‘cause it was too expensive to give out the double album. We had one side – 9 songs. He picked them. We called it the “Wheel of Fortune” ‘cause this was the first time we ever culled songs, so it was like “spin the wheel and where does it land.”

DMcD: For the nine songs?

Watt: No, for the whole idea, and Joe’s idea at the time was like us, our personalities, like when you talk to him the guy’s got a joint in his mouth or he’s rappin’ on commies, and he’s like, “Where’s the wheel spin this time?” We all smoke pot but we’re not into Nazism, but a lot of radio stations we wrote to were angry over that. They thought we were pro-Nazi. No way! It was just like the messages added onto the end of all the other records, this objective SST viewpoint.

DBoon: And the English release...

Watt: The England SST doesn’t feel real confident about us ‘cause we’ve sold hardly any records in Europe. Hüsker does great, Meat Puppets does great but we do really bad. The cover’s gonna be like the US Double Nickels but it does not open and it’s black and white. I don’t know why they don’t like us over there that much. Maybe it’s the name….

DMcD: I never thought about that. Maybe you’re just not “hard” enough… then again the Meat Puppets are not too hard, either.

Watt: They’re gonna make a third record on SST soon. Live, they’re not like their records at all. Their gigs are on or off, they get too buzzed when they’re playing. They get all bummed out and turn into themselves. Sometimes they play real good…. They know how to play good, though; you can tell on the records.

DMcD: So, going back to what we were talking about earlier, do you consider yourselves a political band?

DBoon: We are aware of people.

DMcD: Like on the first seven inch, Paranoid Time, all the songs have political lyrics.

Watt: Yeah, it was a paranoid time. We were writin’ about what was on our minds at that time. It was the first time we wrote songs in our fuckin’ life. It wasn’t like the Reactionaries, ‘cause those songs were real boring. That’s what we were like then, and that’s the first time we ever wrote tunes. As a band, sure, some of our songs are political. It’s mostly commentary.

OVER.

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And out... with a classic video, one of the two released in support of Double Nickels on the Dime.

Intro only...

Ampelidae: Growing Ambition in Marigny-Brizay

I first met Frédéric Brochet, majority owner of and winemaker at Ampelidae, sometime in late-2002 or mid-2003. He was on a quick business oriented tour of the Mid-Atlantic States and his schedule allowed for little more than time to exchange pleasantries and for me to ask him a question or two about his winemaking and viticultural practices. My main question – something to the effect of whether he farmed organically or biodynamically – must have stuck in his head, as when I visited his property in February of 2004 he not only recognized me right away (always a nice thing) but quickly brought up the topic of our original discussion….

A view of the estate from the main driveway, February 2004.
I’m getting a little ahead of myself here, though, so let’s back up a bit. Ampelidae is a modestly scaled winery located in Marigny-Brizay, a commune of the Vienne Department located thirty-odd kilometers NNE of Poitiers in the southwestern sector of the greater Loire Valley. It sits in the crossroads between the Massif Central and the Massif Breton, in an area with ancient viticultural history but without a well-known modern viticultural presence to back it up, reflected in the fact that the area’s wines are not recognized with AOC status. The region includes about 800 hectares of vines, three-fourths of which are Co-Op operated. Independent, forward-thinking producers are in the distinct minority.

Frédéric (pictured at right) was born on the property in 1972 and his father, Christian Brochet, first gave him the opportunity to make his own wine in 1990. Perhaps not surprisingly, Frédéric went on to study oenology at university. After a working a stage in Australia in 1992, he returned to pursue a PhD in oenology at the University of Bordeaux, focusing on the cognitive aspects of wine tasting. He immediately made an impression there, conducting a series of rather mischievous tastings targeted at proving just how subjective wine tasting can be.

The estate itself is relatively young, established by Frédéric in 1995 and since expanded around the heart of the property that was originally owned by his father. As with so many other vignerons of the current generation, Frédéric is the first to estate bottle wines from his family’s farm, which includes about 35 hectares of vineyards. Those vineyards – situated on or near battleground sites from 5th, 8th and 14th Century conflicts – span a wide swath across a gently sloping hillside, providing all vines with southern exposure. Cabernet Franc and Sauvignon Blanc are planted on the chalky soils near the base of the slope; Chardonnay and Pinot Noir take root in the clay, sandstone and flint base of the mid-slope; and Sauvignon Blanc and Cabernet Sauvignon can be found in the acid, sandy soils at the top of the slope.

The Brochets purchase vine stock from reputable estates in Burgundy and Bordeaux and also propagate vines via their own massal selection. Farming is organic; certification has not been sought. In the vineyards, the soil is turned annually between every row, allowing natural mulch and moisture to aerate the topsoil, keeping it loose and healthy. During the growing season, grass, mâche, wild asparagus and other plant life are allowed to grow amongst the vines, helping to prevent erosion and also attracting an array of insects that are competitive to malignant vine pests, thus eliminating any need for insecticides.

Another view of the property, in a warmer time of year.
In addition to farming his own land, Monsieur Brochet also buys in fruit – mostly Sauvignon Blanc and Gamay – from a number of locally contracted growers with whom he has the ability to guide and dictate farming practices. Wines are made on two basic levels. The so-called “Premium” line is branded as “Marigny-Neuf,” a name meant to capture the essence of the winery’s locale in Marigny-Brizay along with Brochet’s drive to breathe new life into the area’s old and largely forgotten viticultural traditions. These are varietal, négociant bottlings, combining estate-grown and purchased fruit; all vinification is done in steel, with an eye toward a direct expression of local varietal character. The estate bottled Ampelidae wines, what Frédéric considers his “Super Premium” collection, are all barrel aged, richer in extract and more modern in their flavor and textural profiles. At the time of our visit, all the wines fell within the appellation of VDQS Haut-Poitou, a designation which Brochet has recently dropped in favor of Vin de Pays de Val de Loire.

Getting back to where we started, remembering my old question regarding organics and biodynamics, Frédéric made it clear that he prefers technology to what he referred to as “the new age.” His position is reflected not only by the adoption of such modern tools as computer modeling – used to predict the risks of mildew relative to the area’s rainfall – but also by his sense of ambition. He clearly wants his wines to be taken seriously and works accordingly in his cellars, striving to craft wines that may eventually fetch prices far above and beyond the current standards of his neighborhood.

While visiting one of the several small wine making and barrel aging facilities scattered around his property, he extracted barrel samples of a wine that encapsulates that ambition. It was a Pinot Noir he called “L’Étoile” from the 2003 vintage, a wine I believe he’s still yet to market. His goal: to produce what he called a “thick-style” Pinot Noir that might sell to the high-end restaurant market for upwards of 100 Euros per bottle. Based on what we tasted, I couldn’t see it. But we could certainly see the hope in his eyes.

At the time of our visit, the estate seemed to be at a crossroads not unlike the one represented by their location halfway between the pacific culture of the Loire and the mercantile nature of Bordeaux, not far to the south. The best wines were the simplest wines, the “Marigny-Neuf” line, pure, fresh, clean, eminently drinkable and very affordable. The identity of the more serious wines was still punctuated by a question mark. That question is one I think will be answered only with time, as M. Brochet’s sense of purpose falls back into step with his connection to his land. I’ve had very little exposure to the “Ampelidae” line since the time of our visit, but the promise that continues to show via the Marigny-Neuf wines suggests that Ampelidae remains a winery worth watching.


If you’re hankering for more detail, here are the tasting notes from our visit.

• 2003 Marigny-Neuf Gamay
  Smoky, peppery, ripe red berry fruit. Slightly aggressive but bottled only three weeks earlier. In need of a little time to settle down.
  
  
• 2003 Marigny-Neuf Pinot Noir
  Bottled only two-weeks earlier but already more centered than the Gamay. Crisp, bright griotte fruit, with delicate tannins and a sweetly herbal nose.
  
  
• 2002 Marigny-Neuf Cabernet
  A blend of 80% Cabernet Franc and 20% Cabernet Sauvignon. Meaty and peppery, with plenty of bell pepper going on. Round mouthfeel contrasted by toothy tannins.
  
  
• 2001 Ampelidae “Le K”
  Opposite to the above, this was a blend of 20% Cabernet Franc and 80% Cabernet Sauvignon, aged in barrel. Rich. Aiming at opulence without arriving at sur-maturity. Dark black cherry fruit and a slightly bitter finish.
  
  
• 2002 Ampelidae “P.N. 1328”
  The signature wine of the estate, this is a Pinot Noir named for the address of the old family house. Spicy black fruit and mature aromatic characteristics.
  
  
• 2001 Ampelidae “Le G”
  Barrel aged Gamay. Reductive and aggressively animal on the nose, like sulfured manure.
  
  
• 2003 Marigny-Neuf Rosé
  70% Gamay, 20% Cabernet Sauvignon, 6% Pinot Noir and 4% Groillot. Very nice wine, with clean fruit and decent backing acidity.
  
  
• 2002 Ampelidae “Le X”
  Unusual wine. Varietal Pinot Noir, barrel aged and finished with 38 grams of residual sugar (RS). Like drinking light strawberry preserves.
  
  
• 2002 Marigny-Neuf Chardonnay
  Smoky, apple-y fruit, with a hint of melon and red berries. Crisp and easy drinking.
  
  
• 2003 Marigny-Neuf Sauvignon Blanc
  Riper and rounder than the 2002 (which I was selling at the time). Clean citrus fruit, with a bit of grass and flintiness on the nose. Good mouthfeel.
  
  
• 2003 Ampelidae “Blanc d’Hiver”
  Sauvignon Blanc aged in old oak casks, made for the first time in 2003. Creamy and sweet-fruited, with peach and melon nuances. Finished at 13% alcohol with 13 grams RS.
  
  
• 2002 Ampelidae “Le C”
  Barrel aged Chardonnay, with lots of smoky oak on the nose. The wood was better integrated on the palate. Flowers on the nose and rich texture in the mouth, finishing ever so slightly off-dry.
  
  
• 2001 Ampelidae “Le S”
  This is the barrel aged Sauvignon Blanc. Quite nice on the palate, showing some oak (which was more neutral on the nose). Well balanced.

We also had the opportunity, if just barely, to sit down with a few of Frédéric’s wines over a very fine lunch at Le Pavillon Bleu in Bonneuil Matours.

• “Armance B” Brut NV
  This is a Vin Mousseux de Qualité, made in the traditional method and named after Frédéric’s grandmother, whose maiden name was Armance. Based primarily on Folle Blanche, rounded out with small proportions of Chardonnay and Sauvignon Blanc, it spends 14-15 months on the lees before disgorgement. Best when young. Fresh, creamy and lively.
  
  
• 2003 Marigny-Neuf Gamay “Rouge d’Automne”
  One-third of the fruit for this cuvée sees carbonic maceration; the other two-thirds goes through traditional vinification. Softer and juicier than the “regular” Gamay. Maybe the most enjoyable wine of the day, and pretty tasty with the chef’s “Terrine de Pot au Feu en Ravigote.”
  
  
• 2001 Ampelidae “P.N 1328”
  This improved in the presence of “Filets de Porc Rôti” but was nonetheless marred by alcoholic heat and an oak influence that punched over the wine’s fruit.

(First photograph courtesy of Eric Tuverson. All other images courtesy of Ampelidae.com.)

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Digging Through the Crypt

After a long hiatus and in spite of the time demands of the holiday crunch, I'm feeling it's high time to dig back into my travel journals from the past few years and start writing up some more winery profiles. My only hesitation is that some of these visits go back nearly five years. The details don't worry me, as my notes are pretty good and even my memory still functions fairly soundly. However, I'd welcome feedback from any and all passersby on a few questions:

• Do you find old tasting notes relevant?
  
• Does anyone care about Bordeaux any more?
  
• Is five years (France, February 2004) too long?
  
• Or should I skip ahead to Italy, February 2006?

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Celebrating the Chevaliers de Chezelet

This is the final installment of a three-part story of a visit at Chinon's Vignoble Gasnier in February 2004. Links to parts one and two can be found at the end of this posting.

When we’d passed through the dining hall at Domaine Gasnier earlier in the day, in search of some clean stemware, I couldn’t help but notice the hot plates placed at regular intervals along the long, wooden banquet table. I took pause for a moment to ponder their specific purpose; however, we quickly moved on to the more pressing matter of tasting.

When we returned later that night for dinner at Fabrice’s invitation, the first thing we realized was that our group of nine wine travelers had been joined by two dozen or so graduate students from the University in Tours. They’d come for the day to learn about the particulars of the agricultural and culinary history of Cravant Les Coteaux. Not long after, the purpose of those hot plates became clear. Fondue. But I’m getting ahead of myself….


The cultural connection between Rabelais and Chinon (that's Fabrice Gasnier on the right) would become clear as the night wore on.
The next time you think of staging a horizontal/vertical tasting of Chinon for you and thirty or forty friends, consider something along the lines of that evening’s event.

As an aperitif, we were all offered a glass of sparkling rosé, poured from clear glass, unlabeled bottles. It turned out, unbeknownst to me at that time, that Fabrice produced small quantities of sparkling “Chinon” every year, for the sole purpose of enjoying it with family and friends. Since then, perhaps encouraged by our enthusiasm for it, he’s decided to commercialize the wine as a non-AOC bubbly (Chinon regulations do not allow for sparkling wine) called “La Cravantine,” which you can read more about here. Dry, soft, fruity and deliciously quaffable, we enjoyed our first glasses and were offered refills while it lasted.

Dinner started with a simple salad of fresh greens with smoked salmon and local chevre, accompanied by Fabrice’s 2003 Chinon Rosé. Next up was the aforementioned fondue.

This was not your everyday fondue. No oil, cheese or chocolate was to be found. Instead, each fondue pot was filled with basic Chinon rouge, cut with a little water and stock and seasoned with a handful of fresh herbs. Placed in front of every few guests was a plate of glistening, ruby-red cubes of local beef, a mound of potatoes that had been roasted in the hall’s open hearth and a bundle of fondue forks – nothing more, nothing less. With a minute or so in the bubbling pot of Chinon, each morsel of beef emerged perfectly medium-rare, infused with the flavors of the place we’d spent so much time discovering earlier in the day. The only problem was remembering to heed that minute timing, as both wine and conviviality flowed around the communal table.

Fabrice started everyone off with the current release, 2002, of his “Cuvée Les Graves.” I’m not sure what was opened around the rest of the table, but Fabrice raided the cellar for our little corner of the room. Bottles of 1997 and 1996 “Cuvée Prestige” were followed by “Cuvée Fabrice” from 1999, 2000 and 2001. A bottle of “Cuvée Vieilles Vignes” from 1989, a great vintage (which Fabrice made us guess after tasting), was still bright and youthful, rounded at its edges and evocative of dried plums enjoyed around a campfire at the end of a long, autumn walk in the forest.


As the fondue furor subsided, Jacky Gasnier, Fabrice’s father, made his presence know at the front of the hall. Following his retirement from winemaking a few years earlier, Jacky had assumed the duties as head of the local Rabelais appreciation society, the Chevaliers de Chezelet. Apparently, one of my co-workers and fellow travelers, Eric Tuverson, had made a lasting impression during his previous visit with the Gasniers. I think it may have had something to do with a certain drinking technique he displayed at a local rugby match. In any event, Jacky had gathered a couple of members of the Chevaliers to make Eric part of their brotherhood. In keeping with François Rabelais’ famous quote, “Beuvez toujours, vous ne mourrez jamais” (Drink always and never die), Eric’s induction ceremony involved a bottle of Chinon and the largest wine glass I’d ever seen. I’ll say no more, other than that it provided a truly Rabelaisian ending to a long day of learning and fun.

* * *
Related posts:

Part One: On the Farm in Chinon with Fabrice Gasnier
Part Two: Tasting Chinon with Fabrice Gasnier

Intro only...

Tasting Chinon with Fabrice Gasnier

This is installment two of a February 2004 visit at Vignoble Gasnier in Chinon. If you missed part one, please see On the Farm in Chinon with Fabrice Gasnier.

Our walk through the vineyards and tour of the Cravant Les Coteaux hillsides complete, we headed to Fabrice’s cellar and winery to learn what happens indoors and to sample what he had wrought from the last couple of vintages. Gasnier’s winery is dominated by cement vats, which Fabrice prefers to steel for their slight oxygen permeability. All vats are temperature controlled, with all primary and most malolactic fermentation conducted in cement. The couple of stainless steel tanks in evidence are used only for assemblage and short-term holding. All fruit is de-stemmed and sorted prior to being crushed in a small vertical press. Following natural malolactic fermentation, the wines are left alone, saving for some occasional batonage if deemed necessary.

Fabrice Gasnier pulling a sample from the younger of the two foudres in which he ages his "Cuvée Vieilles Vignes."
Vignoble Gasnier bottles six different wines: four reds – cuvées called Les Graves, Vieilles Vignes, Prestige (since renamed Cuvée à l’Ancienne) and Fabrice – one rosé and a sparkling wine. As no white fruit is planted, Chenin Blanc being the only permitted variety in AOC Chinon whites, no white wine is made. Box wine is produced and available for local sale only.

“Cuvée Les Graves” is Gasnier’s “young vine” red, made from an assemblage of various parcels from throughout the property but dominated by those planted in the gravelly (thus the name) soil nearest the river. It is varietal Cabernet Franc. Less conscientious producers in some parts of the world might be tempted to call this an old vines bottling, as it comes from 20-25 year-old vines. Fruit from any vines younger than 20 is either sold off or used to produce the aforementioned box wines. “Les Graves” represents about 50% of the estate’s total annual production of roughly 10,000 cases. Fermentation is conducted in two separate batches at different temperatures: one at about 22 degrees Celsius to highlight aromatics and one at around 28 degrees to provide extraction and body. Malolactic follows, also in cement, at a cooler temperature of 20 degrees. Maceration lasts 16-17 days. Assemblage of the two batches is performed after completion of primary and secondary fermentation. Typically bottled in May following the vintage, it is the only one of the reds that sees no wood whatsoever. Because the six month aging regime does not allow enough time for all solids to settle in the large-volume cement vats, a light filtration is conducted before bottling.

Gasnier’s “Cuvée Vieilles Vignes,” also 100% Cabernet Franc, comes from vines of 45-50 years, planted in soils of both argilo-siliceous and gravelly character. Primary and malolactic fermentations are conducted in cement, with a maceration period of 22 days. The wine is then moved into two large, 3700 liter oak foudres, one older than the other, for aging. The contents of the two casks are remarried in steel cuves, after which, again because of volume, a light filtration is performed prior to bottling in the September following the vintage. In all cases, Fabrice prefers to bottle on the early side in order to preserve fruit freshness. The Vieilles Vignes represents about 25% of the estate’s annual production.

The “Cuvée Prestige” comes from two specific plots of even older vines – 50-55 years – grown entirely in argilo-siliceous soil. A touch of Cabernet Sauvignon, a small amount of which is planted in one of Fabrice’s oldest plots, makes it into the Prestige. The Cabernet Sauvignon, which is vinified separately, never represents more than 10% of the final blend. Initial vinification practices, in terms of fermentation vessel and maceration period, are identical to the Vieilles Vignes. Aging, though, occurs in barriques used previously for two to six years. Here, the settling rate in smaller casks allows for bottling, also in September following the vintage, with no filtration. Beginning with the 2004 release, “Cuvée Prestige” was rechristened as “Cuvée à l’Ancienne.” This bottling makes up 15% of Gasnier’s annual production. For reasons unbeknownst to me, though perhaps because it tends to have the sternest character of the four reds, this is the cuvée least frequently available on the US market.

Gasnier’s top red is also his most modern. Though I’ve referred to it for years as “Cuvée Fabrice,” it was only in 2005 that Fabrice actually made it official with a subtle change to the wine’s label, replacing the signature “Fabrice Gasnier” with the name “Cuvée Fabrice.” It seems somewhat common for young vignerons, taking over chief winemaking responsibilities from the previous generation, to add a new or signature wine to the lineup. I’m not sure, though, how many decide to name it in self-homage. Somehow it does seem to fit Fabrice’s big, garrulous personality. Anyway, back to the wine….

“Fabrice” comes from a single plot of the oldest vines (60+ years) on the property. As with “Cuvée Prestige,” it includes 5-10% Cabernet Sauvignon. Primary fermentation, as with all of Gasnier’s wines, occurs in cement. At 25 days, maceration is longer than with the other wines. The modern approach begins after maceration and fermentation, as the wine is moved to barriques – 50% new and 50% one-year-old – for malolactic fermentation and aging. As this regime suggests, it is the only wine in Fabrice’s portfolio that shows an obvious oak influence, at least in terms of aroma and primary flavors. It is bottled without filtration after 14 months, in December of the year following its vintage, and represents only 5% of total production.

The remaining five percent of the Gasniers’ crop goes to the production of Rosé. It is produced by taking a bleeding (saignée) of juice from the production of various lots of Cabernet Franc after 24-48 hours of maceration, depending on the vintage characteristics and the desired level of color extraction. Fermentation is then conducted entirely in cement, with bottling in the spring following harvest.

At the time of our visit in 2004, Fabrice also produced tiny quantities of an unlabeled, unnamed sparkling wine, solely for consumption by family and friends. It is varietal Cabernet Franc, solely from the gravelly terroir of the estate. Lacking the facilities and equipment necessary to craft méthode traditionelle wines, he takes his fruit to the local cooperative, where it is produced, aged sur-latte for one year and bottled without dosage. Since then, perhaps based on our vociferous prodding at dinner later that night, he’s started to commercialize small quantities. He calls it “La Cravantine,” a diminutive term for a creation of the Cravant Les Coteaux commune. Originally produced as rosé, he now strives for a clear Blanc de Noir; a barely discernible salmon hue can still be detected by a knowing eye.

Fabrice feels that Chinon rouge, in general, shows its best between three-to-six years of age. Drinking earlier is ok, of course, while wines from the best vintages can be candidates for 10-15 years or more. He opted to begin our tasting session with finished wines, primarily from the bottled but not yet shipped 2002 vintage, which he considers one of the best growing years since 1996.

• Chinon “Cuvée Les Graves,” 2002
  Beautifully aromatic, with lots of red currant fruit, leaves and spice. Gentle but lively tannic structure. Fabrice always regards this as his “cuvée gourmande,” intended for every day, easy drinking. A pure expression of Cabernet Franc.
  
  
• Chinon “Cuvée Vieilles Vignes,” 2002
  Aromatically closed but already showing richness of body. Less peppery than in some years but still showed fresh, herbaceous suggestions of dill and basil. Darker red tree fruits than in “Les Graves.” Excellent grip.
  
  
• Chinon “Cuvée Prestige,” 2002
  Continuing the climb upwards in terms of grip and structure. Some influence from wood tannins, along with gorgeous fruit concentration. Wild raspberries, cassis and rainier cherries.
  
  
• Chinon “Cuvée Fabrice,” 2002
  The richest texture, with dark plum and black currant fruit. The oak is forward but adds well integrated vanillin and chocolate overtones. A hint of earth on the nose.
  
  
• Chinon “Cuvée Prestige,” 2001
  Here we found the bell pepper that was less in evidence in the 2002 wines. Fresh, damp, loamy earth on the nose. Starting to show some bottle bouquet. Definitely a food wine (but then all Chinon is…).

The landscape surrounding Gasnier's vineyards in Chezelet provides a natural environment for bottle aging caves, excavated directly into the tufa hillsides.
Notes from barrel tastings may not make for the most exciting reading. However, tasting from barrel and vat – particularly after tasting from bottle and spending so much time learning about the viticultural and oenological peculiarities of a producer’s various wines – can be extremely illuminating. It can help to give one a greater sense of how any given wine comes together, from its component parts and through the vinification regimen, to form a whole.

• A sample of “Les Graves” 2003, from a vat fermented at warmer temperature, had a deep purple color, was firmly tannic and still held a trace of unresolved CO2. The warmer fermentation, combined with a preceding three-day cold soak, is intended to give structure to the final blend. I could almost sense the vines’ plant matter on the palate.
  
  
• From another tank of “Les Graves” 2003, fermented cooler for attainment of aromatic freshness, the scents were more peppery and wine-like. Tannins were softer and suppler. It tasted more finished, with no traces of carbon dioxide.
  
  
• 2003 “Vieilles Vignes,” from the older of two large foudres, had a very peppery nose and showed signs of reduction. In Fabrice’s words, it was “going through a bizarre stage.” Yet it showed promising concentration and structure.
  
  
• From the younger cask of 2003 “VV,” aromas were more shut down but the wine was softer and already pleasing in the mouth, with no signs of reductivity. All wine coming from the same sites and same fermentation tanks, the only difference between the two samples was the age of the foudres, with the younger cask allowing more oxygen interchange between wood and wine than in its older neighbor.
  
  
• 2003 “Prestige” tasted from barrel was lush and velvety in texture. Rich cherry kirsch, with nary a hint of pepperiness in the mouth. Substantial grip. At 13.6% potential alcohol and lower apparent acidity than in the Graves and VV, this was showing signs of what to expect from the freakish 2003 vintage.
  
  
• That trend continued with a sample of “Cuvée Fabrice” 2003, pulled from barrel. Dense and dark but ungenerous on the nose. Very rich palate. Plenty of oak influence on the nose. Already, the lower than usual acidity along with the opulent nature of its fruit pointed toward a wine that would be a hit with the “big red crowd,” not the usual Chinon audience. At 13.8% potential alcohol, this was harvested at about a degree higher than in a typical vintage.

To bring us back from the raw experience of tasting samples of the big 2003s and to finish off our tasting session, Fabrice extracted the cork from a bottle of his 1998 signature cuvée. As it turned out, he’d also chosen to finish on a high note. In 1998, Fabrice did not use any new oak for this wine, instead aging it in all first passage barrels that he’d purchased from Château Margaux. The same barrels, he told us, were now (in 2004 that is) being used for his “Cuvée Prestige.” Beautiful aromatic development had occurred in the bottle, with a nose of dried red fruits, fresh tanned leather, curing tobacco and prunes which followed to a supple, silky and well balanced palate. Red currants and intensely concentrated strawberry preserves blossomed on the follow through. Lovely stuff.

* * *
Our work day was done but there was still more to come. Fabrice and his wife Sandrine invited us to return for dinner. It would turn out to be quite the Rabelaisian evening…. So please stay tuned for part three, coming soon.

Intro only...

On the Farm in Chinon with Fabrice Gasnier

Provided with impetus by the most recent Wine Blogging Wednesday theme – French Cabernet Franc – we return to the midpoint of a European wine junket. It’s late February 2004, on my group’s second day in the middle-Loire. Leaving our morning appointment with Domaine Ricard, near Thésée la Romaine, just east of Chenonceau, we headed west, straight past Tours and toward the western border of the Touraine district, toward Chinon.


After stopping to check into our rooms and freshen up, we grabbed a quick bite to eat – ham and cheese on baguettes from a local café. Our hotel, directly across the Vienne River from the center of Chinon, provided a spectacular view of the fortress that dominates Chinon’s profile. No time to sightsee though. We were right back to it. Heading across the river and turning immediately right, we avoided the town center entirely, instead following the path of the Vienne back eastwards, against its flow, to the commune of Cravant Les Coteaux. It was there, in the small hamlet of Chezelet, that we were scheduled to visit Vignoble Gasnier.

We discovered Fabrice Gasnier at work in his vineyards, pruning his vines in preparation for the coming of spring. Fabrice began his work at the property during the benchmark vintage of 1989. He and his father Jacky, who has since retired, incorporated the Domaine as it now stands in 1993. Their family has owned land and farmed here in Chezelet for four generations, during which time the estate has grown from its original three hectares to its current 24. All of those 24 hectares – 23 planted to Cabernet Franc and one to Cabernet Sauvignon – are located on the flat portions of the Cravantine landscape, within a two kilometer radius of Chezelet. Finding Fabrice in his fields presented the perfect opportunity to really gain an understanding of his farming techniques and of some of the peculiarities of his terroir.

All of Gasnier’s vines are Simple Guyot trained, with one main baguette producing seven eyes. A second, smaller baguette is pruned to two eyes and trained in the opposite direction, the intention being both to begin the growth cycle for the following year’s season and to prevent bunch clustering. Farming is entirely organic (the estate is now in the process of organic certification through ECOCERT), using only natural products and homeopathic principles, practices which Fabrice describes as preventive rather than curative viticulture. Predator insects and bio-organisms are relied upon for pest control. As we can see, standing in a freshly plowed 2.5 hectare plot of vines planted by his grandfather 50-60 years earlier, the earth is turned regularly to promote deep root systems and a maximum expression of terroir. Following pruning – and completing the cycle – vine cuttings are mulched and returned to the soil to reintroduce their stored energy to the vineyard.

Fabrice typically conducts a green harvest – vendange verte – in July in order to reduce the farm’s yields to the desired number of bunches per vine. At harvest, his aim is always for medium ripeness. As natural as Fabrice’s farming is, we were surprised to learn that he machine harvests, a practice that many view as an impediment to creating truly natural wines. He explained his reasons in simple terms. With 24 hectares (nearly 60 acres) and a mere six full-time staff members, of which only three are dedicated to the fields, machine harvesting is an economic necessity of scale. On the plus side, mechanical picking allows for the entire estate to be harvested in just two days, ensuring uniform ripeness levels across the various parcels of property and decreasing the risk of damage by fall rainstorms.

A plot of Gasnier's Vieilles Vignes waiting for pre-season pruning.
Soil is of two basic types on Gasnier’s property. Here at the heart of the estate, the primary makeup is of argilo-siliceous clay, to a depth of approximately 1.5 meters, below which lies rock. Closer to the river Vienne, the vineyards are planted on gravelly terraces. Given the proximity of the river and the northerly situation of Chinon in general, spring frosts can be a major danger. A day earlier and only a few kilometers away, we’d learned of severe frost damage to Francois Chidaine’s Montlouis vineyards at the beginning of the 2003 growing season. To combat the problem here in Chinon, Fabrice relies on a system of human nighttime weather watchers to sound the frost alarm and three different frost prevention mechanisms. Wind circulators, which look like small turbine engines mounted on flagpoles, are scattered at intervals throughout the vineyards, their aim being to move warmer air from above down to the cooler ground and vine level. Paraffin pots are burned amongst the vines to ward off the cold. Lastly, water may be sprayed on the vines to form a protective outer coating of ice that will prevent frost from penetrating the plants.

Not only did Fabrice manage to avoid any frost damage in 2003, he was also the only vigneron we met on our entire trip who laid claim to a problem free 2003 growing season. Given the extreme heat and drought of the summer, which continued right up to harvest time, that’s a big statement. He attributed the success to the deep root system and general good health of his vines. Nonetheless, 2003 was not without its natural effects. Following 2002, a great vintage in Fabrice’s estimation, the dry heat in 2003 produced fruit with the highest natural sugar levels – approaching 14% – on record in the area. Acidity levels were normal, while tannin levels were greater than usual, helping to balance the high sugar levels.

Our walk through the vineyards and tour of the Cravant Les Coteaux hillsides complete, we headed to Fabrice’s cellar and winery to learn what happens indoors and to sample what he had wrought from the last couple of vintages….

* * *
Editor’s note:
To avoid creating the longest posting in the history of the blogosphere (at least that’s where I feel like this was heading), the rest of this Vignoble Gasnier trip report will appear in installments. Stay tuned for parts two and three.

Part Two: Tasting Chinon with Fabrice Gasnier
Part Three: Celebrating the Chevaliers de Chezelet

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Domaine Ricard: Growing in the Touraine

Vincent Ricard farms seventeen hectares of vineyards in the Touraine, located outside the village of Thésée la Romaine, near the banks of the river Cher and not far from Chenonceau, in the heart of central Loire Valley château country.

Vincent Ricard, circa 2005 (photo: B. Celce)
When first I met Vincent in February of 2004, he was a young man of 27 years, just beginning to get his feet wet yet already taking a strong stance in the Touraine wine scene. Actually, given his relative youth, his experience was fairly extensive. He returned to his family's property in 1998 after a two-year internship with Philippe Alliet in Chinon and a short stage with François Chidaine in Montlouis. It took him only a year from that point, with help from his father, to declare and incorporate Domaine Ricard. Like so many other young vignerons before him, Vincent was the first in his family to make the move to winemaking following many generations of family farming. Prior to 1999, the fruit grown by his family had always been sold to the local cooperative. It’s only in the last dozen years, he told us, that a small handful of producers in the Touraine, mostly young guns like Vincent, have moved to estate bottling and export market sales.

The large, hodgepodge Touraine AOC is still dominated by négociant houses and production of commercial vin ordinaire. That dominance has created a market – supported by self-fulfilling INAO guidelines – that expects very simple, fruity, quaffable and eminently uninteresting wines. Ricard, in contrast, aims for structure on the palate, the possibility of bottle aging and the development of secondary characteristics. His philosophy does not stem from his time in oenology school where he tells us, “Average methods are taught.” Rather, he’s taken influences from the people he’s worked with like Alliet and Chidaine and placed himself along with them, as he sees it, among the avant-garde. He’s not shy about considering his wines atypical to the region or about occasionally butting heads with the INAO. Along with a few of his peers, he is pushing for the establishment of a new appellation for his immediate area. If granted, this new AOC – Chenonceau – would allow for reds based on Malbec (Côt), Cabernet Franc and Gamay as well as whites from Sauvignon Blanc.

The entrance to Ricard's winery (photo: B. Celce)

In spite of all his ambition and a flair for the modern with his labeling, when it comes down to nuts and bolts, Vincent is essentially a farmer. He’s interested in making wines that speak of their place. He’s not looking to expand his property or production, only to increase quality. With that in mind, his ideal would actually be to shrink his estate to a more focused and compact twelve or thirteen hectares.

For the time being, he makes do with all seventeen. At only 20 meters above sea level and gently rolling at best, his property is essentially flatland wine growing country. Here, although exposure still plays a role, it’s not the hillside which is most important as much as are the simple raw materials of soil and vine. Ricard’s terroir consists primarily of sand and silex-based topsoil above clay and chalk based subsoil. His vines average 60 years of age, with some parcels as old as 80. Cultivating primarily Sauvignon Blanc, Vincent also grows Côt (Malbec), Gamay and small amounts of Cabernet Franc, Cabernet Sauvignon and Chardonnay, the latter a trickle-over influence, perhaps, from nearby Cheverny. Overall production is approximately 75% white and 25% red, with nearly 75% of the wine sold on the export market.

Vincent Ricard in the vineyard (February 2004).
Vincent believes strongly in the merits of natural farming. Exposed to biodynamic principles through his work with Chidaine and well versed in organic techniques, he picks and chooses the farming practices which make the most sense for his vines and his wines. Herbicides are never used. He allows grass to grow between every row, though he may eventually cut back to every other row to reduce the nitrogen richness the grasses impart to the soil. Vines are cut and trained later in the spring than typical to delay bud break, to protect the young shoots and buds from frost damage, and to forestall Sauvignon’s precocious ripening tendencies.

Even taking those precautions is not always enough to avoid loss in as northerly a situation as the Loire. In 2003, the season just preceding our visit, frost occurred on April 27, very late into the season, causing the loss of about 30% of all buds and, hence, a tremendous reduction in yields for the year. We’d heard a very similar tale of frost damage and reduced yields just the day before when visiting François Chidaine in Montlouis. 2003 would also turn out to be a shorter than usual growing season. Following a summer and early autumn of high heat and little rainfall, harvest began at Domaine Ricard on August 28 – nearly three weeks ahead of the typical schedule.

In the cellar:

As is common in the Loire, Ricard’s winery is built directly into a hillside on the property. It’s little more than a purpose-excavated garage cum cave, shaped like a small airplane hangar and suited perfectly, given its natural temperature control, to the utilitarian rows of cement vats and small-to-medium sized barrels. Despite the simple subterranean surroundings, the cleanliness of the space was immediately apparent. That cleanliness – a good sign at any winery – is particularly important here, as Ricard entirely eschews the use of sulfur within his crush, fermentation and aging regimens. Developing wines are casked tightly to prevent oxidation or spoilage. A light filtration, if necessary, and very low dose of sulfur are applied only at bottling time. Malolactic fermentation is not encouraged and rarely occurs for the whites, though it's not forcibly prevented.

Evolution can be seen in Ricard's cave between 2004 (photo at left: E. Tuverson)
and 2005 (at right: B. Celce)

Touraine Sauvignon “Pierre à Feu” 2002 (from bottle)
Varietal Sauvignon Blanc, from a plot of flint and silex rich soil, farmed to average yields of 40-45 hl/ha. The vineyard is visibly strewn with egg to fist sized pieces of pinkish white flint, a geology that continues into the subsoil. Rubbing two of the stones together gives a faintly smoky, gunflint aroma. Temperature controlled fermentation and aging in cement vat. Following a damp summer, warm temperatures in September and into October allowed for late ripening and resulted in a later than typical harvest. Light bodied, with bright acidity, lemony fruit and good persistence. The flintiness of the vineyard site shows through in the wine’s bracing minerality.

Touraine “Les Trois Chênes” 2002 (from bottle)
Also varietal Sauvignon, though not indicated on the wine’s label. The name of this bottling comes from a stand of three old oak trees that once grew on the site. 40-60 year-old vines give naturally yields of 30 hl/ha. The vines are on native rootstock, as the phylloxera louse does not take well to the extremely sandy soil of the vineyard. The richness of the fruit from this site lends itself to barrel fermentation, with battonage performed twice weekly during fermentation and continuing post-fermentation depending on the clarity of the wine. Time in barrel varies depending upon vintage conditions. A distinct undercurrent of minerality is provided courtesy of the presence of silex in the sandy top-soil as well as by the calcaire sub-soil in the vineyard. Citrus elements are supplemented by riper, pear-toned fruit and rounder mouthfeel. Ricard prefers a relatively warm serving temperature – 15 to 16 degrees Celsius – as cold will mask the richness and texture of this cuvée. Let’s just say that serving conditions in his cave on a brisk February morning were far below that ideal.

Touraine “?” 2002 (from bottle)
Here, the young Ricard’s willingness to bend rules, design modern labels (a large question mark cut-out adorns the bottle) and push the envelope of “Touraine typicity” came into more obvious relief. Primarily Sauvignon, this cuvée comes from vineyards farmed to yields of less than 20 hl/ha. What else is in the wine? “?” Maturity is pushed to the max. Fruit harvested at 14.7% potential was finished to 14% with 6 grams of residual sugar. Fermentation is done in new barriques with 20% malolactic. Oak, sweetness and fruit forward characteristics are held in check by acidity and physiological concentration, with an intense core of stony minerality again showing through.

Touraine “Cuvée Armand” 2002 (from bottle)
This is a small production bottling from a second tri from the “Les Trois Chênes” vineyards. It is named after Vincent’s great-grandfather, who sold some of the family’s wines in Paris from 1880-1900. It’s also Vincent’s statement/experiment as to Sauvignon’s potential to create a full range of wines from sec to richly demi-sec in style, just as with Chenin in Vouvray and Montlouis. He feels that, “Sauvignon is being made generic and terroir-less all over the Loire.” This is one of his efforts – interpret it as you might – to fight against that trend. Harvested at 16% potential, the 2002 was finished intentionally demi-sec to 13% alcohol with 35 grams of residual sugar. Loads of ripe, exotic fruit, with minerality still managing to find a foothold.

Touraine Sauvignon “Pierre à Feu” 2003 (assembled from barrel)
Very smoky and mineral on the nose, with lower acidity and richer texture compared to the 2002. Overripe grapefruit, along with a hint of cantaloupe, on the palate. To be bottled in about a month.

Touraine “Les Trois Chênes” 2003 (assembled from barrel)
Very fat and creamy, with low acidity but a concentration of physiological matter that keeps the wine from flabbiness. Showing peachy and smoky fruit but not yet integrated.

Touraine “?” 2003 (from barrel)
Oak is more obvious, at least at this early stage, than in the 2002. Also showing some heat and over-the-top fruit. Still fermenting, the wine as tasted was at 14% and 8 grams RS.

Touraine “Cuvée Armand” 2003 (from barrel)
Ripe and honeyed, with flavors of pear nectar and candied licorice. 2003 was a natural year, given low yields and high heat, in which to produce demi-sec wines; this was 13.5% with 40 grams RS when tasted.

Vincent pulls a sample from cement vat. If you inspect the photos above, you'll see that the vats were relocated to a new portion of the cellar following our visit to make room for more barrels. (photo: B. Celce)

Before shifting our palates to red wines, Ricard primed us with a bit of viticultural background. As recently as 40 years ago, Côt – the local name for Malbec – was virtually the only red variety grown in this part of the Touraine. However, much of it has since been replanted due to Côt’s tendency toward extreme variability from vintage to vintage. Vincent believes in Côt for his terroir – it’s less of a risk now due to very careful rootstock selection – but also cultivates Cabernet Franc and a small amount of Cabernet Sauvignon to allow flexibility in blending and making a wine that best represents the characteristics of any given growing season. He is against the practice of specific clonal selection in the vineyard, preferring natural selection as he wishes to avoid the risk of homogeneity.

Touraine “Le Vilain P’tit Rouge” 2002 (from bottle)
When Vincent first produced this Touraine rouge, the INAO inspectors, upon tasting a sample, denied him the Touraine AOC, proclaiming the wine atypical because of its structure and concentration. He was forced to label it as Vin de Pays, which, at least in theory, lowers the sale price and increases the difficulty of marketing the wine. After Ricard sold out his entire production, the INAO inspectors granted AOC status in the following vintage. The name, which can be translated in many different ways, i.e., “The Nasty Little Red,” is meant as a thumb of the nose to the authorities.

In 2002, “Le Vilain” was a field blend of equal parts Côt and Cabernet Franc. Previously the selected varieties had been fermented separately and assembled prior to bottling. With the 2002 vintage, he moved to co-fermentation (in cement tank) to allow the varieties to marry their attributes at an earlier stage. The resulting wine had substantial grip, medium acidity, bell pepper and smoky aromas, and wild black cherry and cassis fruit.

“Le Vilain P’tit Rouge” 2003 (from barrel)
Again a co-fermented field blend, in 2003 the blend for “Le Vilain” shifted to roughly equal thirds of Côt, Cabernet Franc and Cabernet Sauvignon. Tasting from barrel, the wine still on its lees, our sample was naturally reductive yet showed rich, juicy fruit, very dark color, creamy textures with a firmly tannic backbone, and lower acidity relative to the 2002. Hints of bay leaf and bell pepper showed on the finish. Vincent, as of February, planned to leave the wine in barrel until June or July. Due to its concentrated nature, he suspected the wine might again be denied AOC status when the inspectors arrived to sample. Though I’m not certain, it very well may have been denied AOC; the 2003 never appeared on the US market.

Touraine “L’Effrontée” 2002 (from bottle)
Our final taste would take us back to Sauvignon, a very atypical Sauvignon. “L’Effrontée” – literally “the challenge” or “the confrontation” – is a late harvest, 100% botrytis affected, varietal Sauvignon Blanc from a site near the river purposely selected for the possibility of making a botrytized wine. Only four or five other producers in the Touraine produce a Sauvignon in this style, which is more typically reserved for the Chenin-based wines of the region. Logically, Ricard went to his friend François Chidaine for help and advice on making the wine. The fruit is harvested in a single tri with 30 people picking to bring in yields of less than ten hectoliters per hectare. In 2002, fruit was harvested on November 7-8. The finished wine was beautifully clean, with grapefruit, lavender, honey and minerality lingering on a very long finish. Its 110 grams of RS were kept afloat by edgy, chalky acidity.

The wines of Domaine Ricard might easily be viewed as modernist. In a good sense, they are. Vincent pushes the envelope of style and fights against the average. Yet he does so through the application of natural farming techniques, not through heavily interventionist manipulation in the winery. His wines may not be for everyone; he’s not shy of subtle sweetness in some of his Sauvignons or of intense textures and aromas in his reds. Yet the minerality that shines through in even the richest whites and the varietal and local typicity in his reds speak to his belief in the terroir of his little slice of the Touraine. This is a Domaine and a young wine grower worth watching.

Addendum: Much to my chagrin today, though perhaps to the benefit of my note taking capabilities in 2004, I went without a camera through the duration of this trip. One of my traveling companions has provided photos from some of the other stops but shots from a few of our visits, including this one, are conspicuously short in supply. I am indebted, therefore, to Bert Celce, author of the fantastic blog Wine Terroirs, who agreed to share some photos from his 2005 visit at Domaine Ricard. Thanks Bert! Label images were borrowed from Domaine Ricard’s website.

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