First of all, for the trainspotters, you might be wondering whatever happened to the Vosne-Romanee 1er cru tasting I was writing about many a month back. Well, the truth is it did happen. And we had wonderful bottles. No surprises, even in the blind format, the Arnoux les Suchots 1995 was superbly outstanding. This is a grand cru calibre -- jam packed with flavours of black and red fruits and spices, it has the texture of spirited meat stew and central spine of refreshing minerality. The other outstanding one was the Potel's les Malconsorts 2002. Fresh, complex, with tangy spicy black cherries, it had a plush and pliant mouthfeel with a cool finish. Quite delightful.
Okay... Now on to the 'meat' of the blog tonight.
What was supposed to be just a casual takeaway-dinner gathering this Monday turned out quite a number of very interesting bottles indeed.
Roty's Marsannay les Boivin 2002 was steely and very structured. Its finish was almost citric (aren't all Marsannays?), the body structured, and plenty of fresh cherries and metallic twang found in the innermouth perfume. Not really sweet, but impressive on the count of purity alone. Great food wine.
Hubert Lignier's Bourgogne 2001 was very impressive. I was thinking along the line of Vosne 1er on this one. The acid structure was impressive -- just sufficiently ripe and full of bright cushy fruits. Darkly coloured for Bourgogne too. This would have been tough to decide vis-a-vis Arnoux's 2002 Bourgogne 'Pinot Fin'. The Arnoux is more lush and this one more structured. And both are great!
Bruno Clair's Savigny-les-Beaune la Dominode 1990 had me wondering if this was a Pommard or a Corton. Texture-wise it appeared like a lightweight Pommard, with the same tobacco-ey nuance at the finish (which later I decided could simply be called 'earth'). And if it was Corton, it just didn't have enough midpalate weight and was too 'heavy' on the palate (yet not heavy enough for a Pommard). I was dead sure it was south, but not Volnay, and the possibility of Savigny escaped me. I found the wine very ripe, and given the secondary character, I would have guessed a ripe year in the 80s. Too fleshy for a 1988, I thought it was a 1985. Well, knowing it was 1990 gave me some consolation. It was a hot year too. I reflected on this wine a lot, even tonight (I tasted the remnants back two nights after opening) and I would try to remember its combination of slightly evolved red and black fruits, rather viscous nature and the ashy/tobaccoey tone at the back.
The next wine was very light in colour. Delightfully bright amber in colour, the wine was quite florally scented and elegant in the mouth. It finished with rather penetrating acids which thankfully preserved the less-than-dense fruits of this wine. It's hard to tell other than it must have been a Cote-de-Nuits. It was Maison Leroy's Chambolle-Musigny les Amoureuses 1980. Two nights later, this gained weight and started to put on some evolved raspberries characteristics and is showing far more femininity than before. It must be Chambolle indeed! Quite delicious. Even Fiona liked it a lot.
The next one was similarly hued. The nose was bigger and fleshier, with alcohol evidence. But still sous-bois and sweet-mushroomy. On the palate this too had a weightier impression than the Leroy, but fell short in terms of elegance. The acid too just didn't come across polished enough with a shrill streak at the back. Potinet-Ampeau's Volnay Santenots 1978.
Now back to a younger one. This wine had a slight reductive stink on it. Muted but quite large scaled, it was not just shy of being sweet. Quite steely with a familiar earthy tone. Gevrey! I was toying around with 1er or grand cru. It was quite in-between. Sweet enough to be a grand cru but can also be a solid 1er. Vintage wise -- hard to tell. I guessed a damned good 1998. Nope. It was a 1999 -- Louis Jadot Chapelle-Chambertin, thanks to Julian.
The last bottle was an afterthought. Royce and friend didn't bring a bottle so decided to buy this off Andy's. Roty's Charmes-Chambertin 1997 TVV. This wine was singing. Totally grand cru calibre, it was full of Gevrey funk on the nose and lots of old-viney sappiness too. Black cherries, redcurrants, smoke and meat whiff gave plenty of complexity. The midpalate was generous -- too generous to be a 1997 (thank goodness this was not a blind!) Tasting this was enough to tell everyone this was a work of a maestro. Sappy, delicious, nuanced and minerally. Most impressive.
31 August, 2005
28 August, 2005
Palate presence revisited III
First of all, let me own up. I cracked open the Arnoux Bourgogne "Pinot Fin" 2002 bottle just this Tuesday -- exactly the next day after my last writeup where I nobly proclaimed I wasn't going to do just that. Such weakness...
So much had been written on the more regular (nonetheless interesting) bottles in the past two posts, it now begs the question: what about the grand crus?
Before I talk about the various grand cru encounters I had recently, I realised something about the way I tend to assess grand crus -- somewhat I use a slightly different angle when it comes to these very special bottlings which represent only 1% of the total produce of Cote d'Or.
In a world where people are interested in comparatives and superlatives, it's hard not to hold one's breath when encountering such revered bottlings. Why? Well, if the highest expression of pinot noir can only be found in burgundy, then, the its highest classification must surely be the most special. Split that across 34 distinct sections, and after which into hundreds of producers, I think the hair-raising factor of the idea of just drinking one of these bottles are certainly very present.
There tends to be only two ways of judging what seems to be the 'best' of the best: either find reasons to justify why it's so good or find faults with it.
As a discerning consumer, and one with very limited financial resources just to add, I tend to falter into the second category. Looking back to the various grand cru tasting notes, I notice that I often wrote about what the wine lacked rather than possessed, especially in reference to its exalted potential. This tendency can easily be explained via human psychology (the "sour grapes" syndrome), but now I question if this is at all helpful.
I am not going to write an apologetics of the grand crus of burgundy. Suffice it to say that centuries of diligent record keeping, research and corporate tasting (read: tradition) can hardly be wrong. So yes, the very fact that a plot of land is now classified as a Grand Cru must totally reflect its exalted potential to produce the top crops of the region. Period.
So how do I reconcile the fact that most grand crus tend to disappoint more than they satisfy? Let me suggest a few possibilities:
(a) the wine is not well prepared for the tasting (after all, we're talking about a most fragile varietal)
(b) the wine has not reached the peak drinking window (seasoned burgundy drinkers must recognize the nature of a burgundy lifespan which is vertically more convoluted than the most exciting rollercoaster ride you've ever taken)
(c) there are many styles in winemaking, some of which fall short of what is romanticized as the 'burgundy way' and hence the result is compared with a fictitious 'reference-standard grand cru' which we may never taste anyway
(c) most of us don't really understand burgundy wines to begin with
(d) there are truly bad grand crus around
In view of my recent experiences, I must say that none of the grand crus I've tasted really stood out as a very special wines no matter how good and unique they may be in the context of pinot noir wines. That does not mean that all of them suck. The most profound pinot noir I had were all grand crus. I was just lucky to taste them when they showed best. Let me recap some recent tastings...
Fougeray de Beauclair's Bonnes-Mares 2000 was tasty, and candied-smelling in the nose. There's lots of raspberries and cherries going on here, but the palate, although pristine, just lacked the cut, austerity and depth expected of both the cru and the appellation. I honestly thought it was a Chambolle-Musigny, although ironically this is the only Bonnes-Mares plot that resides in Morey-St-Denis. In short, it was clean and sweet, technically very good, but no extra edge to make the wine a standout.
Lamarche's La Grande Rue 1997 was mind-boggling for a simple reason: it was muted. It is actually beyond me that a 1997 can be this closed today but here's one. Very reticent aromas that won't let up despite minutes of coaxing in the glass, although the palate was both layered, sweet and very cool for the vintage. What it lacked however was the midpalate -- perhaps a testimony of the vintage? Otherwise, a fine wine, but shortchanged by its lack of readiness and certainly quite inexpressive today. I have long realized that lack of vivacity in burgundy should not be conveniently interpreted as mediocrity, but this one was honestly difficult to assess. Still I'm hopeful that it would one day be delicious.
A tasting of an Echezeaux from 1988 (the producer's name, an obscure one, eludes me) showed me two things: (1) just how long grand crus take to come around, and (2) just how underappreciated the 1988s are. This wine was delicious. Still vibrant in the core with bright black cherry fruits, it was complicated with smoke, meat and underbrush. Structured, this wine was not at all dry. A restrained sappiness stick around in the midpalate. Sweet!
I had always wanted to try a Roty grand cru. And so I really looked forward to trying the Charmes Chambertin TVV 2001. The wine was quite dramatic. Huge, dark, broodingly sweet and viscous in the centre yet quite light in weight. I almost had to search for that Gevrey earth and minerals, but yes, it was there too. This wine was implosive and if it ever unfolds over time to reveal its layers, there is no doubt it'd be great. And so I look forward to anyone with older bottles. Anyone?
Arnoux's Romanee St. Vivant 1998 is always an anomaly in Arnoux's family of wines. While other Arnoux wines almost always has a edgy and angular take on their finish, this RSV is always very round. Tonight, it tasted somewhat less vibrant than the last time I tasted it, some three years back (I think). What was still there was the roundness, almost-candied sweetness, and some spicy hint a la Vosne-Romanee. Again, a wine that I really wonder about its future.
There was a Leroy 1969 Echezeaux too. Although the wine was still alive, it was getting thin and a tad too metallic for a Vosne. I thought it was a lesser-year-in-the-late-60s Chambertin Clos de Beze. I suppose the rusticity, a hallmark I always find in Echezeaux (except at chez Jayer) should have been a giveaway. But this was hardly inspiring.
There was a Faiveley Latricieres-Chambertin 1995, as well as a Geantet-Pansiot Charmes-Chambertin 2002. I like Faiveley, but this one was just off-form, not to mention not-ready. The Charmes by Pansiot, was again sticky-sweet. The 2001 version was much better, with interesting bacon-fat and cut than the 2002 which tasted ripe and a tad roasted.
I look forward to tasting fully ready grand crus. The kind of experience like tasting Jayer's 1992 Echezeaux (religious) I hope to replicate soon. There would be a 1998 grand cru tasting next month. I truly hope there'd be some that would show beautifully. (For a start there'd be a Jayer.) And the BurgFest next month, some of the older Clos Vougeot I hope too would show up well. Given all the potentials, it would be a shame to keep discovering the unreadiness of these bottles. After all, they really ought to be the greatest wines on this planet!
So much had been written on the more regular (nonetheless interesting) bottles in the past two posts, it now begs the question: what about the grand crus?
Before I talk about the various grand cru encounters I had recently, I realised something about the way I tend to assess grand crus -- somewhat I use a slightly different angle when it comes to these very special bottlings which represent only 1% of the total produce of Cote d'Or.
In a world where people are interested in comparatives and superlatives, it's hard not to hold one's breath when encountering such revered bottlings. Why? Well, if the highest expression of pinot noir can only be found in burgundy, then, the its highest classification must surely be the most special. Split that across 34 distinct sections, and after which into hundreds of producers, I think the hair-raising factor of the idea of just drinking one of these bottles are certainly very present.
There tends to be only two ways of judging what seems to be the 'best' of the best: either find reasons to justify why it's so good or find faults with it.
As a discerning consumer, and one with very limited financial resources just to add, I tend to falter into the second category. Looking back to the various grand cru tasting notes, I notice that I often wrote about what the wine lacked rather than possessed, especially in reference to its exalted potential. This tendency can easily be explained via human psychology (the "sour grapes" syndrome), but now I question if this is at all helpful.
I am not going to write an apologetics of the grand crus of burgundy. Suffice it to say that centuries of diligent record keeping, research and corporate tasting (read: tradition) can hardly be wrong. So yes, the very fact that a plot of land is now classified as a Grand Cru must totally reflect its exalted potential to produce the top crops of the region. Period.
So how do I reconcile the fact that most grand crus tend to disappoint more than they satisfy? Let me suggest a few possibilities:
(a) the wine is not well prepared for the tasting (after all, we're talking about a most fragile varietal)
(b) the wine has not reached the peak drinking window (seasoned burgundy drinkers must recognize the nature of a burgundy lifespan which is vertically more convoluted than the most exciting rollercoaster ride you've ever taken)
(c) there are many styles in winemaking, some of which fall short of what is romanticized as the 'burgundy way' and hence the result is compared with a fictitious 'reference-standard grand cru' which we may never taste anyway
(c) most of us don't really understand burgundy wines to begin with
(d) there are truly bad grand crus around
In view of my recent experiences, I must say that none of the grand crus I've tasted really stood out as a very special wines no matter how good and unique they may be in the context of pinot noir wines. That does not mean that all of them suck. The most profound pinot noir I had were all grand crus. I was just lucky to taste them when they showed best. Let me recap some recent tastings...
Fougeray de Beauclair's Bonnes-Mares 2000 was tasty, and candied-smelling in the nose. There's lots of raspberries and cherries going on here, but the palate, although pristine, just lacked the cut, austerity and depth expected of both the cru and the appellation. I honestly thought it was a Chambolle-Musigny, although ironically this is the only Bonnes-Mares plot that resides in Morey-St-Denis. In short, it was clean and sweet, technically very good, but no extra edge to make the wine a standout.
Lamarche's La Grande Rue 1997 was mind-boggling for a simple reason: it was muted. It is actually beyond me that a 1997 can be this closed today but here's one. Very reticent aromas that won't let up despite minutes of coaxing in the glass, although the palate was both layered, sweet and very cool for the vintage. What it lacked however was the midpalate -- perhaps a testimony of the vintage? Otherwise, a fine wine, but shortchanged by its lack of readiness and certainly quite inexpressive today. I have long realized that lack of vivacity in burgundy should not be conveniently interpreted as mediocrity, but this one was honestly difficult to assess. Still I'm hopeful that it would one day be delicious.
A tasting of an Echezeaux from 1988 (the producer's name, an obscure one, eludes me) showed me two things: (1) just how long grand crus take to come around, and (2) just how underappreciated the 1988s are. This wine was delicious. Still vibrant in the core with bright black cherry fruits, it was complicated with smoke, meat and underbrush. Structured, this wine was not at all dry. A restrained sappiness stick around in the midpalate. Sweet!
I had always wanted to try a Roty grand cru. And so I really looked forward to trying the Charmes Chambertin TVV 2001. The wine was quite dramatic. Huge, dark, broodingly sweet and viscous in the centre yet quite light in weight. I almost had to search for that Gevrey earth and minerals, but yes, it was there too. This wine was implosive and if it ever unfolds over time to reveal its layers, there is no doubt it'd be great. And so I look forward to anyone with older bottles. Anyone?
Arnoux's Romanee St. Vivant 1998 is always an anomaly in Arnoux's family of wines. While other Arnoux wines almost always has a edgy and angular take on their finish, this RSV is always very round. Tonight, it tasted somewhat less vibrant than the last time I tasted it, some three years back (I think). What was still there was the roundness, almost-candied sweetness, and some spicy hint a la Vosne-Romanee. Again, a wine that I really wonder about its future.
There was a Leroy 1969 Echezeaux too. Although the wine was still alive, it was getting thin and a tad too metallic for a Vosne. I thought it was a lesser-year-in-the-late-60s Chambertin Clos de Beze. I suppose the rusticity, a hallmark I always find in Echezeaux (except at chez Jayer) should have been a giveaway. But this was hardly inspiring.
There was a Faiveley Latricieres-Chambertin 1995, as well as a Geantet-Pansiot Charmes-Chambertin 2002. I like Faiveley, but this one was just off-form, not to mention not-ready. The Charmes by Pansiot, was again sticky-sweet. The 2001 version was much better, with interesting bacon-fat and cut than the 2002 which tasted ripe and a tad roasted.
I look forward to tasting fully ready grand crus. The kind of experience like tasting Jayer's 1992 Echezeaux (religious) I hope to replicate soon. There would be a 1998 grand cru tasting next month. I truly hope there'd be some that would show beautifully. (For a start there'd be a Jayer.) And the BurgFest next month, some of the older Clos Vougeot I hope too would show up well. Given all the potentials, it would be a shame to keep discovering the unreadiness of these bottles. After all, they really ought to be the greatest wines on this planet!
22 August, 2005
Palate presence revisited II
Can I be furiously trying to make amends to the past few months of absence? This is my second post in two days - very accomplished by my personal standard.
I just peeped into my wine fridge a few minutes back tossing around with the idea of cracking the Arnoux Bourgogne "Pinot Fin" 2002 open... I contemplated the state of my palate right at this time and decided against it. You know, it's just one of those moments when I thought that although I could appreciate the wine but the 'thirst' factor isn't there enough to warrant lonesome drinking.
Back to the review of the wines I had these past few months.
There were several stellar pinot noirs I tasted thanks to Andy. Brogan Cellars Russian River Valley 2003s were, by any standard, very accomplished. The owner is Burt Williams' daughter, and apparently this vintage her father made the wines. I had enjoyed some very nice Williams-Selyem pinots in the past. They have a cushy, mildly-extracted, cherry-scented, pliant flavours so unlike most Californian pinot noirs. I've tried three cuvees so far, but the Lone Redwood Ranch stood out. A dead ringer for a Chambolle Musigny (de Vogue comes to mind) not just in terms of aromatics but also palate precision. Despite the candied, sappy texture, this wine has a nice stoniness to it. I actually thought it was a burg, and the mistake was indeed warranted -- this is no simple wine.
Another bottle, Bannockburn Serre 2000, was, in a word, stunning. I wasn't expecting too much out of this vintage, but Gary Farr did an awesome job here. Instead of jamminess, I received freshness, an excellent cut and a very polished spiciness. Beetroot, spices, cherries, black raspberries, with a warm, pliant, rounded texture in the mouth, it had the group fooled way out into thinking that (1) it was a burgundy, (2) from Vosne-Romanee, and (3) it was a Grand Cru(?!) Now, if I were Gary Farr, I would be way proud of this. The Aussies, in my opinion, deserve the kudos. When they get close to Burgundy, they are dangerously close. They understand the 'dirt' factor, in my opinion, much more intimately than the Americans.
Talk about mind-boggling, this is certainly one of them: Marquis d'Angerville Volnay "Clos des Ducs" 1990. Hugely tight-fisted, deep/dark-fruited, bacon fat, and awesome structure, it challenged my perspective of what Volnay wine is. This wine is exceedingly youthful -- I was almost dead certain it was a 1999 (due to its depth and weight), but was shamed to learn it's nine years older than that. This is a master's work. Very enlightening.
Wine epiphanies... Have you had those? Interestingly, despite my unquestionable devotion to all things burgundy, whenever I get asked what are the most memorable burgs I've had, I am always at a loss of what to say. Reason? Simply because none really stood out in a very special way. It's hard to describe the magic, but when I encounter it, I know. It's one of those hair-raising, crotch-blood-circulating experiences. And recently I did it with J. F. Mugnier's Chambolle-Musigny Les Fuees 2002.
Here is what I'd call an exemplary burgundy. It does what every pinot maker in other parts of the world try to do but could never achieve. The key word is: RED FRUITS. 'Huh...?' you might say, but it's this very simple basic of pristine red cherries flavours encased in stony, transparent minerality with no apparent palate weight, neverending, never-overpowering silky sweetness that begin, hit the centre of the palate, and trails off endlessly into the finish in seamless timeless succession that would drive all new-World pinot maker completely bonkers emulating it. But here is a wine that displays all these characteristics, textural pleasure in a humble yet effortless package. The clarity, precision, liveliness, cleanliness of the fruits were beyond reproach, and the fruit colours were all RED. Awesome stuff... And it's not a grand cru, mind you?!
I just peeped into my wine fridge a few minutes back tossing around with the idea of cracking the Arnoux Bourgogne "Pinot Fin" 2002 open... I contemplated the state of my palate right at this time and decided against it. You know, it's just one of those moments when I thought that although I could appreciate the wine but the 'thirst' factor isn't there enough to warrant lonesome drinking.
Back to the review of the wines I had these past few months.
There were several stellar pinot noirs I tasted thanks to Andy. Brogan Cellars Russian River Valley 2003s were, by any standard, very accomplished. The owner is Burt Williams' daughter, and apparently this vintage her father made the wines. I had enjoyed some very nice Williams-Selyem pinots in the past. They have a cushy, mildly-extracted, cherry-scented, pliant flavours so unlike most Californian pinot noirs. I've tried three cuvees so far, but the Lone Redwood Ranch stood out. A dead ringer for a Chambolle Musigny (de Vogue comes to mind) not just in terms of aromatics but also palate precision. Despite the candied, sappy texture, this wine has a nice stoniness to it. I actually thought it was a burg, and the mistake was indeed warranted -- this is no simple wine.
Another bottle, Bannockburn Serre 2000, was, in a word, stunning. I wasn't expecting too much out of this vintage, but Gary Farr did an awesome job here. Instead of jamminess, I received freshness, an excellent cut and a very polished spiciness. Beetroot, spices, cherries, black raspberries, with a warm, pliant, rounded texture in the mouth, it had the group fooled way out into thinking that (1) it was a burgundy, (2) from Vosne-Romanee, and (3) it was a Grand Cru(?!) Now, if I were Gary Farr, I would be way proud of this. The Aussies, in my opinion, deserve the kudos. When they get close to Burgundy, they are dangerously close. They understand the 'dirt' factor, in my opinion, much more intimately than the Americans.
Talk about mind-boggling, this is certainly one of them: Marquis d'Angerville Volnay "Clos des Ducs" 1990. Hugely tight-fisted, deep/dark-fruited, bacon fat, and awesome structure, it challenged my perspective of what Volnay wine is. This wine is exceedingly youthful -- I was almost dead certain it was a 1999 (due to its depth and weight), but was shamed to learn it's nine years older than that. This is a master's work. Very enlightening.
Wine epiphanies... Have you had those? Interestingly, despite my unquestionable devotion to all things burgundy, whenever I get asked what are the most memorable burgs I've had, I am always at a loss of what to say. Reason? Simply because none really stood out in a very special way. It's hard to describe the magic, but when I encounter it, I know. It's one of those hair-raising, crotch-blood-circulating experiences. And recently I did it with J. F. Mugnier's Chambolle-Musigny Les Fuees 2002.
Here is what I'd call an exemplary burgundy. It does what every pinot maker in other parts of the world try to do but could never achieve. The key word is: RED FRUITS. 'Huh...?' you might say, but it's this very simple basic of pristine red cherries flavours encased in stony, transparent minerality with no apparent palate weight, neverending, never-overpowering silky sweetness that begin, hit the centre of the palate, and trails off endlessly into the finish in seamless timeless succession that would drive all new-World pinot maker completely bonkers emulating it. But here is a wine that displays all these characteristics, textural pleasure in a humble yet effortless package. The clarity, precision, liveliness, cleanliness of the fruits were beyond reproach, and the fruit colours were all RED. Awesome stuff... And it's not a grand cru, mind you?!
Palate presence revisited
FIVE months... It's been that long since the last time I updated this blog. That was when preparing for my birthday bash at the end of March.
Many changes had taken place since then. Quite obviously I was not burgging as often as I would have liked. My Saturdays are quite filled with my boy's activity, and since late June, my second baby arrived.
I still drink, however. Just more on the non-burg stuff at home. For some reason, it's hard to fork out dough for pinot noirs or burgs for personal consumption. Having said that, now that I look back, these non-pinot bottles had been quite unsatisfying in general, although some merit some mentioned.
At Jason's I picked up some bin end bottles. Fleurie, Chenas, Morgon from Duboeuf circa 1997 vintage were quite interesting. The Chenas was drying up and the Fleurie, although supple and quite perfumed, didn't quite hold up long enough in the glass. The Morgon however, was quite impressive. It's burlier and sturdier. At this stage, it's giving off secondary aromatics, becoming quite nutty and leathery, not dissimilar to aged Crozes-Hermitage. Nice table companions (they're all half-bottles, costing $11).
Also at Jason's I picked up Bourgueil and Chinon 1997 too (an F. Miginiac, I think...) The Bourgueil, which I tried first, was impressive upon uncorking. Already bricked, it gave off an exotic, stemmy, cedary, tobaccoey aroma -- not quite unlike some lighter-bodied Graves. I was quite impressed. However, again, it didn't last long in the glass. And the same bottle tasted the next day had already become flacid. Still I thought it was interesting and was a nice substitute for an aged cheap-o Bordeaux (where can you find one for $30?) I was quite set to buy another. And so I did. But this time I wanted to try the Chinon as well. Although someone on the web said that Bourgueil possessed more depth and longevity than Chinon, my tasting of the Chinon sample proved otherwise. Although showing pretty much the same nose as the Bourgueil, albeit smokier, it's evidently blacker-fruited, more even-bodied, and held more stably in the glass and across the next few days. My retasting of the second bottle of the Bourgueil confirmed that the Chinon was the better wine...
To be fair, my dinner table wasn't quite as Pinot-less as I had just portrayed. I encountered what I dare say is the best Bourgogne bottle I've ever had -- Domaine Arnoux's Bourgogne "Pinot Fin" 2002. Terrifically scented, with cherry and raspberry nose, it was light, lively yet dense in the mid-palate. Blind this to a Burgophile and I'd be most interested what he/she would say.
I had also been experimenting with lesser appellations such as Marsannay and Fixin. Bruno Clair's Marsannay "Les Grasses Tetes" 2002, Philippe Roty's Marsannay "Les Quartiers" 2002 as well as the plain Meo-Camuzet Marsannay 2002 were all delicious. These wines showcase just how good the 2002s can be. Instead of producing skinny, acid-driven wines, the northerly Marsannay turned out luscious, elegantly scented, red-fruited juice worthy of not just for the dinner table, but for more serious tasting as well. No real preference amongst these three. Suffice to say, they are all different and good enough for different occassions.
Gelin's Fixin "les Arvelets" and "Clos Napoleon" both 2002 were tried too. Here is a Fixin specialist and both wines are impressive. The Arvelets is deeply fruited, layered and full of earthy funk. The 'dirt' factor is certainly present here. With some two hours of aeration, this wine gave what my dear friend called the scent of skunk. My preference has to go to the "Clos Napoleon" though. This is a monopole of Gelin's family. Sporting a much lower alcohol level than the Arvelets (in spite of coming from the same Domaine and from the same vintage), this wine is pure silk in the mouth. If Fixin has to show some rustic edginess, I certainly could not find it here. Blind me and I'd have thought this might have been some Gevrey 1er. It's delicate, minerally and transparently red-fruited. Very sleek and worth more than twice the price it asked for.
It's getting late. I would post more of my recollection in coming catch-up posts, as well as the 'state of my palate'.
Many changes had taken place since then. Quite obviously I was not burgging as often as I would have liked. My Saturdays are quite filled with my boy's activity, and since late June, my second baby arrived.
I still drink, however. Just more on the non-burg stuff at home. For some reason, it's hard to fork out dough for pinot noirs or burgs for personal consumption. Having said that, now that I look back, these non-pinot bottles had been quite unsatisfying in general, although some merit some mentioned.
At Jason's I picked up some bin end bottles. Fleurie, Chenas, Morgon from Duboeuf circa 1997 vintage were quite interesting. The Chenas was drying up and the Fleurie, although supple and quite perfumed, didn't quite hold up long enough in the glass. The Morgon however, was quite impressive. It's burlier and sturdier. At this stage, it's giving off secondary aromatics, becoming quite nutty and leathery, not dissimilar to aged Crozes-Hermitage. Nice table companions (they're all half-bottles, costing $11).
Also at Jason's I picked up Bourgueil and Chinon 1997 too (an F. Miginiac, I think...) The Bourgueil, which I tried first, was impressive upon uncorking. Already bricked, it gave off an exotic, stemmy, cedary, tobaccoey aroma -- not quite unlike some lighter-bodied Graves. I was quite impressed. However, again, it didn't last long in the glass. And the same bottle tasted the next day had already become flacid. Still I thought it was interesting and was a nice substitute for an aged cheap-o Bordeaux (where can you find one for $30?) I was quite set to buy another. And so I did. But this time I wanted to try the Chinon as well. Although someone on the web said that Bourgueil possessed more depth and longevity than Chinon, my tasting of the Chinon sample proved otherwise. Although showing pretty much the same nose as the Bourgueil, albeit smokier, it's evidently blacker-fruited, more even-bodied, and held more stably in the glass and across the next few days. My retasting of the second bottle of the Bourgueil confirmed that the Chinon was the better wine...
To be fair, my dinner table wasn't quite as Pinot-less as I had just portrayed. I encountered what I dare say is the best Bourgogne bottle I've ever had -- Domaine Arnoux's Bourgogne "Pinot Fin" 2002. Terrifically scented, with cherry and raspberry nose, it was light, lively yet dense in the mid-palate. Blind this to a Burgophile and I'd be most interested what he/she would say.
I had also been experimenting with lesser appellations such as Marsannay and Fixin. Bruno Clair's Marsannay "Les Grasses Tetes" 2002, Philippe Roty's Marsannay "Les Quartiers" 2002 as well as the plain Meo-Camuzet Marsannay 2002 were all delicious. These wines showcase just how good the 2002s can be. Instead of producing skinny, acid-driven wines, the northerly Marsannay turned out luscious, elegantly scented, red-fruited juice worthy of not just for the dinner table, but for more serious tasting as well. No real preference amongst these three. Suffice to say, they are all different and good enough for different occassions.
Gelin's Fixin "les Arvelets" and "Clos Napoleon" both 2002 were tried too. Here is a Fixin specialist and both wines are impressive. The Arvelets is deeply fruited, layered and full of earthy funk. The 'dirt' factor is certainly present here. With some two hours of aeration, this wine gave what my dear friend called the scent of skunk. My preference has to go to the "Clos Napoleon" though. This is a monopole of Gelin's family. Sporting a much lower alcohol level than the Arvelets (in spite of coming from the same Domaine and from the same vintage), this wine is pure silk in the mouth. If Fixin has to show some rustic edginess, I certainly could not find it here. Blind me and I'd have thought this might have been some Gevrey 1er. It's delicate, minerally and transparently red-fruited. Very sleek and worth more than twice the price it asked for.
It's getting late. I would post more of my recollection in coming catch-up posts, as well as the 'state of my palate'.
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